#evil math and science classes

[thebluestbluewords]

happy holiday break, let’s talk class schedules

According to the Secrets of Auradon Prep tie-in book, AP runs on a rotating block schedule. Six periods per day, plus lunch. Pretty reasonable for a high school class schedule.

Homeroom once a week feels a little weird to me, but after an unofficial poll of some friends, it’s apparently not too uncommon for American high schools to only have it at the start of the week.

It’s sort of nice that the students get a study period every day, instead of having their free block/study block worked into the rotation with the rest of their classes.

In Mal’s Diary, we get another look at her schedule.

She’s in most of the same classes as the sample from before, but no chemistry class. Is Mal not interested in chemistry, or did Fairy Godmother decide it was more important for her to learn about evil fairies instead? Are there other “cultural history” type classes for other students, or did Fairy Godmother and whoever planned the class schedules for the other VKs just decide to pile on allll of the history/social studies classes for the VK to educate them in the ways of Auradon?

I think it’s funnier for me personally if Fairy Godmother received transcripts from Dragon Hall, looked at the VKs’ classes so far, and decided to say ‘fuck it’ on math and science classes, what these kids need is Auradon cultural education. Woodsmen, Fairies, Auradon History, and straight-up Goodness 101. One singular math class will take care of the rest, they’ll be fine.

[ghostedgrim]

Too Blunt?

Masterlist Request Page

Synopsis: After getting Dauntless on her aptitude test, a girl happily takes the opportunity to escape her suffocating life as the "perfect" daughter of a Candor lawyer and leader. (Snarky ex rich Candor girl x Four)

Warnings: Implied abuse, death, father speaks hurtful words to his daughter on visiting day.

Today is the most important day of my life, and to no one's suprise my parents demand I look my utter best, and of course, wear a dress. Personally, I think a dress is probably the worst thing to wear for what I have planned, but I guess I'll make do.

I grab a long bodycon dress. It's black, the fabric thin and breathable with a square neckline and a hem that reaches my mid shin, along with a slit trailing up to my mid thigh. Black because my parents will likely view me as dead after today, I'll be dead to them for my betrayal. Also I don't want anyone at my new faction to see my sweat. I pair my dress with black square-toe flats, then for the final touch pulled on a short white jacket with black accents.

I can not wait to leave.

Yes, the luxury of rich parents is nice, we have a penthouse, nice view, parties, but trust me, this grass is only spray painted green. My mother is a part of the Candor Council and my father a lawyer. They know how people work and what makes them tick. They know how to tell a truth with multiple meanings.

If asked what faction they hope I join, they reply, "I believe and hope she will choose the proper faction for her." Everyone thinks they're supportive of any future I take, but they're not. To them Candor is the perfect faction for me because Candor is perfection, Erudite is proper and still a good option because they work with math and science which goes perfectly hand in hand with truth, Amity and Abnegation are strange but a peaceful option, Dauntless... well, they hate Dauntless. To them, Dauntless are chaotic ruffians with hardly no law or education. This is somewhat true because many choose to ignore and even skip classes while young.

After breakfast, I meet my parents beside their car, it's sleek and white with a black trim. We exchange brief conversation, mom and dad prattle on about how Candor and Erudite are such perfect factions for me and how they believe I'll make the proper choice for myself and them. And I'm all too happy to leave the car once we arrive at The Hub. The tallest building in the city, and I'm quite thankful we arrived early because that means the elevators aren't as full. Unfortunately, that means I must also converse a bunch before the ceremony.

"Mother, I feel stressed about today, may I sit down instead of talking to everyone," I ask calmy.

"No, now go speak with Ms. Matthew and the other Erudites. If you're planning to transfer out of Candor, It's best you make a good relationship before joining them," my mother orders, her eyes feel like steel coiling around my throat, preventing me from giving any form of retort.

