#Week after that I do my big art history exam + essay

[ralexsol]

Oh my godddd I am not ready for midterms Im barely surviving as it is I stfg

[harrison-abbott]

They didn’t let me used the paint

If it was from one of the

Other classrooms.

Shoo

They said,

Off you go.

They told me I shouldn’t draw pictures

That were based from photographs.

And then hung the better ones

Up on the hallway walls.

When I devised pictures of battle

Scenes from books

They were bemused and couldn’t

Express any positive opinion.

They frowned when I did sketches

Using pencil with outlines.

Portraits of musicians and artists

Were simply not allowed.

And they asked me what was

Wrong with me?

They said my level was in the upper

Class,

So they put me in the lower grade bracket.

They had no clue about the essays

I had to write.

So in the exam I didn’t write anything.

And I still got an A

For the entire course

Because it was somebody else

Marking it from afar.

They failed the entire class I was in.

Then joked about it the next year.

They used to go to art college.

And they didn’t paint or print or draw

Anymore,

Or they would say something like,

“Hmm, I might try that in the future.”

They got so angry with the drear of the

Environment that they would simply

Leave the room and go and get coffee from

The staff room.

They got snarly if you put the dry clay in

With the raw clay

And they passed the girls who did acrylics

Of fruit bowls and their pet animals.

[You could use photographs of

Cats and dogs but

Musical icons and movie stars were

A straight no no.]

The studios were constantly having

People come to check how light they were –

For the students needed strong illumination –

Because the upper parts of the building

Allowed dimness from the rainy clouds

Out yonder, and they were all high up too,

And no doubt many a person wondered

What it would be like to jump from this height

And land with a splat on the concrete

Playground far below.

Some of them had their own families.

One of them was pregnant for a while,

And left. When she came back

Nothing was different.

They churned out the same examples of art

From the ‘big names’ of history from, oh

The 19th and 20th centuries; and they

Weren’t even sure whether they liked

The material anymore.

After they flunked me one of them said

“But it’s okay, I think you’ll be a famous artist one day.”

And she would have been in her

Forties and still kindled that bizarre

Egotistical sentiment that had never gotten her anywhere

And did not fit with anything to do with imagery

Or how to influence people with iconography or graft.

I once made an entire portfolio of portraits

And spent a week doing them in different styles;

Oil paster, watercolour, pencil, and so on.

Flat out they told me the folio would be rejected

By the examination board.

When I eventually left, the other teacher wouldn’t even

Look up at me.

I walked out down the echoey depressed corridor

For the last time, with a thick sense of gladness.

They weren’t the worst department but weren’t far off it.

[honey-coloured-passion]

dream smp high school au and what they'd teach:

i had to get it out of my system but i'm so happy with how these turned out

mr notfound: engineering (the engineering teacher never really teaches and kinda sits in his office but the entire school simps for him so there's always a teacher hanging with him. his curriculum is free form and an easy A but genuinely pretty damn fun)

mr. nap: gym (hes the nice gym teacher who says screw the pacer test and rope climbing and you guys just play basketball after running like 2 laps. he's super gullible and will let anyone sit out for any semblance of pain. that is until the film teacher comes into the gym, then he's a tryhard beating freshman up to make layups on lowered hoops)

mr. wastaken: physics (the coolest class that always does crazy expiriments with large falling objects and questionable usage of dry ice, people always think his experiments are fake but he'll be the first to give a class long lecture on why every single piece of his work is 100% accurate. there was this one incident when he used the engineering teacher to explain torque and it ended with mr. notfound being caught in his arms. there's pictures but he still denys it.)

mr. blade: advanced english lit (mr. blade has no time for freshmen and if he does like a frosh into his class they've gotta he the damn best. his class is based on old literature analysis and storytelling. his favorite unit being greek mythology. most of his assignments aren't just boring essays or stressful discussion. no one truly knows what mr. blades class is like until you've taken it, they're often heard chanting "blood for the blood god" before exams but the principal is yet to do anything about it.)

mr. awsamdude: comp sci/coding (sam is the teacher everyone adores, there's usually at least two people crying in his office before and after school but he always knows what will cheer them up! he tries to work closely with mr. notfound but he's busy with the physics prof so sam has gotten really close with his TA tubbo. they do all kinds of coding competitions and his class is known to be a safe haven for students of all kinds- "coding is for everyone!" he always chants)

ms. nihachu: art (known for the classroom with the best vibes niki insists on dropping the ms. and formalitys. she's the teacher with lofi playing and bean bags and couches in her beautifully decorated classroom. she has an open classroom meaning anyone can come in anytime and she is dedicated to making sure no one eats lunch alone. a couple times a year she goes on a huge rant about loving oneself and the value of not judging others, needless to say everyone adores her - especially the theatre kids as her class is constantly helping them with set design)

mr. soot: music/theatre (does he have a degree? unknown. does he teach anything besides music? couldnt tell ya. mr soot roams the halls during class hours that aren't his one choir period; popping into various classes to pretend to be a student or just all around goof off. his theatre program however, one of the best. he makes the most extravagant plays and musicals with barely any budget. after his show goes on he goes dark for like 2 weeks straight "recuperating" but no one questions because that kind of genius needs resting)

mr. frost: math (ant and red would TOTALLY teach math together and it would be so cute everyone would see them walk in and out of school together and ship them and their classroom would be a safe space for people to come out or even just hangout. ant would be a crazy good teacher who is understanding and not one of those asshole math teachers. he's the one everyone always wants to have haha)

mr. jacobs: film/freshman history (mr jacobs is the freshman heartthrob and senior best friend. he teaches film as history, film as lit, and frosh history - basically the easiest classes, but he makes them the most fun. in his lit classes they watch cartoons and search for literature similarities or historical evidence. in his history classes he goes on grand lectures often standing on tables to reenact his favorite history moments. occasionally he brings in his friends to re create a massive fight in front of all the history classes, it's scuffed but everyone always looks forward to them)

ms. puffy: head counselor (ms puffy is the sweetest soul and often is helping students with everything from their personal lives to college. she assigns the TA's and classrooms and works closely with mr minecraft to make the school as conducive of a learning environment as possible.)

mr. minecraft: the principal, the big man himself, mr fuckin minecraft. (he constantly looks sleep deprived and exhausted but he loves the students and teachers with his whole heart. he takes no shit from annoying parents or asshole students and is known to ban the entitled cruel students from all his favorite teachers classes, leaving them with the worst teachers. usually he can be found telling dream he can't have more money for explosives, begging wilbur to sleep and rest, and telling techno he's gonna have to teach a english 9 class eventually. that and dealing with his new TA's.)

our lovely teacher assistants:

ranboo: english TA (thought he was gonna get art with niki but puffy out him with the blade. originally he was terrified but he's growing on mr. blade with his deep analytical thoughts and similar dry humor. granted- he does have the most work of all the TA's because mr. blade makes him grade all the multiple choice tests, but he's really starting to love the english classroom.)

tubbo: comp sci TA (tubbo had been begging to be sam's TA since freshman year where he took almost all the coding classes in one year. plus, the computer science room is right next to the physics room in the science wing so he can pop over and see tommy all the time. tubbo and sam stay in the computer lab way later than philza should allow but they've made magnificent codes for the school. everytime tubbo points out he's graduating soon sam starts to tear up, but he knows tubbos gonna do big things, he's just gonna miss his goofy TA.)

tommy: physics TA (the pounding philza got on his office door when tommy didn't get wilbur was ground shaking. puffy and philza calmly explained that tommy has a knack for physics if he would just focus and genuinely learn from dream. "big D" as tommy calls him, wasnt jazzed either. their year as TA and teacher started rocky but dream would come to realize that tommy is more talented than he lets on and after speaking to wilbur and puffy he realized there was a damn good reason he was given tommy. he took it upon himself to turn tommy into the best student he could be. and tommy isn't one to back down from a fight. little did he know this year would be the best year yet.)

i'm so happy with this and i actually think i might expand it idkkkk :)))

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

A/n: Hello! Here is part 3 for the Charlie Weasley fic I promised. Sorry this took so long. I promised angst, so I'm giving it. Hope you enjoy!

Another day, another exam, or so it seemed that way at Hogwarts. As May came to a close, and June starts, your O.W.L.s were giving you more stress than you had ever felt. Your future was on the line if you didn't do well with your exams.

Not only were your exams crushing you, your relationship had been rocky for a couple of months. After the valentines day dance with your date, Charlie Weasley, nothing could have made your life better. You were dating your best friend, all of your friends supported you, and you had no tests coming up. In other words, very different from your life currently.

You were still technically dating your best friend, but from long classes and homework that came with them, to Charlie's quiditch practices lasting forever in hopes of winning the house cup, you hadn't had time to spend a moment alone together in what felt like years.

Your friends would always be there for you and you knew that, you cared about them with your whole heart and knew they felt the same way, but they had their own exams and futures just as you did. You would never ask them for anything because you didn't want to be a burden.

And of course, your exams. Your dreams of becoming a curse breaker were very important to you. You wanted nothing more than to help people, on top of finding your brother and protecting hogwarts. You were a natural curse breaker so it only makes sense that you would pursue your passion. However, if you wanted to do that, you needed to not only pass your exams, but exceed the expectations.

With that responsibility came nights on end in the library, studying, preparing and hoping that it would all work out. Your exams, finding your brother, hell, even your relationship with Charlie. You knew how rocky it was and you were devastated by that, but you knew if you two truly wanted to, it would work out, or so you hoped.

So, another night in the library, was your fate. You wanted to be with Charlie, but you knew he had quiditch practice, and you had a potions exam in the morning that you weren't ready for. As you flipped through your book, trying to soak up as much information as you could, you didn't notice a certain redhead sneak behind you.

"Hey baby," you felt the hot breathe on your neck and jumped more than out of your skin.

"Blimey Charlie, you scared me." He chuckled as he pulled a chair beside you.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see you after practice, and I haven't seen you all weekend." He smiled at you, which you couldn't help but smile back.

"I know, its just tomorrow starts like the most stressful week of the year. If I don't do well on my exams, my future can be forgotten. Speaking of, I am not ready for potions tomorrow, hence why I'm here." You smiled as you looked back towards your book.

"Hey, you're gonna do great on your exam because you are great, and smart, and beautiful," Charlie said as you rolled your eyes and laughed. "Its just we haven't seen each other in a while, thought i could keep you company." You sighed.

"Look, I know we haven't been the most talkative lately, but what exactly do you want me to say, you know how important this is to me." He put his hand on yours.

"I know, I get it baby, I do, and after this week, we're gonna celebrate." He said with the biggest grin on his face. Suddenly, Madame Pince came around the corner with the dirtiest look on her face.

"Shh!" You smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry Madam-"

"Shh!!!" You sighed as she walked away. You turned back to charlie.

"You better go, I have to study and don't wanna get kicked out." You smiled at him.

"Okay, but I meant what I said about celebrating." He smiled hugley. You returned the smile, only a fraction of what he had given you. That made his smile falter and eventually he turned and walked back to his dorm.

Eventually you had to except the time as 11pm rolled around and Madam Pince kicked you out of the library. You took the book along with all your other stuff and headed towards your common room.

Once you were in, you sat down near the fireplace and opened your potions book once again, flipping to the section about dragon livers and how they were hard to get.

Eventually, you heard the clock strike 2am and had to call it a night. As you closed your booka nd sat back, looking into the fire, you thought of your life as a cursebreaker, how great it would be, how much you wanted to do it, and what you were willing to do to achieve that goal.

As you stood up and headed towards the stairwell, your way was blocked by charlie, the last person you expected to see, especially at this hour.

"Hey, what're you doing up?" Charlie asked groggy.

"I could ask you the same thing. I was just going to bed." You said as you pushed past him and climbed the stairs. He followed you up.

"I thought you'd be up, I was just checking on you." You turned around as you got to the last step before your dorm and smiled.

"Thats sweet, but go back to bed. Goodnight." You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, then headed into your dorm, falling on your bed and instantly falling asleep.

The next morning, you woke at around 8. Shit. You were late. You quickly got up and dressed faster than ever and ran to the dungeons. You mad either to class just in time, not eating or anything.

"Well, well, Ms. Brooks, you have decided to grace us with your presence, how considerate." Snape sneered at you as you walked to your seat beside Rowan, breathing heavily, across the room, you saw Charlie looking worriedly at you, which was the last thing you wanted in that moment.

Once your potion exam was finished, you walked out of the room, feeling exhausted and like you failed. You started walking to your next exam, which was charms, the easiest of your exams. Soon enough a certain redhead caught up with you.

"Hey, y/n, why were you late today?" You turned to him.

"I over slept, which I dont do, so I didn't realize at which point I had to sprint to make it, which I didnt." You sighed tired lying. "Why?"

"Just wondering, I missed you at breakfast. Did you eat anything?" You smiled softly.

"No, I haven't but its fine, look i have to go to charms and I really don't wanna be late again, see you." Without another word from either of you, you walked away to charms.

At charms, you felt most confident of all classes, which honestly wasn't saying a lot. You finished your exam pretty easily and walked to the great hall, intending on studying until your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam in an hour. Once the clock struck the time to take your next exam, you left the great hall.

Once you reached DADA, you walked in with Tulip and took your seat. You should feel bad, but you just were so glad charlie wasn't there, staring at you like a sorry case. He meant well and you knew it but you just wanted space.

As you finished your final exam of the day, you headed to the library, studying for transfigurations next. When you reached the library, unfortunately you fell into the same pattern as the previous night, except this time no charlie.

When the clock struck midnight, you went to the dorm room and headed straight for bed, not bothering to study anymore. Once your head hit the pillow, you were out.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was shining into your window nicely. It was a good way to wake up honestly. You say up and saw Rowan asleep. You figured you had a few minutes before breakfast so you got up and got dressed.

You and Rowan walked to breakfast while revising your transfiguration knowledge. You didn't feel as bad about it as potions but you also didn't feel as great about it as charms. Walking into the great hall, you found Charlie sitting with his younger brothers. You knew you had to go sit with him.

"Hey y/n, how'd you sleep?" Charlie asked as he saw you sit next to him and his brothers giggled at him, to which he sent a dirty look.

"Um, not the best but ye know. Its whatever." As you sat down you ate the blandest breakfast ever, granola and coffee, it would just have to do for today.

"Are you guys ready for the big game tomorrow night?" Fred asked the table. You looked at him with a confused expression whereas everyone else seemed to understand.

"What game fred?" He turned to you.

"Uh, the house cup game, we are so gonna kick hufflepuffs ass." Ah.

"Right, good luck." Charlie turned to you.

"You'll come right love? What me win?" You smiled as you sipped your coffee.

"Uh yeah, maybe, I might have to study for History of magic but we'll see." Charlie stopped.

"Y/n, you can't miss the game, its only the biggest game of the year. Please come." Ugh when he gave you those puppy dog eyes, you knew you were done for.

"Okay, yes I will go, of course I will." You smiled and kissed his cheek.

As breakfast finished and you and Rowan made your way to transfiguration, you felt confident in the upcoming essay. Going over info with Rowan definitely helped.

Once you were finished with the exam, you went to the great hall, being assigned twenty five inches of parchment for the second half of the exam was not ideal. You were stressed out, but at least you only had care of magical creatures left for the day, something you were sure you'd excel in thanks to charlie.

As you walked down the grounds for your exam, you felt very confident that you'd do well. Your confidence was correctly placed as you walked to the common room to start on you parchment for transfiguration, doing very well on your exam in care of magical creatures.

The real problems didn't start until the following day, charlies big game was today and you hadn't made a dent in your parchment, due to not being able to focus and eventually falling asleep far earlier than you would have liked. Today you had exams in astronomy, history of magic and a regular potions class. You were extremely busy today, it didn't help you woke up 20 minutes before your exam in astronomy so you had to sprint once again to be on time.

Once you were seated in astronomy, your exam begun and you didnt feel very confident. You gave it your all and after about 75 minutes, you were done. You walked out and saw your boyfriend charlie who lit up when he saw you. You walked over to him with a small smile on your face.

"Hey babe, whats up?" You asked him.

"Not much now that your hear, just nervous for later." You looked at his smiling face confused.

"Later?" His smile dropped. You had forgotten about the quitditch match.

"The match that determines who wins the house cup? I thought you were coming, its really important to me." Shit. Right, yeah of course you would go.

"Right, of course I will be there, sorry I'm just tired you know how it is. I will be there, but right now I have to go to potions, ill see you later." Damn, how had you forgotten?

Potions seemed to last forever as Snape lectured on Beatle brains, you swore you were going to die of boredom, all you wanted to do was study for history of magic.

When class was finally dismissed, you headed straight for the library, not having your final exam for an hour and a half. When you sat down in the library, you immediately fell into studying, the time slipping by quickly until it was time to go to your exam.

Arriving to your exam, you set your things down and got ready for it, feeling confident as you had spent a lot of time studying for this. You finished your exam in 65 minutes and headed to the great hall, feeling hungry.

When you got to the great hall and saw what was happening inside, all hunger left your body.

Shit.

Inside, Gryffindor students were celebrating the win of the house cup, you had forgotten the game. You walked in to the great hall and saw Charlie, held up by his teammates above everyone like a king. You smiled at how happy he looked, but when he saw you, its like every drop of happiness was taken from him and you felt your heart break.

Charlie told his team mates to let him down which they did as he made his way over to you, looking hurt and disappointed. You couldn't do much besides stand there and look at him sheepishly.

"Y/n, why didn't you come to the game, you knew how important it was to me and how much I could have used your support." He said loudly, causing those near you to look on at the conversation.

"Charlie, can we go in the hallway?" He looked pissed but didn't object. Once you were away from everyone, you turned to him.

"Charlie, I am so sorry I didn't go to your game, I was in the library studying and the time just got away from me and before I knew it I had to go to my exam and I completely forgot l. I'm so sorry. But you won anyway so you didn't need me at all, cause your just that good." You said with a smile, trying to defuse his anger. It didn't work.

"Y/n, that's not the point, you said you would be there and I wanted you there. You didn't need to study for your exam, you've been studying all week, this is all I asked of you and you couldn't even give me this." As he finished, you felt sorrow drain and anger rise.

"What exactly do you mean I didnt need to study for my exam? I have been studying all week, unlike you, because I care about getting good grades. You know how badly I need to do on my exams to have a future! I didnt go to your match, because I wanted to make sure I did well. I apologized but now your being irrational." He scoffed.

"Irrational? I asked one thing of you, I asked you to attend a quiditch match to support your boyfriend, but apparently if it doesn't benefit you, it doesn't matter, huh is that it?" You were now fully screaming at each other, thank god the hallway was deserted.

"Are you serious? You know maybe if you cared more about your future and grades like I do, you would see where I'm coming from, but all you care about is a God damn match and dragons! No wonder we've been like this for months. You say im selfish, I've done everything for you. I miss one thing and the worlds over to you." Charlie turned away and scoffed.

"You're right, we have been like this for a long time, because we just don't work anymore." You froze. "Y/n, you can't even support your own boyfriend, you care more about tests than anything, this clearly isn't working." You looked at him while a tear rolled down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away. You didn't want to break up with Charlie, God no. But he didn't seem to want to stay together.

"Charlie, it's not like that, you know how stressed I've been, I'm sorry I didn't come to your game, I truly meant to go. I care a lot about my future, but you don't and thats not on me. You can't put this on me, its not just the match, you've been like this ever since the dance, its not only me." More tears rolled down your cheeks as one slid out from his eye.

"Y/n, this just isn't working, I'm sorry." No, God no please.

"Charlie, no, please, don't do this. I swear I-" he cut you off.

"I'm sorry, its already done." He turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in an empty corridor, feeling your heart leaving your soul. You don't know how it happened, you don't know where it went wrong. Was it truly the match? Or was it ever since the day of the dance? Did he even ever like you?

As you stood in that corridor, you felt cold, you felt like you soul left you. You watched him walk away and eventually out of eyesight, thinking about how you would never feel his kiss again, never feel the comfort of his embrace, never feel his love again.

You didn't want this, God no, but your gut told you it had to happen, you just wish it didn't hurt this much. As you wrapped your arms around yourself and sank to the floor with tears on your face, you felt nothing but hollow, wishing the presence of charlie was still there. Wishing he could hold you and tell you he loved you again, as you loved him still.

You didn't know how you were going to go on without him, but you knew one thing for sure, the last thing you cared about was your fucking grades, because you just lost the best thing in your life.

A/n: okay, sorry this took so long, I suck i know! Im sorry this was shitty, I will try to finish the series relatively soon, there will be 2 more parts. I hope you like it, thanks for reading!

[blu-archer]

Forgive?

Right...

I have these moments in writing when I get hit with a sudden realization that I have no idea what relationships are like, so if you notice anything that doesn’t quite add up... it’s because I’m winging the shit out of this

Standardly, there will probably be errors because its a common occurrence with me and I’m just embracing it at this point

anyway..

Sickie: Tae

Caretaker: like Jhope/Jin/Kook 

Cold/Snz based [although I feel like I drifted on things]

AU: Magic and hybrids exist

[mild language]

word count:  4560

*

*

*

*

Jungkook had to force himself to not snap at Taehyung when the witch had decided to follow him into the kitchen after Jungkook had specifically said he was going there to study in silence. He had to bite his tongue when his thought pattern had been abruptly cut off by Taehyung complaining about how his throat hurt or how tired he was.

If he was tired he could go sleep, and leave Jungkook in peace, but that seemed too much to hope for.

