#and if i go a year later i can dual enroll and then when i get my diploma i’ll get my associates too so

[zugarcubes]

What a happy lil family! Love them sm :3

Charolette Durand (bottom right) is the daughter of Dai and Araignée Durand. She transferred to UA from a private school in France.

Her Mother, Araignée, is a rescue hero named Loomara. Her quirk is called Orb-Weaver. She can practically go anything an Orb-Weaver spider can, but cooler. Part of her quirk allows her to create special clothing by merging a users DNA with her spider silk. She uses this power to create clothes for heroes, children, and her daughter, who have a hard time controlling their quirks.

Her father, Dai, is the former known as Undo. His quirk is called cancel, which means any powers used on him won’t work. (This also includes any quirks that involve healing people.) This does not apply to people who are already strong without powers. He lost his arm and ear in one of his last duals. Araignée was the hero who saved him, and also put him behind bars. Turns out, Undo never wanted to actually be a convict. He was placed between a rock and a hard place, and villain work was his easiest way out. After many years of counseling, and flirting, he was eventually freed under the circumstances that Araignée would watch over him.

Charolette was born with a heteromorph quirk that gave her four eyes, which everyone assumed would mean she would take after her mother. However, when she was around 7, she developed the quirk called nullification. Those within a certain radius of her will temporarily have their quirk nullified. The backside to this quirk was that it would cause her severe migraines. The stronger the quirk, the stronger the migraine. Her mother custom makes her clothes and uniform so that she doesn’t feel overwhelmed all the time. She did Gymnastics, Fencing, and Savate growing up.

Transferring to UA was hard for her. She also only got in because Inasa chose to not enroll to school there. She had a hard time learning Japanese and had a heavy French accent. Luckily, Aoyama was able to help her out. She’s enrolled in Vlad King’s class though, which means she doesn’t spend a lot of time with him. Her least favorite students in the hero course are Monoma, Tetsutetsu, Bakugo, and Kirishima. She finds that their personalities are too loud and dreads being around them. Her favorite students are Honenuki, Yanagi, Todorki, and Ojiro.

More art of her bc I love her hehehe ^^

I’ll be posting info about my oc Hayahiko Yoshido later!! But they’re both tolerant of each other hehehe.

I’m still working on her hero costume tho

[studywithsare]

Update: BLS class & Microbiology

Hi tumblr!

I just wanted to hop on here and give an update. So, I haven't touched the BLS course material since Monday, and I didn't even get to do as much as I had wanted :( It's okay though! That class isn't until January 8th, today is December 6th, so I still have plenty of time to get that done and be ready for the in-person portion of getting my certification :) I'll do at least an hour today, like I planned. Also, since I want to be a sonographer, that means either going to sonography school right away, or doing rad tech and then furthering my education for sonography. Either way, these programs are COMPETITIVE! I was looking up if my GPA (2.6) would even have be eligible to apply, and it can be depending on the program. However, I was reading an advice post from those who do admissions into these programs, and she was basically saying that while that is the MINIMUM to apply, most years the LOWEST that gets accepted is a 3.5

I can get to a 3.6, but I'm gonna have to retake several classes and get A's in them T_T It's okay though! I'm happy my GPA isn't a total lost cause, and also I feel much more ready for college now than I did when I was a freshman. This also means I NEED to get this BLS, so I can get some work experience in this field because the post also said that some students had even lower GPA's (like maybe a 3.3) but they had other strong things about their application (other degrees, work experience, and A's in the important classes like math and science).

She said it's dependent on the program obviously, but work/volunteer experience, your interview (if they do interviews), and entrance exam scores can help strengthen your chances.

So I need to be:

Getting my BLS so I can get some work/volunteer experience

Retake classes to raise my GPA (As preferably to raise my GPA as much as I can) Since I'm paying out of pocket, and only get 3 tries at a class, if I feel burnt out, then I will take a break. I am not ruining my chances at getting into this field because I want to rush it. Good things take time.

Look into strengthening my interviewing skills

Look into what is tested on in the entrance exams, and work on studying for those too

1 and 2 are my main priority right now though, and I'm not anywhere near being able to get into a program T_T There aren't even any good ones near me. There's two at two community colleges, which I thought were better than for profit, but these community colleges aren't CAAHEP accredited either T_T They are both JRCERT. I've heard if your school isn't CAAHEP accredited, then you shouldn't even bother because you can't take your exams T_T I'm gonna look more into this

I've been trying to register to retake microbiology, because I failed it :( However, the system my school uses keeps saying it's full when it ALSO SAYS there are 2 spots available...I didn't know you can register with an add/drop form (lol) so I submitted one of those. It says it'll take 2-3 business days so...hopefully I get in T_T Wish me luck! Also, I can't believe how many departments and people I have emailed about this issue and NO ONE has gotten back to me! My school is honestly really lousy when it comes to getting back to you. I sent out like 3 emails asking for a counseling appointment. Nothing. I went in and she made me an appointment right then and there. There was no one else waiting to make an appointment...yet no one could get back to my email. My sister said she's had them HANG UP ON HER! She was in high school at the time and doing dual enrollment. Her high school counselor said he'd call them, and they ended up hanging up on him too...smh.

Anyway, enough rambling, I am gonna go and I will be back later with hopefully good news that I got my class! :D

[clonerightsagenda]

And the Elrics before I have to go take care of other stuff

Ed and Al grew up as rural kids being raised primarily by their mom. Hohenheim is a classics professor who spends a lot of time on sabbatical in other countries doing research on ancient civilizations. Trisha had a progressive health condition and ended up having a fainting episode while driving, crashing the car and killing herself and badly hurting Ed, who now has prosthetics. Ed holds this against Hohenheim because he feels Trisha wouldn't have been driving if Hohenheim were there. (Meanwhile Hohenheim is a hands off parent because he had a terrible upbringing and doesn't know how to raise children, but we'll get to that later.)

Trisha's condition was one of those that gets passed down by X chromosomes and only manifests if you have two. Al is trans in this AU and so could potentially develop it. Since Ed cannot fistfight God in a college AU, he has instead dedicated himself to finding a cure and is studying chemistry with the goal of going into pharmaceuticals. Because they're rural kids who didn't have access to AP or IB tests, against his strongest wishes they are forced to accept the family tuition waivers and attend Hohenheim's university. Ed always crosses the street rather than walk past Hohenheim's building. Al sometimes goes and has lunch in his office. Their relationship is quietly tolerant, although there was one bad moment early on when Hohenheim had been so checked out he didn't know about Al's transition and was like uh... who are you? (Equivalent to the 'Dad!?' 'My antique armor!?' moment.)

Ed and Al got placed into all intro classes because of the lack of advanced class options at their high school. They are both prodigies - Ed always taught Al whatever he was learning anyway, so Al got bumped up a grade which is why they're both freshmen together - and a few days in their chemistry instructor (Roy) can tell they're bored stiff. Al is being polite about it, but Ed keeps raising his hand in the middle of lectures and asking very complicated questions to be a smartass. To get them out of his lecture hall and get some more free labor, Roy arranges for them to take independent study in his lab instead.

Al is also taking chem but is on the pre vet track. As much as he loves cats, he's looking at large animal practice - rural areas need large animal vets! The dual enrollment high schooler at the vet school has a puppy crush on him, and he is being a gentleman about it. Ed has never been a gentleman about anything in his life.

A running plot point is that during freshman year, Al starts having dizzy spells but keeps it under wraps because he's hoping it's unrelated (stress? overwork? dining hall food?) and if Ed finds out he will Lose His Shit and frankly he didn't have much shit to begin with.

[fvlmincre]

[  riley  keough,  cis  woman,  she/her  ]  —  whoa!  AUDEN  MONROE  just  stole  my  cab!  not  cool,  but  maybe  they  needed  it  more.  they  have  lived  in  the  city  for  HER  WHOLE  LIFE,  working  as  a  GHOST  WRITER/CONCEPT  ARTIST.  that  can’t  be  easy,  especially  at  only  32  YEARS  OLD.  some  people  say  they  can  be  a  little  bit  MERCURIAL  and  JUDGMENTAL,  but  i  know  them  to  be  GENIAL  and  ASSIDUOUS.  whatever.  i  guess  i’ll  catch  the  next  cab.  hope  they  like  the  ride  back  to  BROOKLYN!

STATS

FULL NAME: auden grace monroe

BIRTHDAY: february 3rd, 1991

BIRTHPLACE: upper west side, manhattan, new york

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual / biromanitc

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: english ( fluent ) & french ( fluent )

HEIGHT: 5'7"

HAIR COLOR: copper red

EYE COLOR: blue

OCCUPATION: ghost writer / concept artist

BIOGRAPHY

auden  was  born  into  a  family  invested  in  literature  —  her  father  a  longstanding  editor  for  random  house  before  its  big  merger  with  penguin  in  2013,  while  her  mother  is  a  beloved  gothic  and  victorian  literature professor  at  columbia  university.  it  came  only  natural  that  the  monroe  children  would  be  born  with  names  to  reflect  such  a  shared  love  for  the  written  word.  atticus  (  named  after  their  parents’  mutual  love  for  to  kill  a  mockingbird,  age  37  ),  emerson  (  named  after  one  of  their  mother’s  favorite  poets,  age  34  ),  auden  (  named  after  her  father’s  favorite  poet,  age  32  ),  and  matilda  (  named  after  the  shared  love  for  the  ronald  dahl  novel  of  the  same  name,  age  28  ).  it  became  less  a  matter  if  auden  and  her  siblings  would  enjoy  reading  as  a  hobby,  but  when.  especially  since  books  were  oftentimes  scattered  around  the  brownstone  townhouse  the  bustling  family  lived  in,  from  the  novels  being  discussed  in  her  mother’s  courses,  to  the  manuscripts  in  her  father’s  office  that  auden  would  more  often  than  not  sneak  into  to  read.

creativity  was  embraced  in  the  monroe  household,  but  not  to  an  extent  that  should  auden  or  her  siblings  find  more  academic  holding  in  stem  that  it  should  deter  them.  auden  herself  would  discover  her  dual  love  for  art  and  writing  at  an  early  age,  oftentimes  drawing  illustrations  to  work  alongside  the  short  stories  she  would  write.  she  remembers  the  encouragement  of  her  parents,  even  going  to  show  her  how  her  passion  for  her  two  skills  can  be  applied  to  many  creative  forms  whether  that  be  children’s  books,  comics,  or  even  graphic  novels.  to  auden,  her  artistic  ability  shined  brighter  than  her  storytelling  abilities.  for  this  reason  she  would  sharpen  her  focus  on  her  drawing  skills,  practicing  enough  and  enrolling  in  extracurricular  classes  that  would  allow  her  to  hone  in  on  her  craft.  her  parents’  income  allowed  for  auden  to  be  tutored  privately,  keeping  her  grades  up  across  the  board  so  she  could  later  on  apply  to  the  rhode  island  school  of  design  for  drawing. 

high  school  fades  into  college  where  auden  does  go  on  to  pursue  an  illustration  degree  from  rhode  island  school.  during  this  time  she  still  writes,  dabbles  in  her  journal  with  short  stories  and  ideas  for  potential  future  writings,  but  that’s  all  she  ever  really  views  it  —  dabbling.  for  as  much  as  auden  would  like  to  write  her  own  book  and  have  a  finished  manuscript,  like  the  ones  that  look  at  home  on  her  father’s  desk  in  his  office,  auden  struggles  putting  the  pieces  together  to  form  a  full  and  cohesive  narrative.  or  so  she  tells  herself.  it’s  with  that  in  mind  that  she  decides  her  future  holds  best  a  career  that  showcases  her  art.  her  undergraduate  years  are  filled  with  hard  work  and  fun,  before  auden  is  walking  across  the  stage  with  her  degree  in  hand.

auden  takes  up  odd  jobs  here  and  there  in  the  first  three  years  post  college  when  she  moves  back  home  to  manhattan,  not  quite  feeling  fulfilled  at  what  she’s  doing  with  her  art  when  she  knows  she’s  capable  of  so  much  more.  it’s  on  a  whim  that  auden  decides  to  apply  at  video  game  company  for  their  open  concept  artist  position  despite  not  being  much  of  a  video  game  person  herself.  her  flair  for  details  between  conceptual  character  art  and  landscapes  is  what  earns  her  the  job  and  as  she  settles  in,  auden  comes  to  realize  that  she’s  found  her  place.

as  the  years  progress  and  auden  enters  her  late  twenties,  she  meets  her  partner  where  the  two  would  eventually  go  on  to  become  engaged.  auden  settles  into  her  career  with  a  promotion  and  pay  raise  before  slowly  dipping  her  toes  back  into  writing.  she  may  have  stopped  writing  in  her  journal  as  much,  but  it’s  with  the  insistence  of  her  father  that  she  doesn’t  bury  her  voice  and  somehow  finds  herself  in  the  side  gig  of  a  ghost  writer.  her  parents  both  think  auden  is  more  than  capable  to  fully  devote  herself  to  writing  her  own  book  and  it  being  successful  on  its  own  merit,  but  for  now,  auden  is  happy  to  write  out  the  inner  machinations  of  someone  else's  mind.  auden  pushes  her  own  self  doubts  regarding  her  creativity  to  the  side  and  enjoys  the  budding  collection  on  her  bookshelf  of  books  she’s  technically  written,  but  have  the  name  of  someone  else.  the  books  act  as  a  physical  reminder  that  her  writing  is  good  enough  to  be  published  even  if  she  hasn’t  ever  taken  the  plunge  with  her  own  ideas.  auden  is  content  with  where  she  is  in  both  her  art  career  and  her  writing  pursuits.

in  terms  of  her  romantic  life,  auden  wishes  she  was  as  thriving  as  she  is  in  her  career.  she  and  her  partner  were  together  for  five  years  and  engaged  for  a  year  and  a  half  when  the  two  made  the  mutual  decision  to  part  ways.  each  claim  a  differing  reason  as  to  why  they  grew  apart,  but  the  only  agreeable  bit  of  information  is  that  the  two  are  stuck  together  in  their  lease  for  another  few  months  since  whoever  breaks  it  is  responsible  to  pay  both  halves  of  the  rent  until  the  end  of  the  lease.  never  one  to  retreat  with  her  tail  between  her  legs,  auden  keeps  her  complaints  to  the  confines  of  her  family  and  is  sticking  it  out  in  hopes  of  moving  onto  the  next  chapter  of  her  life  soon.  sharing  an  apartment  with  your  now  ex  is  less  than  desirable,  but  auden  is  hoping  that  it  at  least  builds  character.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

childhood friends pls !!! auden grew up in nyc so perhaps they lived in the same neighborhood or met in the park or any other way !!

general besties

most recent hinge date or blind date ... could have ended horribly or a hook up or even just on friendly terms

someone that auden frequents the dumbo flea market with

bookstore buddy who auden likes to drag w her to buy books bc they have a nice routine of coffee and reading

apartment neighbors !!! tho bear in mind that auden lives in williamsburg, brooklyn

maybe a frequent hookup that auden is seeing as she's trying to get over her ex that she has to continue to live with

someone who frequents the same estate sale listings as auden and the two have the same taste and often have to duke it out for the vintage candelabra

drink buddies bc everyone needs a solid call up when you need a martini

[okieize]

   ( felix lee, demi man, he + they ) — look what the werecat’s dragged in! if you take a look at our records, you’ll find that RION KWON is a/n TWENTY THREE year old PÂTISSIER that’s been in cromerth woods for TWO YEARS. according to this file, they’re a DHAMPIR hailing all the way from MACKAY. that must be why they’re ALLURING and INTOLERANT. if you ask me, they remind me of   stars  that  couldn’t  quite  fit  into  his  eyes, so  they  splattered  across  his  cheeks +  dancing queen by ABBA playing in the distance while someone bleeds out on the bathroom floor from 17 stab wounds +  the  sexual  tension  between  a  healthy  portrayal  of  emotions  vs  saying,  “  i  think  i  am  going  to  die  ”. they are allied with THE DIAMONDS.

YOU’RE THEIR FIRST LOVE, DON’T BREAK THEIR HEART. all they ask is for love & care. THEY DON’T GET TO CHOOSE from where it comes. close your eyes. go ahead, do it. imagine ━━ imagine, disappointment lurking at every corner, always standing PROUD and at the READY. you’re their first love. DON’T BREAK THEIR HEART. their parents don’t follow this rule. he’s a shiny new toy ….. something to dress up & flaunt. they don’t get to choose from WHO it comes from. why’s it his responsibility to be so exceptional?

OUTLINE. past.

born 19/12/00 in mackay australia.

would visit his dad’s hometown of sujeong-dong, busan, during holidays & such. for this reason, he grew up speaking both korean AND english.

has a twin sister ( ryhan ) who is precisely thirteen minutes older than him.

always was a bit of an oddball. liked jabbing his fingers into the eyes of any & all plushies he could get his hands on.

which steadily turned into making makeshift executions for all of his sister's toys. ( his favorite being the decapitation of her dolls )

both his parents are human BUT they both also have ( had ) mutants in their family ancestry.

rion took an early interest in sparring and weapons which led to his parents enrolling him in taekwondo.

started out in introductory gymnastics at three & then moved into taking taekwondo once he turned six.

once earning their 9th belt, rion was able to fine-tune his dual specialties.

it was originally thought that ize was a quick learner ( which he actually IS ) but, it’d later be revealed it was an added perk of his mutation ability.

OUTLINE. psychological mastery & doppelgänger physiology.

isn’t sure when his mutations truly manifested themselves.

it’d be chalked up to him being either incredibly good at reading others or him being a swift learner.

rion himself became self-aware of the mutation at around eleven.

due specifically to their psychological mastery, rion tends to be overly paranoid & suspicious of others. leading him to develop some pretty gnarly social anxiety in his teens ( that they're still trying to overcome fully) and to become overly picky about the intake of his foods.

in short: he picked up cooking as a means to appease this paranoia.

also uses it on an everyday basis because it’s constantly active.

the doppelgänger physiology is believed to have actually been caused by his sister, who has the same power. instead of being a true clone/copy of ryhan though, he came out more so flawed ( if you would ). he is taking on more of the mythological route & truly being the evil twin.

having developed psychological mastery, they use it on an everyday basis. it comes in handy when having to put the schmooze on those unlucky enough to warrant a visit from him.

OUTLINE. vessel.

around 16 or 17, he figures “fuck it” & ventures out on his own. if he isn’t acceptable enough to his family, then they can kick rocks.

his relocation takes him to sydney to stay with a close ( i.e. ONLY ) friend, that he’d met through various competitions.

myles ( the friend ) is the son of the founder / president of vessel & is the one to recruit rion into the organization.

not truly understanding the severity of agreeing, they do it anyways.

just as with taekwondo, rion quickly moves his way up through the ranks & becomes the most sought-after employee, for clients & members alike.

by november of ‘22, rion ( at the request/demand of the founder ) tags along to chicago, to the newest location of vessel.

when not on a call, their time is spent working as a patissier @ self care. not that the money is really needed, considering where he stands with the big boss. BUT. it keeps them occupied.

[slattery24]

About Me

Hi! My name is Jamie! I'm 17 and a dual-enrollment student in my senior year of high school.  I wasn’t technically born in Florida, but I moved here when I was two and basically grew up here entirely.  After high school, I plan to likely major in biology or public health and later go through the process so I can become a licensed dental hygienist!  However, I also love art and drawing and would love to do something involving that in the future if the chance ever arises.  I specifically find storyboarding and illustration very interesting!  Aside from that, two of my favorite things to do in my free time are crocheting and reading!  Currently, I've just started reading A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara!

[meangirls2004]

can i rant i’m gonna rant

[bettertwin9000]

Hey Donatello first off you 100% do not need to answer unless you actively want to, this was more of a rant I do not mean to burden you, but

Second off, hello! Very very stressed dual enrollment anon here that is taking 18 credit hours for her last year of high school when she only needs 3, plus being in a position of leadership in band which takes SO much time-

How do you handle the burnout? It’s getting to a breaking point and I don’t wanna meltdown and freak out my parents, but I don’t know what I can do, I feel stuck and the senioritis and stress and seasonal depression is really getting to me. I have no free time, I’m dropping in all of my classes, I’m having trouble eating, sleeping, focusing, etc and the people around me are beginning to notice, especially in band. I need it to stop before I have a big blowup, any advice? Even if you don’t, thank you for listening in

Uhh.. I'll be honest- I'm not the best at dealing with burnout. I often get very stressed and angry whenever I'm burnt out and its one of my least favorite things EVER.

