#Top Boarding School with Scholarship

[advluv4life]

I'm really confused on Dae's scholarship because usually a scholarship pays for classes, not room and board- but he said his scholarship covers his room and board not his classes 'cause he had to have tuition paid for before classes started but he lost his room and board when he didn't get first in class... So, what exactly is his scholarship and how does it actually work?

How can he be required to be first in class to have a scholarship that won't even pay for his classes?

[realnielsbohr]

i hate being stressed about like. things that are actually stressful. normally i could be like "all is well 😌it will be ok no matter what" or whatever but i genuinely cant do that here. if i dont get this sorted out im genuinely fucked

[amazingspidermans]

GUESS WHO IS GOING TO COLLEGE FOR FOUR YEARS COMPLETELY FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[wekillitwithfire]

good morning ^^

[finelinefae]

the game [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's desperate to play tennis and who better to coach her than her rival

word count: 6.7k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, jealous h, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals

a/n: this is the very first part of a new series that i am soooooo beyond excited to be writing !! it will most likely have 4/5 parts <333 enjoy !!!

. . .

Crestwood Academy was a prestigious boarding school with a mission to cultivate excellence in its students, many of whom went on to achieve great success in their respective fields. Nestled amidst rolling hills and lush greenery, it welcomed only the most accomplished families into its esteemed halls.

Y/N had attended Crestwood Academy since she was five, thanks to her father, who owned a country club and could afford the tuition. Her parents, strict and focused on success, were determined to give her the best education possible so that she could be the very best. Her face was always buried in a book or spending her days in the library, right up until the very last minute of its opening hours. 

It was her final year at Crestwood Academy before graduation. Y/N had been set on passing all of her exams at the top of her class so had been working extra hard. She studied English, maths, all three sciences, Latin, French and History as well as tennis. 

Y/N's parents had always urged her to pursue a career in the top industries. Despite her efforts to feign interest in that direction, her heart had always belonged to tennis ever since she first took up the sport at Crestwood.

She had competed plenty, winning all the academy trophies and medals. Her parents would visit whenever she competed in finals and congratulated her on winning but saw it as nothing but a hobby to participate in when she wasn’t studying. 

However, Y/N couldn’t deny herself the rush of playing knowing she’d have to part with the sport once she graduated. The career path of becoming a doctor was already laid out for her by her parents but she felt destined to follow a different path. 

Despite the fact she had applied to dozens of schools to study medicine, she still had one more option that had nothing to do with science at all. 

Every year, the academies hosted their own version of a grand slam in which the winning player received a scholarship and three years' worth of training from one of the top tennis academies in the world. Y/N longed to be at the top with the greats and she knew that this competition was the only way she could get there. 

For the most part, Y/N had been self-taught. She watched videos online and took notes from the Wimbledon matches she’d see on the television. Crestwood only had one sports coach who focused most of their time on the football team so if she was going to win the scholarship, she needed the very best. 

She sat on the bleachers, her book open in front of her, but her attention was drawn to the man on the court. The player’s movements were fluid and powerful, each action deliberate and precise. Yet, it was another man who held her gaze—a figure with an impassive expression, focused solely on his player.

When the match was over, Y/N slammed her book shut and walked towards the court after the players shook hands. Her eyes looked down at the limp in his step as he walked towards the cooler to grab a water bottle. 

It had been a while since she had last seen him. She remembered the proud look on his parent’s faces when he was pulled out of Crestwood eighteen months ago and went on to win a grand slam in Australia. She could still feel the intense jealousy that filled her as she watched the match on television whilst studying for her chemistry test that he was also supposed to sit had he stayed. 

Now he was here, back to his roots and maybe it had been fate because what she was about to ask him would determine her own path in the tennis career she longed for. 

His hair was slightly longer now, his brunette, touseled curls were swept to the side in a loose, dishevelled manner. He wore sunglasses to cover his eyes from the sunlight and a navy tracksuit paired with white vans. 

Seeing him brought back the once competitive emotions she had whenever she’d see him strut about the courts every lunchtime but she’d have to suppress those emotions, especially for what she was about to ask him. 

“Excuse me, Harry?” Y/N called out. 

He took a water bottle from the cooler and flicked off the cap before holding it to his lips and gulping it down. Y/N waited, crossing her arms as she did. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up.” Was the first thing he said. 

Y/N didn’t know what to say. It was unexpected to know that he had been waiting to see her, “I didn’t know you were part of the furniture on these courts,” He smirks and Y/N’s jaw ticks. “And you still sit in the exact same spot on those bleachers, to what? Admire me?”

Y/N bristled at Harry's cocky remark, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "Hardly," she retorted, her tone sharp. "I have better things to do than waste my time watching you play."

Harry chuckled, his smirk widening as he leaned against the cooler. "Is that so? Then what brings you here?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Come to get an autograph?”

Y/N squared her shoulders, determined not to let his arrogance get under her skin. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about something," she replied, her voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Oh? And what might that be?" he inquired, his gaze piercing as he studied her intently.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N gathered her courage and suppressed her pride, "I want you to coach me," she blurted out, her words hanging in the air between them. 

Harry made no effort to hide the surprise on his face but it quickly melted into a cocky smirk, “You want me to coach you? I thought you hated me?” 

“I do,” She replies quickly. She’d hated him ever since he had humiliated her in a battle of the sexes tennis tournament when they were young despite the fact she had little chance of winning against him anyway. “But I don’t have to like you to recognise your talent and right now you're the best and only coach I can get if I’m going to win that scholarship,”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Your parents still want you to study medicine?” Something flickered in his eyes that Y/N couldn’t put her finger on. 

Y/N wasn’t going to give him an answer even though it was obvious, “This is the only chance I get to escape it,” She mutters, “I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

He glanced around before taking a step forward. She was tempted to step back at the same time but she didn’t want to seem intimidated by him so stood her ground. From this proximity, she noticed how much taller he was compared to her - almost an entire foot. 

“What’s in it for me?” He asked.

Y/N knew he’d ask which was why she spent so much time figuring out what she could tell him to make it worthwhile. “I know about your injury,” She says and he stills.

“Everyone knows about my injury.” He grumbles. 

It had been a spectacle in the world of tennis. The new grand slam winner loses out on his second after a fatal injury at the French Open. Y/N remembered seeing him rolling on the ground, holding onto his leg as paramedics ran onto the court to aid him. 

“People think you’re a one-hit wonder since you’re out for the season,” His jaw clenched as she spoke, “But if you coach me and get me to win, I guarantee you’ll be out on the court again - back where you belong,”

“You think an academy league game can get my back onto the court?”

“No, but it's a start and maybe I’ll be competing alongside you the next time you’re playing.” 

There was a moment of silence as Harry absorbed her words, his gaze searching hers for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, he let out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Fine," he relented, his voice tinged with resignation. "You want me to coach you? Prove you’re worth coaching.” 

He walked over to the barrel of tennis rackets and picked one up. Y/N narrowed her eyes, remembering the last time they had played against each other and how embarrassed she was afterwards. 

“But you’re-”

“One game won’t hurt,” He said before she could finish. 

She followed, her steps purposeful as she reached for a racket, flipping it over in her hands as she strode to the other end of the court. Despite being clad in her school uniform—a pleated skirt, white shirt with the school crest, and loafers that threatened to slide off her feet—she was determined to prove herself. She'd show him she was worth his time, that she was a far better tennis player than he gave her credit for.

As they took their positions on opposite ends of the court, the tension between them crackled in the air. Y/N gripped her racket tightly, her focus sharp as she prepared to face off against Harry once again.

The first serve sliced through the air, the sound echoing as the ball hurtled towards Y/N. She moved with fluidly, her muscles tensing as she returned the serve.

Harry's response was swift, his movements confident as he returned the ball with a well-placed shot that left Y/N scrambling to keep up. Even with his injury, he still held the precision of a professional. But she refused to back down, her determination driving her to match him shot for shot, rally after rally.

The game intensified as they traded blows, each point reflecting their skills and determination. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she fought to keep pace with Harry, her mind focused solely on the ball. Both Y/N and Harry vocally exerted their energy through grunts and cries as they hit the ball with all their energy. 

Despite her efforts, Harry seemed to anticipate her every move. But Y/N refused to be outdone, drawing on every ounce of strength and skill as she fought to gain the upper hand.

As the game progressed, Harry's skill and experience began to overthrow her. His shots were close to perfect and strategic, leaving Y/N struggling to keep up. Despite her determination, she found herself falling behind as Harry continued to dominate the match.

In the end, it was Harry who emerged victorious, his final shot landing just beyond Y/N's reach with a satisfying thud. As the ball bounced out of the court, Y/N knew that she had been outplayed.

She rested her hands on her knees, hunched over as she tried to regain her breath. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she’d lost despite the fact she was at a disadvantage anyway. 

Harry’s shadow fell over her but she refused to look up just yet. He spoke anyway, “You’ve gotten better since the last time I saw you,” He spoke, holding a cold water bottle in front of her face. 

She took it, the plastic crackling under her fingers, “You can just say you’re not going to do it,” She mumbled, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of water. 

“I’ll coach you,” He says, “Meet me here at 6 pm tomorrow.” 

Y/N finally looked up, her mouth parted, only to find his back facing her as he walked away from the courts. 

. . . 

Harry had no idea what he had agreed to in coaching Y/N at tennis. 

He sat in his luxurious apartment ten minutes away from Crestwood Academy, surrounded by furniture wrapped in plastic or still in cardboard boxes. 

He sat on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him and a glass of whiskey in his hand. The TV was playing quietly in front of him but his mind was on the girl he had spent the majority of his life competing with. 

She had grown since the last time he had seen her before he graduated and left the country to compete in the Australian Open. Her long, tanned legs were on show beneath the grey school skirt she had been wearing. He couldn’t seem to get the image of the visible muscles in her calves out of his mind as she moved across the court to hit the ball during their impromptu tennis match. 

Despite their personal differences, Harry couldn't resist her. There was an undeniable thrill in riling her up, in watching her reactions to the smallest digs. They had once been friends, back when Y/N would trail after him on the playground, eager to understand how to hit a ball with a tennis racket. But as she began competing in school competitions, she quickly learned that beating him was an impossible feat. 

He wasn’t surprised to see her watching him on the court today, in fact, it amused him. Whether she liked it or not, he would always look out in the bleachers for her whenever he’d play during his time at the academy. Her reactions were what kept him going, some might even say made him better. 

But, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was surprised to see her so brazenly asking him to coach her. He could tell by her reaction that it was killing her inside, to be coached by him when all she’d done was pick apart his technique, but it was clear she was desperate and Harry knew it was because of her parents. 

Harry had had his fair dose of strict parentage. When he was told he could no longer play tennis for the season, his parents shipped him straight back to Crestwood to finish his final year since he never actually graduated. 

He loathed them for it, barely saying a word to them as they paid the rent in cash for his apartment and left him with boxes to unpack on his own. He knew they were disappointed in him despite the fact the injury was no fault of his own, they could barely look at him as they left, closing the door behind them. 

It was embarrassing. How could he have gone from being at the top of his game to the very bottom? Now he was back in the place he had turned his back on, feeling like he was back to square one all over again. 

Harry’s thoughts were broken by the sound of his phone ringing. The name of his best friend since he was born lit up the screen.

“What?” Harry answered the call, his train of thought forming a particular level of intolerance in him.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your best friend?” Mitch replied along with the sound of loud chattering in the background because he always had to be somewhere with someone. 

“Sorry,” Harry huffed, “Long day.”

“Already? You’ve not even started classes yet,” Mitch chuckled.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry hadn’t even begun thinking about being back in classrooms and having to put up with kids his age berating him with questions he didn’t want to answer. Tomorrow would be his first day back and he was dreading it.

“C’mon now, don’t be too glum about it, haven’t you missed me?” 

“No,” Harry lied. 

“I know you well enough now to know when you’re lying.” Mitch laughed down the phone. 

A hint of a smile grazed Harry’s lips, "Whatever," he replied, his tone gruff but lacking conviction. Despite his attempt to feign disinterest, a part of him couldn't deny the truth in Mitch's words. There had been many moments he had experienced after leaving school when he missed the company of people his own age. Everyone around him was older than he was and spoke to him as though he was some prized trophy that needed to be handled with caution. He’d spend evenings by the pool by himself, watching the sunset and wishing his friends were there to celebrate his win with him. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Mitch teased, “I know the boys will be happy to have y’ back and I can introduce you to Sarah. I think Molly Brown still has a thing for you as well by the way, talks about you all the fuckin’ time.” Harry listened to his friend ramble about all the things he had missed in the last year or so but his mind seemed to travel elsewhere. 

His eyes wandered around the room, his ear still pressed to his phone, until they landed on an open box with a picture frame resting on top. He recognized the photo immediately, even without picking it up, because he had kept it hidden in his old dorm desk. In the picture, a group of eight students—four boys and four girls—smiled at the camera, with Harry standing at the back and Y/N right beside him.

. . . 

Y/N slammed the door of her locker shut after pulling out her workbooks for her next class. Students bustled down the hallways of Crestwood Academy, wearing their navy blazers and uniform for another week of school. 

“Have you seen him yet?” Sarah, Y/N’s best friend, came out of nowhere and stood in front of her. 

“Seen who?” Y/N remained indifferent even though she knew who Sarah was referring to. 

Everyone had been talking about Harry since she had walked into school from her dorm room this morning. It was the main topic of conversation, everyone’s eyes darting around the hallways to try and find him. 

“You know,” Sarah nudged her, “The boy you’ve spent most of your life in a one-sided rivalry with?” 

“One-sided? It’s a mutual hatred,” Y/N argued.

Sarah gave her a look before continuing, “I texted Mitch twenty minutes ago but he hasn’t replied. I know I’ve met Harry before but this is the first time I’ll be meeting him as Mitch’s girlfriend and I don’t want it to change anything.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Sarah, just because he’s the winner of a grand slam doesn’t make his opinion of you any more important. Whether Harry likes you or not, everyone knows you and Mitch are perfect for each other.”

Y/N remembered the first time her friend had told her she was seeing Mitch. He had taken her out to dinner a few times and Sarah had come back to their shared dorm swooning and unable to stop herself from rambling the rest of the night about how romantic and funny he was. 

Y/N had never experienced anything like that in her life, too busy focusing on tennis and academia to find herself in relationships, but she was happy her best friend was happy and that was all that mattered to her. 

“I know but he’s important to Mitch. They’ve been best friends since infants and… that’s not all I’m worried about,” Sarah looked at Y/N pointedly. 

“What?” 

“Now that Mitch and I are together, that means we’ll be spending more time around each other which also means…” Sarah didn’t have to finish her sentence for Y/N to understand what she was trying to get at. 

“Oh n-no! No way! Sarah, are you being serious right now?” Y/N whined, “You want me to get along with Harry just because you’re dating his best friend?”

“You don’t have to but it would be nice if you did,” Her voice trailed off at the end, her eyes looking at her pleadingly, “I’m not asking you to be best friends, I’m just asking you not to chew his head off when we’re all in the same room together.”

Y/N wanted to argue and tell her she wouldn’t be able to chew his head off anyway because she needed him to coach her for the scholarship but an arm slid around Sarah’s waist and interrupted their conversation. 

