#Student-Led Assemblies

[townpostin]

Shiksha Niketan Students Honor Medical Professionals On Doctors' Day

Class XI Leads Special Assembly Highlighting Dr. B.C. Roy’s Legacy The celebration emphasized the crucial role of doctors in society, likening their importance to that of deities. JAMSHEDPUR – Shiksha Niketan School in Telco marked Doctors’ Day with a special morning assembly organized by Class XI students on Monday, paying tribute to medical professionals and their contributions. The program…

[a-lexia11]

Career Day

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warning:none

Words:Around 2.5k

Note: Thank you so much to @chai-berries for the idea🫶🫶This is for you. Also,this is part of the “meeting in Barcelona” universe.

The classroom was buzzing with excitement as today was Career Day. For weeks, my fourth graders had been counting down the days until the special guests would arrive.

They were thrilled to meet professionals from different fields, but there was one guest they were particularly eager to see—Alexia.

The thought of Alexia sharing her experiences with the kids made my heart swell with pride and anticipation.

After all, it wasn’t every day that a football superstar visited our school, and I wanted everything to be perfect.

I was sitting on my chair as Alba, walked into the room. Her usual mischievous grin was firmly in place, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“¿Estás listo para hoy?” (Are you ready for today?) she teased, raising an eyebrow as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Creo que si” (I think so) I replied, brushing a stray lock of hair out of my face. “He estado esperando esto con ansias, pero todavía estoy un poco nervioso. Quiero que todo salga bien” (I’ve been looking forward to it, but I’m still a bit nervous. I want everything to go smoothly.)

Alba chuckled, setting down a stack of papers on her desk. “No te preocupes, Y/N. Va a ser genial. Los niños se van a volver locos cuando vean a Alexia. ¡Han estado hablando de eso toda la semana!” (Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s going to be great. The kids are going to lose their minds when they see Alexia. They’ve been buzzing about it all week!)

“Lo sé” (I know) I said with a nod. “Solo espero que Alexia también lo disfrute. Sé que tiene mucho trabajo con el fútbol” (I just hope Alexia enjoys it too. I know she’s got a lot on her plate with football)

Alba waved a hand dismissively. “Le encantará. Confía en mí, inspirar a los niños es una de sus cosas favoritas. Y seamos realistas: tenerla aquí hará que hoy sea inolvidable para ellos” (She’ll love it. Trust me, inspiring kids is one of her favorite things. And let’s be real—having her here is going to make today unforgettable for them)

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the start of the school day.

The kids began to trickle into the classroom, their energy palpable. They were practically bouncing with excitement, chattering about the different professionals they were going to meet.

As they settled into their seats, I could see the anticipation shining in their eyes—especially in the girls who played football and idolized Alexia.

When it was finally time for the presentations, I led the kids to the assembly hall, where a variety of professionals were waiting.

There was a policeman in his crisp uniform, a firefighter in full gear, a veterinarian who had brought along a couple of adorable puppies, and a marine biologist with a table full of fascinating seashells.

The students eagerly gathered around each presenter, soaking in the knowledge and asking endless questions.

But despite the excitement surrounding the other professionals, I knew who they were all really waiting for.

And when the time came for Alexia to make her entrance, the anticipation in the room was electric. Standing by the door, I felt my heart race with both pride and nerves.

Then I saw her—walking down the hallway with that effortless grace she had, turning heads without even trying.

She was dressed casually yet stylishly, in her Barcelona jersey and jeans, and her presence alone was enough to command attention.

As she reached me, I greeted her with a warm hug, the familiar scent of her perfume instantly calming my nerves.

“Hey, you,” I whispered, smiling up at her. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

Alexia’s eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm as she returned my hug. “No me lo perdería por nada del mundo. He estado esperando esto con ansias; he escuchado tanto sobre estos niños de ti y de Alba” (I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ve been looking forward to this—I’ve heard so much about these kids from you and Alba)

As we walked together to the front of the room, the kids’ excitement reached a fever pitch.

The chatter turned into a chorus of squeals and whispers, and I could see the girls who played football practically bouncing with joy.

“Escuchen, todos” (Listen, everyone) I began, addressing the class with a smile, “esta es Alexia Putellas, la capitana del FC Barcelona y de la selección española. Démosle una calurosa bienvenida” (this is Alexia Putellas, the captain of FC Barcelona and the Spanish national team. Let’s give her a warm welcome!)

The applause and cheers that followed were deafening, and I saw Alexia’s cheeks flush with a mix of pleasure and shyness as she waved to the kids.

Her smile radiated warmth, and I could tell she was genuinely happy to be there.

“Gracias por una bienvenida tan calurosa.”(Thank you for such a warm welcome) Alexia said, her voice effortlessly carrying over the noise. “Estoy muy emocionada de estar aquí y hablarles sobre lo que es ser futbolista profesional” (I’m really excited to be here and talk to you about what it’s like to be a professional footballer.)

As Alexia began her presentation, I watched the kids’ faces light up with fascination.

She spoke about her journey from being a young girl who loved kicking a ball around to becoming one of the top footballers in the world.

Her stories were filled with passion, perseverance, and moments of triumph and challenge. The kids were completely captivated.

After Alexia’s talk, it was time for questions, and a sea of eager hands shot up. I couldn’t help but grin at their enthusiasm.

Sofia, one of the most energetic girls in the class, was the first to ask, “¿Cuál es la parte más difícil de ser futbolista?” (What’s the hardest part about being a footballer?)

Alexia paused thoughtfully before answering. “Diría que la parte más difícil es lidiar con las lesiones y los contratiempos. Es difícil cuando no puedes jugar, y puede ser frustrante. Pero con trabajo duro, determinación y el apoyo de tu equipo, puedes superar esos desafíos”(I’d say the hardest part is dealing with injuries and setbacks. It’s tough when you can’t play, and it can be frustrating. But with hard work, determination, and the support of your team, you can overcome those challenges.)

Pablo, a thoughtful and curious boy, asked, “¿Cuál es la mejor parte de ganar un gran partido?”(What’s the best part about winning a big game?)

Alexia’s eyes sparkled as she replied, “La mejor parte es celebrar con mis compañeros de equipo. No hay nada como esa sensación de logro y alegría que compartimos todos juntos. Hace que todo el trabajo duro valga la pena” (The best part is celebrating with my teammates. There’s nothing like that feeling of accomplishment and joy that we all share together. It makes all the hard work worth it.)

Then Lena, one of the cheekier students, piped up with a grin. “La próxima vez que marques un gol, ¿puedes hacer una voltereta?” (Next time you score a goal, can you do a backflip?)

I couldn’t help but laugh, imagining Alexia attempting a backflip. She chuckled too, shaking her head. “¿Una voltereta? No creo que pueda hacer eso, ahora soy demasiado vieja, como un dinosaurio” (A backflip? I don’t think I can do that, I’m too old now,like a dinosaur)

The kids burst into laughter, and it was clear that Alexia was thoroughly enjoying herself.

As the questions continued, some of the girls couldn’t contain their excitement any longer and rushed forward to give Alexia a hug.

She knelt down to their level, hugging them back with genuine affection, and the sight melted my heart. It was clear that she was more than just a football star to them—she was a role model, someone they looked up to and admired deeply.

One of the boys, clearly awestruck by Alexia’s presence, suddenly blurted out, “Espera, ¿eres pariente de la señorita Alba? ¡Te pareces a ella y tienen el mismo apellido” (Wait—are you related to Miss Alba? You look like sisters and you have the same family name!)

Alexia and I both smile gently, and Alba, who was standing nearby, couldn’t resist chiming in. “Tienes buen ojo, niño. ¡Somos hermanas! Pero creo que yo soy más bonita” (You’ve got good eyes, kid. We are sisters! But I think I’m prettier)

The students giggled at Alba’s playful comment, and Alexia rolled her eyes affectionately. “Sí, sí, sigue diciéndote eso, Alba” (Yeah, yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Alba)

When it was time for Alexia to show off her medals, the excitement in the room reached new heights.

She carefully pulled out her Champions League medal and her World Cup medal, holding them up for the students to see.

“Esto” (This) Alexia said, pointing to the Champions League medal, “Es de cuando ganamos la Champions League. Fue una experiencia inolvidableis (from when we won the Champions League. It was an unforgettable experience)

The kids’ eyes widened with awe as they examined the medals up close.

There were gasps of amazement and excited whispers as they passed the medals around, handling them as if they were the most precious treasures in the world.

“Esto” (This) Alexia continued, holding up the World Cup medal, “es de cuando ganamos the World Cup. Requirió mucho trabajo duro y dedicación llegar hasta aquí, pero valió la pena cada momento.(is from winning the World Cup. It took a lot of hard work and dedication to get here, but it was worth every moment)

One of the girls, Beatriz, looked up at Alexia with wide eyes and asked, “¿Crees que algún día podríamos ganar uno de estos?”(Do you think we could win one of these someday?)

Alexia smiled down at her, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. “Absolutamente. Si trabajas duro, te mantienes dedicado y crees en ti mismo, puedes lograr cualquier cosa que te propongas. No siempre será fácil, pero te lo prometo: valdrá la pena.”(Absolutely. If you work hard, stay dedicated, and believe in yourself, you can achieve anything you set your mind to. It won’t always be easy, but I promise you—it will be worth it.)

The girls who played football seemed especially inspired by her words. Some of them even asked for tips on improving their game, and Alexia was more than happy to give them advice.

“Enfócate en tu técnica, practica regularmente y, lo más importante, disfruta del juego y juega con el corazón.” (Focus on your technique, practice regularly, and most importantly—enjoy the game and most importantly play with your heart) she said, her words leaving a lasting impression on the kids.

After Alexia’s presentation, the kids eagerly lined up for autographs, pictures and hugs.

The girls were especially thrilled, their faces glowing with admiration as Alexia signed their papers, shirts, and even a couple of footballs they had brought along.

As the last few students trickled out of the hall, I caught Alexia’s eye and smiled. She made her way over to me, and I could see the satisfaction and happiness in her expression.

“That was incredible” she said softly, slipping her hand into mine as we stood in the now-empty hall. “Eran tan amables, y su entusiasmo... me recordó por qué empecé a jugar al fútbol en primer lugar.” (They were so sweet, and their enthusiasm… it reminded me of why I started playing football in the first place.)

“You were amazing,” I replied, squeezing her hand gently. “You really connected with them. I think they’ll be talking about this day for a long time. And those hugs? So cute.”

Alexia chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, those hugs were pretty great. I don’t usually get swarmed by tiny fans like that.” She paused, her voice turning more tender. “Pero me alegra haber compartido esto contigo. Verte con tus alumnos, lo mucho que te adoran... me hizo quererte aún más” (But I’m glad I got to share this with you.Seeing you with your students, how much they adore you… it made me love you even more.)

My heart fluttered at her words, and I leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“I’m so happy you were here. It means the world to me—and to them.”

Just then, Alba appeared, her ever-present grin in place. “Bueno, bueno, bueno, miren a ustedes dos siendo tan adorables. Espero que no te hayas robado todo mi protagonismo, Alexia. ¿Todavía soy la profesora favorita aquí, verdad?” (Well, well, well, look at you two being all adorable. I hope you didn’t steal all my thunder, Alexia. I’m still the favorite teacher here, right?)

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Lo deseas, Alba. Pero tengo que decir que haces un gran trabajo entreteniendo a los niños, realmente les gustas” (You wish, Alba. But I have to say, you do a great job at entertaining the kids,they really like you)

Alba shrugged modestly. “¿Qué puedo decir? Soy una natural. Pero, sinceramente, ver lo emocionados que estaban por conocer a Alexia... valió la pena. Incluso si eso significa que ya no soy la Putellas más genial por aquí” (What can I say? I’m a natural. But honestly, seeing how excited they were to meet Alexia… it was worth it. Even if it means I’m not the coolest Putellas around here anymore.)

Alexia smirked, nudging her sister with her elbow. “No te preocupes, Alba. Siempre serás la profesora más genial de esta escuela, después de Y/N, por supuesto. Bueno, al menos hasta que decida retirarme del fútbol y dedicarme a la enseñanza” (Don’t worry, Alba. You’ll always be the coolest teacher in this school after Y/N obviously. Well,at least until I decide to retire from football and take up teaching.)

The idea of Alexia as a teacher made me laugh, and Alba joined in. “Pagará buen dinero por ver eso” (I’d pay good money to see that) Alba teased. “Imagina verte intentando enseñar a un aula llena de alumnos de 10 años” (Imagine you trying to teach a classroom full of ten years-old)

“Creo que me las arreglaría” (I think I’d manage) Alexia replied, a playful glint in her eye. “He enfrentado oponentes más difíciles, después de todo” (I’ve faced tougher opponents, after all)

We all shared a laugh, and the camaraderie between us felt effortless and warm, like we were a little family.

It was moments like these that made me grateful for the relationships we’d built—both with each other and with the kids.

As the day wound down and the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Alexia and I walked hand in hand toward the parking lot.

The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of autumn leaves.

“I really enjoyed today” Alexia said, her voice filled with warmth. “It was so nice to see the kids so excited and engaged. And being here with you and Alba… it made it even more special.”

I smiled, feeling a rush of affection for her. “I’m so glad you could be here. It means a lot to me, and I know it meant the world to those kids. They’ll remember this day forever.”

We reached her car, and Alexia pulled me into a gentle hug, her arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace.

I leaned into her, savoring the warmth of her embrace.

We lingered in each other’s arms for a few more moments. Eventually, Alexia pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on my waist.

“I have to head to training soon” she said, her voice tinged with regret. “But I’ll be thinking about you the whole time.”

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “And I’ll be thinking about you. Go be amazing, as always”

She grinned, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before reluctantly stepping back. “¿Te veré esta noche?” (I’ll see you tonight?)

“Of course” I replied, my heart already longing for her return.

As I watched her drive away, my heart felt full—full of love, gratitude, and contentment. The day had been everything I had hoped for and more.

FIN

[utilitycaster]

imagine. you are an deeply ambitious young woman in the rural Empire. you get a lucky break to go to the Soltryce Academy where you are hand-picked by one of the professors who proceeds to both favor and torture you and two others, with whom you become romantically entwined; he always does seem to favor one of the others over you. On the night of your final exam, when you poison your parents, that other student has a mental break, badly injuring you and you get him to the Vergesson Sanatorium. You continue on as a wizard assassin for years until one day, in your late 20s, he escapes. You hear nothing of him until he resurfaces when you receive a letter. He comes to see you. You talk. Not long after he and his friends are invited to dinner by your mentor and your mentor proceeds to offer the seat you thought was yours directly to him in front of you. He and his friends openly insult the mentor who has held you for years. You and your ex joke about racing each other to the top. You are then called upon to spy on them as they traverse Eiselcross for another Assembly wizard; they return to Rexxentrum and ask you to help them break into the asylum where your ex was once kept. You have a brief mental breakdown in an alleyway but you give them what they need. It does not go well and you are asked to chase them down but when you have them you find yourself letting them go. A few days pass and you track them down once more to a small temple. Your mentor is defeated and you are asked, after all this time, not to kill him. You leave in rage with your partner only to return when you realize you can have some small closure in testifying against him. You do so. Your mentor's seat is offered to your ex. He turns it down. It goes to you.