But- I suppose one could say that I'm trying to learn how to deal with it more and my siblings have been a big help so- I suppose I can tell you some advice they've given me or some ways they've helped me calm down.

1. Taking a break first off - You can't STOP being burnt out until you give yourself a moment to rest- and rest does NOT mean laying about and being anxious about later events. It's one of the hardest things to do- but you judt generally have to... ugh- "let go"

2. Not feeling guilty for dropping a few things. It's one of the things I hate to do the most- but if you keep adding things to your already full schedule- you are going to feel burnt out before you even get the chance of getting around to them. Take what you can handle- not what others think you can handle.

3. Spending time with people you trust. Despite enjoying my alone time VERY much. Sometimes just spending time and goofing off with my family feels very therapeutic.

4. Eat or indulge in comfort foods/items/activities. Sometimes you need to try and comfort yourself and wind down. Allowing yourself to enjoy the things that bring you such comforts will definitely help in relaxing you and freeing yourself of every burden that's pestering you.

[justmaybee]

Stocks

Summary: Knights of Favonius college AU at the Ren Faire ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ w/ hinted Kaebedo b/c it’s me

A/N: October is over but my procrastination knows no bounds ✨ so imma just keep doing the prompts I had planned…whenever I happen to get them out. It’s supposed to be for fun anyways, right? So have this ridiculously specific combination of things and I’ll catch y’all in a month or so~

Once more, from the top. Repetition is the key to memorization after all.

Miss Lisa, a clinical psychology major, currently in her final year of post-grad and well on her way to an outstanding PhD program.

That one’s easy. Lisa was among the first people whom Albedo met when he enrolled. It was a stroke of luck, getting a job in the library alongside the school’s brightest PhD candidate. Though it’d taken a while for Albedo to grow accustomed to her naturally flirty way of interacting.

Next, Miss Jean. Criminal Justice and Conflict Resolution, a dual major, with plans to apply for law school come the next year or so, if Albedo recalls correctly.

The difference between Lisa and Jean’s mannerisms is stark, but somehow balanced, in a way. Lisa brings a sense of calm to Jean’s strict—borderline overbearing—work ethic, and Jean motivates Lisa to act on the boundless potential she carries.

How very complimentary.

And the last piece to the puzzle, for today.

Mister Ky— Ki? Kae?

Albedo can’t remember seeing it on paper. He’ll have to mention that to Sucrose later.

But yes, Kaeya. Albedo doesn’t actually know what his major is. They’d only met fairly recently, and he’d quickly taken to conversation without any of the usual ‘icebreakers’ used by students.

He’s a childhood friend of Jean, growing up in the same neighborhood. And via Jean, Kaeya met Lisa. An awful combination, Albedo must say, even if he’s only known the combined pair for a short time. He has no doubt any one victim to their teasing would combust rather quickly.

Okay. Hopefully he can remember everything as they make their way throughout the day. He’s never been that great with names or faces, especially in groups. And Sucrose isn’t here to assist him, so he’ll really have to stay on top of things.

How long he’d been wrapped up in his head, Albedo isn’t sure. But when the car comes to a lurching stop, he knows it must’ve spanned enough time for them to arrive at their destination.

Kaeya announces their arrival, gesturing outside with a flourish. Jean offers a little cheer that has Lisa laughing softly in response.

This is Albedo’s first time at a Renaissance Faire. He didn’t have a lot of expectations going into it, but his first view of the fair grounds certainly delivers.

The door to his left pops open, startling him from his train of thought. He hadn’t realized that everyone was already on their way out. Kaeya stands beside Albedo, thankfully blocking most of the now beaming sun. His hand is on the door handle and his lips tilt up into a smirk.

“Coming?”

———

To say it again, Albedo’s never been to a ‘Ren Faire’ before. He can’t remember who’s idea it was either, just that he’d been dropped into a group chat very suddenly a few days ago.

He didn’t have too much of a preference going or not going, but when Amber had to drop last minute to help her partner from dance class—

Well, Albedo found the decision being made for him.

He made sure to thank Amber for her spare ticket—it was the polite thing to do—but he did worry a little.

Sucrose had a biochem exam approaching, so she couldn’t make it. Timaeus…didn’t know any of the others all that well.

And…Albedo didn’t really have any other friends his age to consider.

(The idea of bringing his little sister did flutter at the base of his head for a second before he shooed it off, a tad embarrassed.)

Thankfully, things seem to be going decently well. Lisa is a familiar presence. Jean is wholly accommodating. And Kaeya—

Albedo has the patience to deal with types like him, he’ll just say.

That’s why he does little more than roll his eyes, an amused smile tugging at his lips, when Kaeya immediately directs the group to a period-catered costume shop upon entrance.

It seems a bit much, but Albedo’s silence is outvoted unanimously.

There is the option to rent consumes but—

“That doesn’t seem sanitary,” Jean mumbles, hand at her chin while she frowns at the advertising sign.

“I don’t think ‘sanitary’ was a major concern in this century,” Kaeya offers when he walks by, an assortment of clothes already on his arm.

“But it is the present, so I’m sure they’d be fine,” Lisa chimes in, lightly pulling Jean’s hand from her face.

Wrist in hand, Lisa begins leading Jean off to a corner of the store. Her voice fades.

“You won’t be needing those anyways though, dear. I’ve got just the thing for you.”

———

Albedo hadn’t gone into this with the knowledge he’d be purchasing a costume, but he did bring an ample amount of spending money—just in case—so it doesn’t pose much of a problem.

He isn’t exactly sure what he should be buying though, so he just purchases what he can find on a similarly sized mannequin.

That leaves him in a white, long sleeved shirt that he cuffs to his elbows to match the display. It’s a bit—um—poofy? But the collar keeps it settled on Albedo’s shoulders fairly well. There’s a pair of baggy, but otherwise generic, brown pants on his legs and a yellow sash around his waist—for an accent? He supposes? That’s really the gist of it.

It’s not bad, Albedo thinks, but the rest of the group definitely took the idea to heart.

Lisa’s gown is a rich purple, complimented by the flowers in her hair. Roses, he thinks. Do roses come in purple? That’s beside the point—

She looks like royalty, elegant and poised. Albedo hopes she doesn’t overheat.

Jean’s dress is much more subdued, though that isn’t meant to come off negatively. Albedo doesn’t have the fashion background to describe it, but the dress seems well-fit to Jean’s style.

A white peasant dress with a blue bodice, flowing loose around her ankles. The sleeves hang off her shoulders and puff out, much like Albedo’s. A simple chain of daisies sits on her head, a subtle statement in her golden hair.

Kaeya’s outfit is the only one he can’t recall seeing in the store. Which is strange, since Albedo has an almost photographic memory.

His pants are almost identical to Albedo’s, just black and—obviously—a size larger.

His top…

….

It’s…another white top, long sleeved and of a thinner material. There’s ruffles or ruching—Albedo doesn’t know the specific terminology—around the neckline, which, ah—

—drops, a bit low. In a v-shaped cut that ends about mid-sternum and it—

It looks good — on him. Albedo will leave it at that.

…though leaving it there would mean glossing over the corset fitted around his waist. Navy blue and secured snugly on his lower abdomen.

How can a man be so tall and yet have a waist so small, it’s just—

“So that’s where that corset went.” Lisa says, slipping into Albedo’s line of sight.

Kaeya only shrugs his shoulders, a ‘guilty as charged’ smile on his face.

“Oh, you’re lucky you got ahold of it before I could. Jean has a figure to die for, and that would’ve gone a long way in getting others to properly appreciate it.”

Albedo doesn’t miss the look of relief on Jean’s face, nor the thankful smile she shoots Kaeya over Lisa’s shoulder.

———

From then on is a blur of vibrant colors, spirited music, and brisk, autumn air.

Kaeya leads the way, for the most part. Albedo follows gladly; the last thing he wants is to lose himself in this bustling faux city. Thankfully, Kaeya’s height makes that difficult to achieve.

There are many stalls set up, lining the walking paths of the town, but the group gets only a few steps in before someone starts taking an interest in one of the shop’s wares.

Lisa is taken by the handcrafted jewelry, glass pieces that catch the light and make it dance on the dirt path. Jean’s attention is stolen a minute later by a batch of artisan wind chimes, as beautiful in craft as they are in sound. Kaeya gets stopped by a weapons display, which doesn’t entirely surprise Albedo. But the way he slowly approaches a small tray, picks up a modest, old slingshot with an expression that’s almost—wistful…

Some part of him wants to ask, but he doesn’t.

Albedo doesn’t find much interest in the shops. He browses over the items when the others choose to stop, but the clothes on his back will be a significant enough momento as is. He doesn’t find himself pausing until they’re passing by the live music.

He doesn’t stop intentionally, just steps more and more slowly, lingering beside the small amphitheater. It’s upbeat music, though not in the sort of way he’d describe any music today. The percussion is light, the strings are vibrant, and the woodwinds ring distinctly clear in the white noise of people.

He’s startled by the applause that sounds around him when the piece ends, finding himself in the middle of the group. He—didn’t expect them to leave him, but—

“You know, for as many times as I’ve come here, I can’t remember the last time I stopped to really take in the music.” Kaeya says, standing to Albedo’s left.

He meets Albedo’s eyes, then shuts his own in a smile. “Thank you for that.”

They continue walking. Albedo wonders briefly whether the heat is getting to him.

The browsing continues on like this for another mile or so before something breaks the cycle.

“Oh, would you look at that.”

The amusement is clear in Kaeya’s voice, though Albedo can’t say at what in particular. Not until Kaeya sidesteps past him and up to a hunk of wood off the side of the path.

There’s a decent amount of space around the wooden stocks, sitting in a circle of dirt beside the main road. They’re not the most popular of attractions, as far as Albedo can tell, so it’s not a problem getting their group of four situated around them.

It’s Albedo’s first time seeing something like this in person, and it’d be underwhelming if he had any expectations, but he really doesn’t. Two boards of wood with a few holes split between them. Albedo doesn’t see the appeal.

Kaeya still seems to be interested though. He fishes around in his pockets, eventually finding his phone and handing it off to Jean.

“Take a picture, would you please? I’d like to send it to Diluc. I think seeing me locked up will make his day.”

Albedo doesn’t know the circumstances, but the way Jean muffles a giggle behind her hand makes him want to.

Kaeya lifts the top piece gingerly; the hinges squeak, probably from disuse. He slots himself into place, bending at somewhat of an awkward angle to compensate for his extra height. Lisa assists in carefully repositioning the top piece before stepping back out of frame.

The first picture is all smiles. Bright and sunny in a way that completely contradicts the setting. Kaeya flashes a peace sign and Albedo has to feign a cough to cover up his laugh.

“Kaeya, you’re a prisoner,” Jean reminds behind the camera.

Kaeya’s smile drops, to what could only be called a pout, for a moment before he ‘gets into character’. Hanging his head in defeat. Gazing blearily off to the side. So dramatic — a good thing, in this circumstance, Albedo supposes.

Eventually Kaeya calls Jean over to look at the pictures. Though he chooses to remain in the stocks while he scrolls through his phone, for whatever reason. He hums his approval, saving at least a couple of the pictures Jean took to work with later.

“Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time,’ Lisa purrs, draping herself over one side of the stockade.

Kaeya sighs, overdramatic as he hangs his head once again. “Yes, of course. I’ve seen the error of my ways now.”

Albedo holds back from rolling his eyes. He can see where this is going.

“Oh? And how am I meant to believe that?” Lisa coos.

“I’ll be a model prisoner going forward.” Kaeya presses. “I’ll accept my punishments graciously and be good from here on out.”

It’s so cheesy, Albedo considers turning around and leaving. They’ll catch up eventually. But his attention is taken by a weird sound — almost like a…yip? — before he can move.

The angle Kaeya bends to fit into the stocks leaves him just about level with Albedo, so it’s easy to see when his hands tug suddenly against the wooden frame. Like the stocks intended though, he doesn’t budge.

“H-hey, wait now—“

Kaeya’s tone has changed completely. He’s dropped the prisoner act, voice going cautious, even wavering a little.

“Hm?” Lisa hums, smiling sweetly. It sets off multiple alarms in Albedo’s head, even though he’s fairly sure it’s not meant for him.

“Now, I thought you were going to be good for me?”

“Hmph—“

Again, another weird noise. This time obviously from Kaeya, muted and kept in his throat. His wrists rotate in the stocks’ hold, but there’s no slipping them out.

Albedo blinks, processing. He feels like he’s missing a piece of the puzzle.

He can see Kaeya fidgeting—trying to casually remove himself from the stocks, but the loss of his cool is visible as the seconds tick by. His jerky movements against the wood increase in frequency, until eventually his eyes shut, lips pressing together like his life depends on it.

Lisa, on the other hand, has all the cool Kaeya doesn’t. She’s still lounging lazily against the stock mount. Though it’s quite obvious now that her position was intentional, resting atop the frame to keep it shut over Kaeya’s twitching body.

Albedo doesn’t get the joke. Not until Jean intervenes.

“Oh,” Jean frets, stepping from behind Albedo to get closer to Lisa. She peeks over to get a better view of the stocks’ back side. “Don’t go too close to his back. He used to scream whenever his brother—“

“Jea-hean!”

And that one shout is all it takes to loosen the iron seal of Kaeya’s lips. The air is immediately filled with bright, bubbly giggles as Kaeya loses his grip. He tries, more than once, to bottle the sound back up, but every attempt leaves him sputtering and squeaking in failure.

Ah, so he’s ticklish.

“Oops! Sorry, Kaeya!” Jean cries, hands flying to her mouth.

Albedo takes one step to his left, adjusting his view to the back of the stocks. Where—apparently—all the action’s been happening.

Now he can see Lisa’s hand—delicate and dainty—with long, painted nails that—in this situation—must be absolutely brutal. She scribbles a fast back and forth motion up and down Kaeya’s side. Starting at the top of the corset, hugging his waist, then sliding up the curve of his side and the bony protrusions of his ribs.

The way she lingers, spidering around each divot and bone of Kaeya’s rib cage makes something sympathetic flutter in Albedo’s own chest.

With no way to hide it now, Kaeya seems to have given up on keeping his composure.

Shuffling his feet, shaking his head, and laughing entirely unfiltered. His arms pull against the wooden boards sporadically, getting especially jumpy whenever Lisa’s hands venture too high.

He can’t stop his yelp when Lisa’s hand finally does poke around his armpit, but he does lower his head, hiding the redness of his cheeks under a mane of messy blue hair.

“Oh, hun,” Lisa trails, all smiles despite—and probably because of—Kaeya’s predicament. “Don’t make her feel bad. It’s not like I didn’t know about that spot already…”

As if to prove her point, Lisa moves her hand, inching towards the expanse of Kaeya’s back. She scratches with what seems to be the slightest use of pressure yet, and it’s got Kaeya folding in on himself. Half-standing, half-crouching as his legs give out. All from one finger gently scratching along the inside of his shoulder blade.

“L-Lisahahaha! Aha! Mph—n-nohoHOHOHO!”

“No?” Lisa tilts her head. “I don’t recall prisoners getting to choose their punishment—“

She adds another finger, pressing more firmly against the bone. Kaeya’s body lurches forward. The stocks must be keeping him upright for the most part now. He shakes his head, squeaking out partially intelligible pleas and apologies between his frantic laughter.

Albedo didn’t know the back could be so ticklish, but he’s getting a first-hand account of what a very bad spot it can be.

Kaeya’s hands curl into fists, his back arching and jerking away from Lisa’s precise and deadly touch. There’s a slight wheeze to his exhale, already breathless with laughter, that pitches to a fresh whine when Lisa reaches over to mirror her touch on his opposite side.

And as entertaining as this is—truly—Albedo thinks they may be causing a scene. He’s seen at least a few people stop and laugh before continuing their stroll down the main road. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on perspective—Kaeya speaks up before Albedo has to.

“Okay! Okahahay! E-enou-hah! Enohohohough!” Kaeya gasps, tapping his hand against the wood desperately.

Lisa’s giggle is barely audible above Kaeya’s laughter, but she finally grants him mercy, removing her hand and stepping back from the stocks.

The hinges squeak loudly when Kaeya frees himself, arms wrapping around to hug his sides as soon as he’s able. His hands rub at the ghostly sensations, letting the last of them fade with his laughter.

It takes him a minute to unstick his arms from his torso, but, when he can, Kaeya eventually plants his hands on his hips. He attempts to glare at Lisa, but his lips are so wobbly with leftover laughter, it’s impossible to take him seriously.

Lisa definitely doesn’t, moving to ruffle his messy hair fondly.

“Wha-! No!” Kaeya squawks, batting away her hand. He tries to fix himself up, but it’s basically a lost cause at this point.

“You can’t play nice now,” Kaeya huffs, getting his hair to a moderate level of disheveled. His arms settle to cross over his chest. “Taking advantage of a poor, innocent soul like that.”

Lisa is—understandably—unphased, the remnants of a winning smile still on her face. Jean doesn’t help when she muffles a laugh into her hand. Albedo is just lucky to have mastered the art of a convincing poker face.

It’s probably why, before he can blink, Albedo has an arm resting over his shoulders. Kaeya stands firmly beside him, shooting the others a haughty look.

“I’m treating Albedo and I to a cup of mead. You two can join us when you’ve thought over what you’ve done.”

Then he turns back towards the path, dragging Albedo along with him.

———

What a strange situation to be in — with someone he’s only recently met nonetheless.

Albedo can’t possibly be feeling this comfortable around what’s practically an acquaintance. But there’s no other way to describe the ease he feels, stepping alongside Kaeya as he leads them through the fairgrounds.

It must be this feeling which prompts him to say what he does next.

“And if I decide to take advantage—?” Albedo reasons, tone light. “—of what I just learned?”

Kaeya’s arm disappears in an instant.

It snaps back, elbow pressing to his side, hand reaching around to cover a tiny portion of his back. When Albedo looks, he finds Kaeya wide-eyed and already fighting back a nervous smile. Albedo’s never seen him like this.

His laugh breaks the tension, Kaeya’s relieved chuckle following suit.

“Don’t worry,” Albedo smiles, taking up their earlier stroll. Kaeya quickly falls into step beside him. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Not to say that Kaeya would always be safe from Albedo but — that’s an experiment for another day.

[kokomochi]

𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐘 | 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮

"𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙞 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚?"

PAST LIFE AU! falling in love was something that he didn't expect- having a broken heart was the last thing his brother wanted.

02. core energy MASTERLIST

it turns out that haitani rindou didn't show up to science class- nor did he show up to any of his morning classes at all.

the guy was too busy stuffing his face with food from the canteen along with his brother to even bother turning up to class, even if he wanted to raise hell fire on a particular (h/c) haired girl.

he can always do that later.

in his own little world, rindou believes that everyone should be treated fairly (it's the year 2075, of course equality has already been normalized.)- and she's no exception.

however, his brother and a dozen packs of dorayaki was waiting for him at the school canteen, and he didn't let the opportunity pass.

so here they are, finishing up the last of the stock before heading to their last classes of the day.

haitani rindou has core classes, something to do with the past or some shit- it's actually his first time taking it even after being enrolled to the subject for the past two months, while his brother has physical education.

though it's not needed for ran to be there seeing as he's more than capable on doing a lot of physical activities, he wanted to see whether or not he can crush his classmates prides when they find out that he's actually better than them even after being suspended.

and seeing as his brother was two years ahead of him, he has the advantage of actually choosing whether or not to turn up to p.e.

weren't we just talking about equality not too long ago?

"same place?" the oldest of the two asked, slinging his school bag over his shoulders as he peered over his brother who followed behind him.

he nodded, recieving a pat on the back as the two of them went their separate ways- where was the core lessons located again?

it's not his fault that he wasn't interested in the class, well, it kind of is his fault- but we're not talking about that right now.

rindou began looking through the hallways for any signs of wondering students that he can torment, demanding where the damned class is located or he'll dislocate their bones.

"hey, it's four-eyes." the dual-hair colored male snapped his attention to the sudden intruder behind him, eyes meeting with (e/c) ones who held a glint of amusement in them- something that he wanted to erase.

"well if it isn't miss clinic, done patching up your patients?" his retort caused her to chuckle, making the youngest haitani brother irk at how casual he's acting right in front of him.

does this girl not know what he's capable of?

in normal circumstances, people would tend to avoid crossing paths with him. and if there are any unfortunate one's who do, then they'll apologize for bumping into him even if he's the one who bumped into them.

yet this... this creature right here doesn't even look terrified of him.

seriously, what's up with her?