Feeling a warm weight press up against his back as he hunched over his notes, Jungkook let out a low growl. The weight didn’t disappear, then again he hadn’t really expected Tae to abide by his study rules when the elder had woken up in a much similar state as their universal favourite cat hybrid had been in just a few days prior. Jungkook felt awful for him sure, and concerned and empathetic, and a huge part of him wanted to just leave his work and hold the elder until he was content, but he had a paper that needed to be written up within two days that he had completely forgotten about as well as continue studying for his art history exam that was the following week. His jaw ached from how much he had been grinding his teeth and his head pounded with the beginnings of what he hoped wouldn’t lead to a migraine. He just couldn’t focus and Tae’s noise making and constant need for cuddles was distracting him from his work.

 “Taehyung.” Jungkook pushed back against the other so that he could relieve himself of the body weight, not bothering to look up from his notes to see the witch giving his signature sick-pout at him. “Can you please stay away from me right now, why don’t you go lie down or something. You are literally one big germ and I can’t afford to get sick again so soon after the last time. Especially not in the middle of my exams. I need to focus.”

 Taehyung sniffed thickly before collapsing into the seat beside the bunny, wiping his nose on the edge of the blanket that he had wrapped around him. He kept staring his boyfriend, coughing miserably only to be ignored. Yet neither of them were willing to complain about the others lack of helpfulness, rather it became a test of who would cave to the others vibes of annoyance first.

Tae was progressively getting more and more whiny, and Jungkook was gnawing down on the back of his pencil to keep from saying anything that he would regret later. He wanted to go lie down with his sick boyfriend just as much as said boyfriend did, but he didn’t have the time nor the ability to risk his health – not when he was so close to being finished with his finals for the year.

 “Kook…” Taehyung coughed softly before hooking his finger in the side pocket of Jungkook’s sweatpants, continuing with a strained voice. “You’ve been here for hours…. It’s cold in the bedroom alone.”

 Jungkook ran a hand through his hair,  giving a harsh tug on his one long, black ear to keep from letting out the frustration that had built in his throat. “Hobi should be back soon and while I’ve been here for hours, Tae, you have successfully made sure that my focus has been on everything except my work. So I’m going to be here for hours more.”

 “Uh..” Taehyung sniffled and pulled away. “Sorry, you’re right. I’ll just…”

 He stood up and shuffled from the kitchen without another word, realising that the bunny hybrid had returned his focus to his laptop and the pages scattered on the table.

*

Jungkook hadn’t even realised how much time had passed by the time he gave in to the aches of hunger in his stomach. In fact, he had thought that Taehyung would have wondered in asking for food or cuddles well before he would have decided to call it a day, but he hadn’t seen or heard of the elder since earlier that morning. He had probably managed to fall asleep, which was good. The witch had definitely been overworking himself to try and improve on what Namjoon and Yoongi had been teaching him, it was almost frustrating to watch Taehyung push and struggle through things that always seemed to come naturally to others. It’s not like he did bad at everything, once he is able to decipher and control his magic properly everything will come to him easier than the common witch or warlock – he was technically a mix of both, he’d be more powerful than a lot of people. He just needed to over come a few things first, and perhaps take a step back from experimentations until he actually had the control needed for it – but Jungkook was willing to stay and support him no matter what methods or route he took to achieve what he wanted. Even if that meant having to deal with a few potion after effects or a mass clean up after a spell went haywire – he’d come back to a flooded apartment more than once, one time Tae had even accidentally made it snow in their home for the three days straight and it had only been fixed through the help of Yoongi.

In any case, he was glad that the elder was resting now. Feeling relieved at how much work he had managed to get finished – he just needed to proofread and edit some sections of his essay before submitting – Jungkook decided to get started on making some food. It was a little early for dinner, but considering how tired he was, and no doubt after a day of teaching with extra class sessions after school Hobi will be too, it was probably for the best that a meal was made earlier so they could go to sleep quicker. Taehyung never really had much of an appetite when he wasn’t feeling well, so it would be much easier to get something in him before it got too dark.

He called Yoongi for the recipe of japchae that elder had shared with himself and Tae a couple of times, which had taken a while to connect and he’d been chewed out for apparently waking the elder – another person succumbed to sickness – but it was worth it. Taehyung had become obsessed with it, claiming that the only thing that could top it was his mother’s food and maybe Jin’s famous bibimbap, so hopefully he’d eat without too much of a fuss. Jungkook felt a little bad at having ignored the elder so blatantly earlier, but on an upside he’d managed to get a huge chunk of his work done, so when Tae woke up Jungkook would just have to make up for his actions earlier. Maybe if he made some of that tea that the witch enjoyed so much as well… and something to watch while laying together. Tae loved dramas. Cuddles and dramas. A solid plan.

He got to work on chopping up various vegetables while he waited for the water for the noodles to boil, his mind flicking through the series of tasks he’d set to make his boyfriend feel better.

 **

 Taehyung had given himself exactly fifteen minutes to cry, which was as long as he’d managed to walk before he’d caved and waved down a taxi to take him the rest of the way to his friends place. From then he had scrambled to try dry his eyes and blow his nose into the handful of tissues he’d stuffed into the deep pockets of his coat before having left. Doing anything to seem remotely okay in case Jin was busy and couldn’t let him stay, he didn’t want the elder witch to feel pressured into keeping him company.

The warmth of the taxi had caused his stuffy nose to start running at an annoying rate and he was regretting not bringing a mask. Although he hadn’t given his actions much thought besides tossing on a sweater and coat, switching his pajama bottoms for a pair of black sweatpants before slipping on sneakers and walking out – he hadn’t even tried to be quiet but Jungkook hadn’t seemed to really care what he did, as long as it wasn’t around him.

Taehyung shook his head, burrowing deeper into his coat and training his eyes on the blurring world outside as he got closer to Jin’s house. He didn’t want to think about how his chest had pained worse than anything he’d felt that morning when Jungkook had told him to leave. A part of him understood, his boyfriend was probably stressed and had just been saying whatever he needed to in the moment, but Taehyung had still been upset by it.

He sniffed deeply, the thick icky sensation in his throat made him want to do nothing more than be back at home, in bed with his boyfriends gently running their hands through his hair or down his back or just being close to him – the bare minimum at least. Anything.

The car gradually pulled to stop. Tae got out and thanked the driver quickly before needing to cough into his sleeve. The wind whipped at him and his nose twinged as the cold air bit at his now heated skin. If anything, his nose had begun to run even more. He took a moment to blow his nose again, dragging out more than a few bothersome itchy sneezes that had left him leaning heavily on the front gate of Jin and Namjoon’s house to catch his breath.

The blowing hadn’t helped much, his head was heavy and congested, and he just wanted to sleep now. He was so tired.

Coughing downwards as he huddled against the cold and welcomed himself into the couples yard to get to their door, he could only hope that he didn’t look as dreadful as he felt. He didn’t want to be a bother. He just wanted to be around someone, and Hoseok was working, Jimin too, and Yoongi had also been booked off sick and probably wouldn’t even be awake – so this was his last resort.

He knocked on the door, praying that either Namjoon had closed the shop early or Jin had already arrived home from the school days exam schedule. It was a bit of a long shot, but he vaguely remembered Namjoon mentioned during that week that Jin hadn’t been needing to stay as late as usual, and some days didn’t even have to go in to help the second nurse at the school. Taehyung rubbed at his nose and knocked again when the wind shook him with a particularly cold breeze, his breath hitched inevitably once more. Defeated, he hovered a single hand in front of his face and waited, panting desperately with furrowed brows.

..hh..hehh..snff.. .. hhh’Heh’HESHH.. HE’ITSH’UHhh… he’hh..hEHH’TSHH’uh..

 “Taehyung?”

 …heH’HEESHH – HEH’EESH’AH!  

He felt a sturdy hand grip his shoulder and pull him out of the wind, into the warm safety of the house. Jin – because it had to be Jin, even if he wasn’t quite aware of his immediate surroundings with how his head was spinning, Namjoon had never been able to craft the level of concern that Jin was able to put into his voice and touch – kept his hand on Taehyung’s arm as the younger had bent forward to catch  another wet double into his hands, even when he made sure to push his front door shut once more.

Breathless and dripping, Tae was led to the familiar family sized couch that Jin had purchased upon moving into their home. He had claimed it was for guests but Tae had always had a suspicion that it was bought in case Namjoon tried to stay up late and ended up falling asleep while working. It was incredibly comfortable. Taehyung couldn’t help but sigh as he dropped into it with a tired cough.

 “Tae… What are you doing here?” Jin ran a hand through the young witches hair, carefully running his eyes down the mans form as if he could figure out what was happening through sight alone. “Joonie messaged me saying he was working alone today… I would have thought that meant you’d be at home?”

 Taehyung sniffled thickly, blinking away fresh tears before he grabbed the last few of his unused tissues and blew his nose once more. It was beginning to pulse in time with his throbbing headache, and he just knew that it was probably all red from its recent activity. It wouldn’t be much longer before his blowing would make his skin raw.

 He scrunched a tissue into his fist to wipe at his nose gently before he managed to give Jin his full attention. Thankfully the man was patient. “I just.. had to leave. *snf*.  Jungkook needed… space. I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind me coming over..”

 Jin’s lips pursed tightly. The congestion was sinking into Tae’s words in a way that made him think the younger witch definitely shouldn’t have left home. He ran a hand over Taehyung’s cheek to swipe away a stray tear that had slipped out and then leaned in closer. “Well it’s a good thing I love having company. I was just about to go fetch Namjoon, but how about I ask Seokie to do that for me and we can drink some tea and watch a movie.. hmm?”

 Taehyung nodded, letting Jin tug off his coat and shoes before following the momentum from Jin’s hands – pushing him to lie down on the soft couch with the gentle promise of ‘being right back’.

The elder retrieved a pink, fluffy blanket that he tucked around Tae’s body, ‘like a warm hug’, Tae had smiled and pulled it closer to embrace its warmth. Vaguely Taehyung could hear Jin on the phone, once the man had moved to the kitchen to fix up the tea, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus completely on what was being said. His mind was mostly being entertained by the hopes of sleep and trying not to sneeze again, but a part of him was aware that it was probably Hoseok on the other side of the phone. He smothered a cough into the blanket, the force shaking him and paining his throat. He would have groaned if he didn’t know that it would just hurt him more. Just a little more time, and then Hobi will be there with him. That’s all he could wish for.

 He was woken up by a gentle hand shaking his shoulder, and upon blinking his eyes into the light of the afternoon sun,  immediately crumpled forward with  a harsh ‘hehH’ESHEW!’.

 “Bless you…” Jin set down the cup he had been holding to help pull Taehyung to sit upright without the blanket falling from around his shoulders. “I let you sleep for a little bit, because you looked like you needed it, but I want you to drink and eat something too.”

 “mm ‘ot hungry.” He mumbled, letting out a yawn that shifted into an irritated cough that grated at his throat. He took a hold of the cup Jin offer, holding it through the material of the blanket and pulling it closer to rest on his chest.

 “It’s not a lot,” Jin promised. “Just some crackers with your tea.. It’s not negotiable, unfortunately.”

 Jin sat next to him with his own mug of tea and a plate a crackers’ settled on his lap, pointedly being pushed closer to Taehyung. “Tae…. I love having you here, but I want to help if you need me too. Did Jungkook really tell you to leave?”

 Tae hesitated, sniffling thickly as the steam from his tea worked its way to his sinuses. “Not exactly, but… I didn’t feel.. okay.”

 He spoke about how he had woken up sick and what he had been feeling, as well as all of the things Jungkook had been going through with his studies – breezing over vaguely of what had been said that morning – then finally speaking about his decision and plan to come where he would be accepted. Jin listened intently, every so often handing him a tissue or a cracker, depending on what he felt Tae needed more as he snuffled through his words. He didn’t say anything either, just letting Tae lean into him and occasional letting out a soft grunt of disapproval – mainly towards Jungkook’s actions and Tae having thought walking would be a good idea.    

 “I’ll put on a movie, okay?” Jin said softly after Taehyung had admitted to ‘just wanted someone to hold him’ and ‘be there’. If he needed comfort then Jin would provide, he just couldn’t believe Jungkook had shunned his boyfriend. Even if the bunny had needed to focus, he usually always had time to spare for Taehyung. “Eat a few more and then we can finish our tea and get comfortable. Hobi should be coming here soon too, so you can look forward to that.”

 Taehyung couldn’t stop a small smile tugging at his lips. While Jungkook gave great cuddles, and Jin gave amazing hugs, there was an atmosphere so uniquely ‘Hoseok’ that made Taehyung crave him. He was warm. There was no better way to describe it. His presence was enough to be satisfying.

For now, he made do with his friend. Letting himself be pulled down to rest on Jin’s chest once he’d finished his drink. The elder had set a box of tissues within grabbing range so that Tae could catch each flurry of damp, heavy sneezes into the soft tissue – his nose growing brighter with each passing minute until he had merely lay his head onto Jin’s lap and held the tissue in a ball against his nose, fighting his eyes to stay open and watch the action movie Jin had found, but eventually falling to darkness.    

  It hadn’t taken long for Hoseok to leave work – calling his afterschool class to a close earlier than usual so that he could pick up Namjoon and go see Taehyung. Jin hadn’t told him much of anything, mostly just explained that Tae was sick and Jungkook had said some stuff that had hurt his feelings – which was absurd because those two never intentionally hurt each other, especially not with words. It was one of the things he had envied about them, how well they worked. His next concern was that Tae was sick and had still left the house. His homebody boyfriend felt better leaving their home because he didn’t want to be around Jungkook?

Nothing was making sense.

Namjoon had had to tell him to slow down three times before they’d finally reached his stylish home. Hoseok had left his car parked partially in the street and had moved past Namjoon to get into the house first. He’d swung the door open so hard it had slammed into the wall, but thankfully the only reaction that was given was Jin’s startled yell and Namjoon’s complaints about Hobi breaking things. Taehyung was asleep on the chair with his head nestled int Jin’s lap and soft congested snores sounded from him. Thank goodness he hadn’t been disturbed.

 “Sorry.” Hoseok murmured as he moved to kneel by his boyfriend. Jin’s face softening a little bit. “Is he alright… he looks like he has a fever…”

 “I think he does.” Jin agreed, stroking his fingers through Tae’s hair. “He’s been getting warmer, but other than that I think he just wanted someone to be with him. Jungkook had apparently told him that Tae was distracting him from work and that he needed to stay away because he was sick? Or something? I don’t know, it seemed like a small thing.”

 “It’s not.” Hoseok said, his voice hardening.

Jungkook had told Tae to stay away from him because he was sick? The same Jungkook that would cling to either of them every chance he got whenever he possibly could? Not to mention that he said that when Tae was clearly not well…

A heat spread through him that made his jaw clench.

“I should probably get him home.”

 “I didn’t give him any medication, but just take some back with you. Joonie?” Namjoon stepped behind the chair and lent down to lay peck on Jin’s lips and cheek. “Hey… can you fetch a few immunity boosting potions, as well as some of the cold and flu  ones that I made earlier?”

 “Sure, I’ll put a variety in. I have some balms and ointments that will help with any fevers or raw area’s.” Namjoon added before trailing off further into the house, muttering about what else could help.

 Jin smiled with reassurance and Hobi let out a sigh as he moved to retrieve a balled up tissue from Tae’s hand. . “He’s fine. The worst of it really was that he seemed lonely but was afraid of being a bother, which is unlike Tae.”  

 “I know. I just – Sorry.” He stood up abruptly as he searched his pockets for his phone that had started blaring. Tae shifted in his sleep and Hoseok scrambled to find it faster, answering as soon as it was out. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to speak before Jungkook started rambling on in a state of panic.

 “I don’t know where he is! He was here and then I thought he was asleep but he’s not asleep because he’s not here! And he’s not answering his phone, please tell me you have him?!”

 That heat from before amplified. If Jungkook was going to be sounding that scared of Taehyung not being around then why the hell did he send him away in the first place?

“You asshole.” Hoseok hissed, then lowered his pitch to avoid waking the sick witch. “You basically told him that he was being a pest! What the hell is wrong with you Jungkook? You didn’t even know that he left until now? He tried to walk to Jin and Namjoon’s place. In this cold weather, because you couldn’t be bothered to spare an hour with him.”

 “I-I didn’t realise –“

 “You didn’t realise?  You have been dating him longer than I have Jungkook, you should have fucking realised! What the hell is wrong with you?”

 “I’m sorry!”

 Hoseok bit his tongue as he heard the choking tears in the hybrids voice. He shouldn’t be snapping at Jungkook. He shouldn’t be picking a side. They were supposed to be open and honest and understanding with one another. Clearly something had gone wrong, but he had a feeling that Jungkook understood his mistake, even if it wasn’t understood as quick as it should have been.

 “Okay. Okay, I’m going to bring him home. He’s safe – just… he looks plain exhausted.”

 “I’m sorry..” Jungkook repeated softly. “I didn’t think he’d leave.”

 Hobi took a deep breath. “We’ll see you at home Jungkook… Just hang on there.”

**

  Taehyung had woken up about halfway home, coughing deeply into the blanket that Jin had lent to them. It was harsh and crackly and overall, just didn’t sound good. Hoseok had sped up just a bit to get him home faster, so that they could get him medicated and in bed… maybe a bath would help.

 “Sleep well, Baby?”

 He got a rough, undecipherable mumble and Tae struggled to push himself upright from where he was lying down in the back seat.

 “We’ll be home soon.” He promised, watching Tae rub at his eyes and then his nose in the rear-view mirror. Then added. “Jungkook was worried about you.”

 “He told me to.. to le-ehh hh’-ve…. hh’HE’HEITCHh… HUH’HRESHH’uhh…ugh.”

 “Bless. And I know, I don’t think he realised the impact his words had.”

 Tae sniffled and rubbed his nose with the edge of the blanket. “He’s jus’ stressed. I over reacted,”

 “I don’t think you over reacted.” Hobi answered honestly, that heat from earlier still present even after he’d tried to stamp it down. “He said something wrong when you needed him, perhaps if it happens again then it might be wise to talk about it instead of leaving without telling anyone though, or at least take your phone with you. But the three of us are in this together, neither of us like seeing you sick and Jungkook shouldn’t have taken his stressors out on you.”

  He didn’t get an answer. Taehyung just stared blankly out of the window at the dying light out the world until they pulled up at their complex.

After wrapping him tightly in the blanket and draping his coat over Tae’s shoulders, they began their climb to home.  Hoseok kept a steady arm around the witch and had to catch him once when Tae had snapped forward into a bout of surprise sneezes that had almost caused him to slip up the stairs when heading to their apartment. They went a bit slower after that. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see Jungkook waiting outside the door for them. He had been perched on the ground with his back to the door chatting politely to their neighbours six year old daughter, and by chatting the conversation had probably mostly been about wanting to play with Jungkook’s floppy ears and asking when he could teach her to draw ‘like a real artist’ again. He didn’t seem as invested as he usually was, and after having glanced up and seen his boyfriends, had almost burst into tears. Taehyung had actually started crying, both choking out apologises.

Hobi smiled. They’d all be fine it seemed. He greeted the child and encouraged her to get out of the cold, waiting for her to be inside before he opened their door and gently tugged his boyfriends inside. The smell hit him first and he sent Jungkook a questioning look.

 “Did you make food?”

 “Yeah,” he swiped at his face with a sniff. “I thought if I made japchae then Tae would want to eat something.”

 The news only caused the witch to let out a sob that had him coughing for breath.

 “Tae, baby… please calm down, you’re going to make yourself worse…” Hoseok laid a kiss to his burning cheek and reached to squeeze Jungkook’s hand. “Why don’t you and Kookie go take a bath? I’ll fetch you some water to drink and get the food reheated, okay?”

 “Will you join us?”

 “I think you two should be alone for a bit, I want to read over everything that Joon and Jin gave us for you.” The dancer placed kiss gently on the tip of Taehyung’s nose, grinning widely as the witch’s tears were halted with a hitched breath. “Don’t take too long though, I missed you both so much today. These extra classes are going to kill me.”

 Hoseok took a moment outside the bathroom door to listen to his boyfriends whisper soft words to one another, a flurry of apologies made a second appearance from Tae but was cut off abruptly. Hoseok took that as his cue to get everything ready for when they got out.

Everything would be worked out by tomorrow and yet he was definitely still going to be leaving his classes early to join in on whatever mess was going to be happening here. Taehyung had never learnt the ability to not share anything in his life.

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 8

PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN Chapter 8 - The Potions Hero

Penny

It was about a month before we would have to take our first-ever final exams. I was so excited as I was good all year, did all my homework plus some extra credit work in Potions, of course, and I just couldn't help to feel prepared.

Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for my friends who were oblivious to the fact that the final exams were coming. I have been warning them for about 2 weeks now but the replies I got back, made me think that they were going to be in big trouble if I don't nag them even further.

“Oh, come off it Penny, we still have plenty of time.” Tonks said to me one morning as I tried to slip the final exams into our conversation as we were meeting our friends for breakfast in the Great Hall.

“Penny, you are overreacting.” Tulip rolled her eyes over dinner the next day. “We have plenty of time and besides we are not doing so horrible at school that we ought to be worried about exams! How much harder than a few essays can they be?” She sounded really confident.

Charlie and Nova gave me the most trouble as I could hardly catch them as they spent more and more time outside. Nova kept relying on my notes more and more and when I heard that they are thinking of skipping a History of Magic lesson to go to Hagrid's I flipped.

You should have seen the look on their faces when the whole Courtyard turned in our direction as I was practically yelling at them that they simply can't be that irresponsible.

Nova's mouth was open and I could see guilt in her eyes and Charlie blushed so much that he looked like a tomato with red hair.

After I've threatened them that I will not lend them my notes for the final exams, they finally started to listen to me and now I take every opportunity we spent together as a group to remind them of the exams.

—

One morning, when I woke up and Tonks' bed was already empty and nobody was outside the Hufflepuff Common Room entrance and nobody was at the Courtyard or in the Great Hall, I was beginning to think that they have started avoiding me for nagging them so much.

