#ALSO GUESS WHO GOT THE HIGHEST GRADE IN HIS CLASS ON ONE OF HIS EXAMS

[star--anon]

GUESS WHO FINISHED EXAMS

[skzcoffee]

meant 2 be | k. seungmin

Pairing: Seungmin x fem¡reader

Genre: fluff, lots of fluff

- Academic rivals to lovers trope (my favorite)

Word count: 3.1k

Synopsis: Seungmin & y/n have been silently competing against eachother academically since the beginning of college. They both try to one-up eachother in everything, absolutely everything and they always end in a tie.

Warnings: none honestly

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You had always been a high-achiever when it came to school. Well, not always but ever since you won the academic excellence award in middle school, you’ve been the top of all your classes. You even graduated as valedictorian during highschool.

To nobody's surprise, things didn't change much during college. You were still top of your class, and had the highest grades, sometimes. Your outstanding academic status was interrupted by a guy from your physics course, Seungmin Kim.

You couldn't help but silently compete against him in everything, but for some reason, he always seemed to one-up you. It frustrated you, it killed you seeing someone do better in school than you, but for some reason, there was also a part of you that admired him for his hardwork and his ambitious energy.

“Okay class, you will now be assigned your partners for your final big project before we go on break. Please come up to my desk as I call your name” You heard the professor mention in his usual slow and boring voice. It didn't help much the fact that you got absolutely no sleep the night before trying to study for your calculus exam you had that day, so you were trying to stay awake as much as possible.

The class ended and you never heard your name being called upon, so as you were about to approach the professor to ask about your partner, he called you and your classmate first. “Ms.y/l/n, Mr. Kim. May I speak with the both of you?” You two looked at each other in confusion before walking towards the professor.

“You two are probably wondering why I called on you at the last minute. Well, we all know you two are the smartest and most hard-working of the class, the entire generation even. I decided to pair you two up for the final project. Your topic and dynamic is completely up to you two. Amaze me.”

The professor left the room, and you were standing in your place staring at the floor zoned out, you snapped back to reality and you looked up at Seungmin, “So, I guess we’re finally working together” you chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess we are. Do you think you could give me your number, so we can decide when to meet up and stuff…” he asked. You gave him your number and waved goodbye.

Soon after your calculus exam, you arrived home tired and a bit moody since the exam didn't go very well. You studied your ass off for that exam yet you still failed (You didn't fail, you missed 2 questions but your academic maniac brain thought it was failure). As you started to wash up to go to bed, you heard your phone vibrate a couple of times, you ignore it thinking it’s a message from your friend, but it vibrates again, so you decide to finally look at your phone.

Unknown number: Hii!! Sorry for messaging you so late.

Y/N: Who is this?

Unknown number: Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Seungmin from your physics class. I said I’d text you, remember? 😓

Y/N: Oh, hi Seungmin! I’m really sorry, I'm just really tired and didn't connect the dots very well.

Seungmin from physics: Oh, you should probably rest then, I’ll talk to you tomorrow :)

Y/N: Oh, it’s no big deal Seungmin, I can talk for a bit :)

Seungmin from physics: Okay, I'll make it quick. How about we meet tomorrow afternoon at my place to get started on the project? Are you free?

Y/N: Sure, no problem. Mind sending me your address? 😅

Seungmin from physics: Right. *insert address*

Y/N: Thank you, see you tomorrow!!!

Seungmin from physics: Bye y/n, sleep well 💤

Y/N: Goodnight Seungmin :)

You were getting ready and decided to wear something comfortable to go to Seungmin’s, a hoodie and some sweatpants will do. You packed your bag and headed out the door. You typed his address on the maps app and you realized you didn't live too far from his place, just a few blocks away, so you walked over there, soon you arrived and rang the bell.

“Hi! Come on in, make yourself comfortable” He smiled.

“Thanks, where can I put my bag?” You asked, pointing at your bag.

He took your bag kindly and placed it on the couch. You looked around and noticed his apartment is actually pretty nice, it’s simple, but neat, you would've never guessed a MAN lived there.

“Have you eaten already? Are you hungry?”

“Actually, I didn't have time to eat dinner before I came…I-”

“No problem, I’ll make something for you, does pasta sound fine?”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

“Of course, you can take a seat at the dining table if you wish”

You sat down and watched as Seungmin cooked for you. That's when you realized Seungmin is a really nice boy, he’s a gentleman, smart, kind, neat and he can cook. I mean, COME ON, and he’s cute?! You stare at his cooking figure, the way he chops up vegetables and sautés them, the way he puts together your plate and his.

“All done, sorry for the wait.” He apologized as he placed the plates on the table. He sat down at the dining table right in front of you and waited for you to take a bite.

“Oh my god, this is really good!” You complimented his cooking with your mouth full, getting pasta sauce on your left cheek.

“I’m glad you like it, you got some pasta sauce on your cheek, let me clean that for you” He picked up a napkin and held your face with one hand and started wiping your cheek with the other. You looked at him and for the first time you realized, he’s kinda cute. You pushed those thoughts away quickly.

The two of you finished eating and got straight to work. You pulled out your laptop and started typing, he did the same. Then, you started working on a shared document and started to plant ideas for the project. You did an endless amount of research and so did he. It started getting late so you decided it was time to go home.

“Hey Seungmin, it’s getting pretty late I should get back home”

“I’ll walk you home” He got his jacket and put on his shoes.

“It’s okay you don't have to, it’s pretty close from here anyways”

“What if something happens to you? What would I do?”

You finally agreed to let Seungmin walk you back home. As you stepped outside you realized it was raining. Seungmin pulled out and umbrella and put it over your heads, you had to walk pretty close together to avoid getting wet, and something about being under an umbrella with him felt so, intimate. You arrived home and thanked him for the walk and the food, you had fun.

“Same time next week?” He asked as he left you on the front porch.

“Okay, fine by me. Bye Seungmin”

“Bye Y/N, goodnight.”

You went inside your home and washed up to get ready for bed as you thought about Seungmin. He wouldn't get out of your head for some odd reason. You pushed those thoughts away once again and went to sleep.

The following week you showed up to his apartment once again, this time bringing him a cup of coffee.

“Hey Seungmin, got you coffee!”

“Thank you! Come on in”

And you did this for a few weeks, you’d sometimes go two or three times a week. You didn't only get lots of work done during this time but you also got to know Seungmin a lot better. You found yourself laughing and having a good time everytime you were with Seungmin, not fully aware that you were catching feelings for the boy.

One of the days however, it seemed like a normal day of working on the project at first. You two had dinner together, made by Seungmin obviously, since it was so good, talked about life and got to work on the project. After a few hours of hard-work your eyes started to shut slowly and you ended up falling asleep on Seungmin’s couch.

“Hey y/n it’s getting pretty lat-” He noticed you were already sleeping. He didn't want to wake you up since it was already 2 am and he knew that you hadn't slept very well the past week, so he carried you to his room and tucked you in.

“You know Y/N, the more I spend time with you, the more I find myself attracted to you. I don't think I’ll be able to suppress these feelings for too long, I wish you were mine.” He whispered hoping you were deep asleep so you wouldn't hear him. He pulled out his phone and took a photo of your sleeping figure, smiled at it and went to sleep on the couch that night.

You woke up the next morning and noticed you were in an unfamiliar setting, you immediately got out of bed worried and walked out of the room and realized you had fallen asleep at Seungmin’s apartment.

“Good morning Y/N, sorry to startle you. Help yourself to some breakfast” He insisted.

“Oh, thank you. You really didn't have to” You smiled and sat down at the table.

“Y/N, what do you think about going out somewhere today? Just the two of us. I mean, we’ve been woking pretty hard these past couple of weeks, I thought maybe we could go somewhere and take a break, we deserve it” He hesitated.

“I’d love to, I just need to go to my place to wash up and change, then we can go anywhere you’d like”

“Sounds good”

You both walked back to your place, he waited for you patiently in the living room as you changed and washed up. You didn't know where you two were going today but Seungmin seemed to be wearing something simple and comfortable, yet presentable. You figured you’d do the same. You put on a lovely pair of jeans and an oversized knitted sweater to go with it.

“Where do you want to go Min?”

“Min? That’s a new one. I was thinking maybe we could go to the arcade, what do you think?”

“I like that idea, let's go”

Even though Seungmin knew how to do absolutely everything, there was one thing he couldn't do, drive. So, you offered to drive the two of you to the arcade. When you arrive there you start to play a couple of games. You totally crush him playing basketball, and air hockey, but he’s so good at the dance machine game. “He’s a good dancer” you thought, and he looked cute as hell doing it too.

“How are you so good at dancing and so bad at basketball?” You teased.

“I used to be in a dance group in high school, it’s my well kept secret. How are you so bad at dancing and so good at basketball anyways?”

“Well unlike you, I wasn't on any basketball team during high school but sometimes I’d play basketball with my dad during the weekends”

You two discovered a lot of things about eachother, and realized you and him had a lot more in common than you thought. You also found out he sings, dances and plays the guitar? How charming.

After the arcade you both went to get ice cream and went for a walk at the park nearby. You two talked some more, your fingers brushing against each other every now and then and the tension between you two was growing larger each minute that passed by. You two stopped and decided to sit down on a bench and rest a bit, you looked into each other's eyes, his eyes were glowing, so cute it resembled a cute puppy’s eyes. You immediately melted, he was so cute you couldn't take it anymore.

“Seungmin.” You looked into his glassy puppy eyes.

“Yes?”

“You-you’r-you-you’re…” You stuttered like never before it was actually incredibly embarrassing.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

“You-you-you're so cute it's not fair! I can't look into your eyes and not melt.” You cried, you couldn't tell him how you exactly felt since he made you so nervous, so you ended up blurting some stupidity out.

Seungmin’s cheeks started heating up and turned into a bright shade of pink, and his ears a burning red shade. He froze, not knowing what to say, he was a bit hesitant on making a move but then he slowly started to lean in closer to you until his nose was barely a centimeter away from yours .

“You’re pretty cute yourself Y/N” He leaned in even closer until your lips connected softly with his. Your stomach was going absolutely insane, like a billion butterflies flying around. His lips were soft and smooth, he was absolutely charming. You melted under his presence and you were completely vulnerable to his soft touch.

“I like you Y/N, I’ve buried my feelings for you for too long.”

You liked him too, it was so obvious.

“This is probably very obvious by now but, I like you too, a lot.” Your face was all red, you were barely able to get those words to come out of your mouth.

You kissed him once again. “So then, what are we, Min?”

“Boyfriend and girlfriend? If you want to be.”

You immediately nodded and hugged him. He was the cutest freaking guy ever, you could never say no to a guy like him.

“Hey min, could you send me the photos we took together? We’ll take more in a bit, now that I can kiss you in the photos'' You giggled. He sent the photos to your phone and your phone started to vibrate from the notifications. You turn your phone on just to remember how you had him saved in your contacts.

“Seungmin from physics? Seriously? After all this time we’ve spent together? You're joking, change it now!!!” He exclaimed. It was funny not gonna lie, Seungmin found it kinda funny too. Embarrassed as hell, you changed his contact name.

*Edit contact*

Name: Cute puppy guy from physics <3

“Hey! That’s still not my name Y/N!” You quickly shut him up with a kiss.

“You’re a cute puppy guy though, aren't you?”

You two spent the next couple of hours playfully arguing over his contact name on your phone and teasing each other about all the tension buildup that had been happening up to the very moment you confessed to each other.

Everything was going so well until you looked at the time and realized it was already 11pm. It was getting really late and you were getting very sleepy.

“Minnie I’m sleepy, I think we need to go home” You yawned. Seungmin knew that you had to drive home since he couldn't and you couldn't just leave the car there.

“You look so cute sleepy darling but you need to drive us home, remember?”

“Oh right, I’ll drive us home, don't worry” You widen your eyes and drop some water on your face to wake you up, it wasn't the best idea but it’s all you had at the moment. As you drove home, Seungmin was in the passenger seat on his phone. He was texting his friends about what had happened, he was so excited, literally the cutest puppy ever.

Seungmin: Oh my god guys guys guys!

Chan: What’s up Seungmin?

Seungmin: The sky, idiot.

Chan: Okay nevermind, bye.

Jisung: LMAOOO

Minho: This better be something interesting Seungmin because I am trying to sleep.

Seungmin: I have a girlfriend.

Minho: WHAT??!!??

Jisung: FINALLY 🙏 About time man.

Minho: I mean, congratulations dude. Who’s the girl??

Changbin: Let me take a guess. Ummm, is she from college?

Seungmin: Yes Bin, you know I have no life outside college.

Changbin: Alright… from physics class?

Seungmin: Yeah…

Changbin: OH MY GOD IT’S Y/N I KNEW IT

Jeongin: Damn Seungmin, really? Congrats 🎉

Felix: I mean it was so obvious 🤓☝️ Ever since they got paired together for that physics project they’ve been together NONSTOP. Y'all really think they were working the whole time??? Half the time they were probably making out.

Seungmin: Not true, we kissed for the first time just today.

Hyunjin: When is it my turn to be happy? 💔💔💔

Jeongin: I’ll take you on a date Hyunjin hyung 😍🙏

Hyunjin: Actually.. I’ll pass.

Jeongin: You just missed one hell of an opportunity.

Changbin: Stop it, I wanna hear more about you and Y/N

Seungmin: I’m here with her right now in the car so I’ll have to leave you guys hanging, I’ll tell the full story tomorrow when we meet up okay?

Changbin: DAMN IT.

Minho: I swear to god Kim Seungmin…

Seungmin: BYE GUYS😅😅😅

You were about to drop off Seungmin at his place but stopped you before you could start the car again.

“Y/N, come crash at my place, I know you're tired and if you stay you’ll get a good breakfast tomorrow morning. I know you only eat properly when you're with me.” He made those innocent cute doe puppy eyes at you making it absolutely impossible to say no.

“Fine, I’ll stay, only ‘cause you’re cute” You kissed him on the cheek before parking your car in front of the apartment complex. As you two were getting ready for bed, he couldn't help but kiss you and hug you every 5 seconds. You two couldn't stay away from each other for more than five seconds that night.

—------------------—------------------—------------

“I'm scared Minnie, what if our project isn't good enough”

��We’re the smartest in the class, we’ll be fine. We are the perfect team, the perfect pair.” He reassured you with one last kiss before presenting your final project.

“Okay, lovebirds. It’s your turn to present.” The professor turned to his assistant who was helping with the grading. With an unusually excited voice he said:

“I put them together on purpose you know, they've been in love with each other since forever, they just needed that push to get them together. Look at me, I’m literally cupid! Now look at them�� they really are meant to be.”

END

A.N: Y'all I had so much fun writing this thing, I know it's super corny and delulu and stuff but mind you I haven't been writing for very long, just reading. I hope you guys enjoyed it 'cause I definitely did 🙏

[rememerance]

My Chinese Literature teacher in elementary school, who was also our homeroom teacher, doted on me. Because I was a good student, almost always second in the class, I was often first in Chinese Literature. We had to write a composition every week, and composition class was really my favorite class, so much so that when I think of it now I can feel how happy and excited I was at that time. In composition class, we exchanged our compositions with our classmates, corrected each other's grammatical errors, and then took turns letting our homeroom teacher give our compositions a grade. Every time it was my turn to be graded, he looked up and saw that it was me, then would give me a very high grade, and I got higher and higher grades in every class. I felt very very happy because I loved writing, so the grades on my compositions were very important to me.

Now that I think about it, his actions definitely encouraged my interest in writing deeply. I am infinitely grateful to him.

In addition, I always sat in the first row in the classroom (which was one of the reasons why I got nearsighted as early as 10 years old), and I loved to whisper to my deskmates in class, which was not allowed. This same dear teacher was very strict and would reprimand misbehaving students harshly. But I remember that when it was my turn, he just patted my head gently with his textbook and that was all. I felt very pampered and loved as a result, and those feelings never got forgotten until today, and I know I will never be able to forget them.

I also remember one time, our first politics exam, I got the highest score in the class, he when to the class satisfied and even proudly said, "You shall all really try to learn from her."

We had parent-teacher conferences every semester, where the parents of the students came all into the classroom and met with this dear homeroom teacher to discuss their children while all us kids played outside around the campus. My mother, as you can guess, was always one of the proudest parents, and after every parent-teacher conference, she was always all smiles and said to me, "Your homeroom teacher said you're an excellent student, except for whispering in class."

To be honest I have now no idea how I managed to whisper to my deskmates all the time in class as I sat always in the first row which was literally 1 meter away from the teachers. I must be very skilled.

Every semester the school gave out awards to outstanding students based on their academic performance, and I got awards that covered the entire wall of my bedroom.

What an glorious elementary school life I had. I am filled with immense and deep gratitude for it, and I remember this teacher with deep nostalgia and blessings.

I can't be sure he remembers me after all these years have passed and he's taught one class of students after another. He wasn't the only teacher in my life who favored me, but the most important one. I must not have been the only student he favored either, but maybe he always remembered me too.

I have always deeply regretted not being able to express my gratitude to him personally. But how honored I am now to have known now that when he leaves this world in the future, and having a life review in heaven, he will personally feel all the profound and eternal sweetness in my heart all happened because of him. I truly hope that the unending sweetness he will be able to feel then that he has brought to me will completely wash away all of his regrets. How grateful I am that all souls go to heaven, and perhaps he will be there to greet me the day I leave this world. I think it will be so.

Beautiful memory

[yuikomorii]

Saw a post about inconsistencies in Diabolik Lovers and I have prolly the biggest ones:

In Shu’s HDB ending Shu calls Yui an Asian woman and Yui also refers to herself as an“ average Japanese high school student” but later on in Laito’s and Reiji’s routes it is mentioned how she’s actually a foreigner and her step father only left his old country because he didn’t want Yui to be caught by the vampires there and settled in Japan for a peaceful life.She even only called herself “ an average high school girl” without using “Japanese”as in Shu’s route.Now all games follows the lore presented in Laito’s and Reiji’s routes, so what was written in Shu’s one was a mistake because it doesn’t really make sense anymore.I don’t really mind it because let’s be fr, she’s the definition of white girl but I feel like the writers should pay more attention to those details. |:

There was this test battle CD drama where Yui got the highest scores out of the Sakamaki’s but in the routes she’s a pretty bad student as far as I have seen.There’s no day she doesn’t ask anyone for help when doing her homework although it’s based on what was taught in class and heck she was even on the verge of failing her math class in HDB if Reiji didn’t study all day with her.I even remember that one time when even she got wrong even the first answer, and there are several times she doesn’t pay attention during class because she doodles or thinks about different stuff.Beside that, she has the cultural knowledge of a toddler wym she couldn’t even name one fricking painter like what the f?