Seven years later the Assembly breaks from the empire during an era of mass unrest. You go and hide in a smut shop in Zadash. A group of fucking weirdos come in. One of them uses your ex's childhood name. They use every way they can trap you possible. When they finally succeed you realize they're being led by your ex's current boyfriend. You are pinned against the wall in a smut shop in Zadash. Every day Astrid Becke wakes up.

[makuzume]

Genshin Men Reacting to Calling Yourself "Stupid" (insecure reader)

🔅characters: Cyno, Kaveh, Tighnari, Al Haitam

🔅content: gn! reader; comfort; Implied Relationship; Insecure reader uses humor as a coping mechanism for feeling 'stupid'; around 850 words per character

🔅a/n: From anon's request :))

[Genshin Impact Masterlist]

🔅Cyno🔅

Without a doubt cyno was one of the most acknowleged students of his batch. It was only natural for him to given that he now stood as the current General of the Mahamatra. But despite Cyno's high rank, his incredible fighting skills, and his intelligence, he was never one to rub it in on others' faces, and you admired him for it, but still, you sometimes couldn't help but feel just a little bit left behind.

There were times where you made jokes claiming how dense and stupid you were, to which Cyno would instantly turn his head towards you with a frown. "You are not stupid, y/n. It was just a mix-up, it's understandable" he would softly reply each time and you always brush it off with an akward chuckle right before he got a little too serious about it. But at some point, it started to not just become a mere comedic expression anymore to you.

Cyno would sometimes let you tag along to some of his meetings where they discuss the current cases they were investigating. You were always impressed by how quickly he manages to pick up certain details and predict the criminals' behavior even with little the evidence they possesed at the time.

He was also well learned in various areas beyond the scope a Mahamatra officer which enables him to connect the dots of each clue quickly. It looked like Cyno almost can always instantly come up with such complex strategies before you even finish blinking.

As you observed the meeting from the far end of the room, you couldn't help but sometimes try to play detective along with them, coming up with solutions and strategies of your own. But as you were listening to their discussion, they were already throwing out tactics on the table before you could even understand what was even the situation at hand to begin with. A lot of times it were ideas that you probably never would've been able to come up with yourself even if you had a hundred times the amount of time they had.

Doing this made you realize the gap between your intelligence, which made you shrink yourself at your seat as you quietly remained in the corner. You felt so dumb if you stood next to him, a joke. You felt like an embarassment.

After wrapping up the assembly, the two of you went out to have a meal at this new restaurant in the city. It had a foreign menu, and you kept inquiring the waiter about the meals because you didn't understand the unfamiliar terms being used to describe the dish. In the end, you just ordered whatever name sounded good- only to find out it was a dish you were allergic to. You ended up swapping meals with Cyno before you apologized, embarassed "Sorry... I hadn't realize what sort of food I ordered. That's what I get for being a little brainless huh?" He suddenly fell silent, his expression immediately saddened- his brows furrowed and his lips turned into a subtle frown as he looked at you with a softened gaze, but you were quick to change the topic into something lighter.

On the way home, you were casually talking about a book you recently read when Cyno suddenly but gently took your hand. He led the both of you to the side of the road where there were fewer people, away from the crowds.

He looked at you with a concerned expression "y/n... I couldn't help but notice how upset you looked since this afternoon... did something happen?" He spoke softly, giving you a moment to respond. 'So he noticed... I guess I really can't hide anything from him.' You thought to yourself and only shrugged it off with an akward chuckle, not wanting to worry him with such silly concerns.

"I wanted to ask you something... have you really just been joking whenever you would call yourself 'stupid' or anything similar..?"

Ah... he hit the nail exactly. In truth, you weren't surprised, you knew he was really smart to begin with.

Looking back at Cyno, you see him giving his full attention on you. There was no use trying to hide it now, you figured Cyno already knew the answer even before he asked that. Still, you didn't respond and looked down, your cheerful facade slowly begining to ceumble.

"y/n... You know that's not true." Carefully, he took both of your hands and placed them in his. "I'm always here to ease your troubles, no matter how little they may seem to you"

A part of him felt hurt that you saw yourself like that, Cyno felt somewhat responsible for not being able to make you feel reassured enough the previous times you 'joked' about those things before.

"...I'm... just an emotional mess, Cyno... I don't even make any sense most of the time." You said quietly with a chuckle as you looked down, a hint of sadness coating your voice. Cyno immediately responded "It doesn't have to make sense. I've never once found you foolish or idiotic in any way."

He released your hand. The next thing you knew, you felt his warm and gentle arms firmly wrap around you, embracing you over your arms and lovingly pulling you close to him as he caressed your back in small strokes.

"I'm not exactly sure what made you believe in such absurd ideas... and I don't know for certain yet what I could do to make you feel better.... but i want you to know i love you for exactly the way you are now, and that you are far from something as 'unintelligent'." Softly, he spoke to your ear as he continued to pet your back comfortingly. "We'll get through this together... I'll make sure you understand how untruthful these words are... it hurts me to see you feel this way towards yourself."

Tears began to form as you lightly sniffled, finally allowing yourself to lower your walls. Cyno pulled back slightly, his thumb gently brushing over your cheeks to wipe the small streams that were rolling down your face. Slowly, he planted a soft kiss on your forehead and looked at you with a gentle look "I always think of you with the highest regard, I hope you always remember that."

🔅Kaveh🔅

Honestly, Kaveh would assume it's HIM who's the 'stupider' one in your relationship

Kaveh often makes a lot of big, hasty decisions that are usually based off of his emotions, disregarding his rationality (which is a problem Alhaitham often told you when you first started dating him)

There's no denying the fact at how it's also so easy for him to become influenced or even manipulated by others, making a lot of wrong turns and questionable decisions.

"I don't know anything about the desert either, Kaveh. What do you expect from an idiot like me?" You would joke.

"Oh please, if one of us had to be the idiot, it would be me, without a doubt!" He would say with shamefully aware tone, raising both his hands as if it were the obvious.

You didn't believe him, of course. He was a brilliant architect, designing so many beautiful, and well loved structures such as the Palace of Alcazarzaray. Kaveh was even a big part of the renovations in Port Ormos, imrpoving the accessibility and practicality of certain areas- all the while making sure the aesthetics and durability were never compromised. How could a genunius such as himself ever become 'stupid', you wonder.

Over the course of a few more weeks, you kept making the same hurtful statements addressed to yourself to which Kaveh thought was just a mere joke (and Kaveh might have even been calling himself idiotic just as frequently as you did- possibly even more than you)

It was just another instance when you insulted yourself again did it suddenly click to him. "Ah, my bad. I didn't think about that. Thinking's a lot more dificult for someone as brainless as me"

Perhaps it was the way your tone sounded as you finished your sentence. The hitch of your voice and your low gaze suddenly made him come to the realization that it wasn't just a joke to you anymore.

It felt like a big slap to the face as he internally cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. 'How stupid could I be for not realizing that you felt this way???' He would think.

As he was looking back at all the times you had ever called youself something so foolosh, Kaveh slowly sat next to where you were sitting as his eyes had a worried but gentle look. He lightly stroke your back, trying to think of the right words to better reassure you, afraid to accidentally do any more harm.

He wanted to comfort you, to tell you that you're so much more than some 'idiot.'

"You are NOT stupid, let's get that clear..." Gently, he would say.

Kaveh thinks that you (and actually a lot of other people) were much better at rationalizing certain things he always failed to picture, always leading him into some heavy misfortune each time.

"Come on now.... If you think you're idiot, then I must be the king of the idiots, the BIGGEST idiot of them all!" He spoke comedically with a small smile on his face, his worried expression mildly seeping through his facade. His words felt genuine, that you weren't worth any less than you thought you did.

"...why don't we go out for a stroll? Go somewhere with a nice view and fresh air for a change of pace? Oh, we can get some treats on the way as well- maybe even have a picnic." You look at him, your expression softening. "Perfect for two so-called 'idiots' like us."

You couldn't help but smile back at him, lightly chuckling at his attempt to lighten your mood "I love you, you know that?"

🔅Tighnari🔅

Tighnari is incredibly smart, without a doubt. Ever since his days as an Amurta scholar, he had already been showing signs of great potential when it came to his intelligence, which is expected since he was heavily mentored under Professor Naphis, the current sage for Amurta.

His intelligence in understanding biology, the forest, and medicine always amazed you. Other than that, he's also very self assured, not letting any outside influences bring him any insecurities and doubt to his own capabilities, and you love that about him, but you sometimes wish that you could feel just as smart and reassured as him.

There were times you felt a bit embarassed to be his partner- you just felt like you were too 'dumb' for his own good, that he deserves someone just as equally promising and you were just... well... you. It was ridiculous, you know, but it was something you couldn't help but feel.

You were already making jokes that referred to your lack of capabilities but recently, your insecurities pushed it even further, making you joke about it whenever the moment allowed it, never missing an opportunity to attack yourself. "Hah, well I'm not the brightest person out there, so don't get you hopes up, Nari."

"I've studied mushrooms for years, y/n, no one could have also been able to remember all of them in just one night" Tighnari would only casually comment back towards you to reassure you, rummaging through his bag to get his notebook filled with notes and sketches dedicated to mushrooms. "Here, see? The one you found is slightly toxic, but it looks very similar to the one we were looking for, so you did a good job at somehow remembering how it looks."

You sat down on the grass, sighing heavily as you chuckled to yourself with a defeated voice "I'm too stupid for this task, it might have been better to take Collei, I'm sure she'd do a much better job than me. I'm just some idiot"

Tighnari puts down his bag to the side and sits next to you, using this time for the both of you to take a break from walking around the forest all morning "Collei had weeks to study the different classifications of mushrooms- you had one night. It's only natural that she would remember more than you." He said gently, a sigh leaving his lips.

The both of you remained silent for a while as you watched the forest peacefully, the gentle sounds of nature creating a relaxing moment for the two of you, somewhat calming down your built up frustrations woth yourself.

After some time, Tighnari spoke up with a soft tone "...Can we talk?" You look at him, curious where the conversation may lead you.

"I've noticed you've been acting strangely these past few days, and I've picked up some behavioral patterns you've been doing recently."

Tighnari slightly faced your direction as he saw your mildly confused expression, his voice slightly turning a bit more serious. "I've noticed you've been calling yourself such negative terms as of late... is that how you've been feeling about yourself recently?"

You fell silent, looking only at the dirt in front of your feet.

"y/n, won't you tell me what's really been going on..?"

Tighnari knew that you weren't as 'incapable' as you believed to be, but it still made him feel upset that you saw yourself that way. You're already an amazing person and an incredible partner, he didn't see how you could ever imagine yourself to be anything less than that.

Though he did understand that it was perhaps some floating insecurities you had at the back of your head, you probably weren't even fully conscious about it until now. Your 'jokes' must have been a means for some coping mechanism in defense of those insecurities, it's just a shame you didn't view them to be merely as a joke anymore.

No matter how much you hated being so called 'useless' and 'idiotic' it was still a feeling you couldn't get rid of, that it was too tied with you, a feeling you deserved.

"I never viewed you as someone incapable. You're actually much more than you make yourself believe to be." Calmly, but confidently, he spoke, which made you look at him with a slightly confused expression, uncertain how Tighnari could look so sure. Still, you sought answers, and asked him "...How?"

His expression softened slightly as his brows furrowed, just a bit. The muscles on his face slightly tugging at his lips to form a gentle smile. "You have a deep understanding of emotions, especially towards others. You are able to understand the depth of someone's feeling just by listening to them, and I think that's something to worth being proud of."

He was smart, waaay smarter than you, you believe. You're not sure if something as having emphaty would make the cut, especially since you don't think you're as adept at controlling your feelings either.

"You can feel way more complex emotions then I ever could, regardless if you can manage them or not." Tighnari scootches closer to you "I know what you're thinking. Yes, I may have graduated from the Akademiya, but that absolutely has nothing to do with your own capabilities" shaking his head gently, he spoke.

"We have a lot of our other friends who have their own things they are good at, yes? Nilou, Dehya, Candace... they're not from the Akademiya, but you wouldn't call them less than capable, won't you?" Looking down, you nodded in agreement.

"And I'm sure they would think the same for you as well, y/n. What you're feeling right now is just a bit of doubt, and that's what's been holding you back, but just know that it isn't true. You're just as capable as the rest of us. I can vouche for that." Tighnari softly said with a small smile, his hand carefully reaching for your hand and caressing it gently.

"And I'll always be here beside you yo make sure you understand that."

🔅Alhaitam🔅

At first Alhaitam didn't say anything, thinking it was mostly out of frustration whenever you would say things like "Argh! I'm such an idiot" each time you made a minor mistake or had trouble understanding a particularly difficult text you were reading, so he didn't find it as anything alarming to be too serious.

But as time passed on, he started to pick up that you were actually starting to believe what you were actually saying, making yourself think that you truly were 'stupid.' When he brought it up, you were dismissive and shrugged it off with a smile which he knew was fake, so he figured a different approach should be done.

One day, Alhaitam was piled with some work in the Akademiya and asked for your help in making some agricultural research paper that was needed to be done.

"Although I'd love to help... I don't think I'd be smart enough to do a good enough job for something so complicated as a research paper... You know me, I can't come up with anything actually useful with this small brain of mine" You tell him comically, secretly afraid of the idea of both you and Alhaitam looking at your work and feeling disappointed at the finished output.

"You haven't even started yet, give it a try first before you underestimate yourself. I'll give you a hand when you need me with anything. If you think it's too overwlemhing, then you can just leave it."

He knew you would take it, to be honest. He rarely asked you for any help (of course besides the smaller favors such as picking up some ingredients for tonights dinner on your way home). It was always Alhaitham who always seemed to have been doing you most major favors, he suspected you'd accept his request at times he needed it (and he was right).

Though it was a big responsibility- One you were afraid to disappoint him with. But a small part of you felt glad that he put such trust in you to believe that you could even complete an entire paper all on your own, as if he trusted that you were capable enough to accomplish it. So with that, you accepted it.

Day and night, you worked extra hard, spending most of your time reading through dozens and dozens of books and other related research papers to gain more background and knowledge on the topic.

