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#actually got a midterm today and im so fucking lost. well whatever. it is what it is.
90sbee · 5 months
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me in the middle of midterms, trying to nail this acting job, struggling to keep up with my other work and also obsessively losing my mind over the idea that i may in fact have a crush on a man after 15 years of not being into dudes and presenting as a lesbian for most of my adult life (it never realistically occurred to me that i would be interested in a man so i am losing my sense of self as well. who am i)
at least i do have a new computer though i've been so busy i haven't even been able to use it yet
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tuanhood · 4 years
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theta
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pairing: frat!bambam x reader
genre: smut
warnings: 18+, language, cringey frat stuff, fingering
word count: 4,400+ 
summary: you haven’t been doing so well in stats, so your tutor - the last person you thought would be teaching you something - recommends giving you an incentive. 
a/n: hi guys! i’m a little late... but it’s kinda technically still the weekend? ngl this definitely isn’t my best work and I’m sorry for that because I feel like I’ve been lacking a little bit lately! but i promise that i have a few things in the works that will hopefully be better! but nonetheless enjoY! 
lambda | alpha | delta | gamma | kappa | sigma
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“Okay so in a college class, the average IQ is 115. Assuming that the distribution is normal and that the standard deviation is 15. What percentage of the class has an IQ between 105 and 130?” 
You felt like you were going to die. 
When you were a little girl, you’d fantasize about all the fun and cool things you’d be able to do in college. Stay up late, hang out with your friends all the time, eat whatever you wanted, and take the classes that would help you become the best-selling author you aspired to be. 
In all of those daydreams and fantasies, you never pictured yourself in practical agony studying for a statistics class that you never wanted to take in the first place. You were more of an English and critical analysis girl, definitely not a science and math girl. Especially not stats. 
You told yourself probably a hundred times throughout the quarter that you could make it through. That you could maybe actually do this, but sometime between weeks three and four you got completely lost and when you received your midterm grade back, you knew you had to ask for help. 
“I don’t fucking know,” you exhaled in frustration as you practically slammed your head down onto the table in front of you. 
There’s a pause before Bambam lets out a sigh of his own, “let’s come back to that one later then.” 
This was how most of your sessions with Bambam went. He’d read the questions out loud to you as if was going to help, hope that you’d be able to solve it – which you typically wouldn’t – and then you’d give up in frustration. Then you’d call it a day. 
That was another thing. Another thing that made this whole tutoring thing even worse – you were being tutored by Bambam. As in Bambam of Theta Chi.
As dumb as you felt saying it, but you felt even more pathetic for having to be so terrible at stats that you have to be tutored by a frat boy. Sure he came highly recommended by the people at your school that put together and pair people off for the tutoring sessions, but it didn’t get rid of the pain you felt when you had to tell your friends who exactly was helping you pass stats. Or… at least trying to help. 
“Okay, so what is the probability of rolling snake eyes using two fair dice?”
Maybe you were being shallow, but even his voice screamed frat guy and not the master of statistics who is now teaching his peers. You don’t know why but it aggravated you. Traditionally he wasn’t supposed to be good at these kinds of things, someone like you was. It didn’t make sense. 
You groaned, your head still on the table, muffled by the surface, “I don’t know? 1/36?” 
At your answer, you could feel Bambam straighten up beside you. You had to admit the boy was a trooper for being willing to meet you at your apartment today instead of your usual spot in the library or at Starbucks. You just couldn’t be bothered to make the trek to campus, if you were going to have another agonizing day of probability, deviation, and whatever – it was going to be from the comfort of your living room floor. 
“Correct! See Y/N you’re not a lost cause.”
Bringing your head up from the coffee table, you grimace at him, “I never said I was a lost cause.” 
His cheeks turned a shade of light pink, clearly embarrassed by his statement, but being the cool and easygoing frat guy, he is – he covers it up, “I know. Dude, I’m just saying, chill.” Leave it to Bambam to cover up any real emotions. 
Even though it was frustrating that you were being tutored by a guy in Theta Chi and you felt lame whenever you admitted to anyone, it didn’t necessarily mean that you had anything against Bambam. Before he had started tutoring you, the encounters you had with Bambam were fine – certainly not an “oh my god you are so freaking annoying” situation. They were minimal of course, just a hello or a how are you at various school events or parties. You didn’t hate him, which was why at the beginning between the studying you had tried to talk to him and get to know him. But he never said anything real or authentic – it always felt like he was putting on some kind of ultra-frat boy act for you. Whenever you asked questions about him, things he liked to do, what he was studying or his family he would simply shy away from it and talk about Theta Chi. You didn’t get it. 