// Referring to the first one:

Perhaps Shu's route was the first to be written, because Cordelia, who is a major character in the HDB plot, edit: only appears in the after story for a short time, and the writer most likely went with the flow and didn't add too much lore because it had nothing to do with Cordelia. After his route, they probably wanted to give Yui a proper backstory and added: dead orphan child with an implanted demon heart given to a vampire hunter who fled to Japan not to be caught, in order to fit the whole plot. It's also possible that the writer didn't read the other routes before. I mean, I can't blame them entirely, given that those details were largely irrelevant in Shu’s route and weren't presented as lore as they were in Laito's and Reiji's routes. However, yes, it was a mistake. Shu's HDB route had a slew of errors in general, such as in Ecstasy 3, where Yui mentions Shu's heartbeat, despite the fact that vampires don't have one, haha.

Referring to the second one:

It's fine to like the silly Tokutens, but you shouldn't take them too seriously. They present funny and plot-twisty scenarios to generate laughter, such as when both Kou and Subaru entered an ikemen contest, but Shu won despite the fact that he wasn't even registered. xD They can be very OOC, as I doubt Subaru would ever participate in such a superficial activity, but as I said, they're just for fun. In terms of Yui being a bad student, I wouldn't necessarily label her as such. Sure, she gets some low scores, and I also recall the scenes you mentioned, as well as one in which it is revealed that her physics exam was a disaster, and another one where Ruki threw shade at her for getting a bad grade on the foreign language exam. Nonetheless, I believe she is simply not good at that kind of subjects, maybe she’s good at something else. I guess it’s already obvious that Yui catches things pretty slowly, since her learning ability isn't exactly the best, so it's no surprise that she asks for help and has to study harder and longer in order to show good results. I still consider her a good student though; I don't mind that her grades aren't good all the time; she still tries to study and to complete her assignments even if they're wrong, doesn't like skipping, and takes her school duties seriously; she's exactly what I'd call a conscientious student, to be honest. I can't defend her on the painter thingy though, that was the bare minimum, but again, Yui doesn't have much knowledge in general other than what’s common so… it can’t be helped. :P

[waitimcomingtoo]

Give Yourself a Try

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers

Synopsis: you and Peter hate each other, which becomes a problem when you’re given a group project

Part two and three

Masterlist

“Good morning Ned.” You kindly greeted as you took your seat in front of Peter in your first period physics class.

“Morning Y/n.” Ned said back, gearing up for what he knew was coming.

“I really like your makeup today, Y/n.” Peter smiled as he leaned forward in his seat. “Is it hard balancing your schoolwork with your job at the circus?”

“Not at all.” You smiled sweetly at him as you turned around. “I could get you a job there if you’d like. We’ve been needing something small to feed to the lions between shows. You’d be perfect.”

“Small? Darling, you must be mistaken.” Peter kept a sickly sweet grin on. “I’m bigger than your boyfriend of the week over there.”

“Silly goose.” You scrunched your nose at him. “Harry Osborn is not my boyfriend. And just so you know, steroids are really bad for you. I’m worried about your well being.”

“I’m not on steroids.” Peter hissed, dropping the act. “Stop trying to start that rumor.”

“Why not?” You shot back. “You had no trouble spreading the rumor that I was the one who killed Herbie the hamster when we all know it was you who left the door open after cleaning his cage.”

“Are you kidding me? That was fifth grade.” He whispered harshly.

“I will never forget it.” You snapped back.

“Ahem.” The teacher cleared her throat as she stared at you and Peter with an annoyed expression. This was an everyday occurrence in her class, and any other class you had with Peter. You hated each other and everyone knew it. You and Peter stopped arguing and slumped in your seats, giving each other one last look of disdain.

“Instead of a final exam this semester, I’ll be giving you a final project.” The teacher continued. “You’ll be working with one other student.”

“Nice. We can finally present our work on quantum physics.” Peter excitedly high fived Ned.

“Can you guys reschedule your virgin convention for later?” You asked seriously. “I’m trying to listen.”

“Because of the disappointing grades on the last project, I will be assigning your partners.” The teacher went on.

“Don’t worry.” Peter whispered to Ned again. “We could still end up together. We got an A last time so she knows we work well together.”

“We got an A last time.” You mimicked his voice and moved your hand like a puppet.

“Yeah. An A.” Peter said as he leaned forward in his seat. “You know, like your bra size.”

“What did you just say to me?” You snapped as you whipped around. He had on his infamous shit eating grin that you hated.

“Young man, can you please stop interrupting our conversation?” He said as he held up a hand. Your jaw dropped at the insult, face growing warm with anger. You decide not to give him the satisfaction of an insult exchange and turned around in your seat. Your teacher began to list off the partners for the projects.

“Leeds, Stacy.” She called out. “You’ll be working together.”

“Sorry, man. But also, not sorry man.” Ness frown quickly turned into a smile. “Gwen, over here!”

“Aw.” You snickered as you turned around on your chair. “I feel bad for whoever gets stuck with you now. That poor, unfortunate soul.”

“Parker. L/n. You’ll be working together.”

“What?” You and Peter screamed in unison. You gave each other an angry look before looking at your teacher in protest.

“You two are always holding up my class and I’m tired of it.” She held up a hand. “This project will teach you how to finally get along and stop disrupting me while I teach.”

“Mrs. Avery, with all due respect, I can feel myself getting more disruptive already.” You told her.

“I think that’s your STD.” Peter mumbled.

“You two need to learn how to be professional and amicable.” She ignored your protest. “You won’t always like your peers. But you will always have to collaborate with them at some point.”

“I understand that.” You assured her. “But if we do this project together, my fist is going to collaborate with Peters face.”

“That’s a threat.” Peter piped up. “I’d like to file a report.”

“And I’d like to take that report and shove it up your-“

“Enough.” Mrs. Avery cut you off. “You will be working together and that is final.”

You both shrunk in your seats, fuming with anger over the teachers decision. You didn’t cause any more disruptions throughout the class and quickly left once the bell rang.

Peter saw you at your locker, which was coincidentally next to his locker, spraying some perfume on.

“Darling!” Peter exclaimed as he stood next to you. “So good to see you! You know how much I love when you hog all the locker space and make the entire hallways smell like perfume.”

“Why, thank you.” You touched your hand to your heart. “As I’m sure you know, some of us prefer to smell like things other than Neosporin and baby powder. After all, that’s your signature scent and I’d just hate to step on your toes.”

“I didn’t know. Thank you for opening your gigantic mouth and telling me!” Peter said through a toothy grin.

“Oh, Peter.” You laughed airily. “You’re very welcome, you sad sack of shit.”

“Classy.” Peter faked a smile as he opened his locker. “Do you want to come over to my house after school to work on the project? I live walking distance from here.”

“What? No.” You scoffed. “You’re not getting me to a secondary location. We’ll work in the library.”

“Actually, we won’t, because it’s closed for maintenance.” He replied with a tight smile.

“I wish you were closed for maintenance.” Yoh grumbled as you zipped up your bag.

“Hilarious.” He fake laughed loudly. “Are you coming over or not?”

“Not.” You said in disgust. “I don’t know you or your parents. You might try to kill me as a part of some Parker family cult ritual.”

“My parents are dead.” He told you, unamused. “It’s just me and my aunt.”

“Is your aunt a cult leader?” You asked.

“No.” He groaned.

“Cult member?”

“No. All she does is cheat at cross world puzzles and shop at Whole Foods.” He said.

“So you lied.” You slammed your locker and looked at him. “She’s in the Whole Foods cult.”

“Can you try not to be difficult for two minutes, please? We need to get this project done.”

“Jokes on you, Parker.” You folded your arms. “Difficult is my lowest setting.”

“Ooo. Scary.” He mocked you. “What’s your highest? Because I’m pretty sure I saw it last Tuesday when your backpack got stuck on the door handle and you decided to blame me.”

“I know that was your fault. And I go from difficult to hooligan to the step mom from Parent Trap.” You shrugged.

“And they said women aren’t funny.” Peter replied as he slapped his knee. You raised an eyebrow at him, judging him for his material.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“You’re gonna be sorry.” You told him. “Where do you live again?”

“Waking distance from here. I said that less than five minutes ago.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Well I didn’t hear that because I tune you out when you speak. You know, like most people do.” You said sweetly.

“Wow, you’re so funny.” Peter said sarcastically. “If I meet you here at the end of the day, will you come home with me?”

“Fine.” You huffed. “I’ll go home with you. But if I start detecting any cult shit going on, I’m leaving.”

“Fine by me.” He scoffed. “I’ll see you later.”

~

“Are you ready to go?” Peter asked after the last bell had rang. You shouldered your backpack and shut your locker, feeling unusually anxious around him. You could deal with Peter for 40 minutes at a time when all you did was trade insults. Something about walking to his home together and spending time alone knocked the confidence right out of you.

“I’m ready.” You nodded.

“What, no insult?” He asked. “No mocking of my voice?”

“We were assigned each other as partners so we could learn to be civil, right?” You shrugged. “I guess I’m just mature enough to give it a try.”

“There she is.” Peter smiled as you began to walk in the direction of his apartment. “There’s my girl.”

You looked to the side when you heard him say this, unsure of how it made you feel. You often called each other pet names ironically, but this felt different. There was a change in the dynamic between the two of you and it was clouding your judgment.

You let Peter do all the talking as you walked home, thankful that he lived so close to the school. He spewed out ideas for the project the entire elevator ride up and didn’t stop until you were standing outside his bedroom door.

Peter stopped talking and opened the door, gesturing for you to go inside. You made a face at him before walking, staying in one spot as he shut the door and sat down. You were frozen as you looked around his room, not liking how human it made him. He had notes from classes you didn’t have with him strewn around and an open first aid kit on his desk.

“You can sit.” He chuckled when he noticed how stiff you were.

“I’m scared to.” You admitted.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly. Something about sitting on this boys bed with him seemed finalizing, like you’d be opening a door you couldn’t close.

“Just sit down.” He repeated. “I didn’t rig the place with boobytraps, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That’s what someone who rigged the place with booby traps would say.” You replied as you took a hesitant seat on his bed.

“There. Isnt that nice?” He asked sarcastically.

“No.” You said immediately. “Am I the first girl to ever sit on your bed?”

“Psh. No.”

“I’ll take that as a yes ma’am.” You mumbled.

“Whatever.” He replied. “What do you want to do the project on?”

“How about micropenises?” You suggested. “You won’t even have to do any research.”

“Haha. So funny.” He rolled his eyes. “You are so annoying it’s actually impressive.”

“Please.” You laughed. “You so have a crush on me.”

“What?” His entire face went red. “No I don’t.”

“No I don’t.” You mimicked his voice. “Yes you do. That’s why you’re up my ass all the time.”

“That makes no sense.” He scoffed.

“It makes total sense.” You insisted. “You know I’ll never like you back, so you made me hate you. That way, you still get to talk to me all the time. Genius, really. I applaud you.”

“That’s a nice little fantasy you’ve created for yourself. Is that what you tell yourself to help you fall asleep?” He teased you.

“Yep.” You smiled brightly. “Right after I finger blast myself to the thought of you in your Catholic schoolboy sweaters.”

“Oh my God.” His cheeks turned even redder at your inappropriate joke.

“And they said women aren’t funny.” You used his words from earlier.

“They were right.” He said, making you laugh.

“God, I love it when you talk down to me.” You fanned yourself. “Can you tell me how to change a tire?”

Peter began to laugh as well, looking at you as you both laughed. You quickly stopped laughing when you realized you just gave him a genuine smile and looked away.

“Do you want to do the project on tensile strength?” You suggested to break the tension. “I know you’re weirdly into that.”

“How’d you know?” He wondered.

“You almost popped a boner when we talked about in last month.” You teased him. “It’s just rope, dude.”

“It’s not just rope. It’s the force-“

“-the force required to pull something until it breaks. I know.” You finished his sentence. “I’m smart too, you know.”

“Oh.” He was dumbfounded that you knew something he was interested in. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Women use brain sometime. Woman say smart thing like man.”

Peter laughed again, realizing you were actually kind of funny when you wanted to be.

“I’m not a misogynist, you know.” Peter said after a beat. “You don’t have to make jokes like that. I may not like you, but I respect you.”

“You respect me?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“I respect all women. The strongest person I know is my Aunt. Plus, I’ve still never met anyone who was as smart as my mom. I wouldn’t be half the man I was if it weren’t for the women who raised me.” He shrugged. “But it would be ignorant and naive of me to only respect woman who are related to me in some way. So I respect all of them unless they give me a reason not to.”

“Have I given you a reason not to?” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Not yet.” He chuckled to himself. “You’re annoying, but you’re brilliant. I know you would never admit this, but we’re basically the same person. You’re just more extroverted so you have more friends and popularity. And you’re smart but you don’t make that your whole personality, so it impresses more people when you let your intelligence show.”

Your body language shifted when you realized he was actually a nice guy. He clearly paid attention to you and was impressed by what he saw. You didn’t say anything, so Peter kept going.

“People lean in to listen when you start speaking instead of tuning you out.” He brought up your insult from earlier, and you felt bad. You didn’t realize he admired you in any way and you felt guilty for always teasing him. Peter’s kept his eyes down, playing with his fingers to distract himself.

“You’re…you’re kind of every thing I wanted to be.” He said quietly. You smiled softly at him, but he didn’t see it. It was the first time you had a nice moment with Peter, and you didn’t hate it. You could tell he was beginning to panic for sharing so much, so you reached forward and tilted his chin up to look at you. His wide eyes met yours and you gave him a small smile.

“How did your parents die?” You asked quietly, immediately ruining the moment.

“Damn.” Peter pulled away with a shocked laugh. “When was your first period?”

“All right. I get your point.” You rolled your eyes. “That was a little abrupt.”

“You’re telling me.” He teased. You sat in silence for a moment, neither of you sure where to go from there. You knew Peter was still processing you touching his face, so you talked first.

“My parents are dead too.” You said without looking up at him.

“They are?” He asked, scooting a little closer to you on the bed.

“Yeah.” You looked up and gave him a sad smile. “But if you think we’re gonna take a turn and fall in love because we have similar trauma, you’re wrong. I can’t stand orphans.”

“But you’re an orphan.” He reminded you.

“And?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head. “I have a feeling I won’t be getting through to you.”

“Probably not.” You agreed. “Tell me more, though. Did your parents die doing something cool?”

“I don’t really know.” He shrugged. “It was a plane crash. That’s all I’ve been told.”

“Oh.” You nodded. “Sounds lame.”

“What?”

“A plane crash?” You raised your eyebrow. “That’s so boring. Yawn.”

“Excuse me?” He laughed in shock again. “Fine. How did your parents die?”

“Firefighters.” You said proudly. “Died saving three children.”

“Wow.” Peter sat back, stumped.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I was one of them.”

“Seriously?” His eyes widened as he fought the urge to hold your hand.

“No. I’m fucking with you.” You began to laugh as he let out a groan.

“Why would you do that to me?” He whined. “You had me, for a minute there.”

“What can I say? I’m an actor.” You flipped your hair ostentatiously.

“What actually happened?” He wondered. You stopped smiling and bit your bottom lip.

“Drunk driver.” You told him. He didn’t fight the urge this time and reached over to take your hand in his. You stared at your interlocked hands, wondering if you should pull away or not. On the one hand, he was your enemy. But that didn’t make his warmth any less inviting.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “That must have been really hard on you.”

“You know the feeling, don’t you?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I do.” He nodded. “And I know how much it sucked to not have someone who knew how it felt. You don’t have to feel that way anymore. Neither of us do.”

You opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it, not wanting to ruin the moment again. The guy holding your hand was not the same guy who sat behind you in physics. This guy was someone you actually liked.

“I might have misjudged you, Peter Parker.” You laughed shyly. “You might not be as unbearable as I remembered.”

“And you might not be the frigid bitch I thought you were.” He matched your tone.

“Watch it.” You warned.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“You were right.” You said after a beat. “We are pretty much the same person. I never realized that before.”

“Maybe that’s why we don’t get along.” He shrugged, rubbing soft circles into your hand.

“I’d be willing to give it a try, if you were.” You said sheepishly. “Who knows? I might just like you.”

“You want to give this a try?” He asked, eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Why not?” You shrugged. “What do I have to lose?”

“Okay.” He nodded eagerly. “Then we’ll try.”

“Cool.” You smiled.

“Cool.” He said before leaning in for a kiss. Your eyes widened as his fluttered shut, making you realize you were on different pages. His lips made contact with yours for a few seconds before you pushed him off.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked as you covered your mouth with your hand.

“Kissing you?” He asked in confusion as hurt flashed in his eyes.

“Why the hell would you do that?” You exclaimed, still in shock. You got off the bed and backed away from him, trying to process what just happened.

“You said we were giving it a try!” He was shouting now too, but not out of anger. “I thought we were finally admitting that we like each other.”

“I meant giving friendship a try! I never said anything about a relationship.” You shouted. You quieted down when you saw the upset look on his face. “You... you like me?”

“I thought it was obvious.” He said quietly. “I-I thought you knew. You said it before and I just…I thought you knew.”

“Peter, I was joking when I said all that stuff.” You calmed down and sat back on his bed. “I didn’t actually think you liked me.”

“Oh.” He blinked a few times before looking down. “I…I do.”

“Peter, I’m sorry.” You reached for his hand again but his withdrew it.

“No, it’s my fault.” He shook his head and got off the bed. “I misunderstood the situation.”

“Peter, wait.” You caught him by the wrists and pulled him back down to the bed. He sat down again but looked anywhere but at you. You could see that his eyes were glassy so you put a hand on his face.

“You were right.” His voice wavered. “I did like you and I did think you’d never like me back. That’s why I always tease you. I just wanted you to talk to me.”

“Pete.” You whispered, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t want to be here right now. I’ll email you my part of the project and-“

You cut him off by wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. You both had your eyes closed this time and it lasted much longer. Your lips moved against his slowly and you could feel how inexperienced he was. Even so, it was perfect. You pulled away after a minute and looked into his eyes, feeling better now that there were no traces of sadness in them.

“You kissed me.” He said, dumbfounded.

“I can’t know I don’t like you back if I never give you a chance.” You shrugged as you withdrew your hand from his face.