Perhaps your fear to let Alhaitam down made you over exert yourself, trying to perfect the paper's content, esepcially on making the research's suggested solutions were actually useful and applicable. Hopefully, this impresses impress him, you thought (even just a little bit)

You didn't even approach him the entire 7 weeks you were working on it, not wanting to bother him.... and maybe believing that your querries were for 'simple-minded' individuals that shouldn't have even been a question in the first place. Alhaitam also didn't ask much about your progress either, letting you go at your own pace without pressure until you finished in case it would overwhelm you too much. Though even if he would've went to check on you, make sure you eating well, and even encourage you a little, it was hard for him to find your exact whereabouts most of the time. But when he does find you in your home, he sees a 'do not disturb' sign hanging on the door, so, he instead leaves some snacks and cooling patches by the entrance of your house instead.

Surprisingly, after revising and re-reading it the final draft of the paper countless of times, you actually felt quite proud once you were finished. A warm feeling and sense of achievement brought a smile to your face as you handed him the paper, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As he skims through each page thoroughly, you felt your whole body was tense as you held your breath. He reaches the final page and says "Good job. It has a lot of great points that the Akademiya could actually use." Which brought an overwhelming amount of relief to you. He did give a few honest comments such as some minor revisions here and there, but nothing too critical.

Alhaitam couldn't help but smile (just a tiny bit) as he saw you relax and finally breathe out in relief, smiling to yourself. He was hoping this experience would make you believe more in yourself and your capabilities: To find a way to make you feel like you actually are smarter than you give credit for. You just needed the opportunity to prove it with yourself.

"Great work. I'm proud of you." Alhaitham said with a soft smile.

[Back to Genshin Masterlist] [Overall Masterlist]

a/n: aaaaaa can't believe I was in a never ending editing cycle with this one after weeks :') Might need some revisions but still- I'm so relieved this is out T0T also glad I was still able to write even though I am sickly in pain by 1000% hoping anon sees this huhu

Credits to @makuzume on Tumblr || Do not steal, translate, modify, reupload my works on any platform.

[reilliane]

Septem (iii) ⊱⊰ Genshin!Various

✤ she/her - ✤ words: 3.8k

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ]

✤ An Academy built to hone and prepare gods-to-be and blessed mortals for the world beyond — isn't it a dream come true, when a blank Vision greets you in invitation? ✤ News of your enrollment in Septem Academy reaches students who were dispatched for on-field training and expeditions. They are more than eager to return.

✤ neuvilette, wriothesley, freminet, lyney, gaming

a/n: for this part, mc is a part of hearth 'null'

It wasn't unheard of that there were students on official leave from the Academy, a handful of them coming from on-field training and expeditions [according to news/gossip central Kaveh and Childe].

It was the women that returned first, their new faces expressing surprise at the arrival of another 'Null' in their academy. They were all well acquainted compared to most, which relieved you. The rivalry in the Academy was no joke, so having more 'I-don't-have-time-for-competitions' ladies was a breath of fresh air.

You also wondered just how many students there were at Septem, it appeared like there were more than fifty or so—but then again, there really only was Septem that catered to people with elemental affinities.

You're still learning the ropes of being attuned to all seven elements by the time your first official semester met its curtain fall, right when the later group of men arrived. They were friendly, the whole lot of them, and compared to most of the men you've come to know who thrive in Hearth rivalries and competitions, everything was just a passing source of amusement to them.

It was rather disconcerting—but hey, so long as they were friendly, right?

— Neuvilette

Lo and behold, Hydro's Hearthleader in the very flesh.

A long, long time ago, according to accounts of the Hearthleaders, Hydro's authority had complications that led to the title being passed on to one after the other. Rumors even mentioned fraudulence and 'false' titles, who knew it had such a controversy?

Nevertheless, the past was the past, and all had been settled now. Kokomi mentioned that the issue was resolved a term before you arrived at the Academy, what are the odds!

Now, being the newest face around Septem meant being polite, so after your Potioneering class and after scrubbing away the residue of Lampgrass dew from your vest, you made a beeline to welcome the returning students along with Lumine and Aether.

Hydro's Hearthleader wasn't there, however, having reported to the Headmaster as soon as he arrived. Far from being chagrined, you make formal introductions with everyone else after an embarrassing trip down the stairs.

Your first official meeting with the one and only was during the Hearthleader's Assembly, a time of discussion over the next events, competitions, charity programs, festivals, and the whole shebang that takes place at the start of each semester.

Since there's no Hearthleader for the Nulls, Aether and Lumine take turns in attending; and since your enrollment, this happened to be your first Assembly.

Familiar faces you've gotten to know calmed your nerves, being in good standing with everyone else but that man who stared you down with inquisitive eyes.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss [Name]. I am Neuvilette, Hearthleader of Hydro, I've heard wonders about you, and I look forward to your presence in the Academy. Should you be in need of any assistance, or have been wronged by anyone, I implore you to seek me.”

Long silver hair with streaks of aqua, a passive expression on his features, a walking cane that screamed luxury, and a cloak that billowed like the current—if you thought Ayato had an imposing aura as Hearthmaster, then you were terribly wrong.

Hearthleader Neuvilette appeared to be a man of a few words, his gaze oft inexplicable as he firmly shook your hand after giving it a thoughtful look. You thought you were a moment away from interrogation, but he only turned your hand over and kissed its back. Wha-?

You could manifest a question/exclamation mark out of your head at the gesture, Hearth Hydro's chivalry flying off the charts and rendering you speechless. Ayato, he did it with some sort of 'gentleman cunning' if that was even a word pair, Xingqiu did it out of sincerity, Childe was more playful with it, and Dottore—well, that man was peculiar. [He was misplaced and transferred to a different Hearth.]

You didn't expect this tall, handsome, intimidating Hearthleader to do the same. But then again, with a position like his, he was meant to embody what his Hearth represented, right? You shouldn't have been so shocked.

Throughout the Assembly, however, the awe remained. He even his tea, saying it was only right to extend good tidings to the newest student in Septem. He barely smiled, but his eyes were—well, they were softer than you realized.

He even apologized on behalf of his Hearthmates 'in case they did anything to offend you', which got you shaking your head wildly and responding that they were most courteous. Childe was more of a playful menace, but you omitted that part. And ooooh boy, with the subtly proud look he wore on his face brought about by your answer, you didn't dare say anything about Childe's flirtations.

Huh! Perhaps the man wasn't so bad after all. In fact, he was mellow. You realized that the air around him and Zhongli was a little tense though, and not in the good sense. Thankfully, they were composed and tolerant of one another—but you couldn't shake off the feeling that they had issues running deeply that they didn't want to address. At least not of late. Oh well.

The long-standing tradition of Hearth Hydro's invitation for tea parties ensued. With their Hearthleader back in their ranks alongside other returning students, the long winding table in their great hall was finally complete. Insert a couple of chairs for you—and Aether and Lumine whenever they join in—and everything was solid.

Hearthleader Neuvilette's return also had a significant impact on the rest of the Hearths, mainly Hearth Dendro's residents... and particularly Kaveh, who showed a bit more restraint when contending with Childe. Their rivalries didn't disperse into thin air, no, but it became a tad 'quieter'. That alone was quite alarming, but the ladies in Hearth Hydro said that it was frankly normal; with Neuvilette back in the picture, the Student Council's Iudex was basically in his seat again.

No wonder everyone's rowdiness suddenly got tamer.

Being a Hearthleader and the Iudex—practically accounting for as the Head of the Student Council—commanded authority. You heard that it was previously Zhongli, but he has long since stepped down. While Zhongli managed with more order along with lax but well-managed funding for events and programs, Neuvilette was more of an adjudicator, valuing justice and equality.

Reading the records of his just governance made you gulp. Really? That same guy who personally pulled your chair for you to sit? Who permits you to have the first sip of tea during his tea party even when his Hearthmades say that he's never done that before?

It was common courtesy! Common courtesy, yes!

“Since Hearthleader came back, those Dendro know-it-alls can barely do anything during our debates during Incantations class, hah!” “Are you implying that you've both gone overboard with your Incantations when I was absent, Childe?” “Wha- hey now, I didn't mean it like that... Hearthmaster was with me the whole time.” “You don't want to tempt our Hearthleader, Ajax. Do you recall the last time you provoked them? We had to disturb Sigewinne from her shift in the infirmary.” “You speak as if you weren't a part of it, Hearthmaster.” “Now, where'd you get that idea, lady Mona?” “Well, the past is the past. Whatever happened, I'm certain you were all responsible enough to handle the consequences. Let us begin the tea party—.. where is lady Furina?” “I believe lady Barbara was last with her.” “Oh! I, um- I have slipped up; I accidentally told her that since she wasn't here for the Theater Program that was being planned for the public, Hearth Pyro had to take the spot. I think she's contending for the main role...” Ding! “Was that yours, lady Kokomi?” “Yes, I just received a message from Furina.. she says to come and help her because the casting director put her on a list, and the temporary manager for the Theater is Madame Arlecchino...” “... This tea party is paused.”

— Wriothesley, Freminet

You did not want to admit it nor did you want to condemn the sweet guy, but perhaps lounging about Hearth Pyro's dorm had Bennett's catastrophic bad luck rubbing off on you.

Recently, you had a bout of stumbling into unfavorable circumstances that inevitably led to tons of false accusations. Of course, your innocence was easily proven given you had alibis and witnesses. But this time- ohoho, no.

It had been a relatively nice afterlunch and you were just about to head into the library for an arranged study group with Candace and the rest of Hearth Hydro's ladies when you chanced upon a waddling mechanical.. penguin? It had cute tiny gears for eyes and a winding key attached to its back.

You would coo—but that was if it didn't have a sword and buckler on and was terrorizing a frantic Itto and Gorou out of Ingenuity class. Thinking quickly on your feet, you cast a minor Cryo spell that froze the penguin's mechanical feet so it couldn't continue chasing after its victims. Then, you moved to pry the sword and buckler—but it was at this exact time that a cough came from the back.

Heizou and another student who looked far gruffer than expected looked on with equal parts amusement and disbelief. You only saw the latter in passing since he was a part of the last returning batch of students, but he had sped away to some office before you could get to him that day.

You did not think this would be how you'd officially meet him!

“Um.. good afternoon.” great, what a way to imply that you were not the perpetrator of chaos nor the inventor of a killing machine.

“Good afternoon, indeed.” Heizou mused, and the man beside him clicked his tongue with a shake of his head.

“I know you, miss [Name]. I need you to come with me though,”

There was a sound of metallic clinking and—hold on, were those handcuffs?!

“We can discuss this situation in a civilized manner in my office, yeah?”

Although Heizou promised that he'd do his best to investigate the situation with Cyno since you weren't the kind of person to have an incentive to end someone's life, you were far too restless sitting in what you could only assume was some kind of interrogation room.

What on Teyvat—the fact that such a place even existed was beyond you! What were the odds that this location was underneath the Academy? It felt like descending into a completely different environment; what with all the machines and metal that gave off a steampunk feel.

The man in front of you was fixing his cufflinks, unbothered by your presence. Wriothesley was his name, part of Hearth Cryo, and the Warden of the Student Council. Specifically the head of SC's Discipline Committee.

Septem's higher-ups loved designating lots of managerial roles to their students, huh? But well, you understood why; Vision-holders were preconceived to take on a majority of roles in their nations' government once they graduate, so this was some kind of field training for them!

.. Why did he have to go the extra mile and carry some handcuffs, though? And can a man look so stern and give off such a relaxed vibe? Somehow, he reminded you of a Hearthleader you met just recently.

Surprisingly, when the talk began, Wriothesley reassured that he wouldn't harm you—the handcuffs were just there to make sure you wouldn't be doing the harming. It was funny, you don't think you could even make a dent in his muscular—yeah...

He was also very accommodating?? Serving you tea and biscuits as if you weren't bound and were the primary suspect of a potential campus homicide. It wasn't true, of course, but still; if there were actual bad people that found themselves underneath the Academy, was he always this cordial?

Ah, well, he did say he liked things civilized. When Heizou and Cyno—who joined in on the investigation—entered the room and clarified that you were, in fact, innocent, Wriothesley was quick to offer his apologies... even sliding a few coupons he whispered gave a huge discount in Fontaine's restaurants.

“I certainly do apologize. I had to take precautionary measures. It eases me that Neuvilette's insight was true, though; you do come off as a good woman that likes to behave.”

ASDFGHJKL?? Boy, why was he smiling?

“I'm so sorry I dragged you into my mess... I shouldn't have left Thelxie alone when he was already malfunctioning. I ran off to get the tools I needed, but.. huh? You forgive me?”

A shy and downcasted student distracted you from Wriothesley's statement, and your attention was thrown off. The creator of the dangerous penguin machine was a guy who didn't even look to have any malicious intent. It was a misunderstanding with a dash of improper management and impairment.

He was carrying the recently tinkered penguin in his arms, which was free from its weapon and shield, and now that it was harmless, it looked cute.

The student shyly introduced himself as Freminet, and you recognized him as one of the boys that stood at the far back of the group when they returned a few weeks ago, willing himself to be invisible. He was Lyney's younger brother if you weren't mistaken. It was so amazing how siblings could be so vastly different in personalities.

Freminet was kind enough—or perhaps he did it because he was kicking himself over his blunder—to escort you out of the 'Fortress', leading the way back to the upper levels and to the ground floor of the Academy. He didn't say a word the entire while.

When all was over, he bowed his head and sped off. Feeling sorry for him, you didn't give chase. The guy felt so bad, you couldn't even be mad for today's fortune.

But since that day, little trinkets would appear on your desk during Ingenuity class. You never got to see who left them there, but judging by the waddling mechanical penguin you spotted trying to escape the door one day... you had a feeling you knew who it came from.

Wriothesley had a knack for 'apprehending' misfits, and you only later learned that there was an apparent reason for his calculated 'hunts'. Hearth Cryo, in their weekly gatherings bundled around the fireplace, liked to chat about a lot of things going on in the Academy.

They didn't mean anything bad, really, but the Hearthmembers were keen on observing, opting out of any outward actions unless the situation required their intervention. So of course, the only outlet for such a bundle of news—read: 'innocent' gossip—was during their get-togethers.

It was a den of information—and daresay, you wouldn't forget the time you were invited for a sleep-over and got a firsthand experience of Hearth Cryo's scary number of observations.

You reminded yourself not to look stupid whenever any of them were nearby.