"somewhat like that. i needed to drop a few things to the clinic before heading to our last class." this caused rindou to perk up, side-eyeing her figure with his mind turning a bit.

the lightbulb over his head suddenly lit up, coughing on his palms to catch her attention- which was a success.

"you said that we're classmates right? well then, don't just stand there, go to class." it took everything inside of her to not burst out in laughter right then and there, noticing the obvious fact that he's lost and he's just using her to get to class without ruining his pride.

a smart move if she says so herself.

though, despite knowing what rindou's real intentions are, she didn't say anything about it, walking away with him following behind her like a lost puppy- very uncharacteristic of him, really.

i mean, she understands why he doesn't know the direction to the classroom seeing as this is his first time attending core lessons, so it's pretty self explanatory why he looked so lost back there.

if it weren't for her, then he would've been lost until the end of the day. she deserves a pat on the back- better yet, a dozen packs of dorayakis because apparently, someone decided to buy all the stock from the canteen.

turning corners and walking up a flight of stairs, the two of them finally reached the classroom, standing in front of the sliding doors as rindou tried to catch his breath.

now, don't get me wrong, he's more than capable of fighting a group of thugs without wasting a breath- but walking to this damned classroom really took everything in him.

why is it located this far anyways?!

"well, we're here."

"yup, i can see that." he rolled his eyes at her for pointing out the obvious, adjusting his hold on his bag as he slid the door open and was welcomed by the strong smell of lavender- something that immediately shot waves of pain up to his head.

it took a bit of restraint to not slam the door closed, walking in with a bit of hesitation as the (h/c) haired girl followed along behind him.

"oi... are you sure that we're in the right class?" he asked, keeping his voice low as to avoid the teacher from hearing his doubt- if that's even their teacher.

"yup, i heard that we're doing some sort of connecting today. you'll get use to the smell, the teacher said it's necessary."

the two of them took their places on the remaining seats which were coincidentally stationed just in front of the doors, turning their attention on the professor who began to explain their next activities.

rindou doesn't believe in the supernatural nor does he believe in stuff like past lives or something, so it's kind of weird having to sit there and listen to his teacher go on and on about how each and everyone of them had past lifes.

"inside of us, there's this little core of energy which connects all our lives throughout the years- and i'm here to help you connect those energies and view what your past looks like."

"you could be the opposite gender, or even a famous celebrity in your past life. every little detail is important in order for you to finish your assignment."

he doesn't know if his teacher has their screws loose or whatever- but he'd like to believe that they have at least a screw or two missing, because this shit is just pathetic.

i mean, come on, past lives? you've got to be kidding him if you expect him to believe that that sort of thing exists.

"now, i want you to turn to your seatmate- you'll be partners until the end of the school year, and i want to you follow along with my instructions. we'll be trying and connect with your core and view one of the most important life that you've had."

"everyone of us has hundreds, maybe thousands of lives behind us, so we're only just connecting with the main and important one that you've had."

and now he's paired with the girl that he oh-so badly wanted to torment, great.

why was he even enrolled in this class to begin with- no, why is this class even essential in the first place? does the school really not care about what's happening out there and just decided that it's more important for kids to learn about their past lives?

like, 'oh hey! we should totally get kids to know what their past is like-' it's called past for a reason you dumbass.

rindou was brought out of his trance when he felt a small tap on his shoulder, turning to look at the (h/c) haired girl who had her chair already adjusted so that she's facing him.

"glad to know that you're my partner."

"yeah yeah- now listen to the crazy hag, i don't wanna fail the assignment that we're going to have." the sound of the chalk being dragged on the rough surface of the board served as their little white noise, turning to look at the front and saw gibberish written on it.

yeah... he should've skipped this one.

"now, i want one of you to close your eyes, the other one will guide you through the process in connecting with your core energy."

rindou rose a brow at her when she looked at him expectantly, letting out a sigh as he motioned for her to follow along.

"well? close your eyes, i'm not doing this." letting out a tired and defeated sigh, she closed her eyes and waited for the next instructions to be given. not gonna lie, she doesn't even know why she just didn't skip this period and stay in the comforts of the clinic- but, it's kind of entertaining to say the least.

after a minute long of explaining what to do next, the teacher then proceeded to let the students explore on how to connect with their so-called 'core energy' or past life, in short.

"okay so- pretend that there's a... door right in front of you? and uh, channel all your energy on that door- i don't fucking know." and it seems that haitani rindou is the worse partner when it comes to stuff like this.

he tried, he really did. mostly because he wanted to pass all his classes, but also because he knows that this girl right here isn't capable on understanding basic instructions.

so he took it upon himself on being the 'eye-opener', so she should be grateful that she has him as her partner.

"you see that door? yeah, okay and you open that door and you should faintly see what your past looks like. do you see anything or should you imagine yourself wearing glasses as well?"

it was a good thing that y/n had her eyes closed or else rindou would've been inviting her to a fight once he sees her roll her eyes at him. she decided to ignore his vague instructions and just followed along what she understood from the teacher's words.

purple eyes watched as her brows furrowed in concentration, a hum rising from her throat as she began describing what she's seeing.

though, it's not like it'll make him believe that past lives exists- they don't.

"hmm... i see... flashing lights- blue and red ones. i also see... bullets? bullets and police officers, huh."

"then there's me... on the hospital bed and someone... i'm talking to someone?"

now, even though he said it multiple times that there's nothing that's going to change on his perspective on the supernatural and all that jazz, hearing her describe what she's seeing made him invested.

i mean, it's not everyday that you'd get to hear someone die because of cops- was she a drug addict in her past life?

another minute has passed, making rindou sit there all bored, waiting for her to continue to describe what she's seeing.

"well? anything else?"

purple eyes met with (e/c) ones, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she gave him a half-assed peace sign.

"joking."

it took everything inside of him to not strangle her right then and there, closing his eyes to keep his cool in check as the bell coincidentally ran, signaling the end of the day.

"for your assignment, i want you guys to dig deeper into your core energy and make a story about it- merge both of your past and turn it into one, big story. you're going to be passing it at the end of the school year."

"if there are no more questions, then you're free to leave."

rindou turned to the (h/c) haired girl who stood up and was getting ready to leave, raising a brow when she handed him a paper with her contact info written on it.

"we're partners for the rest of the school year, better have my number for easier contact whenever we do the assignment."

"what makes you think that i'd want to meet up with you?" she let out a chuckle, eyes twinkling in amusement as she slung her bag over her shoulder and gave him a grin.

"your grades aren't going to write themselves, will they?"

"oh, and it's y/n, l/n y/n." and with that, haitani rindou watched as she left the classroom along with his classmates, leaving him inside of the lavender-smelling room with an amused grin playing on his lips.

"y/n, huh?"

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Reader) -- chapter two

A/N: Shout out to Tracy in this chapter (you’ll meet her)!! She’s based off my advisor when I was doing Dual Enrollment college courses in high school. She’s a woman sent from GOD so I just had to give her some love in here. Anywho! Enjoy xx.

Today’s chapter title is from the song “Home” by Daughtry (you might recognize it from the show!)

Chapter warnings: honestly the only one for this chapter is Jealous!Hotch, but Reader is hiding/in denial about something (that’ll be revealed in later chapters)

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Two: And the pain you feel’s a different kind of pain

Home sweet home, indeed.

As Hotch previously decided (though because of his mood, you were half expecting him to change his mind), you’re with him to go to the college campus. 

Reid is working with Garcia to see if there are any invisible strings tying these three girls together because going to the same school is not nearly enough. It might be a community college, but it still has nearly seven thousand students.

JJ is trying to get a handle on what she can with the media, but so far has proved to be unsuccessful. She’s been yelled at more than she wants to, all because apparently the FBI’s response time is “too slow.” As if they have control over when and where they’re invited.

Emily and Morgan are off to where the women were found, to see if anything was overlooked, and to get a good sense of who you guys are dealing with.

Five minutes into the car ride to campus with Hotch, you wish you and Emily had traded places.

First, he had to give you a lecture about staying on task during cases. How he can’t necessarily forbid you from seeing your mother, but that you need to prioritize.

“Three women are dead, Hotch!” You nearly yell. “I know my priorities! If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be in this fucking car with you!”

That’s what you wanted to say to him, at least. But it’s not what you actually say. You kind of like your job, so you kept your voice calm and collected.

“Yes, sir. I understand. I reminded her that the case comes first.” You pause, trying to lighten the air in the car so you don’t suffocate. “If it helps, she’s happy we’re here.”

“I hope her views are the same as the rest of the town,” he muttered, putting his turn signal on.

“What are you doing?” You ask when he slows down.

“Turning?” He replies, stopping to wait for an opening between cars.

“No, don’t,” you wave your hand. “Go up further and then turn left. Trust me.”

He looks skeptical, but turns off his signal and goes forward. Hesitation fills his body language.

“Relax,” you chuckle, sitting up straighter in your seat. “I used to drive these roads every day. I’m giving you the faster route. It’s prettier, too.”

“We don’t have time to look at the scenery, L/N.”

“Yes, I know that. Turn here.”

Hotch turns and steals a glance at your face when you see the houses along the side of the road. Your eyes practically light up and he hears your breath hitch a little, but you don’t say anything. 

It’s adorable. You’re adorable, and Hotch is kicking himself every time he has that thought.

“Here it is,” you murmur, almost to yourself, when the college buildings come into view. The gate is wide open, as usual. “This is the east side of campus. I used to come in this gate because it was a lot less crowded in the morning.”

Hotch nods, wanting to hear more, but he knows it’s a bad idea. He’s toeing the line as it is. He doesn’t need to get invested.

“Turn right and it’ll take you back to the front of campus. I’m assuming we need to check in at the university center?”

Hotch nods. “Campus police should be waiting for us there.”

“Okay. Yeah, it’s just up here.” You point to a massive building, one that almost looks out of place with how modern its features are. “God, they did renovations my senior year,” you say, again to yourself, but Hotch listens to every word. “It looks so much different. Oh, you can park up by it. I’m sure we have leeway. I got fined one day for parking up here as a student.” You chuckle, recalling the memory. “I appealed it and was fine. I was a junior in high school then, so they let it slide. They let...most things slide around here.”

This is the most you’ve ever talked about your time at college -- at least, to Hotch’s knowledge it is. But he’s correct. 

You don’t talk about it much, not willingly, at least. You had a wonderful time here, so it’s not that anything traumatic happened to you, it’s just a different time. Who you were then compared to who you are now is almost two completely different, distinct people. If you saw yourself on the sidewalk today, you definitely wouldn’t recognize yourself.

But, oh well. Such is life. No sense in dwelling on that right now.

By the time Hotch puts the vehicle in park, you’re unbuckled and out on the sidewalk, spinning in circles.

“Focus, agent,” he scolds gently, and you think you must be dreaming, because you swear you see a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“I am focused,” you reply, teasing, hands on your hips. “I just haven’t been back in a few years. Forgive me for feeling like I just traveled back in time.”

He shakes his head and begins walking before he stops, turning to you. “Lead the way.”

You can’t help the grin that crosses your lips. You’ll gladly lead the way. Any day.

You push the glass door open, holding it open for Hotch as you walk through. They did renovations mainly to the outside, but the inside is the same. All gray and navy blue, the school’s colors. They’ll never grow old, not to you. There’s something nostalgic about where you first attend college -- for you it’s where you’ve only attended college. You’ll always have a soft spot.

“Is that who I think it is?”

Your head snaps around, your grin widening when your eyes meet those that you’ll never forget. “Is that who I think it is? Come here!”

Tracy rounds the desk and you nearly tackle her in a hug. She’s a younger Black woman (but still a few years older than you), with a kind face that you instantly trusted the day you first met.

When you were a sophomore in high school trying to get classes at this college, Tracy was the advisor you spoke to. She was in her early twenties at the time. She handles all dual enrollment students, but they’re normally juniors or seniors, not sophomores. She was the one you needed to gain the approval of, and after ten minutes, you were being enrolled.

She believed in you. Saw that you needed more and that you were ready to get out of high school. It was too immature for you, too loud, too crowded. She got you out. You owe her a lot.

“Look at you!” Tracy nearly squeals, holding you by your shoulders. “Let me look at you. Turn.”

Humoring her, you turn in a circle slowly, holding out your arms. “How old do I look?”

“Only slightly older than that fifteen-year-old I met all those years ago,” she jokes, holding her hand to her heart. “What are you doing back here? Come all this way just to visit me?”

And just like that, with a few simple words, you’re reminded of why you’re here.

Tracy reads you like a book. “What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath, pulling out your badge. “I’m uh…” You open it, showing her your credentials. 

“Oh my...” Tracy gasps, hands reaching out to hold your badge, but she stops halfway, remembering that even though you’re the teenager she helped, you’re not that girl anymore. 

Hotch finally makes himself known, stalking over and showing his own badge. He glances at you and dares to make a comment, but keeps quiet.

“This is my supervisor SSA Aaron Hotchner,” you introduce him. “And officially, I’m SSA L/N.”

“We’re investigating the murders of three girls that went here. The news initially reported them as suicides--” Hotch begins. 

“Actually,” you interrupt him, and make a note to apologize for it later. “Did you happen to know them?”

“Of course I did, I handle all the dual enrollment students,” Tracy says, a sad look overtaking her eyes. “It’s just awful.”

“They were dual enrollment?” You ask. “For how long?”

Tracy thinks, then shakes her head. “I’d have to look at their files to be sure, but I think since they were juniors. Do you think we could go to my office? I can give you their academic files.”

“Of course, yes, anything helps,” you nod.

“It’s just upstairs,” Tracy says, not to you, but to Hotch. You used to literally hang out in her office just to talk to her about anything and everything. You were close to calling her Aunt Tracy by the time you left -- and you know if you did, she wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

“I’ll meet you back down here,” Hotch says, keeping his voice low. “I’m going to meet with campus police. See if they have any unusual incidents that could lead us to our unsub.”

You nod, furrowing your eyebrows. “Okay. An hour?”

“Hour is good,” Hotch says, but you know he means make it thirty.

Hotch doesn’t display his badge, instead keeping it tucked away as he walks off to an officer that caught his eye a few moments ago.

You turn back to Tracy with a small smile. “I’m sorry about him. He’s been in a bad mood as of late.”

Tracy raises an eyebrow. 

You furrow yours. “What?”

“I thought you were coming in here to introduce me to your new lover,” she admits, nearly making you choke on air.

“What?”

“Oh, girl,” she wraps an arm around your shoulders, heading for the wide staircase. “He was watching you the entire time we were talking. Watched you spin in that circle, too. He’s got it bad, if I do say so myself.”

“I’m sure you do,” you scoff, hands suddenly clammy at the idea. 

You know how you feel about him -- as bad as it is -- but you’ve never once seriously considered him reciprocating your feelings. Sure, you fantasize about it, that’s normal for anyone to do, fantasizing about their crush feeling the same way. But seriously? 

“It’s wrong,” you blurt, always able to talk to her. A few years didn’t change that. “Inappropriate, even.”

“Oh, I know,” Tracy laughs. “But that’s what makes it so much more attractive, isn’t it?”

“He’s too old,” you blurt again. You know listing these cons is only for you, to convince yourself how wrong it is, how you shouldn’t be feeling this way.

“Oh, please,” Tracy shakes her head. “You’re what, twenty-three now? You act thirty, my dear.”

You gasp. “Are you calling me old?”

“Thirty is not old,” Tracy says firmly, reminding you that she’s thirty now. “I’m calling you mature. Wise. I was surprised you were fifteen when I first met you. You had more confidence in you than most of the eighteen year old freshmen that come in here. That’s only grown with time, like you.” She pauses. “Don’t let an age difference scare you. You both work for the FBI, don’t you?”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, sweetheart, if he wasn’t interested in you, I’d think he was either married or blind.”

You don’t know what to say to that, considering Hotch technically was married when you first met him. The divorce happened -- or you caught wind of it -- a few months after you were hired. But Tracy doesn’t need to know that, and you need to get back on track.

“Okay, as much as I love catching up and having you dissect my love life…”

“Yes, I know, you’re here on official business.” Tracy’s arm slips from your shoulders as you enter her office. She goes to her filing cabinet and begins searching. “It was Jennifer, Kelly, and Natasha, right?”

You nod. “I think Natasha might have gone by Natalie? That’s the name the news broadcasted.”

Tracy nods, pulling the files. “She hated Natasha. It was the name her dad chose for her.”

“Ah,” you understand immediately. A deadbeat dad will make anyone do anything to get rid of all ties. You know. It’s why you have your current last name and not the one you were born with.

Noticing that too because nothing gets past her, Tracy murmurs, “I see you finally got that name change.” She looks up, and she smiles. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle. “I just wish I had gotten it done in time to have it on my degree.” At least you got it done in time for your badge, though.

“Oh, hun,” she waves her hand. “Give me one second.”

She hands you the files of the three students, so you sit down and begin looking through them for their starting dates. In front of you, Tracy sits at her desk and types furiously, as always.

You find that each of them started their junior year with only a few classes, not a full schedule like you did. You know it’s wrong, but every difference between you and these women puts your heart at ease.

But you find another connection to them that you didn’t see in the file. “They were graduating with a bachelor’s and master’s?”

“Yes,” Tracy nods, a proud yet sad smile crossing her lips. “It’s why they didn’t-- weren’t supposed to graduate until this May. It’s a six year program. Four of undergrad, and two for the master’s. For them, this was their fifth year. And even,” Tracy gestures to the files. “Natalie could’ve finished last year. She wanted to stay.”

“Did she say why?” You ask. There has to be something. “So far we’ve found absolutely nothing connecting these women outside of their attendance here, and now them being dual enrolled in the bachelor’s and master’s program, but…”

“No connection?” Tracy nearly laughs, which startles you. “Those girls went to the same high school, they were best friends. I know you won’t remember them because you were out of there sophomore year, but. They were close. Like this,” she crosses her fingers.

“Okay, um, one second,” you fish your phone out of your pocket, dialing Hotch. “Hey, it’s me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing’s wrong,” you shake your head. Focus. “Tracy just told me these girls were friends. Like best friends, Hotch.”

“Okay, so there’s our connection. Anything else?”

“They were each supposed to graduate in May with a bachelor’s and master’s degree--”

“At the same time?” 

“Yes, it’s an accelerated program they have here.” You pause, unable to stop yourself, “They didn’t have it for criminal psychology when I was here, so don’t start.”

He doesn’t reply, but you swear you hear him smile. “Where’s her office? I want to be there before you ask any more questions.”

“Um,” you find that odd. You hope he’s not getting in a mood again. “It’s 203. Come up the staircase at the front and hang a right. The door’s open.”

“Be right there.”

You look up to see Tracy giving you her all-too-knowing look. You shake your head at her, earning a scoff and roll of her eyes.

Hotch comes through the door a moment later. He nods for you to continue, which is a surprise. You were honestly expecting him to take over. 

“Did they have boyfriends? Fiancés, even?” 

Tracy shakes her head. “No fiancés. Natalie was seeing some guy, but he moved off to graduate school in England, I’m pretty sure. It crushed her to see him go.”

“Did they happen to have a crush on the same guy? Or did they ever talk about someone liking all of them but maybe they weren’t interested?”

Tracy shakes her head again. “I honestly can’t say. I know Kelly and Jennifer weren’t seeing anyone, that they told me, of course. Kelly did have a boyfriend in high school that she talked about, but he…” Remembering, Tracy sighs. “He died in a car accident two years ago. Drunk driver.”

“Ah,” you nod, so that’s a literal dead end. “So Jennifer wasn’t seeing anyone at all?”

“That I know of,” Tracy sighs. “But they don’t tell me everything. Sometimes I run into them holding hands with their sweetheart, and that’s how I’ll find out, like with you and Trevor.”

Your eyes immediately widen, a cold bolt of panic hitting your spine. “Tracy—” Of all the people she could’ve brought into this damn conversation—

“Trevor?” Hotch questions. “Who is he?”

“Just— Some random guy,” you wave your hand in front of your face. “No one.”

“No one?” Tracy scoffs. “You two were in love! It killed him when you left, you know.”

You glare at her, well aware of what she’s doing. Make Hotch jealous, make him angry, force his hand so he’ll confess his true feelings for you. You’re well aware. But Tracy doesn’t know how Hotch works. 

“Is he still around?” Hotch presses. 

“He’s just finished his master’s degree. He’s one of our new professors.”

“Of course he is,” you mutter under your breath. 