Sarah grinned, turning to look up at her boyfriend who was now standing beside her, “Hey babe,” Mitch smiled.

“You’re here,” Sarah craned her neck to kiss his lips, “I texted you forever ago and you never replied.

Mitch scoffed, “It was twenty minutes ago and I didn’t have time to check my phone, too busy dragging this one through the front gates.”

Out of the corner of Y/N's eye, another figure appeared. She didn’t have to look to see who it was, the sudden surge of annoyance within her already gave them away. Her head tilted to the left to look up and see Harry. 

He was wearing his school uniform, the same way he always did before he left for Australia. His shirt was untucked, and the top button was undone revealing a gold chain and a white vest underneath, his grey trousers were ironed with not a crinkle in sight and his navy blazer hung casually behind him, hooked by his middle finger.

Y/N’s eyes shifted behind him to find people whispering to each other and groups of girls giggling as they walked past. It was nothing new to see girls getting riled up over him but it had become more intensified now that he had gone abroad and made a name for himself. Despite his injury preventing him from playing, Y/N was certain that even if Harry had lost every game and embarrassed himself on live television, people would still adore him.

“Hey Harry,” Sarah offered a kind smile.

“Hi Sarah, nice to see you again. Glad to know Mitch was in good hands whilst I was away,” Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder before turning to Y/N.

“Only the very best,” Mitch pulled Sarah into his side before motioning to Y/N, “You remember Sarah’s best friend Y/N right?”

“Hmmm, aren’t you the one who lost the Junior tennis competition to me a few years ago?” Harry smirked.

Y/N's jaw clenched, but she managed to force a smile. "I could be, but aren’t you the one who they recorded rolling around on the floor like a big baby at the French Open last year?" Her retort was sharp, aimed directly at Harry.

Harry's eyes narrowed in response, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. Y/N felt a sense of satisfaction at having gotten such a reaction from him. "Welcome back to Crestwood," she added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Mitch and Sarah exchanged weary glances, sensing the tension between Y/N and Harry.

"Quite a welcome. I’ve already been asked to coach someone and I’ve only been back a week," Harry remarked, his gaze still fixed on Y/N, who met his stare with a glare of her own.

"You have?" Mitch frowned, his confusion evident.

"Who?" Sarah asked, equally perplexed.

Harry's eyes remained locked on Y/N, giving them their answer. "You asked him to coach you?" Sarah questioned her confusion mirroring Mitch's.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, "Yeah, I did," she admitted reluctantly, her gaze flickering briefly to Harry before returning to Mitch and Sarah.

"Why would you ask him to coach you?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowing in confusion, “You argue all the time,” 

Y/N hesitated, “I need to win the scholarship to the tennis academy in London and Harry’s the only person here who knows how to play the game.” 

“Glad to know I was the pick of the bunch,” Harry’s voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“I thought you were applying to go to UCL?” Sarah frowned. 

“I was but you know how much the game means to me and my parents refuse to believe it’s more than just a hobby. This is the only chance I’ll get to prove them wrong and the only option to get me out of studying medicine.” Y/N explained. 

Sarah’s eyes softened, she too was no stranger to how strict Y/N’s parents could be. “Which is why she needs me,” Y/N felt the weight of his arm rest across her shoulders, “Right, love?” 

Y/N spun around to face Harry, eyes sharp, “Don’t call me that,” She hissed, seeing the satisfied grin on his face. 

He shrugged, “But I always call you that,” 

Ever since they were teenagers, when the rivalry first began, Harry had opted to calling Y/N ‘love’ knowing how much it riled her up. To some, it was a term of endearment but in the world of tennis the word ‘love’ meant one thing. 

‘Nil, ‘Zero’, ‘Loser’. 

Y/N hated the way he spoke it too - accentuating each letter of the word to drag it out for as long as he could just to annoy her further. 

She stepped forward, “Call me that one more time,” She threatened.

“Or what?” He tilted his head to the side. 

“Guys seriously, break it up,” Sarah intervened, “Aren’t you supposed to be getting along if you’re going to be spending more time together.”

Y/N hated the thought of it but knew she was right. If she wanted Harry to coach her, she couldn’t go around screwing things up by arguing with him. If he was going to coach her at the sport, she’d have to coach herself in controlling her attitude around him. 

“C’mon Sarah, let’s go to class,” Y/N hooked arms with her best friend, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. 

“Oh okay, bye Mitch.” Sarah kissed her boyfriend before she was dragged down the hallway in a hurry.

Harry watched as Y/N practically sprinted down the hallway with Sarah in tow. He felt the need to call out of her for one last dig just so she would turn around and he’d see her face before she rounded the corner, “See you on the courts, love.” He called down to her. 

As he had hoped, Y/N’s head whipped around to glare at him along with her middle finger, “Asshole!” She called back.

Harry chuckled to himself, “That face,” he murmured. 

Mitch placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “You’ve got it in for yourself with that one, lad.” Mitch said.

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied, his eyes still on the place he’d last seen Y/N. 

Maybe returning to Crestwood wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

. . . 

With Harry back, Y/N had suspected the day would be a drag with everyone constantly bringing him up in every conversation, but the first half of the day had gone well. Y/N was easily used to her classes by now and was still top of the class in all of them. 

During lunch period, Y/N always sat with Sarah in the library where they’d catch up on what they missed out on each other’s lives or study during exam season. It was nice to have some reprieve during the school hours and whenever she was with Sarah, Y/N could talk for hours and hours.

Now that Sarah was dating Mitch, Y/N and Sarah would spend their lunch with his friends in the lunch hall. Y/N didn’t mind it so much having grown used to being around Mitch’s friends despite their loud and boisterous personalities. 

However, today she was dreading the fact that now her lunchtimes would also include being around the person she wanted to spend as little amount of time with as possible. 

“Can’t we just eat in the library today? Please?” Y/N pulled on the sleeve of her best friend's blazer as she begged her to turn back in the direction of the library. She could already picture Harry’s annoying smirk the closer they got to the entrance of the lunch hall.

“Y/N you’re being dramatic. It’s just an hour, I’m sure you can survive being around him that long.” Sarah continued to tug her down the hallway.

“Sarah I already have to spend enough time as it is,” Now that she asked him to be her coach. The more the day went by the more she was starting to regret her decision. 

Sarah spun on her heel, “Think of this as practice then,” Her eyes looked past Y/N’s shoulder, “Look, there they are,” She moved past her and beelined towards their table where Y/N saw Mitch, Jake and Adam already sitting along with that head of brunette curls that Y/N just wanted to tear out every time she saw him. 

Sighing, she followed Sarah and approached the table responding to everyone’s friendly greetings until she got to Harry, “You’re in my seat,” She spoke after realising all the seats were taken. 

Harry didn’t bother to look around, that stupid grin plastered to his face when he looked up at her, “Am I?” 

Y/N gritted her teeth, “Yes,”

“Hmm,” He swivelled around to look at the back of the chair, “I don’t see your name anywhere.”

A wave of chuckles rippled around the table but Y/N had yet to find the amusement in it. “She does always sit there, H.” Mitch chuckles, “Just grab another chair from a different table.”

Harry leant back against the seat and crossed one leg over his thigh, “But I quite like this seat.” 

“I’m not moving until you get out of my seat,” Y/N crossed her arms, refusing to give in to him. 

“Well you’re going to be stood up for a long time and y’ need those legs for later,” Harry smirked, “Or you could just sit here,” He unfolded his legs and motioned towards his lap, “Still your seat.” 

Y/N’s jaw clenched but before she could respond, Adam chuckled and stood up, “Here,” He picked another chair up from an empty table and set it down next to him, “Y’ can sit here Y/N.” 

She was tempted to refuse and continue to nag Harry for the rest of lunch but decided against it, not wanting to waste her energy on him. Her eyes softened at Adam’s kindness, “Thanks, Adam.” She sat beside him. 

Harry’s smirk seemed to falter when Y/N sat down, watching as Adam looked at Y/N even as she turned to face the others. 

“Is that Molly Brown looking at y’ again Harry?” Jake, who Y/N considered the loudest one of Mitch’s friends, leant over the table to speak lowly to Harry even though it was impossible for him to ever be so quiet. 

Harry forced himself to look away from Adam before he burnt holes into him. “She’s been after him since fifth year,” Mitch chuckled. 

“Y’ think you’ll let her have it this year, H?” Jake takes a spoonful of his lunch and swallows it down. 

“Have what?” Sarah frowned, confused.

“Nothing you need to know about, babe,” Mitch replies, opening her waterbottle for her after she silently handed it to him. 

“I’ve never been interested in Molly,” Harry quickly replies but his ears prick when he hears Y/N laughing quietly with Adam. 

“Mind if I take my chances then?” Jake asks, “I’ve always wanted to date a cheerleader,” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Harry shakes him off, “What about you Adam?” He gets the attention from both Y/N and Adam as they look up, “Don’t you have a thing for Molly?”

Adam furrows his brows, “Molly Brown? Maybe in like third year,” He chuckles, “I’m not interested in anyone at the moment.”

Harry wants to laugh in his face, “Y’ sure about that?”

Adam frowns but Y/N quickly interrupts them, “People are allowed to have other interests you know.”

Harry feels that rush of excitement when she speaks run through his body, “Is this a touchy subject for you?”

Y/N scowls, “No, I’m just saying Adam doesn’t need to be interested in girl’s all the time.”

“Well maybe Adam can speak for himself,” Harry quips.

“Lord save me,” Jake mumbles and Sarah laughs.

“Well what about you? Have you managed to sink your fangs into anyone?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N gapes, “I’ve dated plenty of people,”

The image unsettles Harry but he takes the opportunity to tease Y/N further. "Plenty of people, huh?" he echoes.

Y/N's cheeks flush slightly,  "I mean... well, not plenty, but a few," she stammers.

But Harry doesn't let up, "Oh, really?" he presses, "Care to share? I'm sure we'd all love to hear about the few men who you’ve tempted."

Y/N shoots him a glare, knowing full well that Harry was onto her. "I... uh, well," she stumbles over her words, searching for a way to change the subject.

But before she can respond, Adam jumps in. "Come on, Harry, give her a break," he glowers. 

“Yeah, Y/N’s just waiting for the right guy and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Sarah pipes in, always one to have her best friend’s back.

Harry raises an eyebrow, his gaze flickering between Y/N and Adam before settling on Y/N, who shifts uncomfortably. Sensing the tension, Mitch swiftly changes the subject to something else.

. . . 

After lunch, Y/N made her way to her next class with Adam walking alongside her. Out of all of Mitch’s friends, she got on the most with Adam to the point where Sarah was constantly pestering her over considering a date with him but Y/N didn’t see him as any more than a good friend.  He was quiet and kept to himself for the most part, excelling in the arts and playing bass guitar in a band on weekends. Y/N enjoyed the calmness he brought to the group especially with the others being so loud all the time. 

“What do you think?” Adam asked, holding the strap of his backpack in one hand as it hung over his right shoulder. 

“What do I think about what?” Y/N frowned. 

“You know, Harry being back. I know you two didn’t always get along,” He explained.

Y/N scoffed, “If it weren’t for the fact he’s coaching me for the Academy Slam, I would be praying to whatever God that’d listen to send him back to Australia,” Which was also the furthest possible country he could be away from her. 

Adam chuckled, “He told us earlier he’d be coaching you,” 

Y/N scowled, “I bet he couldn’t get enough of it,” 

“Actually he seemed pretty happy about it. We haven’t seen him that happy since he got back from Australia.”

“Really? Maybe that injury did something to his head,” 

“What makes you hate him so much anyway?” Adam asked. 

Y/N sighed. It was a question she heard often but never had a solid answer for. She couldn't quite explain why she disliked Harry so much. Maybe it was because he had things she wanted, and jealousy often turned into hatred. But there was something more, something she couldn't quite pin down.

Despite her dislike, Y/N went to all of Harry's matches, and she watched them on TV too. Even when she tried to stay in her room, her legs seemed to move on their own, taking her to the courts to watch him play. She hated that part of her rooted for him, and she couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because Harry had been the first person to teach her how to play and she felt some sense of loyalty to that but she had no perfect answer even though she wished for one. 

“His face annoys me,” Y/N says.

“That’s it?” Adam snickers. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “We’ve always had this rivalry that stemmed out of nowhere but I can’t even remember how it started.”

“You don’t have feelings for him do you?” The question came out of nowhere and took Y/N completely off-guard. 

"What? No!" Y/N's response came out a little too quickly, and she hoped her cheeks hadn't betrayed her by turning red.

Adam shrugged. "Just making sure," he said casually. "You know, some people get them mixed up—love and hate."

Y/N furrowed her brow, genuinely puzzled. "How is that even possible?"

"Well, they're both intense emotions, aren't they?" He mused. "And sometimes, when you feel strongly about someone, whether it's love or hate, it can blur the lines between the two."

Y/N pondered his words, a sense of unease settling in her stomach, "No way," she replied firmly, shaking her head. "I may not like him, but there's definitely no love there."

Adam chuckled, sensing her defensiveness. "Alright, that’s good," he said with a grin.

Y/N felt a hint of a smile on her lips, “What does that mean? That’s good?”

Adam shrugged, still smiling, “Jus’ saying,” He spoke and Y/N laughed. 

Her gaze flicked from Adam's to Harry, who stood in the hallway with Molly Brown, her brunette waves tied up in the perfect, slicked back ponytail. Hoping to slip by unnoticed, she quickened her pace, but it was too late. Harry's eyes locked onto hers, then shifted to Adam. She caught the subtle twitch of his jaw before he pushed off the wall, ignoring Molly, and strode toward them.

Adam must not have noticed Harry coming towards them because he quickly bid goodbye so he could rush to his literature class. Y/N picked up her pace but Harry was already by her side, “Do you like him?” Harry asked.

“Who Adam? Well let’s see, he’s nice and smart and doesn’t feel the need to open his mouth every five seconds unlike some people I know, so yeah I do like him.” 

Harry scoffed, “He’s a little boring don’t you think?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry's comment, a retort already forming on her lips. "Nice of you to say that about your own best friend," she quipped. "Makes me wonder what you say about me."

Before she could say anything more, she gasped in surprise as Harry tugged on her hand and swiftly spun her around until her back was against the row of lockers. Her heart raced as he stepped forward, blocking her in, and dipped his head closer to hers.

"I think we need some ground rules for this whole coaching thing," Harry murmured, his voice low. "If you're planning on winning, I recommend using your time more wisely instead of wasting it on nice boys."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she processed his words. "Is that a rule or are you asking me not to date anyone?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Both," Harry replied, his tone unwavering.

Her mind raced, unsure how to respond, "What about you then?" she countered.

"Is that a personal request?" Harry's smirk widened, his gaze locking onto hers. "Because I'm the coach, and I set the ground rules so anything you ask me to do is because you want me to do it."

Y/N's heart pounded louder in her ears as Harry's proximity sent heat coursing through her, "It's only fair," she replied, her voice barely audible.

Harry chuckled softly. "Fine, if it makes you happy. But I’m not interested in dating nice girls or boys anyway," he remarked with a smirk.

Y/N swallowed, her curiosity piqued. "What are you interested in?" 

He smirked, "The game," he replied cryptically.