It feels like days have past, but really it was only an hour before Johanna makes her speech and began the ceremony. Johanna is the leader of Amity. With every name she calls, my heart seems to beat faster and faster as she gets closer to my name.

"... Verity." I stand and walk to the center stage. Each movement is controlled, perfect, exactly the way my parents want it to be. Candor is the perfect option, Erudite is the proper choice... I'm tired of it.

Just because you can only speak truth doesn't mean you can't manipulate. That's the issue with my faction, everyone here thinks their perfect and even pure simply because they don't lie. They're convinced that by eliminating lies they have eliminated evil.

But truth does not eliminate evil, a pacifist cannot do anything to stop evil when it steps on their door, being smart simply works as a gun for good and evil to wield. Brains, truth, pacifism, none of that eradicates evil, nor does it stop it from forming...

I cut my palm letting my blood sizzle onto the hot coals below.

But a good punch can certainly make it fuck off for a bit.

Thank God I wore this dress, otherwise I would've never been able to run and jump onto the train. The sound of the running train deafens the sound of people talking around me. It was so loud that I almost didn't hear the warning about us jumping off. I don't pay much attention to Dauntless. All my life, I've tried to avoid them and their chaos, but even I knew they don't wait for trains to stop before jumping.

"Where are we jumping!" I yell, but no one answered. I lean my head out the door and to my shock, "Are they trying to kill us!?"

I'm supposed to jump off a moving train onto a damn building! What the actual fuck?

"Scared princess?" I turn to see an Erudite boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, height wise, I can only reach his shoulder. He moves to stand behind me, "Need me to give you a push."

I promptly stomp my heel on the toe of his shoe and backed away from the door, "Hard pass prince charming." The boy glares at me before returning his attention to the door. When it comes time to jump, he turns around to flash me a smile. I smiled back, then ran forward as fast as I could and jumped off the train.

Time slowed, initiates seemed to float in the air beside me, all wearing colors of black, blue, and white, I made the mistake of looking down and my body filled with cold terror. What if I don't make it. The ledge is getting closer and closer, fuck. Did I jump too early?

SMACK!

I slip on the gravel as I land, I slide down hard onto the right side of my body, no doubt covering my right forearm and lower legs in scratches, my teeth smack together as my jaw rams into the ground. "Fuck..."

"Agreed," someone groans out beside me, and I turn to see the Erudite boy from earlier sprawled out on his back. Two screams burst out behind us, and I jump up and turn to see several people crowd around the ledge. "Don't look."

"Don't tell me what to do," I snapped at the boy and watched as an Amity boy was hauled onto the roof. I peer over the ledge, someone's hand grabs my wrist and hauls me back. Unfortunately, it was not fast enough to see the dead person who failed to make it onto the roof. I press my hands to my face, trying to calm my breathing. Someone hugs me from the side, their hand rubbing my shoulder.

"Alright listen up!" I pull away from the person, only giving a quick enough glance to see they're a Dauntless born. I then look to the person speaking. "I'm Eric, I am one of your leaders. If you want to enter Dauntless, this is the way in. He stands atop the roof ledge. He wears all black, vest, shirt, pants, two peircings above his left brow and one per ear, his hair cropped at the sides and slicked back. "And if you don't have the guts to jump... then you don't belong in Dauntless. Someone's gotta be first. Who's it gonna be." The man jumps down from the ledge, watching us with a critical eye.

"So what, we jump on a moving train, jump off a moving train onto a rooftop, and now you want us to jump off the roof?" I scoff, and cross my arms.

Eric smirks, "thanks for volunteering." He swings his arm out, inviting me forward and as much as I want to back down Eric's body language, especially his eyes, warn me that backing down like a coward is definitely not the safest of my options. So I mutter a curse under my breath and walk forward.

With shaking hands I climb onto the ledge. If there's one thing I know, the longer you wait the more the anxiety builds. So with my back to the small crowd, I cast them a glace over my shoulder before looking down at the gaping hole before me and jumped.