“Well what did you decide?” He asked curiously. You puckered your lips and tilted your head, staring at him as if you were making a decision.

“I still think you’re super annoying.” You concluded.

“Okay.” Peter nodded.

“But it’s an annoying I’m willing to put up with.” You decided as you slipped your hand back into his. Peter broke out into a smile and nodded again.

“Okay.”

Tag List 🏷

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[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

The professor with the practical exam who I wrote about yesterday is definitely the type who has favorites, and before this semester my husband definitely was not one of them. Which sucks because she teaches many of the core and most difficult classes in the curriculum. But this semester, retaking her class that he failed last summer (along with multiple other classmates who also failed it) and doing extremely well this time, he’s definitely flipped the tables (just in time to have only 1 more class with her, but oh well). Her classes are always on Fridays and in the past he always had to wait to get his exam grades until Motzei Shabbos. But he had his written final today, followed by lunch and then lab, and when he came back into the classroom after lunch she pulled him into the hallway and told him that he got “well above a 90” and that she was telling him now because she knew she wouldn’t get the grade reports out before sunset. She told the class that the highest grade was a 98, and we’re guessing that was him. BH. He worked so incredibly hard for this.

[enjeolmii]

coffee - s.jy

genre: mostly angst, a little fluff towards the end

word count: 1.7k

warnings: overdose on caffeine, passing out, i think that’s all :))

"Y/n, you should stop drinking coffee. You have to watch out for yourself, too," Jake says slowly, sitting his hand on your shoulder with the other one on the heavy cup you are holding. "Four is enough."

Your eyes shift to his expression, one that conveyed clear emotions of concern. This was supposed to be your fifth cup of the day.

Studying for the exams has never been so stressful. The amount of pressure dangling on your shoulders is much unbearable than how you expected it to be. Having parents who never supported your dream certainly took a toll on you, and living with a flawless sister all your life was never any help for your self-esteem. Being the low-grade sister between you two gave you comparisons aplenty. Everywhere you look, no matter where you go, you always find taunts and mockery preying on you. All your life, you got discredited by most of your relatives in light of your sister.

And you want to prove them wrong.

Getting higher grades is what it is. All she's ever good at is cheating off of her friends' answer sheets. It's a secret she threatened you to keep. Ever since she saw you and Jake hanging out alone in the swimming room, a picture she'd taken is all it would take for your parents to wash their hands of you.

And then, there's also getting the favor of all your family. She's prettier, sweeter, hard-working, and smarter. Everyone is biased on her nonexistent efforts, yet you - who has tried everything she can do to show her utmost best to be acknowledged by the people around her - were forsaken and left overlooked.

But it wasn't until Jake happened.

Only he saw the struggles you faced and outweighed. He conceded how far down the road you'd made it yourself and never forgot to make you feel worthy of his praises. He is the only one who understood the motive behind your desperation, and he is the only one who supported your dream.

So you wanted to make him proud. This exam will serve as the last movement to get into the performing arts school you long sought to join. To lose this opportunity means losing all you endear, and you wouldn't be sure how well you will hold up if you let this chance slip away.

That is all you can say for five cups of coffee.

"As much as I would love to stop, I'm not yet done studying. I need to ace this test." You peel his grip off of your cup, squeezing it as you offer a hesitant smile of reassurance, and he lets out a sigh.

"You aced all your activities and went home bringing the highest grades in your class," His palms find purchase on your shoulders. "You are doing so well now. Why do you put so much pressure on yourself?" A short silence follows your sigh.

"Jake, I have only been compared to my sister all my life. This is the only time I can prove them wrong. I want to feel incomparable, too. I want them to know that I am not a punching bag that they can just play around with," You clarify through clenched teeth, a recollection of all the memories flashing past your eyes. "You know that better than anyone."

Your boyfriend couldn't help but feel bad for you. He understood. All those times you leaned on him when you felt like giving up, every moment you called him and texted him asking for motivation, he knows how much you went through, and it casts him down that you never acknowledged how much progress and improvement you have shown.

You became more assertive and bolder, and he is happy that you are finally standing up for yourself. However, he couldn't learn to accept seeing you lose long hours of sleep over studying. For days, you ran on caffeine to help you stay awake and scan through your textbooks as long as you were satisfied. You pushed yourself to the limits, bypassing the pleasure of taking a rest and instead etching all significant terms on the topic of your exam in your mind. You disregarded the accomplishments you made for yourself and went on thinking that you never achieved enough to get a compliment from your loved ones, which is what Jake could not understand.

"Yes, I know that. But drinking more coffee isn't going to help you, is it?" He signifies, and you let a dry laugh through your nose.

"Give me one reason caffeine doesn't help." You smirk at him. Sure, your method is trash, and everything about it is not entirely definitive. But, can you really do anything about it? No, well, not that you know of. Your sister is studying in the same field, and it is only a matter of skill to win against her. If you gain a point or two higher, it is more than enough to crush her pride and bring yours up. The hidden thirst you have for acceptance is slowly showing, and you all but feel determined to see how far you can take it to get the better of her.

"Too much of it doesn't bring you to the top. It brings you to a hospital bed."

Your smile vanishes at his answer. What he said is true, but to hear an accurate response to your insincere quest only irritates you. You set the mug down on the countertop before crossing your arms, feeling the weight of his hands on your shoulders disappear, and you poke your tongue to the side of your cheek. "So what do you want me to do?" You assert, voice laced with irritation and disinterest.

"Take a break. Continue studying when your mind's not exhausted."

"My mind is not exhausted."

"Babe, you've been in front of your books since early sunrise. It's already two in the morning." He protests, and you look at him with a tinge of bitterness.

He shoots you worried gazes as his hands travel to yours, squeezing and swaying them side to side, and you sigh. "I don't care what time it is. I can take a rest tomorrow after the exam." You retract his grip from yours, taking the coffee cup back in your hands before stepping back into your room. "I need to study."

"Y/n... Please!" Jake follows close behind you, continuously begging. Suddenly, your head becomes heavy. Pain strikes your upper nape every time he calls for your name, ears abruptly ringing at the volume he whines. Black spots appear in your vision, along with the feeling of getting lightheaded. Your eyes shut tight in discomfort. As though your head will fall off the moment you move it around, you lose all senses, the sound of him calling you blurring away.

One moment, you groan with a hand rubbing slow circles at your temple. And another moment, the shattering sound of your mug against the floor reaches your ears, legs giving out as you feel your boyfriend's arms supporting your fall.

Panic replaces the distress in Jake's expression. Frantically, he lightly shakes your body in an attempt to wake you up, and when all taps and raps decline, he locks his arms around your arms and knees, hastily lifting you towards your bedroom.

Through the piles of answer sheets sprawled on the floor, he tiptoes his way to gently lay you on your bed, snatching the pillows under your head to pile them beneath your feet.

A heavier sigh escapes. He moves to sit by your side against the headboard, looking down at your vulnerable form as he sweeps strands of hair away from your face.

"You're so stubborn, you know that?" He utters through whispers. "You just never learn to give up, even when you know it's going to be hard on you."

Running his fingers gently through your hair, he frowns. He admires it of you - how you always manage to get what you want.

It's how he fell in love with you. It's how you caught his heart. The confidence that inclined his interest when you represented the class's agitated thoughts towards your unqualified professor, not a single fear of the consequences ahead.

Then, having made known that you were never able to use that confidence in front of your family hit a soft spot in his heart. So he wanted to help you get the recognition you desired, stayed with you in your highest and lowest, up until now.

"Why can't you see the significance behind everything you have outdone? You've fulfilled enough to show your family that you are incomparable, yet you're never satisfied with yourself," The air grows silent. "I guess you want to hear it directly from them. Is that how you're going to be? Thinking of yourself the way others think of you... Do you know why I love you? Because you are a kind, persevering, and confident person. I didn't love you because you are smarter than your sister. Hearing confirmation from others isn't everything, love, there are still other people who think you are flawless."

A few more minutes of stroking your head and one good look at your subtle breathing are all it takes for Jake to get up from the bed before bitterly watching the spilled coffee wither onto the corridor floor across the open door. "Now, look at the mess I'll have to clean," He stressfully stretches his neck, eyes closed. Just as he takes a step away to tidy up the mess, a hand reaches to grab his arm.

"I'm sorry," You mumble, eyes still closed. "I was getting too competitive I didn't realize you were here for me. I didn't mean to get mad at you," You tug at him. "Stay here, I'll clean that later when we wake up. For now, let's go to sleep." You make space for him on your bed, a small smile pulling at his lips as he gladly lays down beside you, setting his arm under your head while you wrap an arm around his body. "Thank you, love."

Jake looks at you, smile growing wider before placing a long kiss on your forehead. "I'll always love you no matter what."

You mirror his expression, snuggling closer to him as you say, "I love you, too."

a/n: i saw that there are lots of you who are preparing for exams right now... if you are one of them, then thank you for reading this and procrastinating a lil bit :D i wish you all the best!! drink your water and stay healthy always!!! 💖🥰

[ptergwen]

oooh oml how about a blurb w peter in his spider-man suit (or not but the kids look up to him) playing basketball with a few kids and you see him interacting with them and he makes you join him. like just a whole lot of fun and the kids say, "are you two gonna get married?" and you're both like 😳😳😳.... "maybe??" or wtv (ily tonnes)

knock(it)out of the park

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: oh my goddddd :( ilyt thank you for this <3 also the gif is super unrelated he just looks cute

-

there are few people in this world as generous as peter parker. whether it’s saving the city as spider-man or doing food drives with may, he’s always helping someone, somehow. his desire to give back comes from the kindness in his own heart. he’s shown you that so many times before, but there’s one that stands out to you most.

your general chemistry class had made a group chat so you could ‘collaborate’ with each other. there were a few particular topics you were struggling with at the time. you’d texted everyone asking for help, but they were either busy or didn’t understand themselves. science and specifically chemistry being peter’s best subject, he reached out to you separately.

he felt for you because you had a pretty big exam coming up. he’d offered to call you so you could work through some problems together. why, you had no idea. you two had exchanged no more than a “hi” or “can i borrow a pencil?” now, he wanted to give up his night to tutor you? how could someone be so sweet?

that test ended up being your highest grade so far. you thanked peter in person with a hug that turned his cheeks a deep shade of pink. after that, you asked him to be your study buddy. he didn’t hesitate to agree. you met at your school library twice or sometimes three times a week.

peter really liked talking to you. he found himself smiling through your conversations and the funny comments you made when you got frustrated. you loved how genuine he was, how he wasn’t afraid to wear his heart out on his sleeve. not literally, even though you were studying chemistry.

he’d wanted to get to know you beyond your hatred for balancing chemical equations, so he asked you out for coffee. it was something simple that no college student would pass up. you’d had to push peter’s hand away so he’d let you buy the drinks. you insisted that he already did so much for you, so you could pay it back.

that lead to you properly taking his hand in yours while you waited for your coffees. his palm was a bit sweaty, probably from nerves. he laced your fingers together once they died down and gave you that soft smile of his.

that was almost two years ago. since then, you’ve fallen completely in love with peter. peter has fallen at least ten times harder for you.

instead of walking you to your dorm like he usually does, peter asked you to meet him at the park today. he’s been spending a lot of time there lately. it’s close to campus and he always comes back grinning ear to ear, which is all that really matters. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious what he does there, though.

you head over to the basketball court like peter had told you to earlier. you can’t imagine what you’re doing here. laughing to yourself, you drop your bag on the nearest bench, then take a seat. you’re not in the dark much longer because you hear someone call your name. you recognize their voice as peter’s.

“hey, y/n! c’mere!” is followed by the sound of a basketball dribbling. you look up and realize he’s playing with a group of kids. they’re all in a line, watching peter in awe. he easily jumps up and shoots a hoop in front of them. you hear a “woah, how’d you do that so fast?” and “you’re sick, peter!”

that makes him chuckle while he high fives some of the boys and fist bumps the others. this must be why he’s been coming to the park. peter was never quite the athlete until he got his powers. everyone in high school knew him to be terrible at sports, so he couldn’t exactly join any teams out of the blue. it’s nice he gets to show off his skills now.

it’s also adorable seeing him with his own mini team. they’re a group of five boys who can’t be any older than twelve. peter definitely has a soft spot for the little ones. he’s always talking about morgan, who he babysits whenever pepper isn’t around. you’ve never seen him in action until today.

a grin spreading across your face, you make your way over to the basketball court. peter passed the ball to one of the boys so he can block him while he tries to shoot. he goes easy on him, and he makes the basket. “nice job, shawn!” peter compliments and holds open his hands for the ball back. shawn beams at peter, throwing it to him.

peter notices you coming over and hits gabe with a “think fast” to pass the ball off again. you’re still smiling as peter jogs up to you. he slings an arm around your waist and pecks your lips at the same time. you squeal, pleasantly surprised as you rest your hands on his chest.

“not in front of the kids,” you tease and glance over at them. they’re fighting over whose turn it is. peter wraps his other arm around you with a knowing smirk. “how’d you meet them, by the way?” his smirk becomes a shy smile. “i was walking around here the other day and they needed a sixth player,” he explains, you biting on your lip.

“they asked me to join. guess i’m an official member now.” you trace peter’s jaw with your thumb, making him tilt his head to the side. “you’re the best person i know. best person ever.” he dismisses your words with a click of his tongue. “i can’t say no to a kid, or five.” “god, i love you,” you giggle softly, peter threading his fingers through yours.

“i love you more. you wanna join us?” he raises an eyebrow to urge you to say yes. unlike peter, you’re just terrible at basketball. you’d be better off on the sidelines. “i don’t know how to play,” you sigh and roll your eyes at your confession. “what about knockout? think everyone learned that at some point,” peter suggests in that same persuasive tone.

you give in with a huff. “okay, i think i remember that.” “awesome.” he takes your hand and happily leads you over to the court. the kids stop their bickering once peter gets there, everyone falling back into a line. they must like him a lot. “alright, guys. how about we do a few rounds of knockout?” peter rubs his hands together.

“who’s that?” david ignores peter’s question, pointing at you. he has the ball in his other hand. max hits it out and grabs it for himself. david is about to get him back for it, but peter speaks up again. “this is y/n,” he introduces you and puts an arm around your shoulders. you give the kids a small wave. “hi!” “is she your girlfriend?” shawn blurts out.

kids really have no filter. peter breathes out a laugh, drawing you into his side more. “yup. she’s gonna play with us.” “no girls allowed!” anthony yells out and crosses his arms in defiance. he’d been the quietest, then that happened. you try not to take it to heart because these are only children, but damn.

peter ‘pffts’ at him. “oh, come on. who made that rule?” everyone points at gabe. his face falls, and he pokes max’s arm harshly. “it wasn’t me, it was him!” max shakes his head side to side. “no! it was-“ “never mind, it doesn’t matter who it was,” peter finally decides before they all accuse each other. you give him a look to say you can handle it.

“you know, some of the best athletes are girls,” you tell the kids gently, offering a devious smile. “don’t you want a challenge?” you’re not referring to yourself, but you’ll let them think otherwise. no one’s too young to have their misogyny shut down. peter proudly presses his lips to the side of your head.

the boys whisper amongst themselves before shawn replies on their behalf. “we accept.”

peter gets on the line after finding another ball, you behind him. the start the game right away. first is shawn and anthony, and anthony loses that round. he’s up against david next. anthony can’t seem to aim right, which makes him lose that round and get out of the game. he shoots a glare your way. that gets a snort from peter.

max goes against gabe after that. gabe gets the ball in first, leaving max to go with peter. he gets it in while peter is shooting his first basket. it’s you and peter now. there’s no way you’re winning this, even if he’s easy on you. he’s not. he makes his basket while you’re in mid-air trying to get your own.

“sorry, y/n/n!” peter shouts and goes off to the back of the line. you groan, shawn being your opponent. he’s the better of the kids. you keep shooting baskets while he aims for his first. neither of you make it, except you get closer. the two of you go on for a couple of minutes before you both shoot at the same time. your ball hits into his and, well, knocks it out.

you make the basket.

the kids all gasp, including shawn, as you run back over to peter. he high fives you with both hands, then locks his with yours. “babe! you made a basket!” peter cheers for you. “i made a basket!” you repeat, jumping up and down. everyone is going to take you as serious competition from here on out.

by the time you finish the next couple of rounds, you’re all out of breath. you managed to win one. it would’ve been two, had peter not been the other person left in with you. it definitely helped that you have a few feet and around ten years on all the kids. they did try their hardest either way, and you all had a really good time.

the boys each grew respect for you. you’re glad you gave them a new perspective.

“good game, y/n,” shawn says like he’s wise beyond his years, shaking your hand. “you too,” you grin at him and give him a firm handshake back. peter squeezes your waist from where he’s standing behind you. “we’d ask you to join the team, if it didn’t make us an odd number,” david explains, gabe nodding in agreement.

you lay your head back on peter’s chest. “dang, you’re right. i had a lot of fun, though.” all the boys look at you two suspiciously. max asks what they’re all wondering. “peter, are you gonna marry her?” you feel him stiffen against you, his breath hitching. “wh- what?” he stammers out and subconsciously tightens his grip around your waist.

anthony gags at the question, shawn slapping him on the back for that. he asks this time. “yeah, are you?” your lips pull into a smirk, you looking at peter over you shoulder. “are you, peter?” this is something you’ve talked about before, so you’re not putting him on the spot. peter meets your eyes and tells you the same thing he said last time. “one day, i hope.”

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Humility

[ Chapter 1 ]

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A/N: I’m leaving it vague as to whether Mc is in a relationship with any of the brothers, similar to the lessons; there’s innuendos and flirting, but no explicit romance on Mc’s behalf. I didn’t intend for this chapter to be so long, it just sort of happened... whoops. The other parts will probably be shorter, but I’m not worrying about it too much. Feel free to read: please reblog or reply; I love knowing what people think of my stuff!

word count: 2.5k || warnings: n/a 

“We need to talk” was never a good thing.

Being summoned to Lucifer’s study was fairly common. He regularly checked on you through private meetings to discuss grades, his brothers, and all manner of things related to your life in the devildom. He also made his fair share of requests for your time as a de-stressor, when he eventually admitted that your presence comforted him. 

He gave out punishments too though, and despite his soft spot for you, he wouldn’t hesitate to call you into his office to remind you of the rules. It was no secret when he was upset, and he would make it very clear what-- or rather, who-- the cause was.