Then an idea came to my mind that was almost impossible to believe. Could they be in the Library? I thought incredulously. I grabbed a quick bite in the Great Hall and hurried to the Library.

I've made sure to be as quiet as possible entering as Madam Pince would have my head if I spoke a word too loud. I looked around and at first thought that they weren't there after all. But then I spotted 2 redheads at the table in the far back. Charlie and Tulip were sitting with Nova and Tonks. They were all facing the bookshelves, their heads stuck together.

For a moment I felt proud as I thought they were finally studying but as I got closer...

“Okay, so what's the plan?” I heard Tonks whisper to the best of her ability.

“I reckon we should just ask her nicely.” Nova said, scratching her head.

“Are you mental, did you forget how she yelled at us in the Courtyard for being irresponsible wanting to skip History of Magic that one time, because I haven't? Her voice is still haunting me at night.” Charlie's voice shook a little.

“Well, what else can we do? It's not like we can force her?” Tulip said and gasped as if she couldn't believe what she just said.

“We can try!” Tonks already warmed up to the idea.

“Tonks, don't be ridiculous! Penny is our friend.”

“Shhhh!” Madam Pince shushed them as Charlie said the last sentence a little too loud for her taste.

“I am confident that if we apologize to her and ask her nicely, she would love to help us.” Nova felt confident.

“Hi guys, what are we whispering about?” I decided to play a little joke on them and stuck my head next to Tulip's who was on the left side of the head-sticking group.

“Ahhh!” There was a loud bang as they all jumped up and Tonks hit her knee at the table, their hands on their chests as I scared the living ghosts out of them.

I had to put both hands over my mouth not to laugh too loudly but it was in vain as Madam Pince was next to our table so quickly as if she has apparated.

“You either leave right now using your legs,” she glared at every single one of us, whispering, “or I will drag you out by your loud mouths.” She crossed her hands on her chest and pointed her long finger to the door.

I followed the lot to the Courtyard, them looking quite embarrassed but for me, this was the pranks I wanted to pull on people, not the ones Tulip, Tonks and Jae usually had in mind. Mine at least won't get us to lose House Points.

Tulip, Tonks, and I sat on the bench while Charlie and Nova sat on the ground in front of us.

“Soooo,” Tonks looked as if she swallowed a chili pepper, “how much have you heard?”

“You are planning something that might or might not be forced upon me.” I giggled, still amused, their faces frightened.

“Well,” started Nova, while scratching the back of her head. I bet she got that from Charlie, as he did it every time he was too shy to say something, “it has dawned on us that the final exams are approaching.”

“Oh, really?” I responded in a sarcastic tone.

“And we were,” Charlie continued, doing the same scratching motion as Nova, “we were wondering if you could help us study for our Potions exam?” He said as quickly as his tongue allowed him.

“Just for the Potions exam?” I was skepticalabout that.

“Yeah, we were talking and we are doing pretty good with Herbology. We are already doomed in History of Magic as even you haven't been taking notes. Nova will help us with Transfiguration and Charms, while Charlie helps us with Flying and Defense Against the Dark Arts and I will lend everybody my notes and hand when it comes to Astronomy.” Tulip revealed their plan.

“So you have all been studying?” I couldn't believe that they actually had a plan.

“Of course, we have, Penny!” Charlie exclaimed. “You've nagged us so much that we didn't have a choice, now did we.” He chuckled.

“As much as we don't want to admit it, we do care for school and our exams, Penny.” Tonks grinned.

“Tonks and I have been studying Herbology and Astronomy in the Kitchens for the past week.” Said Tulip proudly.

“That's what you've been doing in the Kitchens?” I couldn't help but be startled.

“Mischief isn't the only thing we do, you know.” Tonks sounded offended.

“Yeah and Hagrid has been helping Nova and I study for the Defence Against the Dark Arts. We studied so many beasts this year and he knows so much about them. That's why we were planning to go to Hagrid's the day you yelled at us at this exact place.” Charlie pointed a finger behind him to the middle of the Courtyard.

“You weren't going to go to Hagrid's to ask him again if he can take you into the Forest?” I asked incredulously.

“Nah, we gave up on that. It's almost the end of the year and he did promise to do it once we are in our Second Year so we decided to give it a rest. Make him forget about it a little.” Nova grinned.

“Sure!” Tonks and Tulip replied at the same time, giggling.

“Wow, I didn't think you were taking me so seriously.” My hand on my mouth as I couldn't help but be astonished at their achievements. “You even wanted to skip a class to study for another class.” I extended my arms at Nova and Charlie, proudly.

“We got your hint, Penny.” Chuckled Tulip.

“So will you help us study Potions?” Asked Tonks, now all 4 of them looking at me like Fang when he wanted scratches.

“Of course I will help you study!” I exclaimed. “I would help you lot even if you didn't start yet.” I admitted and they squeezed me into a tight hug.

We decided that we would start the next day and I stayed up all night to make them each notes on the most important things that I was confident are going to be on the exam. I also made them sheets that would help them remember potion ingredients and their most common uses. As for myself, I've made a plan what I would teach them, how, and where.

Obviously, Madam Pince wouldn't let us in the Library all together probably until the next year. So, in the morning when we all met for breakfast and I gave them everything I've prepared for them, we decided that staying at one of the tables in the Great Hall was going to be our best option.

After a few days, Nova and Tulip were doing the best. Nova had all the potion ingredients for all 3 major potions we worked on this year memorized. Tulip exceeded my expectations as she gave me not 7 but 8 reasons why Firecrab cauldrons are not as important as one might think. As much as Tonks was trying she still couldn't memorize the right ingredient sequence for the Sleeping Draught and Charlie was struggling to understand why do we need 5 reasons why a potion has to be stirred in a specific direction and why the other way around could be very harmful.

—

Later that week we got our Final Exam Schedule.

I've read it aloud:

“Monday – morning Charms theoretical exam, afternoon Charms individual practical exam

Tuesday – morning Herbology exam, afternoon History of Magic exam

Wednesday – morning Flying practical exam, midnight Astronomy practical exam

Thursday – no exams

Friday – morning Potions theoretical exam, afternoon Potions practical exam

Monday – morning Defense Against the Dark Arts theoretical exam, afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts individual practical exam

Tuesday – morning Transfiguration theoretical exam, afternoon Transfiguration practical exam”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exam?” Repeated Charlie. “We didn't even do any practical spell work in class!” He felt offended.

“I guess Rakepick assumed we would learn them on our own.” Nova shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, to be honest, we did learn some of the same spells in Charms, haven't we.” I thought out loud.

“I guess.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “It's nice to know that we have until Friday to study Potions, though.” His mood recovered.

—

I have to say that I was very proud of every single one of my friends as they were all fairly prepared for their Potions exam on Thursday night. We did have to shake Tulip awake a couple of times when her eyes started to shut as she was repeating different kinds of cauldrons in her head.

Of course, our study group didn't go unnoticed and by Wednesday afternoon Murphy, Jae, and Andre, who stopped to talk to Tulip and Nova as he was a Ravenclaw, joined.

On Friday, nobody except me and Charlie, who was obviously a nervous eater, ate breakfast as others rather nibbled on their nails, lips, or mumbled words to themselves as they were revising before the hardly anticipating Potions exam.

Nobody wanted to talk about the theoretical part, they saw it as a waste of time as they wanted to prepare themselves for the practical part of the exam. I was leaning on my hand in the Great Hall, looking at them as I was listening to their murmurs, counting on fingers, and rubbing the sides of their foreheads. I knew I had amazing and smart friends but I couldn't help but smile as I was so proud of how much effort they actually put into their least favorite subject.

[jeongi]

glasses-clad boy (m) | knj

(gif by: lilac panther)

↣ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | namjoon x reader

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↣ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 | college au. smut. fluff.

↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, multiple orgasms, very soft and fluffy unprotected sex with a very in love namjoon (wrap it up kids)

↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You weren’t sure how Hoseok had persuaded you into actually letting Namjoon tutor you but there you were, waiting for a certain glasses-clad boy to show up.

This was a request and if you’d like to see your own come to life, please shoot me an ask, here. They’re always welcome and greatly appreciated! :)

     Tethering the pencil between your teeth, your brows furrowed as your eyes scanned the words of your essay on a blindingly bright computer screen, over and over again. You gulped, removing the pencil from your mouth as you silently cursed yourself for not listening to Hoseok when he insisted you attend the study groups leading up to this midterm paper. 

“Ah, shit.” You mumbled under your breath, eyes blinking at the words you had written. The letters danced back at you in a displayed taunt, trying to persuade you into second-guessing yourself. Your mind blanked from any content you had tried to study alone, the loose leaf paper laid in front of you—jotted with your brain vomit but proferring itself useless. The library you were sat in was as distracting as it was quiet, the clitter-clatter of other students typing away confidently let you know that they clearly had more knowledge over what they were doing far greater than yourself. You tried to prepare to write for this paper, you really did but that new Netflix show was just so good— you had to finish the first season...perhaps the second as well. 

Truthfully, you were lazy and most of the time all you wanted to do was sleep or mindlessly scroll through hours of social media, falling into the pit of all your insecurities caused by people living a much more pleasant life than you. Writing only came to you when you had the surging inspiration to do it; you were useless otherwise. And now, there you were, with less than a week to write this damn essay as the tick of the second's hand echoed noisily from the clock that stood just above the fireplace a few feet behind you.

Straightening your spine, you twirled your pencil between your index and middle finger before clearing your throat. 

You read your words again. 

“In the end, we reach the mirage and it becomes our reality. The fearsome desert becomes the ocean with our blood, sweat and tears. But why do humans often let fear come in between happiness? In Socrates words’, ‘I was afraid that by observing objects with my eyes and trying to comprehend them with each of my other senses I might blind my soul altogether.’ We treat—”

Your immersion deflected as your peripheral caught a glance of a shadow walk past you. You stiffened, letting the gust of air that followed the figure’s arrival hit you with a scent of white musk cologne. Shuddering as the chill hit your spine, the second floor of the library seemed to have dropped ten degrees lower in temperature. You tried to will yourself from not looking up, putting your efforts to concentrate on the words blinking back at you but you couldn’t help but give in to your curious brain as you looked up past your laptop to see none other than Kim Namjoon occupy the empty table right across from yours. 

The open-planned sky roof of the some, hundred-year-old building that was your university’s library, allowed the autumn sunlight to bounce off Namjoon’s honey locks. He raked his slender fingers through them while a free hand dug through the pockets of his sweatpants-clad legs in search of his earphones. He was faced away from you, gently lifting the black, Herschel crossbody bag off his shoulder, granting you a delightful visual of the rear of his grey t-shirt stretching around his shoulder blades. Placing the bag on the table, he opened the flap of his bag to pull out his own laptop before retracting the chair away from the table to finally have a seat facing towards you. You followed his movements, eyes trailing down to his exposed, tanned arm when they tensely flexed as he coolly lifted his laptop screen open and snuggly secured an earbud into his right ear. 

You knew of Kim Namjoon from various different outlets— the first being from attending the same philosophy class as him. He had written a breathtaking piece on what it truly meant to live a fulfilled life of happiness in a time where social media tainted the authenticity of people—linking it to some of Plato’s passages. It earned him the title as Professor Jinhwan’s favourite student and it was the first time you took notice to him as you listened to his natural vibrato voice when he read it out loud in class—that was a year ago.

It wasn’t until your dear friend, Hoseok, started mentioning his name where you put two and two together, realizing that it was indeed, that Namjoon that he had been talking about. They were friends long before you and Hoseok had even met, through multiple summers of interning at some software brand named Big Hit. It always struck you as odd that Namjoon, a software engineering student would choose something as intricate as philosophy to study as a minor. Granted, you also took philosophy as a minor, however; it would have been dotish of you to not take it alongside your History major—they went hand in hand. Namjoon was a completely different story. You’d never really talked to him and you were certain he only knew of your existence from the brief mentions of your name Hoseok would drop but you doubted he cared for anything beyond that tidbit of information. 

Namjoon was very good looking, that was no secret, as you’d witness the number of girls that would swoon just from the sight of him. It certainly didn’t help that he was incredibly intelligent, aiding the fact that girls would drop to their knees in front of him in a heartbeat if given the chance. Before even becoming acquainted with Hoseok, you heard through hushed mumbles floating around campus that Kim Namjoon—the boy who came in the top 1% in the entirety of South Korea after taking the CSAT exams—was going to be attending the same university as you. But, moving forward with your friendship with Hoseok, you learned that Namjoon wasn’t much of a lady pleaser anyway. He preferred to have his face stuffed between the pages of a book rather than the legs of a woman. It was almost endearing if you didn’t think it was also a shame that he would waste such a pretty face. Even you had to admit it to yourself that the man was a sight to behold, as you stared at him, seated across from where he assiduously typed away on his laptop—god, you were the creepiest person alive.   

You peered past your screen as you observed the way Namjoon’s chin jutted out in deep concentration as he nimbly worked away on what you would assume to be the same paper as you or maybe it was a project from one of his engineering courses—you didn’t know. When his movements suddenly stopped, your eyes travelled back up to the black frames atop his nose, only to meet his own curious gaze. Your eyes widened, snapped away from his piercing stare. A hand came up to shadow your face as your head dropped down to your lap. You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment, fingernails digging into your palms because he definitely saw you staring and the thought of it alone made you have no doubt in your mind that your face was tomato red by now. Snagging your bottom lip between your teeth, you rearranged yourself to focus back on finishing the remainder of your essay, not daring to look back up as you felt the burn of the glasses-clad boy’s gaze remained stoic upon you. 

     “I’m a fatuous pillock that will never be able to pass this damn class.” You groaned, your breath coming out in crystal clouds as you walked beside Hoseok. The pair of you made your way to your favourite hot pot restaurant amongst the chilly, crisp autumn air. You let your head fall back, allowing the fresh breeze of November hit your exposed face. It was a momentary distraction from how much you’d been blundering the classes this semester, overwhelmed by the amount of work you had to do every week. 

The same blow of wind shook the trees to let out the softest of rustles—almost as if they were nature’s own maracas cheering you on for being able to get out of bed that morning in the first place. You were wrapped head to toe, a chestnut peacoat hugging your curves with a maroon scarf so thick, you looked as if you were drowning in your own attire. Thankfully, the walk to the restaurant was short from campus and the food was much-needed comfort after being held hostage to the blinding screen of your laptop— with the added luxury of Hoseok offering to pay for your meal. He truly was the only one who knew exactly what you needed before you even did. You had met Hoseok your first year in college, three years ago, sharing the same shift at the on-campus coffee shop (that you two had long since abandoned), and coincidentally, the same art history class. Forced to spend most of your days together, it was foreseeable that you would grow close but still unexpected that you’d practically be joined by the hip before the first semester had even ended. You cherished your relationship with Hoseok so much, regardless of him often calling you out on your bullshit rather than smothering you with love. In a way, it’d be a strange concept for him to show nothing but endless love, the thought making you shudder in distaste.

“I don’t think that’s anyone’s fault but yours,” Hoseok said with a shrug, causing any adoration you had for him to flush down the drain in an instant. You frowned, not having the strength to bicker with him because he wasn’t exactly wrong. Rolling your head down to your feet, you watched how the orange-hued leaves crunched underneath your black timberlands, your moment with nature once again being disrupted. “I asked you to come to the study groups weeks ago. You just didn’t listen to me.” He tutted, crossing his arms over his chest but you convinced yourself he did it because he was cold and not actually disappointed in you, the blithering idiot only sporting a long-sleeved shirt with a pair of skinny jeans.

“I did go.” You said, hands flying up to your touque to rearrange the plush wool fabric as it shifted with a particularly sharp snap of wind. 

“Yeah, once,” he shot back, arms tightening their hold around his own chest and you nearly offered to give him your scarf but the boy loved to argue with you and you suddenly wanted to watch him suffer. “But you left midway.” 

“Because there were too many people there,” your voice grew exasperated. “You know I work best alone.”

“No, you just enjoy locking yourself up in that god awful dungeon you call a room so you can avoid socializing at all costs—jeez, _____, did you forget the number of times I’ve had to break into your apartment when Yeona wasn’t there, just to see if you were still alive?” You tucked your face further into the safety of your engulfing scarf, trying to hide the tint of rose that surely painted the apples of your cheeks from sheer chagrin. 

Hoseok narrowed his eyes at you, “Speaking of studying,” He began, “Namjoon asked me about you the other day.” You tensed in your steps, the image of him catching your ogling stare resurfacing in your mind and you almost wailed in humiliation.

“Oh? Why?” You tried to remain a steady composure, voice wavering the slightest but thankfully, Hoseok didn’t take notice.

“Well, he just asked about you since you’re in the same philosophy class as him and conveniently, a good friend of mine,” he paused, “and when I told him you struggled with your midterm paper, he offered to help with your final.” You halted in your steps, Hoseok following suit before raising his hands up in defence when he noticed the look of pure mortification creased into your features.

“You did what?” you barked.

“Just hear me out!” Hoseok piped, gripping your shoulders as he pulled you forward. “The guy is incredibly smart and he volunteered to help so think of it as an easy A on your final.” Your eyes rolled so far back, you felt the strain of your optic nerve pull as a whine fell from your lips.

You were horrified as venom dripped from your words at what your friend had done. “Hoseok, you arrant ass.” He did nothing but beam towards you, a hint of mischief swimming in his eyes— but still, the nip of fall air felt a lot warmer with Hoseok’s sunshine grin.

You weren’t sure how Hoseok had persuaded you into actually letting Namjoon tutor you but there you were, staring blankly at the textbook propped open in front of you— nine in the morning, on a Saturday of all the days to choose from, waiting for a certain glasses-clad boy to show up. The university library was still, only a few scattered students stretched out across the bi-level building. You had arrived an hour earlier that morning, jittery nerves swimming through your veins as you persistently checked the time. 

Tucking a loose strand of hair that snuck past the tight grip of your bun behind your ear, you sighed at how pathetic you were acting. Regardless, you narrowed your eyes towards the clock for the 20th time that minute, concluding that a minute would not pass by in 10 seconds— no matter how many times you checked. It was only a minute past the time he had agreed to meet you, your mind swimming with possible outcomes from this “tutor session” as your leg bounced up and down in anxiousness. The reality of what Hoseok had gotten you into really started to settle in. That sneaky bastard. Resting your elbows on the cool, dark oaked table, you cupped your hands over your face, forefingers rubbing along the bridge of your nose as you exhaled deeply.

“Getting in your morning meditation?” Pausing your motion, you felt the slight jump in your chest from hearing the deep rumble of his voice. You looked up, releasing your face as you viewed Namjoon. His head was cocked to the side as he silently questioned your state while a soft smile graced his face, the hint of his dimples creasing his cheeks. How had you never noticed them before? 

For the first time, you got a clear image of Namjoon and you couldn’t help your breath from hitching as you scanned his form. The morning sunlight spilled through the full glass windows of the library highlighting the lights of his caramel skin and bleached the tips of blonde locks to almost white. The flush to his cheeks indicated that he had rushed to get to you, a thin film of moisture dewing at the peak of his hairline. And had he always been that tall? You were unable to help your eyes from raking his lean frame adorned in a cream, cashmere sweater and black jeans. 

“I could use some meditation right now,” You managed to say, fingers coming to rub the burn of your eyelids—partially from your lack of sleep the previous night but mainly to tear your blatant ogling. How embarrassing.

You looked back at him, blinking heavily as your blurred vision regained focus. “I’ve been reading the same line for the past 10 minutes.”

To that, Namjoon chuckled, leisurely walking around the table to occupy the vacant seat next to you. Your heart lurched when he shuffled the chair a little closer to you. Sitting with a plop, the light blow of air that followed his actions washed you with a scent of that familiar white musk you had been hit with a few days ago. It tickled your nostrils and you wriggled your nose, turning your attention back to the textbook splayed open in front of you. 

“You’re _____, right? I didn't just randomly sit next to the first cute girl I saw?” He called you cute. 

You let out a short laugh, nodding your head in confirmation as Namjoon mocked a sigh of relief. “I can’t believe we share a mutual close friend and have never talked to each other.” You agreed, trying to ignore the notion that this felt all too natural to have only spoken a short few words so far. It was a little incredulous when you thought about it; how you had managed to avoid him at every social gathering that Hoseok had ever invited you to. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you, though.” Dropping your head towards your lap, you caught the knuckle of your forefinger between your teeth as you tried to suppress the warmth streaming up to your cheeks. 

Namjoon shifted his seat closer to you, the outside of your knees lightly clinging against one another as he tried to settle in. The expanse of his outer thigh pressed against yours once he got comfortable and the warmth of the single touch shot tingles through your entire body. You wondered if he could feel it too. “So, let’s see what you’ve got so far.” 

Opening the lid of your laptop, your screen flashed to your lock screen before you typed away your password. “Thank you for doing this,” you said, missing the way Namjoon lingered his gaze on you for a beat too long as you scrolled through your files for the document. He took in the way the piece of hair you so carefully tucked behind your ear fell against your cheek, eyes stopping on the base of your neck where a gold chain clung against your skin. The tiny pendant that fell just between the space of where your collarbones met, took the form of a single, golden wave. Namjoon wondered the significance of it or if there was any significance at all, eyes returning back to your face when you slid your laptop over to him.

A few minutes passed as you waited for Namjoon to finish reading the words you had managed to scrounge up, the inside of your cheek surely bruised from how hard you were biting down on it. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the air feeling heavy while your thinning patience took the form of nervous finger twiddling. Releasing a breath, you forced yourself to crane your head towards him in hopes of gaining a checkpoint of where he was but he was so close to you, you almost clashed your chin against his shoulder. 

“Oh god, you hate it.” Your words slipped as you watched the way Namjoon’s brows were furrowed while reading your words. His eyes flickered towards, the narrowed look on his face relaxing before he shook his head in disagreement.