All he ever talked about was wanting to teach. He would pity you for thinking you could ever make it in the FBI with only a bachelor’s. You agreed with him, but that wasn’t the point. You wanted support, not to be told you’d never make it or that you were taking a huge risk. He’d tell you that it would be safer to stay here, and you didn’t want to stay here. You loved it here, but you needed someplace new. A fresher start. It’s why you took the job at the BCI in Virginia. You weren’t intending on joining the BAU. That was pure luck, some might even say a blessing.

“Excuse me?” Hotch asks you, eyebrows raised. Oh, and he’s mad, too. You can feel it coming off of him in waves. Nice work, Tracy.

“Nothing, just…” You stand to your feet, looking to Tracy. “Do you mind if we keep these? I’m going to keep looking through them to see if there’s anything else useful.” You doubt there will be. But the sooner you get her the hell away from Hotch, the better. 

“You’re fine,” she waves. “If you come back by tomorrow, I’ll have your degree.”

“My degree?”

“With the correct name,” she reminds you softly, and for a moment, you want to hug her. 

Then your nostrils are assaulted by the smell that is Aaron Hotchner’s cologne, and you’re spiraling all over again. 

“Thank you, I’ll try to stop by. If I don’t, you can just mail it to my mom’s house. Or give it to her. Whatever works. We’ll be in touch if we have any other questions.”

And as quick as a bolt of lightning, you’re practically hauling Hotch out of her office and down the staircase back to the first floor. 

“Who is Trevor?” Hotch just keeps pressing. “Should we question him?”

“No, for God’s sake, Hotch, he—”

“Y/N? Is that you?”

Speak of the fucking devil, and he shall appear. 

Your eyes close, hoping, praying that maybe if you don’t turn at the sound of your name, that he will go away. 

But he doesn’t. That’s Trevor for you. Persistent without shame. Won’t take no for an answer.

Hotch watches you slowly as you turn and greet the young man that spotted you. 

Trevor hasn’t changed one bit. He still has his dark brown hair styled the exact same way, almost 1940s style, and still wears a damn tie everywhere he goes. 

He’s older than you by a couple of years, but you met when you were eighteen. He was twenty and a sophomore at the time (you were technically a junior, by credit hours). You both met in an elective class. It was purely innocent, strictly friends for the first few months. The two of you happened to be paired together on the first day for one of those stupid “get to know your classmates” things that professors sometimes do. Then you willingly partnered on a presentation. And feelings changed, as they do. 

You dated very briefly. You wouldn’t even consider him to be your first love — you don’t think you’ve even experienced love yet, if you’re honest. Everyone thought you loved Trevor. On the outside, it seemed that way. And he definitely loved you, or tried to. 

He was the worst about letting you go. And it’s clear right now that he still hasn’t. 

“Wow, you look…” Trevor shakes his head, at a loss for words. 

“That bad, huh?” You joke, instantly regretting it when Hotch moves to stand right next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “Uh, Trevor this is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.”

“Woah, Agent? Like—”

“FBI. Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Hotch answers firmly, eyeing Trevor up and down. You almost want to elbow his ribs to get him to stop, but you’re not too sure that’s a good idea. 

“FBI?” Trevor’s eyes widen in disbelief, looking at you. “I can’t believe you did it.”

“Yeah, me either some days,” you admit. “Anyway, it was nice to see you, but we’re on the clock, so…”

“Right, right, um…” Trevor shakes his head again, a bad habit he never got rid of. “Wow. It was nice seeing you again.”

“Yeah,” you smile through a grimace, offering a small wave. You turn your head to your supervisor, plowing right through the awkward air. “What did campus police have to say?”

Trevor gets the memo (thankfully) and walks away, hands stuffed in his front pockets. 

“He’s still in love with you,” Hotch replies, completely ignoring your question. 

“Unfortunate. I don’t love him. Campus police?”

“He’s getting a coffee. He keeps looking this way,” Hotch continues, able to see all of this even though his eyes have stayed locked on yours. “Your body language is telling me it wasn’t a happy relationship. Should I be concerned?”

It’s a simple thing. One word. He could’ve easily said, “Should we be concerned?” but instead he chose to put focus on him. Like if you tell him it wasn’t happy, he’ll march over there and give Trevor the scare of his life. The idea doesn’t seem all that bad to you.

“Should you?” You counter. “Three women are dead. Do you really want to concern yourself with my ancient history?”

“Ancient history is hundreds of years in the past. It seems to me you didn’t meet him that long ago.”

Fine. You’ll humor him. “We met when I was eighteen. He was twenty. Started dating three months after we met. Went all the way until a few months after graduation when I got the job at the BCI in Virginia. He told me I’d never make it. I called the supervisor back and accepted the offer right in front of his face.”

“So you made a point to prove him wrong?”

“I made a point to do something with my life instead of staying in this small town forever,” you counter. “There’s no FBI precinct here. Obviously I had to go somewhere for it. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Just because I met him when I was eighteen didn’t mean I was going to alter my life goals to stay close to him.”

“He’s coming back this way,” Hotch warns. 

Instantly, you look, panic seizing you again, but you find Trevor nowhere. Realizing what Hotch just did, anger floods your veins. 

“Made you look,” Hotch says, but it’s not teasing, it’s angry. As if you were the one who lied to him. He turns and walks toward the front doors, shoving one open and not bothering to hold it for you. 

“You bastard,” you grumble, following right behind him, palms stinging from where you smack the door.

He whips around, glowering at you. “What did you just call me?”

Normally, you’d stand down by now. You’d apologize. Hell, you’ve never gone so far as to call him a bastard to his face. This is uncharted territory. But you’re fed up. 

“Bastard,” you repeat. “You tricked me.”

“I didn’t do anything to you.”

“You told me he was coming when he wasn’t even there!”

“You wouldn’t have looked if it didn’t matter.”

“I wouldn’t have looked if you hadn’t lied to me!”

He gives you a disbelieving look.

He pushed your buttons. Time to push his. “Why are you so interested in Trevor?”

Hotch is heated. He speaks without thinking. “He could be a suspect.”

You almost laugh. “Based on what? The fact that I used to date him and that he’s allegedly not over me?”

Hotch clenches his jaw. “He looked at the files under your arm four times while he stood there. Four.”

“You’re sure he wasn’t just looking at my boobs?” It’s not something you ever thought you’d hear yourself saying to your boss, but here you are. 

Hotch stills. 

You almost crack a smile. “My, my…” You click your tongue, shaking your head. 

“What?” He snaps, clearly done with your shit, but you know what? You’re done with him, too. 

“Green is not your color, boss,” you chuckle, turning to head for the car. 

You climb into the passenger seat with a deep sigh. Hotch slides into the driver’s seat a moment later, silent as ever.

Hotch doesn’t say a single word until you’re back at the local police station, in the parking lot, to be exact. He shut the car off, but hasn’t moved.

“We need to speak to the victims’ families. If they were best friends, their families should be able to give us some more insight.”

“Okay,” you agree. “Why are we here, then?”

“Because I’m not going with you. Take Reid.” Hotch nearly rips the car door off its hinges as he throws it open.

“Reid?” You haul yourself out of the car, files under your arm. “Reid’s working on victimology and psychological autopsies right now.”

“Then give him the files and take someone else. Prentiss. Morgan. I don’t care.”

“What the hell did I do to you?” You yell after him, hands thrown up in frustration.

Hotch either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t care because he keeps walking away and into the police station. You slam the car door shut, ready to scream.

Great.

Next chapter

[jckelly]

updated intro / jack 101

Is that JACK KELLY? Wow, they do look a lot like VAN MCCANN. I hear HE is an NINETEEN year old FRESHMEN who are studying AEROSPACE ENGINEERING  at Luxor University. Word is they are an ARISTOCRAT student. You should watch out because they can be PHILOPHOBIC and INSINCERE, but on the bright side they can also be WITTY and IMAGINATIVE. Ultimately, you’ll get to see it all for yourself. [YUNI, 21, GMT, SHE/HER]

 the other two got updated intros n rat man felt left out

basics

full name: jackson noel kelly 

nicknames: jack (does not answer to jackson)

date of birth: december 25, 2001

zodiac: capricorn sun, leo ascendant, sagittarius moon

nationality: dual uk and us citizenship

sexual orientation: straight but will try anything once

course: aerospace engineering

appearance

faceclaim: van mccann 

voiceclaim: van mccann

ethnicity: white (english, irish)

height: 5′8 / 173cm

weight: 58kg / 127lbs

eye colour: blue

hair colour: brown

distinctive features: freckles (many), left ear pierced, scars on his wrists usually covered by long sleeves, northern english accent

clothing preferences: jack prefers to only wear black, or at a push grey, although he’s slowly improving and will Occasionally mix it up with ... navy. his style is pretty basic, usually just a sweater, jeans, and beat up black converse or doc martens depending on how emo he’s feeling. the sheffield united hoodie makes an appearance every time someone forgets precisely which uk city jack is from. 

personality

overview

positive traits: witty, imaginative, perseverant, passionate

negative traits: philophobic, disloyal, insincere, callous

mbti: entp

religious beliefs: atheist

description

the first side most people see of jack is the side he wants you to see. a total asshole. it’s not an exaggeration - he’s pretty much infamous for flirting with everyone, dating anyone and as a serial cheater. he’ll actively try to worm his way into your life, and then just when you start to care, he does something to hurt you. he’s strangely persistent, probably helping him to push people even further, until they snap. there is nothing which satisfies him more than managing to wind people up to the extreme, get them to the point where they give up. adopted parents, friends, nobody is immune to this side - he even tries it on the people he genuinely cares about, as if just to see if he’ll still be able to push them away.

the second side, which most people don’t see, is that at heart jack is a kid. he’s the type of person to ask if owls have ears at 3am, or get some childlike joy out of dumb jokes. of course, this is the side nobody but a very small number of people see. and even if you do see it, it never lasts long. he keeps his true personality under wraps even amongst those he does like, and it only slips out if he’s extremely comfortable with you. otherwise, he’ll go straight back to being a sarcastic, flirty piece of shit.

biography

jackson noel kelly was born in hell on ironically christmas day to his father satan......

jk

jack and his older half brother finn were born in sheffield, united kingdom, to a single mother. a drug addict, she was notorious among social workers for neglecting her children and as a result jack shuffled between foster homes and his mother’s home during his first ten years of life, with finn, less than four years older than him, being his primary carer even when he was back with his birth family. this cycle finally ended when jack was ten and he was permanently removed from his mother’s care, and placed in the first of a series of foster homes which didn’t last particularly long.

the thing was, jack’s remarkably good at pushing people away when he wants to, and as he got older his talents only increased. running away, wreaking havoc, insulting anyone who tried to get close and anything else he could possibly think of meant that for three years he lasted no longer than eight months in any one place. in fact, he frequently took himself back to live with his birth family until social services came to drag him out again. this lifestyle continued until he was fostered by his now adopted parents, claire and george, at thirteen.

much to jack’s dismay, no matter of hell raising would push these newest set of parents away. in fact, they seemed absolutely set on raising him as Their Son, even as his attempts to get them off his back got more and more extravagant. they removed him from his previous school, transferred him to a fancy private school, put him in therapy and tried their best to help him get through all of the issues developed through his slightly fucked up childhood.

the thing was, jack loves his mother. he still refuses to see her as being in the wrong, no matter what people tell him or what he himself recalls, in his mind he has one mother and that’s his birth mother. so he did not take kindly to attempts by his foster parents to become his “new” family, because in jack’s mind? he already had a family. and even though they were actively encouraging him to continue contact with his brother, he couldn’t help but see them as trying to replace his birth family.

jack’s fifteenth year pretty much became the year when all of these issues finally came to a head. he was adopted legally by his foster parents, who had now been fostering him for two years - which should have been a happy occasion, but for jack represented the final loss, the final betrayal to his birth mother and brother. then shortly after his fifteenth birthday his brother went to prison at eighteen for grievous bodily harm, having glassed another boy after an argument.

of course, it would later be revealed that in actuality the assault had been committed by jack. and that finn was simply covering for him. (they looked alike enough that questions were not raised, it had happened so fast.) but in the eyes of jack’s adopted parents, finn was now a dangerous offender and jack had to be protected from him. so he was then isolated from his brother, his mother had relapsed and his continuous guilt over being adopted played on his mind, culminating in a suicide attempt in march 2017. 

of course, he wasn’t successful, but this was the final straw in the minds of his adopted parents. they felt jack needed a fresh start, away from the people who had defined his life prior to that point. so by his sixteenth birthday, jack had been moved to the united states to be near the family of his adopted mother, and subsequently enrolled in luxor academy. 

where he continued to be a menace :))

although it did appear, for some time, that jack was showing signs of improvement. sure, he was still wreaking havoc at luxor. but at home, he had calmed, even showing signs of affection to his adopted family. until his mother overdosed suddenly and died when jack was eighteen and things started to immediately go straight downhill again.

he can’t help but blame himself, for allowing himself to be moved. for the move being his fault, if he’s being honest. and if the honesty continues, jack’s got a whole lot of other stuff to blame on himself. (see: ruining his brother’s life.) so now he’s just taking shit out on everyone to try and make them a fraction as miserable as him. 

npc connections

birth fam

finn kelly / fc: jake bugg / b. may 10 1998 / taurus sun, gemini ascendant, pisces moon

finley, who also refuses to use his full name, is jack’s older brother - same mother, different father.  jack thinks he’s boring because he doesn’t raise hell with every opportunity. finn calls this “being a sane person.” went to prison for jack and regrets it. pastimes include crying over murakami books and trying to look shocked when jack tells him about the newest crisis he’s having. 

lauren kelly / fc: elena tonra / b. february 20 1983 - d. april 1 2020 / pisces sun, aries ascendant, leo moon

jack’s birth mother, who was still a teenager when he and finn were born. she was an on again, off again drug addict and had jack removed from her care when he was ten due to continued neglect. instilled in him a love for oasis and a hefty number of mental health issues. looked pretty much exactly like jack. 

jordan taylor / fc: alex turner / b. october 12 1984 / libra sun, leo ascendant, virgo moon

jack’s birth father, who he knows little about. not for lack of trying on his father’s part, who was prevented from seeing jack as a child by his birth mother and blocked from trying to make contact by jack’s refusal to interact. he keeps trying to message jack and jack is running out of daddy issues memes to respond with. finn thinks jack should give him a chance to redeem himself. jack thinks finn should fuck off. 

adopted fam

claire fielding / fc: julia roberts / b. may 12 1964 / taurus sun, cancer ascendant, leo moon

jack’s adopted mother. loves him very much and is convinced he is a sweet boy who just needs love and help. has written a memoir about adopting jack. jack is mad at her constantly. when he is not mad at her, he is embarrassed by her existence. honestly deserves better.

george fielding / fc: timothy olyphant / b. november 6, 1963 / scorpio sun, capricorn ascendant, virgo moon

is proud of jack, but very deep down underneath a strong layer of calling jack out on his bullshit. has some loud ass shouting matches with jack. also really wishes jack would sort his hair out and maybe not look like a cheap liam gallagher. jack honestly just winds him up constantly and he knows jack is doing it but goddamnit it’s so hard to not be mad at the little rat. 

other

maisie adeyemi / fc: yewande biala / b. january 6, 1997 / capricorn sun, sagittarius ascendant, aries moon

finn’s fiancee. her goal in life is to try to get jack to ruin finn’s life at least 70% less often. she has yet to achieve this goal. her love language is setting finn’s phone to silent when he goes to bed to stop jack from phoning in with some sort of random crisis at four in the morning because the little shit forgot timezones exist. finn will never find out. maisie is grateful that men have no brains. 

[snickiebear]

Hi bby! 1, 2, 3, 6, 16, 27, 29, 33, 35! 🖤

mittens!!! loml!!

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

oh goodness... um, i’d say a 4?? yeah, that sounds about right, only because i often make so many tense mistakes and even when i edit there’s always something to fix. and just,,, im still learning a lot (aren’t we all). plus, sometimes the stuff i put out needs so much more work (see: my recent shisaku fic... i want to tear it up and put it back together.. ugh.. also wt&r, just everything)

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

OH GOODIE! i just... well, i wrote a lot when i was twelve-fourteenish, then kind of on and off through the years. never really had anything to ground me and get me to take writing seriously. and then i found naruto and sakura who has so much unused potential and it just made me so angry to see her treated that way. 

point being, the naruto fandom (more specifically the sakura fandom) rooted me down and allowed me be able to grow as a writer even though i’ve only been posting since january my writing style has changed so much, and i can physically feel myself becoming a better writer. 

plus, i just love it. the thrill of being able to use these characters and pairings and do what i want with them?? i drink it up, i love it!!! its so freeing and such a great way to really dig deep within writing itself. 

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

i think its just the way i word things, you and a lot of others call it poetry but meh i just call it fancy words or word vomit from my brain AHAHHAHA

also, my thing is God Killers, God Eaters, and Angry Wrathful Women at this point, so maybe thats another thing?

but honestly,,, i have no clue... you’d have to ask my lovely readers, im so thankful for them 😭

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

plot probably. this changes often though. usually when i have an idea, the rest comes to mind and i jot it down and come back and change things and stuff, so thats usually pretty easy tbh... at least for now LMAO

and inner dialogue, inner struggles, showing the entire internal thing. its fun writing that angsty part of a story, the small insights into a character’s mind, how miserable and alone they feel. or, perhaps how happy they are, overjoyed and at peace. 

OH AND WORLD BUILDING. i pride myself so much on my world building. i honestly think thats one of the better things im good at! just weaving small details into the text, and subtly building a world within your mind, oh i love it so much!!!!

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

mmmm nothing really comes to mind? men simping for women who could kick their ass? tho idk if thats really a guilty pleasure....am very fond of same age aus, sometimes mafia aus too... ummm,, yeah

(probably big dick tenzo tbh... and the fact that kakashi’s face is a legal weapon AHAHAHA,,, and broken, vunreble men. also, shattered, all consuming women.)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

oh god... i cannot chose! you, ele, al, and hika leave the kindest comments, and literally any comment on the things i write just make me so so so so so HAPPY. i just them more than kudos tbh. 

but! one comment on the intimacy of being understood i always come back to. it was left by GuardianMars and they wrote that the fic was like a “love letter to the pairing.” and that well. i think about that comment all the time. 

there have been so many others comments that have utterly touched my heart and that i will go to read on terrible, horrible days and i value ALL comments. especially those who say “i’m rereading this again” or “i’ll read anything you put out” that just. there is something so intimate about that, that utter faith and loyalty that i do not know what to do with. 

its so touching and makes me truly believe in the good of the world. 

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

yes! i am attempting to get better at writing smut because ol&w is going to have some fucking in it so i experimented in that shisaku fic and just..... yeah idk man. idk... its something i do want to get better at cause, meh why not? and i want to write some good porn for my readers damnit! HAHAHA 

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

hmmm,,, probably that i stress so much and yet so little at the same time? allow me to elaborate! i stress so much about whether my writing is actually good or if people are just being nice LMAO and also posting, i get cold sweats and a thumping heart and yiKES

but also, i enjoy writing so its like “fuck you (jk ily guys) imma write what i wanna!”...do you see my issue? HAHAHA

also, im a planner. most of the time, and a lot of the details in my more serious fics (ol&w) are blink and miss details but they’re important and i LOVE foreshadowing!!!! like yes, i will vaguely mention something and itll simply come back with a vengeance! 

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

aaaaaa okokok thank you for this ask LMAO i just love talking about writing and rambling (as i often do,, im a long winded person, im very sorry)! 

but anyways! my summer semester just started up and i’m taking three purely online classes and the college im attending (im a dual enrollment student; meaning a high school and college kid,, taking advantage of the system!) fucked up my schedule so! im taking two TWELVE WEEK CLASSES that will end in AUGUST???? and then my fall sem starts five days later so... no summer break for nadia! yay...

writing will be very slow and updates will be too, which i am so sad and frustrated about because i’ve finally hit a paved road and now we’re driving into the forest! all bumps and bruises damnit! BUT worry not! i (as i said above, am i severe planner. every day has a plan, i am also an avid lover of lists also. i have lists for EVERYTHING) am working out a schedule so that i can get all my school shit done as soon as i can (while not failing) and write while hopefully not burning myself out.  

ol&w is such an intricate fic and im truly trying to give it the justice it deserves,,, im just hoping that my dear readers can bear with me HAHAHAHA there is honestly so much going on in that fic; shikamaru’s development, the underlying plot, the hate to love build up, the world building, and then laying down the foundations for the next fic (because yes, this is supposed to be a trilogy.. question is; will i be able to write it?) (answer: maybe. hopefully. i desperately want to but it might take some time.)