A scream tore through my lips as I plummeted. For a moment I thought I might die, that Eric would use me as an example of what not to do as a Dauntless initiate. I would be remembered as the dumb initiate that jumped because she was told too.

I pass through the lip of the hole and to my supries saw dim lights. I had barely any time to think on it before I slammed into a net and bounced several times. And once the bouncing stopped, I lay there, trying to gather my senses. My ears pick up joyus whoops and hollers, then hands appear. They wrap around my arms and drag me from the net. I find myself standing before a tall man, brown hair, brown eyes, a shadow of hair across his jaw, and defined facial features.

"You alright," his voice is deep, with a hint of a rumble, "Did you get pushed."

I scoffed, "No, I jumped. Somewhat unwillingly. Tell the Eric guy he's a dickbag for me."

"Straight to the point I see, then again you're from Candor. If I were you, I'd be more careful about the way you speak about your superiors," he warns, then lets go of my arm. "You got a name?"

"Obviously, I have a name, it's ... Verity." The man nods, announcing my name and that I'm the first jumper before telling me to stand by the wall. A few moments later the Erudite boy falls.

"Damien! Second jumper!" The man announces. More cheers and Damien jobs over to me with a blinding smile.

"Only fair the prince follows the princess so she isn't alone," Damien teases.

"So what prince are you? Brother, or wannabe lover?" I deadpan.

Damien clicks his tongue, "I'm gay so obviously, brotherly."

"If you ever try or even joke about pushing me off a moving train, I will kill you."

"That's fair," Damien shrugs.

We remain standing side-by-side as the remainder of initiates jump. About 23 total, 11 transfer, and 12 Dauntless born. The twelve Daniel born are taken away by a woman instructor whom I've already forgotten the name of, while the brown hair guy calls the rest of us over to him.

"My name is Four," he announces, and I stifle a chuckle that makes Damien roll his eyes, "Mind telling me what's so funny?"

"Of all the names a man could choose, and you name yourself Four. Are there people named One, Two, and Three running around that you call siblings?" I grin, and Damien mutters something under his breath.

Four stalks forward, the initiates around me back away giving him space, bringing his face close to mine he speaks, "If you plan to survive here, then keep your mouth shut. Don't make me warn you again." Four's voice came out like a deep rumble, and I couldn't tell if I was scared or really attracted to it.

When Four walks away, Damien elbows me in the side, "Ow."

"Do you have a death wish?" He half-whispers.

I shrug and turn my attention to Four as he gives us a tour of Dauntless, pointing out the chasm, hub, cafeteria, and the dorms. I grimace at the sight of the hideous concrete room, metal cots, communal bathroom, at least the showers and bathrooms had a private stall for each one. If I'm lucky, I can snag a stall to change in during morning and night.

Four notices my obvious look of disgus. "Too much for you, princess? I thought you enjoyed luxurious suites like this room?" He mocks, and I resist the urge to punch his gut.

"It's quite lovely actually," I bite back, "in fact, it quite matches your sparkling personality."

Four goes to retort but is interrupted by a boy Candor transfer, "When do you get our uniforms?"

"You don't," Four replies, "depending on your rank, and skill shown throughout training you will earn points that you can exchange for clothes, body modifications, makeup, and whatever the hell else you want to spend it on. Now go pick a bunk and come to the cafeteria for dinner," Four orders.

Watching Four go over various kicks, punches, blocks, and forms is starting to make me wish I went against my parents demands and wore pants. Earlier this morning Eric had informed us the lowest five preforming inmates get kicked. I had almost spoke up against that rule, but thought better of it knowing Eric was a leader, he could probably kick me out for just looking at him wrong. It's a stupid rule, especially because as far as I'm aware Dauntless doesn't have any overpopulation issues.

Four finally dismisses us to the punching bags, and my legs protest every step. He and Eric took us on a quarter mile run. I barely survived. Next week it'll be half a mile. I definitely won't survive that.