“No, no, absolutely not—quite the opposite actually...this is incredibly beautiful.” His comment erupted the slightest of spark in your chest, the feeling much similar to when you were a kid given sparklers during the summer nights by your family’s lake house. It was genuine and you were always one to be starving for praise. “Seems like Hoseok made an error of judgement.” You could have sworn something akin to mirth glimmered in the chocolates of his eyes as he rested his gaze on the plump of your lipstick-stained lips. Instinctively, you trapped the bottom flesh between your teeth, mirroring his study of you.

You swallowed thickly, flickering your eyes back to meet his. “Why do you think would he do that?” Fuck. When had he gotten so close? Any closer, he would have been able to graze the skin of your lips with his own, the thought so appealing, you almost let out a moan.

“Perhaps he hoped for a different outcome.” His voice was low, sending the thump of your heart to rush blood to your head. Surely, he also felt the surging streams of galvanic tension engulf the two of you.

“That arrant ass.” You managed to choke out. 

The weeks that followed were nothing short of a whirlwind of time. Majority of your days were spent with bruised eyeballs barrenly reading over each word of your essay repetitively until you would find another imperfection to fix. You were surprised you hadn't needed glasses yet as the burn from your laptop screen left a permanent hue of red to the whites of your eyes. As the dead set of winter hit the city of Seoul, so did your deadlines. If you weren’t writing essays, you were cramming for exams to test your memory on things like the Bronze Age or the Renaissance Era. You had become a zombie, enslaved to college as you diligently edited and re-edited each sentence of your final essay. It was the last Friday before your university would shut down for the holidays, the energy of students elevating as they prepared to return home to their families for Christmas. You, however, were stuck in your apartment for the three-week break. Your parents being away on a cruise ship left their home empty and ultimately pointless for you to occupy. You didn’t mind it too much though—having Yeona, your roommate, being away as well granted you the place all to yourself. The thought of spending winter break alone did pang you with the slightest of dejection but that was swiftly cut off as Namjoon’s voice boomed through the silence of the library.

“Are you ready to hand this bad boy in?” He grinned, dimples indenting the plump of his cheeks and you parroted one back as you gave an enthusiastic nod. 

The pair of you simultaneously let out the deepest of exhales after clicking the bright blue button marked as ‘submit’ on your laptop screens—acceptance over the semester being over, taking solace in your brains. 

“We did it!” You chirped, slamming the lid of your laptop down before clapping in elation as the glasses-clad boy beamed towards you with the utmost admiration brewing in his eyes.

You weren’t sure how you and Namjoon had gotten so close over such a short period of time but you thanked the stars every night since meeting him for his presence in your life. Perhaps it was the immeasurable amount of coffees you two had shared over the course of the month and a half while laboriously writing the same papers. What started off as simply a ‘study session’ grew farther than either of you had ever planned—making more time to see each other outside of the confinements of the library walls. You had grown quite fond of his quirks, the most amusing to you being how truly clumsy he was. Not a day went by that, that boy didn’t break, something. Whether it was as small as spilling coffee all over himself or as misfortunate as breaking a chair, he really was a master at the art of destroying things. Perhaps he would destroy your heart as well, you’d muse. 

You cultivated a strong connection with him nonetheless, acquiring knowledge over his deep morals and values—surprising you when they were very similar to your own. Through your blossoming bond, you learned that Namjoon was a patient angel, always confirming that he had helped you to the fullest if you had the smallest of questions before returning back to his own work. When Namjoon wasn’t working on papers about Aristotle’s ethics with you, he was working on software developing projects for his other classes on a clunky, laptop that looked like it came straight out of the 1990s. The poor guy had to lug around the dinosaur for one of his classes but you were always so mesmerized when he would pull it out, creating something out of nothing by simply plugging in a few equations. He did maths as easily as drinking water, you had even timed him once. It took him 30 seconds to finish a question that took up more than a page worth of equations. At the moment you were so awe-struck that you had downloaded one of those ‘learn to code’ apps onto your phone. It was nowhere near as advanced as Namjoon’s knowledge but it was a start and you’d never be able to comprehend the mass of appreciation he had for your enthusiasm over his field of studies. God, you were just the cutest to him. The more time you spent with each other getting to know the big things and little habits, the deeper a lustful crave settled into your bones. 

Of course, you were incapable of ignoring the sexual tension that constantly sat thickly in the air between the two of you. There were one too many times Namjoon would catch you ogling, a knowing smirk playing over his plump lips as the apples of your cheeks burned in diffidence. You couldn’t help but stare at times, catching the ways his eyes twinkled behind his thick-rimmed glasses when he spoke or how his tongue would peek through the corner of his mouth before swiping across his plump bottom lip. Goodness, how plump they were indeed with a shade of rose to go against his bronze skin. And how could you not mimic his grins when he would hit you with a perfect set of pearly teeth to add to how beautiful he was? His hand gestures were always elaborate as he spoke and you found your eyes having a difficult time training away from his slender, long fingers as the veins running along the back of his hands extended all the way up to his taut arm. You could imagine his fingers slipping past your soaked panties, lips on your neck as he brushed the pads of his fingertips against your bud. A blush powdered your cheeks for the umpteenth time since you had met the boy. There you were, seated with less than an inch gap between you, fantasizing the ungodliest of erotica starring you and Namjoon. 

You convinced yourself that it wasn’t just you who had this pent up energy of hormones persistently flowing through your bloodstream. You had noticed, how much closer Namjoon would sit beside you. Sometimes a hand would sneak just on the tops of your thighs or his face would hover close enough for you to be able to smell the coffee mixed with mint on his breath. It was becoming seemingly impossible to distinguish between friendly and flirty, Namjoon making no such movement to validate that he felt the buzz of arousal between you guys lingering as well. You wondered if, in the 86,400 seconds of each day, Namjoon thought about you the way you thought about him. Perhaps he pleasured himself to the image of you as scrupulously as you did. 

A brief glimpse of Namjoon taking care of himself flashed in your mind. The image of his bottom lip captured underneath the hold of his teeth, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as he pushed his cock further into the grasp of his hand—gosh, how badly you wanted to see him in that state of pure bliss. You discreetly squeezed your thighs shut, the flush over your cheeks deepening as you tried to minimize the dull tingle fizzing between your legs. It didn’t take long for Namjoon to take notice of the coy smile marking your lips, his fingers pausing over his keyboard as he arched an eyebrow towards you.

“Let’s call it a night, yeah?” His question brought you out of your sinful reverie and you stuttered in agreeance, trying to hide your bashful cheeks but Namjoon had noticed long before.

The clock struck just a few minutes past seven, and you heaved a sigh as you looked through the window to make out the bed of snow that blanketed the roads through the fresh flurries of snow that assertively dripped from the sky. The winter season deemed the hours within a day to shorten, the sun sinking on the east horizon by at least 4pm. It also meant that you had to take public transit—Yeona’s new work schedule debilitating her from being able to pick you up and Hoseok having already gone home for the holidays. 

“Jesus, there’s no way I’m letting you walk to the train station in that,” Namjoon said, zipping up the last few inches of his coat before plopping on a touque. You opened your mouth to argue, Namjoon quick to cut you off before you even had a chance to speak. “Don’t you dare try to fight me on this, it’s a mess out there and my place is a five-minute walk from campus.” You opened your mouth to interject once more, groaning in exasperation when Namjoon stopped you yet again from being able to get your words out. “I will get you a cab home from mine because there is absolutely no way I’m letting you spend more than 45 minutes out in that blizzard.”  

“It’s only a 10-minute walk to the station,” you finally managed to get out.

“Yeah and then another 30 minutes to actually get to your apartment and that’s not including the wait time for the train to arrive—you could be standing out there for an extra 30 minutes if you miss the one that comes in,” clicking the power button of his phone to wake the screen, he read the time. “5 minutes, yeah, no—I would literally be the shittiest human being on the planet if I let you go through all of that.” You briefly debated whether or not you should suggest taking the cab from the university but quickly decided that he would just make you regret even offering the idea. Besides, how could you argue with someone who was always so prepared with rebuttals? 

“Profoundly redundant,” were the first words to come out of your mouth upon stepping inside Namjoon’s apartment. It wasn’t huge per se, merely spacious, and you supposed that was due to the minimal furniture that spread strategically around the layout of the apartment. The living room was the first thing you had seen upon arrival, the entirety of where a wall should be replaced by windows. Your eyes twinkled at the marvellous view of the city from the 18th floor of the apartment. Turning your head to the right, you were greeted by the kitchen, every appliance up to date and themed silver. Kicking your shoes off, you almost felt obligated to straighten them with how austerely organized the place was. 

“This place is profoundly redundant—is that a four-thousand dollar couch?” jaw slack, your eyes were practically bugged out of their sockets as you took in the perimeters of the small, intimate space. You’d half expected it to be comically messy to contrast Namjoon’s destructive habits but you found it was neat and orderly— almost uncharacteristically so. You didn’t expect so much black either, not with Namjoon’s usual wardrobe being so variant with colours and patterns but his apartment would speak otherwise, blacks against greys against whites. It wasn’t boring either, merely unparallel to his nature. The place looked like it was straight out of a men’s lifestyle magazine and it smelled heavily like his expensive white-musk cologne—Tom Ford, he had once confessed.

“You know, I can confidently say that I’ve never met someone who uses such an array of vocabulary in their daily sentences.” Namjoon chuckled out, shrugging off his wool coat before unravelling the dark scarf around his neck. You slowly strolled over to the living area as Namjoon hung his belongings on the single coat rack that stood in the foyer of his front door. Still gawking at the carefully placed decor that you were positive costed more than yours and Yeona’s life savings combined, you wondered how in the world you had managed to let slip that Namjoon was secretly a millionaire. You supposed those were the perks of choosing software development engineering as a career—but he was still just a student. “Seriously,” he continued. “Almost every word you say is a cinnamon for something else.” 

You halted your entranced goggling, snapping your mouth shut as you blinked towards Namjoon’s mispronunciation of the word ‘synonyn’ and he caught on, correcting himself. He tried again but the word came out as ‘sylmanon’— you weren’t exactly sure where the sudden ‘L’ came from but it was hilarious nonetheless and you couldn’t help the bubbling laughter that erupted from you at the boy’s antics. Through your half-moon eyes, you hardly noticed Namjoon laughing along with you, a coy hand covering up the bright beam of his smile—a habit, you had noted, he did quite frequently. 

Your laugh was admittedly one of the most beautiful sounds Namjoon had ever heard and a rarity, he found. He swore if he could, he would’ve sold his life to the devil to be the sole person to make the melodic vibrato drip past your lips endlessly. 

“When I was a kid, my parents would send me to my aunty June’s house during the summers, and because she lived alone, she didn’t have a television or toys so she would make me sit and read the dictionary.” It was a true story, and Namjoon hummed in understanding before walking over to turn on the electric fireplace that stood suspended within the wall underneath his 65″ flat screen TV. You momentarily considered switching majors completely if it meant being able to afford living a life like this. But the thought of doing mathematics as a career when you still needed to use a calculator to confirm that 1+1 did, in fact, equal 2, instantly put a sour taste in your mouth.

“Are you a drug mule?” You entertained, now distracted by the soft buzz of golden light the chandelier above you emitted.

Namjoon merely guffawed, shaking his head in denial. Striding over to you, he reached out an arm, offering to hang your coat and you mindlessly handed it over to him.

“My roommate has expensive taste,” he mumbled, taking the coat from you before pivoting towards the coat hanger. Ah right, his roommate, Seokjin was it? If you remembered correctly, he was in the lead for taking Big Hit’s CEO position. 

Snapping out of your reverie, you glanced at the boy as he hung up your coat next to his—wait, when had you taken it off? “Didn’t you say you’d call me a cab?” You asked. 

It wasn’t until Namjoon turned around that you noticed the small, black parcel tucked just beneath his long fingers. You had almost missed it if it weren’t for the thin ribbon of red that lined around the box and knotted into a perfect bow on the top. It took him approximately three steps to get to you, his confident march rendering you frozen in your spot as he stuck out his hand to present you to the gift.

“Here,” you dropped your gaze to the black gift box, blinking in puzzlement. Namjoon simply sighed, rolling his eyes as he forced your hand to accept the gift. “Your Christmas present...from me.”

What?

“I d-didn’t know we were exchanging gifts...I-I—” A sharp shush blew past his lips.

“Just take it.”

Wide-eyed, you let out a shaky breath as your index and middle digit pulled to unravel the red ribbon. Carefully, you raised the lid of the box with the edge of your thumb, an involuntary gasp escaping you at the tiny, gold rose pendant that hung onto a thin, golden chain. It sat against a plush, white cushion tucked within the box. “Namjoon, you obtuse genius...” The room started to feel warmer, dizzying you as your heart swelled far too great for your chest to handle. The gush of felicity flamed through your nerves like a wildfire, slowly and then rapidly. Your vision blurred due to how hard your eyes squinted from the giant, toothy grin splayed across your face. “I love it.” I love you, you wanted to say but you didn’t, instead, closing the box and launching your arms to latch around Namjoon’s torso as your cheek pressed against the taut muscles of his chest. No wonder he had been so determined to have you come over. You closed your eyes, squeezing him with as much enthusiasm as you could muster while pouring thank you’s from your mouth. The edges of Namjoon’s lips curved up to a warm smile as he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing in return while resting his chin on top of your head. You fit so perfectly against him, he thought—too perfectly for it to be conventional. He could have held you all night and still never want to let go.

“Obtuse genius?” He mimicked your earlier words as you pulled away from your embrace. “How do you even come up with these phrases?” Your face scrunched as you giggled, opening the box once more to have another look. 

Namjoon helped you hook the thin chain around your neck, temptation brewing in his chest to just lean down and kiss the space between your neck and shoulder. Somehow, you had convinced him to crack open a bottle of Seokjin’s fine Montoya Cabernet as a ‘celebratory’ sip which quickly escalated into a few glasses—the guy was out of town anyway. You weren’t drunk by any means, tipsy, perhaps, but still able to comprehend the soft glow of the warm fireplace coating the room in golden light. “It’s beautiful,” he said. Like you, he almost gushed, eyes falling to your wine-stained pout that looked too inviting to kiss, too accessible to not—all he had to do was lurch forward and go for it. But before he could, you were already laying back down on the rich, grey rug the two of you were sat upon. 

“Thank you,” your voice came out in a whisper. Despite the Midas touch of the fireplace delicately coating the room in golden radiance, something intangible lingered in the air. You looked up at the honey-toned boy, wanting to break the comfortable silence that fell upon you. But you simply couldn’t disturb the way the reflection of the fire twinkled against the coffee brown of his irises—the thick, rimmed glasses that usually sat on his head, abandoned somewhere between the second and third glass of wine. The glow of the fireplace cast a shadow against the edge of his jaw while his lips pursed in his own absorption. What was he thinking about?

“Namjoon?” He hummed in response, eyes flickering away from the fireplace he had so intently been observing before craning his neck down towards you. “Thank you.” You repeated.

“You already said th—”

“Thank you for being in my life—and god, curse Hoseok for keeping us separate for nearly three years and curse me for always shutting down his invites to parties.” It was almost bewitched how perfectly magnetic everything was with your relationship with Namjoon. It seemed as if you had been friends for years rather than only one semester. You two had previously joked that you must have been friends in a past life—the word ‘soulmate’ being thrown around once or twice. 

Namjoon’s gaze dithered between your eyes and your lips, a flash of levity engraving in the upward pull of his own as he replied.

“Yeah that arrant ass,” he parroted the words you had said to him the very first day you officially met, and if you weren’t already in a 20 foot deep grave of suppressed feelings, you would have yelled ‘just kiss me, you idiot!’ 

Another serene silence fell upon you two, the low hum of the heater blowing softly from the vents. Though the thick tension that snuggly fit right between you two grew scads, you figured the only way to preserve this friendship would be to ignore how much you craved for him beyond that.

“I should get going, huh? I’ll call a cab.” You were quick to scramble to your feet, startling Namjoon as he crash-landed back to reality from his own thoughts. Features strewn with confusion, he watched as you quickly gathered yourself before scanning the space for your phone. He knew it was in your bag but he didn’t have the heart to disclose that information to you, not wanting to let you slip away so easily for the millionth time. 

“_____, wait.” You stopped, fingers dropping the pillow on the couch you had looked under before twisting your head to look at him. Okay. Namjoon thought. Now what? 

Gulping, he ran a shaky hand through his blond hair before rising to his feet. “Stay longer?” His question came out in seesaw tones, unsure of himself and you simply cocked your head at him, flabbergasted. Your brows rose as you observed the way his eyes settled into a plea, his face almost puppylike. “Please?” he adjured. 

Your face softened, bewilderment melting into adoration as you walked over to him, pulling his hands towards you before cradling his fingers within yours. 

“Of course I will,” you replied, having to stretch your neck up to reach his eyes. “What do you want to do? Watch a movie? We could try following a Bob Ross painting tutorial, I’ve seen a lot of that on YouTube lately—oh! Are you hungry? I’m sure I can scrounge up someth—” 

Namjoon’s lips were as plush and sweet as you’d imagined them to be—except this time you weren’t imagining it. Your wide eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back, the tension within his shoulders easing when you reciprocated. 

Namjoon kissed you with great need, however, it was delicate—warm, inviting and you dissolved into him when two hands gently cupped your cheeks. He held your face as if you were precious, fragile cargo—fearing you would somehow abruptly disappear from his grasp. His lips moved languidly against yours, savouring, memorizing every detail of the way they seemed to be made for him. Resting your hands on his strained biceps, you moved them up and past his shoulders before gripping around the nape of his neck, pressing your lips even closer together.

“Mm-I...don’t m’want you to think m’ taking advantage of your drunken state,” Namjoon mumbled against your kiss, not making any efforts to pull away as one hand travelled down to the small of your back.

Something between a shush and a moan left you as his hands contradicted his words of concerns, moving to the curve of your ass before giving it a light squeeze. Your hands around the base of his neck slid down to his chest, slowly coaxing him to take steps back before his elbows hit the edge of the kitchen counter. Namjoon growled against your lips, kneading your ass in his hands and you let you let out a whimper. Was this really happening? You didn’t have time to question it as your fingers trailed down to his crotch. Your palm came into contact with his hardening erection as it slowly tented within the confinements of his pants. Kissing the birthmark tucked just under his bottom lip, you moved to the edge of his jaw, his cock thick against the palm of your hand. Namjoon watched you through lidded eyes as you fell onto your knees directly in front of his growing bulge. You were quick to unlatch the hook of his buckle, the metal of the belt clinging as it hit the hardwood floors. “Are you absolutely sure?” He asked once more and you couldn’t help the giggle that fell from your lips from the redundancy of his question.

“Namjoon, I’m quite literally on my knees about to suck the daylights out of your cock—of course, I’m sure.” He let out a nervous chuckle, thankful that you weren’t in the least bit hesitant. He hoped you would feel the same in the morning when there’d be less buzz of alcohol streaming through your veins. Yet still, anticipation brewed within his eyes, watching as your hands answered for you when you unhooked the buttons of his jeans before sliding the zipper down. He helped you tug them off, letting his boxers go down with it and your mouth instantly coated itself in moisture when his cock sprang free. You weren’t sure what you’d pictured Namjoon’s cock to look like but the reality of it most definitely trumped whatever your imagination had mustered. It wasn’t excessively long, perfect enough to surely hit the right spots, however; he was thick—thicker than any of your previous partners and the thought of him filling you up with that amount of girth had you squeezing your legs shut as your clit pulsed. 

You started achingly slow, placing a single kiss on the tip of his pink head before gliding the tip of your tongue along a stout vein. Namjoon’s breath hitched, fingers gripping the edge of the kitchen counter while his free hand ran along your scalp. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes never leaving the way you wrapped your fingers around his cock and finally engulfed his length into the warmth of your mouth. You took him in inch by inch, his girth heavy against your tongue as you extended your jaw wider than you were used to. You enjoyed testing your limits, taking him in all the way until the tip of your nose brushed against his pubic bone and the head of his velvet cock hit the back of your throat. Namjoon couldn’t help the strangled moan that left him when your throat involuntarily squeezed around him, inducing your gag reflex. 

“You look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around me, baby,” his fingers tightened into your hair, his gaze stoic and heavy on you. Baby. The nickname elicited a moan from you as you began a steady rhythm of sucking. Your fingers were coated in a thick layer of saliva, Namjoon’s cock easily sliding against your pressured grip as your cheeks hollowed, jaw growing sore from your strenuous ministrations.  It took Namjoon every ounce of discipline he had to not cum when your lips latched around the tip of his cock, tongue flicking just the ridge of the head. With his head thrown back, his hips involuntarily lurched in a staccato rhythm as he shallowly fucked your mouth. Releasing your grasp on his length, you let him take control. Your hands took hold of his hips as you allowed him to push his cock into your mouth, the head grazing the back of your throat before he stilled it there. “Swallow.” He groaned out and you instantly obliged, the muscles in your throat clenching around him. Lips parted and panting, Namjoon pulled his cock from your mouth before hoisting you up to your feet. You squealed when he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his torso as his arms gripped your rear and began walking down the hallway into his bedroom. 

Flumping onto his bed, your legs naturally straddled around his hips as you fumbled on top of him. Your lips were back on each other, your kisses growing hungrier. A tongue poked out of the seams of Namjoon’s lip to mingle with your own. Perhaps it was the buzz of alcohol granting you some courage but you didn’t care either way, you had wanted this for so long and Namjoon just tasted so god damn delicious. It was lunatic how much you needed him to touch you, thinking you could cum alone from merely kissing him. Your arms circled around his neck, his hands skimming down the curve of your back before settling back onto your ass. You moaned into his mouth when he crashed his hard, bare cock against your clothed core. Detaching your lips from his, you sat up, legs still on either side of his torso as your fingers assertively unclipped the buttons of your blouse. He watched you through hooded eyes as you tossed the fabric aside, gaze settling onto the perfect mounds of your breasts.