With that, he moved away from her, his eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before he turned and walked down the hallway, “See you tonight, love.” He called back. 

As the sound of his footsteps faded, Y/N stood there, stunned and unable to move. She was grateful that no one had witnessed the exchange as she pulled out her compact, trying to compose herself and hide the flush of embarrassment that coloured her cheeks.

As she hurried to class, already five minutes late, Y/N couldn't shake the intensity of her encounter with Harry. Sitting by the window, her mind wandered as the teacher lectured the class, her gaze drifting to the courts outside where she'd soon be training with him this evening.

This coach-student dynamic had unlocked a new territory between them, something unpredictable that Y/N had no choice but to delve into for the months ahead. 

Yet, it was her only choice. Harry was the only way she could win and she’d push through whatever feelings she had to get what she wanted. 

She’d play the game, just as he wanted her to. 

[queenie-avenue]

There's no solution for whatever this was.

💌 ⤻ THE ACADEMIC RIVAL, SEO MIN-JUN

—> when you come crashing into his life, his focus for his studies are lost.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader's race is not mentioned but it does take place in korea, stalking, obsession, slightly suggestive, possessiveness, stealing, damage to personal, slightly suggestive, property, encouraging suicide, mentions of academic stress and korea's expectation for its students, inspired by @moyazaika 's academic rival yandere (go check the fic out, it's amazing), a drabble for now but I will be posting longer fics of him

🦋 ⤻ archives.

In Korea, students are shown to be almost always studying. Many news outlets have covered multiple schools and how much pressure Korean students are going through with their studies. It's difficult, no one can deny it. Yet, some of these students just find it normal, they view studying as perhaps their only form of control they have in their world.

One of those such students is Seo Min-Jun, a student belonging to a prestigious private high school. Someone who is in his final year of high school, soon to graduate and take his university exams. Top of his class, the son to a minister in Korea's government and a rather popular film actress, and the president of the student council. He was destined for success once he graduated.

The moment he crawled out of his mother's womb, his fate was paved for him in gold.

That was, until you — the sweet scholarship student — showed up.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

At first, he didn't understand you. Both of you were literally in your last year of school, but you waltzed in like you owned the place. At least, from his perspective. He thought you bland. After all, you got in from a scholarship. You may be smart, but were you as rich, or was your status in society as high as him? It didn't matter, he still viewed you as below him and didn't pay much attention to you, relegating his secretary in the student council to give you a tour of the elite private school that you should honestly be honoured to step your grimy shoes all over.

Sure, he'd never say these things out to you or anyone else in public. After all, he was still a model student, and he was taught to act humble. Key word: act.

He honestly didn't take an interest in you till he saw your name, above his, on the monthly test evaluations.

"What?" He muttered out, not believing his eyes. In almost every damn subject, you managed to score higher than him. He was almost always one mark off from you. His eyes shot to you, the you who stood there in your crisp and cut uniform on the other side of the crowd, looking up at the papers pressed onto the walls with a look of pride. What was that look of pride for?

Pride, something that existed strongly in almost every culture, and you had just ruined his.

Your life was never the same afterwards.

Letters of hatred piled in your shoe locker. They ranged from being written like some crazed man worshipping your feet like you were a god to someone who wanted to see you hop off the building of your school. The handwriting was typically crazed, but you could recognise whose handwriting it was solely because the both of you were in the same class.

As usual, the school board did nothing to help with that. And when you tried to accuse Min-Jun, the teachers especially scolded you for attempting to defame the student council president.

It got so bad that your things were going missing too, your homework — which the teachers unreasonably scolded you for even if you were user sure you placed it in your bag this morning — and then your notes too. Technically, they did return. They just returned torn up, and some were even burnt with mysterious stains on them.

One day, you couldn't take it anymore after receiving a death threat, and you stormed to the student council office, knowing that if you went to the general office, they'd turn you away again.

You would take matters into your own hands.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

When Min-Jun first saw you enter the room, he was left breathless. Your blushed cheeks from running all the way here, no doubt, the way your uniform crumpled, his mouth was almost drooling. No, no. He refused to let himself lust over you in such a manner that you were a rival, for goodness sake! Not some... potential love interest. Though that thought did pique his interest but he pushed it down with any other thoughts he had about his rival.

"I can't take it anymore." You said, which shocked him. Was someone bullying you? Only he could do that! "I know it's you. I've seen your handwriting on tests before, I just know you're the one who's been planting those notes and stealing my things." You accused your one-sided academic rival.

He didn't bother to defend himself. What was the point? His family would protect him, the school would protect him, and most importantly, the student body would rip them to shreds if they ever tried to act out against him. He knew how cruel students could be. After all, he had seen all the outcasts almost drowned inside toilet bowls by bullies multiple times.

He could not have that. Having you tortured would mean he would not be able to have a proper rival. As much as he disliked you for being in his way, he preferred to keep things... somewhat fair.

"And your proof?" He inquired.

"I have all those notes stored in my bag." You hissed.

For some reason, the thought of you keeping those notes made his heart beat faster. Were you a freak like him too? Did you have such sinful thoughts just like him? You broke his twisted fantasy with your next words, though.

"I don't understand why you're doing this to me. It's- it's," you struggled to find a word for his disturbing actions, "ceaselessly cruel!" You finally exclaimed.

Cruel? What was cruel were your actions, driving him mad, making him lose focus on his work. Who were you to call him cruel when you made him like this?

He got up from his seat and approached you, causing you to fall back, landing on the couch that you swore was not there when the entered the student council room. Taking this chance, he pinned you against the seat, taking in every part of your body, your face, your eyes... everything. God, you were so perfect but so infuriating. Just why did you have to confront him?

"Are you that fucking naive to think that when you present the school with your proof, they'll do anything about it for you? That they'll go against me and my family for the sake of defending the poor scholarship student?" He hissed, grabbing your face harshly as you whimpered. He wished the circumstances of your whimpers were different; in his bed rather than on the couch of the student council office. Still, that did breed intriguing fantasies into his mind. "You think they'll do that for you?" He repeated.

"I-" you started, but you had no idea how to end.

"Exactly." He let go of you, almost smacking your head to the other side as he straightened himself, readjusting the blazer of his uniform.

"You should get used to the circumstances of your situation." He said which only made you shudder. "Let yourself out." He said cooly as he exited the student council room, "I trust you'll keep this meeting a secret." He said with an air of finality before sauntering casually towards the male bathrooms where he promptly slammed the door shut and sat on the toilet seat, practically fuming.

That look on your face, the scrunch of your nose, the furrowing of your eyebrows. You were so unfair! He could practically feel all his blood flush downwards as he thought of you.

Now that you knew he was the culprit, what would you do?

It didn't matter.

He would find ways to pester you and find ways to mark you as someone who could not be touched by anyone else other than him.

"I left another note in your bag. You should look at it. Or else."

[thatbitchery]

& remember the first sign of a loser loser loser loser is hating school. Yall should've unfollowed me 2023 this year I'm laying it on you as is.

If you're not in some sort of murder level clas enroll right now. & it has to be so hard it feels like a death sentence

Ladies any form of "escape the matrix" and "you don't need school" & whatever school hating content out there is level down programming meant to keep you stuck and weak. School is the closest imitation to real life you get so dropping a class because it's too hard is your sign to tie yourself to your moms basement and never leave because you sure as heaven not making it in corporate, business, friendships, relationships, and, God Forbid, parenting. You Manifest a future as a stone because that's the most you can do with that mentality. Dropping out because you have anxiety is another great sign to move to the Amazon and cosplay a sloth because if you think there are human interactions in the adult world that won't make you feel anxious ahhh baby my baby. You got it so wrong, baby. If you can't focus in a 30 minute lesson just take your dream board & burn it up burn it upp and try your hand at being a house fly you'll have better luck. If you drop a class because you don't like the teacher stay as far away from romantic relationships and friendships and , especially, corporate & entrepreneurship because girly don't we have news for ya. Can't manage your time? And you want to be a CEO? Are you kidding?

School is the closest imitation to real life you get & the better you are at it the better you are at life, the harder your school life is the better your real life will be. & I mean take biochem engineering & aeronautical engineering first year college, get your ass run over by it BUT learn to sit still, to power through, teamwork, study techniques, etc so no one cares about your A [fun fact most A students don't make it] but did you power through it? K then junior year do the thing you actually like.

Not liking school for whatever reason is loser mentality if you couldn't make it past test drive what makes you think you'll make it on the highway. Back in high-school when I told my grandma I'm giving up on my scholarship because I'm getting bullied and tortured and ostracized her response wasn't a hug it was a slipper grandma of color style because do you think that won't happen in your adulthood? You think you run from a problem and it goes away? Go back in and make it tf. Notice how I'm not focused on what grade you get? My friend works at firm (one of the top of the country) that don't employ people with a history of As , it's not about academic excellence, can you get to cheer practise at 6 am and be in class by 7? What makes you think you can be a mom then? "Independent" can you schedule yourself? Manage classes, sports, hobbies, a part-time job, home chores , friendships, and free time? WHAT DO YOU THINK ADULTHOOD IS ABOUT? what makes you think running from that in school (where you have guidance & forced community) will keep you safe? Out here you're all alone sis. And now the government protects you like a treasure that ID days 18 and its up to you to protect yourself. If you can not sit still in a 30 minutes class you don't like what makes you think you're cut out for corporate? Yall ain't never left your moms house and it shows, no one that has been in the real world has that level of delulu.

Pick the damn calculus class & power from an E to a C- so when you're running your business & you meet hard things you dislike you have muscle memory to power through it & bc your business is something you like it's easier. Go to school with the girls that dislike you & find a way out of that so when your mom in law or officemates are being flaky you know what to do, you don't run. Sit through that class with that one homphobic sexist bigoted teacher so when you land a job at your dream firm you don't resign in six days and sabotage shit because you're delulu enough to think your little tantrum matters.

School , especially boarding school, is the closest imitation to real life you get. Power through it, take advantage of the resources & always chase the hardships now that you have people charged with guiding you so you're not 25 unmotivated with no accomplishment despite your A's , barely functional adult feeling like a loser because you let tiktok & escape the matrix bojo creators lie to you. Do you want to be one of those 35 year olds heavy on magical thinking because you didn't learn what your parents literally paid for you to learn under the guise of 'self care'. Don't be dumb dumb.

Success spills over

[innytoes]

The call came in just as he was sticking more photos to his board. He was so close to cracking this case, he just needed a little more evidence. Maybe find a source willing to talk to him. Either willingly or unwittingly, at this point he didn’t even care. He wouldn’t reveal his sources anyway, and if he could just figure out where to find something damning…

“Boldheart,” he said into the phone, attention still mostly on the board. Maybe it needed some string. Or at the very least some of those flames Nimona had drawn and cut out for him to add.

“Mister Boldheart, this is Principal Conroy from Gloreth Elementary School.”

Oh no.

He didn’t quite manage to keep in his sigh.

“What happened this time?” he asked. He refused to say ‘what did she do now’, if only because Nimona usually had a reason for whatever chaos she wrought. Like trying to free the pet gerbil from ‘his stinky, tiny prison’ or punching a kid who made fun of her because ‘you couldn’t even get two normal foster parents, you ended up with two foster dads’.

Of course the school hadn’t done anything about the other kid. He was a legacy at the private school, and he’d ‘just been stating facts, after all’.

“It appears Nimona bit another child.”

Well, that was new.

“What did the other kid do?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a straight answer until he talked to Nimona.

“Mister Boldheart, this school has a zero tolerance policy,” the principal started, and he pulled the phone away from his ear, mouthing along the words mockingly has he got his keys.

Part-way through her little rant, he cut her off. “I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone before she could answer.

Nimona was sitting in what Ballister was coming to think of as ‘her’ chair. The one furthest away from the principal’s door. Her face was like thunder, arms crossed in front of her defensively. But it eased a little when she saw who was picking her up.

As much as he and Ambrosius tried the old Good Cop, Bad Cop routine, Nimona had very quickly learned they were both complete pushovers. And that while Ballister could be stern when it mattered, he wasn’t about to punish her for no reason. He’d always hear her out, and he’d always explain why a rule was a rule and why it shouldn’t be broken. (Or when it could be, under certain circumstances.)

Also, he was fifty per cent more likely than Ambrosius to take her out for ice-cream when she got suspended for no reason, again.

“What happened?” he asked, crouching down in front of them.

“Chad wouldn’t stop trying to poke me,” Nimona said. “I told him to keep his hands to himself or I’d bite him. It’s not my fault he didn’t believe me.”

“I never touched her!” Chad shouted from the other side of the hall. His hand was bandaged rather dramatically all the way down to his elbow. “I even said ‘I’m not touching you!’”

Ah. Ballister knew that game all too well from his own time at Gloreth Elementary. Being the scholarship kid had made him an easy target.  

“Come on,” he said, putting his hand on Nimona’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t you need to talk to the Principal first?” they asked.

He did, but he really didn’t want to. Instead, he looked at the ancient secretary, who’d always had a bit of a soft spot for him when he went to this school. “How long is she suspended?”

“Just the rest of the week,” the secretary answered. It was Wednesday, so not too bad. “The Principal wants to have a serious talk with you, though.”

Ballister knew exactly what talk she wanted to have. It was the same one she’d had when they enrolled Nimona, suggesting that Gloreth Elementary had a rather rigorous curriculum, and perhaps ‘someone like Nimona’ would be better suited for a ‘less demanding environment’.

Another thing he remembered all too well from his own time at this private school.

Never mind that Nimona’s grades were at the top ten per cent of her class. Well, when she remembered to hand in her homework. And it was legible between the drawings of sharks and dragons and who knew what else. But still, it wasn’t the curriculum that was bothering her.

“I’ll send Ambrosius by tomorrow morning, after his shift,” Ballister said. Because suddenly, when The Golden Boy Legacy Kid himself stopped by it was much harder to say no, or that their kid didn’t belong here.

They walked out of the school, Nimona’s fuzzy pink book bag hanging from his good shoulder, her hand clutching the wrist of his prosthetic arm. They were already too far down the hall to hear the Principal call them back, and Ballister knew she was too dignified to run after them.

“Look, I get it,” he said once they were outside, because he really, really did. “But you can’t go around biting people.”

“Why not? He deserved it,” Nimona said, sulkily kicking at a pebble.

“Because you don’t know where his hand’s been, it’s gross.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best argument for not biting people, but it was one that was probably most effective for this particular kid. He and Ambrosius could sit her down and explain why biting people was morally wrong some other time.

Nimona was silent for a moment, before sticking out their tongue and running her own hands over it. “Blergh, you’re right!”

See? Effective parenting.

“How do you feel about milkshakes and a stake out?” he asked.

“A stake out?” The hunched shoulders and frown disappeared, replaced by a bounce and a bright, sharp smile. “Who’re we taking down?”

“Nobody just yet,” he said. “But I could use a sidekick following one of VerdAgra’s employees.”

“Yes, boss!” Nimona cheered, all but throwing herself into the passenger’s seat. “Can I have a chocolate-peanut butter-caramel milkshake?”

“Sure thing,” he said, even though that sounded like a lot. Nimona beamed and rummaged in the dashboard console to find their Stake Out Sunglasses, handing him his own. Because you couldn’t do a stake out without them, of course.