That being said, Lucifer was always straightforward in why he was asking for you. He may not be specific, but he’d at least give some sort of warning. Some mention of grades, his brothers, or your chores. You would at least know whether to prepare an apology or not.

Today though, there was no reason. Well, there clearly was; he wouldn’t call you for no reason. But you only got two texts: “Come to my study after class,” and “we need to talk.”

Anxiety gnawed at your gut. What could he want to talk about? The recent humanities test? You did okay on it-- despite the class meaning something slightly different in the devildom than it did in the human realm-- so it shouldn’t be that. Had you forgotten to do chores? You almost forgot that you were on cooking duty the other night, was he upset about that? Was it how busy you were, not making enough time for him? Or maybe--

Suffice to say, by the time you knocked on his door, you’d already started your mental packing list. If it was serious enough that he wouldn’t even say it over text, you may as well prepare yourself for the trip back home. It would be the best case scenario, even.

“Mc? Come in.” Opening the door revealed Lucifer to be sitting at his desk, the glasses on his face showing that he was doing paperwork before you arrived. At a glance, it didn’t seem like Diavolo was in there, but maybe you didn’t deserve his presence at your exit ceremony. 

“Shut the door behind you.” Lucifer was skilled at conveying a lot in just a few words. It was an unspoken rule that when invited in, you were to enter the room and close the door, then wait for him to tell you what to do next. He knew you were aware of this rule-- rather, he was pointing out your hesitation, and telling you to hurry up.

Lucifer crossed his arms as you carried out his request, watching your movements with an unamused expression. He was impossible to read, but you could tell when you were on your way to the chopping block.

“Come, you may set your things in the chair.” It wasn’t an offer. You tracked the distance using the grain of the floor as you approached, shoulders remaining tense even as you pulled a chair out and dropped your backpack into it. 

Only when the silence felt suffocating did you force your eyes up; they crawled up the desk, over his arms and his chest, until you finally met his gaze. He seemed to tower over you, glaring down his nose, despite being reclined in his leather chair an entire table’s length away. He narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing. Quick to look away again, you decided eye contact was a bad idea.

“You had a humanities test last week.” You flinched, but he continued on, “I know you already got the results back. I recall asking to see your grades from that class in the past. Why haven’t you shown it to me?” Lucifer was a student council member, not to mention had many strings he could pull among the staff-- he could easily get access to your grades if he wanted them. He’d done so in the past, when you dodged his questions about grades one too many times. He was asking you directly because he wanted to see you squirm.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy lately, and--”

“It’s alright,” He said, a smile gracing his features. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but the relief was short-lived as his smile turned ice-cold. He leaned forwards onto the desk, clasping his hands in front of him. “You can show me now.”

Another command, masquerading as a suggestion. You knew better than to lie about not having it, so you dug the paper out of your backpack and handed it over. He looked down at the test, then up at you, peering over his glasses as if he were a professor himself.

“Color me impressed.”

“I got lucky, it wasn’t anything special. I guessed for at least half of that.” You crossed your arms, though it looked more pitiful than defensive. As if you were trying to give yourself a hug, though the sleeves of your uniform tightened under your anxious grip.

“Mc, you got the highest score in the class. Ninety-five percent is not the result of ‘half-guessing’.” He replied, deadpan. He’d seen the grades beforehand after all.

“I mean, it’s just human studies, it makes sense that I know a little more about it than other subjects. I have an unfair advantage, is all.” Your reasoning must’ve tired him, because it earned you a sigh. He took off his glasses and set them on the desk, appearing less stern when he looked at you again. 

“Do you know why I asked you to bring me your grades from humanities?” 

You chanced a glance at him, but his face gave nothing away. If seeing your grade wasn’t enough to sate him, what did he want from this? You shook your head.

“Because I wanted to give you something to brag about.” Lucifer’s statement brought your train of thought to an abrupt halt. You blinked back at him, confused. “Your grades have been improving lately, especially in that class. I’ve seen how hard you work to make that happen, and yet you refuse to share your successes with me. I first believed it to be fear of failure, or perhaps of disappointment, but even in your best classes, you didn’t dare to broach the topic. You don’t to this day, despite being expressly asked to!” He gestured at the exam on his desk, exasperated. “Why?”

“I…” It was a lot of things, of course, but none were easy to explain. Lucifer gave you a moment to figure out what to say, surprisingly patient-- until you said, “It’s not worth your time. It’s not that impressive.”

Lucifer’s expression dropped from exasperated concern back into one of irritation. “Are you trying to insult me?”

“No.” You answered meekly.

“Then why would you bother to say you aren’t worth my time? I believe I have made it exceedingly clear that I wish to spend time with you. I ask for your free time and you have none. I ask for your grades and you hide them. I give you my praise and you refuse it.” He stood from his chair, working himself up again. Guilt weighed on you heavily, and though you couldn’t place exactly why-- it was definitely about more than your grades.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why?” He spoke so quickly that he almost talked over you, leaving you floundering for a reply.

“I… don’t know.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t know what you’re sorry for.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You replied, earning your second sigh from Lucifer. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to need to find a different approach. 

“Mc, I know the lesser demons talk about you behind your back.” The sudden change of direction was shocking enough, but this was a touchy subject. You fought to keep a neutral expression, retreating to your original plan of avoiding eye contact. Lucifer walked around his desk, sliding himself between you and his work area. He somehow managed to find a position that both encroached on your personal space and allowed him to lean against a portion of the surface that wasn’t covered in papers. “I know it happens when you’re around, too. I know you don’t say anything about it, and you certainly don’t correct them. …I know you agree with them.” The accusations were true, but it didn’t make them any less painful.

“Mc, look at me.” You didn’t want to get into any more trouble, this whole experience was already painful enough. But you doubted your ability to hold it together if he delivered any kind of finishing blow while making eye contact.

A gloved hand gripped your chin, surprisingly delicate, and tilted your face up to look at his. You couldn’t imagine what kind of expression you were making, but it must’ve been pitiful; as soon as you met his eyes he softened his gaze, and his grip on your chin shifted so that he could gently stroke your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not mad at you.”

Well, that would’ve been nice to hear before you walked in the door.

“I’m worried about you.” His already low-pitched voice was soft as he said it, words laced with concern. Your heart broke, and you instantly changed your mind-- this was worse. 

“Lucifer, I…” You struggled to find the words, caught off-guard by his sudden change in demeanor. “I’m fine, I promise.” It wasn’t a matter of lying to him, it was a matter of doing anything you could to keep that expression off his face. It didn’t suit him, and it just made you feel worse. 

“I don’t like when you lie to me.” He called your bluff immediately. “Besides, it’s been this way for a long time, hasn’t it?” His hand fell away from your face, landing on your shoulder. He didn’t need to ask, he knew the answer. “When did you lose your sense of pride?”

It was hard to ignore the stinging from behind your eyes; the best you could hope for was that Lucifer wouldn’t notice. It was a worthless hope to have, but he at least had the decency to refrain from commenting on it.

“You’re allowed to be proud of your accomplishments, Mc. Big or small. Even if it comes easily, you can always be proud of a job well done. It applies all the more if you work hard to achieve it. You are allowed to accept that your effort paid off, and you can brag about it. I should know.” He smirked a bit, but the moment passed quickly. “Moreover, you can be proud of yourself. Who you are, how far you’ve come. You aren’t the same person you were a year ago, that’s a sign of progress. And… you can be proud of the way you look.” At his last sentence, he stood up off the desk, stepping further into your bubble. 

Your pulse quickened, but the flurry of emotions you were dealing with made it impossible to tell which one was responsible.

“Turn this way.” Lucifer used your shoulders to guide you towards a corner of the room. Your movements were stiff, but he maintained his grace, easily leading you to a full-length mirror against the wall that you hadn’t noticed until now. He sought to meet your eyes through the reflection, but you averted your gaze. 

“I’ve seen the way you act around mirrors. I sometimes wonder how you brush your hair in the morning.” He mused, briefly combing his fingers through your locks. “Why don’t you ever look?”

“I don’t like to.” It was barely a whisper, but he didn’t have to hear you. He knew the answer.

“Look again.” It was hard, but you did as he instructed. He brought his head down, breath tickling your ear when he spoke again. “You’re looking at the most attractive human in the three realms.”

Your heart swelled at the compliment, but it wasn’t exactly easy to believe. “I’m not-- I mean, I think that’s an exaggeration…” You amended, careful to avoid going against what he said.

Lucifer snorted. “Do you really think seven of the most powerful demons in the devildom would fall for you at once if you weren’t attractive?”

You couldn’t fight the blush that rose to your face from that one, though it was comforting to see that Lucifer was affected too. He had the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks; even the brief mention of his true feelings was a momentous occasion for him. He wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type.

“Lucifer, I-” You attempted to turn and face him, but his grip on your shoulders tightened and he prevented you from moving.

“We aren’t done, human.” The switch had flipped again, and he was back to bottling up whatever emotion had temporarily risen to the surface. You were back to ‘human’ rather than ‘Mc’, which was another sign. “Look back into that mirror, and listen to me.”

You did as he asked, your eyes drawn to his. You caught him looking you up and down, like he was sizing up his next victim.

“You did not come all the way to the devildom to spend a year being virtuous to a fault. We are going to teach you to sin.” He chuckled at your expression, but cut you some slack; he leaned back slightly, though still held you in place by your shoulders. “Rather, you are going to learn how to enjoy life, from demons. I’ve entrusted my brothers with assisting you in their own ways; they will each get one day to teach you how to better take care of yourself. I’ve elected to go first, for a lesson in humility.” 

You could swear you’d just finished your first lesson. This entire meeting had been torture, and now he was saying it wasn’t done yet? No, not even-- he was saying that it had yet to begin.

“Don’t expect me to let you off easy, either. As we’ve established, you have a long way to go. I may only have one day, but I’ll be assigning homework. If I don’t think you’re keeping up, I will require you to attend study sessions. We can start with something simple: find five things you like about yourself-- no, I’ll even let you start with one-- and tell me about it.” Despite suggesting such a basic self-confidence booster, Lucifer beamed-- well, he wore his favorite smile at least, the one that terrified demons and mortals alike. “You can’t repeat anything I’ve told you today, and you have to believe it. Prove to me that you believe it.”

Your head was spinning. He had just bombarded you with compliments-- albeit oddly threatening ones-- for far longer than you could take, and now he was expecting you to keep the work up on your own? Starting now, and lasting until… when? Did you need to add this to your list of assignments for class? 

“I’m waiting, Mc.”

This was going to be a long week.

[jcmorrigan]

Blakeworther,,,but college

OKAY. I SAW THIS LAST NIGHT AND WAS THINKING ALL THROUGH LAST NIGHT AND THIS MORNING BECAUSE THIS HAD TO BE GOOD

Blakeworther: ORIGINS (hopefully actually canon-compliant?)

-Vincent didn’t want a roommate. But RMU has a policy that unless a first-year has an extreme medical condition that requires them to room alone, they have to double up due to high attendance rates vs. limited dorm space. So unfortunately, Vincent needs to stay in the same room as this “Victor Blake” person he’s never met before and probably won’t like.

-He opens the door to their room on the first day. Victor is already there, decorating his half of the room. And you think Victor is a flirt nowadays? This is a Victor straight out of high school, with lingering teenage hormones. He takes one look at Vincent, gives him a coy smile, and just goes “Hello, beautiful.” And winks.

-Vincent goes “Don’t talk to me” and starts setting up his side of the room.

-Well, that’s rude. Victor tries to engage in conversation a couple more times, but Vincent makes it clear he is NOT HAVING IT, so Victor eventually gives up and pouts. (Vincent really is pretty. But more importantly than that, Victor kind of wanted his roommate to be his friend. That seems like a requirement for the college experience.)

-Oh, well. If they can put up with each other for one (1) year, they can request new roommates for their second year.

-Vincent sets off for his 8 a.m. on the first day. Psychology 101. He gets going at about 7 because he NEEDS to make a statement by getting there first. Back in high school, he was valedictorian, and he must continue to show people how classy, smart, and punctual he is.

-He arrives at the classroom. Seemingly empty. He strides through the door -

-The next thing he knows, he’s on the floor. Someone has screamed. He thinks it’s him. He’s disheveled, his books scattered. What just happened?

-After assessing the situation and going over the split-second incident that is retroactively gelling in his memory, he realizes that he walked through that door, and somebody who was waiting on the other side of the wall, just around the corner and out of sight, leapt out and JUMPSCARED him the moment he walked in.

-He looks up at the perpetrator who stands above him, giggling his ass off. This asshole is wearing a bright pink shirt and he’s admittedly kinda cute but also this was unforgivable.

-Victor: “What the HELL was that for?” Pink Shirt Man: “I knew someone would come along who thought they were first, and I wanted to make it clear this is my territory. I was here for fifteen minutes before you.” Vincent: “Why the HELL were you waiting here for fifteen minutes - “

-He makes a point of gathering up his books VERY ANGRILY and stomping to the furthest corner of the classroom to sit as far away from Pink Shirt as possible. Then glares at him venomously.

-So. A word on Albert. He grew up an only child with very few friends. He’s got a roommate too, but the guy’s an introvert in dark glasses who barely talks, spends like all his time watching anime, and is visibly just scared of Albert. So that friendship is out the window.

-(Yes. It’s Winston. He has not had an easy life.)

-This leaves Albert, who has no idea how to appropriately interact with people but has way too much pent-up energy, trying to figure out how to get people’s attention so he can make friends. But when I say he has no idea, I mean he has NO idea.

-So he sits down in the front row where his stuff was previously and just turns and STARES AT VINCENT until the rest of the class files in. Vincent keeps his eyes turned anywhere but at this Pink Shirt Creep because who stares at somebody over their shoulder for ten solid minutes?

-Albert chalks this up as a victory. Sure, this dude hates him, but that’s more attention than he was getting before!

-For the rest of the class, Vincent is hoping they can just move on and have a normal day in which he knocks every question fired his way out of the park. But that’s not what happens. What happens is this PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE in the front row keeps answering questions without being called on, and not even seriously. With the most MORBID sense of humor.

-Prof: “What are the three ways to study the brain?” Albert: “Smash open the test subject’s skull, rip it out, and have fun.”

-Vincent KNEW the answer was “lesion, stimulation, recording” and he’s so mad.

-He leaves this class grumpy.

-He’s on an alternating schedule, so block A of classes one day, block B the next. His next classes for A day go well and he gets to show off a fair bit of his intellect. But then the last class of block B and it’s art.

-Guess who’s there? Not Victor, unfortunately!

-Vincent walks in the door and THE PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE is there and Albert just waves at him “Hello” and Vincent is in hell.

-Same thing. Albert spends the whole class being obnoxious and annoying, but in a way that gets the other students to laugh. And Vincent just stews.

-Over the next few days, Vincent spends a lot of study time in his room rather than in the library because it’s quieter. Victor respects that Vincent will complain if there’s too much noise and so wears headphones when he’s working because he likes music in the background.

-One day, he accidentally rips the headphone jack out of the laptop and the song he was listening to blares over the dorm. He fixes the volume, already going, “Well, sor-ry for the accident - “

-Vincent: “Actually, I like that song. Have you listened to the album or do you just like it as a standalone?”

-Victor: “I...I saw them in concert, actually.”

-They have the first real conversation they’ve ever had since they moved in together because they ended up liking the same song. And they’re happy to be talking about it. This is good! Maybe they can be friends after all!

-First exam in Psych 101. Vincent feels pretty confident. This is a test he didn’t really put too much effort into studying for because he’s confident he memorized everything from high school. Well...as it turns out, he didn’t. But he fudges it as best he can, sure he’s at least doing better than the simpletons of the class. He’s the only one who takes this seriously, after all.

-Exam results come back, and the prof reveals that he’s graded on a curve. One student and one alone got a 95% on the exam; the rest failed horrendously.

-Vincent is about to rest on his laurels when the prof says “And that person is Albert Krueger.”

-Who the hell is -

-PINK SHIRT ASSHOLE stands up and bows playfully.

-Vincent now has a name for his nemesis. ALBERT KRUEGER. He’ll remember that and not be happy about it.

-So he’s chatting with Victor a lot more now as they hang out. Victor has a problem one day because one of his econ courses has a particularly picky prof who’s failed every single one of his essays to date, and he’s afraid he’s going to actually fail his favorite subject.

-Vincent takes a look at that prof’s notes. To his eyes, it’s easy to see what arbitrary hoops the prof wants Victor to jump through. It’s also easy to see that Victor actually is doing what’s asked of him and grasping the material; the prof just demands these extra trappings, probably as a power trip.

-Vincent knows exactly how to write the next paper to make it fit requirements. And so he says, “If you don’t have a problem with plagiarism, I can get the next one to pass.”

-Victor: “Well, don’t make it too perfect, or they’ll catch on.”

-Vincent writes Victor a solid B- of a paper. And it’s graded with the expected B-. Victor is SO thankful and calls Vincent a genius.

-About time someone around here did. Since it strokes his ego, Vincent offers to do any paper Victor wants for him, free of charge.

-Meanwhile! In art class, they’ve been assigned a midterm visual art project. Vincent can already tell that his piece is...good but not great. You know who’s making a fantastic landscape painting that everyone else in the studio ahhs at every day he works on it? AAAAAALBERT KRUEGER.

-Vincent is trying so hard not to explode.

-Vincent and Victor decide to eat lunch together because they like each other now. They head on down to the cafeteria, load up their plates with food, go to get the last two puddings on the shelf -

-Somebody takes the last two puddings.

-GUESS WHO?

-Albert: “I believe it is they who snooze who must lose.” He didn’t even want two puddings. But while people can get temporarily impressed with his prowess, annoying people is the only way he can REALLY get lasting attention. Most people go “Albert’s painting is so cool!” and leave. Vincent, though? Vincent keeps on making a SCENE out of it and Albert likes that. So he made sure neither Vincent nor Vincent’s friend could have any pudding.

-Vincent and Victor sit down, pudding-less. Victor: “Who was that guy?”

-Vincent explains the whole thing. He rambles for almost the whole lunch period about how much he HATES Albert. Culminating in how he knows that Albert’s art project is going to get highest marks and make Vincent’s look so much worse by its very existence.

-Victor: “You know...I have a plan, but it’s not entirely legal. If you want to get back at him, though...” Vincent: “I’m listening.”

-They break into the locked art studio after hours and RIP ALBERT’S PAINTING INTO SHREDS. That’s, like, twenty hours of work just gone. They leave no evidence.