Namjoon mimicked your actions, pushing himself up before reaching for the back of his sweater and pulling the material over his head. You sighed, letting your head roll back when he pushed his face in between the valley of your chest, fingers travelling to unlatch your bra. He let the garment fall onto his abdomen before hooking his arms around your back, pressing your chests together as you reattached your lips. “You are so fucking beautiful.” His voice low, husky as he spoke into your mouth, his hands skimming past the ridges of your ribs before cupping your breasts. You wanted him, you needed him, now, in any way shape or form. Your panties had collected a pool of arousal purely from pleasuring him and the feel of his plush lips against your own. It was heartwarming how gentle he was being with you, yet, now that it was tangible, now that it was happening, you practically begged for him to fuck you, a whine slipping from your lips. You gasped, hips blindly grinding into his crotch, as Namjoon’s erection greeted you back. Your impatience grew as you moved off of him, tugging down the material of your pants before throwing yourself back onto him. Namjoon’s throat released the neediest of grunts as the thin material of your soaked panties brushed against his angry cock. 

“So fucking wet for me,” he remarked fingers lazily finding the lace waistband of your underwear before slipping underneath them. “How many times have I made you this wet, baby?” Through your undeniable lust, you felt a coy rose spread across your cheeks from his question. He knew all too well how many times you had to sit with your legs clamped shut as he sat next to you. “Tell me, baby.” He cooed, kissing the underside of your jaw. Releasing a shaky breath, your eyes closed when a tentative finger brushed up your wet slick. 

“Too many to count.” your cheeks darkened with red as you bashfully confessed, whimpering when the pads of his fingers idly circled around your clit.

You felt the upturned curve of his lips as they formed a smug smile against the skin of your neck, a blush creeping onto his own cheeks. “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve imagined making love to you.” He admitted and your heart thumped violently against your chest as you kissed him, sternly, with as much fervour as you could summon to show him how much you had dreamt of the same thing. You moaned as he slid his second and third digits into your tight core, his free hand shooting up to cup your cheek as he held your face against his lips while fucking you with his fingers. It didn’t take long for that familiar pressure to bubble through your abdomen, your walls tightening around the grooves of Namjoon’s fingers. “Come for me, sweets.” He whispered against your lips, your eyes shutting, legs tensing as his words coerced the elastic to stretch tighter. Each pump of his fingers engendered the friction of his palm to press against your clit. Your forehead fell, desperately, between the crook of his neck before the elastic snapped in two. Your cries of pleasure filled the room as a ripple of ecstasy shot through your body. “That’s it, baby.” Namjoon croaked, a hand holding the base of your neck while punishing fingers continued their movement into you. Your high crashed in waves as he guided you through it. The fingers of his free hand entangled into your hair before tugging you away from his neck to ram a deprived kiss against your lips. 

“Please make love to me,” you whimpered and if Namjoon wasn’t buried knuckle deep in you, he would have almost cried at the mellifluous desideratum laced in your plea. You were everything he had wanted for so long, not ever being able to fathom those words dripping past your lips. With your bodies pressed so close to each other, he could feel the cavernous hammer of your heartbeat pounding through your chest. Sliding out his drenched fingers from your heat, you watched, mesmerized, as a drip of your arousal glided down his forearm. Wrapping his arms around your torso, Namjoon pulled you off of him before gently laying you on the bed. You shuddered as the untouched fabric of his comforter felt cool against your skin, already missing the warmth of his body as Namjoon left to dig around his side table for a condom. You frowned, extending your arms to poke at one of the back dimples placed just above his butt. “Namjoon...” you purred. “I want to feel you.” 

Namjoon chuckled humourlessly, shutting the drawer shut before turning back towards you. “I haven’t had sex in so long, my condoms expired.” You giggled at his adversity, not thinking you’d ever grow tired of his misfortunes. “You’re on birth control?” He arched a brow towards you and you nearly scoffed, practically growling a ‘yes’ as you sat up, arms looping around his neck before pulling him down to press your lips against his. Namjoon sank in between your legs, chests pressed together as his arms rested against the mattress on either side of your head. His smooth pout caressed yours, the lightest graze of his teeth teasing your bottom lip before tugging on it. You exhaled deeply, fingers lightly feathering up and down his back as he peppered kisses down your neck. Looping his fingers around the lace of your panties, Namjoon slinked them down the smooth expanse of your legs before spreading them apart. Watching the way the muscles on arms tensed and flexed as he took hold of the base of his thick cock had your mind reeling already, keenly spreading them further as he brushed the tip against your folds. The feeling of that alone had Namjoon moaning, the sensitive head pushing past your lips and into your heat. You gasped, the girth of his cock dragging against your walls as he filled you slowly had your eyes rolling back. A flow of profanities spilling past Namjoon’s pout as he buried himself completely in you, your cunt hugging every inch of his longing shaft. 

“Fuck, _____, you’re so tight.” He grunted, grabbing a hold of your calves as you adjusted to the fit. You let out a whine when he began moving out to the middle of his shaft before rolling his hips forward again. 

“Come here,” you whimpered, grabbing for his waist. Namjoon complied, resting your ankles on his shoulders before lowering himself to press a chaste kiss on your lips. It was the most fulfilling feeling as his cock caressed all the right places within your walls. With expert ease, he thrust into you, once, twice, finding a steady rhythm as your mixed moans and grunts filled the room. With each lethal roll of his hips, you lost yourself in him, taking the way his lips parted in rapture. Your feet unable to stay on his shoulders, slid down to his forearms as he gripped your waist. Namjoon really enjoyed eye contact, you had learned, as he maintained his locked gaze with you while fucking you into the mattress. Each moan of his name falling past the seams of your lips had his pace increasing, a collection of moisture running thinly down his forehead. He let your legs fall past his arms and you instantly wrapped your legs around his torso, bringing him closer. Your fingers laced through the golden hairs sticking out by the nape of his neck as his forehead pressed against yours. “F-fuck, baby...you’re doing so well, so fucking good—taking my cock like a fucking saint—god, you’re so perfect.” He spluttered, breath fanning against your mouth and you nearly came just from his praises. Namjoon looked at you with paramount revere in the coffee brown’s of his blown pupils, his brows knitted together, knowing the fucked out flush to your face was all his doing. It was within a matter of minutes that he was spilling himself into you, your walls clenching spasmodically, milking every ounce of his seed as a fountain of your name mixed with profanities streamed from his mouth. 

“N-namjoon!” Your breath caught in your throat when a deft finger pressed against your clit, applying skillful pleasure. The motion left you imprinting crescents into Namjoon’s back, voice clamouring, nails digging and scratching as the relentless back and forth of his index finger tore you over the edge. Your orgasm plummeted you into a pool of mush as you cried out, euphoria lapping through the river of your veins. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before, your ears pounding as the linger of your second high pulsed blood to your head. Plumping a soft kiss to your swollen lips, you winced as Namjoon carefully pulled out of you. Your heat tickled as your mixed nectars trickled out of you, slithering down to the cleft of your ass. You squirmed at the sensation, an inferno heating your cheeks as you shyly curled into yourself, awareness settling in of just how bare you were in front of him. Namjoon didn’t seem care though; to him, you were celestial, putting Venus and Adonis to shame with how perfect you were. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Placing a feather light peck to your left temple, he took in the lilac scent of your shampoo before reaching over to his nightstand for his box of tissues. Peppering your collarbone with kisses, he took his time cleaning the remnants of your sinful intimacy. You watched as he discarded the soiled tissue, the warmth of his body once against covering you as he laid next to you, letting your head rest on the heat of his chest. He pulled the blue comforter over your tangled forms, shifting away from the sticky warmth of your sweaty bodies and you finally got a proper view of his room. You hadn’t realized the grin spreading on your face as you took in the scattered books, papers and messy piles of clothes littering his floors. 

“What is it?” Namjoon inquired, laying back next to you before squeezing you closer into him as his arms snaked around your shoulder. Your fingers idly drew circles around the outline of his nipple, head shaking in dissent.

“Your room is just so...you.” You mused, feeling the rumble of his chest vibrate as his laughter bounced off the walls of his room. 

“Is that a good thing?” He questioned, planting another kiss to the top of your hair and you were putty in his arms, thinking this was exactly where you were supposed to be. 

“It’s perfect, I love it.” Tucking a finger under your jaw, Namjoon prompted you to look up at him. He was smirking, the indents of his dimples marking his cheeks before he spoke with great credence.

“That would imply that you love me.” You tensed underneath him, your ‘array of vocabulary’ suddenly vanishing from the palace of your brain. Namjoon felt it, plopping a reassuring kiss onto your pout. “I love you too, you scintillating whiz.” And suddenly you were laughing, wholeheartedly, at his choice of wording. Goodness, he never wanted to experience life without hearing you laugh ever again, promising himself to never let you slip away. Namjoon’s grin stretched to a thousand-watt beam and you noted that you’d most likely die before reaching the age of 30 if he kept sending tiny heart attacks your way.  Your lips found each other again, your fingers tangling into the honey-toned field of his hair as his arm pulled your leg over his torso. Pressing his forehead against yours, Namjoon spoke with closed eyes, voice low and determined. “If you’ll have me, I’m yours.” 

Your cheeks ached from how hard you were smiling, never once imagining to hear those words come to life from Kim Namjoon; the guy who had caught you shamelessly ogling one too many times, the guy you had fallen for far too hard over your semester of transcendental bonding. He was perfect, imperfectly perfect and you could not imagine a world without his destructive manners and brilliant psyche. 

“I’m yours.” You echoed. 

all rights reserved © jeongi

For the lovely @fruitydips who requested it! x

Disclaimer: The essay excerpt I put together are lyrics from BTS’ song Sea! One of my favourites so give it a listen if you haven’t already!

[demigodsanswer]

Hazel Levesque: Into the Prophecy-verse pt. 1

Time for the prologue to an AU I’ve wanted to write for a long time and need to finally get out of my brain. Hazel is a little OOC in this, but that’s because it’s an AU where she grows up in the modern world, not the 1920s. 

Description:

Rome was a three-thousand year old empire, with two capitals - Old Rome in Italy and New Rome in America. New Rome was the powerhouse of the gods and their hero’s.

The children of the Olympian gods lived amongst mortals, the most powerful of them joining the Legion, and some even earning fame status when major prophecies thrusted one or a few of them into the spot light. 

Hazel Levesque is an unclaimed, unimportant demigod, unsuitable for the esteemed legion. And she’s about to find herself at the middle of a major prophecy. 

~*~*~*~

Alright let’s do this one last time

“My name is Jason Grace. I’m the son of Jupiter and for ten years, I’ve the one and only child of the Big Three. I’m pretty sure you know the rest: I saved a bunch of people, fell in love, saved the city, and then I saved the city again and again and again. I also did this [cut to Jason getting hit in the head with a brick]. We don’t talk about that. Look, I’m a comic book, I’m a cereal, did a Christmas album, have an excellent theme song, and a so-so popsicle. I mean, I’ve looked worse. But after everything, I still love being the hero. I mean, who wouldn’t? So no matter how many hits I take, I always find a way to come back, because the only thing standing between this city and oblivion is me. There’s only one child of the Big Three. And you’re looking at him.” 

Hazel was listening to her music too loud to hear Chiron calling her. She had her first day at some prep school for demigods, meaning she was leaving Chiron’s half-way house for unclaimed and untamable demigods. 

New Rome was overflowing with demigods who either hadn’t been claimed or had been rejected from the Legion. Lupa had deemed her and her friend Leo “too insubordinate” for the Legion. He set the wolf on fire (an accident) and she had told the wolf to eat shit (not an accident.) Demigods who didn’t fit in the Legion and couldn’t live at their home with their mortal parents (like Hazel, who’s mom had been deem “unsuitable”) or didn’t have mortal parents (like Leo) lived in one of the half-way houses. There was hundreds of them around the country, all named “Chiron’s Half-Way House,” but only the New Rome branch was actually graced by the old Greek Centaur. 

He did his best to train or rehabilitate problem kids, getting them ready for either the legion or the real world. He was the one who had insisted every demigod apply to some fancy, over-priced prep school. And Hazel was the only one of them dumb enough to be smart enough to get in.  

 “Do I have to go?” She asked Chiron, as he adjusted the collar of her uniform (which she already hated.) 

“This is a step in the right direction for you Hazel.” 

She tugged on one of her curls, pulling it straight in front of her eyes before letting it bounce back into place. Chiron led her out to the car. Leo was waiting out on the front porch. 

“Don’t forget us little people while you’re off becoming some famous hero or some shit, Levesque.” He said, smiling. 

Hazel pulled him into a hug. “Who could forget you?” 

“I’ll bust you out as soon as I can,” he whispered. 

Hazel sat, clearly angry, in the back of Chiron’s car. He couldn’t drive, being a centaur and all, so Argus, the thousand-eyed half-way house driver was behind the wheel, and Chiron lectured her about all of her opportunities. 

“I don’t care,” Hazel protested. “I don’t want to go, I’m only here because I drew some pictures.” Her scholarship was art-based, that was true. She was a good artist. Not a really notable demigod skill, though. Still, someone had to mosaic all of Jason Grace’s accomplishments. They were only one year away from some world-ending prophecy that the tabloids still had yet to leak. So it was only a matter of time before Golden Boy Supreme (as Leo had nicknamed him) added another line on his resume. And if Hazel was lucky, which she rarely was, she’d be there to sculpt the whole thing in marble. 

“You passed the entrance exam just like everyone else,” Chiron told her. “This is your opportunity, Hazel. Do you want to end up like --” 

He cut himself off, but she knew how that sentence ended. Like her mother. Her mom wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t bad. She was actually pretty cool. The courts were just picky about who was allowed to raise demigod children. Even mega-Hero Grace grew up with a foster mom - Sally Jackson, poster mom for good demigod parenting. Literally, her picture was on the side of buses. She had her own book. She had been on The View with the nine muses. 

Her mom wasn’t Sally Jackson, for sure, but she always made sure Hazel had food, and she taught her how to draw. The court’s problem was her mom’s inability to hold down a job. The only thing she managed consistently was selling her own homemade jewelry. It was all bullshit though. If Hazel wasn’t a demigod, they never would have separated them. 

“Whatever,” Hazel said as they pulled up to the school. She grabbed her backpack and suitcase, and preyed to whatever god her father was that she would be kicked out by the end of the day. 

“Tie your shoes!” Chiron yelled after her. She ignored him. 

Hazel walked into a whirlwind. The school was huge. Most people were in their uniforms, although a few wore ancient Roman style armor over theirs. Some carried stacks of books, and other had spears and swords. Half her day was academic - Latin, literature, history, science, and math. The other half was training - weaponry, climbing, survival skills, and pegasus riding. At least they had Pegasi here. She had been trained well enough at the half way house, but there were unfortunately lacking in magic horses. Well, besides Chiron’s lower half, which Hazel wasn’t too keen on riding. 

“You’re shoe’s untied,” a stranger said, passing Hazel. 

“Yeah, I know it’s a choice.” 

The sneakers probably weren’t uniform, but she didn’t earn the label “insubordinate” for nothing. 

She found her locker, wide and tall enough for armor, weapons, and other demigod provisions, and shoved her suitcase in it. She figured she would move into her dorm later on. 

Someone opened the locker next to hers. “Oh this is so embarrassing,” Hazel said to her locker neighbor, “we are wearing the same jacket.” She laughed awkwardly, but the girl just rolled her eyes before walking away. 

Off to a good start, Hazel though before grabbing her backpack and moving on to her first class. 

Each class seemed to come with its own thousand pound textbook. And the long, winding hallways made it impossible to stop at her locker in between classes. By fifth period - history - she had four new text books and figured she was about to get one more. 

She walked in late. She hoped the darkness of the room helped cover her late arrival, but she cast a shadow in front of the projector. 

“Ah Miss. Levesque,” her history teacher, some old guy named Mr. Quintus, paused the movie, “you’re late.” 

She shrugged, “Maybe y’all are just early.” 

A girl with black spiky hair and dark eye make up let out a stifled chuckle. Quitus and Hazel looked at her. “Sorry, it was just so quiet.” 

“Please take your seat, Miss, Levesque.” He started playing the movie again. Some history documentary. The Romans loved those. This one had some young narrator, who would have been handsome if it wasn’t for the scar down his face. With his blond hair and blue eyes, Hazel could have mistaken him for Jason Grace, if Jason were twenty-five, not fifteen. 

“The Titan Saturn, lord of Time, was overthrown by Jupiter and his other brothers and sisters, and his remains cast away.” 

Hazel was just staring to tune the whole thing out when Quintus paused the video again. “Can anyone tell me the Greek name for the Titan Saturn?” The girl next to Hazel raised her hand. “Yes, Miss. Grace?” 

“Kronos,” she offered. 

“Very good,” Quintus restarted the film. Hazel thought about leaning over and asking her if she was related to Jason, but figured she probably got that all the time. 

A week later, Quintus stopped Hazel on her way out the door. “Miss. Levesque?” 

She walked over to his desk. “What’s up?” 

Quintus showed her the score from their history quiz the day before. A red 0/100 was written across the scantron. 

“A zero?” Hazel tried to look genuinely upset. “A few more of those and you’ll probably have to kick me out of here, huh?”

“If a person wearing a blind fold took a true or false quiz at random, what score would they get?” 

“Fifty percent?” 

Quintus changed her 0 to a 100. “That’s right.” He stood and faced the bored to start erasing that day’s lecture notes. “Are you familiar with the story of Icarus, Miss. Levesque?” 

“Uh yeah, he was escaping the Labyrinth with his father with a pair of bronze wings. But he flew too close to the sun, the wax melted, and he fell into the ocean. it’s about pride, right?” 

“Correct,” he said, turning to face her, “but you left out a crucial element. Yes, Icarus was instructed by his father not to fly too high. But he was also told not too fly too low, as the sea mist could also weaken the wax.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She asked. 

“You’re trying to quit, and I won’t let you. You must remember not to let yourself fly too low, it’s just as dangerous. I’m assigning you a personal essay. Not about history, but about yourself and the kind of person who you want to be.” 

Hazel had spent an hour at her desk, trying to write anything for Quintus or for her literature essay, but her ADHD was going off the rails. She wished Leo would make good on his promise to bust her out of there. 

But she decided not to wait for Leo. 

She hadn’t seen her mom in a while. She grabbed her hoodie before making her way down the fire escape. 

[atailof2kitties]

Tips for those just about to start year 12

So I’m just about to start year 13 (my final year at home! yikes!) and I thought, because I struggled a lot last year, I’d give some tips to those starting this September.  

1. Use your free periods- I cannot say this enough! They are not there for you to sleep or muck around in; they’re for independent learning or doing homework. I get that it can be very exciting if you’ve never had a free period before, but it’s probably best if you don’t see them as ‘free’ periods, they’re more ‘study’ periods. 

2. Do socialise- I’m probably not the best example of this since I’ve pretty much abandoned most of my friends for the library after some personal issues spilled into my studying time. But, I stand by the fact that you should be talking to people and making new friends and what not in lunch and break times. As a side note, befriend who you’re sat next to in every class. If you miss a lesson, they’ll be more likely to send you their notes. It’s also just quite nice- if you’re not interested in a subject, it can make the lessons more fun to have someone by your side. 

3. Independent learning- this is really useful since A Levels give you a lot more freedom. Examiners will be really impressed if you bring in relevant knowledge which isn’t part of the curriculum. If this is up-to-date knowledge, even better. For example, if you take English Language, I’d suggest you subscribe to Michael Rosen’s ‘Word of Mouth’ podcast which is semi-regular and will really impress teachers if you bring up some of the more recent developments in the field. 

4. Revise for every little test- this means you won’t have to revise tons for the exams at the end since you’ve already made your resources. I mostly do this so I get good grades throughout the year (and then procrastinate putting it all together...) so my teachers know what I’m capable of before they give me my predicted grades. Your predicted grades are what goes to the university you want so- be nice to your teachers and work hard and they should be nice in return. 

5. Stick it out- I’ll admit there are times when it’s really tempting to just drop all . your subjects and run away, but things will start to make sense soon. There is a big jump from GCSE to A Level but when it clicks, it really does click and you’re pretty much all set. If you work hard, you will get there. If you need help, please ask your teachers (or look online if you’re shy, but teachers are probably your best bet). 

6. Dropping subjects- it’s totally okay to drop subjects but what you need to do is figure out whether you really want to drop it, and which subject you should drop. I spent a lot of time wondering whether I should drop History (which I loved but was, to put it bluntly, a bit shit at) or Sociology (which was interesting, but my teacher never marked any of our work so I was getting a bit worried). After months of crying over essays, I decided to take an AS Level (not sure if this is still going to be an option after this year...?) in history and then finally drop it based on the amount of content. Stick it out until you know for certain that you want to get rid of it. I managed to get a B in my AS which I’m not ecstatic or unhappy about and it means I’ve got something to show for a year of learning. 

7. Be nice to your teachers- when you join Year 12, there is a different relationship between teachers and students and there’s an expectation that you won’t mess around and that you’ll respect them. If you fail to meet that expectation, you’re not likely to get a good reference or predicted grade from them when the time comes. If you respect your teachers, they will come to respect you. 

8. Visit Universities (if that’s what you want to do) and find opportunities to put on your personal statement- I can’t emphasise this enough. You won’t have time to do all this in Year 13 and there are tons of deadlines you can accidentally miss by not checking your emails. I missed the open day for Durham which is my dream uni. But don’t beat yourself up about it- there are always offer-holder days. For your personal statement, there are tons of opportunities. I want to study either english literature or liberal arts so I applied and got into a university taster course at Royal Holloway about Fantasy and Literature, a few weeks later went to a residential taster at Exeter to sample the arts and humanities subjects. There are so many opportunities, you just have to try and find them! 