Once at my bag I move into a fighting stance, feet spread, from foot pointed at the bag, back foot planted on the ground perpendicular to the front foot. My hits are weak, my form certainly not the best. Right now I want nothing more than a hot shower and my b-

"With a form like that you won't survive the matches starting tomorrow," a low voice speaks behind me. I turn to see Four, his gaze critiquing my posture, his arms crossed.

"What's it to you?" I snap.

Four rolls his shoulders then reaches out to shrink my too-wide stance, bring my fist closer to my jaw. "There. Unless you want to get hit, keep your fists up so you can block your sides and head with your forearms. Also don't make your stance so wide, not only do you look stupid, it makes moving and kicking alot harder." Four pulls away and moves to stand beside me, "As for why I care. I'm your instructor, it's my job to prevent as much of you from failing as possible. Now hit the bag is if it's someone you hate."

"So pretend I'm hitting you. Got it," I quip. Four only offers a few critiques and tips before walking away. I try to focus, but honestly my mind seems more focused on what Four's hands on my hips and the feeling of him standing so close behind me that I could feel his breath practically caress my neck.

"Careful," and my knees nearly go weak from the way the word rolled off his tongue like a soft rumble.

Over the course of the month, I grew stronger, my stamina longer, my muscles more prominent too. While I was certainly not the most skilled at fighting, the wit of my tonge remained strong. I used the points I earned to buy myself more comfortable clothes; boots, pants, shirts, I even gave myself the tattoo of the Candor symbol, encased in flames. I was even contemplating getting peircings, but I couldn't tell if I wanted them out of a wish to rebel against the way I was raised or because I actually wanted one.

Tonight was the night before visiting day. Last week had marked the end of our first part of initiation, and I dread thinking of what will happen next week.

Damien was standing in front of his bunk, ranting about how he's excited to see his sister. I watch him from my perch in his bunk. Over the past month, he'd gone from scrawny to quite musclar. It was almost scary to think about the sheer change. Snakebite peircings and blonde hair now green, Damien was certainly embracing the punk side of Dauntless.

We've both grown quite a bit since the Choosing Ceremony, the same way my crush on Four has only worsened.

Training, walking around Dauntless, cafeteria, I often try to find Four somewhere in the crowd. Most times, he's already staring at me. I shiver.

"You alright."

I break from my thoughts to see Damien squatting down in front of me. "I'm fine," I have to force the lie out. I've gotten better at lying, but it's nearly impossible to do it to the people I'm close to.

Damien shakes his head, and moves to sit on his cot beside me. "You're an awful liar."

"Yeah! I'm well aware!" A few other initiates turn to us at my outburst. Perhaps my feelings for Four weren't my only concern. "What if my parents actually come tomorrow? I hate them, but I'm so scared to see that inevitable look of disappointment." I slump against Damien's should, and he wraps an arm around me.

"Faction before blood. Dauntless is your faction, Dauntless is your family, you are my sister, and I am proud of you. Your parents are merely the people that made you and raised you. Unfortunately, they chose to turn you into a miniature of them and force away the true you. Whatever happens, your true family is here, and I will punch your parents for you if you need."

"Thanks..." I reply, and Damien rests his chin on my head.

Silence settles around us, a comfortable one that helps me relax a bit. "I asked Aaron out," Damien suddenly blurts out.

I pull away, turning to face him, "Ex Candor Aaron!" But Damien shakes his head, his grin bright.

"Nope! The Dauntless born Aaron. Black hair, chiseled face."

My mouth drops open in suprise, "I thought he was homophonic?"

Damien's grin turns almost feral, "Was. But then he lost a bet, we kissed, he liked it," Damien's hands move dramatically to emphasize each word, "he wanted to experiment, and let's just say I preformed real good."

"Gross. There's no way you're telling the truth."

"I am," Damien lounges back against his pillow.

"In that case, I guess I'll need to get some tips from you about winning over my crush sometime."