Tonight, he’d have a talk with Ambrosius about how maybe Gloreth Elementary and Gloreth Prep weren’t the best place for Nimona. Not because she couldn’t handle the curriculum, but because the school had no interest in stopping the bullying of anyone they deemed lesser. He didn’t want her to suffer the way he had. Sure, he’d gotten into a great university at the end, but had it really been worth it?

Maybe homeschooling was an option. Or another school. Anywhere that didn’t try to crush his kid’s amazing spirit, natural curiosity, and sense of self.

“Can I tase him if he tries to run?”

“No!”

[writers-potion]

How to pick between two academic rivals in being valedictorian

Academic Rivals - How to Pick the Winner

Rivalry is a juicy piece of character dynamic. Whether it's rivals to lovers, the setup for murder, or underlying tension within school dramatics, academic rivalry pulls the heartstrings of readers by hooking them into the universal desire to excel.

Here are some real-life processes that goes into selecting a valedictorian. Feel free to mix-and-match & alter it to fit the academic setting of your story.

A High Cumulative Grade Point

CGPA (Cumulative Grade Point Average), Honors Classification, WAM (Weighted Average Mark), ECTS (European Credit Transfer and Accumulation System), percentage system...whatever it is, your character will need to have a stellar academic record

Could be relative (e.g. top 2%) or a minimum bar (e.g. Above 95%)

Notable Awards/Scholarships

Those who earn notable awards in a particular field - National Book Awards, Olympiad Trophies, etc. will also be a huge plus

Any professional membership (e.g. Chartered Accountant), certifications are also valued.

Scholarships administered by the school, companies and the government will also be a plus.

Interview with the Faculty

The faculty from the student's college, the year's board of judges, the Dean will conduct round(s) of interviews to assess the candidate's integrity.

Extracurricular Contributions

Students who have participated actively in major school clubs, won awards for the school, took part in professor-led projects, etc. will have the upper hand, especially in the eyes of the faculty.

It helps to have held leadership positions in such clubs.

Other extracurriculars like starting their own business, starting community service projects, etc.

Self/Student Nomination and Voting

In some schools, you may need to self-nominate yourself to be considered for valedictorian.

There will often be a round of nominations, where students get to recommend peers (other than themselves)

Professor Nominations

Professors may nominate students that have showcased their ability to perform highly.

Hope this helps! :) Happy writing

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[kokofromwattpad]

Dearest tutor

Plot: Star student of the Royal Academy has been sent to tutor the only Prince of the Imperial Royal family of Lilabett Corona. They then somehow enrapture the interest of the prince and his elder sister, the Crown Princess.

Cw: Crown princess! Female! Yandere x Tutor! Gn! Reader x prince! Yandere, mentions of torture, mentions of cult(briefly), blood, yandere tendencies.

A/N: Holy fucking shit it's finally out, I'm sososo excited.

Word count: 5.3k

The student stood outside the gate of the Imperial palace with sweat streaking down the side of their face from the harsh blaze of the sun. They had textbooks held under their armpit, tightly to their right side as their left had awkwardly tried to fix the hair that had begun to fall into their sightline.

[Name][Lastname] was an extraordinary person when it came to academics. They excelled in any subject they were put in and always came out on the very top of the board when the exam results had been revealed.

But they were born with common blood flowing through their veins. Their father was a poor baker and their mother was a school teacher for the orphans by the local children's home. Because their mother had always prided herself with the fact that she believed that knowledge was a better virtue than beauty, their mother would make [Name] read and memorise any textbooks she could get her hands on.

While [Name] considered it good luck that they were able to enrol in the royal academy and had gotten a full scholarship, they were petrified when they found a neatly folded envelope on their dorm bed with a wax seal baring the Imperial family's coat of arms.

The summarised version of the letter read that the imperial advisor acknowledged their extreme academic prowess and wanted them to visit the imperial palace to tutor the empire's only prince in the few subjects he had been recently struggling with in his own classes.

Terrified out if their mind, [Name] agreed in the most cursive calligraphy they could muster with their violently shaking hand.

And now, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, the young student will have to spend their afternoon tutoring a bratty prince. Honestly, they were shaking in their boots from the mere thought of having to interact with royalty.

A cough abruptly interrupted the student's thoughts and made them shoot their head up in surprise. A tall man with long midnight black hair stood on the other side of the twisting gate. He looked to be in his late 30s, with a face and aura that screamed 'strict' and 'do not get me mad'. His dark hair was swept up to a waterfall like pony tail at the back of his head. He wore thin lensed glasses that seemed to be nearly falling off the tip of his nose. Hie eyes however were a lovely soft sage colour.

The man placed his right hand above his heart and bowed only his head at the young student. "Good evening mx.[Lastname]. My name is Von Alaric-Holloway. It is the Koinig family's honor to have you tutor your young master." he greeted. His voice was as smooth as his hair. The student nodded at his words. "The honour is all mine Mr.Alaric-Holloway." they said back, not trusting their voice to say anything else without stuttering, or falling over their own words.

Von nodded his head at the guards, giving them the silent order to open the sill closed gates.

The gates swept open as swift as the wind, letting the advisor and the student stand in front of each other face-to-face. Von nodded his head again at the student, signaling them to follow him as he pushed his falling glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He walked gracefully, with both of his hands held tightly behind his back and his head raised high in pride. The student trailed after him, struggling to keep up with his pace.

"The young master is about two years younger than you are, so he is around your age. The empress hopes that you and her grandson will become good friends with each other." Von said in quick voice, not giving [Name] the chance to actually process the words he was saying.

The student nearly nodded their head at his words and kept their head down. Every guard or maid that the pair walked past, bowed their head down, and gave sympathetic looks towards the two. Obviously, [Name] was going to notice by the third or fourth time that they had done this.

"Mr.Alaric-Holloway, why is everyone giving us such pitiful looks?" they asked the him.

Von cocked his eyes towards the sound of [Name]'s question. "I suppose it is because of the rumour that the young master is a troubled child." Von pushed his falling glasses back up the bridge of his nose. [Name] nodded at his words and continued to follow his pace down marble walkway.

Finally the two came to a grandiose staircase with gold linings that supposedly lead to the prince's study.

A young girl stood at the very top of the stairwell.

She looked around a year younger than [Name], so possibly 17 years old. She was short but not too short. She had long golden, nearly glowing blonde hair that was tied into a flattering bun to the back of her head. She wasn't wearing any makeup, which was odd for a noble to do. Her eyelashes were blonde as well. She was also wearing what seemed to be a military training uniform. [Name] noted to themself that this woman looked like a sinister fairy. The only reason she seemed sinister was from the deep red eyes that was embedded into her sockets and the very real and very sharp sword being held in a leather scabbard attached to her left hip.

"Von, may I ask who this commoner is, who is trespassing into my home?" she quipped at the advisor.

Von kneeled on his right knee with his right hand covering his heart again. His face had a thin layer of sweat covering it as he stared intensely at the ground.

"Crown princess, Frieda. The commoner behind me is prince Beta's new tutor. They are here to assist the prince in a few academy subjects that he is having trouble grasping." Von answered in a wavering version of usual tone of voice.

'Wait... what did he say? Crown princess...?' thought [Name] as they stared blankly at the blonde woman.

'SHIT!'

Once they're sense of self preservation finally returned to them, [Name] fell to their knees and buried their head into the cold flooring.

The Crown princess stayed silent at the student's sudden movements. She gracefully walked down the flight of stairs, and stood infornt of [Name]'s bowing head.

"Please raise your heads you two." she commanded in a gentle but firm voice.

[Name] raised their head, only to see that the princess was kneeling infront of them. She held the student's jaw in her right hand and lifted it higher. She turned their head left and right, checking both sides of their face.

She then got back on both of her feet and looked down to the student with a grin. "Take good care of my little brother, alright?"

The student was stunned into silence, but quickly shook their head in agreement. Satisfied with their answer, the princess strieded away, down a seperate hallway from the pair and disappeared from their line of sight.

Von let out a what sounded to be a strangled out sigh of relief. He then whipped his head to look at [Name] with an odd look to his face. He then got up and helped the student back to their own feet, while their feet wobbled from how scared they were from the encounter.

Surely the prince couldn't be that bad if that was the CROWN princess?

He wasn't as bad as they had originally thought.

[Name] had introduced themself to the Sixteen year old prince of the empire, with no response.

He looked nearly identical to the Crown princess. Same glowing gold hair, same deep red hair. His skin wasn't tanned, rather it was a pale white colour, showing how little time he spent outside, the complete opposite of his sister.

The prince was quiet, scarily so. Whenever he was finished answering an exercise, he would look ominously at the young student until they noticed and would mark it for him and then explain how he got whichever answers wrong.

"Do you understand Prince Beta?" [Name] would ask.

The prince would then just nod at their words and write down his corrections next to his wrong answers.

The main sound that echoed throughout the study was the grandfather clock that stood in the corner, signaling the end and beginning of every second. [Name] almost every ten minutes would quickly whip their eyes towards the clock, checking to see when they could leave and run back to their dormitory back on school campus.

Once the Prince was finished with his exercises, he pulled out a thick, leatherback book from a drawer in his office desk. The lettering on the front read in gold cursive 'The rise and fall of cults.'

'Holy fucking shit. This brats' into cults' thought the student.

Instead of feeling an impending sense of neverending doom, they almost squeeled in absolute delight.

[Name][Lastname] was a true crime junkie.

Every murder mystery case, every cult, they knew all about it. The reasons as for the murders, the childhoods of the cult leaders. They. Knew. Everything.

The student cautiously stalked closer to the Prince, like how naive prey checks to see if it's predator is asleep. The Prince lifted his head from the inside of his book to look at the person coming closer and closer to him.

The student asked prudently, "Prince Beta, are you a fan of true crime?"

His eyes almost immediately grew a light in them that was not there before. His cheeks tinged a bit with pink as he looked curiously at the young student. "Are you?" he asked back.

Quickly, the student nodded their head aggressively, agreeing with the prince's question.

A smile stretched onto the boy's face almost immediately. "You are?! You don't think it's an odd interest?!" he screamed out.

[Name] nodded again with an even larger smile on their face. "Yes of course! I find true crime ever so fascinating! I'm even studying to go into criminology when I graduate!"

The Prince's eyes nearly sparkled like a small child's. He immediately got up from his chair and ran up to the young student. He wrapped his fingers around [Name]'s hands and brought them up in a clasp.

He then burst out in exclamation, "You, as of now, are my best friend!"

Being the new best friend of the only Prince of the Empire came with a lot of responsibilities. He now follows the commoner student around the academy grounds like a lost puppy. People had begun to whisper about how [Name] had cast some sort of spell on the prince to make him lighten up so much.

Because of his much more friendly nature, a lot of people had begun to approach him, hoping to become as close to the prince as [Name] did, but all he would do is wrap his arms around [Name]'s left arm and drag them away as he ranted away about a new cultist book he got his hands on a couple days ago.

At the end of the school day, [Name] went back to their dorm room to rest until dinnertime. They did not have to tutor Prince Beta that day since it was a Thursday, so [Name] was able to catch up on their loss of sleep.

They fell onto their creaky bed and groaned from the ache they felt in their bones. The young student shoved their head into the sunken-in pillow and nearly fell asleep.

Suddenly, a loud knock echoed throughout the small bedroom. [Name] groaned loudly again and got up to answer the person outside the door. The student opened their dorm door to be met with a maid in her early thirties. "Mail." she stated and then gently handed the student a neat envelope. That was unusual. Usually, the maids would shove their mail, tear it up, they would even spit on their mail. They did all of this just because the student was a commoner.

The maid walks away from the open doorway, leaving [Name] alone with their thoughts. They closed the door and stalked back to their small, wobbly desk.

The envelope was sealed with a ruby red seal, bearing the seal of the Imperial family. [Name] fingered the envelope open and took the letter out with soft fingers. The letter was written by the Crown princess, written in curly and swirly handwriting. It was an invitation to a small tea party with a couple of other noble ladies who were friends with the Crown princess.

[Name] wrote in simple print lettering a thanks and acceptance to the invitation. They licked and sealed it closed. The student then left to go to the on campus post office to send it to the Crown princess.

The student then went back to their dorm to go and try to fall asleep again.

[Name] stood outside the large glass greenhouse in the back garden of the Imperial palace. Abruptly, a young maid opened the door of the greenhouse to let the student enter.

"Welcome Mx.[Lastname]. The Crown princess has been waiting eagerly for you. Please follow me." greeted the maid as she bowed shallowly. [Name] nodded as well in greeting and followed behind the maid as quickly as they could.

The maid lead the young student through different sections of flowers ranging in shapes, sizes, and colour. What specifically caught [Name]'s attention was a small patch of pink Azaleas. 'How lovely.' thought [Name]

After a little bit more walking, the maid had lead the young student to an elevated seating area, where several tables and chairs were sprawled about.

The Crown princess sat at a table right in the middle. She was wearing a lovely red dress, with a cascading skirt that swept below her ankles. It had puffed out, see through red sleeves thst reached up too her knuckles. Her hair was tied up in a pretty up-do hairstyle, leaving little bit of hair hanging on her shoulders. Overall, she exuded an air of elegance and superiority.

Crown princess Frieda noticed that [Name] was standing on her left side, making her sweep her head in her direction. A small smile graced her face as she welcomed the student, "Good morning Mx.[Lastname], a pleasure to see you once again."

Frieda then stood up, showing her velvet red heels with a large diamond studded into the front of it. The princess pulled out the empty chair that was next to her, and gestured for them to sit down next to her. Understanding her intention, [Name] sluggishly walked up to the princess and sat down in the seat she wanted them to sit in.

The Crown princess sat back down in her original chair and sipped on her tea. Slowly, [Name] reached out and took a cookie from the large platter of baked goods. A maid came to the student's side and poured some tea into their cup as they nibbled on the sweet treat.

"So Mx.[Lastname], you are the commoner who attends the royal academy, correct?" quipped a young daughter of unnamed Baron. She placed her teacup back down in the saucer and with a smile, rested her smiling face on her intertwined fingers.

The student looked up from their cookie with a confused expression painted on their face. Recovering quickly from their confusion, they answered in shaky voice, "Indeed. I am able to attended the Royal Academy due to a scholarship I was gifted on my 16th birthday."

The baron's daughter giggled and whispered something into the woman's ear right next to her. The commoner looked down embarrassingly into their lap, wondering what they had said to warrant such a reaction from the other woman.

The Crown princess was sitting at the head of the table, her head held high, making everyone aware of her presence. The tutor sat on the seat on Frieda's left side, which definitely caused some stares from the other attendees. Definitely wasn't a good look for the poor tutor.

Frieda coughed into her clenched fist and looked at Alicia with a blank look on her face. "The honourable Alicia Crusainia. Please mind your manners towards my guest. Don't forget your place here."

Alicia's face became a bright, hot tomato red and looked down at her lap, similarly to the young student. "Mx. [Lastname]. Lift your head."

Almost under a spell, [Name] lifted their head from their lap and looked at the Crown princess in awe. Frieda was looking at [Name] with an odd looking face with her eyebrow raised. It was a mix of boredom and curiosity.

"You are my honored guest. My little brother treasures you quite a lot, therefore, so must I." She stated as if it was a well known fact.