“Bambam is so freaking deep. I had a two-hour drunk conversation with him at Theta Chi’s party last weekend and my mind has been opened.” Your friend had told you when you told her about him tutoring you. 
So what? Did he have to be drunk to want to talk to you about something other than probability? Or was it just that he didn’t want to talk to you? You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it bothered you a little too much for some unexplainable reason.
“I am chill,” you confirmed with him – a bit too bitterly. You couldn’t tell if your annoyance came from the ongoing frustration of not understanding stats regardless of how many times you’ve met with Bambam or the fact that he was constantly shying away from you two actually getting to know each other. 
“Well…” he began suddenly, swallowing almost nervously, “what if we work on a rewards-based system?” 
You scoffed at him, “what am I? A child?” 
“Do you want me to answer that? Listen… all I’m saying is that rewards or a prize can be a good motivator sometimes. It definitely can’t hurt the studying process.” 
There was a part of you that felt annoyed at Bambam for thinking that the only way that you were going to understand any of this was through some kind of incentive. An incentive that had nothing to do with your overall goal which was to not fail the class. However, you had to admit you were curious as to what Bambam could bring to the table when it came to “rewards,” so you decided to play along – for now.
“What kind of motivators are we talking about?” 
For a second you swear you see Bambam fidget nervously in his seat, but it happens so quickly, you’re sure it must be your brain playing a trick on you, “I don’t know… I’m literally the co-social chair of Theta Chi so I pretty much can get you whatever you want. Booze, drugs… sex.” 
At his last “category” for rewards, your interest is peeked, but not in a weird or perverted way – you swear, “what the social chair orchestrates and plans sexual encounters now?” 
He laughed and shakes his head, “definitely not. I’m just saying… If there was anyone you were interested in at Theta Chi… I could probably set it up for you. I mean you’re definitely not bad looking so I don’t think it would be difficult.” 
You were half pleased by Bambam’s compliment and intrigued that by the fact that it seemed like perhaps his “non-tutoring” personality was emerging from the surface. It caused you to push more regarding his “reward” if it meant that you could see more of it, “So what? I solve the next equation and I get to fuck Im Jaebeom? Is that how this works?” 
He clicked his tongue, “Jaebeom, huh? Wouldn’t have thought he would be your type.”
For some reason, you suddenly felt a wave of nervousness rush through your body and you feel defensive as though you have to explain yourself for some reason, “No- I mean it was just an example.” 
Bambam nodded his slowly and looked away from you for the first time since he brought up the incentive thing. His focus goes back to the textbook in front of both of you, “It’s okay if he is. Jaebeom’s a chill guy.” 
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, for a moment there you almost got a hint of something from him. You weren’t quite sure as to what, but it almost felt like he was… jealous? But then he has to cower away and go back to stats… That was technically why he was sitting in your living room, but right now this seemed like the least important thing going on.
“What is it with you and chill? Does everything need to be chill? Why can’t you just be… normal?” 
He laughed at your query, “What if being chill is normal for some people?”  
You grabbed the pencil in front of you and tapped it on the table rhythmically in thought, “Chill people aren’t masters at stats. That’s just a fact.” 
Bambam’s face goes into fake shock, “really? Damn well, I guess that’s why you haven’t learned anything the last month that we’ve been doing this.”
It’s obvious that it was meant as a playful dig, to tease you, but Bambam feels his heart race when you simply frown in response instead of laugh. It was clear that he had gone too far. This was the thing he had been most worried about this entire time he had been tutoring you. 
He had heard from one of his brothers in Theta who knew a friend of yours that you felt embarrassed by being tutored by a frat guy – by him. Hearing that certainly didn’t make him feel good, but he tried his best to help you the last month or so. He didn’t want to do or say anything that could allude to “frat guy” behavior – so most of the time he tried to keep conversations statistics related. Part of him felt like it was because he was offended by your embarrassment, but another part of him felt like it was maybe because he wanted to impress you. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t the typical frat guy because you probably didn’t like that. 
But he had to admit… in certain ways, he was the typical frat guy and restricting that part of himself meant restricting segments of his personality. The teasing – that was apart of it. 
“Shit – y/n I’m sorry I didn’t actually mean it. I meant it more like-”
At his quick and panicked response, you burst out into a fit of giggles, “dude I can be chill too. I was just fucking with you. Now come on… let’s keep working, I want my prize.” 
Bambam lets out a sigh in relief. Maybe he had misjudged you, “so you do want a reward?” 
“Of course, I want a reward.”
He licked his lips in thought and you have to admit it’s hard not to stare, “okay what should we start with?” 
You began to tap the pencil on your chin instead of the table, thinking about what exactly it was you wanted. When you finally have your grand prize in mind, you figure it’s better to start small. 