-The following day, Albert approaches the two of them at lunch: “I know it was you. You can’t lie to me about this. From now on, we are at war. You, Vincent, are my mortal enemy. And you, Vincent’s accomplice, I know were talked into this by him, but you’re on the thinnest of ice.”

-Vincent’s fine with this. Victor thinks it’s funny and doesn’t own up to having come up with the idea.

-Anyway, Vincent and Victor start hanging out more, so when there’s a school dance, they decide to go together. Just as bros, not as PARTNERS what are you even - no. Platonic. Heheheheh

-And they have a good time dancing! Vincent doesn’t normally like this sort of thing, but Victor’s into it, so they’re cutting a rug.

-A small throng of students is gathered in the middle of the floor, watching some spectacle. Victor wants to see what’s going on. So he brings Vincent over.

-Everyone’s watching a particular student just absolutely breakdance with the greatest of skill. And GUESS WHO?

-Vincent enters RAGE MODE

-Victor: “Oh, no, here we go.” (Secretly thinking to himself that Albert did have some sexy moves indeed.)

-Vincent storms in and CHALLENGES ALBERT TO A DANCE-OFF. Albert accepts. Victor calls himself a third competitor so as not to be left out, and Vincent rules that either he or Victor winning will be a victory for Vincent.

-Well, Albert gains more applause by a LANDSLIDE. Vincent and Victor are good dancers, but Albert is FANTASTIC. Vincent complains the rest of the night and Victor’s just “Look, I know he was gorgeous and he got all the attention but please pay attention to me”

-Things continue like this until the next semester, when classes are shuffled and FINALLY Vincent is free of Albert.

-You know who walks in to find Albert just staring creepily at him from the front row of his first class? VICTOR.

-It’s Biology. Right away, the class gets a partner assignment, and the prof sticks Albert and Victor together.

-Might as well make the best of this.

-So they get to just awkwardly chatting. Victor tries to keep himself level-headed. Albert still doesn’t know it was Victor’s idea to destroy his painting. So they’re just playing it cool.

-And...it’s actually kind of fun to talk to one another?

-Albert lets slip that he likes bio a bit better than psych, but everyone’s expecting him to take up the position at Krueger Health Corp. Victor’s just like “So fuck ‘em. Switch majors.”

-Albert then blurts “Have you ever wanted to dismember someone who wronged you?”

-Victor: “Yes. All the time.”

-So for the first time, somebody is giving Albert attention that is NOT rivalry and is NOT just marveling at his talents and antics. This is new. He’s not sure how to handle it.

-For the rest of the semester, Victor is technically on Team Vincent, but he still waves at Albert when they pass on the grounds.

-Vincent and Victor go off campus to a house party with alcohol! Albert doesn’t actually show up to steal the spotlight this time. And...that kinda pisses Vincent off. Where IS he? He usually shows up to these things -

-Victor tells him to pleeeaaaase stop obsessing about Albert, please. (But Victor also kinda wishes he was there and isn’t sure why.)

-Later in the night, some beefy upperclassman starts a fight and threatens Vincent. Vincent and Victor are both buzzed and riled up. Victor jumps in and decks the guy to protect Vincent. The guy decks him right back and HARDER. So Vincent tackles the dude because now HE’S protecting Victor.

-They both end up in the hospital with broken bones. Roommates, again. And when they look at each other across their hospital room, they realize something has changed. That they now know they would defend each other to the death, and each has to repay the loyalty of the other. They’re in this for the long haul, and most certainly not going to request new roommates.

-They get their classwork shipped into the hospital and have some nice calm chats with each other, away from the buzz of student life.

-Albert, however, suddenly has his archnemesis and his lab partner both MISSING and it’s driving him insane. Where are they where are they where are they

-When they get released from the hospital and finally go back to campus, Albert has to refrain from RUNNING UP TO THEM AND HUGGING THEM BOTH. HIS LIFE HAD NO MEANING

-Instead he says “Pity. I’d’ve hoped that you’d die and be out of my hair.”

-Vincent and Victor can’t really admit how much he was the missing piece of their lives either.

-It’s gonna be a few interesting years at RMU.

[hermannsthumb]

39 for winter prompt please? It will be so cute!!!! College au...

39. i’m ready to pull out my hair because of winter finals when you offer me a free hot cocoa if i use your flashcards to quiz you for your exams

from winter writing prompts here

honestly this IS cute. and i just finished off my last finals myself so it’s topical. college au, with ideas pulled from this headcanon post I made over the summer especially

----------------------

It’s not technically Newt’s spot in the library, because it’s not like he’s stuck his name onto it or anything, and he only gets it about two-thirds of the times he comes in here to study, but he still thinks of it as being his. He usually turns right back around if it’s taken because it’s the best spot in the whole damn building; private, comfortable as hell, by the air vents (so there’s always a constant supply of either A/C or heat), with two working outlets (not just one), and close enough to the vending machines that Newt can sneak a granola bar or pretzels over while he does his work if he needs to without being snapped at by the librarian at the front desk. (You get crumbs in a computer keyboard one time.) Absolutely optimal circumstances for getting his work done. Newt’s never more productive in his schoolwork than when he sits his ass down in his spot for two hours and plugs in his earbuds.

Of course, on the eve of his massive biochem final, after he trudged all the way across campus in a stupid snowstorm, it would be taken; of course it would be taken by Hermann Gottlieb.

The two of them don’t get along by traditional standards, and they don’t really get along by Newt standards, either. Hermann is an international student in Newt’s year, on loan—indefinitely at this point, it feels like—from TU Berlin, though his prissy English accent doesn’t quite match up to what that and Gottlieb would suggest. He wears oversized, outdated clothing, has an intimidatingly brilliant mind, and typically sports a sour expression which matches his personality pretty marvelously. Newt would consider them rivals, in the sense that they’re pretty much neck-and-neck for the highest grade in their shared classes. He’s also Newt’s lab partner. And now he’s in Newt’s spot.

“Dude,” Newt says, sadly.

It cuts through the quiet room much more loudly than Newt intended. Hermann, who had been fixated on an imposing stack of notepaper, startles, and almost sends the top few pages floating to the ground. He pushes his glasses back up to glare at Newt. “What do you want?” he hisses.

“You’re in my spot,” Newt says.

Hermann rolls his eyes. “I didn’t see your bloody name on it. If you’re going to try to ask me to move, don’t bother. I’m not going to.” He turns a page of his notepaper aggressively; the entire thing is covered in one long equation Newt doesn’t recognize, written in Hermann’s cramped, messy scrawl. It must be for one of the two classes they don’t have together. “I’ve got a final tomorrow morning at—”

“Okay,” Newt says. “We’ll just have to share, then.” He grabs a nearby vacant chair and slides it up against the other side of the desk. It’s not his spot, but it’s still near the heating vents, and he still has access to the two outlets. As long as he knocks Hermann’s laptop charger out of one, anyway. At least Hermann was the one who took it and not a stranger.

“Hm,” Hermann says. He sniffs distastefully.

“I’ll be quiet,” Newt says.

Hermann flips another page.

“I hope you’re planning on completing your half of our final lab report,” he says. “It’s due next Tuesday. In case you’ve forgotten.”

“Just gotta proofread it,” Newt lies, because he had forgotten it, and he does still need to complete it. It’s not like it’ll take him more than ten minutes though. It’s under control. He hefts his way-too-heavy tote bag onto the desk, and the whole thing shudders; Hermann grabs the edge of his notepaper stack and eyes him warningly. “Anyway, I’ve got other shit to worry about right now. I have a final tomorrow morning, too.”

“Unfortunate,” Hermann says. “I suppose you won’t be leaving any time soon, then.”

“Not a chance,” Newt says. “Sorry, partner.”

They actually work in silence for the better part of an hour. Under normal circumstances—when it’s not finals, when they break apart from the main group for their labwork, or even when they sometimes, sometimes get coffee or a meal in the dining hall together—they’d be arguing about dumb shit by now, and probably would have been arguing for a while, but Newt suspects Hermann is as tired as he is. And as stressed. And as cold. (They really need to blast the heat in here already, damn it.) It’s kinda nice, actually, chilling with Hermann like this.

Newt doesn’t dare break the calm until he finishes translating his class notes into a stack of index cards, and taps Hermann’s arm awkwardly. Hermann heaves a sigh and fixes those dumb librarian glasses on him. “What is it, Newton?”

“Can you quiz me?” Newt says.

Hermann frowns. “Quiz you?”

“Please?” Newt says. He waves the cards in the air. “Please, please, please? You’d really be doing me a solid, dude. It’s only twenty cards. Or twenty-five. It’s just some definitions and—”

“Newton,” Hermann says. “I am sorry, but I am simply far too busy to even consider it. I—”

“Look, what if I quizzed you right back for your shit?” Newt says. “Or got you a snack or something? A coffee? They have those bottles of lattes in the vending machine by the water fountains. Or you can have all the rest of my semester meal swipes, I don’t even care, seriously. Or my meal points. You can—”

“Newton, please,” Hermann cuts in. “I don’t want your bloody—swipes, or points. I have enough of my own left as it is. I suppose I could use some caffeine, but…”

“On it,” Newt says.

The lattes are gone from the vending machine, of course, by the time Newt gets there. His only options are a doubleshot espresso energy drink (which he thinks might send Hermann, who pointedly only picks out the decaf tea bags in the dining hall, into cardiac arrest), or to stick a few quarters into an ancient-looking instant hot drink machine for either watery black coffee or watery hot chocolate. Newt digs around in his pockets and counts his spare change: he has enough for both. Mocha it is. Hope Hermann doesn’t mind.

“Oh, by Jove, that smells atrocious,” Hermann says when Newt slides it over. He wrinkles his nose. “What happened to the—?"

“All out,” Newt says. Who says By Jove? He slides over his index cards next, and Hermann picks them up glare. “Alright, let’s get started.”

They power through the stack; Newt does decently, enough to pass the final if he actually remembers all of it, which he thinks means he can call it a night. Hermann declines Newt’s offer to return the favor. “It would go over your head,” he insists. Like a smug bastard. Whatever. “But thank you for the…” (He clears his throat.) “Coffee.”

He hasn’t even touched it. Newt shrugs. “Sure. I guess I’ll call it a night, then.” He begins to shove his shit back into his tote bag. If he’s quick enough (and lucky enough), he might be able to catch one of the campus shuttles on its route past the library before they go out of service for the night, and he won’t have to walk through the snow again. “You wanna head out with me? We can walk back together from the shuttle stop.” He and Hermann don’t really live in dorms too close to each other’s, because Newt has one of the nicer upperclassman dorms and study abroad students get stuck with the freshman, but they’re at least on the same half of campus. They’ve walked back from class together sometimes before.

“Ah, no,” Hermann says. “I’ve got more work to do, I’m afraid. It’ll be some time before I’m finished.”

There are dark shadows under his eyes; Newt feels a twinge of sympathy. The thought of Hermann having to walk all the way back to his dorm, in the snow, and the dark, and the cold, all alone… “Hey, look,” Newt says. “What if I waited for you?” When Hermann begins to protest, Newt adds a quick lie: “I’m pretty sure I already missed the last shuttle, anyway, and I hate walking back home alone. It’s creepy.”

Hermann hms, and he shakes his head, and then—to Newt’s surprise—he nods. “Only if you’re sure,” he says.

“Totally,” Newt says.

He smiles and drops back down in his chair. He might be imagining it, but he’s sure (when Hermann returns the smile) that Hermann’s ears have gone a little pink.

[critical-thinking-is-mandatory]

miraculous ladybug and smart characters. 

there’s actually quite a few smart characters in miraculous ladybug, but the only one we’re really made to believe is smart is max.

this got very long so i’m putting it under a cut.

max kante. there’s no denying that he’s smart, but if you’re writing a smart character and you decide to make them like max well....you’ve misunderstood what makes a person smart.

what does max do to ‘prove’ that he’s smart?

well he:

lists percentages of probability

recalls obscure facts

made an AI robot friend

uses big words

i’ve probably missed something but this is how we’re shown that max is smart. and well it’s not wrong, you do need to be smart to make such a sophisticated AI as markov but...

spouting exact probabilities and facts doesn’t actually make you smart.

for starters, recalling facts is an aspect of memory not understanding, and understanding concepts is a better indicator of intelligence than memorising concepts.

my senior physics teacher really liked to make a point of this by letting us take our own formula sheets into exams. the kicker was that we only had to apply our understanding of the formulas, not whether or not we could remember them in the first place.

as for percentage probability, well, i’ve only touched on probability in my university career but modelling the probability of real life situations includes a lot more complexity and accounting for error than is really possible from just whacking a few numbers into a calculator.

and the big words, well. most often people who use big words during casual conversation are usually people pretending that they’re smarter than they actually are. 

basically, max is your stereotypical Smart Character TM, and like most stereotypes, there’s a lot of wrong information floating around about said character type. 

(just an FYI this is not to say that stereotypes about smart people are in anyway as harmful as stereotypes based on race, gender, sexuality, or neurodivergent people. this is just an examination of what people get wrong with smart characters.)

so, if that’s wrong, and smart people don’t all list facts and percentage probability, and use big words and make robot friends, how can we know a character is smart then?

well, ‘smart’ is a lot more complicated than media, especially kids media, likes to present it as. we’re always led to believe that a character (and thus real life people) are only smart if they excel in STEM subject areas. so smart characters speak in technobabble, are really good at programming and robotics and physics and chemistry, always get the best grades in school, and so on and so forth.

and that’s just not true.

there’s so much more to being smart than maths and ‘hard sciences’ and good grades.

for starters, the grading system used by schools and tertiary education systems is biased towards students who can recall facts aka people with good memories and people who have dozens of spare hours to spend studying.

now, there are tons of reasons for people to have difficulties recalling facts. the first is that memorising things is hard. this goes doubly so for people with memory problems associated with mental illness or neurodivergence or certain disabilities.

on the second point, you might notice that students at private schools (upper-middle to upper class students) tend to have better grades. going off of the ‘better grades = smarter people’ logic that means rich people are smarter than poor people. i shouldn’t have to explain how that’s bad.

(newsflash: it’s also not true. kids from wealthier families don’t have to spend their spare time at work and their parents can afford private tutors and teachers at private schools tend to be held to higher standards.)

as for being good at STEM subjects, i’m going to let you guys in on a little secret. it comes from practice. you don’t have to be naturally gifted in maths to excel at it. being as i call it, STEM brained versus humanities brained, may make some of the concepts easier to understand initially but it’s really not a make-or-break situation.

(the girl in my grade in high school who got the highest marks for advanced maths did so out of hard work alone. she’s very smart, but humanities oriented. my little sister got a state prize for her scores in physics, and let me tell you, maths does not come easy to her.)

so, if it’s not good grades, or being good at STEM, or having robot sidekicks, or speaking technobabble, what does make a character/person smart?

well it’s about the thought process.

questioning, weighing options, using logic to get the most reward with the least risk.

this site here (springhole.net) is an excellent resource for writing and roleplaying and also has a more in-depth walk-through of how smart people and characters work.

smart people and smart characters tend to, you guessed it, use their heads. they pay attention, and often notice details that other people miss. 

all of these things are actually pretty subtle (and we all know the miraculous creators can’t do subtlety) so we’re actually seeing a lot more smart characters in miraculous than we’re being led to believe.

like i said before, most obvious is max. max’s intelligence is frequently shown to us with all the grace of a frying pan to the ear. less obvious but still obvious enough that every corner of the fandom has noticed are marinette and adrien.

i’ll get to marinette in a minute, but for now we’ll talk about adrien.

adrien is, as far as i can recall seeing in canon, stated to get good grades. correct me if i’m wrong of course, but that’s the only thing i can think of to prove adrien as smart. getting good grades is one of the main stereotypes about smart people so check one for adrien.

adrien is also obscenely wealthy and has a controlling father with high expectations so, as far as his grades go, i doubt it’s down to any natural gifts of superior intellect.

like i said before, people with money have access to all the best resources, the best teachers, the best tutors, and of course time. adrien’s days are scheduled by nathalie, and with gabriel’s expectations of perfection i very much doubt she’d be skimping on adrien’s study time.

so, adrien’s good grades: probably not actually an indicator of intelligence, but of practice.

marinette is also stated to get good grades but that alone isn’t the only proof we get of her being smart. marinette is constantly coming up with plans, making things, is clever enough to leave herself a clue in oblivio to get help, as well as figure out that she and adrien were actually superheroes, and she’s proven to have a high level of emotional intelligence (not necessarily an indicator of overall intelligence and more linked to empathy but the point still stands).

marinette’s good grades we’ve seen clearly come from practice, but there are so many other ways she proves herself to be smart.

alya is one character that certainly gets written off as being dumb by the fandom, when actually, i doubt she is.

canon hasn’t done alya or the rest of the characters any favours by doing things like having lila be a pretty average liar, and making alya think chloe was ladybug in lady wifi, but when she and other characters aren’t being dumbed down because that’s the only way the creators know how to make the plot work, she’s actually pretty clever.

alya knows how clumsy marinette can be so she made a copy of the important video of ladybug before showing it to marinette, the ladyblog is really popular so alya’s clearly got an understanding of how to make her writing appealing to an audience, and we see in the ladybug episode that alya takes a methodical approach to try and clear marinette’s name.

so it’s not obvious, and whoever is writing the show needs some serious help to not make everyone look stupid because their villain isn’t competent enough, but alya is smart. we’re just not being led along by the nose and having the fact shoved in our faces.

there are other characters too, nino, nathalie, nathaniel, i’d say juleka and luka too probably but i’m not going to go into them right now.

what i’m trying to say is: smart characters aren’t always obvious and smart people don’t usually look like the smart people in cartoons. there are a lot more smart characters in ml than you probably realise, just like in real life. good at STEM doesn’t equal smart! and if you have to make your usual characters dumb to make your villain/plot point work you’re not as good a writer as you think you are.

[pinkhairedlily]

Wanting Validations

Chapter 5 of The Spring He Came Back | 5 of 12

“Momo, don’t forget your bento,” Baba called out just before Hinamori dashed towards her bicycle. She grabbed the two packed bento from her grandmother and pecked her cheek.

“I’ll try my best to give this to Hitsugaya today.” She was having trouble finding Hitsugaya without being caught by professors and other supervisors. “He’s gonna miss out on the fresh watermelon slices you packed in otherwise.”

Despite their staggered meetings, she found herself in high spirits. Dr. Aizen has continued to depend on her more, even letting her write a draft for a book section. She wasn’t sure if she had the qualifications to write such. She was only finishing her first semester, but the professor tempered her self-doubts with assurances.