BUT ASLO i have so many oneshots i want to write! kisame week! kakashi week! kibasaku long fic! and not to mention my og work that i plan on rewriting and putting up on ao3 because a few people showed some interest. there is just so much to do and write and i am itching to do it all! but. well, but school, and the exhaustion of insomnia, and the weight of stress, sigh. 

shit sucks, it is what it is. but writing is like my safe haven and i just love pouring all myself into my fics and then baring my soul to you all and you take a peek and decide to keep looking. that is my favorite part of this little pocket of tumblr. 

this was not really... fic related? more like a dump of issues! so sorry about that AHAHAHAH 

anyways! thank you so much mittens! :)))))))))

pick my brain!

[sciencespies]

To Boost Black Men in Medicine, Advocates Turn to Sports

https://sciencespies.com/nature/to-boost-black-men-in-medicine-advocates-turn-to-sports/

To Boost Black Men in Medicine, Advocates Turn to Sports

Emily Laber-Warren, Undark

Aaron Bolds didn’t consider becoming a physician until he tore a ligament in his knee while playing in a basketball tournament when he was 15. His orthopedic surgeon was Black, and they hit it off. “He was asking me how my grades were, and I told him, ‘I’m a straight-A student,’ and he was, like, ‘Man, this is a great fallback plan if basketball doesn’t work out,’” recalls Bolds, who is African American.

“He looked like me,” Bolds says, “and that was even more encouraging.” 

If not for that chance encounter, Bolds, 34, a doctor at Mount Sinai Health System in New York, might never have gone into medicine, he says. When he was growing up, there were no physicians in his family or extended social network to model that career path. And at the schools he attended, he says, his aptitude for science didn’t trigger the kind of guidance young people often receive in more privileged contexts.

What Bolds did get attention for was his athletic ability. He got a full basketball scholarship to Lenoir-Rhyne University in North Carolina, where his team won a conference championship. But when he transferred to Bowie State University in Maryland, where he also played basketball, an academic adviser discouraged his pre-med ambitions, Bolds recalls, saying his grades were low and he lacked research experience.

Bolds is not alone in finding in athletics a fraught lever of educational opportunity. Whereas Black players comprise more than half the football and basketball teams at the 65 universities in the top five athletic conferences, and bring in millions of dollars for their schools year after year, the graduation rates for Black male college athletes are significantly lower — 55 percent as compared to 69 percent for college athletes overall — according to a 2018 report from the USC Race and Equity Center. Many Black college athletes end up without either a professional sports contract or a clear career path. 

Now some educators and advocates are looking to reverse this trend by connecting sports, an area in which African American men are overrepresented, and medicine, where the opposite is true. As of 2018, 13 percent of the U.S. population, but just 5 percent of doctors — according to the Association of American Medical Colleges — identified as Black or African American. (The AAMC data notes that an additional 1 percent of doctors identified as multiracial.) Decades of efforts to increase diversity at medical schools have made progress with other demographics, including Black women — but barely any with Black men. “No other demographic group is broken down with such a large split between men and women,” says Jo Wiederhorn, president and CEO of the Associated Medical Schools of New York. “And none of them have stayed stagnant, like that group has.”

According to data the AAMC provided to Undark, the proportion of Black men enrolling in medical school hasn’t changed much since 1978 — with only some headway being made in the past few years.

The absence of Black male medical professionals ripples across the health system, experts say, contributing to widespread health disparities. African Americans tend to be diagnosed later than White people with everything from cancer to kidney disease, leading to more advanced disease and earlier deaths. Meanwhile, a recent study suggests that Black men who see Black male doctors may be more likely to follow medical advice. Other research also suggests that racially concordant care, in which patients and doctors have a shared identity, is associated with better communication and a greater likelihood to use health services.

“We are in a crisis point, nationally,” says Reginald Miller, the dean for research operations and infrastructure at Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai. “I don’t think it’s a stretch to suggest that the health of communities of color are directly proportional to the number of practitioners available to see,” he says. “It’s just that straightforward.”

Last year, the National Medical Association, a professional organization representing African American physicians, embarked with the AAMC on a joint effort to address the structural barriers to advancement for Black men. “We need to look at this with a unique lens,” says Norma Poll-Hunter, senior director of workforce diversity at the AAMC.

There is no single solution to such an entrenched and multifaceted problem, Poll-Hunter says. According to her, some medical schools have adopted a holistic admissions process that evaluates many personal factors rather than relying on standardized test scores, which can exclude promising Black candidates. In addition, she says, students of color need better access to high-quality K-12 science education, particularly in under-resourced public schools. “There are a lot of barriers that exist early on,” she notes, “and that then creates this narrowing of the pathway to medicine.”

But the novel strategy of wooing athletes is slowly gaining traction. Advocates point out that high-performing athletes possess many of the skills and attributes that doctors, psychologists, physical therapists, and other medical professionals need — things like focus, a commitment to excellence, time management, and problem-solving skills, as well as the ability to take constructive criticism and perform under pressure.

“When you say, ‘What’s your ideal medical student?’ it’s not just a kid who’s academically gifted. It’s a kid who’s got resilience, attention to detail, knows how to work on the team,” Miller says. “Because science and medicine are team sports.” And by virtue of being athletes, these young men are already attuned to nutrition, fitness, and other aspects of human biology.

Two former NFL players, Nate Hughes and Myron Rolle, recently became physicians. And there is evidence that competitive sports experience contributes to medical success. A 2012 study of doctors training to become ear, nose, and throat specialists at Washington University, for example, found that having excelled in a team sport was more predictive of how faculty rated their quality as a clinician than strong letters of recommendation or having attended a highly-ranked medical school. Likewise, a 2011 study found that having an elite skill, such as high-achieving athletics, was more predictive of completing a general surgery residency than medical school grades.

Advocates of the athletics-to-medicine pipeline point out its practicality. Thousands of Black men are already in college, or headed there, on athletic scholarships. It would only take a small percentage of them choosing medical careers to boost the percentage of Black male doctors to better reflect the proportion of African American men in the general population, they say.

No one thinks it will be easy. One obstacle, advocates say, is a lack of role models. Black sports celebrities are household names, but some young athletes may never encounter a Black medical professional. “People don’t believe they can become what they don’t see,” says Mark R. Brown, the athletic director at Pace University.

And for the best chance of success, many say, these young men need to form and pursue medical aspirations as young as possible, along with their athletic training. “Those kids who are able to do both, the rewards at the end are enormous,” Miller says. But the adults in their lives may not believe the dual path is possible. “The second that a kid says to a science teacher or someone else that he’s an athlete,” Miller says, “they go into a different category. ‘They’re not really serious about science and medicine, they’re just here, and so I don’t expect this kid to really achieve.’”

Rigid course and practice schedules also make it challenging for busy athletes to undertake demanding and time-intensive science majors, observers say. What’s needed is “a cultural change, and not just a cultural change with the athletes. It’s a cultural change with the whole structure,” Miller says. “Everybody’s excited about the idea” of the physician athlete, he adds, “because it makes sense. But when the rubber hits the road, it is challenging.”

Donovan Roy, the assistant dean for diversity and inclusiveness at the Western Michigan University Homer Stryker M.D. School of Medicine, was one of the first people to envision the potential of directing Black athletes toward medical careers.

Roy, 48, who is Black and a former college football player, grew up in the working class, primarily Black and Latino community of Inglewood, California. Attending an elite private high school on a football scholarship was eye-opening. He vividly remembers the first time he ever saw a walk-in pantry, at a friend’s home. “It was stocked like a convenience store,” he recalls. “Five different types of Hostess, Ding-Dongs, sodas, every type of snack that you ever wanted.” Equally startling was speaking with another friend’s mother, who was a lawyer. “I’d never seen a road map to success in my community,” he says.

Roy’s athletic talent continued to open doors — at 18 he got a scholarship to the University of Southern California — but poorly prepared by the under-resourced public schools he had attended through ninth grade, he struggled academically, and left both USC and later another university that he also attended on an athletic scholarship.

Eventually Roy found his footing, and when he did, he became a learning specialist. After working through his own academic struggles, he wanted to help others with theirs. Roy took a job as a learning skills counselor at UCLA’s medical school. There he helped the students who were struggling with classes like anatomy and genetics. In early 2015, he returned to USC as the director of academic support services at Keck School of Medicine.

Something Roy noticed at both these medical schools stuck with him, though it would take a few years for the observation to crystallize. A certain kind of student sought help despite, by ordinary standards, not needing it. These were the athletes, and many of them were Black or Latino. “They always talked about, ‘How can I excel? How can I get better?’” he recalls. They “were getting 90s and they wanted to be 100.”

Roy began a doctoral program in education in 2015, the same year the AAMC published a damning report about the lack of Black men entering medical school. This was a crisis Roy understood both personally and professionally. For his dissertation, he decided to interview 16 Black male students at Keck School of Medicine. What was it about them, he wanted to understand, that had gotten them there against all odds?

The answer, he discovered, was what academics call social capital. For medical students from privileged backgrounds, social capital might take the form of a family friend who arranges a summer internship at a biotechnology lab, or a well-funded high school that offers advanced placement science classes. The young men Roy interviewed did not, for the most part, have access to those sorts of resources.

“Growing up, I didn’t see a Black male with a college degree until I got to college,” medical student Jai Kemp said in a separate interview Roy conducted for a documentary he’s making on the topic. The social capital these young men leveraged to get to medical school took the form of parental support, science enrichment programs and clubs, peer social networks, faculty mentors — and the perks that come with athletics. “For me it was just sports that got me through,” Kemp said.

The pieces started to fit together. Roy knew from his own experience all the benefits athletes get, not just entrée to educational institutions, but travel, enrichment, and academic advantages like tutoring and early class registration. Athletes also tend to possess social cachet on campus and, with more exposure to different types of people, may feel comfortable in environments that seem foreign and forbidding to other young people from disadvantaged backgrounds. Roy also recalled the drive for academic excellence he had observed in the athletes who came to his tutoring programs. “I got this epiphany,” he says. “Why don’t we look at student athletes in order to increase Black males’ representation in medicine, because they have the most social capital and the most network on predominantly White campuses.”

Donovan Roy at the Western Michigan University Homer Stryker M.D. School of Medicine, where he is now the assistant dean for diversity and inclusiveness. While working on his doctoral degree, Roy interviewed Black men in medical school and discovered one key to their success: social capital.

Mark Bugnaski

But when Roy began talking to his medical school colleagues about recruiting athletes, who according to a report from the Center for American Progress — a liberal think tank — make up 16 percent of Black male college students receiving athletic aid in the Big 12 athletic conference, he says most weren’t receptive to the idea. The same thing happened when he got up the nerve to make the suggestion publicly at a 2018 conference in Orlando, Florida. The idea ran against type. “I think people tend to lump athletes into this box,” he says. “They just think that athletes are big meatheads.”

Roy knew this truth viscerally, because with his offensive lineman’s build of 6-feet-6-inches and 300-plus pounds, he sticks out in academic settings. “People stare,” he says. “They do not expect me to be in the role that I am in.”

What Roy didn’t know was that the idea was percolating elsewhere, including at the National Collegiate Athletic Association. Brian Hainline, the NCAA’s chief medical officer, says he and Poll-Hunter of the AAMC are in talks with several universities about launching a pilot program to support African American athletes interested in medical careers.

Meanwhile, in 2018 Miller founded the organization Scholar-Athletes with Academic Goals (a.k.a. SWAG, a name he hopes will resonate with young people). The initiative connects promising athletes with a range of available programs to help them pursue and succeed in science and medicine. Recently, Miller worked closely with leadership at Pace University to create a program, expected to launch next year, to support Black college athletes interested in attending medical school. Pace officials want the initiative to become a magnet for out-of-state athletes and a model for other schools. “My hope is that two years from now, colleges and universities will call” and ask, “Wow, how did you do this?” says athletic director Brown. “Once we have some success, and proof of concept, then I think it can really grow.”

Bolds graduated medical school in 2018 and is now doing his residency at Mount Sinai. His focus is rehabilitation medicine, and he plans to tend to injured athletes and serve as a team physician. He got a business degree while in medical school, and his long-term goal is to open his own interventional spine and sports medicine practice specializing in preventing and rehabilitating injuries in both athletes and non-athletes, as well as helping serious players enhance their performance.

But there were tough moments along the way, such as the encounter with that academic adviser, which Bolds says only served to motivate him. At the time, he thought, “Wow, this person doesn’t believe in me. So let me make them a believer,” he recalls. “That was, moving forward, really a turning point for me, honestly. Because I knew that people aren’t going to believe in you unless you give them a reason to.”

Bolds began to apply an athletic mindset to his pre-med classes. “That same grind of having to get up, 5 a.m., get to the gym, get shots up before anybody gets there, to put in that extra time — I was doing that with my studies,” he says. “I would get to the library before anybody.” Once Bolds turned his grades around, professors began to notice and help him, he says. Still, he says, his score on the MCAT, an entrance exam required by nearly all U.S. medical schools, was borderline. Instead of giving up, he attended multiple events at Howard University’s medical school, where he met people who advocated for him. It was the only medical school he got into.

Whereas Bolds had to bushwhack, he saw other Black students fall off the medical path — and his fellow Black teammates avoided it entirely. Many athletes find themselves enmeshed in a profit-making system that may not prioritize their education. The NCAA has been criticized in recent years for its long-standing policy which prohibits profit-sharing with college athletes — a policy that was only recently reversed under interim guidelines. Others have said that Black labor has been especially exploited.

In his residency, Bolds is focusing on rehabilitation medicine, and is pictured here working at Mount Sinai’s sports medicine clinic.

Jeenah Moon for Undark

As of 2014 reports, fewer than 2 percent of athletes in the NCAA will go on to play professionally. But for self-serving reasons, critics say, (Clemson University’s football team, for example, made $77 million in average annual revenue from 2015 through 2017) universities often direct athletes to “academic paths of least resistance.” Many schools practice “major clustering,” in which players are steered to the same relatively undemanding major, such as communications, so they can devote themselves almost entirely to their sport. Major clustering is more pronounced among athletes of color, according to a 2009 study of football teams at 11 universities. At six of those schools, the study found, over three-quarters of the non-White football players were enrolled in just two academic majors, although dozens of majors were offered.

Sheron Mark, an associate professor of science education at the University of Louisville, co-authored a 2019 case study of two young Black men who arrived at college on basketball scholarships, with the intent to pursue respective careers in computer science and engineering. But both found it difficult to balance academics with athletics because of pressure and blandishments from coaches and faculty advisers.

“For so long, they’ve been sold this message that you don’t have many choices, that banking on a professional sports career is one of very few options for you if you want to advance your station in life,” says Mark of many Black athletes. It’s important to have a plan B, she says, since “the odds just aren’t in their favor.” But coaches can discourage academically demanding majors because they may cut into practice time, and college athletes are not always capable of pushing back, she says, because their financial packages are tied to fulfillment of their team responsibilities.

Many Black college athletes are already strong candidates for medical school, advocates say, but others may need extra academic support to compensate for deficits acquired at under-resourced K-12 schools. They may also need post-graduation training to take science classes they did not have time for while working long hours as athletes — with some working 20-plus hours a week. “How are they being mentored and guided and protected in planning for their futures?” Mark asks. “They are high achieving in sports, they want to be high achieving in academics. Why don’t we support them?” When people wonder whether student-athletes can cut it in science and medicine, Mark’s response is: “It’s on us. It’s on us to help them do so. That’s how we can grow their representation.”

That’s what Pace University intends to do. The school already nurtures academic success in its athletes, who collectively had a B+ average last school year, but premedical studies have never been a great fit, in part because afternoon practices can conflict with long lab classes, says athletic director Brown. As part of the school’s new initiative, Pace science departments have pledged to offer flexibility in course section offerings in order to accommodate football commitments. Athletes of color from any sport will be welcome, but football was prioritized because it is the largest and one of the most diverse teams and has the most complicated schedule, Brown says.

The school also plans to adjust its advising, tutoring, and library services to ensure that pre-med athletes won’t falter when they struggle with personal issues or tough classes like organic chemistry. “Rather than saying, ‘Oh, chemistry, nobody likes chemistry, you’re right, you should just drop that,’ instead now it’s going to be, ‘Yeah, you’ve got to buckle down. And here’s how we’re going to do it,’” says Hillary Knepper, the university’s associate provost for student success.

Meanwhile, Brown will be directing his coaches to actively recruit Black and Latino high school athletes who are interested in medicine. In the past, Brown says, his coaches were less likely to select such students because of anticipated scheduling challenges. But now Pace is trying to establish a partnership through which a nearby medical school would give preferred consideration to pre-med athletes who have completed the Pace curriculum. “With our new approach, you’re not only going to have the ability to do it,” he says, “but you’re going to have a support system, to make sure that you follow the path.”

Some advocates for the athlete-to-doctor paradigm see this work as part of the larger movement for social justice. “Look what Jackie Robinson did, right? Look at Muhammad Ali, look at Colin Kaepernick,” Roy says. “Athletics has always been the vehicle for social change.”

Medical professionals can influence public policy, accumulate wealth, and help empower others in their orbit. “The impacts ramp up really quickly, from just that individual benefiting,” Mark says, to “your family, your neighborhood, your social network, and society — people you won’t even meet, and across generations.”

Studies suggest that African American doctors are more likely to choose to work in underserved communities. They also may be more attuned to, and motivated to combat, the disparities in health care. A study published last year, for example, suggests that Black newborns are half as likely to die when they are cared for by a Black physician.

Bolds is keenly aware of the health disparities for Black communities, and he jumps at opportunities to mentor other young Black men, to show them that they, too, can become doctors. “It seems like there’s so many steps that just are never-ending,” he says. But, he adds, to see someone “that you can connect with that’s at that finish line or has already passed that finish line — I think that’s very key to their success.”

One of the people Bolds has connected with is Darius Ervin, a talented Black basketball player from Crown Heights, Brooklyn, who is now a sophomore at Cornell University. The two met when Ervin attended a virtual event late last year, sponsored by SWAG, at which Bolds spoke. Afterwards, the two chatted, and Bolds now checks in periodically with Ervin, who says he appreciates the encouragement. “Those are people that have once laced up shoes and got on the court and played just like how I did, and now they’re in the hospital helping people,” he says. “Being able to speak to those people gives me the visual, allows me to see that it’s an opportunity and it’s definitely possible for me to do.”

UPDATE: A previous version of this article referred imprecisely to the institutional affiliation of Donovan Roy. He is at the Western Michigan University Homer Stryker M.D. School of Medicine, not the Homer Stryker M.D. School of Medicine at Western Michigan University.

Emily Laber-Warren directs the health and science reporting program at the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism at CUNY.

This article was originally published on Undark. Read the original article.

Doctors

Health

Medicine

Race and Ethnicity

Sports

#Nature

[promethes]

how an idiot like me got into good schools

A quick run-through of my academic history and how I got into good colleges will be below the cut! I’m also including a list of some of the schools I got into for reference. I apologize in advance for how messy this is, but my memory is shitty and I remember random things that I keep throwing in lol. (and for people congratulating me, thank you very much, but I got into all these schools last year lol! so keep in mind I graduated high school in 2019)

If all you came for are the basic stats and you don't want my rambling: I went to a public school GPA: around 4.4 on 4.0 scale (3.9 unweighted) SAT: 1520/1600 APs: 10 (4 3s, 2 4s, 4 5s) Extracurricular: mainly NHS (around 300 volunteering hours), StuCo, Varsity Golf, and Quiz Bowl

EDIT: comments made by the readers who reviewed my application are available here!

First off, I am not an einstein! I am blessed that I pick up on stuff easily and gifted in academics, but I’m nowhere near a genius. For a little backstory, I went to a public school in Michigan for the entirety of my pre-k - 12 education. When I was in the third grade, the district introduced an accelerated program. We took a quasi IQ test and if we tested high enough (I think the threshold was 80%? If I remember correctly I got a 97) we were put in a class that was 2 years ahead in English and Math. We stayed grouped together for the rest of our public schooling, basically a core group of around 20 people. Since we were the first year of the program and our grade was exceptionally gifted for some weird reason, it was a very high achieving group of students, so I’m going to include their stats along with mine for comparison because colleges also factor in your peers when they look at your stats.