“I don’t want to be charged cover at any future Theta Chi parties.” 
He looked at you with surprise written on his face, “you go to our parties?” 
You rolled your eyes at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he can’t help but admire how cute you look when you do it, “of course. They’re the biggest parties on campus… why wouldn’t I go?” 
Bambam shrugged, “I just didn’t think you liked frat stuff…” drifting off he looks to see the confusion written on your face and he doesn’t know why, but for some reason, he feels the need to keep talking, “Unless it’s for Jaebeom.” Immediately he wants to punch himself in the face for his continual teasing.
You thought it was funny how he was stuck on the Jaebeom thing. You had just said his name as an example – something you already explained to Bambam – but for some reason, it seemed to bother him. Bambam was more your type than Jaebeom, but it would have been weird if you had brought him up as an example.
“What was that?” 
His voice causes your body to jolt up in surprise. Had he heard you? No way.
“Y/N what did you just say?” Bambam asked once again.
The second question regarding what you had just said sends you into a frenzy, considering he was the last person who had just said something based on your recollection. Therefore… he fucking heard you. 
“Did I say that out loud?” You asked embarrassed and judging on the look on Bambam’s face – you have your answer. 
You felt your mouth go dry, “I- shit… Bam I didn’t mean- Well I mean I did, but- Fuck I-” you cut off your stuttering with nervous laughter and you feel more awkward than you’ve probably ever felt in your adult life. 
Rather than saying anything, Bambam looks at you curiously. A hint of a smile appears on his face but soon disappears as if he’s thought of an idea or just something. Hopefully, an idea to get me out of this, you think to yourself. Instead, he scoots closer next to you on the floor and for a moment you have to remind yourself to exhale. 
“Instead of the cover as your reward… What about…” he begins, placing his right hand onto your thigh, “this? Is this okay?” If you had to keep your breathing in check just when he moved closer to you, then you felt like you were going to need to be resuscitated now. 
Rather than verbally answering, you nodded your head, afraid to open your mouth in case the wrong thing came out.
Keeping his hand placed firmly on your thigh, he asked you the next question, “Suppose X and Y are independent random variables. The variance of X is equal to 16; and the variance of Y is equal to 9. Let Z = X – Y. What is the standard deviation of Z?” 
It’s becoming harder to concentrate. All you can focus on is the placement of his hand on your thigh and when you don’t answer right away, he begins to move it up and down your leg. 
“Come on, I know you can do this one,” he said softly. 
You couldn’t believe that your tutoring session was now taking a sharp turn – a turn that you had to admit you were now craving – but Bambam was still expecting you to be focused enough to answer questions. You weren’t able to typically do it even when you didn’t have his hand on you. 
It’s almost as though you’re on autopilot as you put your pencil to paper and work out the problem. The only thing on your mind is the curiosity of what his next move will be if you answer him correctly. 
“5?” 
He gives you your answer by drifting his hand up your thigh until it sits at the top of your thigh, dangerously close to your core. You wonder if he can tell how damp you’ve become, even with the sweatpants you’re wearing. It was probably evident just by looking at your face. 
“A coin is tossed three times. What’s the probability that it lands on heads exactly one time?” 
This was becoming frustrating. How the fuck were you getting turned on by him asking you stats questions? You felt like your brain was about to explode with how completely mixed up it felt. The cause of your stress for the entire quarter was now the cause of you being turned on? Your mind was currently rewiring itself.
For this question, it takes you some time to focus enough to work it out and calculate. Bambam who is usually patient with you when you struggle, has instead been replaced with a much more impatient version of himself as he slips his hand up to the waistband of your sweatpants, delicately playing with the top to tease you, you suddenly wished you would have worn better underwear for what’s about to happen. If you could answer the question that is. 
Just as you feel as though you’ve come to the end of the problem, you feel him dip a single finger underneath the top of the band, rubbing it softly against your stomach. It causes your hand to slip up on the paper, drawing a line right through your problem. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked innocently, completely aware of what he was doing to you, “do you need help?” 
You shook your head in response, unable to say anything. It was becoming more and more difficult to even get your hand to move fluidly on the paper. It was instead starting to get more jagged. Your fives were beginning to look more like threes. When you’ve finally solved the problem, you find yourself pointing at the paper for Bambam to look at your answer. He laughed. 
“Correct again. You’re doing so well,” he murmured as he finally dips his hand beneath the band of your sweatpants and down to your panties. You sucked a deep breath in, waiting in anticipation for his next actions, feeling him so much closer to where you need him the most, but instead, his hand just rests there, over the material. 