“The windows are broken in Elementals Class again, and it had just been repaired last week... it gets tiresome to look out for the perpetrator... I often fall asleep..” “Elementals... supernatural entities can harm physical entities, so perhaps-?” “I don't think ghosts are the issue, Chongyun. But I do have an idea... hm, do you recall that bottle we saw underneath the table, Charlotte?” “Yes, yes, sir Kaeya! I took a photo of the room for documentation to send to the Student Council. It was a wine bottle!” “Oh.. I also saw a wine bottle tucked in one of the drawers in Ingenuity Class.” “Ingenuity Class? Duly noted, Freminet.” “Alcohol consumption is forbidden on school grounds so that clearly violates one of the terms in the student handbook.” “Such irresponsibility.. not to mention the lack of accountability. Vengeance will come upon them, surely. Tsk. Are rules not being reinforced enough?” “Precisely, miss Ganyu, Eula. That is why it is only right to search for said students and have them come in for a little questioning, perhaps also give them a due punishment. It's only right that we stand by the given order.” “.. That wouldn't be easy, right? There are so many s-students in Septem, and this has already been going on for so long..” “Yes, but it isn't impossible, Mika, after all..” “Wait, hold on, has anyone seen Rosaria?” “Oh, miss Ayaka, worry not. She's scoping out the potential rulebreakers as we speak.”

— Lyney, Gaming

You remembered the day you rushed out of Potioneering class to greet the returning students—and now that you're actually going down memory lane, your attempt at decorum was met half-heartedly midway. By the time you arrive at the front gates, most of them have already gone off to their own agendas.

The only ones there were a pair of boys that goofed around with one another, and another shy-looking one with a quiet girl. It was such an embarrassing introduction, really. In your delight, you may have hurried down the steps a little too fast... and ended up tripping and stumbling on your way down.

Your shriek took their attention, and the guy nearest to the stairs was quick enough to catch you.

Safe to say, you went back to your dorm that day unable to talk to Aether and Lumine, opting to flop onto your bed, red face first.

Since then, meeting those boys would always trigger that moment in your head and you'd scramble or shy away against your better judgment. It took a long while before you were able to talk to them without feeling like you wanted to throw yourself out the window.

Before that instance, they took it upon themselves to approach—sometimes corner—you for a stroll outside the Academy. They expended such a ridiculous amount of energy that you thought you spent a decade's worth of magic reserve.

Students in Hearth Pyro were no joke.

“Woah there! Glad I caught ya, you're fine, right? Better in my arms than the ground. Trust me... it sucks.”

Gaming was the one that caught you that day, a relieved laugh escaping his lips as he held you in such a way that looked as if he dipped you in a dance, it was humiliating. He didn't tease you or anything, though, bless his good heart.

Very extroverted much like his hearthmates, he blatantly called you over to sit with him in the cafeteria one afternoon. It wouldn't be a problem if he hadn't called from across the place and every head had turned to look at the two of you. Quick steps led you to the table he shared with Xiangling, Hu Tao, Xingiu, and Chongyun, with the Cryo student looking empathetic.

Now, being with Gaming didn't spell tons of embarrassing moments, of course. If there was a student popularity ranking in the Academy—you heard there was one a long time ago, but that got scrapped because certain people got competitive..—Gaming probably would've gotten the lead, or he would've tied with either Lumine or Aether.

Everyone knew the guy! Apparently, it was because he acted as the bridge to the Academy and Teyvat, escorting civilians in and out of Septem for respective visits. Sometimes, he worked alongside Kirara from Hearth Dendro, who handled the delivery of tiny parcels and souvenirs to and fro.

Boy, the energy he had was endless! Students coming from Hearth Pyro had this uncanny ability to mingle with other Hearths and not get tired; Gaming was the same, but he was taking it up a notch when even the professors adored him.

One time, he was showing you the ropes of Wushu Dancing when he tripped over a prop and ended up stumbling over you to the floor with his huge dragon head prop and all. Needless to say, Charlotte and Childe chanced upon you at the wrong time, and.. well, it was a hassle to dispel whatever rumor and gossip sprung then.

“What a stroke of luck that was, wasn't it, miss [Name]? Oh dear, you must've been frightened, here you are, a little magic to distract you~ Tada! A rose!”

This Academy wasn't so strict with its uniform policy, you realized. So long as they wore the standard fit with either the vest or the blazer, they could add whatever flair they wanted. And Lyney, well, he wore a top hat, selling the point of a charming magician quite well with his twin sister Lynette.

You never forgot the way he mischievously leaned over when Gaming had caught you in your first meeting, rubbing his chin and musing about 'a maiden having fallen from the steps of heaven'. It was flustering because he wasn't entirely off; the corridor you went from previously led to the Mirror Court, where the entire environment was the very sky.

Some days, you wondered if Lyney was misplaced like Dottore was. With how he was acting, it felt like he belonged in Hearth Hydro. He wasn't a student who actively exhibited an interest in rivalries, but you learned that his smile served well in magic shows as it did with passive-aggressive goading. He liked playing innocent.

This guy also loved leaving roses on your desk. The first time it happened, you mistook it as something that came from Ayato or anyone from Hearth Hydro [the men there had a tradition of giving flowers to women]. They didn't really give red roses, but still.

Long story short, Lyney bounded up to you after class with Lynette and Freminet in tow looking so excited, only to have his eye twitch when you spoke about your due thanks to someone from Hearth Hydro.

He got so melodramatic over it that he reasoned the only way to make up for punching his heart was to—surprise surprise! Go see a movie with him on the weekend. You didn't have any problems with it—but you didn't know he meant it as going outside the Academy, to a mall. When certain people heard of it, well... suddenly there were other invites to the movies, too.

There was never a lonely day in Hearth Pyro, and the arrival of the rest of its members seemed as though everyone got twice as exuberant in their day-to-day activities. Alternatively, it also meant a lot more managing from Dehya and Diluc.

Lyney and Gaming offered another layer of elation and intensity in the Hearth's hosted events for Septem, and both had audiences even outside Septem Academy. They have tons of followers on their social media that they could almost pose as celebrity students, especially Lyney, Yoimiya, Xinyan, and Diluc. Hu Tao was also famous but.. for a completely different reason.

Anyway, Hearth Pyro was hosting a Theater Program that keyed on Romeo and Juliet, with musical scores and scenes held in collaboration with Yunjin from Hearth Geo. Anything theatrical was often hosted by Hearth Hydro, but given that Furina wasn't present in the making, the duty fell upon the hyperactive, exuberant group in the Academy. Amber invited you to sit in on their casting discussion, but never thought you'd actually get roped in the production process...

“Where's Amber? Oh, and Yanfei?” “Amber's fetching [Name]. Yanfei is passing on the documents for estimated expenses and all the jazz for this Program we're hosting.. say, lemme help ya with that, Diluc.” “No need, Dehya. It's fine—where's Bennett?” CRASH! “I'm here!” “Oooh, [Name]'s coming, is she? Are Aether and Lumine coming with?” “I don't think they're going to come knowing how you pulled them into one of your advertisements for your funeral service business, Hu Tao...” “Teehee!” “Chevruse, do you have prospects for our lead roles? Miss Arlecchino waits for the list. She appears quite fond of this play.” “Ah, Thoma. Lyney here was very vocal about wanting to try something new outside his magical shows, but he'll still have to audition for the role along with Venti, Xingqiu, Kaeya, and Ayato.” “Sir Kaeya and the Hearthmaster Ayato? How- well, the compensation for the lead roles is pretty big.” “I'm just as confused and weirdly excited, Xiangling.” “Hey.. sir Kaeya's trying out. Diluc, don't cha want to try and audition for Romeo, too-” “M'afraid not, Xinyan.” “Lyney's only choosing to audition because he made a bet with Lynette and lost. It wouldn't hurt if [Name] gets to be Juliet, though, right?” “Gaming, my friend, what's got you assuming? Ahaha...” “Hold on, why are there so many prospects, anyway? The last time a Theater Program was held, no one was this interested in acting. What gives?” “Huh? I thought Yoimiya and Hu Tao said that they got [Name]'s consent to be Juliet. Wasn't that why Amber was getting her?” “WHAT?” “Thoma, you ratted us out! D:” “I- I didn't know that they didn't know!”

a/n

LMAO yes, welcome to the harem, men. haaaah, this is finally out. it's been long! i ought to write septem scenarios just so i can write about every single character there is lmao! feels nice to write again. i have another idea in mind for this au and it excites me hehehehhe-

[srvbryn]

Luke Castellan. Detention

Not set in riordanverse & highschool au!Luke; MASTERLIST

Luke Castellan X f!reader

Summary: "Well, well, look who's joined the detention club" Luke gets detention — He misplaced his history textbook, and what's better than stealing borrowing it from the library?

Warning: teenagers acting like teenagers, not a lot of dialogues, they have houses like the one in Harry Potter lol (only mentioned once) & Reader house is not mentioned, this is a bit boring

The detention room felt confined, with time moving at a snail's pace. Luke sat there, tracing imaginary patterns on the desk, the minutes ticking away like a never-ending countdown.

Just when he thought he was alone with the hum of Mr. D and the ticking of the clock, the door creaked open, and in walked (Name), a smirk on her lips.

"Well, well, look who's joined the detention club," Luke teased.

(Name) rolled her eyes and took the seat next to him. "Figured I'd keep you company. Detention is always more fun with a partner in crime, right?"

Luke couldn't help but chuckle — "Partner in crime, huh? I like the sound of that."

As the minutes passed, the two of them had whispered conversations, exchanged notes, and made light of the situation.

(Name) couldn't resist making fun of Luke's situation.

"So, what's the grand crime that got you in here, Luke?" she asked with a sly grin.

A few hours ago — LUKE CASTELLAN

Luke's risky textbook stealing borrowing scheme involved a well-thought-out strategy that, avoided the school administration's watchful gaze.

He may or may not have misplaced his textbook accidentally.. hahaha

However, this time, it was a classic case of overconfidence that led to his downfall.

Luke decided to carry out his plan during the school assembly, when most teachers were busy with maintaining the wandering student body under control.

Confident that he could slip in and out like a shadow, he ventured into the classroom, only to find himself face-to-face with the one teacher who had decided to stay behind to organize some papers.

As he reached for the textbook, Mr. Chiron looked up from his work and caught Luke in the act. The moment was frozen, and an uneasy silence filled the room.

Luke's grin faded into a sheepish smile as he tried to come up with a plausible excuse.

Mr. Chiron raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Luke Castellan, what exactly are you doing in here during the assembly?"

Luke scratched the back of his head, attempting to feign innocence. "Oh, you know, just wanted to get a head start on some reading. Education waits for no one, right?"

"Nice try, Mr. Castellan. I don't recall giving you permission to access the library during the assembly. Detention it is."

And that's how Luke's textbook borrowing adventure came to an abrupt halt, leading him to the very detention that (Name) chose to join.

Luke leaned in, a gleam in his eyes. "I may have liberally borrowed some textbooks without asking. The school administration didn't appreciate my innovative approach to study materials."

(Name) burst into laughter, earning them a stern look from Mr. D. "Classic Hermes house move. Couldn't just check out a classroom book like the rest of us, huh?"

"Where's the fun in that?" he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. "Besides, I thought it added a touch of rebellion to my academic pursuits."

The two of them continued to jokes, causing the otherwise boring detention surprisingly pleasant.

The more they chatted, the more (Name) realized there was more to Luke than his rebellious exterior.

They even swapped a few sarcastic comments about the school's absurd rules. (No phones allowed, must wear a tie all the time, don't run in the hallways (the usual))

The teacher on duty, Mr. D, sat at his desk, buried in paperwork (surprisingly) unaware.

Luke discreetly crumpled a piece of paper and passed it to (Name) with a glint in his eyes.

They exchanged a knowing look, silently agreeing on their next move. (Name), with a suppressed giggle, aimed the paper at the back of Mr. D's head and let it fly.

The paper landed with a soft thud, catching the teacher's attention. He turned around, narrowing his eyes at the seemingly innocent duo.

"Alright, who did that?" Mr. D demanded, scanning the room.

Luke and (Name) exchanged innocent glances, attempting to suppress their laughter. Mr. Anderson sighed, suspecting he was dealing with a pair of children.

As Mr. D returned to his paperwork, the both of them couldn't resist another attempt at amusement.

This time, Luke folded the paper into an aeroplane. With a quick motion, he launched it at Mr. D, causing it to glide gracefully through the air.

The paper airplane did a loop-de-loop before landing on Mr. D's desk, right in front of him. He looked up, a mix of irritation and bemusement on his face.

"Alright, that's enough. We're in detention, not a paper competition," he scolded, shaking his head.

Luke and (Name) exchanged a glance, barely containing their laughter.

As the final minutes of detention passed, Mr. D kept an eye on them, suspecting that more antics were on the way.

Luke and (Name), however, had already shared enough laughs to make their time in detention enjoyable.

Luke couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment as the clock ticked down to the end of their detention.

He glanced at (Name), a genuine smile playing on his lips. "Same time tomorrow, partner?"

(Name) raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming. "Only if you promise not to get caught every time."

Luke chuckled. "Deal."

[crystaltoa]

We’ve touched a bit on how life in Metru Nui wasn’t exactly equitable for all Matoran but I think I found some examples that really drive it home…

Okay… so most Ga-Matoran are students, and so there’s a lot of non-Ga-Matoran living, or at least working, in their metru to keep things running. But it seems Ga-Matoran could be students their entire lives if they so chose. I do wonder how those other Matoran might have felt about that, and whether it led to any resentment towards the Ga-Matoran? Or perhaps the inequity was so deeply ingrained they just felt they were lucky to get a job in Ga-Metru, especially if they had come from one of the rougher/ more dangerous regions..

Speaking of which…

Some of the Po-Matoran lived in ACTUAL CAVES. It’s a futuristic city inhabited by biomechanical lifeforms, and there are people having to live in caves.

And if the “Assembler’s village” sounds like a more pleasant option to you…

…IT’S NOT.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you think Riddle is so short because of what his mom made him eat ?

Like only making him get the perfect amount of calories like in his overblot backstory

Maybe it is because his mom is also short? Anyways she doesn't seem tall, also where is his dad.

***PLEASE NOTE: I am NOT speaking as a dietician or a doctor; the information and interpretations presented here are based my own scientific knowledge and research, and apply ONLY to the analysis of a fictional character. This post is NOT meant to be taken as any sort of medical or dietary advice.*** Personally, I'm not of the belief that Riddle is short due to his controlled dietary intake. In very simple terms, calories can be thought of as the fuel you burn to get through activities. While a caloric deficit can contribute to stunting of growth, I don't think this applies to Riddle since he lives a relatively sedentary lifestyle (sitting and studying) and is provided an adequate amount of calories per meal. I want to take a quick moment to dispel the commonly held belief that Mrs. Rosehearts underfeeds Riddle. This seems to sprout from a misinterpretation of a line in 1-25 when she is serving Riddle a birthday meal. Here, she states the exact amount that Riddle must have in order to not overshoot 600 kilocalories. This is led some fans to think that Mrs. Rosehearts restricts Riddle to 600 kilocalories a day, which is just not true. From the dialogue, it is clear that Riddle is granted 600 kilocalories per meal. Assuming 3 meals a day, that means 1800 kilocalories per day, which is very close to the recommended 1745 kilocalories for the average 8-year old boy (not accounting for fluctuations from individual child to individual child). This is a perfectly normal intake, but is appears strange at first glance because very few parents actively calorie count what their child eats to this extent.