"Yes, your royal highness." They said in a calm and deft tone.

Freida nodded her head, making her golden curls bounce. She then turned and took another sip of her tea.

"So, [Name]! How was the tea party with my sister?" questioned Beta during one of his and the student's tutoring sessions.

The student looked at Beta with a confused look on their face. "It was alright, nothing special happened." They answer the prince.

Looking confused, Beta's head knocked to the side. "Really? Because from what I heard, my sister ripped some Baron's daughter a new one for making fun of you!"

'Making fun of me? Was that what she was doing?' [Name] thought to themselves.

"It seems that you were unaware. Maybe I could ask my sister to invite you to balls more often so that you can get better at catching on to these things!" Beta suggests with a large smile on his face, proud of his brilliant idea.

"No no no no no! I could barely handle a simple tea party! No way I'll be able to survive a ball where I have to dance!" [Name] panicked.

The prince pouted at their words, disappointed in their answer. He slumps over his desk and makes his head fall into the crook of his arms. His blonde hair fell over his arms, looking like a veil over his arms.

"Mhm.... I mean.... if you can convince your sister, and I don't have to dance... then I'll agree." [Name] softly said, scratching the back of their neck in nervousness.

Beta's head immediately shot up and with an absolutely large smile, he nodded aggressively convincing the student that he may be half bobble head.

"Then you will come to my birthday ball, right?"

[Name] answered, "Of course your majesty."

The student then sat down across from the young prince with their textbook and continued on with their lesson.

After the lesson was completed, [Name] was walking steadily through the velvet covered floors of the castle's hallways. The student placed their hands on the back of their neck and rubbed tough circles into the nape of their neck, relaxing their muscles after two and a half hours of being on the tip of their toes. Even though Prince Beta had claimed them as their best friend, [Name] still stayed on guard around him, just incase he was the type to have extreme mood swings.

[Name] groaned in pleasure as they passed through another hallway of the residential wing of the Imperial castle.

"Mx.[Lastname], have you finally finished your lesson with my brother?" a voice asked behind the student.

The student whipped their head around and caught the eyes of the young Crown Princess.

The Crown Princess was wearing a light cream colored dress with many flowy layers that what [Name] assumed was to let wind in more easily to cool the princess down.

"Your Royal Highness, you are correct. I have just finished mine and the prince's tutoring session." answered the student with a cautious look on their face.

Frieda giggled maturely at the look of [Name]'s wary expression. "Have no worry Mx.[Lastname], I don't bite." she joked.

They nodded at the Princess's words.

"Then why don't you join me in my office for some tea? I'd like to discuss something of importance with you." she proposed.

The student nodded, making the princess walk past their side and leading them towards the direction of her office. The pair walked past several paintings of similar blonde haired individuals, who the student assumed was members of the Imperial family who had unfortunately passed.

The two came to two large wood doors that lead to Frieda's office. One of the guards who were standing on duty, opened the doors for the pair to let them in.

[Name] realised that the Crown princess' favourite colour was a red and gold. Many of the furniture was lined with a deep velvet including the long curtains with gold linings and stitches. The only things that were not those two colours were the floor, her desk and her book shelves that lined every wall of the office.

In the middle of the room were two overstuffed couches with a coffee table in the middle, most likely to hold meetings such as the one the student and princess were about to have.

"Tell Isabella to prepare some tea for my guest and I. Also tell her to bring some of the new pastries we received from the Levan kingdom." The princess ordered one of the knight, making him turn is tail and gallop to where [Name] guessed was where the maid was.

"Please Mx.[Lastname], take a seat." Frieda says while gesturing to the couch.

With unprecedented caution, they shift over to the sofa and sit down and nearly sink in due to cushiness. The princess giggle from their distress as they tried to sit up in the embracing seat.

A maid enters the office with a cart being pushed by her. Ontop was a large teapot and two teacups with saucers. On the level below it was a tower of pastries which [Name] recognised from it's appearance at the tea party from the day before.

The maid sets the teacups and saucers down in front of the pair and quickly prepares the tea and pastries. She then curtsys to the Crown princess, bows her head at the young student, turns on her heel and leaves.

Frieda languidly picks the teacup up and takes a long sip of the steaming hot tea. While [Name] is wandering how the princess is not reacting to the pain of the most definitely hot beverage, Frieda speaks up, "I have asked you to come here with me today because I would like to apologise to you."

She places the teacup down in it's saucer and looks and [Name] with a sympathetic look on her face. "What the honorable Alicia Crusainia did at my tea party was extremely rude and uncaring. She simply has no idea how tough one's life can be."

[Name] stunded in silence. Why was the Crown princess apologising to a commoner like them? Not wanting to deny the princess' words, the student looked down into the light brown of their tea and said, "It's alright. Honestly speaking, I didn't even understand what she had said, so I didn't feel anything."

Frieda looks surprised at their words. "But aren't you the top student at the Royal Academy? How could you not know?" She questioned.

They look embarrassed as they quickly answer, "I am just book smart! And I honestly have a lot of trouble applying my knowledge in real-life situations. I read a royal etiquette book before I left for the palace, but it honestly didn't come in very handy..." they muttered off.

The Crown princess' face morphed into a look of conviction. "Then, after school every day when you don't have to tutor Beta, you will spend it with me, and I will teach you everything you need to know about social cues, etiquette, conversations, everything!" the princess says in a voice that screamed determined.

Nearly jumping out of their chair, [Name] tries to plead that the princess did not need to go out of her way to teach a commoner. The princess merely ignored them and gently ordered them to eat the prepared pastries.

Now the young student's weekly schedule would consist of every Monday, Wednesday and Friday being spent tutoring Beta, and every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday being tutored by the Crown princess. They would almost always leave the palace absolutely drained of their energy, a mere husk of their former self as they rode the carriage baring the Imperial coat of arms back to the dorm houses on the school campus.

The days were feeling longer and longer as Beta's birthday ball's date came closer and closer. The blonde prince would chat with the young student about anything and everything that came to his mind. The friendship between the two of them had become even stronger than before for no particular rhyme or reason. Beta would lug behind them during school hours, despite not being in the same year, and would frighten off the little amount of friends that the student would have had before the prince.

Soon enough, Beta's birthday ball came up.

A formal invitation had already been sent to them, written personally by the spry prince himself in loopy lettering.

The student got dressed in the most formal clothes they had on hand. Sure it was a bit tattered and a few small holes were sprinkled on the ends, but it would be fine as long as no one looked at them! And besides, they're a commoner! They are probably just going to sit in the corner of the hall and only get up to get more food and drinks.

With that plan in mind, the student climbed carefully into the imperial branded carriage once again and rode off to the party.

Soon enough, the young student arrived at the Imperial palace. They stumbled out of the carriage and brisket walked into the large building, not wanting to be noticed by the announcer so that they could hide away as best as can from the nobles attending the ball that night.

They had finally reached the banquet hall, entering and hiding away from plain sight from the noblesmen and women.

"Now then! Announcing the entrance of Crown Princess Frieda Köinig and Prince Beta Köinig!" announced a high ranking servant from the top of the large staircase in the middle of the banquet hall.

The entire hall was decked to the nines with red, gold and white. The diamonds hanging from the chandelier were burning even more brighter than what the young student assumed was usual. Long banquet tables were lined with finger foods of all varieties.

A servant walked up to the scholar and offered them a tall flute of champagne. Gingerly, they took the glass off the tray, making the servant walk away, and taking a few sips and proceeding to nearly lurch it out from the taste. Okay, they are definitely not a fan of champagne, duley noted.

In that moment, the Crown Princess and the prince entered through the doors at the top of the stairs. Beta held his elder sister's hand in his as he lead her down the stairs. All of the noblemen and women stared in awe of the siblings.

Beta was wearing a lovely white suit with light red and blue jewels sprinkled all of the jacket. He wore blue cufflinks and large rubies were studded into the edges of his collar. This was a big upgrade from the white tunic and black pants he wore during their tutoring sessions, or the navy blue military styled uniform they wear at the academy.

Frieda looked stunning as usual. She was wearing a new cream coloured ball gown, embedded with small diamonds across the fabric. Elbow length gloves covered her arms and gold sleeper rings were slid up her fingers, making them glimmer in the chandelier light. A floral styled tiara sat on top of her head, the same coloured diamonds were set in it as well.

The siblings came to the end of the staircase and gracefully smiled at the crowd. Frieda and Beta were quickly surrounded by the stuffy noblemen and women. [Name] stood aside and stayed out of sight of the siblings.

Beta leaned into Frieda's ear and whispered something to her. His words made the princess look around, almost frantically. The curls in her hair bounce from the movement of her head. Frieda quickly caught the eyes of the commoner, making a graceful smile spread onto her face. She tapped Beta's upper arm and pointed into [Name]'s direction, whispering something into his ear. All of this happened while the said student was slowly sipping on their champagne and gazing outside the stained coloured window.

Frieda and Beta walked past all the noble people, making them gasp and quiet down immediately. "[Name]! You're really here!" announced Beta as he unhooked his sister's hand from his arm.

Frieda smiled in happiness from the sight of Beta speaking animatingly with his tutor. "I am quite glad to see you here Mx.[Lastname]. I hope that you have so far been having a good time."

[Name] nodded at the Princess's words with a chuckle. "I have. No need to worry your royal majesty." Frieda nodded at their words and let her younger brother control the way the current conversation is going.

The cusp of the birthday ball was on it's way. Everyone was jovial and talkative. Frieda had left [Name] and Beta to themselves to that she could converse with the other invitees. Beta stuck to [Name]'s side like usual.

The duo had moved closer to the end of the hall, nearer to the food lined banquet table.

Suddenly, a loud trumpet sounded through the hall, bringing attention to a well dressed servant standing at the end of the staircase. Frieda stood in the middle of the staircase, her dress flowed down the stairs like a flowing river.

Frieda with a calming smile, announced, "I would like to present my gift to my little brother. He and I had a long discussion together about what would be the best present for his birthday. And I would like to present to you all what I had come up with. But first, I would like [Name] [Lastname] to come near the front."

[Name] stood in fear from the sound of their name leaving the princess' lips.

'Shitshitshitshitshitshit.' thought [Name] while they cautiously approached the front of the thick crowd of loudly dressed nobles. When the commoner finally reached the front of the crowd, they stood there, shifting there weight from foot to foot, shivering under the eyes of the Crown princess.

Soon enough, the princess signals at someone from behind her to do something. The large doors open up and a young woman comes tumbling out. An imperial guard grabs what little left of her brown, wet hair and roughly shoves her down the stairs. She stops rolling conveniently infront of [Name]'s feet, dirtying it with blood from a large gash on her right cheek.

Frieda climbs down the stairs and grabs the girl's hair and forces her head up to look into [Name]'s terrified eyes.

"Do you remember this girl Beta?" questioned the Crown princess, looking at her younger brother who was standing right next to his tutor. Beta looked down in awe at the beaten and bruised girl kneeling infront of him and [Name]. He then leaps from his tutor's side and falls into his sister's embrace. "Thank you thank you thank you! Oh, I love this present so so much!"

The young student stared at the bloodied girl with a look of terror in their eyes. This girl looked so oddly familiar. As if they had seen her before.

"Who is this girl, may I ask your royal majesty?" asked the tutor, not looking away from the nearly catatonic girl.

"This, my dear, is the honorable Alicia Crusainia, the one who had made fun of you at my tea party two months ago." answered the princess in a matter of factly tone of voice.

'Holy fucking shit she's fucking crazy!'

Beta made a nearly inaudible squeeling noise of happiness and quickly when back to [Name]'s side. "Now I get to take care of her properly for making fun of you! Aren't you so excited!?"

A thick sheet of sweat covered [Name]'s face as they stared down at their bloodied shoes. Frieda took notice of this action and nearly flung herself to [Name]'s side when she saw the blood on their shoes.

Frieda stomped on Alicia's head making her lower her head for the commoner.

"Now then, let's discuss our future from this time onward. How about we begin with giving you a proper title and moving you into the palace with my little brother and I"

Posted on: 30 August 2024 23:46

[at0michips]

people pleaser — art donaldson

summary: after years of worrying about other peoples needs, art finally finds the pleasure of having someone do everything it takes to make him satisfied.

Art Donaldson was known for lowering his head for a long time, as a kid if his grandma asked him to do some chore he'd drop whatever he was doing and obey her, just to hear a "Thank you nana's love, let's bake you some cookies". At boarding school, Patrick would always be making bets with him just because he knew Art would do the stupidest things just so he could see his friend smirk and pat his back saying how impressed he was that Art really did that. During his marriage things were no different, Art would do whatever Tashi said inside and out of court. He was determined to make her satisfied, to be seen and rewarded just how it happened his whole life, in all his relationships.

However, this didn't last forever. During Lily's first years of life, Art didn't felt the pressure of pleasing his wife, in fact it was the first time he didn't felt the need to please anyone around him. All he wanted to do was care and protect his baby, and he was so happy to do so, until she was big enough to stay with Tashi's mom and they had to go back to the routine. After this it seemed like something shifted and Tashi was way colder and bossy about his performance, and all of a sudden he wasn't able to please her anymore.

It did took some time, but Art finally built up enough courage to ask her for the divorce and shortly after, retire from tennis. He bought a big house, decorated Lily's room with her during recess and thought he had finally found some peace.

And for sometime he was, he kept on going to sports events, watched some tennis matches and kept as much sponsorships as he was able to. But then one day, he was invited to a sports event at Stanford, where all the students who played something would be listening a lecture he and other alumni would say how much the university helped them in their careers, answer some questions and maybe take some pictures. Nothing out of line, right?

That was until the end of the event, when one of his former professors approached him with a girl by her side. She introduced her as the top of her class and, an amazing tennis player just like you were. Art notices that he does know this girl, he remember avid movements on court, how she basically devoured her opponent. She was in fact an amazing tennis player, and also a fan of Art Donaldson.

Art learned how to aprecciate his fans more with time, enjoy the attention, and as they both walked through campus he was enjoying it too. Although she was basically asking him things about his career, he noticed how she was nervous about being around him and even stuttered sometimes, seemed to be worried about the next line.

But the moment he could see the nervousness in her eyes, was when they were sitting down both with a cup of coffee on their hands and she asked the question "i was hoping you would be my coach". The nervous girl was able to make the confident Art Donaldson spechless. Coach? Art had never thought about it, let alone after retiring, but he would be lying if he said he didn't missed the feeling of competing, and as he heard her reasons Art started to wonder if maybe, it wasn't what was missing in his new life, a little bit of his old one.

As soon as you graduated you went pro. You couldn't believe it when you heard him agreeing with becoming your coach, it seemed like a dream, you remember being eleven and watching one of his matches with your dad and immediately falling in love with Art, and just like every girl who's obssessed with a celebrity, started consuming everything related to him, and yes it meant that you also begged your parents for tennis classes. The surprise came when you were actually good at it and started to enjoy it, good enough to earn a scholarship to Stanford.

With time, your crush on him became less and less intense and eventually escaped your head. That was until your favorite professor and you were having a talk about your future and you revealed the wish to go pro to her and she started saying about how one of her best former students became a professional tennis player, and how he could help her with that.