Letting a very out of character whine escape your lips causes him to chuckle. “Do you think you can have your reward that fast? No, no,” he tutted, “you have to finish answering all the questions like a good girl.” 
You try so hard to remember the next question he asks, but he soon begins gently rubbing you through your panties and it makes you want to kill him for playing so dirty. How were you able to solve any problems when it felt like an actual ocean was forming in your underwear? You knew Bambam could feel it too with the way his gaze on you got even darker, one of his fingers wandering to the side of your panties, playing with the hem but not daring to slip underneath. 
What the fuck was the question? 
“Having trouble angel?” 
He doesn’t give you time to answer – even if he did you weren’t sure you’d be able to provide him with one – instead, he slips his hand underneath your panties until his fingers find your entrance, slowly stroking up and down. You let out a moan when he’s left his index finger on your clit, rubbing small circles around the bundle of nerves. 
“It can’t be that hard to remember a simple question. Is something distracting you?”
Another sigh of pleasure is released from you when he presses down a bit to place more pressure on your clit, “I’ll ask you one more time. You have to remember this time or you lose your reward, okay? Are you listening?” 
Nodding your head, he smiled, “The standard normal curve is symmetric about 0 and the total area under it is 1. True or False?” 
Bambam himself was losing his patience, he so badly wanted to bring you to your release and see how tight you get around his fingers, how much you ask him for it. He had to admit that wasn’t the original question he had asked you, but at this rate, he just wanted to ask you the easier questions so both of you could get what you wanted. 
“T-True?” You managed to stutter out.
“Doing so well for me,” he whispered into your ear at your response. The teasing had been so achingly painful that when he finally fully inserts his pointer finger you feel like a kid on Christmas. You feel as though you can finally let out the breath you had been holding in since he started the taunting. 
The pace he starts with is clearly another method to get you worked up – which you certainly are – but you also felt thankful that at least it was something compared to the nothing you were getting from him previously. When he curls his finger, hitting you in the spot that drives you crazy, you felt your body instinctively jerk forward in surprise. He had found it so fast and with such ease, you wondered if the two of you had down this before in another life.  
“Bam, I-” you begin, but as his thumb draws circles over your clit, you ultimately lose your train of thought and fall even closer into him, until your head is resting on his shoulder.
“There’s one more question left… Do you think you can handle it?” 
The whimper you let out sounds borderline inhumane and in any other situation you would be frustrated with yourself for giving in so quickly, but right now you didn’t care. All you needed was him to keep going – to really give you your reward. The noise is enough for him to dive into the last question and you feel like you’re gonna pass out at the way he begins to rhythmically tap your clit, his finger now going stagnant.
His eyes drift down to the textbook on the table, gazing through which questions on the page are still viable to be asked. After a moment he locks eyes with you, the tapping still consistent. 
For a moment he looks shy and despite his previous teasing, you feel your heart leap out of your chest in deep want and longing. It’s a weird feeling you have to admit, but somehow it feels just right. 
“What’s the probability of you going out on a date with me after this?” Bambam blushed when he asked you his query and for some reason, he feels so small being in front of you – asking this – despite his current position with his hand in between your legs. 
You, on the other hand, have no trouble answering this final question. The question that’ll get you your reward and perhaps something else entirely. 
“Without a doubt, 100% chance.” 
The smile that emerged on his face is so big, you take a picture of it in your mind, wanting to keep it safe and bottle it up to view later, a hundred times over. 
He slipped in another finger, watching your face as it contorts into even more pleasure, “there we go.” 
You felt a groan arise in your throat as soon as he began to pick up the original pace of his sole finger. With both of them curling and pumping in and out of you, you felt even more overwhelmed than before. Bambam smirked, taking in your tightly shut eyes, “Good?” Opening your eyes, you felt your climax right around the corner, only able to moan his name in response to his question. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, leaning in to place his lips on your own.
Somehow, the pace of his fingers only increased, practically fucking into you over and over, hitting your g-spot each time. Even though you were sat on the floor, already mostly leaning onto Bambam for support, you still felt as though you could melt into the floor. With a final few pumps that hit your sweet spot and his thumb still massaging your clit, you feel your walls tighten around his fingers. “That’s it, good girl,” he said against your lips.  
Soon you fall apart, feeling as though there’s no breath left in your body, your body falling practically limp at your release around Bambam’s fingers. He takes a moment to slip his hand out from between your legs and you don’t ignore the feeling you get in your core again when he slowly places his fingers in his mouth. 
You groaned, feeling like you were practically in a sedative state at how relaxed your release made you feel, “do you have to do that?” 
Bambam narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “what do you mean?” 
“Be so damn seductive.” 