Damien sits up faster than I can blink, "who is it?"

"Not telling," I sing, and Damien pouts. "See ya tomorrow." I wave and walk over to my cot.

A permanent frown is etched into my face as I watch families mingle down in the pit. I already spotted my parents looking for me earlier, but I made no move to join them.

Someone walks up beside me but I say nothing.

"Wow. No snarky comment, sneer, or anything. Are you okay?" I'm surprised to hear Four sounds actually sincere.

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not. You can talk to me about it," Four offers.

"As if you know anything about shitty parents," I sneer.

Four's gaze darkend, locking his jaw and I realize I hit a nerve, fuck. "Trust me, I do know." Four then quickly walks off.

Eventually, Damien hunts me down and drags me from my beloved hiding spot to meet his sister, but we get intercepted.

"I see you've enjoyed it here," I tense and turn to face my father, who is flanked by my mother. "Your friend is... interesting."

I cross my arms and glare at them. "I'm surprised you came."

"Yes, well," my mother starts, "while you may have joined a faction far beneath us, I must admit I was curious to see just how much you let yourself go. And it seems you've lost all sense of acting a proper lady." All sense of confidence seeps from my body as my mother scolds my appearance with her eyes.

Damien finally speaks up, "How dare you speak to her that way!"

My mother shrugs, "I'm simply speaking the truth. Tell your boyfriend to cool it."

"I have a boyfriend," Damien growls.

A look of utter disgust appears on my father's face, and before I can speak, he drags me away. I tried to grab onto Damien, but we'd already lost him in the crowd.

"Had I known you've fallen so far, I would've ordered someone to make you Factionless," my father snarls.

"What's so wrong about -"

"Do not interrupt me," just by an order from my father, I go stiff and silent. Just how I was before leaving Candor. Docile, pretty, soft.

"First, you betray us by joining Dauntless off all factions. I might've forgiven you if it was Amity of Abnegation, but you join Dauntless. Now you've cut your hair all short," I touch my hair, I had forgotten I cut it after too many initiates kept pulling it during sparring matches. "Look at your clothes, they're hideous, and with that cropped tank top, you look like a sl-"

"That's enough," someone growls beside me. My gaze snaps to Four as he pulls me closer to him. "Get out before I remove you both by force." My father goes to argue, but Four punches him in the face before he can finish.

I remain silent and unwilling to fight back as Four guides me through the halls, and he doesn't stop until he's confident we're alone.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Four asks while leaning against the rock wall. The dim blue light around us highlights his features.

"I don't know," my voice it quiet.

Four stares at me, as if taking in my every detail, every move, and emotion, like I'm a book. "Why did you join Dauntless?"

My heart sinks. He probably thinks I'm unworthy or something. "To escape my parents."

Four merely cocks his head, "If your sole goal was to escape you would've ran to Amity. Why did you come here?"

"Why do you care?" I snap.

Four sits on the ground and pats the space beside him. Despite myself, I sit.

"You don't have to talk about it. But understand I get it. Having a parent raising you to be impossibly perfect, who cares about their public image. That hate for yourself because you don't feel good enough even after you leave, still being afraid of them after you escape. Trust me, I get it. And if you bottle it, it will just consume you."

A gasp almost escapes me, he's Marcus's son. "Why are you telling me this?"

"When we met, I thought you were going to be some bratty rich girl, you wouldn't last. You're still a bit of a brat," he chuckles, "but you're also a fighter. Strong, unwilling to bend or break, and the fucking way you smile. I must admit I'm jealous, but more than that I confess I want nothing more than to kiss you."

"You like me?"

"Alot more than I'm willing to admit."

"I came to Dauntless because I'm tired of feeling weak and unable to fight back." Four looks at me intently. "All my life it was dresses, being told how to act, stand, sit, talk. I felt like a doll, and if I made one error I would get yelled at and locked in my room for a week at the least. It was suffocating and I always felt so utterly powerless. Here at Dauntless I'm strong, I'm free, I can actually fight." I look down at my hands, and Four rests one of his atop mine, and I squeeze it.