“I don’t know if you ever noticed this, Hinamori. You’re a fast learner. You have the highest grades in your section, even above the upper middle-class folk,” Dr. Aizen handed her a large bulk of papers. “These are some designs I’m planning to use for my large-scale project next year. Go through them and annotate for me, would you?”

She was continuously yawning until she reached the academy. She glanced at the clock tower in the middle of the campus grounds and figured she can slip in a quick nap before her morning classes. She was busy deciphering the documents in the past few weeks to the point that she would sometimes go without sleep.

“I think I have a migraine,” Momo grumbled to herself. “Dr. Aizen should be consistent with his handwriting. The varying strokes in each document are like sending me on an acid trip.”

“What sends you into an acid trip?” Hitsugaya popped in behind her, dressed in the flashy, identifying grabs of a Soul member. He reached out to grab her arm and led her through a narrow alley between the buildings.

“Hey, good morning Shirou,” Momo said sarcastically while trying to match his steps. They arrived in front of a small almost-dilapidated room. “Are you gonna murder me?”

“Maybe, do you want me to shower you with yellow petals?” he joked. The room inside was definitely not worn down. The three Rs were there but were all asleep in bunk beds. Rukia and Renji sleeping together in the lower bunk with backs behind each other. That made Hinamori blush until she remembered Hitsugaya saying they were also childhood friends. Rangiku was passed out in the upper bunk with a subtle smell of alcohol.

“I see your nostrils twitching. Rangiku needs alcohol sometimes to power through her exams,” he gestured for me to sit on a day bed on the corner of the room.

“What is this?” Hinamori asked, feeling a little slow because she was only able to get two hours of sleep. She sat beside him and controlled the urge to close her eyes.

“It’s an escape dungeon. They think this is the sleeping quarters of the custodians, which of course is, but they rented it out to us.” Seeing Momo settled, he started to fill the nearby kettle to boil some water. “Did you get converted into a coffee addict or are you still my tea-loving friend Momo?”

“Black tea please.” Momo smiled at him. “How erratic are your schedules? Our class is about to start in one hour.”

He glanced at her, smirking. “How erratic is your schedule? Your eyebags are heavier than mine. Oh, is that a bento?”

“Baba made this. It has watermelon inside.” At such an opportune moment, Hitsugaya’s stomach grumbled. “Come on, let’s eat together like the good old days.”

She thought he was about to grab his bento box, but he reached out across her, their faces looming closer to each other. “Why don’t you sneak in some snoozes while I eat?” He was arranging the pillows behind her.

Hinamori woke up to the school bells ringing, a flurry of robes, and cacophony of curses. Slightly disoriented, she found herself waking up from Hitsugaya’s lap who was frozen red in his place, the empty bento box on the table beside him and a gray flask. How she got to that position she will never know because panic started to set in.

“Good morning, Hinamori!” Renji and Rukia both yelled before running through the door.

“Gotta go, childhood friends. Gotta thank you Histugaya. Renting this place primarily to see Hinamori and secondarily for us to rest is genius,” Rangiku said as she traipsed outside.

“Fuck,” Hitsugaya muttered under his breath, truly embarrassed. “Here’s your black tea Momo. Tell Baba her bento gave me the energy I needed.” He handed her the gray flask without meeting her eyes. “You gotta go, although your classroom’s much nearer.”

Still disoriented, she started towards the exit. Remembering a nagging question in her mind, she halted and glanced back at him, “Shirou-chan.”

“Hmm?” He still wasn’t meeting her gaze.

“How did you preserve the daffodils? It was below zero temperatures that week. Frost would have already killed them.”

This time he looked at her. “I just sprayed them with a solution I made, Momo. But I know you would have found a way to alter them naturally.”

Hitsugaya always has this weird way of validating her. His trust in her abilities has grown so much despite the time that they were apart. She wanted to honor that. “Thank you.”

-------------------------------------- 

It has soon become their morning routine – Hinamori with her bento boxes that soon included the rest of the group, Hitsugaya with the black tea for her and coffee for the rest, and few minutes of snooze on the sofa slash day bed. It wasn’t as if they haven’t slept beside each other since they were kids, but the slight reprieve was something to look forward to. They would be able to slip in mundane conversations in between, but almost often Hinamori would doze off in the middle of Hitsugaya’s rants. She has fully exchanged her nights with sleepless annotations for the experiment designs. She knew Dr. Aizen was ambidextrous, but it bothered her that the blueprints and guides frequently changed handwriting styles, and the discussion structures varied. Well, it couldn’t be helped that the professor’s thoughts ran too wildly that his hands were barely able to keep up. By the end of the semester, she was able to finish the book section, submit the annotations with her own suggestions for recalibration, and top her class.

“I think it was only a matter of time, Hinamori.” Rangiku quickly stole Hitsugaya’s sandwich from his hands and sat across them in their (open) secret hideout.

“What is?” Hinamori resisted the urge to clean the room. Printouts were sprawled everywhere, coffee stains on beds and tables, and a lot of instant ramen packs. While general admission students have the benefit of semestral break, the core Soul group tended to be occupied with competitions, conferences, and exhibits abroad. Hitsugaya’s group will be traveling to Karakura next week to compete against the infamous Ishida Uryuu, a prodigy of optics in physics.

“Why don’t you make your own sandwich Rangiku?” Hitsugaya grunted as he downed the last bit of his coffee and decided to lie down on the day bed behind his childhood friend’s sitting figure. After a minute or two, he started to snore.

“Your membership to the core group, of course. Hard to miss your superb accomplishments,” Rangiku replied. “Your radiant personality is also a plus. That would make it easier to hang out with us.”

Hinamori blushed at the compliment. “Thanks, Rangiku, but I really doubt I’ll get in.” The gap in expertise and intellect between core and general admission students was assumed to be wide enough to hinder friendships between the two groups, but she never felt that way with them. Granted that she was Hitsugaya’s friend, they never reacted strongly to her addition. It was true however that there was a gap. What inherent genius they have been born with, she compensated with hard work.

“Wish us luck though. I hate to see the bastard Ichigo smirking if we fail in the exhibit.” She’d be exaggerating, but veins really started to pulse around Renji’s temples.

“Stupid, there’s no if. We won’t fail. As if I’d let Ishida rub his win over my dead body,” Rukia interjected with the intensity of her competitiveness. She turned to Hinamori with an embarrassed smile. “Well, the deliberation will probably happen over the break. With us out in Karakura, they’d probably not look much into your relationship with Hitsugaya or with us.”

“Apparently, according to the academy’s standards, friendships are not meritorious. Such a stupid rule,” Renji added. This was the reason why they avoided letting both students and professors see them together. Only Dr. Aizen knew of their friendship. He made her feel like she could trust him with her secrets.

As if Rangiku read her mind, she quipped, “You’ve been meeting Dr. Aizen lately, right Hinamori?”

“I volunteered as his research assistant. The professor has a lot of projects with the academy so I do my best to ease the load.”

“How many projects is he handling?”

“He has five large-scale projects programmed for this year.”

“And he’s doing it solo? Wow, that’s a lot of work and a lot of funding.”

“Thank God for the investors, I guess.”

“If you get accepted as a core member, he would lose a great RA,” Renji assured her. A big question mark was probably on her face because he immediately expounded his statement. “Core members are expected to complete projects on their specialization. If you’re as genius as the midget sleeping over there or Rukia’s brother, you can complete as many as you like. But most of the time, we work in groups like how professors work together too.”

Rukia aided him, “What Renji is trying to say, you won’t have the time to help Dr. Aizen anymore.”

A foreign feeling crept along her insides. Over the years, she has mastered the act of hiding her emotions with a nonchalant smile, and she did this now to brush off three pairs of probing eyes. Confusing emotions from the conversation accompanied her to the semestral break party organized by her section. Balloons and streamers decorated the interior of their go-to ramen house. The owner, enamored with the boisterous students, provided free-flowing broth and discounted noodles refill. Several of her classmates tapped her on the shoulder and congratulated her for landing on the top.

In the midst of jovial cacophony, she felt untethered. Needing the space to rationalize her thoughts, she quietly slipped out of the party and traced her steps back to the academy. She was floating in-between circles, trying to walk beside her friend and at the same time, trying to make sense of who she was and what she wanted to be. Her memories brought her back to her first conversation with Dr. Aizen where she truly felt seen and needed.

But she was spending her days playing catch up to someone who doesn’t need her. Did she really want to join the core group to realize her dreams or did she want to join simply because of Toshirou? She found herself in front of Dr. Aizen’s office. “Professor.”

The door opened, revealing a disheveled glass-less Aizen. His furrowed brows immediately softened when he saw her. “Hinamori, come in.”

Hinamori hesitated because she didn’t know why she went to his office in the first place and what she wanted to talk about. But she stepped in anyway without further prodding, afraid to disappoint him. “Professor, I-“

“I saw your annotations, and I appreciated the suggestions for calibrations. You made my job much easier, Hinamori. You brought these projects closer to completion at a much earlier date.” He brushed his fingers through his brown hair and sighed contentedly. “But I need you to do one more thing for me. It’s very urgent, and only you can do it.”

Warmth coursed through her body. He trusted her well enough to do this. “Anything for you, Dr. Aizen.”

He quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. It was a description of a notebook– plain black cover, velvet finish, coffee-stained surfaces, and the first few pages ripped out. “It’s my long-lost notebook. I’ve searched everywhere, but I cannot find it. Maybe you can look through the libraries.”

“It will be difficult, Professor, given the broad description, but I will not let you down.”

“Of course, Hinamori. I know you too well already. You exceed my expectations. Do find it quickly for our funders. They are expecting me to complete the study over the break.”

“Over the break! That’s short notice, Dr. Aizen. You need to rest!” she complained. Embarrassed of her outburst, she covered her face with her small hands, flushing red at her visible concern towards her mentor. “I mean, please think of your health Sir.”

The brown-haired doctor looked at her incredulously and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I really lucked out with you, Hinamori. Why are you here again? Do you need to tell me something?”

She peeked at him through her fingers but found she can’t return his steady gaze. Straying her eyes to the floor, she requested, “Please deny my membership to the core group, Sir. I want to stay by your side more.” All of her senses were overwhelming her because of his close proximity and the comfortable weight of his large hands on her shoulders. Her emotions may have gone into override when he pulled her into a hug.

“Of course, Hinamori. You’re my one and only precious research assistant.”

She found the notebook the following day in the same library where she and Hitsugaya used to go, conveniently so as it was positioned beside her most borrowed ecology book. It was a tattered piece of document, but the experiment design and the parameters set were the first of their kind. She brought it immediately to Dr. Aizen and suggested to patent it. “You could name the methodology after you, Professor. Or better if it’s a theory – Aizen Laws on Ecological Succession or something.”

“Aren’t you a doll? You always say the most interesting things.”

With the set deadline for this particular study, Hinamori agreed to accompany the professor in a fieldwork on a mountain outside of town for a week. She would be back in time for Baba’s birthday.

--------------------------------------

She didn’t make it back in time. She got stuck with Dr. Aizen for two weeks in the mountain because he needed to repeat his sampling, not that she regretted it. Baba will understand. I expect she’ll be angry for a few days, but I’ll make it up to her. I just missed one birthday after all.

What she didn’t expect was Hitsugaya standing guard under the camphor tree, worried, angry, and defiant at the same time.

“Where the fuck did you go, Momo?”

NEXT CHAPTER | 6 OF 12 | IN RETROSPECT

[dalamjisung]

what you want ❋ bambam

word count: 4213

genre: angst, college!au

pairing: reader x bambam

description: people have been feeding you lies about the boy in your class. it’s time to learn the truth by yourself

Everyone knows him before he even says his name. Well, before he even says his nickname; his name is too long and too foreign for most. It starts with his clothes; all designer brands and fashion forward, with their bright colors and bedazzles. Then, the accessories come next, shinning more than the street lamps in the Main Ave. But it is mostly his attitude that confirms his identity; from his smirk and brooding eyes, to even the way he walks, going around as if he owns the place and everyone in it. He screams young and rich; and indeed he is. BamBam is probably the richest kid you know, and he is not afraid to flaunt it. 

You two have been in the same college for two years now, and in the same class for about a month, since the beginning of the semester, and lo and behold, BamBam is yet to learn your name. He is everything you despise; arrogant, stupid, and inconsiderate– or at least, you heard him to be like that. You’ve never interacted with the boy with the few exceptions of homework exchange in the class group chat, and you hope to stay that way; you aren’t interested in whatever hookup tales and travel stories he has to tell, your life is hard enough as it is, trying to balance work and school, you didn’t have to feel bad about being broke, either. 

The problem is that you were really good friends with Jackson, a Chinese exchange upperclassmen, and he, in turn, is really good friends with BamBam. You are also friends with Youngjae and Jinyoung, two great guys that happen to also be friends with BamBam. It made you cautious, if anything, since every time you want to vent about the stupidities of the Thai boy, you have to make sure that it isn’t to his friends, not wanting to put them in a very uncomfortable position– and that is really hard, considering the fact that BamBam is good friends with everyone. 

It isn’t until the day before your Literature midterm that you lose it. The college is already in pure chaos thanks to the exams, and people are being even more inconsiderate than usual, but you don’t have it in you to complain– you are too shy to say anything. Even though you are the class’ representative, it is really hard for you to be the center of attentions; it makes you incredibly uncomfortable to have all eyes on you, and you signed up for the class rep. position as a way to challenge yourself to be more out there. It had been Jackson’s idea, and he’s helping you out ever since. 

“Excuse me.”

You look up from where you are standing just to come face to face with Kim Yugyeom, aka BamBam’s best friend. 

“Yes?” You ask, voice wavering a little bit. You have to admit; this boy’s height is enough to intimidate you, now adding the beauty on top of it all is just too much. 

“You’re the class representative, right?” He asks with a wide smile.

“…yeah,” You nod slowly. What’s the catch? “What can I help you with, Yugyeom?”

“Oh, you even know my name,” He teases, throwing you a wink. “I just need help with the new topic in Psychology… I wasn’t in school last week and I’m afraid that if I don’t catch up now, I never will.”

“Oh,” Your eyes go wide. You never said anything to anyone, but you’ve also heard things about Kim Yugyeom, and they were the same, if not worse, them the things you’ve heard about BamBam. You wanted to say no, and just save yourself from the disaster that this is bound to turn into, but you can’t– this is your job, after all. “Sure. I-I can help you, I think…”

“Great!” He smiles even wider and for a second you think his cheeks are about to rip. “Would today at 5PM work? At the coffee shop in front of the dance building”

“Yeah,” You sigh, already throwing your plans to re-watch Friends out of the window. “I guess it does.”

“Thank you so much, class rep!” Yugyeom gives you two thumbs up and his eyes are almost disappearing under the big smile on his face. Suddenly, his face falls, and his eyes are not two squints anymore, but two huge brown orbs staring at you intently. “Ah! I forgot to ask! I have a friend who was also gone and is also struggling with the new topic… is it alright if he comes with?”

“Of course, who–“

Before you can ask, Yugyeom is already gone, running through the halls squealing in excitement. You sigh, tiredly, already knowing who to blame for this. 

[y/n: how could you betray me like this?]

[jackson: idk what you’re talking about]

[y/n: fess up, heathen]

[y/n: you were the one that told yugyeom to ask me for help]

[jackson: goddammit he told you, didn’t he?]

[y/n: he didn’t have to -_-]

[y/n: yugyeom doesn’t care about school, but he does care about his hyungs]

[jackson: lol what?]

[y/n: what?]

[jackson: who told you that?]

[jackson: yugyeom is the biggest nerd I’ve ever met]

[jackson: and I’m friends with YOU]

You roll your eyes at that. Sure, you like getting good grades, and sure, you might not be the most socially active person, but you wouldn’t call yourself a nerd. And you wouldn’t call Yugyeom a nerd, either… at least not from what you’ve been told. Well, I guess people can be wrong.

Shrugging it off, you try to focus on the rest of your classes, but you can’t. If you had it wrong about Yugyeom, what else could you possibly have been misinformed? Shaking it off, you start making your way to the coffee shop, hoping to get there a little earlier than Yugyeom and his friend to collect yourself and prepare your notes. 

You realize your efforts were in vain when you see the two boys through the window, with a couple of girls laughing at something they said. Your eyes didn’t miss the pile of books and notes on the table and you smile a little; maybe you were wrong about them, and maybe that is okay. Maybe the friend he brought is a nice guy, and maybe you could make new friends, and maybe– just maybe– Jackson is right; they are worth a shot. 

The door jingles when you walk in and you smile when you see Mark behind the counter.

“Y/N,” He calls loudly, and you walk over just for him to give you a cup of coffee. “What’re you doing here?”

“I came over to help Yugyeom and his friend with some work they missed when they were out last week,” You shrug, and Mark eyes go wide.

“Uh, I thought you didn’t like BamBam…” Mark goes off slowly, a little confused with the situation.

“What?” You laugh. “I said Yugyeom.”

“You’re in for a surprise,” It’s all Mark says before walking away to help another customer. 

Just as you are about to call him back, Yugyeom walks over to you and grabs your heavy bag. 

“Over here, Y/N,” He smiles and guides you to the table you saw him before. “Girls, it was nice meeting you, but now we have to get back to studying.”

“We’ll see you guys at the party Friday,” One of them says and leaves, chuckling with her friend. 

“Y/N, thank you so much for agreeing to help us out,” Yugyeom starts, as you focused on getting your books out of your bag. “This is BamBam, by the way, I’m not sure if you two ever met.”

You’re in for a surprise. 

This is it; you were going to kill Mark Tuan. 

“Nice to meet you,” BamBam smiles and sure, it’s adorable and innocent looking, but you aren’t about to be fooled. “I’m BamBam.”

“I know,” You say shortly, ignoring the hand. “I am sure everyone knows.”

BamBam’s brows go up high and his eyes get wide. 

“Sure…” He says uncomfortably. “Should we start?”

You smile awkwardly at that and tell them to open their books. The evening goes by quickly– Yugyeom and BamBam, as much as you hate saying it, are great students. They pay attention and seem to grasp the subject quickly, even taking notes and asking questions. BamBam is not as enthusiastic as Yugyeom, but you can clearly see he is trying his best. Maybe I was wrong, you sigh in defeat, looking at the dark street as you wait for them to finish a worksheet you gave them. Maybe he is not that bad… maybe people are wrong about him. 