The two of you look at each other before bursting into laughter at your very serious confession. After a moment when it’s silent you look down at your lap to realize that somewhere during your encounter with Bambam, your sweatpants managed to slip down to the bottom of your thighs. 
“I should probably go get cleaned up…” 
Bambam coughed awkwardly and turned to his things on the coffee table, “yeah… I guess I should probably just get my stuff together too and get out of your hair.” 
Get out of your hair? Who the fuck says that Bam? He asked himself. 
You looked at him with confusion, “I thought you were taking me out? Remember? 100% chance? I mean… unless you didn’t mean it…” 
His eyes went big, “No!” he exclaimed, “I definitely meant it! I just didn’t know if maybe you said it in the moment and- Or I don’t maybe you did mean it- but also if you didn’t that’s cool. Just so you know I would have still given you your- uh reward if you had said no- Sorry I’m rambling. I ramble when I get nervous.” 
When he stops talking, he instantly avoids your gaze. This was the Bambam you wanted to see. This display of authenticity made you feel as though the curtain had finally been drawn. 
“I said it because it was true. The likeliness was 100%. Give me like 15 minutes and I’ll be ready to go,” just as you’re about to head to the stairs, you stop yourself and remember why the two of you were even here in the first place, “shit stats…” 
Instantly, Bambam shakes his head, “if you think we’re going to go back to probability, standard deviation, and bullshit right now after what just happened you are very mistaken. We’ve done enough… work for today.” 
Smiling, you nodded your head in confirmation and begin to go up the stairs to your room. Considering something, you find yourself stopping on the third stop, turning towards the living room where Bambam looks up at you with his head cocked to the side. 
“You picked easier questions towards the end on purpose, didn’t you?” 
He let out a laugh and grinned – another smile that you decided to file away in your memories, something that you figured might soon become a regular part of your life. 
“Let’s just say that I wanted to give you your reward as much as you wanted to have it.”
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katsukibby · 4 years
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flick
bakugou katsuki x reader (extraordinary you au)
summary: bakugou and midoriya are the main love interests for a romance manga and ochako is the main girl. (spoiler: she chooses deku) what happens when y/n, an extra, becomes self-aware that she’s nothing but a side character to help develop their relationships?”
!unedited!
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*flick*
wait a minute. wasn’t i just talking to jirou? why am i in the cafeteria now?
“ah! y/n! youre here! ive been looking for you!”
“huh? jirou? what are you…weren’t we just in the classroom?” She looked at me as if I was crazy.
“what do you mean? its finally time for lunch! did you hit your head at training or something?”
“training? what? but- we were still in class just now.”
*flick* 
i jerked back up as if i had just woken up. but i hadn’t. we haven’t even eaten yet. so.…why was the school day finished?
“y/n!! there you are! you seem to be harder to find than usual today!”
“jirou…did you hear that? and what about lunch?”
“lunch? its time to head back to the dorms. now that you mention it, i wonder what we’re having for dinner tonight!”
*flick*
“alright. l/n. get ready to spar with bakugou. i’m too tired to watch this so i’m gonna go ahead and nap. everyone else can judge today.”
“wait- aizawa-sensai!”
“tch. damn extra. hurry uP AND FIGHT.”
extra? me? wait a minute-
*flick*
“ochako-chan! are you alright?”
i didn’t mean to say that. why are we in the infirmary?
“huh? l/n-san? what am i doing here?”
“midoriya-kun carried you here after one of bakugou-kun’s explosions missed me and hit you instead!”
what? when did that happen?
*flick*
“it’s time to take your midterm. put your books away and take out a pencil and eraser.”
this shouldn’t be right. midterms shouldn’t start until three weeks! this must be some sort of prank. did i get hit by a quirk or something?
“woah! l/n! i haven’t seen your text book this beat up since middle school!”
“huh? jirou? but i just got this!”
“huh? are you trying to make me feel better by acting like you forgot what today is?”
i looked down at my book. she was right. it had tabs and- that’s my handwriting! but, i don’t remember writing any of this. how will i pass?
*flick*
what is that sound?
“alright. pencils down and pass up your papers.”
“wait a sec-”
kaminari took my paper before i could even look at it. did i even fill it out? why am i forgetting everything?
*flick*
“woah! l/n-chan got everything right!”
“it makes sense, she studied hard everyday until the midterm!”
what? what is going on? why can’t i remember anything that happened in between? and what is that noise?
i turned to jirou.
“hey, have i been acting weird lately?”
“huh? no, not really. but just the fact that you’re asking that question makes me wonder if something is wrong. what’re you thinking about?”
“it’s nothing really, i just can’t seem to remember certain things. for example, i don’t even remember taking the midterm!”