The first time you met him, it felt like you were eleven again and as he started to coach you it got even harder.

It didn't took much time for Art to start regretting his decision, you were great, and after he started coaching you got even better. The public saw it, the brands saw it and quickly everybody noticed you, by your talent and also your coach. But being on the spotlight again was not what was bothering Art, it was how you would move as he told you, hit the ball as he told you, at how powerful he felt as you looked sad when you would screw something up during training and immediately try to fix it, was how even outside the court you were always trying to find the right words to talk to him and how eager you were to be perfect for him.

Your body became stronger, your were always showing off your toned legs and everytime your eyes weren't on the ball, they were set on him. He wasn't stupid, he knew you had a thing for him and he knew that if he asked you for any favor you'd just drop whatever you're doing and help him out, if he decided that you would receive some embarassment punishment after a mistake in court you would just do it, and he was pretty sure that if he simply bent you over the bench you would simply stick your ass up to his cock. And he enjoyed it, he genuiely enjoyed how much power he had over you.

And for that he hated himself, you were barely legally drinking while he was retired, divorced and a father, it was impossible for anything to happen between you two.

That's what he thought while he was setting down on his hotel room, it was the first time you and Art had to travel for a tournament, it was a big one and it would start the next day, however your coach wanted you to know the court you'd be playing, train a bit and enjoy a good night of sleep without having to worry about waking up late and fuck everything up. You'd be lying if you said that you weren't shaking nervous, everything you did after Art became your coach was milimetrically calculated to be perfect and meet his expectations, you were living the dream and wouldn't let it all go away with your stupid mistakes, this you could and would control. You weren't so sure about how hot he was, Art was on his 30s but he really couldn't look hotter.

You kept trying to get rid of this thoughts all day long, but the fact that he was always there watching you closely and talking to you wasn't helping at all.

Even after a cold shower and a good 30 minutes tossing and turning around your hotel bed, your mind wouldn't stop thinking about Art, not giving you any peace of mind to focus on your breath and fall asleep. Tired of it, you decided to take a walk around the hotel, hoping it would finish tiring your body. Shit, Art would be mad if he saw you awake this late? Or would he have a disappointed look on his face? 

Grabbing a sweatshirt and putting it over your head was all you did before opening your door and facing your coach. “Y/N, what are you doing up this late?” he said in a low and rough voice

You looked up at Art, caught off guard by his unexpected presence. His sharp gaze met yours, a mix of concern and something more inscrutable flickering in his eyes. The hallway was dimly lit, casting shadows that seemed to accentuate the tension between you.

“I... I just needed to clear my head,” you stammered, trying to sound more confident than you felt. The late hour and the quiet of the hotel made the situation feel even more intense.

Art stepped closer, his imposing figure filling the space in front of you. His presence was both intimidating and oddly comforting. “You should be asleep,” he said, his voice softer now but still carrying an authoritative edge. “You’ve got an important match tomorrow.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and excitement stir within you. “I know. I just couldn’t stop thinking... about everything.”

Art’s eyes softened, a rare glimpse of vulnerability from the usually unyielding coach. “Thinking about me?” he asked, his tone almost teasing but laced with something deeper.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah. About how I messed up during practice and how I’m not ready.”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re ready,” he said firmly. “You’ve been working hard. But I get it. Sometimes the mind doesn’t shut off as easily as we want it to.”

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. “I didn’t expect you to be out here. I thought you’d be asleep too.”

He smirked slightly, the corners of his lips curling up in a way that made your breath hitch. “I have my own ways of dealing with things,” he said cryptically. “And right now, it seems like you need something else to help you unwind.”

Before you could react, Art closed the distance between you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch was startling, and you could feel the electricity crackling between you. His thumb lightly brushed against your skin, sending a shiver through your entire body.

“What are you—” you started, but the words died in your throat as he leaned in closer.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. It was as if all the unspoken words, all the hidden desires, were being conveyed through that single, intense connection. You melted against him, your initial surprise giving way to a deep, burning need to reciprocate.

Art’s kiss was demanding, yet gentle, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you closer. Your own hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them as if they were the only thing anchoring you to reality. The kiss deepened, both of you lost in the moment, forgetting the world outside and the looming challenges.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together. Art’s eyes were dark with a mixture of satisfaction and something that could only be described as tenderness.

“You needed that,” he murmured, his voice low and rough once more. “And I needed it too.”

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah. I think... I think we both did.”

Art’s gaze softened further, and for a moment, the stern coach was gone, replaced by someone who seemed genuinely caring and vulnerable. “Go back to bed,” he said gently, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

You nodded, feeling a newfound sense of calm. As you turned to head back to your room, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. Art’s gaze followed you, a silent promise in his eyes.

“Goodnight, Art,” you said softly.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice carrying a note of warmth that lingered even as you closed your door behind you.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Shoot Your Shot Part 1

Bayou Barbie Meets the Hometown Hero

Synopsis: When you are playing a game in Louisville a certain person in the audience couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Not wanting the opportunity to pass him by, he quickly makes it his goal to grab your attention before the night is over

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Basketball Player!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

A sigh of relief finally escaped you as you lifted your arms in order to shoot a three pointer and successfully scored making your team win the game. You were currently in Louisville going against the Cardinals and as good as a team that they were, tonight you had proved to be better.

Currently, you played for LSU in the position of point guard on a full scholarship and you were in your sophomore year. Even though you grew up in Maryland, this was the only school that you had your eyes set on for as long as you could remember. 

Your teammates quickly crowded around you and embraced you as the buzzer went off signaling the end of the game. 

As you walked off the court, different people were congratulating all of you, but all you wanted to do was get food, go back to your hotel and sleep all weekend until you boarded a plane to go back to Louisiana.

Studying for your midterms would also be thrown in there somewhere.

But it was Friday night and more than likely your teammates were not about to let that happen.

You quickly showered and got dressed, but as you were putting on your shoes, one of your best friends, Kelsey, sat down next to you and simply eyed you.

She played center and towered over you at 6’4 even though you were 6 feet yourself. 

“Why are you just staring at me you little weirdo?” You asked when she finally caught your eye.

“Uhh did you see your boyfriend staring at you tonight?”

“Who?!? Me and Tristan broke up so what in the world is your ass talking about? Was he here?!”

“Not him! Jack Harlow!”

“Girl, what?! Now, I know you’ve lost your mind.”

The entire team knew how big of a crush you had on him and would tease you about it all the time, and you would constantly be fighting for your life in the group chat. Kelsey had actually gotten you tickets for your birthday to see him in concert before.

Multiple times.

“He was staring at you the entire time!”

“Uh, because he was watching us play?” You responded as you put your curly hair up in a bun on top of your head.

“Nah, not us, YOU!”

“I second that!” Screamed Ebony from across the room, but you just looked at the both of them dumbfounded.

“If you two say so, now I’m hungry so where are we about to go and eat?”

“Zombie taco, I think we should be able to walk to it from here. I looked it up before we even got here."

The restaurant wasn’t far from the arena and you and a few of your teammates walked a few streets over. As you were all standing in line, your other best friend Briana pinched you and told you to look to your left.

“Ow! What the hell Bree?!”

“Your husband is over there and so is his fine ass best friend Urban. I’d do anything to kiss those lips of his.”

“First, he’s my boyfriend and now he’s my husband? I’m going to need for the two of you to make up your mind!”

“He obviously wants you since he keeps staring at you.”

“Everyone stares at me. I’m used to it. I’m tall.” You replied while shrugging. 

“Bitch, we’re all tall! You’re actually one of the shortest ones on the team!” Kelsey quickly said and all you did was roll your eyes and playfully push her.

You were the last to order and as you went to take out your card to pay, the girl at the cash register quickly shook her head.

“No need, someone already paid for your food for you.”

Kelsey and Briana heard this and you quickly looked over at them to see them both smirking.

“It wasn’t us. We’re broke college students, bitch.” Briana said while taking a swig of water from her courtesy cup that she had gotten and all you could do was laugh.

“I got you when I make it to the WNBA.” Kelsey added and you just smiled at the cashier.

“Do you mind me asking who paid for me?”

“Dude with the curly hair sitting in the corner. I think you already know his name.” She replied as she smiled at you.

You looked in the direction where she pointed and of course, she was pointing to no one other than Jack himself and your eyes went wide.

“We told you.” Was all Briana said as the three of you waited for your food. 

“I hear wedding bells and Harlow babies in the future.”

“I will make you walk back to our apartment.”

The three of you found a table not too far from where Jack was sitting and Kelsey and Briana sat on one side making it so you actually ended up facing him and you quickly rolled your eyes at the two of them.

“You two get on my nerves.”

“We just want to see this love connection unfold. Don’t be mad at us!”

“I’m not mad at all, but come on. He’s tall himself, what does he need with a tall girl too?”

“You’re a catch and I’m going to need for you to stop talking about yourself that way.”

“I’ve hardly met any guys who want to date tall girls. Tristan doesn’t count because that relationship was a dumpster fire on wheels.”

“The team celebrated when you dropped him.”

“WHAT?!”

“Come on, he treated you like shit. You deserve happiness and we can’t understand why you of all people can’t see that. You have the biggest heart and we’re tired of seeing you get hurt. Take a chance with him because his number will definitely be in your phone by the time we leave. Mark my words.”

“Bree, unhand my nacho before I stab you with my fork. If you wanted some, you should have gotten some.” You responded as you avoided what she had said before. The thing is that you knew that she was right, but now that basketball and school took up most of your time, doing anything else with you was like pulling teeth.

“Didn’t I tell you I was a broke college student?”

You wanted to thank Jack, but didn’t want to interrupt him with his friends, however Kelsey and Briana could tell you were trying to make your way out the door before saying anything to him and they weren’t having it.

“Nope, come on. Let’s go right now!” Kelsey said as she tugged at your arm.

“What?! No!”

Before you knew it all three of you were in front of Jack, Urban, Clay, Ace, Sunni, Cope, and Nemo with you in the middle and Kelsey and Briana on each side.

“Hey! Our best friend just wanted to say thank you for paying for her food. Right, Y/N?” Briana said and you quickly smiled at him.

“Yeah, thank you. I appreciate it.” You quietly said and Jack couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Anytime, pretty girl. You three played a hell of a game tonight.” Jack answered and you could feel yourself getting hot.

“Well we have no choice when we have a captain as good as she is. We have to do our best to keep up with her.” Kelsey said while looking over at you.

“Well, Y/N, I want to be able to keep up with you too, so put your number in my phone if you’re up for it.” Jack replied while handing you his phone and you quickly took it. You already knew Kelsey and Briana were internally screaming and you wouldn’t hear the end of this for weeks.

As you finished putting your number in, you quickly handed him back his phone.

“You doing anything tomorrow?” He asked and you started to answer, but Kelsey quickly cut you off.

“Being with…”

“NO! SHE’S FREE! Pick her up at 8! We’ll send you the address. Come on Y/N!” Kelsey said as she pushed both you and Briana out of the door. 

“See you then gorgeous.”

“Okay, can’t wait.”

When the three of you got outside, you all looked at each other before collectively screaming.

“Bitch! What did we tell you?!”

“Okay, I admit you two were right because a lot of times yall aren’t.”

“That was one time on the sociology final. You aren’t going to keep hanging that over my head, Y/N! That was freshman year!”

“I- you know what Kelsey, I forgive you for that. Even though that was just literally last semester.” You said while laughing.

“Oh shit, I can’t wait to pick out your outfit!”

“Uh oh.”

“Uh oh, what?!”

“I don’t have anything to wear!”

“Uhh? You literally look like a model out of your uniform, how do you not have anything to wear?”

“All of my cute clothes are at our apartment… In LOUISIANA!” 

“It’s okay. I have my credit card my parents gave me for emergencies. I think it's almost maxed out, but there should be enough for us to get you something.”

“Bree…..”

“This is a fashion emergency so tomorrow we’re going shopping to get you ready for your date with Jack Harlow.” 

Suddenly you had stopped walking and when they both noticed that you were behind them instead of beside them, they looked at you concerned.

“Y/N? Everything okay?”

“Did he just call me pretty girl or was I imagining that?”

“You definitely didn't imagine it. He wants to get to know the bayou barbie for himself.” 

[mimi-0007]

Lucy Diggs Slowe (July 4, 1885 – October 21, 1937) was an American educator and athlete, and the first Black woman to serve as Dean of Women at any American university. She was a founder of Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority, the first sorority founded by African-American women.

Slowe was a tennis champion, winning the national title of the American Tennis Association's first tournament in 1917, the first African-American woman to win a major sports title. In 1922, Slowe was appointed the first Dean of Women at Howard University. She continued in that role for 15 years until her death. In addition, Slowe created and led two professional associations to support college administrators.

Lucy Diggs Slowe was born in Berryville, Virginia to Henry Slowe and Fannie Potter Slowe. While various sources put her birth year as 1885,[3][4] others have said 1883. She was one of seven children. Her father's occupation has been reported as a hotel operator, restaurant proprietor and farmer. He died before Lucy turned one and her mother died shortly after. Following her mother's death, Lucy and her sister Charlotte were raised by her aunt Martha Price in Lexington, Virginia. At thirteen, Lucy and her family moved to Baltimore, Maryland, where she attended the Baltimore Colored High and Training School. She graduated second in her class in 1904, receiving one of the two-sponsored scholarships to Howard from the Baltimore City School Board.

Slowe was the first person from her school to attend Howard University, the top historically black college in the nation, at a time when only 1/3 of 1% of African Americans and 5% of whites of eligible age attended any college.

After graduation in 1908, Slowe returned to Baltimore to teach English in high school. During the summers, she started studying at Columbia University in New York, where she earned her Masters of Arts degree in 1915.

[fatherforgivethem]

The Greens in Forks, Washington….

Alicent Hightower: The mother of four quickly found herself married to the sheriff of Forks when she moved her and her kids to the states. The kids, thankfully, took a liking to Criston and the man never left their lives. She runs a tree farm and is constantly worrying about her children and her nephew Jace, even if they tell her not to. Especially her eldest, Aegon. She calms herself by tending to her trees and experimenting with new recipes from time to time.

Criston Cole: The sheriff quickly found himself head over heals for Alicent Hightower and her charming children. He’s known them since they were only little, and while they may not be his blood, they are his children. Being a sheriff is a difficult task when two of your children are constantly doings things they aren’t supposed to, and a round of murders is currently plaguing the town. Especially when your youngest son has become obsessed with solving them.

Aegon Hightower-Cole: The young man, who only just finished up at high school, is working hard to make money for college. If he can’t go, then he can make sure that his siblings do. The once baseball player let go of his dreams for a day job at an auto garage and a night shift in selling drugs to the rich kids in town. His parents, thankfully, don’t know and he’d like to keep it that way. He doubts his sister Helaena would like it either, though, he’s been known to always take her opinion of him rather seriously.

Helaena Hightower-Cole: The teen, when she’s not at the local diner, where she works as a waitress, likes to spend her time studying the bugs she finds in the woods. While the job at the diner was scary at first, she became used to the locals and enjoys her time there. She uses half of the money she makes to save, and the other half to indulge in the tools she needs in studying her insect collection. She’s always happy to get Aegon his usual when he comes into the diner and sometimes he likes to give her a book on bugs in return when she gets home.