Back to the original topic, nutrient intake also contributes to height. (Think of nutrients as the building blocks to a building called your body, and the calories as workers or the 'energy' that assembles the building/your body.) However, that doesn't mean that I think Riddle didn't get enough nutrients; it is possible to have low calorie meals which are nutritious. (For example, athletes may have to follow specialized diets in order to attune their bodies to whatever sport or activity they do. Similarly, Vil crafts a diet for the VDC/SDC squad in book 5 which cuts out junk food, is overall lower in calories, and still provides the group with the energy they need for practice.) Mrs. Rosehearts has dialogue where she describes the nutritional content of the meals she has prepared, which seem to be tailored for brain function. I'm going to assume that those meals also adequately provided for Riddle's other nutritional needs. I don't have reason to believe Mrs. Rosehearts, a doctor and mother who is detail-oriented and hellbent on her child's success, would knowingly and intentionally sabotage his health.

It’s canon that maintaining physical wellbeing makes for a good mage (which is why NRC makes its students take P.E.). Additionally, eating well is said to be one way a mage can make a recovery from blot accumulation. If Riddle were eating poorly and/or was of poor health, that would only mean struggles with concentration and his magic suffering the consequences—and that’s very much counterintuitive to the success that Mrs. Rosehearts envisions for her son.

You don’t need an abundance of calories or nutrients for growth and development. The excess will get stored as adipose tissue/fat or (depending on the nutrient) exit the body as waste. It’s important for a child to be fed well in order to grow properly, but generally if they aren’t malnourished (ie getting less than what they need) then they wouldn’t be stunted.

By in large, genetics is the major deciding factor in height. I believe current studies suggest as much as 60-80% of one's height is predetermined by DNA sequences (although those DNA sequences can be altered by the environment and outside other factors). It could very well be that Riddle is just short because his ancestors had the "short" gene. Looking back at manga images of Riddle's mom from the manga, she doesn't seem that short to me. Even when Mrs. Clover is bowing her head to her, both moms appear to be about the same height (if Mrs. Clover were standing). Maybe Mrs. Clover is a little taller (it's hard to say just staring at the image), but not by a lot. If I had to guess, they seem to be about average height for women. That doesn't mean anything in terms of genetics though, you could be any height and still carry the "short" gene to pass onto your children (the shortness trait just isn't always expressed outwardly.)

If I had to guess, I’d say Riddle is just “naturally” short or drew a bad lot in terms of genetics (since his height seems to be a sore spot for him). He’s about that age where most men will stop growing too (although some do grow well into their late teens and even early twenties).

Regarding Mr. Rosehearts, we haven't seen him yet but he's definitely mentioned a few times! He is said to be a medical mage like his wife and is implied to not have a happy marriage with her (according to Riddle). That's about all we know of him now. Some parental figures just get less focus than the other, and that’s the case for Mr. Rosehearts as well as many others (Mrs. Trappola, Mr. Spade, Mrs. Asim, etc.).

It’s possible that the short gene came from Mr. Rosehearts, but we don’t know for sure since we’ve never gotten so much as a silhouette for him. Again though, he could be tall or average but have an unexpressed short gene. I believe many fans headcanon him as short though, as the King of Hearts in the source material is smaller and meeker than his wifez

[augentrust]

living for the idea that whenever professor widogast puts in sudden notice for “sabbatical” and it gets mysteriously fast-tracked by archmage becke, the members of the assembly start getting flighty. meanwhile the underground student-led betting ring takes off

[yuurei20]

Translation from Twisted Wonderland the 2nd novel: Spelldrive Practice Match (pt 4/5)

"As Cater says, the unity of the Savanaclaw students—led by Leona—is overwhelming. With their own hastily assembled team, there is no way for them to compete.

Especially the inexperienced first-year students, who have barely ever played before.

Grim and the others have simply worn themselves out chasing after a disc that is always just above their heads. Deftly guided to where they would be at their weakest, they would find themselves isolated from their own team before they realized it.

And, once separated, there was nothing they could do but take the torment.

Spelldrive played by Leona’s team is like a hunt: efficient, elegant, and merciless. The Savanaclaw players surround their prey, toy with their targets, and laugh.

As the sun begins to set, the lights that illuminate the field cast a stark, shimmering glow on the dismal scene. Once again Grim makes rough contact with an opposing player, his small body rolling along the ground like dust blown by the wind.

‘Grim!’ Yuuya shouts toward the field. ‘Hey, are you okay?’

‘There's no way I'm okay!’ Grim yells back. He seems to still have some energy left, but his confidence from before the match is gone.

‘I can't take this anymore...Yuu, switch with me.’

‘Hey, you were the one who was the most pumped up about this…’ Ace struggles to stand but nearly topples, steadied by a hand that reaches out to save him from falling.

Just as Yuuya moves to step out onto the field, Ruggie interjects.

'Hey now. It's not cool for outsiders to interfere with a match.’

‘But everyone is so beaten up…!’

‘And?’ Ruggie mockingly tilts his head. ‘If you're serious about Spelldrive, you're gonna get worn out. Besides, injuries are part of any sport.’

‘B-but, when Grim got knocked into just now…that looked like it was on purpose.’

‘Huh? You tryin’ to say that that was our fault? I'd appreciate it if you didn't go making baseless accusations.’

Despite Yuuya gathering all his courage for this confrontation, Ruggie brushes him off without a care.

The player who ran into Grim gives a bark of laughter. ‘Yeah, that’s right!’

‘We’re practicing our tails off over here, where’s the gratitude?’

‘Damn it. They’re mocking us.’ Deuce spits brownish saliva onto the ground. He may have cut the inside of his mouth when he fell. He wipes his mouth with the back of his fist, which Cater then grabs, to stop him.

’Picking a fight would be playing right into their hands. Everyone—instead of following the disc, let’s stick to our teammates and keep ourselves safe.’

‘That’s a good strategy. If you can pull it off.,’ Leona chuckles, looking down at the frustrated group.

‘On your feet, herbivores. This barely counts as practice for our team. We need you to at least stand in as targets for the disc.’

[minastras]

mr. vice president // yeonjun

Choi Yeonjun was an ace, and everyone knew it. He was a star athlete, top student, creative genius, school vice-president, and prom royalty. The only person who even came close to his level was you.

at a glance: gender neutral reader, rivals to lovers, high school au, fluff, angst, ft. soobin, beomgyu, aespa's karina and winter

words: 7.3k

warnings: shit tonnes of swearing, brief mention of sports-enforced dieting (not weight related)

——————————

You liked being the best, and you were good at it.

Your list of titles and achievements was long for your age: President of the student council, most promising player on the basketball team, and top performer in every exam season. In any metric you could name, you were always in either first or second place.

The person you had jockeyed for first with for the last four years was none other than Choi Yeonjun, the golden boy, the unstoppable force to your immovable object.

He was the most promising player on the football team. As your Vice-President, you two were the highest-ranking student leaders in the school. Perfectly and equally matched in academics, you both constantly oscillated between the two top spots on the yearly grade rankings. You could’ve been a high school power couple had it not been for one thing: you hated each other’s guts.

Your rivalry was well known throughout the school, although most people saw it as just a mildly petty competition. No one would ever expect such capable, talented, and hardworking students to indulge in that sort of immature behaviour. The only people who knew the true extent of your animosity were your kids.

You and Yeonjun called the other student council members your kids, and they in turn called you both their parents. On the administrative side Yeonjun had under him Soobin, the general secretary, and Beomgyu, the treasurer. On the operations side you led Jimin, head of logistics, and Minjeong, communications and liaison officer. Of course, you two had also fought over who would take admin and who would take operations (the kids voted in the end). Sometimes when you and Yeonjun were acting up too much, one of them, usually Soobin, would say, “Not in front of the kids!”

But as co-leaders of the student body, your school’s star athletes, and joint cohort-toppers, you had a lot in common with each other. Maybe that’s why you disliked him so much: he reminded you of yourself.

——————————

You and Yeonjun were indeed busy bees. Your school days started earlier than everyone else’s, because you were in charge of the morning announcements and had to get ready before assembly. During breaks when the others got to relax or nap or eat you had disciplinary duties, not that either of you ever actually disciplined anyone (snitches get stitches, even for the golden kids). You also finished school later than most; being in the Excellere class for gifted students meant extra, harder, and longer lessons. After Excellere, you both had sports practice two to three times a week. If it was competition season like it was then, you had practice every day. In between commitments you were always stuck in meetings with him and the rest of the student council, or with him and the school principal.

Since school was just about all you did, that meant you were with Yeonjun for nearly every waking moment of your life, barring weekends. And sometimes not even that. You spent far too many of your precious weekend hours with him, either on Zoom calls or representing your school at external events.

“Good morning, Pres,” Yeonjun greeted that morning, punching your arm as he waltzed into the front office like he did every day. He always called you Pres. Never your name, just Pres. You hated it, and you’d told him as much more than once. That only made him do it more. He pointed at the hot pink post-it note on the announcement book. “What’s this?”

“The Spring Festival ticket sales announcement. Jimin finished setting up the website last night,” you told him. “Minjeong says we can start making the announcement every week, and she’ll put it on the school socials after assembly today.”

“Why can’t you do it?” he asked.

You folded your arms. “Because it’s not my job. She’s our communications officer.”

“What is your job, then? You seem pretty free to me,” he said.

“You’re one to talk. Are you still bitter about losing to me, Mr. Vice President?” you taunted, pointing to his student council badge. It was silver and read ‘student leader’, like all the other members’ badges, while yours was gold and read ‘president’.

“We all know I’m equal in rank to you. The President/Vice President distinction is just a formality,” he retorted, but you knew he had been disproportionately upset by the badge thing when you were both sworn in. 

“A formality you gave up being football captain for, and still lost,” you teased. It was childish, but you stuck out your tongue at him anyway. He seemed to bring that out in you.

Student council Presidents were not allowed to hold a second leadership position, so he had turned down the captain role offered to him because he had expected to be appointed President. It was either him or you, that much had never been in question, but he’d gotten cocky. You remembered him being absolutely gutted about losing the presidency to you, not least because he hated the boy who ended up captain. You, however, didn’t really care about your position on your team as long as you got to play. You did, though, care about beating Choi Yeonjun.

“I’m still the best player on my team,” he countered, defensive and equally childish.

“So am I, genius.”

“I am a genius, aren’t I, Pres? That's why I came first in our latest Excellere ranking.”

You were just about to answer when the principal entered the office. It was almost time for assembly to start. As petty as you both were, you knew better than to fight in front of faculty. Yeonjun, having gotten the last laugh, glanced over at you and winked obnoxiously. You’d get a chance to get back at him later.

——————————

Whenever Yeonjun winked or smirked or rolled his eyes at you, you were reminded of the infuriating fact that he was, undoubtedly, extremely good-looking. He was the golden boy, after all, and it was only fitting for that status to extend to his appearance too. Tall and fit, with gorgeous eyes and the stutter-inducing confidence of someone who knew they were attractive. Other students sometimes greeted you both as you walked around the school (neither of you were that popular in the traditional sense of the word, but you were well known to say the least) and he could often make them swoon with just a smile.

But he didn’t date. In fact, as far as you knew, he’d never dated at all, nor even spoke about it. He was too busy for love, something that no doubt caused heartbreak throughout the whole school.

You were the same: you had no shortage of suitors but no interest in frivolous relationships that would only distract you from your duties. Your immature rivalry with each other was just about the only non-important thing either of you allowed yourselves to partake in. You had places to be, battles to win, things to achieve.

That was a mantra you found yourself repeating in your head more and more these days. You were starting to wonder what was even the point of pushing yourself this hard. Maybe you were burnt out.

Yeonjun nudged you with a smirk when he noticed you nodding off. “Tired?”

“I’m fine,” you said, resolute, sitting up straighter and squaring your shoulders. As much as he got on your nerves, he was also the closest thing to a friend you had in Excellere. You sat together in nearly every class.

He snorted, amused. “Are you sure, Pres? Because class is over,” he said, pointing to the clock at the front of the classroom. Sure enough, the teacher and all of the other students were gone. It was just you and him.

You pushed him to hide your embarrassment. “Whatever. Move, I need to get to practice,” you said, grabbing your bag.

He pushed you back, hard enough to knock you back down into your seat so he could get up first. “Me too, sleepyhead. You’re not special,” he mocked, swinging his own bag victoriously over his shoulder with a triumphant smirk.

“I never said I was. Unlike you, I don’t have an inferiority complex,” you retorted, standing back up and rushing out of the classroom. You were not the type of person to fall asleep in class, and you sure as hell weren’t going to stick around to give him the chance to remind you of that.

——————————

By the time practice ended, you could barely keep your eyes open. It was past 10pm now, and you sat at the bus stop in your basketball uniform, knees pressed to your chest. Your teammates had all gone home, but since you always missed physical training due to Excellere, you had to stay behind and complete your three kilometre run after practice.

“Hey.”

You cracked one eye open to see Yeonjun standing in front of you, hands on his hips, peering down at you curiously. You immediately sat up straight, blinking a couple of times as if that would erase your tiredness. “Why are you here?” you asked.

“It’s a public bus stop, and I’m a free man,” he said, pushing you aside so he could sit down next to you.

“Yeah, exactly. It’s a public bus stop, and there’s plenty of room elsewhere,” you scowled, pointing to the abundance of empty space on the bench aside from the spot right beside you. He winked in answer. “I mean why are you getting the bus? I thought your mom usually picks you up.”

He shrugged, balling up his navy blue football jersey and holding it out to you. “She’s busy tonight.” You stared at the jersey in confusion. He scoffed and shoved it into your arms. “Is your brain broken? Put it on.”

“No, gross. It smells like your sweat,” you said.

“Ungrateful bastard. I can see you shivering.”

You shoved it right back to him. “You wear it then, if it’s so cold.”

“Fine.” He yanked it back and put it on, even though you could tell he hadn’t yet cooled down from his practice. His chest was still rising and falling faster than usual, the veins on his arms were still sticking out, and there were still beads of sweat on his forehead plastering his hair to his skin. Idiot. “Do you always take the bus home alone? What about your teammates?” he asked, looking around. It was dark, and he’d never taken the bus at this time of the night.

“They finish before me. I have to make up my PT because of Excellere. Don’t you?” you asked. He nodded. It seemed like you both were always the first students to arrive at school and the last students to leave. You took your phone out to check the bus timings. “Which bus are you waiting for?” you asked. Yours was coming in a minute.

“I don’t know,” he said, stubbornly pretending like he wasn't overheating in his jersey.

“You don’t know? Have you never taken a bus before?” you mocked. “Well, I suppose that’s what happens when you’re chauffeured around everywhere.”