“eh? that’s probably because you sped through it since you knew all the answers. i wouldn’t worry too much.”
she grinned at me and turned away. 
what am i going to do now? 
*flick*
ah. it’s lunch again. i’m not hungry so i guess i’ll just go to the library instead.
the library was eerily empty for lunch time. that was the least of my concerns though. i had to figure out what was going on. i checked all the aisles to see if there was something that could tell me what was wrong. in the corner of my eye i saw a book that seemed to be wiggling out of place. i reached up and grabbed it. i opened the book to discover it was a manga. a romance manga? why do these characters seem so familiar? is that- ochako-chan? midoriya-kun? and bakugou-kun? why are they in this? i had so many questions. but most importantly-
what was i doing in this?
*flick* 
i gasped. why was it my turn to lay down in the infirmary? and where did that book go? i tried to get up but i couldn’t move. no matter how hard i tried. i couldn’t even speak. what was going on now? i heard muffled voices. 
“if you get close to bakugou-kun again i’ll kill you!”
“i can’t believe how shameless you are to use his money to even go to this school!”
“your quirk is so weak, there is no way you’ll be a hero!”
“i bet you just seduced him in order to get into class A!”
“why don’t you do us all a favor and leave bakugou-kun alone for once?”
i wasn’t sure who was talking but before i knew it i was standing up on my own. 
“hey! leave ochako-chan alone!”
“heehee whatever you say!” the group of girls giggled and proceeded to shove ochako to the ground before locking us in. i looked at her to find her on the verge of tears.
“hey, ochako-chan it’s ok! i should be able to open the door for us!” 
i was not at all confident that i could open this door.
however, i surprised us and opened it with ease.
“oh. uh. i didn’t know i could do that. um. well, i guess i’ll see you later? i kinda have to get to the library now!” i sprinted out and closed the door before she could say anything and closed the door behind me. i turned the corner to see midoriya-kun running while shouting ochako-chan’s name. “she’s in the infirmary!” i told him. he looked startled but proceeded to run towards the room anyways.
once i made it back to the library i began to search for the book again. i found it in the same spot and all the questions i had seemed to be answered. i- was in a manga? and i’m not even the main character? what is this? bakugou-kun and midoriya-kun are love rivals? i let out a deep sigh and shook my head. i can’t believe i’m just some extra that shows up for their convenience.  
*flick*
i’ve gotten used to this by now. it’s as if there are two worlds within this one: the stage and the shadow. the stage is where all of the main story line occurs, but the shadow is where all of the time in between happens. there, other characters have no clue what is happening and forget everything that occurred when the next scene starts. so far, it seems like no one else has realized what kind of world we live in.
as i walked lost in thought, i bumped into bakugou.
“oof- sorry bakugou-kun! ah- it’s not like you’ll remember this anyways. you know- you’re actually kind of cute. too bad, you’re a main character and i’m just an extra, like you always say. i also feel kind of bad for you, you have second lead syndrome. oh well! it’s not like you get what i’m saying!”
“what the fu-”
i did this to him often. while reading the manga, i have to admit, i became quite a fan of his. all of the cringy flirting and cliche lines aside, he was quite the attractive character. he almost made me wish i was ochako.
*flick*
aww how nice! the author has gifted me with some free banana milk! but- why?
“hi l/n-chan!”
“ochako-chan! you’re here early!”
her stomach growled. 
ah. that’s why. why couldn’t i have it just this once? don’t i deserve it for working so hard as a side character? 
“you haven’t eaten yet? here take this!” i reluctantly gave it to her with a grimace and turned to see bakugou-kun approaching us. 
“you. come with me.”
i’m so jealous of ochako. she gets to be crushed on by bakugou, while im stuck here trying to help her decide between which boy helps her more. i can’t believe she’s going to pick midoriya and not bakugou.
*flick*
i sighed as i was finally released from the stage. i stretched and looked at my classmates. i thought this would be the perfect opportunity for them to start flirting or something, but to my surprise bakugou was looking at me. i looked around and pointed at myself. 
“me? not- not ochako-chan?” i stuttered in disbelief. she was already running away and towards midoriya who waved for her to come over.
“the fuck? no. i’m talking to you, you damn extra.”
“um...ok? what’s up?” i asked awkwardly. 
why was he talking to me? this wasn’t supposed to happen. he should be teasing ochako by taking her (my) milk by now. 
“i thought about what you said last time and it just doesn’t make sense.”
“huh? last time? what did i say?”
“man, you really are crazy. you know, you kept talking about how i’m a main character or something and that i wouldn’t remember what you said.”
my eyes widened. he wasn’t supposed to remember that. now what’s happening? my life is so strange these days. i seem like a broken record.