I’ll start off with basic stats:

I got a 1520 on the SAT. My grade had around 5 - 10 people achieve over 1500. Some of them had been studying for years, while others (me) did not know that the SAT existed until that year and couldn’t afford any private tutoring and had no patience for the study books from the library. I’m lucky to have an aptitude for the skills they were testing. I did not take any SAT subject tests.

For GPA, I think I ended up with around a 4.4 on a 4.0 scale. I was around 15/350 when it came to class standing, so I was far from the valedictorian. I think our valedictorians got around a 4.6 or 4.7.

I took 10 AP tests. I got a 3 in APUSH, World History, Language and Comp (I fell asleep lol), and Chem (I will get into this class a little later). I got a 4 in Literature (I fell asleep. Again.) and in Psychology. I got a 5 in Calc AB & BC, Comp Sci Principles, and Environmental Science.

AP classes were really pushed in my high school, especially onto my grade, and I don’t like being told what to do lol so I pushed back and took fewer AP classes than most of my peers (valedictorians ended up with maybe 15? It’s crazy) and basically only took classes I was interested in or that I had to take because I had exhausted the rest of the curriculum.

I also dual-enrolled in 2 classes at the local community college since I’d exhausted the curriculum at my high school for things I wanted to do (english and comp sci). I want to make it clear that I never sat down and planned how I was going to maximize my schedule or how I’d take the most advanced classes, I just fell into it since we had already essentially skipped two grades. Most people didn’t dual enroll since they wanted the AP GPA boost.

For extracurriculars, I mainly focused on Quiz Bowl, Golf, NHS (volunteered around 350 hours in 3 years I think) and Student Government. I never had any leadership positions and just kind of fucked around most of the time. Most of my peers held several leadership positions throughout the years and did like a bazillion things. 5 of them even traveled to Europe for some science research thing where they presented their research. I was not that big of a nerd.

In junior year, I stumbled on something called Questbridge and decided to apply because I wanted the money for the scholarship. I became a Questbridge college prep scholar, which then led me to apply for the National College Match. I didn’t rank any binding schools so I didn’t match, but I did apply to several schools with their application. If you are a low-income high achieving student, I highly recommend looking them up. I was the first person in my school to do this program and encouraged my peers to do it too. I think 4 of us were Questbridge scholars.

As you can see, I had good numbers, which probably got me past the first wave of application look throughs. However, I’m fairly confident that what made me stand out was my essays. I always stress this to whoever asks me for advice: do not write a perfect essay, write YOUR essay. I can only imagine how bored those poor people are of reading about someone winning a soccer game or a spelling bee. Add some pizzazz in there. Talk about your flaws and your mistakes and your unique life experiences! 

For example, my personal essay wasn’t even in essay format! I wrote it like journal entries, focusing on my sophomore year when my life was Extra Tumultuous and I was going through homelessness. I did not say I was homeless once in the essay. I just did day by day entries of what my life was like during that time and through that the readers were able to see that I loved to read, that I am fiercely protective of my single-parent family, and they saw how I handled adversity. I want to stress that I’m not encouraging poverty porn at all. I did not write it to make the reader feel bad. I simply relayed what I thought about in a day, focusing on both big and small.

I also wrote about funny things related to academics, partly to explain my transcript and partly to be funny. This is the AP Chem thing. I actually dropped out of it after one term (so about a third of the way through) so I could dual enroll in a class I was interested in instead. My chem teacher HATED that since I was good at chemistry (hate it. Hate that subject so much) and tried to convince me to stay. One of the things he said was “You’ll never be ready for college if you don’t take this class! You wouldn’t even be able to pass the AP test!” so I said bet. dropped the class and signed up for the AP test that same day and showed up almost every day for the rest of the year and dicked around the entire class, taking naps in the back of the lab, sitting on his desk, cracking jokes about whatever he was teaching. I got a 3 on that exam purely out of spite with only half the information I needed. So write about stuff like that. It’s fun.

The fact that I had no guidance in writing the essays was actually really good for me since I just kind of let loose. My UChicago essay read like I was on crack, and they loved it so much that they literally mentioned it during the welcome speech for their little college visit in April.

And don’t sweat over the small stuff! The short answers don’t have to be perfect and mind-blowing, just answer honestly. For the “why Yale” supplemental essay I just ranted about how beautiful their library is for a good 300 words (at some point I said I needed my inhaler because it was that breathtaking. I made a Yale admissions officer read that.) I ranted about Howl’s Moving Castle to Columbia. I told them my favorite magazine was the American Girl ones for their arts and crafts! I have a friend at Columbia who literally sent them a picture of her in a duck costume as a supplement. They loved it. So don’t lose your mind trying to sound worldly and educated. You’re like. 17. Just answer honestly and don’t think too hard about it.

I was also extremely lucky to have a dedicated counselor who sat down for hours with each individual student to write fantastic letters of recommendation. She really made it clear what I had achieved and what challenges I’d faced.

So. tl;dr: I got lucky. Unless your parents donated a couple billion to the school, there are no guarantees. Sometimes you can have the stats and perfect essays and amazing extracurriculars and you can still get rejected because they don’t think you’re a good fit with the school compared to the rest of the applicants. There’s limited space in the student body. I got into schools my valedictorians didn’t get into even though I was academically less than them in every possible way. So let yourself shine through your essays and know you’ll end up in an environment that values the person they saw in those essays.

I got into a lot of schools, and don’t really have a record of all of them, but here are some of the top ones I can remember off the top of my head:

Yale, Columbia, University of Chicago (likely letter), Northwestern, University of Michigan, Northeastern, CWRU, UNC Chapel Hill, and a couple other schools here and there that slip my mind at the moment.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

This Too Shall Last 

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This is based off of @dumb-bitch-starker‘s post that you can find here! I saw it and had to try my hand at it. I’ve got some personal experience with marriage young, so it was a fun one!  Warnings: NSFW stuff - lots of fluff, be ready!  Summary: 

Peter Parker is from a small town in rural Virginia. After winning the National Spelling Bee, he's given the opportunity to go to an advanced private school. Midtown is where he meets Tony Stark, a brown haired boy with an affinity of beating him to the punch. They grow up together and find that what they were looking for wasn't all that far away. This is the story of how these two move from friends to boyfriends to husbands.

Or, the one where Peter Parker is a genius and has an epic friendship turned romance with Tony Stark.

Read it on AO3 here

For Peter, being smart was his foot in the door to a world that for the longest time, he could only imagine. In the town he lived in with is Aunt, there was one school that catered to all of the grades, K-12. There were two stop lights and a singular gas station nestled in the heart of town. Aside from a handful of transplants, most of the town’s population consisted of long lines of families and those that were establishing them. May still had her mail delivered to her by the same man from her later childhood.

All and all – getting out of that place was the only option and luckily – Peter was blessed with the means to do it.

After winning the National Spelling Bee at the young age of 6, Peter got several scholarship offers for some of the private schools around the Virginia area. It would have been nice to actually get away from his little town and go to one of the more prestigious ones – but May needed him around and could only truly afford to see him go 45 minutes away instead of the several hours some of the other schools offered.

Midtown Private catered to the rich of the Virginia Beach area – Peter understood that immediately. Even as a young kid, he realized that his old backpack and battered shoes were something completely different compared to the people around him. It didn’t take a genius (even though he was,) to catch onto the fact that everyone else had drivers drop them off – he watched them file out of their pretty cars from the bus stop every morning. There wasn’t much to be done, though – the opportunity was there, and he planned to take it.

Despite all of the differences between him and the rest of the student population, Peter excelled. After a few days in his second-grade class, it was obvious that the people around him were also of another caliber in the classroom. In his old school, he spent most of his days completely bored. Since the first day at Midtown, Peter felt challenged – his brain finally stretched the way it needed to be. His classmates were able and more than willing to participate in the classroom. A brown-haired boy with quick hands beat him to the punch a lot of the time – but he didn’t mind, there was something to be said about someone just as interested in the information.

At the end of his first week, Peter found out who the brown-haired boy was. His eyes were still wide from the initial shock of walking into a lab that he could fit his entire house into. There were so many different tools and instruments he’d never seen before – things that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. It looked like a scene out of some of his favorite science fiction movies that played late at night. He sat down at the closest cluster of chairs and looked around with marvel.

The chair at the desk next to him moving on the floor brought him out of his excitement induced trance – he cracked a smile when the brown-haired boy sat down. “You’re the new kid, right?” he asked – the question rattled off without an ounce of hesitation. There weren’t many kids his age that behaved that way; his difficulty making friends stemmed from a lot of things and that was one of them. Tilting his head, Peter took him in for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m Peter,” he finally replied, his body shifting slightly in the seat to see the other kid a little more clearly.

They met eyes for the first time then, the brown of the other’s eyes reminding him the color of milk chocolate melting on the stove. For some reason, that made him feel a little calmer – the hue reminding him so much of fondue night with May.

The kid was smiling at him, his hands flipping open the folder he pulled out of his bag. “Hi. My mom makes me introduce myself as Anthony – but that name is stupid, so just call me Tony.” While he spoke, he slipped a worksheet in front of Peter.

“Do you like science like you like math?” Tony asked him, his eyes looking at the sheet briefly, then straying back in Peter’s direction. It felt weird, having someone understand his likes without evening knowing him – Tony pinpointed him just by observing. He wondered, not for the last time in his life, just what else Tony effortlessly observed about him.

Glancing down at the paper, his eyes lit up when he recognized the microscope on it. Just last Christmas, he got a small lab set that came with beakers and a microscope – he spent hours taking it apart and putting it back together for many weeks after that. The reading level of what he was looking at surpassed even what a class like this would provide for them – so he was immediately excited.

“I love science. I’m going to go to space one day,” Peter muttered, his eyes still looking over the paper in front of him. He wondered where Tony got it – the board at the front of the room said they were looking at the different types of rocks and there wasn’t an accessible microscope in sight. “This is a light microscope, right? What are you looking at with it?” He finally pulled himself away from the difficult information, his brain on fire.

He couldn’t tell if Tony was on the verge of excitement or blowing up at him, the look on his face a little unreadable. “You want to go to space? I want to build rockets. I’ve been trying to read through a book about Apollo 13 – but that words are kind of hard.” He shrugged then, his hand reaching over to take the sheet back from Peter’s desk.

“I don’t know what I’m going to look at yet – my dad said I needed to learn more about it before I could touch his expensive equipment.” Tony made the infamous air quotes and rolled his eyes – the look on his face making Peter laugh.

“My aunt says stuff like that, too. She bought me a starter lab kit last year for Christmas – and I’m terrified to break it. I may never get anything cool ever again, if I do.” He crinkled his nose, the thought making his brain hurt a little. “I’ve taken the microscope in it apart and put it back together a bunch of times – I can help you, if you want,” Peter added in after a second, his eagerness in the suggestion apparent.

Tony took a second to answer back – his cheeks were turned up in a smile, but he stayed silent, regardless. “Okay,” he said simply, a soft look on his face. “Sit with me at lunch – I want you to tell me more about this lab kit.”

That day was forever engrained in Peter’s head – he later came to find out that Tony, who was Tony Stark, son of Howard Stark, the frontrunner in plane, boat, and submarine technology and construction – was the smartest and most sought after friend in the entire school. People did not talk to him for weeks after they sat together that first day at lunch. It was laughable that something as silly as that was the thing that made him an outsider.

For years, Peter ran in the same circle as Tony in a lot of ways. From that fateful day in science on, Tony sought Peter out as a lab partner. Even being in a school where everything was advanced, both boys were more than capable of bigger things. Tony invited Peter to his dad’s lab every now and again – despite how much May hated having to drop him off at the fancy gate whenever he went.

After proving his worth and commitment to thorough research and a safe approach, Tony got access to a lot of cool things; a few of these things he shared with Peter. Between third and sixth-grade, Peter and Tony built a different (and progressively more advanced) robot each year for the science fair. Being friendly with someone like Tony was like being shown a different world; both the boy’s personality and background contributed to that, too. He learned something new about the boy every instance they spent any time together.

Middle brought the ability to do extracurricular activities – an opportunity in which Peter took complete advantage of. Enjoying the robot building process so much, Tony convinced him to join the Robotics team. He also found himself recruited to the track and field team after a startlingly fast mile during physical fitness week. Both activities were so much more than he ever thought imaginable for himself – so he went above and beyond to be amazing at them.

Running came naturally to him, he quickly came to find out. All of his middle school years were spent going to conference, regional, and national meets. The year before entering into high school, Peter broke the 1500-meter record and won a middle school national championship. Walking onto a new campus the next year, Peter found himself embraced by the teammates he had previously and the new ones he gained – not for the first time, he felt surprised by the odd dynamic of the people he luckily found himself surrounded by.

The opportunity to get ahead in college came around his junior year. He took all of the AP science classes and passed with ease, so there wasn’t much left in his high school to take – a select few that were of similar academic standing were cleared to take dual enrollment classes that would count as college credit. There were tons of science he was going to need in college, the ability to knock out a few of them was too hard to pass up.

He barely made it to the early college campus before his first class started late one September – the bus was running behind again and had been all week. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Peter took a seat towards the back of the class – the person next to him none other than Tony Stark. “I thought I’d see you here,” Tony mumbled towards him as he settled in, the now very, very, very handsome boy’s cheeks curling up into a grin. “Did you have to run to get here?

Looking around for a second, Peter noticed there wasn’t much happening – the front of the class empty, no professor in sight. “From the bus stop, yes. The earlier buses always run a little late,” he explained, his chest finally relaxing, the tightness ceasing now that he wasn’t running at full speed, anymore. It felt good to sit down after that.

“That’s no bueno, Pete – I need my lab partner fresh and on his toes. You can ride with me,” Tony stated, his voice definitive, the tone just barely shy of being bossy. “We’re both going to the same place – I don’t mind.” He finished his words with a smile, the look enough to make him laugh a little.

There wasn’t any reason not to accept the offer – the thought of not having to take the bus four times every day sounded pretty dang good. “Okay – if you really don’t mind.” Peter reached across and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, his fingers tightening. “Thanks, Tony,” he murmured, his eyes alight.

Tony tilted his head a little, brown eyes watching Peter closely for a second before he nodded – his eyebrows arching. “I really don’t mind. You’re welcome, Pete.” As he spoke, the door opened and the professor walked in, everyone in the class straightening up – the authority of the person at the front of the class still respected at their age.

For the rest of the day, Peter didn’t think too much about Tony or his offer, there were too many interesting things being thrown his way. It wasn’t until they finished their Biochemistry lab that Peter even remembered the offer. Tony caught up to him out in the hallway, his glasses slipping down his nose a little when he stopped in front of Peter. “You don’t have practice until later, right? Want to study for a bit? I’ll take you back when we’re finished. That lab report could use a little work before we turn it in tomorrow,” Tony spoke with such confidence, the quirk in his lips natural looking, not forced like it might’ve been on Peter himself.

The glance down at his wrist was unnecessary, without looking at his watch, he knew it was pushing 2. He wouldn’t need to be back to the high school until 4:30 and with a ride, he didn’t have to worry about catching the bus. “That sounds okay to me – I think I finally figured out how to do the last problem set,” Peter replied, his thumbs slipping under the straps of his backpack. “I think I saw some good reference books when I was in the library yesterday. Let’s head that way.”

That afternoon started a chain reaction of studying together every day after class, the two of them nose deep in books until Peter’s alarm went off. The first couple of times it happened, the dirty looks were numerous – then they got smart about it. Since they were in the early college program, classes ended at the same time every day – so, they rented out a study room and spent the two hours in there, instead. The whiteboards were good for everything they were trying to accomplish, anyway.

One afternoon about halfway through the semester, Peter walked out of his last period lecture hall completely done in. Practice the day before kicked his butt and they were running low on food in the house. He snuck in a granola bar earlier – and his metabolism demolished it before he could even think about being at least somewhat satisfied. School breakfast that morning ran out a earlier than usual, so he was feeling it.

When Tony stepped up to his side a couple of minutes later, Peter looked at him blankly. “I don’t think I’ve got it in me to study today, Tony – I’m exhausted. And starving. Mostly starving, honestly,” Peter babbled, his right hand settling on his stomach – he hoped if he got there fast enough, the growl wouldn’t sound between them.

Peter rolled his eyes when they both heard the gurgle – a spot of red pressing into both of his cheeks almost instantly. He pressed against his stomach a little more firmly then, his thoughts willing the damn thing to shut the hell up. Chancing a glance up, Peter was surprised to see empathy in Tony’s eyes. Despite knowing him relatively well, there was no real way of anticipating how the boy would react – Tony worked on a scale of differing levels of sarcasm. He figured it would take the rest of his life to truly understand the rules to Tony’s game – but it felt good to see the other at least respond positively to his insignificant troubles.

“We’re so caught up on everything, Pete – I’m sure the library can do without us for the day. Do you want to go grab some food? There’s this place, Chester’s, they make the best burgers.” Tony spoke while he fidgeted with his hands, his body much like his mind – always moving, never quite satisfied.

At the mention of food, Peter’s stomach growled again, his mouth watering, too. There were a few dollars in his pocket, the idea of using it to afford food sounded like an excellent one. He nodded his head excitedly, eyes bulging a little. “Yes, that would be amazing. I’d eat your shoe if you seasoned it right. A burger sounds delicious,” Peter agreed, his feet already antsy to start moving towards the door and closer to the food.

It took a little while to get used to driving around in Tony’s fancy car. The contrast to May’s broken-down Chevy made his stomach churn a bit – but on the other hand, he got a little excited about it, too. The black Audi drove like a dream and had an engine that could easily become something too fast for its own good. The inner console was completely touchscreen and the family AI, FRIDAY, could be reached with the controls. One day he expected to walk out to a car that would drive itself.

Settling into the passenger seat, Peter felt better than he did all day and tried not to think too hard about that. In the past couple of months, Peter’s feelings about Tony went from neutral to completely over the hill for him. It wasn’t hard to feel that way about the other, though – Peter knew that from being in school with him so long.

Girls and boys alike would trip over their feet to get his attention. Yet, no one managed to catch it. Tony kept to himself for as long as Peter could remember – no matter how much people wanted him, he didn’t budge. Now that he was starting to feel the same way about the other boy, his stomach felt a little funny – like a weird mixture between giving a speech and watching Batman on TV.

There wasn’t any hope for his silly feelings to be returned, Peter knew that. He couldn’t claim to be a genius without understanding the reality of the situation in front of him. Even still, Peter was unable to keep a lid on it and found himself smiling over at Tony more in the last three weeks than in their entire existence together. Not for the first time, Peter wondered if Tony knew – his friend was too smart not to.

The drive was pretty easy – there wasn’t much traffic at that time of the day, so they were skating down the highway in Tony’s beautiful car in no time. He fiddled with the screen for a while before The Used started to play – the throwback making Peter laugh outright.

“I never pegged you for a 2000’s emo fan,” Peter said through the chuckle, his brain already supplying the lyrics to the song, regardless of his own taunt. Lots of things happened in the early days of Peter’s life – he found a weird kinship with the early 00’s songwriters; their grief and pain were tangible, and he liked that.

Peter watched Tony drum on the steering wheel with one of his hands, the other loosening and clenching with the beat. It was easy to tell that Tony was not a stranger to this type of music – the chorus of Bird and the Worm started and they both broke out singing it, their voices surprisingly meshing together pretty well. “I’m full of surprises, Peter Parker. I also happen to like old rock, too. What do you have to say about that?” Sarcasm dripped from the words, each one settling in the pit of Peter’s stomach – each one making that little flame of want grow the slightest bit bigger.

Catching himself smiling, Peter turned his face towards the window, the cityscape of Virginia Beach flying by them. “I think that’s okay by me. I kind of like surprises. Makes life a little more interesting. I don’t like tomatoes – I’m sure that comes as a great surprise to you,” Peter retorted, his own joke pulling a chuckle from his lips.

Tony shook his head, eyes breaking from the road to glance in Peter’s direction. “Something tells me there’s a lot more to you than just not liking tomatoes. For instance – you can run a 1500-meter race in under 4 minutes. Now that, my friend, is very surprising. I probably couldn’t even make it around the track once in 4 minutes.” Tony joined him in laughter then, the self-depreciative statement nowhere near the truth – Peter could see the obvious signs of that in the way his bicep bulged when he turned the wheel.

“It’s always a surprise to me, too. The last lap, I’m always just running on pure instinct, adrenaline, and dopamine. I didn’t know you knew that, though. We’ve never really talked about it before,” Peter realized, his thoughts manifesting in the words slipping from his mouth. Over the years, they spent so much time together and never broached the layers beneath the surface. Peter felt compelled to change that, even if it was for his own sick pleasure of knowing more about Tony, of having little pieces of him that not a lot of people get access to.