Jace Velaryon: The young British man moved to the states not too long ago to help his aunt Alicent with the tree farm. He holds a love for plants and anything to do with nature and is more than happy to live with his four cousins and aunt and uncle. He likes to visit the cafe in the mornings and he always makes sure to drop a coffee off to his uncle Criston at the sheriffs department before heading to the tree farm. His Aunt Ali and him mostly spend their days on the farm and he’s come to love the rainy town he now calls home.

Aemond Hightower-Cole: The young teen spends most of his time at work and studying for any upcoming exam of his. He can usually be spotted at the counter of the diner, where works alongside Helaena, scribbling something down in his notebook. The whole town can agree that he makes an amazing cup of coffee and that he’s going to get into a top school once he graduates. He’s been saving the money he makes from work in several jars that he puts underneath his bed and has been applying for every scholarship he can find. He wants to make sure that his parents won’t have to pay for his education. He’s been encouraging Aegon to apply to a nearby college, but his elder brother only shrugs him off with a “maybe.” He’ll keep trying though.

Daeron Hightower-Cole: Daeron, the youngest of his family, is usually the person who comes in second when it comes to making his dads head spin (Aegon takes the gold on that one). Recently, he’s been giving his dad grey hairs by getting caught at crime scenes and selling test answers to kids at school. He’s always been interested in the cases his dad solves, but the recent ones have gotten his head all foggy with questions. The recent murders going on in town, and the mysterious kids at his school have him looking for clues in the woods late at night, and making murder boards behind his bedroom door. Something doesn’t seem right, and he’ll figure it out. He should probably take down the cups in his room before Jace complains about the mess again.

With extreme help and support from the lovely @sidraofthewildflowers 💓 thank you!!!!

[charmedreincarnation]

My Boujee wealthy dark academia shifting story

Before I started manifesting money in this reality, I was super obsessed with the old money aesthetic, gossip girl, nepotism babies, and just anything money tbh, because obscene wealth has always been fascinating to me. I was honestly bored and feeling materistlic when I intended to go here solely for the purpose of ending this exploration crave lol. I’ll just list some of the thing I had fun doing and my experiences. I won’t get into specific stories because they’re probably just as you presume.

I’m going to first run through some of the most fascinating things I experienced and before I tell personal stories.

-Going to luxury rooftop bars and having drinks with my friends! This is one of my first realities where I was of age and had an extroverted personality so that was fun

-I Joined a super cool and high class sorority at my college. I always thought the concept of a sorority was cringe but we did a lot of volunteer work, and the communal family you have access to is beyond what I expected.

-Going on fancy night outs and renting the most expensive hotel room to have a relaxing night with friends and/ or throwing a giant high class party was the weekend norm. My ambivert self here is shocked that this is how some people live everyday haha.

- getting to be be a mysterious rich person, and legacy student at my university had its perk.

-my parents owned vacation homes in the aesthetic countrysides of Switzerland and France. Here I didn’t get the reasoning of having multiple homes,but when you travel often, it’s not as impractical as it seems.

-getting used to flying private. Not having to go through tsa and having a corsage of people to have travel be as easy as possible was so fun. I don’t travel often here and when I do it spikes my anxiety. Being surrounded by people and having to do all those checks stresses me out, and not dealing with that made traveling so much more fun.

-my parents created a huge scholarship fund to help low-income families. With a certain amounts of students winning every month. This scholarship covers all fees for college from boarding to school supplies to tuition costs to meal plans. I got to also sponsor an endangered animals. My choice was pandas :)

-getting to go to go to the met gala!

-Buying expensive rare and ancient plants! My dad bought a $20,000 olive tree for my mom to plant on our property, and it’s worth the price. Nature to me will always be priceless

The first thing that I think of when I reflect on what it is like being in the top .01% is the access to resources. Having access to a sizable personal fortune gives me the freedom to purchase anything I want and to travel anywhere in the world. I can indulge in luxuries that some people can only dream about.

It also brings with it a considerable amount of responsibility. As part of this elite group I have an obligation to use my resources to better the lives of those around me. For example, I have been able to make donations to charities and invest in causes that are important to me. I believe this is a great way to use my wealth to make a difference in the world.At times being in the top .01% was overwhelming. There is a certain level of pressure to make sure that my money is invested in responsible and rewarding ways. As well, many people view the wealthy with suspicion and resentment, which can be intimidating at times.

Anyways I want to expand on my experience attending the mega gala, bc that was easily my favorite night.My experience attending the Met gala was super cool, and a night to remember no matter what reality I’m in. I was so honored to be there for the first time ever. I vividly remember I was wearing a gorgeous navy blue satin dress with glittering jewels around the edges. The glittering jewels were a perfect complement to the gold sequins that adorn my dress as I made my way to the main event.inside, I was amazed by the opulence of the venue and how much effort has gone into creating such a beautiful spectacle. Everywhere I look I see incredible art installations, shimmering lights, and luxurious furnishings that all make me feel like I'm in a wonderland. To top it off, there's was incredible live music playing and the electrifying atmosphere that is enough to make anyone want to get up and dance.Of course, it wouldn't be a true Met Gala experience without some of the amazing food and drinks. From delicious hors d'oeuvres to exquisite sweet treats, everything was artfully prepared and presented, definitely making it a night to remember.

As the evening progresses, there was so much more to take in. Celebrities were mingling, taking pictures and making speeches; even just getting a chance to be in the same room with them was an incredible experience.My favorite moment was meeting a person I’m both of fan of here in this reality and that reality as well. I vividly remember Lily-Rose Depp gracefully walking through the hall, meeting people one by one and graciously talking to each of them.finally, it was my turn to meet her. She warmly shook my hand and asked me how I was doing. We began talking, and I found myself instantly at ease around her. We spoke about roles we've taken on in the past, our respective passions in life, and our favorite movies.

I was completely swept away by her enthusiasm for life and her willingness to connect on a deeper level with those around her. As we talked, I noticed that she kept casting glances around the hall- which I later found out was because she wanted to make sure that everyone present was enjoying themselves and feeling welcome. At the end of our conversation, she thanked me for taking the time to talk to her and added that if I ever needed anything, she'd be there to help out. I was holding back my giddy smile, trying to be as normal as possible, as I thanked her for her kindness.

I also vividly remember my upbringing and just how crazy wealthy people live.

Growing up, much of my time was spent attending events and dinners with other businesspeople. Although these were often overwhelming and boring at first, I gradually became more comfortable in such social settings and gained connections of my own.

Meanwhile, I also had access to mentors and peers from well-connected families. This allowed me to gain invaluable advice and knowledge on how to succeed in the professional world. In addition, to no surprise there were times when I was given advantages in certain situations due to my family ties. Doors that may have been closed to others opened up easily for me. This made it easier for me to take advantage of certain opportunities and advance my career. While this is true, it can often be a double-edged sword. Being a nepotism baby can make it hard to prove yourself, as there's always a nagging feeling that you got ahead because of a lucky birthright, but that of course in no ways compares to being born without connections. I think that’s something wealthy people tell their kids so they don’t feel like they didn’t work for anything because even if it’s true you don’t want the people you love to feel that way. Also, there's sometimes an element of guilt present due to knowing that others may not get the same opportunities as you. It can be difficult to separate what you've earned from what was given because of your family ties.

I was also lucky enough to have grown up in a huge mansion in the heart of Los Angeles, with all the bells and whistles that come with it. From the grand entrance walls adorned with family portraits and art to the private screening theaters and sprawling gardens, I'd say it's one of a kind.

The perks of living in a mansion come tenfold; I was on Tik tok the other day and saw people complaining (humble bragging) about the hardships of having a huge home. Growing up in one and having the experience now, it’s actually very common for rich people to portray their life as harder than it is to seem more human. It’s something we’re taught to do when we’re young so when I see it happen now, I’m like eye roll… I know exactly what you’re doing

Anyways I loved my house ! For starters, I loved my sunset pool that overlooks the city. It's the perfect place to enjoy a summer day in California with great views and a built-in Jacuzzi. Of course there's also my personal chef who helps whip up amazing meals for me and my family.

Having house help has made growing up here a breeze. Everyday necessities like laundry, chores and even grocery shopping are taken care of for me, leaving me more time to focus on things that really matter. I could write a list of things I needed, and the next morning everything I wrote would show up just like that, it was actually pretty dope. Not to mention the immense amount of help I get from my parents—they are both incredibly successful, so I'm always surrounded by people who, like them, have achieved incredible success.

More than anything, the best part of living here is that I get whatever I want. Shopping sprees, spa days and extravagant getaways are just a few of the indulgences that come with my lifestyle. I'm truly fortunate to have experienced a life of luxury and opulence—it's definitely given me a greater appreciation for all that I have been blessed with.

Lastly, I’m a big foodie no matter where I go so I’m also going to list some of my fav 5 star restaurants! I’m sure most if not all exist here as well so, if possible I would try them out!

-For seafood lovers, Manresa in Los Gatos, California is sure to tantalize your taste buds. With its commitment to local and sustainable ingredients, the restaurant offers an ever-changing menu that highlights delicious seafood dishes with a Californian flair. From the tantalizing tuna tartare and exquisite abalone dishes to the poached white sturgeon and Dungeness crab preparations, Manresa showcases its tasteful and creative cuisine that people rave about.

-If French cuisine is more to your liking, Alain Ducasse in Paris is sure to transport you to another world of classic French cuisine with a modern twist. During your visit, you'll enjoy dishes such as the butter-poached lobster tail, roasted poultry with Malavallee mushrooms, and crispy duck with crispy crimini mushrooms and creamy potato puree. And be sure to finish your meal with the magnificent desserts like the signature Mont Blanc cake.

-For a top-notch Italian experience, check out Osteria Francescana in Modena, Italy. Here you'll find an unforgettable Italian culinary experience with traditional dishes like beef cheek in Barolo wine, ravioli stuffed with prawns, zucchini flowers and stracciatella, and risotto with king crab. The family-run restaurant has come a long way since it first opened in 1995, achieving true worldwide fame for its simple yet lavish dishes.

-If you're planning a trip to Tokyo, you'll definitely want to make a stop at Sushi Saito. Not only is this two Michelin-starred restaurant applauded for its exquisite sushi and sashimi platters, but it's also home to the world's finest sushi chefs. From the uni and scallop nigiri to the tuna sashimi, each bite here is sure to delight your palate.

-Lastly, don't miss the opportunity to visit Geranium in Copenhagen and sample a unique take on modern Nordic cuisine. Chef Rasmus Kofoed delights guests with dishes that feature locally sourced, seasonal ingredients such as skyr ice cream, geoduck clams, and trout roe. With its innovative approach and bold flavors, Geranium has truly become one of the world’s finest restaurants.

No matter which five-star Michelin restaurant you choose, you can be sure that you'll experience exceptional food and service and leave with lasting memories of your sumptuous meal… but these were the most memorable to me.

Other than that I don’t really know what else to say unless you guys wanna hear specific things. It was a normal life, at least normal to me there because that’s just how I was raised 🥰🥰

[taehoneys]

BAD GUY | EIGHT

+ Jungkook and you both have a secret that could end your relationship.

— Summary: A certain video circulates the school after your big mistake and you never do mistakes, but you did this time… a big one: J e o n J u n g k o o k

— Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Taehyung

— Genre: Drama

— AU(s): College!AU Fratboy!AU 

— Warnings: Fingering, Oral, choking, all kinds of sex, okay? Oh, and sometimes it’s unprotected. Breeding kink (?)

— Chapter Word Count: 4K

— Chapter Note: I am updating this with one eye open, and burning up with a lack-of-sleep fever. I wasn't going to let you guys down anymore!!

PLAYLIST ♪ | MASTERLIST | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN | EIGHT

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

How many times have Jungkook and you crossed paths, unknown to you both?

Once?

On the first day of class, when you two were figuring out the campus layout. Both too busy looking down at your phones to apologize when you bumped shoulders.

Twice?

When you boarded the city bus after class and sat across from him. It was a 15-minute ride into the city. Jungkook entertained himself by watching you play with your loose-knit sweater holes.

Thrice?

At midnight, when the donut shop in the student atrium was the only thing open. Jungkook, Taehyung, Zelo, and Hoseok were crowding by the register, too busy laughing about who knows what. You and Juli brushed past, donuts and 5 lectures of statistics crammed into your mind.

Jungkook would argue that you didn't go completely unnoticed that time. And every time after that, you had his full attention. From when you slipped into his lab to make up for the one you missed in yours, scouted the fraternities, to when you sat in his economics class.

He didn't plan for banter between you two, but it made each boring class fly by. There was only one time he was seriously annoyed. The infamous time he threw the invitation your way. In truth, he had failed his calculus exam a class before (everyone actually failed), and he was too stressed to pay attention during the lecture.

You implied that his sex was all he had to offer. As if that's all he was capable of? He, after all, attends on a scholarship. A scholarship he earned for achieving a 4.0 GPA and being STEM club president in high school. The only thing that made the corner of his mouth lift a little was that you obviously thought a lot about how much sex he was having. Did it bother you?

It had to a little, right? That's why you stepped foot into the frat house with his invitation in hand. Because you were curious. You were trying to get something on him again (except he had no idea how serious you were about this). So he made sure he kept an eye on you. Though things got harder -literally- when alcohol was in his system.

Your taunts left his head spinning. The way your breath hitched before 'Daddy', the smile clear in your voice. It left him with no choice but to push off the couch to find you. Determined, he pushed through the crowd, ignoring the hands that reached out to him.

It was at the bottom of the stairs where he found you. With your hand on the handrail, you raised your eyebrow. Your eyes said you were bored, yet a small smile on your mouth said you were waiting for him. He narrowed his eyes on you, as if saying there was nowhere for you to run. Because you could either go down the stairs into him or up to his bedroom.

Before a word slipped past his lips, you slowly climbed up. Your hands dropped to the bottom of your dress, lifting a little with every step of the floating staircase.

Heat flashed through his body as he viewed your hand slip between your thighs, pushing your panties aside to reveal a glistening center. His mind raced with the possibilities of what you were thinking about.

You giggled, closing your legs and resting against the wall at the top. Jungkook took the opportunity to hurry up the stairs. And when he stumbled to the top, he turned you into the hallway, squeezing your waist harder than he meant to.

As your back bumped into the wall behind you, a dangerous glimmer came across your eyes. Jungkook dropped his gaze from your lips down to where your dress rode up more.

God, your thighs. They looked soft, and he'd do anything to knead them in his hands. Or better, have them squeeze around him as he eats you out. Jungkook's eyes fell back over your face, and he watched the way you press your tongue against your teeth. Busted.

"I have a confession," he told you. "I have thought about choking you."

You trained your eyes on him. Slowly, his hand traveled to brush your hair away before he wrapped it around your neck, carefully pressing his thumb on the side of your throat.

You gave him the middle finger, biting down on your lip.

He chuckled, holding up his own. Except, he made you follow it as he brought it between your legs. Lightly, his middle finger trailed in your folds, the silkiness of your panties making him hard.

Your chin instinctually tilted and when he did it again, he was welcomed with dampness.

"Careful," you moaned with purpose. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd want to fuck me."