“um. you must be remembering wrong. i- i never said anything like that!” i laughed nervously. he could obviously tell i was lying. 
“fine. don’t help me. i’ll just figure it out by myself. i can’t believe i tried asking for  fucking help.” he whispered to himself. 
“we live in a manga!” i blurted out suddenly. “you and midoriya-kun are the main characters and you both have a crush on ochako-chan!”
there was no way he would believe that.
“you- uh you must be thinking you’re going crazy right? you hear strange noises and you can’t remember certain events even though you were sure you were doing something before hand?”
“how...the fuck did you know?” he looked at me with shock. i sighed and grabbed his wrist.
“just follow me,” i took him to the library and shoved the manga in his hands. “read this. it’ll tell you everything you need to know. bye now!” i nudged him in the direction of the exit. 
“wait, what the fuck is this?” he seemed so different from his typical bad, angry boy personality. he seemed even more attractive with this confused look on his face. 
he read everything and reached the empty pages. “what is this?” 
“oh, well the author hasn’t written those parts yet. that’s why everything looks like this.” for the first time, he was aware that some of the furniture in the room was floating. “it’s like this because we are in the shadow, not the stage.”
“the what?” 
“basically the stage is where all of the main parts of the manga occur and the shadow is where we are now. everything we do here won’t be remembered by the other characters.” i explained nonchalantly. “so, how does it feel? to know you aren’t going to end up with ochako-chan?”
“honestly, i could care less. every time i was in the ‘shadow’ i seemed to feel as if i lost my purpose. at least i still have my quirk.”
“man, you really are different from the manga. you’re so calm right now.”
“hey! what the fuck does that mean?!”
“jeez, never mind then. come on, let’s go to class.”
“wait!” i looked back at him. 
“what?”
“don’t you want to...i don’t know, change the story? isn’t worth a try? we’re both just supporting characters. what harm can we cause?”
“you don’t think i’ve tried? i did everything i could think of to try and change the story.”
“but what if we-”
*flick*
“bakugou-kun! i’ve been looking for you!” ochako approached him.
“you idiot. jeez don’t run around with your laces untied.” bakugou bent down to tie her shoes.
jeez. could the author get any more cheesy? this makes me want to throw up.
“i told you i would get you new shoes!” midoriya cut in. “i can’t stand watching you get bullied over something as small as this!”
“i’ll take care of her deku.” bakugou glared at him.
oh my god just speed up this scene already. what am i even here for?
“i’ll just go shopping with l/n-chan! she seems to have the best style in the class! besides, i saved up enough to buy a new pair!”
“you can count on me ochako-chan!”
*flick*
“i thought that scene would never end!” i spoke aloud. i glanced at bakugou to catch him staring at me. “what?” he just glared and walked away.
weird.
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bakugou and i have been spending a lot of time together. we make fun of our classmates and call them out in their faces. it’s pretty fun being able to yell at mineta all we want for being such a perv. not to mention, bakugou practically beats him up every time he’s near us. bonding with bakugou has become my favorite past time and i’m beginning to wonder what i would do if he didn’t become self-aware. however, the only bad thing about this was that i was beginning to like him. not just as a character, but as a person. i was way past the fangirl stage since i actually get to talk to him now. the worst part is that he actually likes ochako. both on the stage and in the shadow. i’ve come to this conclusion since he won’t shut up about trying to change the story line. i’m not sure what to do since there’s no one else for me to talk to about all of this.
“you need to help me. i’m so tired of being an extra.”
“what do you mean? you literally get so many lines and! you’re one of the main love interests!”
“but i don’t want to do this anymore, knowing that i won’t even get the girl! we have to change this story!”
“too bad! how do you think i felt? watching you for so long, knowing that i wasn’t fated to end up with you!” i gasped. “wait- i- forget i said that!”
“what?”
“nothing! it’s nothing! i just-” i could feel my eyes swell with tears.
is this how ochako feels when the author makes her cry every two scenes?
“even a fool could tell how i feel about you.”
i looked up into his crimson eyes. 
did he just-
“what? what do you mean?” 
“you idiot. i like you too. why do you think i’ve been bugging you to try and change the story?”
“ i thought it was because you wanted to end up with ochako-chan instead,” i took a deep breath. “why didn’t you tell me sooner!”
“i thought you could tell! you always catch me staring at you after scenes so i thought you knew!” he was smiling. he’s never smiled like this at me before. it was...nice. comforting. warm.
“let’s change this story.”