“I like statistics. Me and a couple of the guys from robotics got together to watch last year – it was cool to see the variance in all of our time guesses. You’re talented, Pete. That’s pretty hard to miss.” Tony shrugged then, his hands returning to their incessant drumming on the steering wheel.

Peter was glad for Tony’s shift in attention – the pink color on his cheeks already embarrassing without getting caught out by the boy he wanted to impress. Despite the roaring redness in his face, Peter wrapped himself in the knowledge that Tony noticed him and let the hum of his feelings crank up just a little bit louder.

That first burger stop led to a change in their routine – instead of hitting up the library, they camped out at a table in the corner of Chester’s dining room and studied. At least, it started out as studying. The topics progressively moved from Biochemistry to track and field – then even further past that into a much more personal territory. Peter learned that Tony’s parents weren’t ever around and when they were, he was avoided at all costs. In turn, Peter told Tony about his parents and uncle Ben – about the travesty of the start of his life and the small town he couldn’t wait to get away from.

He figured out pretty quickly how good it felt to simply talk to someone, especially a someone that seemed to understand more than anyone else Peter could remember encountering. Tony listened so intently, like Peter’s words were ones he needed to absorb and digest. Peter felt heard, the feeling so novel that he almost didn’t understand it – that burning sensation of actually being acknowledged. The similar look in Tony’s eyes when Peter gave him the same attention clued him in, though – the boy across from him seemed just as eager to have a pillar to lean on.

And interestingly enough, he chose Peter for the position.

A couple of days before finals week, Tony and Peter were in their normal booth at Chester’s – their shoulders pressed together to look at the textbook between them. The ringing of Peter’s phone shattered the peace of their study sanctuary – he let out a soft sigh at the break in concentration. Answering it swiftly, Peter was surprised to hear the Stanford Track & Field team coach on the other side of the line. After listening intently, Peter dropped the phone back to the table – his chest alight from the news he just received.

“That was Mike Eskind from Stanford – they want to bring me out to campus for a visit when next semester starts.” Peter looked up to catch the tail end of Tony’s huge smile – the look making his guts churn with that all too familiar heat. Shaking his head of the thought, he beamed back – their eyes locking.

“Holy shit, Pete!” Tony exclaimed, his voice the loudest pitch Peter heard him use all day. The boy jumped out of his chair – their gazes still connected. Peter followed suit without much hesitation, his entire body thrummed with excitement and pent up energy. Tony threw his arms around his hips and pulled him close – the throb of the other’s joy enough to make Peter suck in a breath, his own arms wrapping around Tony’s to join in on the embrace.

It felt right – being wrapped up in Tony’s arms. They were solid and warm, the presence of them on Peter’s hip grounding him, keeping him in the moment – the one where he got some of the greatest news of his life. He felt Tony’s head turn a little bit, his breath now gusting against the length of his neck. “Congrats,” Tony mumbled into the skin there.

Pulling back, Peter felt his grin widen, their arms not leaving each other. In the years to come, he wouldn’t be able to say who leaned in first – but all of the sudden, they were kissing. Tony’s lips were warm like the rest of him, the fullness of them pressing elegantly against Peter’s.

The initial kiss was soft, the chasteness of it a little like taking the first sip of a drink to test the flavor. Peter knew in that instant that nothing else would be as good as this – the smooth taste of Dr. Pepper, french fries, and a thing that he could only describe as Tony. It was intoxicating and enough to realize just how fucked he really was.

They inhabited the same space for another couple of moments, then Tony pulled away – one of his hands moving from Peter’s hip to cup his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever,” Tony whispered, his forehead tilting forward to rest against Peter’s. “Forever,” he mumbled again – the singular fact that they were in the middle of a public restaurant not registering to either of them. Peter closed his eyes and let himself relax into the embrace.

“Me too,” Peter replied after a while, his eyes opening for a brief second before Tony leaned forward and pressed their lips together again. The thought that maybe this might be a thing from now on made his heart skip and his head tilt a little further to the side, deepening the kiss.

Later that night, Peter thought so much about that kiss – about how utterly perfect the first one he ever got was – how, out of all the people in the world, Tony chose him to be on the receiving end of his affection. After getting to know the boy, Peter understood just how big of a thing that was – he didn’t get any in his home life, it made total sense that being able to give it wasn’t the easiest thing. Yet, it seemed to be earlier that day, the memory of Tony’s lips still ghosting across his own.

----

Finishing out the semester with all A’s, some college credit, and a boyfriend still felt surprising – even two months later when he slid into Tony’s car bright and early in the morning. This new ritual of theirs started when winter break ended, and their high school classes started back up. Since they didn’t have any early college stuff until the middle of January, both boys were free to do what they wanted after 11 every morning. Peter didn’t have any commitments until track practice at the end of the day, so they capitalized on it. His lips were so chapped by the end of the three weeks of freedom they had, and the boys were closer than ever.

He still didn’t understand why Tony wanted to drive 45 minutes in both directions to come and get him – but he wasn’t going to complain. Not having to sit on the bus so early in the morning was a beautiful thing, and all the extra time he got to spend with Tony was even better. Sometimes they were early enough to stop off and get some breakfast – and sometimes they skipped the McDonald’s and took advantage of the extra time; Tony’s back seat felt like a second home after so much time in it.

Though they were always all over each other, things hadn’t escaladed between them. Peter knew the feel of Tony’s cock through the tightness of his jeans – he knew the face Tony made when he came in his pants, but that was the extent of it. For a while, Peter worried that Tony would be mad at him for keeping things low level between them. The emotional feelings he felt for the other boy were so strong – he could only imagine what adding more to the physical sense of those feelings would be like.

With the thought in mind that junior year was the most important and the hardest, Peter and Tony kept their hands to themselves more or less and merely enjoyed being in each other’s company. When they weren’t making out in the back of Tony’s car, they studied at Chester’s or in the library, and spent time with May.

She initially wasn’t on board with the whole relationship when Peter first told her about it – then Tony came to the house for dinner and charmed her pants off. The deal was pretty much sealed after that. Tony seemed to enjoy the family aspect of being with her, and Peter enjoyed the look of happiness on his face too much to deprive him.

Peter thought that track season would put a damper on things between them, but it only seemed to strengthen their bond. Tony didn’t have anything other than robotics going on after school and they were currently on a break until championships at the end of the year – so he came to all of Peter’s meets. By the middle of the season, Peter’s teammates recognized Tony and May as his cheering section – and when things got really intense, many of them would join the pair in cheering Peter on. This was his year and the closer he got to it, the more Tony being there meant – the fact that the other cared about him enough to stand in the hot sun and rainy days was motivation and pushed him harder than he ever thought imaginable.

Winning nationals that year felt so sweet – his entire season was more than amazing and a lot of it had to do with all of the love and support he felt on a constant basis. So, it was easy to finally let Tony have the little bit of love they hadn’t experienced with each other yet. It seemed like the perfect celebration for an achievement that most people couldn’t even fathom – let alone achieve three times. The look of pride on Tony’s face made the decision pretty simple. Not even May looked at him like that – like he was the most prized trophy in the world and that Tony was the true winner here, not Peter.

It wasn’t nearly as awkward as he initially thought it might be. Tony spent a long time prepping him – the view of the boy with sweat on his brow and a look of pure concentration on his face something Peter didn’t ever want to forget. He came more than once throughout the process and when Tony did finally press inside of him, the burn of the stretch felt like the lactic acid build up at the end of a race – something he could easily push through. Watching Tony fall apart above him was almost as good as the rush of intense pleasure when his boyfriend finally found his pleasure center deep within. The utterance of his name never sounded sweeter than when Tony gasped it in the throes of pleasure – his lips finding Peter’s as he rode through it.

Slumping together on the hotel bed after they were done, Peter relaxed into Tony’s arms – the other’s soft hands ran over his hair, lips pressing against his neck every couple of seconds. “I love you, Peter Parker. I love you and I’m so proud of you. So proud, Petey,” Tony mumbled, his lips against salty skin disguising some of the words – but Peter heard enough. His heart picked up its pace, the organ not used to this sort of rush. He loved Tony – that much was obvious to everyone that got to see them together. Never in a million years did he think Tony would be the one to say it first, though.

“I love you too, Tony. Thanks for being here. Not just today, either. You’ve been the best support I’ve ever gotten. I can’t thank you enough,” Peter whispered back, his eyes a little teary. Between the exhaustion of his two days of racing and the emotional roller coaster of it all, Peter felt drained – and that meant a little more susceptible to being smacked in the face with his feelings. Looking over his shoulder, Peter reached for an awkward angled kiss – the move stopping the tears in their tracks.

Without missing a beat when they pulled away, Tony pressed a kiss to his neck and shoulder, hands traveling down Peter’s side. “You deserve it. Not just because you’re good – even though you’re fucking amazing. You bring a lot of things to the table, Pete. The more people get to see that, the more they realize just how big of an asset you are. Why do you think your teammates came up with us to cheer you on? You make an impression – you’re the greatest person I’ve ever known.”

Peter turned over to get a better look at Tony, the boy’s words so big. Now that they were facing each other, Peter could see the post-orgasm flush on Tony’s cheeks and the soft smile his lips seemed to be in on a near permanent basis these days. He pressed a kiss to the edge of his smile on both cheeks, then licked his nose in jest. “I think you’re just biased, babe,” Peter decided to say, all of the other words he could have blurted out stuck in the filter – his head everywhere and nowhere all at once.

The rush of air against his cheek when Tony laughed made his body shudder, the goosebumps taking over his flesh a nifty side effect to the soft sound of his boyfriend’s happiness. “You’re probably right.” His reply was quick and followed by a series of kisses against both of Peter’s cheeks. Tony’s hand ran hypnotically from the middle of his back all the way to the top and then back down again – his entire body now completely relaxed into the comfort of his favorite person.

As most do, their relationship changed a little bit after that. With the summer months ahead of them, there wasn’t much else to do other than spend time together. Tony’s parents left the day after they got back from nationals and would be gone for the rest of the summer – which meant they got run of the huge Stark mansion, just the two of them. They spent way too many hours in the lab constructing a couple new versions of some of their older robotics models – and fucking over available surface, too. It was one of the best summers Peter could remember and they didn’t even leave the city.

Throughout the week, Tony took Peter back and forth between his place and May’s – he still needed to do track workouts and such, so he used the mornings away from Tony to do just that. After his last win, it felt important to make sure he kept at it and tried to advance even more than he already was. He committed to Stanford at the end of the school year and didn’t want to give the school a reason to rescind the opportunity they were giving him. He and Tony were both polishing up their essays before sending in their applications – he still needed to get into the school to actually be able to go be an athlete there.

Peter felt lucky, spending the summer days surrounded in the haze of his love for Tony and the fun they could so easily have with each other. Most of his summers before were spent doing odd jobs around town to make a few extra bucks and counting down the days until he could get back to Midtown. It was miserable and Peter dreaded everything about it.

Not anymore, though – the days were dwindling down way too quickly; the freedom of the summer was too sweet to want to give up.

Regardless of his desires, senior year started without much preamble. The beauty of being with someone as smart as Tony came with having every class with him – even their early college classes on the other campus. Each day got to start and end with Tony, the exact way Peter preferred it.

About halfway through the year, May pulled him aside before he could walk out the door – her eyes filled with concern. “Pete – don’t you think you and Tony might be getting a little bit too serious? We haven’t had dinner without him in months,” May said, her face pinched up tight with discomfort. “It’s just – you’re in high school and you two act like you’re a married couple.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips – the truth of that statement hitting him square in the chest. They did and there wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t like that fact. Life with Tony in it was easy – more natural than breathing, even. It never crossed his mind, how the time they spent together might look to people around them. Tony brought him joy and happiness – and those feelings quickly became the sole focus in his life. He felt good and there wasn’t anyone who could take that away from him – not even May.

“Yeah, we do. And that’s okay. It’s not unhealthy, or anything. I like being around him, May. He makes me happy. Isn’t that what you want – for me to be happy? He’s my best friend. I’m not going to give up on the way that makes me feel – even if you think it’s too much.” Peter didn’t wait for her answer, he simply pressed a kiss to her cheek and walked out the door – the black Audi sitting there immediately making him feel better.

Settling into the seat, Peter buckled himself in before reaching across the middle console to put a hand on Tony’s thigh. “Want to know what May just said to me?” Peter asked, a soft smile on his lips. The thigh under his hand moved as Tony adjusted, his boyfriend turning a bit in the seat to see him more clearly.

“That sounds like a trick question – but I’ll bite. What did May just say to you?” Tony put the car into gear and pulled forward, his hand grabbing Peter’s and tangling their fingers together. “If it’s juicy girl talk about me, I definitely want to know.”

Peter brought their joint hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to Tony’s knuckles – his nose rubbing there for a second. Tony’s hands were always warm, the constant presence of it one of his favorite things about the other boy. “She said we act like a married couple. I can’t lie – I liked the sound of it.” And he did – very much, almost to the point where he wanted it to be the case.

Tony must have liked the sound of that, too – his fingers squeezed Peter’s tightly, his head nodding vigorously. “I too like the sound of that. We might as well be. You’re not ever going to be able to get rid of me,”

Not that he wanted to anyway, Peter thought to himself. The rest of the drive to school, Peter kept the thought at the back of his head – his brain already moving in a billion different directions. They were heading out to California together in the summer, Tony already had plans for their house (though, he failed to share them with Peter,) and his boyfriend was right – there’d be no getting rid of Tony now that the attachment was created. Peter didn’t think either of them wanted to know what it was like to be without the other.

As the year mark of their relationship crept up, so did early acceptance time for Stanford. Between finals week, making goo-goo eyes at each other, and waiting by the mail – Peter felt a little bit of stress. There’d be another opportunity to get into Stanford later on the year, his entire future wasn’t riding on this acceptance letter, yet, he couldn’t stop himself from worrying about it nonetheless.

His record was spotless – but weirder things have happened in his life and he was unable to let himself relax completely. Tony would get in, that was a given – everything about the boy shouted pristine. And despite not wanting to lean on the Stark name, Tony couldn’t escape the prestige that his family offered him.

When the letters did eventually come, Peter almost passed out when he saw the ‘Congratulations’ in the first sentence. He spent so many sleepless nights brainstorming back up plans for no reason. The ability to drop all of the stress and worry away was like lifting the bag from his head – Peter could breathe fully for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Tony pulled him into his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips, the touch lingering only for a moment. “See, you were worried for nothing,” Tony whispered, his nose brushing against Peter’s softly. “Proud of you, Pete.” He kissed him again, this time his lips lingering for a couple of minutes.

The pride they felt for each other made the celebration of their acceptances into college that much sweeter – Tony took his time with every aspect of it, his fingers reverent, his thrusts long and thorough. He pulled every ounce of pleasure from Peter’s skin, while whispering sweet words of nothing the entire time. As Peter hit his peak and felt Tony tumble down with him, the thought of forever came back and hit him again – there was a lot to be said for spending the rest of his days just like this; completely and utterly absorbed in everything Tony was and could be.

----

The rest of the year went pretty quickly after they came back from winter break. Peter scheduled his final semester to be as easy as possible – between the hopes of having his best track season and starting a life with Tony, school was the last thing on his mind. There weren’t too many options for the more advanced classes, anyway – their aeronautical engineering classes the next year would be more than enough.

Some of the best parts of the end of their senior year didn’t come from school or the track. Tony surprised him with a scavenger hunt around Virginia Beach to ask him to prom. The day ended with Tony at the end of their favorite dock with a single red rose. The other knew there wasn’t any need to even ask – they simply put on nice suits the year before and danced the night away. Yet, the fact that Tony went out of his way to make it special felt pretty damn good.

They rode in one of the Stark limos to the big hotel Midtown always held their prom in and spent the entire time making out in the back seat. For some reason, Tony’s fire burnt a little hotter that night. He pulled Peter close and kept him near when they were standing with a couple of the different groups of people they were friendly with. The last slow dance of the night ended with Tony pressing soft kisses to the shell of his ear and muttering about how much he loved him. Getting into the back of the limo, Jarvis didn’t even try to engage them in conversation, he simply rolled up the window and pulled the car away from the curb. Peter couldn’t remember a time when Tony’s touch was so hotly determined.

Their good time at prom translated into an abundance of energy for Peter – the rest of the school year and track season went by in the blink of an eye. Before anyone really knew it, he was lining up for his last ever national’s meet – that thought making his heart thump against his chest. Track was going to get him exactly what he wanted out of his life – it felt a little weird to be closing that particular chapter.

Settling onto the line, Peter closed his eyes and got himself to his spot – the place somewhere in his mind that he could just relax and let his body go. He’d been sprucing the spot up a bunch over the past year, this season one of season best yet because of it. After another second, the gun sounded and Peter took off, his eyes snapping open and completely focused on the run ahead of him.

As he turned the corner of his last ever straightaway in his high school track career, Peter found himself smiling. The last few steps felt like his best yet and when he crossed the finish line to the announcer saying his name over the speaker, he raised a hand in the air and let out a shriek of victory. What a way to end what turned out to be some of the best years of his life so far. Getting there meant so much, Peter couldn’t have done it without the people in the stands supporting him. He looked up to catch eyes with Tony and frowned when he didn’t see him. After a quick look around, Peter noticed him at the edge of the track, a smile on his face.

Tony stepped onto the track; his strides purposeful towards Peter. Tilting his head in question, Peter narrowed the space between them – “Tony, what are you doing?” Peter asked, his face pulling into a grin despite his confusion.  “The next race is – “ he started, but was shockingly interrupted by Tony getting down on one knee before him. Whatever was going to come out of his mouth next was stopped in its tracks, his brain all of the sudden narrowed down and completely focused on the person in front of him.

���This is a long time coming, Pete. I know we’re young and there are so many things that are going to change here soon – but I want to be with you when they do. Growing with you these past couple of years has been the very best thing in my life. You put a smile on my face, and I want that for every morning – every day, for the rest of the ones I have left. Marry me, Pete.” Tony flipped open the box of a simple white gold band, the elegance of its basic nature something that made the rightness of the situation standout. The decision seemed pretty easy after that.

Pulling Tony up, Peter crashed their lips together – his sweaty face and the crowd be damned; his best friend and very favorite person just asked him to share forever. He broke the kiss before it could get too heated, their lips separating just enough for Peter to mumble “yes” in the space between them. The world was narrow for a few seconds as Tony slipped the ring on his finger, a huge smile on his face.

“Well, folks – it looks like our record holder and national champion just got engaged; congratulations, Peter Parker!”

His face flushing, Peter urged Tony off the track and out of the public eye – his heart was pounding, and he wanted so much just to have Tony wrapped around him and nothing else. “I can’t believe you did that. We’re getting married,” Peter exclaimed when they were nestled into the safety of the team spaces under the bleachers. Tony was full of surprises and constantly sweeping him off of his feet. It wasn’t necessary – they both knew that. They were solid and nothing was going to change that. Yet, the weight on his left ring finger spoke volumes, the sweet whisper of the rest of their lives together, and the gentle murmur of a commitment that Peter knew Tony was never afraid to give him.

The glitz of excitement lasted all the way through the metal ceremony and the near constant interviews he gave for a couple hours after that. Everyone wanted to know about the gorgeous stranger that stepped up and asked for his hand. They were curious about everything except his last run around the track – and Peter couldn’t blame them. He didn’t have any interest in talking about running when he could still hear Tony’s words in the back of his head, each one fresh – each one trying to dig a hole in his brain and stay there, to be remembered and kept close.

Peter wasn’t naïve, he knew exactly what getting married young would be like. There were still adult things he didn’t know how to do and leaving May’s house to not only go to college, but be someone’s husband – it was scary. The thought of not having Tony with him, for any reason, was much more frightening than anything else, though; he could learn how to do the laundry and pay his taxes, his genius level intelligence needed to be good for something.

Getting back to the hotel room, Tony pulled Peter through the door and proceeded to slip his hands under the warm-up he’d been wearing since he took off his uniform. His skin was dry now, but Tony’s touch brought the goosebumps rushing back, the surface feeling like it might crack and break all over the carpet if Tony’ didn’t keep touching him. A loud cough from the other side of the room stopped them in their tracks – Peter’s eyes widening when he saw May sitting there, a weird look on her face.