“Finished!” BamBam announces with a bright grin. You take a quick look to find that most of his answers were correct, with the exception of a couple. He would’ve been one of the highest scores in the class had he been there on the day of the quiz. 

“Well, congrats,” You smile a bit and he mirrors you. “You got it mostly right. I don’t think you need my help any further.”

“What about me?” Yugyeom hands your the worksheet and you laugh joyously as you read it over. “You got them all right,” You chuckle, honestly happy about the progress of the two boys. “You guys are good to go.”

They do a weird handshake and then look at you again. “Thank you so much for helping us, Y/N,” Yugyeom smiles. “Now we’re all caught up with the class.”

“And to celebrate,” BamBam smirks and you can feel something change; a switch in the air, per se, and suddenly there is a slight tension looming over you guys. “Why don’t you come to the party on Friday? It’s over at Jaebeom hyung’s and–“

“I’ll pass,” Your smile is gone now, and all you can think of is the huge amount of people that would certainly be there– the bodies, the loud music, the smell… all of those together are not a good combination for you. “But thanks, BamBam.”

“Why?” He laughs, and it feels a little odd, almost as if he is laughing at you. “It’ll be fun, come on!”

“Bam, I think she’s not into that kind of stuff,” Yugyeom tried to reason. 

“Yeah, it’s really not for me,” You shrug. “But thanks, anyways.”

“No, don’t knock it ‘till you try it!” BamBam says a little too loudly and you wince, retreating into yourself. “I promise we’ll make it worth your while; you need to relax a little, Y/N!”

And without even knowing, BamBam crossed a line you aren’t sure he can uncross. Mark, hearing all of it as he got ready to leave, made his way over to your table in hopes of smoothing things down, but you were too wind up.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” You are seething, and any normal person could see it. 

“I said you need to relax,” To top it all, BamBam rolls his eyes at you, and you have to hold back from choking him unconscious. “You know, you are always talking about school and all and I just think that if you go to the party, you’ll have fun… for once!”

“I do have fun,” You mumble through gritted teeth, and you see the exact moment BamBam noticed your clenched fists. “And it might not be your concept of fun, but I enjoy it nonetheless. Not all of us shit money and fuck everything that walks; I have things I need to worry about, unlike you. You don’t even know me, what gives you the right to judge me?”

Mark gasps from behind you, and his hands are on yours, pulling you way from BamBam, but the latter holds you by the elbow with a strong grip. You can’t quite get a good look at him because of his hair, but you could feel it; BamBam was pissed and his anger was overpowering.

“That’s very hypocritical of you,” He whispers in your ear. “Class rep.”

Mark drags you out of there before you can answer, but in all honesty, you weren’t sure you could– he was right, after all. 

                                                       ------------------------

The week goes by quickly and Friday approaches as if it was a very important day– and it could be, if you consider movie night with Jackson and Jinyoung a special occasion that occurs every week. What you get, though, when you arrive at their place, is not what you are expecting. 

Jackson looks out of the ordinary good; he has a nice shirt on and his hair is sleeked back. Jinyoung is sitting on the couch looking like he always does, yet still looking incredible. They were clearly waiting for you, since you barely have time to put the snack bag down before your friends are pushing you out the door and inside a taxi. You squeeze in the back, confused and slightly amused, as you hear Jackson spit out the final address. 

“Isn’t that Jaebeom’s address?” You mutter out loud, and just as you connect the dots, the car is moving. “Guys, no.”

“Yes.” They say in unison. 

“Enough is enough, Y/N,” Jackson states. “We’ve always let you be because we know you get really anxious about parties and new people, but Mark told us what happened a few days ago. Look, it was not right for BamBam to just tell you all of that, he doesn’t know half of your story, but you need to stop this.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You live your life studying and working– which is great! Don’t get us wrong, we’re not saying for you to drop all of your responsibilities and party all the time,” Jinyoung shrugs. “But you are 21… You are living your prime days doing homework. That’s not living. We’ve always been here for you, and we will always be here for you, life goes beyond school. You have to admit, BamBam was right– it’s time to have fun.”

You groan, pained to hear those words. “I know he was right,” You mumble, looking out of the window. “I know I’m a hypocritical bitch. Anything else you want to rub in my face, Jinyoung?”

“That’s not what I meant at all,” He gasps. “What the hell did BamBam say to you?”

You shake your head in disappointment. Not at the boys; they had a point. You really needed to live beyond your dorm walls and have some fun, as much as you hated hearing that; it hurt on a level that you never wanted to reach. You were disappointed in yourself. It wasn’t always like this, and the fact that you allowed yourself to fall back into this routine killed you. You weren’t happy, you knew that, but you were content, and for a second, that seemed better than being vulnerable. 

“Just some stuff,” You finally answer. “He wasn’t wrong, though.”

“But apparently we were,” Jackson sighs, worried eyes set on you. He could read you like a book. “I’m sorry, Y/N, we don’t know the full picture, and we thought this would be a good idea but–”

Well isn’t this ironic?

“We can go back if you want?” Jinyoung frowns, ready to tell the driver to go back. He could see the hurt in your face, and it killed him to see you like this. They hated that you were always cooped up in your room on the weekends, complaining about your loud neighbors and watching dramas online, but seeing you hurt is way worse. “We don’t want you to change, love; we just want to show you something new.”

You nod slowly. “Sure,” You say, taking a deep breath. “I need to go to that party, anyways…”

“You do?!” They look at each other incredulously. 

“Yeah,” You sigh, closing your eyes and enjoying the cold feeling of the glass window on your forehead. “I need to apologize to someone.”

                                                     ------------------------

The events that follow were expected. Jinyoung is whisked away by an excited Yugyeom, whom in return receives a slap to the head. Jackson lasts a little longer with you; holding your hand in a comforting way whenever he noticed you were getting too overwhelmed. Mark and Youngjae join you two, surprised and happy with your presence. They’ve been doing this for so long, you think. And I never knew. Your friends never talked about parties with you, and you never wondered why until today.

“We never wanted to make you uncomfortable,” Youngjae explains once you ask. “We party a lot, to be honest, and we always wanted you to come, but you made it very clear you hate things like this so…”

Your face falls at that. They always stayed in whenever you asked, and you never even gave them the chance to ask you to come out. You felt like the worst friend in the world. 

“I’m sorry,” You say and his eyes go wide. “Next time I promise I’ll come with. I want to have fun with you guys, too.”

“Ya, seriously?” Youngjae smiles wide, surprised. “You can’t take it back!”

“I won’t!” You promise, laughing with your friend. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bad friend, Youngjae.”

“You were never a bad friend, Y/N,” He smiles. “We understand. Movie nights are fun in a different way; they are comfortable and cozy, and if that’s what you needed, we were happy to provide. But sometimes you need some excitement, and that’s what parties are for… we didn’t want to pressure you, so we never said anything. We just waited until you were ready– and I guess you are now.”

You nod, hugging him tight, before wandering off alone, in search of the person you went there to see. You end up in the kitchen, and you think that maybe fetching yourself a beer won’t hurt too much. 

“Here,” You hear someone say from behind you, and your cheeks brighten once you realize you were noticeably lost. “You’re looking for beer, right?”

“Ah,” You turn around and smile. “Yes. Thanks, Yugyeom.”

“Didn’t think I’d see you here after what happened in the coffee shop,” He deadpans, and you can feel it once again. The tension. “You know, I always thought you were pretty cool, Y/N. The hyungs talk about you a lot, and I always saw you as this funny person, even though you don’t talk much.”

You don’t say anything. You know exactly where this is going and you allow it; you deserve it.

“I never pegged you as a judgmental person,” He chuckles. “Mainly because everyone judges you. I don’t know, I thought you’d be all that Jackson hyung told me… but I was wrong. I guess we really don’t know you, after all.”

“That’s not fair,” You chuckle. “I get what you’re saying, and I’m sorry. This is what I came here to do; apologize. But what you’re doing is not fair.”

“How so?” He smiles a bit. 

“I judged unfairly, and for that I apologize,” You say, voice seeping honesty. “But you’re doing the exact same. I had a reason to react the way I did, the same way BamBam had a reason to react the way he did. You’re taking sides, Yugyeom.” “Well, of course I am,” He shrugs. “BamBam is my best friend.”

You laugh at that– a full blown laugh, with your head back and happy giggles in the end. “That does make sense. I am happy he has someone like you, Yugyeom.”

And with those words, the bright smiled boy you met before was back. “Thanks, Y/N. Now, if you must know, BamBam is in the back porch. Things got a little too much for him in here, so he went there to get some air.”

“Thanks Yugy,” You say and before you can leave, he grabs your hand.

“Once you get sorted out with BamBam,” He chuckles. “Can we be friends? Jackson hyung told me some hilarious stories about you, and I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now…”

“Of course we can,” You smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”

“Good or bad?” He shouts, surprising you. “Say good, please.”

“Bye Yugyeom!”

Finding the back porch was harder than you thought, but you manage. You see his jacket before you see him, and in your defense, you couldn’t really not see the bedazzled black jacket on the ground. BamBam is right next to it, though, laying down on the wooden floor, and you panic. Is he alright? Did he drink too much? What–

“Whoever you are,” He says, and his voice is nothing but tired. “Either come here, or leave.”

“Oh, sorry,” You mumble, and his head snaps in your direction. “Do you mind chatting for a bit?”

“Why?” He chuckles humorlessly. “So you can tell me all the things I did wrong? I don’t think so, sweetheart, now why don’t you–“

“I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, you said that before now please–“

“No,” You stand your ground, even though you felt as if your heart was about to beat out of your chest. “I’m really sorry, BamBam. I shouldn’t have believed all of those things people told me; I was stupid and naive. And I shouldn’t have snapped at you back in the coffee shop, but I just thought that–“

“That I was a complete idiot with no purpose in life,” He says harshly. “Sounds about right?”

“Y-Yeah, but–“

“But you realized you were wrong and now you want to apologize so we can be friends.”

“How’d you know?” You ask, voice wavering more than you’d like to admit.

“You’re not the first,” He sighs, frowning. “It seems like there is always a problem with me. And don’t try to deny it– I can see you shaking your head.”

“Well,” You start carefully. “You do come off as a little bit… spoiled.”

BamBam laughs and pats the empty space next to him. Just as you sit down, you hear him talking slowly, as if he, too, needed to process it all. 

“People think I’m this billionaire’s son that doesn’t care about anything but my reputation,” He starts. “But they don’t know half of it. I skip class, I party a lot, so that means I don’t care about school, right?”

“I mean–“

“I’m at the top of the Dean’s list with a full scholarship,” BamBam says curtly, his voice as sharp as a knife. “And if I’m not wrong, you are right under me.”

To say that you were surprised was an understatement. 

“But how do you carry the scholarship when you are barely even on campus?” You ask.

“Who said that? Because the only time I can recall missing class was last week, when I had a business meeting, and my first semester during Freshman year, when I had to fly home for my brother’s wedding.” As BamBam explained things to you, you couldn’t help but notice his hands, fidgeting with each other; is he nervous? 

“The truth is, I’ve noticed you for a while now,” He mumbles with a shy smile, his cheeks blushing, and you swear you’ve never seen such an adorable man before. “People always assume the wrong thing about you, too, so I thought that– I don’t know, I thought that you’d get me. Jackson hyung and Jinyoung hyung always tell me these great things about you, and how you never back down even when you’re struggling and I thought that maybe we could be friends… or something more.”

What?

“But then you’ve never even looked at me,” The sadness you felt from his voice was killing you. “You barely even talked to me, even when you had to talk to everyone for that one field trip… I have to admit, I was kind of hurt. The girl I was crushing on hated my guts, and I didn’t even know why.”

“BamBam,” You gasp, reaching to touch his arm, but he is quick to evade your hand. When his eyes met yours, you swear you were about to break down; the vulnerability, the hurt, the anger. You could see everything. “I’m so sorry.”

“Well, it’s too late now,” He smiles a tight closed-lip smile and you feel your heart breaking. “I’m tired of stuck up people trying to prove they are better then me. I run my own business, that is, by the way, going really well. I have amazing grades in school. I have friends that I can count as if they were my own family. I don’t need anything else.”

“You might not need it,” You say as he gets up. “But you want it. I know you do.”

“What I want clearly doesn’t matter,” He scoffs, walking to the door. “I’m going inside. You should go soon; I know you hate crowded places.”

You feel a weight on your shoulders, and then he’s gone.

When Jinyoung finds you, about an hour later, you were still crying. 

When Jinyoung takes you home, with promises of a better tomorrow, you are still wearing BamBam’s jacket. 

And when Jinyoung finally leaves, worried and defeated, you are already asleep, hand clutching the jacket that you refused to leave behind.

--------------------------------------------------

aaaahhh my first true angst! it felt weird to leave it like that, so I will probably write a part 2! what do you all think? part 2 or nah? Let me know! Love you all and thanks for the endless support <3

[softestsaddestbitch]

December TC Challenge

stole this from @elder-edda (sorry for creeping! just, given the usual demographic of the tc community I was excited to find another 20-smthg)

1) what color is your tc’s hair?

He has just, simple brown hair but he’s starting to go grey which, no lie, is 100% doing it for me.

2) is your tc married?

Yes? He doesn’t wear a ring and I believe she kept her last name which makes me think it’s more of a civil partnership since they’ve been together since the early 2000s at least. But he also will refer to her as “my wife” and was telling me once that they waited until “after they got married” before moving in together.

3) if yes, do you care? would you do something with them regardless of their marriage?

I know these questions are general but I do take offense at the idea of being a homewrecker/other woman. I’ve met his wife, she’s really nice.

4) what’s your worst memory with your tc?

I put my foot in my mouth SO OFTEN. Good lord. Especially my last semester at that school? He was acting weird and I had just realized after fucking ... four years?? that I romantically liked him. So I kept bringing up my weird age fixation and other bs bc I have adhd and am possibly autistic?? and can’t read a room to save my life.

5) what’s your best memory with your tc?

One year we had a really bad snowstorm, so bad in fact that I had my first-ever snow day. The college that I used to go to has four campuses across as many cities, and C has to drive in twice a week to my (old) town from his. Now, morning classes had been canceled but afternoon classes had been given the go-ahead. C, who does not check his emails until he arrives at campus, evidently did not get this message until he was already in town and therefore didn’t have a morning class, but did have an afternoon class. On this day I had a late morning class that had been reinstated, but my prof didn’t get that memo so I also was on campus but didn’t have a class. So I went to visit his office, which I had been doing throughout the semester (I didn’t have a class with him at the time) and we just ... hung out for like 2 hours. It was so nice and one of the anecdotes he told me still haunts me lol.

sidenote: at the time, I hadn’t yet realized that I liked him, but I still went out of my way to visit him. Damn I was a dumbass.

6) does anyone in your school know how you feel?

ish? I told a classmate but in a “haha joking” kinda way. And a friend who went to that school knows. No one at my current school knows.

7) does your tc know how you feel?

I think he might? might have a lil inkling which would explain why he started acting so weird my last semester. Or at the very least was told/realized how bad it could look that he was getting so chummy w/ a student.

8) do you think there’s any chance your tc reciprocates your feelings?

He and his wife have been together for around 20 years now. No. No, I don’t think so. Maybe in an alternate universe.

9) are you getting your tc a christmas present? if so, what is it?

I have in the past! Specifically like, a tin of cookies lol. I’ve also given him an actual present when I left. I do intend to send him a Christmas card every year but not this year because ... you know ... the apocalypse.

10) have you ever flirted with your tc?

Flirtation inherently has intent. So, no. How he interpreted our interactions I don’t know.

11) how long have you had a crush on them? what began it all?

SO! TIMELINE!

I was at my old school from September 2014-April 2019, I had C for the first time in September 2015. Like I mentioned above, I did not realize I had a crush on him until literally the middle of my final exam of my class with him December 2018, so I’ve only consciously had a crush for about two years now. However, as I also mentioned, I went out of my way to stop by his office, even when I didn’t have a class with him. And my relationship with/feelings towards him are complicated so I’m not going to say I did so solely because I like him, but I would put it maybe closer to somewhere in 2017. You don’t plan your schedule around someone you don’t feel strong feelings for.

12) do you believe you’ll get over them shortly after you stop taking their class/have the chance to spend time with them?

As of today, it has been been exactly a year and a half since I last him in person. In the time since, I have cried over missing him, routinely gone back to keep up with his current research projects, and made his picture a part of my home screen. I almost exclusively listen to the playlist I made for him -  so much so my Spotify Wrapped is pretty much that playlist with a few extras.

13) what kind of grades do you get in their class?

Haaaaaa pre-supension I was failing his classes. My first semester back I got .... a mid/high 70? and I finished my last class with him with an A+ and the essay I had written for his class had the highest grade between the two classes so..

14) does your tc ever do any tiny, little things that you adore?

When he puts a hand in his pocket and leans against the wall. When he tucks his hair behind his ear because he keeps falling in his face (he has long hair, a little past his shoulders). When he can’t stop himself from googling something even if its in the middle of class. How you can ask him anything at any time. The way he would chuckle at my jokes. How his handwriting hasn’t improved in decades. How easily he brushes off toxic masculinity. His candidness and willingness to share little anecdotes. The way he used to always smile whenever he saw me. That he goes home everyday to have lunch with his wife.

15) are you their favorite student?

I was! And it was obvious to other students that we had a friendly, casual relationship too. For a time, if his other students had questions about him they would ask me, and I usually had the answer. I didn’t matter in the long run, but I was. 

16) do you two share any tastes? movies, books, music, etc.

He’s a legal historian, I’m a baby legal/political historian. We also like the same historical cooking youtube channel.

17) is your teacher religious?

I doubt he would say he’s religious, but I feel like we have a similar relationship to religion which is to say no formal association, but had profound effects on our childhoods and subsequently, presumably, how we view things as adults.

18) do you masturbate to them?

Yes.

19) do you communicate with them outside of school?

I sent him a meme once. And asked about the socialist uprising scandal he was apart of. I also almost emailed him while at a museum exhibition with my history friend. These are all through email.

20) do you have any tc songs or songs you relate to your tc? what are they?

SO my number one song this year was “You are the Reason” by Calum Scott because, you guessed it, of him. But also:

I Lost a Friend - Finneas When You’re Ready - Shawn Mendes You Are in Love - Taylor Swift Break My Heart Right - James

& given the season, especially w/ what transpired last year, Last Christmas by Wham!

21) what’s your favorite thing your tc has said/memory you have with them?