9. Get involved in school- I know you probably hate that I’m going to say this, but it’s really beneficial for a UCAS application. I’m awful at getting involved normally but my English Language teacher suggested I be a Subject Rep for the school and stuff like this can really boost your confidence and if you’re helping others, you’re likely to do better yourself.

Finally 10. Just enjoy yourself. After sixth form/ college you probably won’t see your friends for months and life will never be as simple as it is now again. These are the subjects you’ve chosen so you should have more fun with it than GCSE but also, grades aren’t the most important thing, so always put your wellbeing first. 

Good luck! And if you need any help with any of the subjects I take or took (English Literature, English Language, Sociology, History, an EPQ) then please feel free to message me, I’m normally online. Or if you need help with mental health stuff- trust me I had the worst year 12 mentally- believe me when I say I am always here for anyone who needs me. 

[thechocoboos]

Chocobros + Ravus as Students

here are some headcanons--i’ve been working on them for a bit. enjoy!

Noctis

Bored. Bored bored. He is very bored, all the time

Has no fear of being late to class, so he leisurely strolls to class with his mind on other things

Or at least, he pretends not to

In saying that, he is never late. No one knows how.

In reality, he’s used warping multiple times to go in through the windows (only a few students see it, but no one ever believes them)

Ignis once caught sight of Noctis hanging off a window outside his class, begging him to open the window. He didn’t.

Procrastinates like fuckin crazy

If there was an olympic sport for it, he would probs get a gold medal unless he decided to do it later ofc

He’s that bastard who barely studies but does just fuckin fine

His favorite class is actually language arts, surprisingly

He enjoys analyzing literature and whatnot, although he absolutely hates writing essays for it

Contrary to what one might think, he doesn’t sleep in class. He wants to, but he doesnt

Still, that doesn’t mean he pays attention

He zones out a lot

Teachers try to pick on him to speak when they think he doesn’t know the answer, but he always gets it right (once again, no one knows how)

Doodles out of boredom in the margins of his notes

I mentioned that he doesn’t sleep during class, but he does sleep during lunch and guided study type of periods

You can often find him the library

He likes to sneak in naps between shelves

Sometimes you can catch sight of him lounging somewhere on a bench, an open book resting over his eyes

Prompto

He tries oh my lord

He tries SO HARD

He studies like crazy to the best of his abilities, he raises his hand when he can in class (despite the massive anxiety it causes), HE JUST TRIES SO HARD OH MY GOD

But he still doesn’t always do so hot

He’s the student who studies for 3 hours each night leading up to an exam and still gets a 63

He cries every time

Is fueled by caffeine and pure anxiety

He, too, doodles in the corners of his notes and zones out sometimes

Despite his poor test grades, Prom is actually really smart

He just has really, really bad testing anxiety

Pop quizzes make him cry

Tries to keep a planner for classes but forgets to write in them

He makes lists of the things he has to do for hw on the back of his hand

Teachers like him a lot, they see the spark of curiosity in his eyes and the eagerness in how he raises his hand and are happy to see his genuine curiosity (at least, in the classes he likes)

Speaking of classes

He hates math. It’s boring, doesn’t make sense, and makes his head hurt

However, he does like science

He loves learning how things work and he always has the most specific, odd questions for his science teachers

LOVES his art classes

He sometimes tries to take more than one art class a semester but it usually doesnt fit into his schedules

He’s not great at 2D art in them, but he outshines everything in photography

After his photography class, his 3D sculpting class is his fave

He likes to mold things with his hands and create something 3D, despite the fact that they don’t always come out great

Overall, he does his best as a student (for the most part)

Ignis

Every teacher loves him, every teacher wants him, every student wants to be him…

He aces every test and quiz, gets 100s on almost everything, and hoo boi does he look good while he does it

His handwriting his immaculate, his notes are comprehensive, his questions are applicable...my god he is an absolute dream student

Everything he does seems like it takes no effort, but no one knows how much he really studies…

In reality, he spends every single waking moment working for either Noctis or school

He’s always studying, always working on practice problems or other assignments, and always putting in an absolute metric fuckton of effort

He’s insanely good with math and science (especially math)

His favorite class is math, purely based on the fact that every question has a single right answer derived from a methodical process

His least favorite is actually language arts

He hates sitting in a seat and having to decide an author’s meaning and symbolism, part of him thinks it’s incredibly tedious and stupid, despite the fact that the other part of him understands the critical thinking aspect of it

Everyone always fights to have him in their groups for projects and he usually gets at least three students a day begging him to tutor them

His answer is almost always no

He’s willing to help out here and there if someone has a question, but he simply doesn’t have the time to tutor anyone

Is a member of student body government and somehow he was dragged into being on the student council (it wasn’t his idea)

Absolutely is the perfect student and nobody knows his secrets

Gladio

Is absolutely underrated as a student

No one realizes how smart he is when they first see him in their class--they think, “hey, big buff guy--probs not that smart…”

Oh how wrong they are

He’s a genius

It only takes a week before other students and teachers to realize it

Confidently raises his hand when he has questions or comments--and god help any teacher who ignores him (they miss out on legitimately good insights)

Favorite classes are language arts and history

He loves reading literature and analyzing it, and goddamn does he LOVE writing essays on literature

He’s the bitch who actually likes assigned readings

He always makes incredibly great theses and amazing points in his essays, his teachers always ask him if they can keep his as examples for future classes

As for history, he likes to know the big WHY--why did this happen? Why did that happen? What does it mean in relation to this?

He has many questions and he is always determined to get answers to them, one way or another

Genuinely doesn’t mind reading textbooks, hell, sometimes he prefers it

Like Noctis, he can frequently be found in the library

Only Gladio is actually there for reading and doing work

Sometimes, he runs into Noctis there and always wakes him up by smacking him with a book or kicking him

He will shush people. Don’t think he won’t.

It pisses people off but when they see it’s Gladio shushing them, they’re too scared to respond

Librarians know him by name and stop in the hallway to talk to him (they love him so much omg)

They even let him eat in the library and talk a little bit provided he’s not a distraction

Overall, he’s a 10/10 student.

Ravus

Doesnt have that many friends

His RBF kind of puts people off--he always looks like he wants to punch everyone in the face

Is quiet and respectful in class, but he NEVER talks or raises his hand (well, he does sometimes) except in the classes he actually likes

Teachers never call on him in the classes he doesn’t like either

When he likes a class, HE FUCKING LIKES A CLASS

And then he’ll never give any other student the time of day to speak--he asks questions out the wazoo or has comments and connections to make

He brings his own lunch (he hates the cafeteria food and lowkey likes having matching meals with Luna)

He’s the kind of student who knows the answer to everything but refuses to actually raise his hand

Instead, he grumpily thinks it and gets annoyed when a student he doesnt like gets it right, too

Lowkey, he thinks something along the lines of “Well, I knew it first”

Study skills??? Don’t know her

He was one of those students who was considered “advanced” or “smart” and understood things quickly when he was younger, but as he got older and classes got harder, he became kind of… average. Never developed proper study skills as a result so he gets angry at school bc of it

Still, he has the desire to learn, it’s just difficult for him (and his pride is too high for him to be okay with asking for help)

If he has a teacher he doesn’t like, though, he won’t even try to study

Talking to teachers scares him sometimes (me too, fam)

Either loves or hates the teachers who are coaches

Loves the cool ones bc of how lax they are, hates the douchey ones that yell at them for not doing better (@ his calculus teacher)

Overall? Probs avg student with avg grades, though he defo excels in his favorite classes

[jamesbvck]

change your mind | three

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU, High School!Bucky) Summary: Senior Year: the last year to be a somebody or a nobody. A chance to fall in love, ace that final exam and make memories. After a terrible first impression, Bucky makes it his mission to fix the mistake he made with the new girl. Will they get their chance? Warnings: swearing, fluff A/N: Let’s break the ice, shall we? :D Feedback in encouraged!

CYM MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

The nippy November weather swooped in too suddenly. The morning walk to school was now accompanied with frosty grass and biting winds. The leaves were beginning to dwindle from the branches of the trees, collecting in large piles on sidewalks and in front yards. It was perfect that the cafeteria was open before first period so you could grab something warm to drink and a muffin then head to class. The cooler weather also gave you an excuse to wear your big comfy sweaters too. It felt like you were wrapped up in a blanket every day.

Upon arriving at school you made a B-line to the cafeteria. There were a few students sitting at a table scribbling in last minute assignments before the bell rang. You walked into the separate small food room and grabbed a paper cup, filling it with hot chocolate and capping it with a lid. To your surprise the pastries were of low quantity and there weren’t any banana chocolate chip muffins left. There must have been a rush earlier. Nothing else looked too appealing, so you gave the cashier two dollars before heading to your locker. You stripped off your jacket, hanging it up along with your backpack. The warning bell rang and you took your history books before locking up.

You weaved through peers to enter Pierce’s classroom, ducking out of the way as one of the boys in your class attempted to toss a balled up piece of paper into the trash while claiming he was Steph Curry, shooting a three. Placed in the middle of your desk was an untouched, fresh banana chocolate chip muffin. You tipped your head, eyes moving to see Bucky at his spot next to yours. His textbook was open along with his notebook and he was jotting down some words. He had his own muffin and a bottle of orange juice in front of him. Slowly you approached the desks, taking the muffin and sat down.

“It was the last one in the caf, figured I’d get it for you before it was taken.”

Bucky didn’t look up from his work, messily scratching out a few words before continuing on. You set your books down and nodded. “How’d you know this was the kind I liked?” You asked.

“It’s the only one with a purple wrapper. They colour code the different flavours,” Bucky finally looked to you, sleepy half smile lining his lips. “Blue is blueberry for obvious reasons.” He used the end of his pen to point to his breakfast item.

You nodded, flipping open your notebook to a fresh page. “Not to mention you’ve gotten that muffin every day for the last two weeks.” Bucky added a moment after.

The second bell rang and Pierce sharply walked into class. The door closed leaving two students stranded in the hallway and ultimately a detention for ‘being late.’ Pierce never seemed to give kids much of a second chance which made him more terrifying than he already was. You weren’t sure how you made it two months in. It wasn’t that his class was difficult, it was more of actually paying attention and writing shit down because the tests and pop quizzes were always so unexpected.

Silently you peeled off the wrapper as Pierce began his class for the day: World War 2, Cause and Effect. The class felt never-ending. You doodled on the margins of your notebook, half day dreaming and mostly trying not to nod off in fear of the wrath you would incur. Bucky stayed rather mute as well, only poking you when you hadn’t finished your muffin and he was clearly still hungry. He happily took the rest and inhaled it within two seconds.

“You will pair up and choose a topic from the list being passed around,” Pierce handed the girl in the front row a stack of papers and she handed them behind her to go around the room. “Tomorrow you will tell me your partner and topic, one topic per pair. Then you will write an 1500 word, double spaced one sided essay about said topic, cause and effect. How did this certain situation affect America during this time?”

You took the paper and handed the rest over to Bucky. There was a list: Propaganda, Art, Clothing, Women in Warfare, it went on in two columns. The bell rang for the end of class with Pierce instructing everyone to pick up their last test that had been marked. You packed up and rose, finding yours at the front table easily. A ninety-two percent was more than enough for you considering you thought you botched the long answer.

Barely down the hallway, a hand caught your elbow and twisted you back. “Be my partner.”

“What? No way.” You shook off Bucky’s hand, shaking your head.

“Come on, you’re like the second smartest person in class.”

Your brows rose. “Who’s the first?”

“Me,” Bucky said in an obvious tone. He flipped his test around to show you his ninety-six percent grade in red marker. You rolled your eyes. “So you know I’m not gonna flake on you.”

Bucky had a point. At least you could maybe get this done in an efficient amount of time. And you already knew him, you didn’t have to make awkward conversation with someone else.

“Fine,” you caved. “We’re doing Propaganda.”

“Cool by me. We can start on it after school if you want, no practice today and we can finish before the weekend.” Bucky proposed.

“Got yearbook with Peggy but after?”

He agreed, “Yeah, sure. I gotta watch my sisters so you can come over.”

Your stomach flipped with immediate nerves. His house? A library wasn’t suitable? Then again was he really going to drag his sisters to the library? That’d most likely be worse. So you nodded, mindlessly agreeing even though there was caution coursing through you.

You parted for second period and joined Steve in English Lit. He shared a lemon loaf his mother had made with you which was beyond delicious. Hey, at least there were more treats to calm your overthinking and Coulson’s class was a breeze anyway.

Your phone buzzed in the middle of class, a new text message popping up on the screen. Unknown number but you had a hunch. You turned your phone to Steve who confirmed your suspicion.

“Sam have your number?” He asked, you nodded. “Probably gave it to Buck. They have second period together.”

“Bucky and I are partners for a history project.”

Steve’s left brow shot up. “Really?” His voice trailed as if he wanted to say some more but he refrained.

“Really, really.” You punched in Bucky’s name as an new contact, swiping to open the text.

Bucky Barnes: 1423 Westmount Blvd. Bucky Barnes: Figured that’d be helpful.

Your eyes rolled, typing back.

You: Damn was hoping to use a phone book for reverse search.

You watched as the tiny blue checkmark popped up in the corner of your message. Bucky had his read receipts on.

Bucky Barnes: Do those still exist?

It was unclear how you got trapped in a ten minute text conversation about phone books, but it happened. Mr Coulson politely asked you to put your phone away which you obliged and apologized. You zipped your phone in your pencil case, feeling it vibrate against the desk with another reply from Bucky.

Your nerves continued to flourish in your stomach throughout the day. Yearbook motored on by organizing the pictures from school events and Peggy had you designing layouts for Thanksgiving and Christmas. You were one of the last ones in the room with Peter Parker finishing printing his high resolution photos.

“Those look great, Pete.” You scanned over some scattered pictures on the desks. “You have a talent.”

He laughed softly, awkwardly. “Uh, thanks! Think these are some of my favourite, too.”

You brushed aside a few seeing a couple snapshots of Becca Barnes. You smiled, recalling how Peggy said Peter had a crush. “Don’t stay too late.” You told him, heaving your backpack onto your shoulders.

Peter waved as you left the room, starting your journey to Westmount Boulevard. The walk was a little farther than you believed, definitely your full exercise for the week. You looked up and down the street as you walked. The houses were a little bigger than your neighbourhood but it was nothing like where Tony Stark resided. You counted the house numbers before walking up neatly laid stepping stones to the dark wooden door of the colonial home. The garden was immaculate and Bucky’s Jeep sat in the long driveway. You stood on the porch, breathing in before knocking three times. There was shuffling on the other side, the lock twisting and door opening. Bucky stood with a granola bar in hand, chewing.

“Hi,” he mumbled, sliding away shoes to the side with his foot. He was in sweatpants and a basic navy shirt, opposed to his jeans and green shirt from earlier in the day.

You stepped inside and removed your shoes and coat. Bucky took it and placed it over the banister of the stairs. You only got a quick glimpse of the Barnes home but it was like looking in a home magazine; rustic yet contemporary. It was perfect but did feel well lived in.

You followed Bucky upstairs. Passing by the first bedroom the walls were lavender and there were two beds on either side of the room. The second room had music coming from it and the B on the door definitely indicated Becca was behind the closed door. There was a master on the other side of the hall and finally Bucky’s in the back. He pushed opened the door revealing a rather tidy bedroom. He had some posters, a TV on a dresser and a PS4 connected with a game in pause. His desk next to the window had papers, books and his laptop. Bucky left the door half open, sinking down into his desk chair.

“Kinda glad you chose propaganda. Did a project on it in the tenth grade, too.” Bucky swivelled around to log into his computer.

You slid off your backpack, still a little uneasy being in the house. Realistically there was nothing to fret about yet you couldn’t help but feel out of place. You moved and sat on the end of his bed, unzipping your bag and took out what you needed.

“So,” you finally spoke. “I guess we should start with what is propaganda and how was it conveyed to the public.”

“Radio, television, leaflets, posters,” Bucky listed. “It portrayed a way Americans should think and see of the war, a way to persuade opinions.”

You wrote as Bucky rambled. Surprisingly it was good enough to form a base of the essay hitting basic points and facts. He pulled up Victory Poster images and Careless Talk counterparts; know about the war, help your husbands, brothers and sons, talk about the war yet be cautious of spies. He knew a lot of stuff. You had moved to sit on the floor, back pressed against the bed as you used your knees to hold up your notebook and write. This was going way more smoothly than you could have imagined.

Bucky faced you, feet up on his bed as a footrest. He tossed a hand exercise ball up into the air and caught it a few times. He stopped, glancing over to the door. You followed his gaze seeing a smaller human hovering just outside in the hallway.

“Come here, Jules.”

The door was pushed opened slightly more revealing the littlest Barnes. Her dark hair waved down just past her shoulders, eyes sharp blue just like Bucky’s. She had her math workbook hugged to her chest and a pencil in hand. She looked sweet but shy and suddenly you felt bad for making her feel like that in her own home. She eyed you closely while she crossed the room to her brother.

“This is Julia,” Bucky introduced. “My most normal and favourite sister.” He proceeded to introduce you and Julia gave a wave before showing Bucky her math homework she needed help with. “I’m going to help her with this for a sec.”

It really wasn’t an issue. If it were you, you’d choose to help an angel face like Julia before anything else. You slid your textbook to yourself, flipping through the pages.

Julia sat on Bucky’s lap, showing him the fractions she had to calculate. You couldn’t help but watch for a few moments. Bucky was a natural teacher explaining to her the numerators and denominators, and how to simplify the equations.

“How many times does two go into two?” Bucky asked.

“One.” Julia’s voice was soft and small.

“Right! And how many twos go into six?”

Julia took a moment and used her fingers to do quick math. “Three.”

Bucky picked up her pencil and scribbled down some numbers. “So it’s one over three. Do you wanna do another one?”

She nodded and they proceeded to practice two more equations before Julia felt confident enough to continue on her own. Bucky promised that after dinner he’d look over the rest of her work although he was certain all the answers would be correct. She hopped off his lap, the tiniest satisfied smile on her face.

She skipped to the door before turning back around. “Can I go get a cookie?” She asked Bucky.

“Only if Abby doesn’t see, and bring us one.”

Julia nodded frantically before taking off down the hall and stairs. You laughed lightly, turning back to look at Bucky.

“How old is she?” You asked.

“Ten,” he replied. “She’s a little shy at first but she’s great. A funny kid.”

“Abby is your other sister?”

He nodded. “She must be in the den or something. She just turned thirteen and she’s been arguing with my parents how she should have her own room like Becca.”

Julia was dashing back into the room in no time. She handed you a chocolate chip cookie and one to Bucky as well. “She didn’t see!” Julia mumbled through cookie bites. Her and Bucky exchanged a high five before she was bustling out of the room again.

Perhaps you sized Bucky up too quickly, or maybe there were two sides to him. There was the Bucky that pulled you out of the haunted house when you were scared, the guy who bought you a damn muffin and helped his little sister with homework. But then there was the other Bucky, the drunk side who was a douche and the athlete that knew he was hot shit at school. You couldn’t decipher him, he was a puzzle.

“Mommy’s home!” Julia called out. You could hear her feet stamp down on the steps as she ran downstairs again. Bucky glanced towards the door again and you felt the nerves return to your body.

“I should go. I think we have enough stuff that I can start an outline.” You mumbled, closing your books and shoved them into your bag. You’d only been there just over an hour but there was progress made.

Bucky shook his head, “You don’t have to go.”

You turned your back to him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll do the outline then we can finish it another night.”

A quiet sigh breathed from behind you. Bucky had stood up to walk you downstairs. “Can’t do tomorrow. How about after the game on Friday?”

“You sure? Won’t you be tired?”

He shrugged. “Rather get it done before the weekend so I can just sleep it away.”

“Okay.”

Bucky grazed your arm as he went by you, opening the door and headed downstairs. You followed him, gripping the strap of your bag tightly. There were groceries being carried in by helper Julia and you caught a glance at what must have been Abby in the kitchen unbagging the groceries. Bucky handed you your coat as you slipped on your shoes. He stuck his feet in some sneakers and walked outside with you. The hatch back of a silver SUV was open, Bucky’s mother handling a few bags.

“I got ‘em, ma.” Bucky swooped in and scooped up the rest of the bags she had.

You stood off to the side watching the mother and son for a moment. Awkward was an understatement. Did you just keep on walking and not say anything? No, that was rude. Did you offer to help? It looked like Bucky had everything taken care of just fine. Your weight shifted from leg to leg, gnawing on the inside of your cheek.

“Hey, uh, ma. This is my friend,” Bucky hesitantly introduce you to his mother. She poked her head out from behind him, beaming with delight. She was short, maybe five foot four, soft brown long hair that framed her face pleasantly. She had those eyes, those blue ones that could brighten a day just looking at them. “We’re doing a history project together.”

You stuck out your hand to shake, polite smile on your lips. Instead Mrs Barnes pulled you in for a hug, surprising you but it was comforting and not as weird as you thought it’d be. She had beautiful smelling perfume on, something warm and appropriate for the winter weather approaching.

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear.” Mrs Barnes greeted.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs Barnes.”

“Winifred.” She corrected. “No need to be so formal. Mrs Barnes is my mother-in-law.” Winifred took a moment to look you over like an exam, assessing you from head to toe. “James, she is absolutely stunning.”

Bucky grimaced, adjusting the bags in his hand. “I’m going to take these inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nodded, saying bye to him. “I have to go, but it was really nice meeting you, Winifred. Your house is lovely.”

“Come back any time. I usually make too much food for dinner since usually one of the boys are over. It’d be nice to have a new face in the house.”  Winifred squeezed your arm gently, giving another friendly smile. You said thank you, telling her to have a good evening then started your trek home.