"You said you wanted to kiss me."

"Badly," he added.

"Then kiss me."

One minute Four is looking at me like I grew two heads, and the next his lips are upon mine. My hands find purchase on his shoulders, both his hands cup my face. He kisses me like he's starved. His lips are soft, and warm and I practically melt into the kiss.

We pull away for a moment, then slowly we kiss again. "Please be mine," Four mumbles against my lips.

"I am yours," I mutter back as we kiss again. Eventually, we settle, simply sitting in the empty hall, me in Four's arms, his head on my chin.

"I knew it!"

"Fuck!" My head slams against Four's jaw as I jolt making Four groan in pain.

"Man I fucking knew it! Maria owes me $20," Damien cackles, so I chuck my shoe at him and grace him my middle finger.

Author's note: I'm sorry it took so long, my dad was in the hospital for colon cancer, and his girlfriend got offended that my mom knew of the situation which was a hole issue. Fortunately things have calmed down, my dad's surgery was successful, and he's doing chemo to ensure it doesn't come back.

I hope you enjoyed the fic. Please share feedback, I happily accept constructive criticism.

[mothtarts]

can someone write a hilson teacher-au or am i going to have too? CAN SOMEONE WRITE A HILSON TEACHER AU OR AM I GOING TO HA-

anyways i have a rough idea for what they would teach. i was like “oh should i make them science teachers?” but that felt boring and i think this fits their vibes and personalities more (this is also very american so im sorry)

*house - ap world history /ap gov (he’s the teacher ppl say is evil and insane but you will learn the most from and pass the ap exam)

*wilson - ap language/ asb/ coach for varsity basketball ( he always has his class open and it’s full of gay kids and the athletes failing their subjects)

*cuddy- principle (duh) (she always goofs off during assemblies and will call out kids in front of the whole school for talking)

*chase - art teacher/ soccer coach (he was a sub at first but after the old teacher retired he stayed. hes the teacher that is supervising TO many clubs)

*foreman - all the super hard math classes (he always lets kids retake his tests and if your a senior lets you skip out on class)

*cameron - chemistry/ yearbook (all the kids love her and go to her class to vent about their family and relationship life) (she’s in charge of gsa)

*thirteen- psychology/ Econ/basketball coach (she is often spotted in the faculty parking lot taking a nap in her car. students are terrified of her but she’s rlly attuned with youth culture and gets them to warm up to her)

*kutner- councilor( deadass think he would be so good at being a councilor. he has favorite students and gives them good schedules)

*amber- english/ journalism/volleyball coach (she usually hangs out in the halls and yells at kids for doing pda has the BEST tutoring labs ever you will pass her class.)

*taub- on campus sub- (ppl audibly groan when they see him subbing their class)

pls pls lemme know if yall have any good ideas for this possible au im like fully gonna write it

[fangirl-writes]

Doppelgänger

Benny Weir x Fem!Reader

MBAV Masterlist

Warning(s): near-death, canon-level violence

Request: can be found here.

Notes: This is a mix of multiple things that we’ve seen in MBAV episodes while also stealing a little bit of plot from the Vampire Diaries. Hope you like it! 

PS: I kinda want to make this into a full fledged fic because I had so many ideas that were hard to package into a one-shot but we’ll see if I ever actually do that.

Summary: A doppelganger traps you in a mirror dimension and slowly sucks the life out of you so it can take your place. Will Benny and friends save you in time? (yes obviously, but the suspense)

You stare across the room, into the only window in the otherwise dark room, the yellow glow of it staring back at you.

It was a tragic way to die, in a place without light, where your loved ones would never find you. All the while a cheap copy of you wandered freely, fooling your friends and your Benny.

Benny. Would you ever get to see him again?