One time he kinda trailed off in the middle of lecture after stating that he thought of xyz a particular way which contrasted one of the popular schools of thought, and the way he plainly said, “well, yeah, which I guess ... is I’m arguing it” almost like he was semi-surprised with himself has always stuck with me. 

But also, in addition the memory I shared earlier, we spent an hour and a half talking about grad school and what to expect and how to get there. 

22) do you plan to continue a relationship with them after you leave school?

I trid, I really did. But he doesn’t “socialize with students part or present” so I can’t exactly see him. But I did get some academic-related from him at the beginning of the year.

23) how will you deal during the summer? will you see him/her?

He’s a hermit who used my last vacation before I moved to go on all the vacations he had to postpone because he was working on his last book. And this past summer ... Covid. This question is obviously directed at high school students, but in general, he lives in the back of head always, and when I’m in my hometown for the summer my heart aches because theres a none-zero chance I’ll see him, but I know I won’t.

24) does your tc support gay rights?

Yes. He’s never been put in a position that I know of where he had to outright condemn homophobia, but in one of his classes, he actively made the choice to make the very first reading of the semester about how women in ancient times had more agency than assumed, and also how the woman in the case study was a lesbian.

25) what class do you have with them? And what period? Do you have them every day?

History classes. I won’t get into specifics because it’s kind of an eclectic mix and I’m paranoid someone from the area could come across this. But I had him twice a week every semester that I had him. Again this kind of question is more so applicable to high school students, not so much university students.

26) have you ever drifted out during a lecture thinking about them and missed information?

No. In his classes he is too enthralling, and I’m a good student otherwise.

27) have you stalked them online? what did you find out?

In theory. He’s a fifty-year-old history professor whose reaction to a description of the big lipped/tiny face filter on snapchat was “that sounds disgusting.” The man doesn’t have social media, and if he does those privacy settings are on so students can’t find him he thinks he’s very professional. I do visit his mini-bio section on the college website fairly often tho.

28) have you ever run into them outside of schools? what happened?

I did once. He introduced me to his wife, who said “oh you’re E! C has talked about you” and it apparently he had done so positively, and blew my mind because this was back when I was failing classes and also, as a person, I don’t believe that people think about me when I’m not there. They gave me a restaurant recommendation and afterwards his wife surprised me a they were leaving the restaurant because ... we had listened to them, and they also went there for lunch that day.

29) has your tc ever spoken of teacher-student relationships? what did they say?

It had recently come out that it had been found out that another professor had been in a relationship with a student and he’s the one that brought it up before class one day (with all of us not just me). He didn’t say anything for or against it, just that it was generally discouraged, but that most schools did have policies in place to handle the situation.

30) do you regret telling anyone about your tc? if you’ve kept it a secret, why have you done so?

Absolutely not. I can’t tell my best friends because they’d do nothing but give me shit for it and it would call every time I mention him into question. But the friends that I have told ... its been so freeing, and like a weight has been lifted from my heart. One friend in particular I unloaded on her all my emotional shit pertaining to him this past summer and she was so understanding it legit since then I’ve been less distraught when thinking about him. It still hurts, but it feels less like I’m suffocating now.

[ourkarlanicoleuniverse]

Sweet Nothing (MHA Staff AU Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

Warnings: None sfw

It turned out, Aizawa left a stupid duffle bag behind the corner of the restaurant so he could change and get to patrolling right away. I kind of find it oddly endearing despite how strange it was. I was currently walking with my tablet in hand on the way to Class 1-A; after the events of Friday night, Aizawa kept his word and sent me a list of concerns or things he's noticed about the students. So I decided it was best to take upon his request and help with training just this once to see how they really work under pressure.

As soon as I walked in, I saw the purple-headed student was tied up and hung up from the ceiling in... tape? I almost dropped my tablet in shock. The rest of the class were either sitting down and speaking to each other or yelling at the kid for being a pervert. And then Iida was just telling everyone to quiet down. Maybe I should just make a quick getaway; they didn't seem to notice me walking in. Sometimes it's good that I have my mom's height and good genes that I still look like a fifteen-year-old kid to some people. But too late, I was seen by one of the students. Midoriya.

"Good morning, Ms. Montoya! Aizawa sensei isn't here yet if you needed to see him." Midoriya bowed slightly and then raised his hand to wave at me. The rest of the students quiet down as well.

"Good morning. Ms. Montoya." They all said in unison.

"Bwahvowoand mthh monthouyaaa." And then there was Mineta, who was still tied up and had his mouth taped up.

I moved a piece of hair out of my face and straightened up, "Good morning, Class 1-A. I am here because Aizawa asked me to join today's lesson. Plus, I wanted to let you know that I will be making appointments to see some of you individually." I held my tablet tight in both hands and pointed in the direction of Mineta, "Can someone explain to me why Mineta is on the ceiling?"

Kirishima raised his hand, "He was harassing the girls, so Sero used his quirk and taped him up as a time out." The redhead smiled brightly that it was absolutely adorable.

"Oh... well, I'm sure there could've been other ways to get him to stop, right?" I smiled, despite the sentence giving me a bitter taste in my mouth. If I were them, I would've probably done the same thing. "Anyways, I'm a little too short to get him down, so can one of you boys do it and set him down at his desk before your teacher comes in and you get into trouble." Kirishima and a blonde boy named Kaminari got up immediately and grabbed Mineta.

As I walked to the corner of the room where there was an empty seat Midoriya went to ask another question, "So, since you're joining us for the lesson today, does that mean we're going to see you use your quirk?" The boy had nothing but excitement in his emerald eyes; they almost reminded me of Mic's eyes.

"That's what Aizawa told me. I have yet to decide whether I'll use it or not with you guys." I sighed and gave a small smile.

"Then why are you here if you're not going to use it." Bakugo rudely interjected.

"Well, since you asked so nicely. I am here to get to know you and your quirks to counsel you better. And it's best to show you that there is more than just knowing how to use your quirk that goes into your hero work." I opened my tablet and connected it to the board to showcase a list of heroes and their quirks. "I guess I go into a small lecture of my own before Aizawa comes in."

The first hero I showed was All Might. "I feel like this should be the first person I should go into. All Might has a lot of great qualities, which is why he's the number one hero. But there are still things he lacks. I know this better than anyone since I worked under him during my work-study and internship. You want to guess what that might be?" I raised my eyebrow at the students. "Bakugo, I've seen you've gotten the highest amount of points on your entrance exam and that you've had the highest grades in middle school. Do you want to answer my question?"

The blond hot head just blinked, and his arrogant demeanor faltered. I knew he wasn't going to expect me to call him out. "Uh, I'm sorry, I don't have an answer."

I smiled, "That's okay. It's good to know you're aware when you don't know anything." The boy huffed and crossed his arms, and averted his red eyes away from mine. "His one of few flaws is that he mostly goes off of instincts rather than strategizing his attacks or missions. He doesn't do it often but definitely has done it enough to make a difference. When you have such great power, you tend to forget how to create plans that don't revolve around them. Which is a large factor when it comes to saving people."

"She's right." Aizawa interrupted my short lecture. He had his hands in the pockets of his hero clothes and an exhausted face. His grey eyes were tinted in red due to his exhaustion and dry eye. "Montoya is one of the people I trust most to explain the importance of your relationship with your quirk. Whatever it may be. She has more than enough experience with that." I almost smiled. I was being praised by Aizawa, which annoyed me because I was for sure blushing because of it.

I nodded slightly at the man, "Thank you, Aizawa. It is important to have a good relationship with your quirk. If you don't embrace it like I didn't for a very long time, it's hard to control it and feel comfortable with it. That's mainly why I am here. To see if you guys need help with that." Most of the students nodded and looked more than willing to have my help. I noticed Shoto Todoroki was a little discontented, and Midoriya gave a nervous smile while sinking in his seat. "I will be honest and tell you all that it was a struggle for me to like my quirk. So if any of you have any concerns about your own, I will be nothing but open and supportive. I promise you that."

"I have a question." A girl student named Jiro spoke up.

"Yes?"

"You don't have to tell us why if you're uncomfortable. But why didn't you like your quirk? Midoriya said you just mimic other quirks? What made you change your mind about it?" Her voice was a little quiet and cautious, afraid if she crossed a line. She did a little. I don't really like talking about my past all too much, especially to kids. It's not the most kid-friendly Disney-like story.

Aizawa looked towards his right to look at me, probably worried about what I was about to say. I just turned my lips up in my signature smile, "I won't go into my reasons for why I wasn't comfortable with my quirk. At least not right now. It's too long of a story." I let out an awkward chuckle and scratched the back of my head, "The logistics to my quirk and how I got over my fear of it, I can explain. Think of Mr. Aizawa's quirk. But with extra steps. I can stop a quirk, yes, but I have the option to stop it forever or temporarily. Most of the time, I do a temporary pause on a quirk. But unlike Eraserhead, I also have the option to use the quirk I gained and mimic it. Or use its energy like how All Might focuses his strength and energy into his punches. It really depends on the situation." I scratched the back of my head again, "And really, I didn't start liking my quirk until I went to UA and met Aizawa and Present Mic. Since Aizawa's quirk worked similar to mine, I didn't feel so... I guess alone." I cringed when I said that; how fucking cheesy can I be. I covered my face in embarrassment, "Oh, that sounds so cringy and sad, ew. Forget I said any of that." All I heard were whole-hearted chuckles from the kids, and I swear I saw a hint of a smirk and pink on Aizawa's cheek through the slits between my fingers.

"So, you knew each other since you were our age?" Mina squealed.

I simply nodded. "Yeah. My mom got a job here when I was fifteen, so we moved, and I ended up at UA. I literally read all the books I could find to teach myself Japanese. But as you could see, it didn't help much."

Aoyama then asked, "Where did you live before, Musutafu?"

"Oh well," I put a hand under my chin, pretending to think, "Well, okay. So I was born in Tokyo, lived there until my mom was done with her Biology degree. Then we moved when I was two to Los Angeles where my family is from. Then we lived in New York and San Francisco over the course of two or three years. And then a year or two before moving to Musutafu, we lived in Paris because my grandmother is half French, so my mom had citizenship through her." As soon as I mentioned Paris, Aoyama's eyes twinkled, and everyone groaned. "What did I do?"

"Aoyama is a bit of a francophile," Aizawa mumbled in my left ear. The closeness mixed with the soft gruffness in his whisper left shivers that I had to ignore go down my spine.

"Oh, tu aimes la culture français?" I asked Aoyama, and the boy nearly fainted.

"You know, French!" The whole class screamed. Having both Aizawa and I squint.

"I also know Spanish and a little bit of Italian and Portuguese." A sea of woes was my response. "Anyways, enough about me, we have to go on with the lesson plan Aizawa had. So all of you get dressed in your gym uniforms. Chop. Chop." I clapped my hands as the kids rushed out excited.

I couldn't help but laugh. They all kind of reminded me of how my class was in high school. "They like you," Aizawa stated as a matter of factly.

"Of course they do. I'm amazing." I smiled cheekily as I made my way to the doorway. "You, on the other hand, you're alright after a while."

He chuckled. Yes, Shota Aizawa chuckled, I know, I'm shocked too. Then he leaned down to my right ear. His hot breath fanning it as he whispered, "You say that now, but a few minutes ago, you gushed all about me to the students." To say I was left paralyzed by the sudden change in Aizawa's demeanor was an understatement. Where was this fucking playfulness when we were kids? My legs felt like jelly; I was so surprised to see that I was still standing.

I had to act like it didn't affect me. But I'm sure my rose-colored face and wide chocolate eyes gave it away, "I was also talking about Hizashi. Don't go ignoring him." I turned to meet his face, and he just had this smirk. This smirk that was different from any other curl of his lips that I have seen before. And I was hooked. I wanted to see that smirk every day. As soon as it appeared, it was gone. He went back to his "I didn't give a fuck" frown and dead eyes and hunched over with his hands in his pockets. Completely different from the tall cocky devil from a second ago. "Come on, at this rate, we'll be late, and the students will be the ones waiting for us." He waved his hand at me to motion behind him. I couldn't help but gawk. What the actual fuck just happened?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you okay, Young Montoya?" All Might walked up to my desk with his lunch in hand.

"Hmm? Yeah, I am fine." I was reading over an email with an attached file on Aizawa's analysis of Midoriya. I noticed he was a little nervous about training today, but he didn't get injured, so I didn't see what he was concerned about. But something about his quirk seemed off. He didn't have a quirk until a few months before coming to UA. Almost as if he obtained it from somewhere.

"How are the kids treating you? I heard you trained them today." Toshinori sat at his desk next to mine. He passed me a pork bun, "Here, don't want you to have another late lunch."

"Thanks, dad." I gave him a fake annoyed look.

"Shut up. We can't let people know how old I really am." He joked and then coughed. "Sorry."

"I want to suggest wearing a mask, but I feel like with the blood being coughed up would defeat the purpose of it." I reached over to give him a tissue and rub his back, "I didn't technically train; all I did was tell them more about myself and then give them advice on how to better deal with Aizawa's training. With his permission to critique his teaching, of course." I stopped rubbing Toshinori's back and took a bite out of the pork bun. "He gave me a list of reports he made on the students, but so far, I didn't see any of what he told me today. I might have to come in again."

"But overall, they didn't give you a hard time?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Well, when I walked in, it was pretty chaotic, but overall they enjoyed me teaching them and were very enthusiastic." I went back to my laptop, "There's this one kid I tried to put my focus on, but he seemed to be pretty okay compared to Aizawa's report. Izuku Midoriya. Do you remember him from the entrance exam? He was the one that helped the girl Uraraka when the debris prevented her from escaping the robots."

Toshinori stiffened a little, "I remember. What about him?"

"Well, he didn't have a quirk before this year. And apparently, when he uses it, he breaks his bones. I saw that happen in the exam, but I thought it was a one-time thing. It kind of reminded me of how we met, you know? Using my quirk and then passing out." Toshinori nodded. It was a funny story about how I met the All Might. It was when I was still a student at UA. My homeroom teacher decided to give us a break day, so Class 2-A and 2-B went to the beach. I was hanging around Aizawa, Mic, and our friend Shirakumo when everyone was running and cheering. I was overwhelmed because I didn't know what that meant. For all I knew, cheers and screams were the same things. But then we saw All Might and Shirakumo explained to me who he was and why people were excited to meet him. Iris was there with us and forced me to take a picture with her and All Might. He was more than happy to take a picture with us. And to be fair, I grew pretty excited like everyone else. Toshinori hoisted us up on his biceps like they do in cartoons. And before the picture was taken, I felt pulsing energy go through my body, and then I met darkness. It freaked everyone out, including the symbol of Peace himself. I had to explain to everyone how my quirk worked and why I passed out that day, but it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable when I did it.

"I remember how nonchalant you were about it. 'Or don't worry. It happens, are you okay, though?' I feel like that freaked me out more than you passing out." He chuckled and shook his head. "You were always so careless about yourself."

"Gee, I wonder why?" I rolled my eyes, "Anyways, the way Aizawa describes this kid, it's like if my homeroom teacher was describing me." I point to the screen, "Look, 'His quirk allows him to channel energy into certain appendages and grant him immense strength.' That's kind of our quirks work... wait a minute..." I slowly turned my head to the gentle blond giant to my right. "Toshinori. You didn't."

He looked at me with blue wide eyes, "Did what?"

"Toshinori Yagi. This kid didn't have a quirk before the exam. Not only that, you and I both know how One For All works." I glared at him as he seemingly shrunk down in size.

"I can explain." He rushed and waved his hands around.

"You better." I felt my energy coursing around me as I stood up; I'm sure my hair was flowing golden locks in between the brown ones, and my eyes changed to an ice-cold blue with how angry I was. Thank god the lounge was empty right now. I can't believe how reckless he was. This poor kid probably didn't know what he got himself into.

"Um, what's going on that Montoya is in her Super Saiyan mode now?" Kayama and Iris walked in for their lunch break.

I took a deep breath and turned my quirk off, "Nothing, just got told the bad news about Gran Torino. You know me, I get emotional about the old man." I sat down and looked at Toshinori, "We're not done talking about it. Just explained everything later before we leave school." He just gave me a curt nod.

"All Might really need to stop making you use your quirk when he's around. It's like he wants you to pass out." Iris giggled. "I'm only teasing, All Might." Toshinori just smiled at her and went back to eating. "You mind if we squeezed in here and hang out with you on your break, Mai?"

"Yeah, Lily is with Vlad King right now talking about Class 1-B, so you can take her desk and pull up an extra chair."

"You didn't need to do that with Aizawa?" Kayama pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Nope, I came into class already, and he sent me everything I needed to know about the students." I go to grab my water bottle on my desk to see Toshinori snuck another pork bun on my desk while he checked his own emails and reports. Skeletor is really trying to butter me up right now with food... he really does know me too well.

"Wow, you guys aren't getting along and working ahead of Vlad and Lily. Don't make it a competition." Kayama laughed.

"Oh no, Lily and I already knew we got dragged in their rivalry. I'm already dreading it. I wish I could be like Toshi and be neutral." I nudged him, but he didn't budge. "But I like the kids, so I'm sure I can deal with the two of them being childish for their sake."

A slight tap graced my shoulder, "Aizawa asked me, and Thirteen is we wanted to join him in training the students at the USJ tomorrow. Did he mention anything to you?" I turned over to Toshinori, who looked a little nervous.

"No, I have to be in a meeting with Nezu, Toyama, and the other UA counselors to discuss the new mental health section of the school. But don't be so worried, you'll be fine with Thirteen there." I gave him a smile and pat on the head. The poor guy is intimidated by Aizawa, which honestly is so adorable. "I'm sure as long as you're not late to class, he won't reprimand you. Plus, the kids themselves aren't bad."

"You didn't have to give them the villain simulation assignment. Young Bakugo almost killed Midoriya." He let out a nervous chuckle.

"True, I wasn't there, but I did have to see them after class because of the outburst." I patted his head. "Nothing is going to happen tomorrow." I took a bite out of my second pork bun. "Now, stop worrying. You're acting how you do when Gran Torino calls you."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I shouldn't be worried." He gave a solemn smile. Iris and Kayama were both just snickering at the symbol of peace being a nervous wreck. Not a lot of people would have expected that he had that side to him.

For the rest of the day, I reviewed the points I wanted to make in the meeting for tomorrow while socializing with my colleagues. It was a relatively normal day. None of us would've expected that tomorrow would've made a complete one-eighty. If only I were actually right about tomorrow.

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My master list 😊

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