You missed your mother when you got home, already off to work. A note was left from her on the stove saying there was shepherd’s pie being kept warm in the oven with a few hearts and a smiley face on the sticky note. You pulled the casserole dish out and spooned yourself a piece, taking it up to your room for the night. Idly you ate and typed up an outline, though your thoughts reflected at your short time at the Barnes residence. It stuck with you how Bucky dropped everything to help Julia and then without being asked assisted his mother with the groceries. It was small things but nice.

You laid back in bed after showering and changing into cozy clothes, snuggling up under the blanket. You grabbed your phone off of the bedside table, tapping on the text message icon.

You: So… James?

You barely flipped to another application before seeing the drop down message with a reply.

Bucky Barnes: Yeah. Bucky Barnes: Did you think my name was legit Bucky? You: Could have been. Frank Zappa literally named his daughters Moon Unit and Diva Muffin. Bucky Barnes: Don’t think Bucky is that extreme.

You: Guess not…

You watched as the three dots popped up on the screen for a few moments then disappeared with another few seconds passing by. There was dead air in the conversation, or lack thereof. Truthfully Bucky didn’t need to reply back. School was in the morning, he was probably going to go to sleep soon anyway. Then the dots appeared again.

Bucky Barnes: My mom made more cookies. She said I gotta bring you some tomorrow and share some with the guys. Think she made like three batches.

You smiled.

You: Winifred Barnes, MVP.

You wondered if Bucky laughed or not. It was cheesy but it was nice of his mother to go out of her way to bake for his friends. Friend, you thought. He had called you his friend earlier. Were you even considered that? Your mind spun, too deep of thoughts for your tired brain. You texted Bucky saying you were going to sleep, plugging your phone in and set your alarm. Bucky replied; simple yet sweet.

Bucky Barnes: Goodnight :)

Peggy was smart and brought a blanket to the football game on Friday. You were both bundled up in jackets and shivering from the wind that crossed the field. Natasha had went to the food stand to grab some warm drinks for the three of you. The game was tied and you wondered how in the world the boys played in such crisp conditions. You could see your breath.

Natasha returned and handed you and Peggy hot chocolate pulling the blanket over her legs too. “There are scouts here tonight.”

“How do you know?” Peggy questioned.

“Overheard Sam’s mom talking in line.”

You glanced behind you, searching the bleachers. That was good news for the boys; a scholarship would be incredible. Everyone blended together and a scout probably would have wanted to fit into the crowd instead of being a distraction. You turned back as the offensive line came on. Steve had everyone huddled up to direct a play before breaking and getting into formation. They got a five yard gain, Steve calling another play shortly after.

You watched intently as the ball was snapped back to Steve. He scanned the field looking for an open man. Bucky was blocked and Sam couldn’t get a man off him. Steve went left, faking a throw in hopes someone could get free. Then out from the right a giant lineman tackled Steve, sacking him flat on his back. The crowd gasped, Peggy was immediately on her feet as Steve was motionless. Bucky broke through players, helmet off as he went to Steve, taking a knee beside him and a coach came onto the field.

Your own heart started to quicken at the sight. Natasha eyes were wide and alarmed. Clint was shoving at a few guys on the opposing team which caused a few shouts from dads at the stands. Sam was having a stern conversation with one of the referees, clearly not getting the answers he was looking for. Another minute passed. Bucky gripped onto Steve’s hand and slowly pulled him up to his feet.

“What is he doing? Is he staying in?” Peggy asked, slightly frantic.

Bucky patted Steve’s chest, swirls of breath coming from the both of them like they were laughing about something. Steve readjusted his helmet, calling back his team. Cheers erupted from the spectators as their Valhalla quarterback was back in the game. Peggy sat back down, still tense but there was a big smile of relief on her face. You looped your arm through hers, squeezing lightly for support.

Down to the last two minutes of the fourth quarter, the Panthers were only up by three. It was crucial to keep possession of the ball and let the time dwindle down. There was tension in the atmosphere. Your eyes darted to the scoreboard and back to the field. Time ticked and small plays were made. A quick timeout was called to regroup and gain focus. Encouraging cheers rang out, clapping and hollering. You felt nervous, this would be a big win and they would be first for the playoffs. You clapped along as Nat and Peggy did. The players took their positions, less than a minute left of play. They could run the clock but it was worth a shot to go for it, 30 yards to the end zone. The ball snapped back to Steve. Bucky was open and Steve drilled the pass to him. Bucky effortlessly caught it, feet motoring. Voices got louder, your heart rate increased hoping for a successful play. Bucky reached the 5 yard mark going to dive in— then a hit. He was taken down by an opposing player. Bucky reached out for the ball to cross the line and from your angle, it looked to be a touchdown.

The crowd was an exploding volcano; the bleachers shaking. You grinned, clapping excitedly at the unbelievable play. But that was it, it was unbelievable as the referee waved it off. The mood quickly shifted from happiness to boos and foul mouths. Your brows furrowed, looking to Peggy who was just as puzzled. Bucky had rolled back onto his feet and invaded the ref’s personal space. You could see him arguing, heated by the official call on the field. He was robbed.

Sam guided Bucky away from the situation, attempting to ease him down. Parents were outraged, the coach was having his own words with another ref but it seemed to be settled. The Panthers still won but it wasn’t the great ending they were looking for.

There was a hum of chatter as people descended from the stands. The little football town was in quite the uproar. You parted from Peggy and Natasha, having told Bucky you’d wait by his car. If he was in a bad mood, maybe it wasn’t best to finish the project now. You sat yourself on the edge of the Jeep’s bumper, shivering as you waited. You watched the parking lot empty of cars until there were only about seven left. Maybe you should have waited inside the school, he seemed to be taking longer than normal. Players retreated from the doors but none were Bucky yet. Your nose was cold and fingers nearly numb.

Bucky appeared a few moments later, head down, hair wet, and a slow pace. You stood up, fidgeting your fingers. A man approached Bucky causing him to stop and adjust the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder. They shook hands and the man began to converse with Bucky, handing him a business card. That must have been a scout. It had to have been. The man patted Bucky’s shoulder, another handshake before he went on his way. Bucky scanned the card for a moment before coming towards you.

“How long have you been standing out here?” He asked. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t running around a field for over an hour,” you said. Bucky unlocked the doors, tossing his bag into the backseat. You climbed into the front of his car taking note of the leather seats and the pristine interior. The car even still had that brand new smell.

Bucky turned on the engine and cranked up the heat. You began to dethaw.

“Was that man a scout?” You looked at him.

Bucky nodded, handing you the business card. On it was the Stanford University logo, along with the man’s name and title. “Wow,” You murmured. “This guy came all the way from California?”

“I guess.” Bucky didn’t really seem too interested in it, at least not right now.

You read the card again, then looked back at Bucky. “I’m sorry about the end of the game. It was a clear touchdown.”

“That ref hates me anyway,” Bucky shifted the car into reverse. “His kid plays for another school and we got into it one game last season. Kind of ended in a fight.”

“Kind of?” You inquired.

Bucky half smiled. “Yeah, kind of,” he pulled out into the main room, turning left. “We’re going to your place. I’d rather not be in a house with four thirteen year old girls. Abby’s having a sleepover with her friends.”

You nodded. You weren’t in the mood to be questioned either so it was a good idea. Bucky seemed to know where he was going. Obviously he knew were Peggy lived, so essentially he knew where you lived. You continued to hold onto the small rectangular card between your fingers, soaking in the heat and watched the road. Bucky parked next to the curb, grabbing his backpack from behind his seat. You hopped out and walked to your front door, unlocking it and going inside. It was much more homey now; less boxes and pictures hung. Bucky closed the door behind him, heeling off his shoes.

“No one home?”

“My mom’s working a double shift at the hospital. Apparently two nurses called in sick.” You told him.

“Your dad?”

You stopped halfway to the kitchen. The topic of your parents hadn’t really come up before. And truthfully it wasn’t important. “Haven’t seen him since I was eight. Said he had to go out to the store one night and didn’t come back.” You found your footing again, going to the fridge.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Bucky frowned.

“Doesn’t matter.” You handed Bucky a can of Coke and gave a half hearted smile. “Popcorn?”

Textbooks, notebooks and loose papers were scattered across your bed. You sat near the end, legs crossed with some printouts, highlighting important information. Bucky was sitting up against the headboard, typing away on your laptop using the outline as a guide. You and Bucky worked well together, you thought. You’d suggest something but Bucky would take it to another level of expertise. Surprisingly he was pretty good with written word.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Bucky leaned forward and grabbed a few pieces of popcorn.

“What did you say to Steve to get him back on his feet? The hit looked pretty bad.”

Bucky chewed and swallowed. “Told him that Peggy was already halfway across the field and she was gonna beat his ass if he didn’t get up. He just got the wind knocked out of him.”

You smiled, laughing softly. “She was worried.”

“Yeah I saw her standing there. He’s alright, though.”

You sighed softly, sorting through pieces of paper. You snuck a peek at him. His eyes scanned the computer screen, deleting and retyping a sentence a few times. His face was concentrated, mind lost in a deep thought. You thought back to that scout again, and the business card. It was on your desk. You wanted to ask Bucky what he thought about it; did he have other offers? Did he want to go pro?

Maybe you’d ask another time.

“Starin’ at me?” He lightly teased.

You shook your head. “No—uh, was trying to think of how the conclusion should go.”

Bucky hummed, placing the laptop beside him as he rubbed his eyes. It was a little after midnight, it had been a longer game due to all the commotions, so you didn’t get home close to 10:30. You moved away some of the books and papers, crawling over and settling next to him, pulling the computer to your lap. The document  was already at six pages double spaced typed up. Editing still needed to be done and a works cited page, MLA format. You could do that on the weekend and hand it in on Monday.

“How does it look?” Bucky asked.

You hit the down key to scroll through. “Good, well, to me at least. Who knows what the hell Pierce will think.”

“He likes you, so he’ll like it,” he shrugged. “Me? Not so much.”

“I feel like there’s a story.” You saved the document, closing the laptop and put it aside.

Bucky had his eyes closed, head tilted back against the wall. It looked like he could pass out any minute. “Sometimes authority figures and I don’t get on too well. Tenth grade, Clint convinced me to skip third with him and I went along. The class I skipped was Pierce’s. We went back for fourth and he caught us coming back in and reamed us, brought us down to Principal Fury’s office. I said some shit that I probably shouldn’t have, talked some shit about how Pierce couldn’t even teach. Landed a three week’s worth of detention and probation on football. Wasn’t even failing his class.”

You listened, trying to imagine it and you could see if very clearly. It was apparent Bucky had a mouth on him, you had witnessed it at the party, him and Tony’s short squabble and tonight at the game when he got into the ref’s face.

“And now you’re back in his class.” You murmured.

“Karma, she’s a damn bitch.”

The corners of your lips tugged upwards as you dug your feet under the blanket. Bucky was first and then somehow, before you could even comprehend, you were out like a light. It was a solid snooze until the AM. The sun peeked through the curtains, a breeze rattling the windows. You rested on your side, nose touching Bucky’s arm that was draped over yours while he laid on his back. Wrists kissed and fingertips grazed.

This was… nice. He was warm.

Bucky’s phone aggressively vibrated against the mattress three times. For a moment he was still, lost in slumber until it occurred again. His fingers became vacant from yours, now only a memory as he slipped his phone out of his pocket. Slowly you peeled one eye open, vision blurred but you could make sense of Sam’s name and three text messages. You blinked a few times and Bucky opened the texts.

Sam Wilson: Guess who just saved your ass, yet again. Sam Wilson: That’s right, I did. Now you owe me 3 pizzas. Count ‘em: 3. Sam Wilson: Poor Winifred was worried sick, James.

Your insides rattled with silent laughter at Sam’s sass. Bucky ran his hand over his face, simply typing back a ‘yeah, yeah thanks’ to Sam. Then there was a follow up.

Sam Wilson: Where are you?

A low and slow exhale came from Bucky’s chest. His fingers hovered for a long while over the letters. Your eye shut quickly when he turned his head to look at you and you prayed he still thought you were sleeping. He was still for a moment, and from what you could tell he discard the conversation and locked his phone. Gently he pulled himself up into a sitting position, combing his fingers through his hair. Both feet set on the ground and he was hunched over. You rolled onto your back, stretching out as you normally would in the morning and yawned.  

You had an urge, unsure if it was good or not, to reach out and pull Bucky back down. Just for a minute or two, yet you resisted. This had been an accident with both of you falling asleep.

“I should go,” Bucky barely looked over his shoulder. His voice was sleepy, a little dry in the throat.

“Do you want breakfast?” Your words came out before you could process anything. You didn’t sound desperate for him to stay, he didn’t need to stay. But… it was nice having someone there. You sat yourself up wanting to bury your face in your hands. “Say no, it’s okay.”

“I don’t really want to say no.” He admitted.

You got off the bed, straightening out your shirt and grabbed some sweatpants off your floor by your desk and your phone. “Pancakes. I’ll make pancakes,” you told him, trailing out the room backwards. “Bathroom’s here, by the way.” You pointed to a door just outside your room before disappearing downstairs. You changed in the downstairs bathroom, rinsing your face with water.

Your feet padded against the cool tiles of the kitchen floor. You opened the pantry and took out the pancake mix, retrieving eggs and milk out of the fridge. There was water running from upstairs and you breathed in deeply.

So, now Bucky had been in your house. Not just that but in your room, on your bed, slept right fucking beside you. It was fine, like you said an accident and accidents happened. Yet here you were now in your kitchen mixing together pancake batter for breakfast. You didn’t owe him breakfast. It felt like your head was going to explode.

You had a few pancakes made by the time Bucky came down. He had his backpack packed up and his jacket, placing them against the kitchen table. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m okay.” You kept your back to him, flipping over a pancake.

The legs of one of the chairs scraped the floor and he sat down. There was silence; a sizzling frying pan and the wind continuing to howl outside. You wouldn’t categorize it as awkward but it was definitely some form of that. You were quiet, Bucky was mute scrolling through his phone to keep himself occupied. You weren’t sure if you should say anything. Was there really anything to say?

Once there was an good stack on the first plate, you brought it to him along with a fork and knife, and the syrup. Juice options were fruit punch, apple and orange but you already knew he’d go for orange so you poured him a glass.

“You’re like my ma,” Bucky said. “Always making sure everyone has what they need before they eat.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Don’t see how it could be a bad thing.”

You finished making breakfast, taking the seat across from him. He cut into the stack, having four layers of pancakes stabbed onto his fork and shovelled it into his mouth. He was an athlete, he probably ate way more than the average human. Bucky still looked tired. He did say he’d sleep the weekend away so maybe he’d go and do that.

“I’ll finish the the end and conclusion and send it to you.” You told him. It was only fair since he mainly typed the entire essay last night.

“You sure?” Bucky set down his fork and looked at you from across the table. You nodded. He held your gaze as he took a long sip of orange juice. “Alright.”

Nerves. There were nerves erupting in the pit of your stomach, a pang but not like the one you had felt before. It wasn’t gut wrenching and painful, but it was still enough to make you wince. You phone vibrated against the table and you quickly picked it up.

Peggy Carter: Is that… Bucky’s car on the side of the road?

Oh fuck.

You dismissed the text and left your phone to the side. That text could be dealt with when the person in question wasn’t in the same room as you.

Bucky cleared his plate of food and got up, rinsing the plate and left it in the sink as you instructed him to. He was slow to pick up his bag and coat almost hesitating. You could tell he wanted to say something due to his pinched brows and lost eyes. You walked with him to the door, leaning against the wall while he tied his shoes.

“See you on Monday at school?” He asked.

You nodded, “Not sure where’d else I’d be.”

He flashed a smile, teeth and all. You pulled open the door for him and watched him go to his car. You stood with the door open until his car was on and he waved. Your hand rose, fingers wiggling with him driving on by. You closed the door, locking and leaned your forehead against the wood with closed eyes. You felt yourself sink and grow sad at the departure. Why? Why now? Just because you learned about him didn’t mean shit. It didn’t, it really just… You were lonely. Lonely in a house while your mother was at work and your friends all had other things to do.

You were lonely as you crawled back into bed seeing the creases of where he laid, and his fragrance still lingered. You tucked yourself under the blankets, pulling them up to your chin.

Lonely, you thought. You had been lonely from years, starting new schools, meeting new faces that all blurred together.

You didn’t want to be lonely...

bucky list: @buckychrist @bvcks @lila-bard @stanclub @stardustparker @buckybarnesppreciationsociety@sweetwaterprincess @demongirl0913 @queenlydias @dontpanc @ohkingsteve @kingsebstan  @cauraphernelia @yourwonderbelle @beauty-who-doesnt-need-a-beast @bleedlikerubies @fallenaristocat @bubblybuckybarnes @solarbarnes @my-world97 @mystic-scripture @ragnarokbarnes @kali-rambles @pao-prazz @thorins-queen-of-erebor @eventyyr @abbadontherisingqueen @lovinglokiforever @justasimpleassbitch @red-wallflowers @brooklynightsky @hellaqueerangelofthelord @yknott81 @rvmanova @blame-the-russo-bros @buckybarneshairpullingkink @laurfangirl424

CYM *tags open*: @villainsaremorerelatable @akamaiden @sofreakinmanyfandoms @smolbeanthings  @noshitstark @memory-of-a-goldfish @lizfawn @moonstruckhargrove @pizzabarnes@moonbeambucky @csigeoblue @sgtbookybarnes @marco-hvittyvik 

[nic-biostudies]

I don’t know if any of you has ever been curious about the school system of other countries, but I’ve always been wondering “how does it work there?” so, assuming that there are other people like me, I thought that making a post about the school system of my home country would be cool, so here it is ! 

How does the school system work in Italy?

Basics

every level of education (from pre-school to university) is divided into years, which gather students of the same age 

students belonging to the same year are divided into classes composed of 15/30 students and they usually last from the first to the last year of school

classes have nothing to do with subjects

students don’t move from one room to another to follow lessons, the teachers move 

all subjects are compulsory, we don’t chose which subjects we want to take (with the excpetion of 2nd languages)

the school year starts in mid September and ends at the beginning of June, we have a winter break of two/three weeks around Christmas time

the school week is 5 or 6 days long, it’s usually 5 days long from pre-school to primary school, and 6 days long in middle school and high school (even though most schools offer a 5 days long week option)

we don’t wear uniforms (unless it’s a private school), but we have to wear this in primary school 

the school day usually lasts 5/6 hours if you have a 6 days long week (if you have a five days long week you usually have two or three days that last 8 hours), there are no free hours during a “normal” school day

we don’t really have a sports’ culture in Italy, so there aren’t any school teams, in some high schools there are sports tournaments which are organized by students and are held among teams made of students beloning to the same class

lockers aren’t a thing (or they are a really rare thing) 

we have both written and oral tests which are spread during the whole lenght of the school year

marks go from 0 to 10, you have to get more than 6 to pass

in high school it’s possible to fail one or more subjects, to pass the year you have to take an exam of that subject/subjects in September

Levels of Education

1) Pre-School

called Asilo nido or Nido d’infanzia, literally “nest pre-school” or “infancy nest”

non-compulsory 

lasts for a maximum of c.a. 3 years

gathers children aged from 3 months to 3 years old 

2) Kindergarten 

called Scuola dell’infanzia or Scuola materna, literally “infancy school” or “maternal school”

non-compulsory 

usually lasts 3 years 

divided in three “grades”: piccoli, medi, grandi [small (kids), middle (kids), big (kids)]

gathers children aged from 2.5 to 6 years old

3) Primary school

called Scuola primaria or Scuola elementare, literally “primary school” or “elementary school” 

compulsory 

lasts 5 years (or more if you fail a year, which is very uncommon in primary school)

gathers students aged from 5/6 to 10/11 years old

the subjects studied are the same for every school (even though the ones of private schools can be slightly different) and they are: Italian, maths, English, mathematics, natural sciences, history, geography, pe, arts, music, and religious studies (non-compulsory)

4) Secondary school 

called Scuola superiore di primo grado o Scuola media, literally “lower secondary school” or “middle school”

compulsory

lasts 3 years (or more if you fail a year/multiple years) 

gathers students aged from 10/11 to 13/14 years old

the subjects studies are the same for every school (again, there may be some changed in private schools, like the addition of Latin) and they are: Italian, maths, English, second foreign language (either Spanish, French or German), science, technology, arts, history & geography, music, pe, and religious studies (non-compulsory)

at the end of the third year there’s a leaving exam, the subjects tested are: Italian (writing an essay), maths (4 exercises), English (text comprehension), second language (text comprehension), INVALSI (national tests of Italian and maths); you receive a mark between 0 and 10 e lode (10 cum laude), you pass the exam if you get more than 6 

by passing the exam a student gets the Licenza Media (middle school license) so that they can attend high school