Perhaps you’d get lucky and he would peer into the mirror so his eyes would be the last thing you saw before the life finished draining from you.

He’d probably feel so guilty, think it was all his fault. 

But it wasn’t.

If there was anyone to blame, it was the vampire who seemed a regular bane to the existence of White Chapel and its inhabitants.

Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

In the school’s theater, in a dressing room we’ve seen before, lies a cracked mirror that once held the spirit of Olivia Frye. And while her spirit no longer posses it, that doesn’t mean the magic of the mirror is gone.

The vanity lights flicker on in the otherwise dark room, illuminating the pale face and blue eyes of Jesse Black.

Reaching into his pocket, Jesse pulls out Benny’s spellbook.

He opens it on a marked page, running his fingers across the paper before reading aloud: “Zacaroth Maznacaroth. Dimitte hunc spiritum e carcere, ut iterum vivant.”

As he reads, the mirror begins to repair itself, the cracks sealing up. But as they are doing so, a mist also starts to leak from the glass.

A grin spreads across Jesse’s lips and he chuckles darkly. “Welcome back, my dear.”

Before him stands the ghostly figure of who appears to be you, but she’s faded, missing the color in her body that signifies life. Except for her eyes that shine the same unnatural blue as Jesse’s.

The following morning, you, Ethan, and Benny are walking down the hallway of White Chapel High as Benny searches in vain for his spellbook.

“Are you sure you didn’t accidentally make it vanish again?” Ethan asks.

“No, it was in here last night I swear,” Benny says before groaning and angrily throwing his bag closed. “The one day I wanted to make Ms. Fine forget about our essays and the thing disappears! It’s like it knows when I’m using it for evil. You think my grandma put a spell on it?”

“If she was gonna do that, she’d have done it long before now,” Ethan replies.

“You know, if you started memorizing your spells like you talk about, this wouldn’t be a problem,” You say.

“And if you had agreed to strip studying I would have tried,”

“Okay, gross,” Ethan says, pulling a face.

“Y/N.”

You perk your head up, looking around the hallway for whoever said your name, finding no one in a sea of faces.

“Y/N.”

You turn around, following the voice but still seeing no one.

“Hey.”

You jump as Benny’s hand touches your shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

You let out a breath and smile at him. “Yeah, I just thought I heard someone call my name. It’s probably nothing.”

Benny nods and pulls you closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as you continue your trail to your lockers.

The voices persisted as the day went on, bothering you in class and at lunch, making you feel scared and crazy. Not to mention incredibly distracted.

It made it hard to focus on math or science and especially English where you were meant to be reading Shakespeare and reviewing essays.

“Ms. L/N.”

Ms. Fine startles you out of your stupor and you hurriedly hand her your rough draft, printed and stapled together.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asks and you make a quick decision.

“Actually, I’m feeling a little sick. Can I be excused for the nurses office?”

“Sure. But hurry back.”

You nod and gather your things, exchanging a glance with Benny and Ethan each before leaving.

You really did plan to go to the nurses office until you could talk to your friends, but that damn voice started bothering you again. And in an otherwise empty hallway, it was hard to ignore.

“Y/N.”

“Oh, I’m gonna regret this,” you mumble before heading in the direction of the voice.

You follow it all the way to the theater, which is dark except for the light coming from one of the dressing rooms.

“Please don’t be a ghost,” you whisper to yourself. “Or a vampire, werewolf, ghoul, zombie, whatever. Let me be having a psychotic break because of stress and this voice isn’t real.”

You cautiously peak into the room...and find nothing.

The room is empty except for the vanity and chair. And the voice has gone quiet.

Shaking your head, you walk into the room and sit down in the chair. “Maybe I am going crazy.”

Your a little startled by your reflection, which is pale even under the warm lighting.

“...or maybe I’m actually sick.”

You press a hand to your face, checking for a temperature, watching as your reflection does the same.