"Enough" he whispered, the alcohol on his breath fanning your face. He stumbled closer, but in a way that was hiding you from the people coming to and from the hallway. You two were visible but not visible enough in the dimly lit and smoke filled corridor.

When you looked back at him, it was with feigned innocence. An expression reading I don't know what you're talking about.

"Enough with the act," he clarified. He was fed up with you acting like you were such a good girl when he was sure you were the opposite.

Your fingers danced up his chest, feathering his neck before your hands interlaced behind it.

"Okay," you said in a small voice, tilting your head.

Your approval shocked Jungkook, making him scrunch his eyebrows.

"I'll drop more than my act... " your eyes looked down to his full lips for a moment. "If you get on your knees and worship me."

You hold his burning gaze. The tension growing so thick that Jungkook caved in that moment. He dropped quickly to the ground, and you straightened up like you didn't expect him too.

In truth, it was like Jungkook was waving for your permission. Before you took what you said back, he threw your leg over his shoulder and lifted his head to cup over your mound.

The hitch in your gasp told him you lost all the air in your lungs, making him smile.

"If I didn't know any better..." he muffled against your panties, "I'd say you want to fuck me too."

And not waiting another second more, he swept your panties to the side and ate you out in the hallway of the frat house. He lapped with his tongue eagerly, breathing in harshly through his nose, your aroma making him hungry for more.

You unraveled, shamefully. Although you squeaked protests, you yanked his hair and sunk his head closer. Riding the waves of pleasure, you felt your face heat up, your hair over it not helping.

Jungkook looked up at you with doe eyes, mouth glistening and fingers softening your side. He knew he had you when you drop into his arms. Catching you, he lifted you up where you could envelope your legs around him.

Bringing you into his room, he kicked the door closed. And placing you onto his bed, he continued where he left off. Kissing, sucking, rolling, lapping, rubbing, he did it all with a euphoric chuckle in between. Your moans edged him, increasing from quiet to airy to whiny.

He could listen to them all day.

Giving his mouth a break, he lifted away and let his fingers achieve your climax. When you arched up, his palm roamed down your side.

"Fuck, ___. Did you forget how a good girl's supposed to act?"

He was right, you had forgotten. Your task almost slipping out of your mind.

What he didn't know was when he reached over to play music, you had pulled out your phone from your bra to press record before sliding it under the pillow. And before he noticed, you brought him into the bed to lie down so you could climb on top.

And that video was never supposed to be put out.

- - - - - - - - - - -

When was the last time you had a good night's sleep? We're talking pulse undetectable kind of sleep. Sleep that you wake up feeling as if you've been pulled from the depths of the earth. This sleep was so concerning you were debating whether you needed to be checked for sleep apnea.

It took a lot of effort to open your eyelids, one fluttering after the other as you get used to your muscles again. When your vision clears, the confusion brews.

You question if you ever left Taehyung's room. Then, the room becomes crystal clear, making all the memories hit you at once. The bonfire, Jungkook and Nina, the fight, the kiss, the shower. You almost orgasm for the fifth time --- not really, but it was overwhelming to experience a night's long event in a flash.

Soft humming turns your attention to find Jungkook at his desk. He looks softer today as his oversized cream shirt swallows him. His hand glides across his notebook as he jots down notes from his laptop, his other hand drumming on the surface of the desk. The sun is shining on him, and the way his hair gleams it's chocolate hues makes you want to run your fingers through it again. But what entertains you the most is the golden round frames on his face. Oh, his face. The bruise had gotten worse. You suck in your breath, remembering how fast Taehyung threw his fist across Jungkook's face last night. 

You must've been staring for so long because he picks up his head and glances over. With a double-take, he processes that you're awake.

You wish you were a graceful waker-upper with flowing hair and a radiant face. Instead, you squint as you sit up, and attempt to fix your (his) shirt that's twisted around your body.

"You're a morning person," you mumble.

Jungkook snorts, twisting his pen between his fingers. "Morning? It's already 3." Amused, you watch how he spins it. A smile tugs on your face, recalling how he did that in class. Then his words sink in.

3 p.m.?! Oh, hell. Juli has probably already sent out a search party. It wouldn't have gotten far knowing Yoongi would calm her down, but at the expense of spilling the beans. And that's if videos of you didn't spread. Not to mention, when you walk out of this room, you'd have to face Taehyung.

Fuck, this was worse than a hangover.

Your pulled from your thoughts hearing Jungkook climb onto the bed, you look at him raising an eyebrow. When he gets close enough, you frown, which stretches his smile. As he hovers over your lips, your annoyance melts away. 

"Fucking love that," he murmurs.

"Hm?" you open your eyes.

He scrunches his face cutely, "How you act so tough, until..." He pauses, and you give a wobble of your head to say 'go on'. He takes your lips quicker than you realize.

You stare at him until you turn away to crack a smile. You hate that he's right. Are you that weak for him?

He smirks, pointing his eyebrows at you because yes, yes you were. In response, you take his glasses from his face.

Jungkook lunges at you, kissing you harder. His smile matches yours as you catch up to his excited kisses. Was he waiting for you to wake up this whole time to do that? Your morning kiss turns from fun and cute to serious when he nips your top lip. There's a brief hitch before your lips are tingling, your teeth accidentally clashing, and your losing air, unable to catch it when he keeps diving for more.

"J-Jung-"

Your phone rings loudly, causing you both to untangle. To your surprise, you find it charging on his nightstand. 

Jungkook pants and adjusts himself at his waistband. "Sora found it. It's been going off all morning."

You close your eyes before taking it from the charger. "Juli... she's going to kill me."

Unknown to Jungkook, you were talking more about the relationship than not answering her calls. But you'll have at least the entire drive home to figure out how to explain it to her.

Jungkook lays back against his headboard, holding his hands together, looking over your shoulder. "Nah, she knows you're fine. I texted her."

You freeze. "Texted?"

He looks at you proudly. "That you were safe and sound with your boyfriend."

Your heart skips a beat. 

"And...?" Your voice catches in your throat.

"Wanna find out?" Jungkook unclasps his hands and tugs the phone out of your hand, happily.

"Wait, from my phone? How did you even unlock-"

He holds it in front of your face with a cheesy grin and you watch it unlock. Your almost too stunned by his cleverness.

He's caught up in reading her text that he forgets to read it out loud. You lean in to face her mass texts.

You (Jungkook): I'm fine~~ With my new boyfriend💋 Juli: Bitch wtf?! ! ! Juli: Serious orrr Juli: Hello???? Juli: It's been 2 hours, slut!! You better be having the best sex of your life Juli: Oh, so you can text Yoongi you're okay, but not ME Juli: You have 1 hour😤

"She wasn't wrong," Jungkook rolls out of his mouth and you supress a smile.

"Well-" 

"I don't want to hear it." Jungkook sets the phone aside and hovers over you. You give in and fall back, staring up into his doe eyes. Even though his face is bruised, it's still one of the most attractive faces you know. 

You inhale slowly, feeling the warmth bubbling in your chest. Today, was the first day of your relationship with Jungkook. It made you nervous. What would your days with the once campus playboy be like? How would everyone react? You two were in opposing fraternities, making it so unexpected. Then, there's the girls that would be jealous and who'd wonder why he chose you out of all of them.

Even you know your worth, and couldn't help but wonder what drew Jungkook toward you. If you told him a month ago, he'd go as far as fighting his best friend over you, he'd tell you to go to hell.

Jungkook bends closer, and you feel his soft lips against your neck. 

"Tonight's Meet the Greeks."  You whisper out.

He hums to confirm, the vibrations making you close your eyes. 

"We only have a couple of hours..."

"Perfect." He opens his mouth and kisses where he's at.  

You entangle your fingers in his hair. Not what you meant. 

"Don't you need to set up your presentation?" You try to control your voice, but he's making it hard. 

"It's on my laptop. I saved us some time by having disabled the password so I can just-"

He lifts his hand and mimics opening the laptop quickly, all the while his lips remain working on your neck.

You roll your eyes. That's so him.

You still had a lot to do, like go over your speech, pick-up the flyers, and get ready. But your mind gets hazy with how Jungkook's worked his way up to your ear, gently blowing in it. And the next thing you know, you're going back under the covers.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You turned down Jungkook's offer to walk you to your car. He still had to get ready and you knew all the possibilities of what that trip to your car could turn into. You were enough trouble, you didn't want to add late to a fraternity meeting on the list.

As you walk down the hall, you look up when you hear a door close.  

Who else could be stepping out of the bathroom other than Kim Taehyung? Walking out of Jungkook's room, you knew you had a lot of people to face. He wasn't the first one on the list you wanted to encounter. 

He looks up, hair dripping droplets down. As he put the necklace back around his neck, his muscles flexed under his tight tank, his sweatpants hanging low as he must've quickly thrusted them on after his shower. You suck in air between your teeth because you lost all bragging rights of him.

Taehyung blinks, his eyes flickering anger? Sadness? Resent? Disappointment? Everything all at once?

He lowers his lids as he drops his hands, necklace hanging where it should. "Congratulations."

There was a chance he was being genuine. Yet, you couldn't help make the situation so awkward that the tension physically hurt. "Taehyung," you breathe out shaky, "I'm-"

He shakes his head. Leaning forward with a lopsided smile, he winks. "I said 'congratulations'."

Nodding your head, you lock your lips tight.

He brushes past you, but calls your name when he's a little further away. 

You face him, cheeks flushed.

"Whenever you need me... you can come to me."

He lifts two fingers but instead of holding it by his eye as usual, he holds it over his mouth. He spreads his tongue out between his fingers. Your lips part in shock. 

"I don't even have to be there." Backing away, he holds out his arms in a shrug.

While holding your breath, you watch him chuckle before walking back to his room.

Kim fucking Taehyung.

- - - - - - - - - - -

It had been 2 hours since you left, and Jungkook's high wasn't wearing off. Despite the bruise on his nose extending out to under his left eye, he grinned. He didn't win the fight, yet he felt victorious. He was curious about what rumors people were circulating about that night. People had to be smart enough to speculate it was about a girl. What would their reaction be like when they find out it was over you? And that you chose Jungkook? He throws his head back, elated that you're going around calling him yours. 

After tonight's meeting, he plans on stopping by your place, surprising you with hot food from Yum's food truck, and putting on whatever was new this week. The fall weather was perfect for horror movie so maybe he'll suggest that. And then tomorrow, the two of you could drag yourselves out of bed to study in the library. You'll hate him for it, but all will be forgiven when he gets you your favorite drink from the coffee shop by the entrance. 

Monday, you'll plot how to give Dr. Lim a heart attack, and that might be as easy as walking in holding hands or him stealing kisses in the middle of lecture. Tuesday, he'll leave his frat meeting to go bother yours. Wednesday, he'll crash at your place and woo your roommates with chicken and soju. Thursday, he'll steal you after class and take you downtown until late at night when string lights illuminate the block and music plays loudly on the speakers.

Friday, you'll go to the city's pier and he'll show off on the zipline before taking you on the ferris wheel a thousand times. Saturday, he'll follow you around as you do your errands, even if it was simply doing your laundry for the week, sneaking in butt pinches when he can. Sunday, he'll bring you home and while you grocery shop for the week, he'll introduce you to his neighborhood grandmas (who dote on him), so they can have something new to brag about.

And the next week, you'll do it all over again.

As he walked into the meeting room, his grin set off a round of curious and knowing ooooohs. He bears his teeth and widens his eyes, overwhelmed with how questions are thrown his way. With a wave of his hands he dismisses the comments about Taehyung being thrown out of the fraternity. 

He sets his laptop at the podium and unclenches his jaw. "Nope. I'm not kicking him out of the frat."

Namjoon leans forward and raises his eyebrow, arms crossed across his chest. It's his way of asking Jungkook if he's okay. He nods his way, reassuring him.

"We had a misunderstanding."

Jimin mutters the word in disbelief. "A misunderstanding would be like the time you drank his drink and he told you he had mono, not 'want more?' A misunderstanding is not trying to concave each other's bones."

Namjoon raises his arm to block Jimin's view of Jungkook, trying to get him to calm down. 

Jungkook has to hold onto the podium with both hands. He gulps, "Well, I'm not kicking him out, but it's his choice if he's staying."

Another member speaks up, "Without Taehyung, we don't have a treasurer. We might actually have to cut back. He paid for everything!"

Jungkook tenses up, feeling the stress weigh him down. Taehyung did a lot as treasurer, even paying any difference in what they couldn't fundraise. If they lose him, it could be the fall of the fraternity if they didn't pull their shit together. Jungkook hated that. He hated relying on Taehyung for money. 

He continues, "We might have to actually fundraise-"

"Not leaving the frat,"  a low voice interrupts from behind them. The one who speaks up looks like his face dried and shriveled upon hearing Taehyung. 

Taehyung walks and pulls out the chair with his foot before plopping himself down. "So you can keep being my sugar baby."

"Sorry," he squeaks.

Jungkook and Taehyung lock eyes. Taehyung stares back with empty ones. After a few pauses, his left hand comes up to bring his vape to his mouth. Jungkook flickers his eyes away, quickly recomposing himself. 

"Alright, then. Let's just get tonight over with. You all know what you need to do... tables, chairs, banner, catering, music... I still have to finish the presentation."

The volume increases as the meeting ends, everyone suddenly acting responsible to prepare for tonight.

Jungkook can't help but feel awkward with Taehyung in the room. The two couldn't just brush off the asshole things they said. Jungkook knows he should be the first one to apologize since he threw the first punch, but he couldn't move his two feet. Taehyung was going to leave soon to set up his DJ equipment, so maybe the apology could wait?

Except, Taehyung wasn't leaving. He kept sitting there at the table, vaping, checking his nails, or whistling. At some point, when Jungkook looked up, Taehyung flinched under his stare as if Jungkook's gaze hurt the bruises on his face. Dramatically, he touches them and looks back at his hand in mock terror. Jungkook scoffs, almost pointing to his own nose that he should x-ray.

With a deep sigh, Jungkook mutters an apology.

Taehyung sticks a finger in his ear, looking around the room like he didn't hear him. He yawns, smacking his lips at the end. Looking at Jungkook he raises his eyebrows. Hmm? 

Jungkook shakes his head, tapping the side of his laptop. "I'm sorry."

"So you'll hand her over?" Taehyung doesn't miss a beat.

Before he can frown, Taehyung jumps up from his chair. "Kidding."

"For the record, I'm not sorry for what I said." 

"Good. 'Cause neither am I." Taehyung shrugs.

Jungkook nods, feeling a little bit better. "Now go make sure the microphone and speakers are set up."

"Yes, president." With a salute, Taehyung turns and grabs his jacket off one of the hooks on the wall. The jacket only sees the light of day during events like this since he doesn't regularly wear it.

Jungkook looks back at his laptop, the screensaver running. A video thumbnail appears and he narrows his eyes, recognizing that the video was taken yesterday based on his outfit. He looks around the room to make sure that no one is left. As he presses play, drunken memories slowly return. His eyes widen and he quickly disconnects the HDMI cord from the projector.

"Jungkook!" Someone calls for him from outside the room.

He clears his throat and walks over to help lift the marquee light up letters on the cart.

That video on his laptop was another one that was never supposed to go out. Maybe if Jungkook hadn't left his laptop unattended...

it wouldn't have. 

___________________________________________

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