*flick*
(a/n: this is my first fanfic! i know i could use improvement, but i just wanted to write it because i felt like it :) also, if it was a little confusing, the flicks are supposed to be the sound of the pages turning. hope you enjoyed the story <3)
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wolfguy13-blog · 7 years
Text
Aftermath of the party? it’s time to change my priorities.
So. How are you doing? I’m peachy. Typing this out at 12:45am on a Wednesday night might give you a hint about what’s coming or maybe im just being extra? hmph. On Halloween I had a busy day starting with getting some tasks done like laminating my new board game, exploding kittens, and getting my convocation photos taken. the lamination I found out later that day, wasn’t able to be done due to the type of cards they were and so I ordered sleeves to put them in. The convocation photos made me super nervous. I had gotten my hair done by the barber at the university and she told me to come to her before my photos so she could style my hair for me which I thought was extremely sweet of her! I went to get my photos taken and nervously put on my gown and got my photoshoot done. some came out nicely and some not too great, but I only saw the pixelated and darker versions so maybe the actual ones will be better. 
Once that was done, I went to law class without both my law buddies being there and then I caught the bus to masonville mall and went to the beer store and  bought two cans of energy drinks(which I never drank that day) and caught the bus home. I showered, got my superman/clark kent costume on and left for the party. I got to the party at the same time as one of my friends from the jsa, who definitely gave me attention and enjoyed hanging out with me. As soon as we entered, the president guessed my costume as Harry Potter. I laughed and told him he was wrong. Lucky for him I really like HP so it wasn’t too bad. Guess what he was? A banana. yes. A banana. He literally wore a banana suit over his shirt and shorts. yes shorts to a party, and yes my inner fashion police was judging him hard haha. 
Anywho, I didn’t spend too much time with him personally because he was giving everyone attention as a host so at the end of the day i’m still unsure whether or not to invite him to my birthday party. He is stuck in that spectrum from friend and good friend and I don’t like that because it’s such an annoying place to be and I never know how to change someone’s status from casual to friend to an actual friend. The problem is also that he’s super nice, and hasn’t done anything wrong. Like either go up the scale and hang out with me or do something stupid to make me dislike you so I can move on from the uncomfortable friendship spectrum. ugh. I mostly hung out with several people besides him and I had fun playing card games and exploding kittens without him as he was socializing with everyone. Like I get it, being a host, you can’t just give me attention so I’ll let this slide. But, now i’m definitely still wondering what to do with this lost soul. We did that cool bro handshake before I told him I had fun at the party and thanks for inviting me. too much? Won’t be surprised if it was. Anyways, I went outside with a bunch of my jsa friends and we froze waiting for the bus. But, I actually had a lot of fun chatting with those guys and cracking jokes. And, then the bus finally arrived, I said my goodbyes as I left at my stop and went home where my later my roomie took the most wicked ass photos of me in my costume - which everyone liked, including those I literally added at the party and yes you guessed it - the jsa president didn’t like it. Atleast not yet, but 24 hours later the odds fall below so what the fuck is he doing is out of my understanding. Also, also, also, I saw him on my bus tonight when I was going back from Aikido. I was too tired to say hi and I think he didn’t see me and was wearing his headphones too so idk man. I thought about it in the few minutes i was on the bus to go say hi but then so many people came into the bus, it seemed like a struggle. I would also like to mention my feelings for him to move along the spectrum is because I hate this phase where you can’t really be actual friends and you need time for a friendship to grow. Like it would’ve made some difference if I said hi today cause apparently the more you see someone the more you like them so idk. Also, the odds are since I wanted him to be my ‘friend’ the world will not work that way. Maybe If i play hard to get, the world will throw him towards me. Atleast that how I note things usually happen. But enough is enough, he can do whatever but i’m not wasting my time with this anymore. After I got my grades back I need to re-evaluate everything. 
Yes, i was being sad that this term was over and gave my midterms without ant emotions attached which was unusual since I get super anxious. I got a 60 in Law, a 57.5 in Strategic Management, and a 77 in psychology. I fucked up in the first 2. theres still a chance for me to bring it up since their compositions werent too high but its still a good reality check for me to get my shit together. After dancing my heart out to Old-school Taylor Swift, I don’t feel too upset and I’m officially ready to get my priorities straight. 
Maybe I got such grades for a reason. It’s high time I focus what I came here to do and stop wasting time with nonsensical thinking. This is almost as bad when I suffered infatuation and its heartbreak in first year over a girl. I told myself and everyone who would listen I wouldn’t do it again, and now I did something similar for the stupid... - I cant even call him stupid because he’s so nice. fuck. whatever, stupid me for thinking of him so much. End verbal diarrhoea. Hope your guys halloween went well too! Just got to get through the rough days in life. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I’m not giving up yet, 
M
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