“Fuck off, Pres. Of course I have,” he countered, defensive. “I take 47 home sometimes.”

“47 doesn’t run this late. You’ll have to take mine and get off two stops after me,” you said, not really sure why you were helping him. He had Google Maps and thumbs, after all.

Right as you said that, that very bus arrived. You flagged it down and rushed on board, not bothering to check if he was following you. He was, and he again sat down next to you in the back of the empty bus with a satisfied grin.

You sighed and looked out the window as the bus started to move. “Can’t you sit somewhere else?”

“No, I cannot,” he said, pulling up the sleeves of his jersey instead of just taking it off like he clearly wanted to do.

“You’ll catch a cold if you keep wearing that and sweating in it,” you told him. The bus was freezing.

“That’s not how colds work,” he shot back, immediately pulling his sleeves back down. “For someone who bangs on constantly about how good they are at biology you’d think you’d know that colds are caused by pathogens.”

You took your headphones out of your bag and plugged them in. “Fine, then. Stew in your grubby discomfort.”

He said something else, but you pretended not to hear him, continuing to look out the window. The rest of the bus ride went by in silence, until:

“Hey,” he said again for the second time that night, knocking his knee against yours. You ignored him. He yanked your headphones out of your ears in retaliation.

“Ow!”

“What’s the matter with you today? Why were you falling asleep in class?” he asked, holding your headphones high above his head, out of your reach. During a momentary flash of self-awareness it occurred to you that you were both far too old to be acting like kindergarteners. You couldn’t imagine what the principal would think if she knew this was how her two star students behaved in private. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, preparing to be made fun of, and stood up briefly to snatch them back. “Why do you care?”

“I want to know if you’re sick so I can avoid you,” he replied.

“No, I’m on a caffeine ban,” you answered, somewhat reluctantly. He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Our coach puts us on diets before competition season to make sure we don’t get sick. No caffeine, no sweet drinks, no fried food.”

He laughed, completely unsympathetic. “And you still lost last year?”

“We came in second at nationals,” you retorted, “while I seem to recall your team didn’t even make it to regionals.”

“At least we get to eat whatever we want,” he said, knowing it was a weak comeback even before he said it. Last year was a bad season for the football team; they lost to a school they should’ve easily been able to beat and didn’t even get the chance to compete regionally. You had teased him mercilessly for it ever since, just barely stopping short of bringing your national silver trophy to school and putting it on his desk. Or carrying it into a meeting with him and using it as a drinking cup.

You reached over and pushed the stop button on the handrail behind him. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the deafening sound of all of my medals clattering together. Move. It’s my stop.”

Annoyingly, he didn’t move, forcing you to climb over him to get out and off the bus. He flipped you off as the bus drove away, and you flipped him off right back.

——————————

Two days before your basketball championship, you’d finally admitted to yourself that you were not doing well. All the practices, student council meetings, and weekly Excellere rankings were starting to get to you. Your school days were fifteen hours long, your nights and weekends lost to studying or catching up on the meetings you and Yeonjun missed while in class or at practice. Which was frustrating, because it wasn’t like you hadn't gotten through these things before. You didn't know what was wrong with you this time.

“What’s with all that stuff?” Minjeong asked, watching you force a towel and a bag of toiletries into your locker and slam the door closed before they fell out.

“Yeonjun and I are staying late today to go over the work you guys did this week, so I need to shower here after practice,” you said. “We’ve missed way too many meetings.”

“Yeah, because you’re both busy. His championships are tomorrow and yours are the day after. Can’t it wait?” Jimin said.

You shook your head. “No, you guys are already doing work that’s meant to be ours.” You paused for a second for comedic effect. “Besides, I hope he’s tired after tonight so he loses tomorrow.” They both laughed.

“As expected of the golden kids,” Minjeong said, giving you a hi-five. Yeah. As expected of the golden kids.

——————————

It was 11pm, and you and Yeonjun were sitting beside each other in an empty classroom going over the minutes from the last three student council meetings. His hair was wet from his shower and he hadn’t bothered to get dressed fully, with too many buttons undone, an untucked shirt, and his tie nowhere in sight. You stopped taking notes.

“Can you please put your uniform on properly?” you asked.

He snatched your pen and notebook away from you to add in something you’d been fighting over for the last ten minutes. “Why do you have yours on like that, with everything all done up and tucked in? There’s literally no one else here.”

“You look unbecoming,” you said.

“I’m comfortable. You should try it. You can’t convince me you like wearing your tie and buttoning your shirt all the way up like that,” he said, pointing the pen at your collar. When he was done writing, he looked up at you in satisfaction and smirked, arrogant. “Or am I distracting you?”

You would never admit it, but he was right. On both counts. He was distracting you. “Is Soobin okay? He’s been doing a lot lately,” you asked, ignoring him, looking over your notes again. If there was anything that could get you and Yeonjun to stop bickering for even a second, it was talking about the other council members.

“I think he’s a little tired. Once we’re both done with our competitions we can start pulling our weight more,” he said, humming thoughtfully, as if you both weren’t already doing as much as you could. “But you’re right, the kids have been working hard. We’re not being the best leaders right now.”

“Yeah, we’re not,” you sighed, thinking about how you’d seen Jimin online past midnight a few days ago. You should be doing more.

Yeonjun kicked you in the shin under the table, ignoring your hiss of pain. “You know who’s not okay? You. You’re fucking out of it these days.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine,” you scowled. “You’re the only person who thinks that.”

He rolled his eyes at your pride. “Yeah, but that’s because I know you better than anyone.” You scoffed at that, but he continued, “Seriously, Pres, who else gets you like I do?”

“Who are you, Sigmund Freud? Stop psychoanalysing me,” you said, glancing over your notes one last time, checking to make sure you had covered every point in the meeting minutes.

“So you think I’m smart?”

“No, I think you want to fuck your mom.”

He relented after that, a type of mercy he didn’t afford you very often. You wondered, then, if you really were as not okay as he was claiming. How had he been the only one to pick up on it? No, you were fine. You were fine. There was nothing to pick up on.

The two of you worked in near-total silence for the next couple of hours. That was a pretty standard affair, once you’d both exhausted your barbs and witty comebacks and didn’t have anything else to say to each other anymore. What wasn’t normal, though, was that you weren’t even being bitchy to each other in the comments of your shared Google Doc as you wrote your emcee script. The thought of Choi Yeonjun, of all people, noticing- you were fine.

“We still need to finalise the event schedule for review by tonight,” he reminded you, breaking the silence. You’d completely forgotten about that, and you never forgot anything.

“I’ll do it. You have your match tomorrow,” you volunteered.

“How charitable of you, Pres,” he said, giving you snark instead of gratitude. You didn’t have it in you to retort, although if the kids were around you probably would have. He raised an eyebrow. “What, no comeback?”

Checking your watch, you mumbled, “It’s past 1am. Let’s just finish this script and go home.”

He looked closely at you. You were being weird, he was sure of it now. He could see the resignation in your eyes, the only sign you’d shown in the four years he’d known you that maybe you weren’t quite as untouchable as you appeared. 

“Hey, seriously, what’s wrong with you? I can’t have you breaking now and leaving all the work to me,” he asked, sounding sincerely worried about you for the first time in his life. He had never thought of you as someone who needed to be worried about.

“I’m fine,” you insisted through gritted teeth, “I just-”

You glanced up at him, which was a mistake. The moment you saw concern (of all emotions) on his face, you cracked. You hadn’t cried in front of another person since you were eight years old and broke your leg in a car accident, but now there were tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. Immediately you blinked them away, hoping he would just let it go. Unfortunately for you, however, he had other plans. He laughed and put his arm around your shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Comforting you, dumbass.”

You shrugged his arm off of you, clearing your throat in a futile attempt to ease the knot you felt forming at the base of your neck. “I don’t feel comforted.”

He scowled, leaned back in his seat, and crossed his arms. “Well, then, talk to me.” His tone was so solemn and authoritative that it made you comply immediately.

“People keep asking me for things and expecting me to be able to do everything and saying that I’m capable of anything but I’m a fraud. I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m so tired and I just want it to stop.” At some point during your outburst you’d started to cry, though you weren’t sure when, because his arm was back around your shoulder and he was palming away the tears on your face with his free hand. He hooked one foot around the leg of your chair and pulled it closer to him.

“You’re not a fraud,” he said under his breath, his eyes staring straight into yours and his hand warm against your cheek. You didn’t know why he was being so kind to you, and, more confusingly, you didn’t know if you wanted him to be. Which was mortifying.

Through the sheer power of your embarrassment, you willed yourself to stop crying. “I’m fine. You can let go of me now,” you told him, looking away.

“Right.” He seemed to snap back to normalcy at the same time as you, moving back and dropping his hands. You both got back to work like a switch had been flipped, aggressively avoiding each other’s gazes.

——————————

It was nearly 2am by the time the script was finished.

“You shouldn’t stay up to do the event schedule. We’ll just tell the school we need more time,” Yeonjun told you as you both started packing up. His words, for once, were void of arrogance or mockery. It made you anxious in a way that was entirely foreign to you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you grumbled, turning away. You hated having to ask for more time, to not deliver something you were meant to deliver.

He grinned. “You mean like this?”

Before you’d had the chance to insult him or tell him to knock it off, he took you by the shoulders and stared right at you, his face just inches from yours.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you asked, but your nervousness slipped through in your voice. He smirked, having heard it too.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Pres,” he began, “but I really want to kiss you.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore your quickening heartbeat. “Yeah, whatever. You think I’m hideous. We’re gonna miss the last bus-”

His lips were on yours without your brain having even had the time to process what he’d said. One of his hands shifted down to your waist while the other moved to your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly. Your own hands instinctively came to rest on his chest, and you found yourself kissing him back without thinking. You could feel his heart hammering through his shirt. He was the first to pull away.

Frozen, you could do nothing but stare at him, with your eyes wide and lips still slightly parted. “What-”

“I had to do it. At least once,” Yeonjun whispered, not moving at all either. He was searching your expression for signs of something, you didn’t know what, but when he didn’t find it he let you go. Neither of you said a single word to each other during the entire hour-long bus ride home.

——————————

What a dickhead. How could Yeonjun go from kissing you to ‘idk about pres’ that seamlessly? He had been so kind, so sweet to you that day. You purged that thought from your head as quickly as it had come.

“There’s our president!” Beomgyu cheered as he let you into the meeting room, and the others broke into applause.

“Congrats on winning your finals yesterday!” Jimin added, still clapping.

You closed the door behind you. “Thank you! Sorry for being late,” you said. “I promise I will not miss a single meeting now that my comps are over.”

When Yeojun eventually showed up, he barely looked at you. You didn’t really know why that upset you as much as it did, or what you had been expecting. Once you all started working, however, you quickly fell back into a familiar rhythm along with the other council members.

“Where’s the chit from the popcorn machine vendor?” you asked Beomgyu, sifting through the stack of papers on the desk.

Beomgyu looked up from the printer that he and Jimin were trying (and failing) to get to work right. It was currently spitting out black and white pages that looked like they had been printed in Hell on a Tamagotchi by Satan himself. “What chit?” 

“The nacho store we were going to get cancelled on us last weekend, so I asked Yeonjun to get a popcorn guy instead,” you explained. Fucking Yeonjun. You turned to him. “Did you forget to call him back? It’s been four days.”

He thought for a bit then shrugged, relishing your annoyance. “I guess so. Whoops.”

“Call him now, before he backs out,” you instructed, turning your attention back to the papers.

“Haven’t you ever heard of saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’?”

You didn’t even bother to look up. “Haven’t you ever heard of doing your fucking job?”

He threw the pen he was holding on the floor in response. The other council members exchanged furtive glances.

“Come on, guys. Not in front of the kids,” Soobin sighed, ever the mediator, picking up the pen. You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to clean up after a child, but that would just make things worse. You continued working.

“What’s going on with you two? You’re even worse than usual,” Minjeong said.

At that, you and Yeonjun locked eyes from across the room. He scoffed and looked away immediately. You watched him closely, but you couldn’t read him at all. You were quickly realising that, despite being mirrors of each other and spending almost all of your time together, you barely knew him.

“It seems our Pres is touchy today,” he teased. “They’re a little stressed out.”

You pinned the papers you were holding together with a paperclip and filed them away. “Watch it, Yeonjun,” you warned.

He ignored your glaring at him, your eyes telling him to stop, continuing, “Despite all appearances, they’re not as golden as they so desperately want everyone to think. They even had a little breakdown before their competition.”

Before anyone else could react, you passed the file in your hands over to Beomgyu (what you were doing was technically his job, anyway) and left. The room fell deathly silent.

——————————

Strangely, Yeonjun followed you into the corridor, feeling a weird compulsion to do so. His feet moved under him without him realising. Running after you and shouting your name, he easily caught up with you in just a few long strides. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, forcing you to turn around.

“Let me go.” You shook his hand off of you, unable to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. This was humiliating.

He laughed lightly, unfazed. “What’s your fucking deal? We’ve said way worse things to each other before,” he said. He had a point. And you did have some sort of tacit agreement with him that nothing was off-limits. Maybe you’d been too naive in thinking that that night was different. That it had meant something.

“Fuck off! I need to go fix your fucking mistake,” you shouted, turning back around. Your voice was trembling.

“Pres, relax,” he teased, taking you by the shoulders and spinning you around before you’d even had the chance to take a single step away from him. He leant down to emphasise the height difference between you two, something he did often that infuriated you to no end, pleased by how easily he could rile you up. “Don’t you know throwing tantrums is counter-productive?”

“I hate you, Choi Yeonjun,” you said coldly, biting the inside of your cheek to try and stop your tears. When all he did was laugh, you pushed him away. Against your wishes, a sob broke its way through your pressed lips and you lost it. You balled your hands up into fists and pounded on his chest repeatedly to get him to let go of you; it was like hitting a brick wall and you both knew it. “I hate you! IhateyouIhateyouIhateyou.”

He stopped. “Are you crying?” You crying once the other day was out-of-character enough, let alone twice in such a short span of time. He was pretty sure he’d never even seen you show the smallest sliver of vulnerability before this week.

“Yes, I’m fucking crying, asshole. I’m glad your snail of a brain finally caught up.” You hit his chest again, so weak you barely disturbed a single fibre on his school blazer.

Any sympathies he might have been forming for you earlier dissipated in an instant. He easily grabbed both of your wrists with one hand to stop you, glowering at you, his jaw clenched. “You should’ve known I would tell the kids. Everything between us is fair game, isn’t it, Pres? Why did you even tell me any of that if you wanted it to be a secret?” he snapped.

All the vitriol in your voice evaporated. When you next spoke, you sounded like a child, scared and upset and betrayed. He had never heard you sound anything like that; it was jarring to the both of you. “Because I thought you would understand.”