5) High school 

called Scuola superiore (di secondo grado), literally “(upper) secondary school”

lasts 3 or 5 years (or more if you fail a year/multiple years), only a 5 years hs gives you a degree which allows you to go to university, a 3 years hs gives you a license 

gathers students aged from 13/14 to 18/19 years (usually), even though students can decide to leave high school at 16 without getting a degree or by getting a license 

after middle school students get to chose the kind of high school they want to get in, the kinds of school are accessible to every student as they don’t need a certain mark to get in 

all high schools have some common subjects which are: Italian, English, maths, history, science, pe, and religious studies (non-compulsory); every kind of school has its specific additional subjects 

high schools are divided in: licei (lyceums), istituti tecnici (technical institutes), and istituti professionali (professional institutes/vocational schools) 

some kinds of schools offer different paths, students have to chose the “turn” they want to give to their studies at the beginning of the third year of high school

the kinds of lyceums are: 1. Artistic, with different turns (each turn has its specific additional subjects): figurative arts, architecture, design, multimedia, graphic, scenography  2. Classic, additional subjects are: Latin and Ancient Greek Linguistic, additional subjects are: two foreign languages (in addition to English) 3. Musical & Coreutical, with different turns (each turn has its specific additional subjects): musical, coreutical  4. Scientific, with different turns (each turn has its specific additional subjects): traditional, applied sciences, sports 5. Human Sciences, with different turns (each turn has its specific additional subjects): traditional, social & economic

technical institutes are divided into economic ones and technological ones:  1. economic ones are: A. for Administration, Finance and Marketing [with  turns: traditional, international relations, corporate information systems] B. for Turism 2. technological ones are: A. Mechanics [with turns: mechanics and mechatronics, energy] B. Transport and Logistics [with turns: construction (of the mean of transport), conduction (of the mean of transport), logistics] C. Electronics [with turns: electronics, electrical engeneering, automation] D. Informatics [with turns: informatics, telecomunications] E. Graphics and Comunication F. Chemistry [with turns: chemistry, enviromental biotechnologies, sanitary biotechnologies] G. Textile [with turns: traditional, footwear & fashion] H. Agricoltural [with turns: Productions & transformations, Management of the environment, Viticulture and oenology] I. Constructions [with turns: traditional, geotechnical]

professional institutes are there to “teach you a job”, this is the only kind of schools that allows you to get a license after your third year and leave high school, they are divided into those for services and those for industries and handicrafts:  1. services ones are: A. Social and Health care [with turns: traditional, dental technician, optician] B. Commercial, Food and Hospitality [with turns: cookery, serving and selling, hospitality] 2. industries ones are: 1. Productions [with turns: industry, handicrafts] 2. Maintenance and Technical assistance

To graduate high school you have to pass the Esame di maturità (literally “maturity’s exam”), the exam is composed of four different parts: first part [an essay, in Italian], second part [a test on the “characteristic” subject of the kind of school you attend], third part [a test on different subjects 3/4/5/6 depending on the individual school], fourth part [an oral exam on different subjects, the number depends on the choice of the exam’s committee]

(THE NEW MINISTRY OF EDUCATION IS PLANNING ON CHANGING IT)

The exam is graded with a mark from 0 to 100 cum laude, to pass a student has to get more than 60 

6) Higher Education

Higher education is mainly covered by universities, there are some superior grad schools and professional higher schools as well 

University is built on the 3+2 system, meaning: a Laurea Triennale (Bachelor’s degree) lasting 3 years + a Laurea Magistrale (Master’s degree) lasting 2 years 

After the Master’s degree you can access to Post-MA degrees, Doctorates or Specializing schools

There are some exceptions to the 2+3 system: Law (lasts 5 years), Medicine (lasts 6 years), Pharmacy (lasts 5 years), Dentistry (lasts 5 years), Primary teacher education (lasts 5 years), Architecture (lasts 5 years in some universities), Veterinary medicine (lasts 5 years) 

Each university usually offers every kind of course, the only exception are Polytechnic Universities, which only offer Engeenering courses and Architecture  

The admission requirements can vary from each course and each university: some have entrance tests, some are “free entrance” and don’t have a limit in the number of students that can enroll, some have a limit and the students who apply first are the one that can enroll 

Some courses have national wide entrance tests, the courses are: Medicine, Veterinary Medicine, Health Care (nursing, midwifery, physioterapy, etc) 

The academic year starts in mid September/early October and ends in late May/early June 

Classes usually aren’t cumpolsory and there are no classes on saturdays (unlike what it’s usually like in hs) 

Exams are grouped in sessions, during sessions there are no classes, there are 3 main sessions during the year and some extra ones depending on the course/university, the main ones are: January/February, June/July, September 

During each session you can take the exams related to the previous semesters, including the exams from the previous years 

Marks go from 0 to 30 cum laude, to pass you have to get over 18 

There’s no limit of times you can fail an exam, and there usually isn’t a number of exams you have to pass to move to the next year 

If you don’t graduate in time you are “fuoricorso” (this is really common especially during the bachelor’s degree) 

When you graduate, your finaly mark can go from 0 to 110 cum laude, and it depends on your GPA 

[psycho-slytherin]

Strangers ch. 15

Xiumin and Lisa both surprise you, albeit with very different stakes.

Pairing: Yoongi x (female) Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Genre: Fluff

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“So this is what you meant by see you tomorrow?”

Xiumin shrugs. “I hope you’re not disappointed?”

“How could I be?” you laugh, accepting his offered bouquet. “Here I was, ready for work–”

“Surprise! No work, just brunch,” Xiumin says, procuring a pastry box from behind him. “I bought croissants.”

“Yummy! Come in, let me make some coffee.” you pad back inside and set the coffeemaker to work, swiftly sweeping scrap paper and your latest homework assignments off the kitchen table to make room for two plates.

“Sorry for the mess,” you apologize.

“Not at all! It’s my fault for dropping in on you like this,” Xiumin says, setting down the box.

“You dropped in with flowers and food,” you say, grabbing a spare mug from the cupboard as the coffeemaker announces that it’s done. “You’re totally forgiven.”

“Awesome,” Xiumin says with a goofy grin. “How can I help?”

“Could you put those in that vase over there?” you say, nodding at the brilliant pink peonies. “And how did you know my favorite flower?”

“You did a performance with your improv troupe where you mentioned it,” Xiumin says. “It’s a random thing to make up, so I figured you were telling the truth.”

“You’ve seen our performances?”

Xiumin laughs. “Sure, it’s hard to ignore the posters all over campus.”

“What’s your major again? I forgot you went to Seoul Arts too,” you admit, using the shortened name for the university.

“Visual arts with an emphasis on contemporary painting,” he says. “So basically I’m destined to work at the cafe my whole life.”

“Same. You’re talking to an actress, remember?” you remind him.

“Ah, but you’re good at what you do.”

“I’m sure you are too,” you laugh, biting into a croissant. It’s soft, flaky, and the perfect thing to help you recover from your episode last night. You’ve heard of panic attacks, but surely that’s not what your minor freak-out was.

You finish breakfast with more pleasant chatter, and Xiumin stands to help you wash up.

“I actually had something I wanted to ask you,” he says as he dries off the dishes.

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfriend?”

Wuh?

“I know it’s fast and all,” Xiumin rushes to say. “I don’t need an answer right now. I… well, you’re pretty amazing, y/n. I don’t want someone else swooping you up while I’m pretending to like you only as a coworker–”

“Xiumin,” you say, elbowing him. “Calm down. I’ll think about it.”

His eyes gleam with happiness. “You will?”

“Of course.” Why wouldn’t you? Xiumin’s a nice guy, and he likes you. You like him too, right?

“Awesome! Then I’m gonna get going,” Xiumin says. “I, uh… I may or may not have told the manager I had a morning class, and I’m supposed to be back at the cafe-” he checks his watch, “Fifteen minutes ago.”

“Yeah, of course! Thanks for breakfast.” you wave him out the door before inhaling deeply. Well, that happened.

Shit, homework! You rush to your desk and open your laptop. With the craziness of yesterday, you’ve still got so much to do before tomorrow. You groan at the realization that you have a huge presentation due Friday, and you need to rehearse a monologue for your Shakespeare unit, plus all of your day-to day homework and your job at the cafe… It’s gonna be a busy week.

And it was. Between your morning classes, afternoon study sessions and night shifts at the cafe, the week goes by quicker than you expect.

You and Yoongi text whenever you can, but with his fanmeets and comeback preparation as well as your own schedule, you only manage rushed conversations. Still, you talk about both everything and nothing at all.

You sit back Saturday afternoon and stretch. It’s been a whirlwind of a week– you had dinner with Xiumin twice and Lisa’s come over just about every day to study with you. Even so, you’re pretty sure you failed your history exam, and your advanced literature essay was ninety percent bullshit.

A buzz behind you, and reach for your phone.

“Hello?”

“Darling y/n, my beautiful wife, the most amazing–”

“Lisa,” you sigh, bemused. “What do you want?”

“How do you know I want anything? Maybe I’m just wishing you a happy early birthday.”

“You only get that compliment-y when you want something.”

Lisa laughs over the phone. “You caught me. My housemates are having a cocktail party tonight, and I really don’t feel like going– you know how snobby they get when they’re drunk off martinis. Can I sleep over?”

“Of course! God forbid you face the wrath of Wendy’s tipsy critiques again,” you giggle. “Yeah, come on over whenever. We can watch a movie and stuff ourselves full of the cheapest ramen money can buy.”

“You know me so well,” Lisa says, sighing wistfully. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

“By which you mean three.”

“Don’t expose me, y/n!”

You laugh. “See you soon.”

Three hours later you hear a knock at your door and Lisa walks in with her overnight bag.

“I’m still jealous that you live alone,” she announces, flopping on your bed.

“In this tiny ass apartment that’s costing me an arm and a leg? I’ll trade you.”

“You’d rather five housemates than a kitchen you can barely turn around in?”

You consider it. “Good point. Never mind.”

“What movie do you want to watch?” Lisa asks, opening her laptop.

“Something American?” you suggest. “I’ve been meaning to practice my English.”

“Ugh, I hate subtitles,” Lisa whines. “But you’re the birthday girl, so I’ll be a good friend.”

“Wow, I feel like royalty,” you tease. “I’ll change into my pajamas. Pick whatever.”

A few hours later find you and Lisa bawling as the Titanic end credits roll.

“Th-that was beautiful,” Lisa sniffles.

“I’m never getting on a boat again,” you announce, wiping your eyes.

Still hiccuping, Lisa looks at her watch. “Woah! We need to sleep!”

You check your phone. “It’s not even midnight.”

“Yeah, but I’m totally taking you out for a birthday breakfast tomorrow, so we have to be up early.”

You smile at your friend. “Alright, fine. But you’re making too big a deal of it. It’s just a day.”

“You’re so weird. Of course it’s a big deal– your birthday only comes once a year! Now go to sleep. Goodnight!”

With the abrupt order, Lisa turns over in your bed and closes her eyes.

Why do I love her, you wonder as you climb into bed next to her. With your friend’s quiet breathing a calming constant, your eyes flutter shut and you let sleep take you.

“Did you see my bag? Did you see my bag?”

You groan, pressing your face against your pillow. “What the–”

“Sorry, sorry!” Lisa scrambles to shut off her alarm. “I forgot that was on.”

“Mm…” you’re about to turn over and fall back asleep when Lisa pokes your cheek. “Whaaat?”

“Happy birthday!”

You yawn, sitting up. “Thanks, hon.”

“Now let’s get going.”

“Excuse me?”

“I, uh… I made breakfast reservations for my bestie!” Lisa says excitedly.

“Ah, really? Thanks,” you reply, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surpri-ise,” Lisa sings. “Now get dressed. Wear something a little sexy, yeah?”

Your raise an eyebrow. “Sexy? For breakfast?”

“Or don’t. You’re the birthday girl,” Lisa tells you, already waiting by the door.

Twenty minutes later you’re speeding down a highway, dressed in a snug black v-neck and high waisted shorts. It’s only breakfast, after all.

Half an hour of driving leaves you drumming your fingers against the dashboard. “Are we there yet?”

“Tsk, you’re so impatient,” Lisa complains. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Good, I’m starving.”

“You’ll be very well fed, I promise,” Lisa says, winking at you.

“O-kay…”

Ten minutes later, the traffic begins getting heavier.

“Jeez, why are so many people out this early on a Sunday?” you say, staring at the line of cars in front of you.

“No clue, maybe they all want breakfast?” Lisa suggests.

“I guess.”

You eventually park in front of a large but nondescript building. Streaming past you are dozens of chattering teenage girls, most of them wearing… what?

“Why is literally everyone wearing Bangtan merch?” you hiss at Lisa.

She laughs sheepishly. “I guess I can’t keep it a secret any longer. Surprise, y/n! I got us tickets to a BTS fanmeet. Happy birthday!”

A/N Thank you so much for reading! As always, my inbox is open and I’d love any feedback you may have :)

[skulstudy]

Hello everyone! I asked you if you wanted me to do this post and many of you seemed really surprised that I actually have 19 subjects. Welcome to Croatia, people haha.

So, first I’m going to tell you more about how it works in my school. I’m going to one of Croatia’s many Gimnazija’s (in my case opća gimnazija) [opcha gimnazia]. It is a school where you learn a very good amount of general information. I’m in the 3rd year (or as you would say junior year) What classes am I taking? Croatian, English, German, Music education, Art education, Psychology, Logic,  Sociology, History, Geography, Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, PE, Religion, Information technology (an elective subject that every student has to take (from opća gimnazija)), and I have 2 additional subjects which are different in learning (and very very optional) DSD (for German diploma) and advanced Physics.

One class lasts for 45 minutes with a 5 minute break, a day has around 6-7 classes, with a big break after the 2nd period for 15 minutes (some schools have up to half an hour). My school has two shifts of students (this year the 3rd and 2nd year are together, and the 1st and 4th year). The first shift: 7:10 am-1:05 pm, and the second: 1:15 pm- 7:10 pm. One week you are the first, the other week you are the second shift, so you have to be really good at organising your time. We have two different schedules.

Here’s an example of my schedule for one day:

1. Math 2. Math 3. Psychology 4. Physics 5. German 6. Chemistry  7. Biology 8. DSD

You of course have to have a notebook for each subject and a textbook (and maybe a workbook if required)

I eventually come home by 3 pm and start with my homework and studying.

Okay, now how I organize my time and my tips.

Pay attention in class and take notes.

This has saved me a ton of times. I always learn a lot more when someone explains it to me the first time and taking notes is a must. If you want, you can always rewrite notes, but for me, the best way is to just re-read them 2-3 times when you get home or the day before you have your next class. You will always follow up with your class and studying for an exam won’t be that hard.

Do your homework as soon as you get home.

I always do it as soon as I can because that way I won’t push it aside and forget about it. Also, doing it immediately helped me to have more time to study something else.

Get a bullet journal.

This is important because writing down your tasks helps a lot when getting them done and with organization. I also like to keep track of my exams, my grades, my habits and important dates. What helps is making a study schedule in your bujo. Here’s how you can do it.

Revise every subject the day before.

As I said before with notes, reading a few pages of your textbook or notebook hleps keeping up with your subjets. Doing that for every 19 subjects seems impossible but if I take 20 minutes for a subject I have tommorow that’s 2,5-3 hours which works. If I really don’t have that time I revise on the bus, or when I arrive in school.

Set priorities.

When I have an english essay for tommorow and a math exam, I will learn more for my math exam. I do this because I have set priorities for those subjects. I maybe have already an A in engish and a B in math, so of course I’m going to learn for something harder. Another example is that I’m going to need the math later because I’m going to work as a math teacher and not as an english teacher when I finish uni.

Weekends can save you.  Holidays are your best friend.

All that work that I have set aside I can do on weekends and I can study more for the following week.

Doing your summer/winter work is really important for not getting stuck in that pile of work.

Find your best study place, and your speciall style of studying.

Not all of us can study in our bed, or at a desk. Not all of us learn by re-writing everyting. Finding what works best for you can save you so much time.

Here 2 helpfull links:

- types of studying

- learning styles

You don’t have to be a perfect student.

Accepting that I don’t have to be a straight A student but doing my work as if I am helped me achieve my goals. You have to do your best in order to achieve what you dream of. But, if being a perfect student means that you have no social life, or that your health is in danger it’s not a good option.

Thank you so much for reading and hope that helps some of you. Do you want to see a what’s in my backpack and my daily study routine?

xoxo, V.  ❤

[lettersfromitaly]

9/30/17-10/5/17

well my friends it feels like its been eight years since I've updated but lets do this!

SO Venice on Sunday was great! The weather was perfect. The first thing we did was find the grand canal to go on a gondola ride (WHICH IS VERY EXPENSIVE RIP). It took us awhile to find the grand canal though and the ride was kinda short. Other people said the person who steered their boat gave them a lot of fun facts about Venice and ours just said “george coonley owns that house and theres the famous bridge” buddy you didnt even try :/. Then we walked around a lot and went into churches and found St Marks Square which has the most beautiful buildings i loved it! Then i got lunch in this square that had a lot of free art exhibits which was cool. One of them just had a bunch of mandalas which was strange but interesting. Then we took this boot that acts as the bus for Venice since there are no vehicles on the island and it took us to another island called Murano which has a bunch of glass makers. We got to see one of them work and it was cool to see how similar the technique is to the ones in america. Then we took the boat back to Venice which was a pretty long ride since it made so many stops but it took us right to our train station then we went back to the dorms.

This whole was week rough and painful.

So Sunday i literally woke up at 11 then at 12-7 went to library to study then went to dinner then studied until i went to sleep RIP.   

Monday we had an exam for my italian film class but it was easy because its an easy class and it was open note so that went well. That night i studied some more! and ate dinner. 

Tuesday i had another exam. It wasn't as hard as i thought it could be but i made some dumb mistakes which was disappointing. That night i studied then we decided to take a break and go into the city for dinner. That night some people really struggled with the reality of life and i was out longer than i would've hopped but i still got to facetime sister #1. 

Wednesday I had a break from exams! We went to an italian high school and were partnered with students. I had two guys i believe they are both 18. One likes to play soccer and the other does mixed martial arts fighting. The latter is really good at speaking english but the other didnt know that much and all his friends made fun of him for it. We got to see them play soccer and they are so good! Some American students came to play with them and it was so funny  and embarrassing because they were so awful compared to the italians. Then the rest of the day i studied i know big surprise.

 But the exam for thursday was my art history exam and that was the hardest one so i made an 100+ slide show of every piece of art we looked at and I'm praying i did well. The entire test was had time parts to it and everyone was really rushed at the end because we only had 40 minutes to write three essays so that was a struggle. After that i had a three hour class RIP but i got my religion test back and ended up doing really well in so that was nice to hear. Then i said goodbye to a lot of friends who are traveling during our break and then went to dinner in the city. 

[icharchivist]

Cinema and literature? Which college did you attend to? That's so interesting! That explain why you are so good at giving explanation about hxh and stuff 🤔

aah thank you kdjhsjkdhd I don’t know how good I really am about it but this is really nice!

Actually it was in High School. In France, you chose a cursus in High School (Litterature, Science, Economics, Merchendise, you can pick more general ones, or really specific studies in high school but it works differently and i don’t know enough about it)

Then you also pick a secondary cursus, an option you will stick with for years. I picked Cinema, but there was Arts, Litterature, Sciences, Math, and a whole lot different options.

So I was in a Cinema option for three years in High School and a Litterature Cursus for two years. 

(high school is only 3 years, starts at 15yo, you pick your option the first year, and your cursus specialisation on the second year)

So ye, every week I had about 5 to 7 hours of studying Cinema where we basically analysed movies, analysed how movies were made, both on a technical standpoint and on a “what the framing/lightning ect” would mean” standpoint.  We would also make our own short-movies, defend them and explain them and will have to present them in the cinema festival the High School hosted every year where it presented all the movies made by the school (3 a year the two first years, really short by our own means, and on the last year, a short movie with big means and with an actual Report (I think mine was like 30 pages long) about all the steps that went into the creation of the final product). 

The exams were all about analysis and tbh, I can brag on that, but I had the best grade in the speaking exam about analysing movies (19 out of 20 points, which is like. A lot. A real lot. Especially in the final exams that defines your diploma.)

At the same time I was following the Litterature Cursus, which was basically something like 4 hours of Litterature a week where we were analysing books, and a Litterature Cursus implies also 6 hours a week of studying Philosophy on the last year. 

That + Languages (We had both English language and English Litterature, and a second language to pick - mine was Italian, It was a mistake, bye) and + History/Geography.

so French Litterature, English Litterature, History, Cinema, and Philosophy were all about analysings. Tbh I blame that for the reason I always end up rambling, because it was really, really badly seen if you would only give back less than a 4 pages essay after an exam. We were kinda used to write more, and having to organize it and such. (okay maybe not in English though because the level in English class isn’t really high, but it was true for the others lessons) 

then after High School I followed an English Litterature and Civilisation Cursus. So it had translations, but still Litterature Analysis to write as Essays and same with Hisory classes. We even had analysis of Press and analysis of Media like Cinema (which was so frustrating to me because it was like, level from my first year of high school ahah)

I dropped out for multiple reasons, and went into an art school. And while there it was much more about doing art, we still had Art History which was all about analysng Arts stuff and writting essays about the influence of art on anything. It was something I was rather okay with. 

Well as for now I don’t study anything anymore (kinda dropped out from school for good, not my biggest pride there) but that had been my scholar cursus so far.

So ye. All about analysing and writting a goddamn lot all the time. 

Istg there’s two pages in the hxh manga that have me geeking out because of the meaning of the FRAMING and i’m just holding back to ramble for ever about them because this is?? so silly?? and it’s just that it’s aesthetically made for that I shouldn’t over-read into it, but man, i love framing analysis, but this is the easiest stuff to over-analyse at this point ahah. 

But while it makes it fun to analyse in general, it does have me write wayyyys too much for my own good and end up overanalysing details that probably shouldn’t be overanalysed.

And even if I dealt with it more or less well in school (I did get my diploma with a mention saying I had “Rather Good” results) I was often told that I was all over the place and sometimes had trouble to focus on the question I was asked, and while i was answering to it, it was just going in every direction with so much different points, it was a mess ahah. 

And like anyone would tell you, there’s the big risk that what I’m analysing using the rules i’ve been taught about were not at all the author intend because maybe the author didn’t know about those rules or didn’t apply them on purpose and it was just all about aesthetics.

And it’s not like I know all of those rules either, or pay attention to all of them all the time either. I still myself have a lot to learn!

But I guess indeed that’s the reason I reply to stuff like I do when it comes to overanalysing dkjfhdkjf

Thanks for the message nonny ❤