“May – what are you doing here? I thought we were meeting you later?” Peter asked, his brain trying to recall when he gave May his room key. She’d been staying at the nice hotel across the street on Tony’s dime, his boyfriend adamant about making sure May was taken care of. Moving a little, Peter felt Tony’s hands fall from under his shirt, the boy grabbing for his palm, instead – their fingers tangling.

It would have been nice, to marvel in the fact that from here on out, they were going to be together. May didn’t seem to have the same idea, though. She stood and closed a little bit of the space between them – the fact that both parties were standing not lost on Peter. He knew her battle tactics – staying on her feet was the easiest way for May to prepare for an attack. Peter bit down on his lip and prepared for the worst – whatever she had to say, it probably wasn’t pretty.

Turning to Tony first, she looked him square in the eye, her lips moving without any sound coming out for a moment, the woman obviously searching for the right words. “When you asked me if you could marry him, I didn’t think you meant ten minutes later!” May exclaimed, her voice cracking a little with the intensity of it. “I would have liked to have gotten some pictures, or something.” She shook her head, then moved her glance over to Peter, eyes now soft – the heat in them gone the second she started talking at Tony.

“And you – you know you’re only 18, right? Marriage isn’t a joke. Picking up his underwear for the rest of your life is taxing and takes a lot of work. Are you ready for that? To be someone else’s before you even figure out who you are?” May’s questions were valid, her empathy obvious in every action she ever made with Peter in mind. His aunt only wanted to see him excel and succeed – he couldn’t hold her worry or curiosity against her.

Dropping Tony’s hand, Peter narrowed the space between himself and May, his arms wrapping around her shoulders to pull her into a hug. “Do you remember what Ben used to say? When the bones are good, the rest don’t matter. There’s no cracks in the foundation, May. It’ll be okay. I’m scared, too – but I want this.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek then, her arms tightening as the words seemed to sink in.

He knew using Ben against her wasn’t the fairest thing he could have done – it was obvious she felt his loss so sharply still, all these years later and she was still so desperately in love with him. His uncle’s words were ones that stuck out, though. Even as a young kid, Peter knew things weren’t always good for them.

It was a struggle to pay rent with their meager jobs – they were constantly pulling at everything they had to make ends meet; for Peter and more importantly, each other. Peter’s favorite memory of the man was when he pulled both Peter and May into his lap – he looked around the room and said, “this house won’t crumble – the bones are too good.”

And for some reason, that stuck with him. At 5, he had no idea what it meant. He looked around for days to find the bones of the house. Then Ben died and he watched May do everything she could to keep things afloat – the literal backbone of the little family unit that they were. Finding himself with Tony finally made the words mean something to him – the foundation of their relationship was strong enough to keep whatever they decided upright and standing, regardless of the things that came their way.

Tearfully, May looked between them, Peter back by Tony’s side, their hands tangled together once again. “You’re such a dick for using Ben, Pete – but you’re also right. And no matter what I say, you’re going to do what you want. I’m not stupid enough to lose either of you because I’m trying to be a responsible adult,” May stopped then, shaking her head and filling the space between them with silent steps. She embraced them both, one arm around Peter and the other around Tony – both her babies now. “I love you – both of you. Even if you are a couple of idiots.”

Tony’s parents weren’t as kind and made their opinion about it pretty clear. Peter stood next to Tony while Howard berated him about bad decisions and getting ahead in life – his heart broke with every word, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from busting open. “Why do you care now? I’ve known Tony my whole life and you’ve never been this interested in what he does. I spent almost every day with him last summer and you didn’t call once. It seems like it’s a little late to have such a strong opinion about his behavior now, Mr. Stark.”

Everyone in the room looked at him for a couple of minutes – the silence sitting heavily in the already toxic air around them. Tony broke the trance and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders, his lips pressing against the side of his head. “I fucking love you,” Tony murmured. He pulled away and grabbed Peter’s hand, the clank of his boots heavy on the floor as he started to walk out of the room. Neither of his parents said anything or tried to stop him – so they walked down the stairs and left.

There wasn’t anything holding them back now.

----

They decided to be understated about it. Tony used a hefty portion of the funds he miraculously did not get cut off from to buy plane tickets to Hawaii. With May in tow, Tony and Peter got married on the beach in Maui – the sunset in front of them and flower crowns made with the local flora in their hair. The man that officiated the ceremony was a native on the island and took them around to all the best spots in celebration – it was absolutely gorgeous to see the beautiful place from such an insider perspective. Their hired photographer took pictures of them on the beach right as the sun was setting. The whole day absolutely magical, despite the fact that it was just the two of them for most of it.

May stayed in Maui when Peter and Tony left to spend their last week before heading to Stanford together in Honolulu. Their penthouse suite was bigger than his entire childhood home and had the most amazing view of the beach from the balcony at the back of the room. They spent their wedding night getting tipsy with May, so it would be the first night they spent together as husbands – and Peter was a little nervous.

For whatever reason, it felt like a totally new thing, being intimate with Tony now. They were the same people – still Peter and Tony, the young idiots in love. And yet, his heart pounded hard against his chest when Tony wrapped his arms around his hips from behind, his husband’s face settling over Peter’s shoulder. “I can hear you thinking all the way across the room. What’s on your mind, husband?” Tony questioned softly, the movement of his jaw a nice weight against him.

“It’s nice to be able to call each other that, isn’t it? Husband.” Peter reached up and placed his hands on Tony’s, his body relaxing back into him.

Tony moved a bit, giving the side of his neck a kiss. “Yeah, it is.” He pressed another kiss against Peter’s skin, and then another – his lips roaming across all the bare pieces of his neck and shoulder that he could find. “You’re the one, you know? I’m glad I finally get to have the world know that now, too.”

Turning in Tony’s arms, Peter wrapped his own around the other’s neck, their chest’s flush together. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the gentle beat of Tony’s heart against him – the rhythm of it steady. “Your possessive nature is kind of my favorite. I’m yours, Tony. Forever and ever.” Peter whispered the words, his nose brushing back and forth against Tony’s. “I love you, husband.” He finished off the sentiment with a kiss, his lips slipping across the other’s until he opened up to him, their tongues tangling.

It didn’t take much to stumble their way inside and land on the large bed in the middle of the master bedroom. The hotel chose a high thread count sheet set, Peter sighing when he relaxed against them. Tony really did go all out. Thoughts were soon replaced by nothing but feeling, Tony’s lips devouring his for minutes at a time, his husband only pulling back enough to catch a quick breath, then driving back in.

Tony took his clothes off one by one. He started with Peter’s short sleeve button down. He’d been growing some facial hair, and it tickled when he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of Peter’s chest. With only three buttons undone, Tony got sidetracked – his mouth finding first the right nipple, tongue and teeth toying with the nub until it was hard and air sensitive. Only then did he switch, the man taking his time to get his desired result out of that one, too.

Nimble fingers finished the job, the tips of them caressing the lower part of Peter’s stomach and ever so slightly under the waistband of shorts and boxer briefs. He didn’t waste any time at all, either – he pulled the button of Peter’s pants out of the loop and tugged the offensive garment down. That beautiful mouth attached itself to the bulge in Peter’s underwear, the warm air making him toss his head back – his traitorous hips thrusting up off the mattress to get more friction.

Peter slid his fingers into Tony’s hair when he pulled the waistband of his underwear down just enough to let his tongue run over the very tip of an already leaky cock. He couldn’t control the babbles that were coming out of his mouth, most of them not even words – just breathless pants and choked off syllables. Tony worshiped at the alter and took his time slipping his boxer briefs completely off, tracing the length of his cock with eager fingers and tongue, then finally closing his mouth around him completely.

The tight grip at the base of his shaft kept him on the edge of his seat for what felt like forever. Both of Tony’s hands were on him, one hand gripping tight, the other moving with his mouth on the downward stroke – it felt like a fire being stoked from the outside in. “Tony, you’re killing me – I’m so close,” Peter mumbled, his hips thrusting up uselessly into the tight grip of his husband’s hand. Brown eyes completely taken by a lust-addled pupil looked up at him, a glow there.

“Cum, then,” Tony challenged, his lips barely coming off of Peter’s cock to get the words out – he felt the hum of every single one.

He wasn’t one to not listen to directions, so he did just that – Peter’s fingers tightened in Tony’s hair, the strands bunched up between them. “Oh, fuck – “

It took him a second to come back around, his eyes blinking the black dots from them to get a better look at the man between his legs. Tony was still laving his sensitive erection with his tongue, his eyes closed, a look of complete contentment on his face. He watched him long enough to feel the heat bubble in his gut – arousal coursing through him once again.

“Mm – back already. How do you want me?” Tony asked, looking up to catch Peter’s eye. He reached down to tug Tony up, his weight settling on top of him once again. He pressed up and gave his husband a kiss, the taste of himself still fresh on Tony’s tongue. The way the essence of who they were tangled together never ceased to drive him crazy – the underlying taste of Tony below the bitterness so intoxicating.

With Tony over him again, Peter could feel his hardness pressing into his hip – the tip wet, small dribbles of precum dripping from it as they kissed and thrust against each other. Breaking away, he let his fingertips brush Tony’s cheeks, a small smile on his face. “How about you sit back and relax for a minute – I’ll show you exactly what I want.” Peter laid another kiss on his lips before using his hands to push at Tony’s chest, his husband moving without much prodding.

“Sit back against the headboard,” Peter instructed, both of them adjusting until Tony was propped up against the back of the bed, creamy thighs straddling him. With eager hands, Peter reached over to the bedside table, his boy scout of a husband leaving the essentials there when they first got in. “Always prepared,” Peter said with a giggle, the lube bottle swinging between them. Uncapping it, Peter poured a generous amount on his fingers and let it warm up – the slickness something he couldn’t wait to feel.

Sitting up a little, he widened his legs across Tony’s lap, his finger finding his own entrance and pushing in. it still took a little while to get used to, the feeling fingers inside of himself, but Tony’s hands running up and down his thighs helped, his entire being relaxing. “You look good like this, Pete. Your eyes are glazed over and your skin is flushed. The running gives you these amazing thighs – and watching you put your own fingers inside yourself… I want to be those fingers, Pete. I can’t wait to be inside of you,” Tony babbled as he watched and caressed, his eyes glued to Peter’s.

He threw his head back, all of his nerve endings on fire – the delightful tug-o-war between the naughty words coming out of Tony’s mouth and the stretch of his own fingers. It was hard to break away from the intensity of his husband’s gaze, but he needed more – he swiftly replaced one finger with two, a groan slipping from his lips from the delightful burn. “I can’t wait either, baby. I can’t – I need you.” He was groaning, the words dripping from his lips without much of a run through his brain to mouth filter.

Neediness in mind, Peter rushed through the rest of the prep – the tease of it doing its job – Tony was mindlessly thrusting up against him and his own body was humming with want and heat; all of it so very delicious.

Peter uncapped the lube again and poured a generous amount directly onto Tony’s cock, his husband opening his eyes wide – “Fuck, Pete,” he shouted, neither of them all that worried about the noise level. He gripped Tony tightly and spread the slick down his cock, his length glistening when he pulled away. “Please, baby – “ Tony mumbled, his hands gripping Peter’s hips tightly as he settled over him.

There wasn’t much finesse to the way Peter simply sat back and took Tony’s length in – he felt the biting burn of stretching muscles and the tight grip of his husband’s fingers, but not much else. His legs were spread wide, his hips merely rolling to keep the entirety of Tony in him, the tip of his dick sitting just barely against his prostate. With the small thrusts up Tony couldn’t hold back, Peter’s innermost pleasure spot was constantly getting serviced, the divine ache of It out of this world.

It didn’t take much time for Tony to start to lose control – “Move, please – more… I need more.” Tony wasn’t much of a talker when they got to this portion of the evening, he showed his pleasure and appreciation through the touches, each caress saying something different, portraying his feelings in that instant. It sent a jolt to his core and spurred him up onto his feet, his arms holding onto Tony’s shoulders for dear life.

Tony’s hands moved to grip an ass cheek in each one, his hold helping Peter lift up a little more. He moved rapidly, then – his control swiftly shot, the shift in position pressing Tony in a little deeper. The only sounds in the room were the slap of skin on skin and harsh breaths – Peter whimpering every few thrusts down against the tip of Tony’s cock; his insides burning, the heat eating him up cell by cell.

When Tony started to lift his hips to meet his thrusts, Peter saw stars – his orgasm rushing over him without warning. “Tony, oh god – “ his cock emptied between them, each splash of cum coating Tony’s still flexing abs.

The rhythmic clenching of his hole must have been too much – Tony came undone beneath him only seconds later. He gripped Peter so hard he could already feel the bruises starting to form there. The delightful wetness within him made him clench again, the move drawing a long groan from his husband’s lips.

“You’re going to kill me one day,” he mumbled, his hands brushing up the length of Peter’s back as he leaned against him. “But what a way to go.” Peter shut him up with a kiss, their shared laugh almost as amazing as the love they just made.

The rest of the week was spent much the same – Peter and Tony tangled up together. They walked along the beach and spent time exploring each of the islands – one of the days, they met May for lunch and talked about all of the cute island guys that she’d been gathering up the courage to talk to. It was pretty perfect – a good way to relax and enjoy the last couple of days of freedom before the fun started.

Tony didn’t let him leave the bed all of the last day. They bought movies on demand and ate really expensive room service. After the burn he got the day before, Peter was grateful to spend the day in the air conditioning, his body worshipped by his very new and very beautiful husband.

----

They said goodbye to May at the airport and took a left when she went right. Peter was expected to check in for track workouts the very next day. It was hard to see her crying face take the corner – Peter wouldn’t get to go back to Virginia until winter break and when they did, it was only for a week. The indoor season would take up so much of his time, he wondered for a while if he’d be able to keep up with the aeronautical engineering program. There wasn’t any point in worrying, though – they hadn’t even gotten there yet.

After the 5-hour flight into Palo Alto, Tony got them a car that took them to their brand-new town house. It was the first time that Peter saw it, so he brushed off the tiredness and explored the two-story home – Tony must have spent a lot of time ordering furniture while Peter took care of their clothes and other belongings.

The entire house was set up – and their books for the semester were sitting on the dining room table. “I had Jarvis come ahead and set everything up for us. He wanted to buy us a wedding gift, but I thought a week in California for a little bit of interior decorating was a good trade-off,” Tony said, his hand caressing Peter’s cheek when they finally settled into the bar stools in the kitchen. “Do you like it?”

Peter moved quickly out of the seat, wrapping Tony in his arms before his husband could move or even think. “It’s perfect. There’s so much space, I won’t even know what to do with myself. I can’t believe this is ours,” Peter replied, a little bit of awe in his voice. It felt weird to be on his own for the first time, but also amazing – they were finally together, finally on their own, and completely free to start their life together.

Of course, it took a little bit of adjustment to get used to things. Tony didn’t do a lot of his own cleaning growing up and Peter washed the dishes for May every night – so it took more than a few discussions to come to a compromise that worked for them both. When Peter was unhappy, Tony listened to his complaints and tried his best. Peter tried to do the same for his husband and most of the time – it worked. The times that it didn’t, there was enough space for the two of them to separate and cool off. Fights were never major, though Tony sometimes tried to make them so.

It was funny – how different married life actually was to what he pictured in his head. There wasn’t much difference to their relationship. They laughed together often and explored the city – when Peter had track events, Tony went with him. People looked at them oddly when Peter introduced Tony as his husband – many of them telling them both that they would have never guessed they were gay, let alone married. Peter merely smiled and pulled Tony towards him; a soft kiss being pressed to the man’s cheek. “Yup, gay and happily married,” he always replied, a soft smile making the words as convincing as they were true.

Tony took a job in the physics lab during their second semester freshman year, his need to fill the time even more pressing now that Peter would be gone pretty frequently. It gave them a bit of separation and made coming back together a lot sweeter. Right before Peter left for his first ever college track meet, Tony took him to the plant nursery to pick out a couple of the foliage he’d been looking at. They initially wanted a pet but figured that a plant dying would be much less scarring than a dog or a cat.

They went home with a whole selection of house plants – a spider plant, a lucky bamboo, some ponytail palms, and a sword fern. They were perfect for the back part of the house where the morning sun peaked in. They would be successful parents one day and that journey started with the plants that they picked out with care. It was fun to argue about how to arrange them and when they ended up on the floor with nothing on but a little dirt from a tipped over pot, Peter figured they’d do an okay job keeping their little babies alive.

College track was a lot different than the high school circuit – the abundance of meets making it a little harder to recover and by default, Peter a little grumpier than usual. A Thursday after a long practice, Peter came home to an empty house. He’d been looking forward to pouncing on Tony, his need for comfort almost overwhelming to the point where he was a little pissed by his husband’s absence.

Pulling out his phone, he called Tony, his head tilting when he heard the man’s distinct ring up the stairs. A soft sigh left his lips when he saw Tony on the bed, fast asleep. All of the bad feelings slipped from him – his face pulling into a grin. The siren song of the love of his life looking so cute in bed pulled him in, too – Peter kicked off his shoes and wrapped himself around Tony, his eyes slipping closed within moments.

The smell of bacon woke him up a little while later. Glancing over at the clock, Peter saw that it’d only been a couple of hours. Grinning at the thought of overcooked pig, he climbed out of bed and hobbled down the stairs, his body still a little sleep addled.

The sight of Tony at the stove was heartwarming, he wasn’t the best cook – he never had to make a meal for himself before moving out here in his life; but he tried, and that was enough. The one thing Peter knew he could make was bacon, though – his stomach grumbled hungrily at the thought.

“Hey, husband,” Peter announced, his voice making Tony turn from the stove with a slight jump.

“Hey yourself. You’re looking good, Pete. That little bit of sleep did you good, baby.” Tony smiled at him warmly, the bright look in his eye never dulling, the intensity of it only seeming to glow more as the days passed. It felt good – to be loved like that. So selflessly, with so much of a person that was willing to give him absolutely everything.

Walking over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, Peter grabbed his hips, fingers squeezing. “Yeah, thanks – its been a hectic couple of weeks. Conference is coming up, so they’ve got their foot on the gas with training. Speaking of – I can get you a pass, if you want to come.”

Tony flipped the burner off and went about putting things on plates, his husband turning with his hands full to nod enthusiastically at him. “You know I want to come, Pete. I haven’t missed one of your meets yet. It was kind of fun to go to Idaho a couple of weeks ago – I’d never been before.” He set a plate in front of Peter, a glass of orange juice following it a couple of moments later. “I’m going to get your distance coach to like me one of these days.”

Peter ate with one hand, the other playing with the fingers tangled with his own. Tony talked a bit about his day in the lab and told him about the copy of notes he made for Peter that was sitting on his desk in the study. He simply let him talk, Peter luxuriating in the clarity of being with Tony. It didn’t matter if he had a shitty day or that he was tired all the time – having Tony to come home to was nice – better than nice.

A couple of weeks later, Peter was getting ready for a race when one of his teammates came up to him, a question evident in his eyes. Letting out a breath, Peter turned his attention to him. “What’s up, Clint? I’m sure the rumor mill is churning up something good.” Peter said sarcastically, his arms still swinging in an attempt to keep himself warm.

“Why are you married? You’re talented, you’re hot – you could have anyone that you wanted. Instead you’re tied down. Why? Everyone wants to know why.” Clint didn’t beat around the bush, the blush on his cheeks the only sign that he felt a little bit embarrassed by the question. Peter grinned, the question one he could easily answer.

“Because I love him. He loves me. We take care of each other. He’s my best friend. I wanted to be with him forever and so did he. There are lots of reasons.” Peter’s smile grew when he saw Tony coming his way, his husband carrying a Gatorade and a hot dog, the bottle being thrust his way the second he was close enough to Peter. “Because he buys me Gatorade without asking,” Peter added, his arm wrapping around Tony’s shoulder.

Twenty minutes later, when Peter was pulling up from his push through the last lap, he looked up to see a group of his teammates sitting with Tony, all of them clapping and cheering with him – his husband hopping around like a madman. When they caught eyes, Tony stopped, his fingers coming to his lips to blow him a kiss. He mouthed ‘I love you’ at him – Peter’s heart stopping a bit at the softness of his cheeks and the look of pure affection on his face.

Peter ran to the edge of the track and grabbed the edges of the fence, a huge smile on his face. “I love you too, Tony Stark.”

Opening up the text from Clint a couple hours later, Peter couldn’t help but laugh. Tony looked over his shoulder to see a picture of Peter clinging to the fence, the shot of his side profile showing off the huge smile on his face. “Loving me looks good on you,” Tony whispered, his lips pressing against the shell of Peter’s ear.

“Yeah, it really does.”