There it was. The revelation. Perhaps that was what your entire years-long rivalry with this dick of a man boiled down to: a secret hope that he was struggling as much as you, and a frustration that it didn’t seem like he was. You hadn’t even understood that was what it was until you said it.

He sobered in an instant, his eyes softening in the realisation that he’d gone too far. “Pres,” he said quietly, like he was calling a wounded animal. The guilt in his voice was probably as close to an outright admission of wrongdoing as he would ever get with you. “I didn’t know you were-”

“Whatever, dickwad,” you mumbled, deflated, pulling your hands out of his grasp. “I have to call the vendor before he pulls out of this deal. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Pres, I didn’t know,” he repeated, more urgently this time, still not an apology, following you as you walked away from him. 

You stopped in your tracks and turned back around, your voice now calm and measured, holding up a hand to stop him from continuing. “I will be civil to you for the next week so we can see this event through, but I’m done with-” you gestured vaguely between the both of you. “I’m done with whatever this is. Bye, Yeonjun.”

This time, he didn’t chase after you.

——————————

Why was Yeonjun bringing up the day you both stayed until 2am? The day he kissed you? He made it sound like an average day, as if it had meant nothing to him, but something had clearly changed between you two since then.

He was walking on eggshells around you, trying to crack jokes, and engage you in conversations where he didn’t pick on you. You hated it. It made you feel weak. But you were the only one to pick up on it, which was the upside to every single student council member being up to their eyeballs in stress. None of them really noticed his strange behaviour. Or yours.

The festival kicked off smoothly — so smoothly, in fact, that it took Yeonjun and the rest of the council a whole half hour to realise you were missing. After you and Yeonjun finished your joint emcee duties, they hadn’t needed to call you or report to you for anything.

“Hey, have you seen the pres?” Jimin asked, Minjeong following closely behind her. “We’ve been looking for them everywhere.”

“Nope,” Beomgyu said.

Soobin shook his head. “Me neither.”

Everyone turned to Yeonjun in unison. “I’ll go look for them,” he said, already leaning over to grab his jacket hanging off the back of the chair next to him.

“You can’t leave us too! You’re our second-in-command,” Minjeong pointed out.

“Yeah, whatever. You’re in charge now,” he declared absent-mindedly, not really listening to her, one foot already out the door.

——————————

Yeonjun sprinted straight to the bus stop, ignoring the stares of the other students as he ran right through the festival booths. He got there just in time to see your bus pulling away, letting out a long string of curses that made the elderly man sitting on the bench glare at him. He was usually careful about his behaviour in public, especially when he was in uniform like he was then, but he didn’t care anymore.

Your taunts last week were partly true; he didn’t really know how to take buses, and he really was sort of driven everywhere by his parents. So it took him far longer than it should have to figure out how else to get to your house (he stood there staring at the bus chart for long enough that three different people offered to help him). Even the aforementioned elderly man took pity on him, but not before tsking disapprovingly at his student leader badge and calling him foul-mouthed.

He ran ten minutes from the bus stop he ended up alighting at to your house and reached your front porch without even knowing why he was there at all, but he pounded on your door anyway. You came to the window, peeked out from behind the curtain, and left.

“I can see you, Pres. Open the door,” he called out, out of breath. When you complied, he didn’t even give you the chance to speak. “Why are you here?”

You looked him up and down, deciding to be annoying. You usually did when it came to him. “This is my house. Why are you here?” 

“You know what I meant, dipshit.” How charming.

You let him in and poured him a glass of ice water. It was weird seeing Yeonjun sitting in your living room, like a forced merger of two spheres of your life that you kept separate as much as you could. His school blazer was hanging off the end of the sofa.

“It’s hot,” he said defensively when he saw you looking at it. It wasn’t; he was just sweating from running from the bus stop to your house. He took the glass from you and set it down on the coffee table without using the coaster you’d so nicely placed right in front of him, making you see red. “Four ice cubes? Are you telling me to die?”

“As if you have a superstitious bone in your body, Choi Yeonjun. Is this how you act as a guest in other people’s houses too?” you asked, sitting down beside him.

He loosened his tie and popped the first two buttons of his dress shirt open. “No, just yours.”

“Sure, please make yourself at home,” you said sarcastically. “What do you want?”

“I came to apologise. You disappeared and we all freaked out. God, I can’t believe I’m worried about you-”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Are you sure you know what an apology is?”

“Shut up. I mean-” he groaned in frustration and ran his hands through his hair, something he often did when he got annoyed. “You’re being so difficult!”

“Says the guy complaining about the number of ice cubes I put in his water!”

“For fuck’s sake,” he sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Hang on. Let me start over.”

The living room was completely silent apart from the sound of his heavy breathing. You were about to say something about it — a star athlete being so winded from a short run was pretty entertaining to you — but you decided not to. Your phone dinged. It was Beomgyu telling you the popcorn vendor had shown up late, drunk, and thrown up in the popcorn machine, followed by three increasingly ridiculous reaction images from Megamind. Maybe you shouldn’t have hired a popcorn vendor after all.

“What’s so funny?”

You flashed him your phone screen. “Beomgyu sent me something.”

Yeonjun didn’t even look at it, despite being the one who’d asked in the first place. “I like you,” he declared. 

“Are you having a heat stroke?” you asked, disinterested, typing out a quick reply.

He knocked your phone out of your hand in a huff. “Stop fucking texting Beomgyu.”

Your phone clattered to the floor. “Hey!”

“You are such an irritating person.” He dramatically (as always) got up from the sofa to kneel on the floor in front of you, looking up at you with an indecipherable emotion in his eyes. “I like you, Pres. I have for a while now, but I only realised it the other night. I got scared and I lashed out, but that doesn’t make what I said okay. I betrayed your trust and I’m sorry.”

Your head started spinning, and your heart leapt up into your throat. I like you. Your jaw would’ve dropped open had it not been for every muscle in your body going rigid at once. He casually sat back down next to you, picked up his glass, and took a sip. As if he hadn’t just delivered you the single biggest shock of your life. You could barely get his name out of your mouth.

“Yeonjun, I-”

“Look, you don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you because it was driving me crazy. You drive me crazy, actually-”

You grabbed his tie, pulled him towards you, and kissed him. If he was surprised by your boldness he didn’t show it, his hands easily finding their way to your waist as he kissed you back. His lips were cold from the ice water.

“Thank you for the apology. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He broke the kiss, laughing breathily. “I can’t think straight when you’re kissing me. I didn’t hear anything you said.”

You flicked him lightly on the forehead, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I said thank you for apologising. I appreciate it. But I’m still mad at you.”

“I know,” he said. Right at that moment, both of your phones went off at the same time. “We should get back to school.”

He stood up, casually took your hand, and started walking. You didn’t pull away.

——————————

Although you did it often, being in school this late at night with no one else around never quite stopped feeling other-worldly. Your body was tired, but your mind was still awake and buzzing and alive. 

“I’m sorry I made you miss the festival,” you said as you finished making your rounds through the school to check each room one last time, switch off the mains, and lock the doors. 

“You didn’t make me do anything.” Yeonjun took your hand in his again and gave it a comforting squeeze, before adding, “Don’t be so full of yourself.”

The words were familiar, but his tone and the warmth in your cheeks were not. Choi Yeonjun of all people was making you act shy and blushy. Revolting.

“The golden boy of the school just confessed to me a few hours ago. How could I not be full of myself?” You stopped walking and turned to face him. “I like you,” you mocked, an over-dramatic caricature of his voice.

Yeonjun groaned and hid his face in his hands. “God, I can’t believe I actually said that. Like a character in a Netflix original.” You laughed, wondering if you’d ever laughed with him, not at him, before.

He’d called his mom earlier and told her not to pick him up — he wanted to take the bus with you, even though it would take him twice as long to get home. Leaving the school, you both turned to look back down the empty corridor.

“I guess this is the end of our late nights,” he mused. Your competitions were both over and there were no more events to organise for the year. All that remained were your final exams.

“Until our Valentine’s Day celebrations,” you reminded him. “Jimin wants to start planning that next week.”

He retorted immediately, “I don’t.” As the lights of the corridor started to turn themselves off (they were on automatic timers, which you found very annoying), he leant down, cupped your face gingerly in his hands, and kissed you twice.

“I want to do this.”

——————————

thanks for reading <3

-minastras

[baelabong]

My girl

Pairing: Karen Shetty x Fem! Reader

Warnings: kissing?

Plot: Karen knew her girlfriend was hot, her only problem was she wanted her all to herself.

—————————————————————————

Northshore High was buzzing with activity as Karen Shetty caught the constant attention of students across the hall as they strolled. With Karen’s arm around y/n waist, the taller girl looked ahead with the same dazed look she always had. Although the couple garnered attention, it was Y/N who often found herself the object of affection for many boys.

One day, after their math class, Karen and Y/N walked through the crowded hallways, making their way past others to meet up with Regina and Gretchen. Y/N, with her hot demeanor and downcast eyes, attracted more attention than she was comfortable with due to her short plaid skirt with a cropped top, which was Karen’s favourite top on y/n, that hugged her figure. The taller girl, noticing the subtle glances and attempts at flirtation, couldn't help but feel a possessive twinge. Her normal dazed look twisted into a stare of jealousy.

As they reached Y/N's locker, a group of boys approached, led by Shane, the douchebag who was convinced y/n wanted to fuck him. "Hey, Y/N, I was thinking we could grab lunch together. What do you say?" he asked, flashing a charming smile. This went by with y/n clueless to the look the taller girl gave to the boy.

Y/N, blushing, looked at Karen for guidance. Karen, with a playful grin, replied, "Sorry, Shane, but Y/N and I have plans. We’re going to Taco Bell. Maybe next time."

Shane, undeterred, persisted, "Come on, Karen, can't Y/N make her own choices?"

Karen's eyes narrowed down slightly. "It's not about choices, Shane. It's about respect. And you should show some."

The days that followed saw an increase in attention towards Y/N. The school's rumor mill began churning stories of a rivalry between Karen and the persistent suitors. The tension reached its peak during a school assembly when Shane decided to make his move.

As the assembly ended and the students filed out, Shane approached Y/N with an assertive demeanor. "Y/N, we need to talk. Alone."

Y/N, feeling uneasy, glanced at Karen, who stood nearby. Shane, ignoring the silent warning, continued, "I don't know why you're with Karen. You deserve someone who can treat you better."

Before Y/N could respond, Karen, sensing the situation escalating, stepped forward. "Shane, we've asked you to back off. This is your last warning."

Shane laughed dismissively. "Or what? Are you going to fight for her, Karen?"

Fueled by a surge of possessiveness and frustration, Karen decided it was time to make a statement. She pulled Y/N into a passionate kiss, right there in the school corridor, in front of Shane and a growing crowd of curious students. God, Karen basically ate the girl in front of everyone, making sure that Shane saw how she slipped her hand into the top of the other. (Get a room 🗣️)

The kiss was intense, a mix of asserting dominance and expressing love. When Karen finally pulled away, she looked at Shane with a smirk. "That answers your question. Now, leave us alone."

As Shane retreated, flustered and humbled, Karen turned her attention back to Y/N, who was wide-eyed and blushing. "Karen, what was that?"

Karen, with a softened expression, caressed Y/N's cheek. "Sometimes, actions speak louder than words. I needed to show everyone that you're mine, and no one else's."

Y/N, still processing the bold move, whispered, "But, Karen, we could have handled it differently."

Karen grinned, "Maybe, but sometimes a bold move is necessary. And besides, I couldn't resist kissing you."

—————————————————————————

Lawd have mercy. Avantika is so fine pls 🤬

[s8nny]

—WHEN Sugawara was younger, he always knew what color he wanted to paint the living room walls. He was also certain that he wanted a sofa with a chaise longue and a rug with an unconventional pattern. For his bedroom, he imagined a balcony that would let in plenty of light and blue sheets on the bed. And for his office, a large-capacity bookshelf. But as he stood amidst the scattered screws and half-assembled boards, he realized that some dreams were easier to imagine than to bring to life

She was certain there were more screws on the floor than there should be, but she didn't say anything because her husband's stress was palpable from the doorway. He had spent almost a month working on the room that was going to be his office, and more than once, he'd been so blinded by the excitement he felt for carpentry that he forgot he was never good at DIY projects.

"How's it going?" she asked softly, hoping her voice would ease his tension.

"Well, it seemed easier to put together when we saw it in the store, I'm not going to lie." Without diverting his attention to the figure behind him, the young man continued assembling the shelves, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hands, usually so steady when typing at a keyboard, fumbled with the unfamiliar tools.

Placing her hand on his shoulder, she gently caressed the space of his back that led up to his neck. Knots of stress were noticeable beneath her fingers. “We can always call Daichi,” she suggested, her voice a mix of concern and teasing.

Suga snorted, partly out of frustration and partly out of the stubborn pride that always flared up when he was in over his head. “We’re not going to call Daichi to put together a shelf.” Standing up, he looked at the three wooden boards he had managed to assemble, trying to convince himself that he could still pull this off. “At least, not yet.”

- TWENTY minutes. Daichi Sawamura had put together the shelf in 20 minutes. And he had even enjoyed a cup of coffee while trying out the new coffee maker that Koushi was dying to test. The pout on Sugawara’s lips didn’t disappear until his old friend was out the front door.

She grabbed his elbow and stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and said, “You have no right to complain about your students.”

Returning to the office, they both began to open boxes and fill the bookshelf. The first shelf would be for bank paperwork. The second, for medical documents. The third for photo albums. And the last, for the drawings.

Sugawara had always been very aware of how quickly time passed throughout his life. But ever since he started teaching, he was even more conscious of it. His first students would be moving on to high school the following year, and he had known them when they still drew the sun in the corner of a piece of paper. He could still recall the way their small hands gripped crayons, and how their eyes sparkled with pride when they presented him with their creations. So he decided to keep every drawing they made. Probably, in a few years, he wouldn’t remember their faces, because they kept changing from one day to another, but he would always have their scribbles. It was a way to preserve their childhood over time, to hold onto a piece of them even as they grew up and moved on.

“Look, this kid drew me with a puppy he found on the street because he said I looked like it,” he said, his voice filled with fond amusement.

Sitting on the floor, they amused themselves with the colorful papers they were finding, each one full of creativity and innocence. As she placed them in folders, carefully sorting through the vibrant collection, the young woman began to admire the way her husband’s eyes lit up when he talked about the little devils he had as students. She could see how much they meant to him, how deeply he cared for each of them, and it made her heart swell with affection.

When the floor of the room was almost completely tidied up, she noticed two large folders that remained empty. Unlike the others, these were bright yellow, standing out cheerfully against the more subdued tones of the other folders. Suga placed them on the shelf and smiled proudly, as if he had just completed a task of great importance.

“What drawings are you going to keep in those?” she asked.

“The most special ones,” Koushi replied, smiling as he gently squeezed her hand, “the ones our children will make.”

a/n: I have this cute notebook in my drawer, full of colorful and creative drawings made by my students and two siblings I used to babysit. At the time they made the drawings, the only thing most of them knew how to write was their names, so the pages are filled with their little signatures. They all know how to write and read now. I like to keep these drawings in the notebook so I don’t lose them. So I can remember them as kids. My mom also keeps a folder in her wardrobe with all her kids' crafts. I like to think Sugawara also keeps the things that kids give him safe.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Polaroids.

Phos!Reader × (Platonic) Gojo Satoru

Warnings: Gojo being himself, Gojo being concerned about the reader, probably the fluffiest part so far, still pretty sad, mentions Phos' defection at the end, brief mentions of Haibara, Riko and Geto.

Notes: The urge to post like 5 parts of this a day😔 I'm tryna pace myself and like post once a day but I already have like 5 more parts done, perhaps I like this idea more than I thought😭 maybe I'll post mini snippets about phos, like a Playlist or smthn to listen to while y'all read, idk, might add songs to certain parts? Expect me to post about Catharsis and Catharsis only for a while tho💀

"Gojo - sensei?"

Gojo turned to face you, seeing your silhouette in his doorway. He almost wondered if this was a dream, pulling up his blindfold to look at you. It had been a good few weeks since you'd approached him, approached anyone for that matter.

"Y/n! My beloved student, it's been so long." He grinned, standing up and running to you comically. You didn't move, letting Gojo wrap his arms around you, forehead against his chest. You didn't hug back either, however.

"Ah, I know this is sudden, but could you do me a favour?" You asked, bashfully.

"Of course! Now, what does my lovely, precious, adorable student need?" Gojo used his animatedness to hide his concern and relief.

"Can- can you go out with me?"

Gojo paused, eyes widening as he pretended to blush, fiddling with his hands and swaying like a school girl.

"B- but, you're my student, that- that isn't allowed." He said shyly, batting his eyelashes at you.

"Not like that! I just want to go to a store." You huffed in annoyance.

This was how you found yourself walking through the crowded streets with Gojo, in search of what you were looking for.

"What are we looking for anyways?" He asked. Although you hadn't noticed, Gojo had been using his cursed technique nonstop since you left Jujutsu Tech. He refused to take any chances.

"You'll see." You sighed. It was winter. The air was cold, and your face was practically buried in your scarf, hands stuffed into your pockets. You hadn't worn your uniform in a long time, settling on sweatshirts or one specific hoodie Yukio had leant you that you never got to return.

Gojo watched you, noticing the little changes in your appearance. You had gained confidence and strength, back straight and head high, the jacket you were wearing looking ever so slightly less oversized than it had before. You were always covered from head to toe, your body composition something you often found embarrassing, not to mention hard to explain to normal people.

Watching your back as you walked in front of him, Gojo really noticed how things had changed. You had never previously walked in front, always settling for standing back and walking in silence next to Megumi.

You were an awkward but energetic kid. Always smiling, always happy, watching out for the group, making sure no one was left behind. You had reminded him of a girl he once knew, one he had failed to protect. And a cheerful boy who used to hang out around Nanami.

Now, however, you reminded him of someone else. Someone who had meant the world to him. His one and only best friend. And he refused to let you walk down the same path as him.

Your eyes lit up when you noticed the shop you were looking for, stopping in front of it. You looked at Gojo for a second, handing him your bag.

"Please wait outside with this, sensei." You said. And with how bright your teal eyes were in that moment, Gojo couldn't say no.

When you left the store, you had a plastic bag, the contents still concealed. You led Gojo across the street, to the park, letting him watch you in curiosity as you began opening the box inside the packet, assembling whatever was inside.

You had your back facing him, feeling embarrassed as you rushed to put what you had bought together. It was going to snow soon, and you had to be quick.

"Sensei! Y/n!" Gojo turned at the voices, eyes widening when he saw his other students returning from a mission.

You finished just in time, holding up your brand new camera and taking a picture of the moment Gojo noticed them. Capturing their smiles and excitement in the first snow.

Although Gojo and the others hadn't realised it, you had built up your resolve. Your fear of forgetting everyone had built up, and now you had found your solution. Even if you did forget their faces, you would never forget the way they made you feel.

Not even a year later, however, Gojo could only question what was going through your mind. Your room was empty and clean. Bed made neatly. And in the centre, was the only part of you they had left, your camera. The memory card was still in it, full of photos of everyone and everything from your team to Shoko and Nanami. Photos of everyone's birthdays, of a cat you had seen that reminded you of Gojo, of Nobara's favorite crepes, Megumi's demon dog, Yuji's disgusted face after he had eaten one of Sukuna's fingers. And a note on a piece of white paper was on top of it, with only the words: Thank you.

[drsonnet]

"Today, in this upside-down world, we feverishly await the final vote in the U.N. General Assembly on the genocide in Srebrenica, while Gaza has been destroyed, and its people starved and denied water." (Illustration by Erhan Yalvaç)

Of villains, heroes and the final act

Of villains, heroes and the final act | Opinion (archive.org)

BY FARHAN MUJAHID CHAK - MAY 14, 2024

A UNGA resolution condemning the Srebrenica genocide is developed by countries like Germany and the U.S., despite their complicity in the ongoing genocide in Gaza by supporting Israel

Ino longer believe in fairy tales, although I once did.

Raised with ideals of sacredness in life, I was taught to honor the sanctity of humanity, to champion international law, and to cherish freedom of speech as the cornerstone of societal progress. I believe the Geneva Conventions were a manifestation of our collective conscience that mandated the rules of war and held nations to account. Women and children; hospitals and schools; the elderly and infirm were inviolable. I was taught that "peaceful protest" was the quintessential liberty of a sophisticated society that understood the relationship between civic activism, social change and progress. I listened, attentively, to the lofty rhetoric and was enthralled. I would utter high-sounding words on democracy, equality and freedom, and those grand glutinous words stuck to my teeth. I was – in a way, smitten.

Head-over-heels over values that deeply resonated in me, yet I slowly became disillusioned. It became evident those hollow words were never meant to be believed, only used to establish authority and reproach others with their inhumanity. Justice was not blind, and race, color and creed mattered in the application of the law. It is in this troubled context that the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) will vote on whether to declare July 11 "The International Day of Reflection and Remembrance of the 1995 Srebrenica Genocide." The complex intersection of the ongoing genocide in Palestine, the war on students and free speech on university campuses across the United States, Canada and Europe, and the former genocide in Srebrenica deserves closer scrutiny. The U.N. vote on the Bosnian genocide could not come at a more condemnable moment in world history.

On May 1, after considerable delay, a draft U.N. resolution on the Srebrenica genocide was submitted to the president of the 193-member U.N. General Assembly. Recall that in 1995, the town of Srebrenica was a U.N.-declared safe zone promised protection by a U.N. Dutch force. Dozens of able-bodied Muslim men in the town were asked to disarm, which they did. Despite that, fanatical Serb forces overran the safe zone and murdered 8,372 Muslim men and boys. Such is the perverse reality of the world we live in, that a U.N.-mandated safe haven, supposedly protected by U.N. forces, was invaded by terrorist Serb forces and a genocide ensued under their watch.

Bizarre irony

Now, a UNGA resolution on the Srebrenica genocide, partially modeled on a similar resolution for Rwanda, has been developed by several countries including Germany and the U.S. Absurdly, both are collaborators in the genocide currently underway in Gaza by direct military, economic and diplomatic support for Israel. This is the bizarre irony of being complicit in an ongoing genocide and putting forth a U.N. Resolution condemning the same.

What is the point of passing a resolution on genocide and turning a blind eye to one going on for the whole world to see? Sadly, villains need masks and no better cover than virtue. It is politics, not ethics, that is driving the U.N. Srebrenica vote. Of course, this does not diminish the necessity of it or the need to condemn the Srebrenica genocide and its denial. Still, the larger macro-level betrayal of the Geneva Conventions and International Human Rights Law by the U.S., U.K. and Germany is an indictment of the Western-led global order.

It is that outright duplicity, the sheer savagery of the genocide in Palestine, and the silencing of dissent that has provoked a whole generation of young people on campuses throughout the West. After all, they, too, were told stories about diversity, inclusion and pluralism. They were taught to condemn discrimination based on ethnicity, religion or gender. About equality before the law and the inviolability of non-combatants. They were raised to feel empowered and encouraged to peacefully organize and express their opinions. And, that society benefits when individuals exercise their civic duty. Now, they are witness to the flagrant disavowal of the moral archetypes that were instilled in them. They feel duped and are protesting, as heroes do, the enabling of genocide by their universities. Idealistic and courageous, they are sacrificing their education and careers to condemn the genocide in Palestine. Except rather than being celebrated, thousands of students have been beaten, harassed and arrested. Condemned for believing in the values that they were taught.

Now, we seem to be in the final act. One of impunity – if you will, in which we close our eyes to the genocide in Palestine, condemn students who protest it, and negotiate ways to commemorate a past genocide in Srebrenica – when ignoring it while it happened. Today, in this upside-down world, we feverishly await the final vote in the UNGA on the genocide in Srebrenica, while Gaza has been destroyed, and its people starved and denied water.

Yet, no matter the outcome of the resolution, it will not stop future genocides. Still, if nothing else, it will forever be a testament to the twisted dystopian reality in which we live and be a symbol of the urgent need for a new world order. Maybe, one faraway day, we can muster the will – for whatever purpose, and pass a U.N. resolution condemning it. Or name a highway after the martyrs. We will tell noble stories about those who were killed since it seems our twisted world only after their death feigns to honor them.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Professor of International Affairs, Visiting Research Faculty at Al Waleed Center for Muslim Christian Understanding at Georgetown University

[infiniteglitterfall]

"...All of the punditry about diversity and free speech and criticism of Israel has extravagantly missed the point.

"The problem was not that Jewish students on American university campuses didn’t want free speech, or that they didn’t want to hear criticism of Israel."

(The problem is also not that Jewish students didn't support Palestinians or want a free independent Palestinian state. One of the biggest problems, in fact, is that the pro-Palestinian movement consistently implies that the only way to support Palestine is by calling for the destruction of Israel.

While activists in Gaza protest Hamas, activists outside of it follow Hamas's lead: framing this as a battle between all Palestinians and the existence of Israel.

This has effectively excluded activists in Palestine from the movement to support them. Which is a neat trick. /s)

"Instead, they didn’t want people vandalizing Jewish student organizations’ buildings, or breaking or urinating on the buildings’ windows.

"They didn’t want people tearing their mezuzahs down from their dorm-room doors.

They didn’t want their college instructors spouting anti-Semitic lies and humiliating them in class.

They didn’t want their posters defaced with Hitler caricatures, or their dorm windows plastered with Fuck Jews.

They didn’t want people punching them in the face, or beating them with a stick, or threatening them with death for being Jewish.

"At world-class American colleges and universities, all of this happened and more."

(I've added links to each of these examples. I couldn't find an incident of "fuck Jews" plastered all over dorm windows, but I did find it written on a chalkboard, left in a note by someone robbing a Jewish student, and graffitied in a music building bathroom.

That last one was at UCLA, where there was also an incident in which Students for Justice in Palestine held a public beating of a Netanyahu piñata while an organizer with a bullhorn led everyone in a chant of "beat that fucking Jew!")

"I was not merely an observer of this spectacle. I’d been serving on now–former Harvard President Claudine Gay’s anti-Semitism advisory committee, convened after the October 7 Hamas massacre in Israel and amid student responses to it.

"I was asked to participate because I am a Harvard alumna who wrote a book about anti-Semitism called People Love Dead Jews.

"As soon as my participation became public, I was inundated with messages from Jewish students seeking help. They approached me with their stories after having already tried many other avenues—bewildered not only by what they’d experienced, but also by how many people dismissed or denied those experiences."

Dara Horn says "the foundational big lie," in one version after another throughout the centuries, has been "that anti-Semitism itself is a righteous act of resistance against evil, because Jews are collectively evil and have no right to exist."

"In 2013, David Nirenberg published an astonishing book titled Anti-Judaism.

"Nirenberg’s argument, rigorously laid out in nearly 500 pages of dense scholarship and more than 100 pages of footnotes, is that Western cultures—including ancient civilizations, Christianity, Islam (which Nirenberg considers Western in its relationship with Judaism), and post-religious societies—have often defined themselves through their opposition to what they consider 'Judaism.' This has little to do with actual Judaism, and a lot to do with whatever evil these non-Jewish cultures aspire to overcome.

"Nirenberg is a diligent historian who resists generalizations and avoids connecting the past to contemporary events. But when one reads through his carefully assembled record of 23 centuries’ worth of intellectual leaders articulating their societies’ ideals by loudly rejecting whatever they consider 'Jewish,' this deep neural groove in Western thought becomes difficult to dismiss, its patterns unmistakable.

"If piety was a given society’s ideal, Jews were impious blasphemers; if secularism was the ideal, Jews were backward pietists.

"If capitalism was evil, Jews were capitalists; if communism was evil, Jews were communists.

"If nationalism was glorified, Jews were rootless cosmopolitans; if nationalism was vilified, Jews were chauvinistic nationalists. 'Anti-Judaism' thus becomes a righteous fight to promote justice."

(This second piece is a rip-off of Brazilian artist Carlos Latuff's 2008 comic celebrating a Communist event in Brazil.

It's also a particularly excellent example of how both "Jews are capitalists" and "Jews are communists" represent the core antisemitic trope of "Jews morally corrupt society.")

"This dynamic forces Jews into the defensive mode of constantly proving they are not evil, and even simply that they have a right to exist."

Dara Horn's piece has some super-fun examples.

"Around 38 C.E., after rioters in Alexandria destroyed hundreds of Jewish homes and burned Jews alive, the Jewish Alexandrian intellectual Philo and the non-Jewish Alexandrian intellectual Apion both sailed to Rome for a 'debate' before Emperor Caligula about whether Jews deserved citizenship.

"Apion believed that Jews held an annual ritual in which they kidnapped a non-Jew, fattened him up, and ate him. Caligula delayed Philo’s rebuttal for five months, and then listened to him only while consulting with designers on palace decor.

"Alexandrian Jews lost their citizenship rights, though it took until 66 C.E. for 50,000 more of them to be slaughtered.

"In medieval Europe, Jews were forced into disputations with Christian priests that placed Jewish texts and traditions on public trial, resulting in Jewish books being burned and Jewish disputants exiled. Later legal trials expanded on this concept, requiring Jews to defend themselves against the absurd charge known as the blood libel, in which Jews are accused of murdering and consuming non-Jewish children—a claim that has echoes in current lies about Israelis harvesting Palestinians’ organs."

fucking exhausting is what it is

I want to share more of this essay, and talk about it more. But this is more than enough for right now. This is way more than enough.