Letting your hand drop, you observe the mirror more closely, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Wait a minute, wasn’t this mirror-”

You let out a scream as your reflection surges forward and pulls you into the mirror before jumping out in your place.

You collapse on a cold floor, hurriedly standing back up and rushing toward the mirror’s opening but your reflection holds out a hand, causing the mirror to seal back up and trap you inside.

“Sorry,” she says. “But I can’t have two of us running around to ruin my plans.”

You bang on the glass. “Hey! Stop! Let me out!”

But she’s already gone, leaving the room and shutting the door, enveloping you in darkness.

“Didn’t you see the look on her face?” Benny asks. “Something’s wrong.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Ethan replies. “It’s probably just a headache. You know how too much supernatural stuff gets to her sometimes.”

“Yeah, but this was different. She’s been hearing voices all day. I’m starting to worry this is something bad.”

Benny pushes open the door to the nurse’s office, expecting to find you laying there but instead the small bed was empty.

“Can I help you boys?” The nurse asks from her desk.

“Uh, sorry, but did Y/N L/N come in here earlier?”

“No, I haven’t seen her in here today.”

Benny feels a pit in his stomach. “Right, thank you.”

He closes the door and exchanges a look with Ethan. “She didn’t come back to class and she didn’t come here. So where is she?”

Ethan looks a little more worried now. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Rory says.

Not-you turns to look at him and Rory is taken aback.

“You okay? You’re paler than usual. Did you get bitten by a vampire? Attacked by an abominable snowman? Possessed by a ghost?”

Not-you smiles. “Oh, no, I’m actually an ancient doppelgänger who just looks like Y/N.”

Rory’s eye go wide. “Woah, really? That’s so cool. But...why’re you telling me?”

Not-you pats him on the head. “Cause you’re not smart enough to try and stop me.”

“Oh. Yeah that’s fair. Where’re you off to anyway?”

Not-you hums. “I’m smart enough not to tell you that.”

“Oh, great,” you mumble, watching as your battery drops another percentage, but the bars never move from zero.

How are you supposed to call for help?

It’s chilling, sitting in the dark with nothing but your phone for light. Your eyes can’t even adjust to the darkness because there’s nothing to see; you’re in a void.

A headache is slowly making itself known and you can’t be sure if its from staring at your phone screen or because a doppelgänger trapped you in a mirror.

The supernatural always has a way of giving you a headache. Doesn’t matter what it is.

Ethan can hardly touch you because if he has a vision, you’ll have a migraine for the rest of the week. If Erica, Sarah, or Rory use their superspeed around you, you’ll nearly faint.

Benny’s the only one who can use his powers and not effect you. You aren’t sure why.

He likes to joke that it’s because your soulmates. 

“I don’t know, E, I just have a bad feeling about this,” Benny says. “Sarah! Have you seen Y/N?”

Sarah, who was just putting her bag on her shoulder at her locker, turns to the boys. “No, is she missing?”

“Yeah we haven’t seen her since English and Benny’s freaking out,” Ethan replies.

“Aw, does Benny miss his girlfriend?”

“No, I mean yes, but that’s not what I’m worried about. She’s been hearing voices all day, what if something spooky got her?”

Sarah smiled. “Benny, if something spooky was happening we would surely know by now. Ethan would’ve had a vision or Rory would pop in with some information he doesn’t realize is important.”

As if on cue, Rory appears. “Heard my name!”

“Perfect,” Benny says. “Okay, Rory, give us some of that sweet sweet information. Have you seen Y/N?”

Rory’s eyebrows furrow. “Well, yeah, but she said it wasn’t really her. She said she was an ancient doppelgänger who just looks like Y/N.”

Benny gestures wildly. “You guys concerned now?!”

“Okay, yeah, maybe,” Ethan replies. “Did she say what she was doing or where she was going?”

Rory shakes his head. “No, she said she was too smart to tell me.”

“Curses,” Benny says. “They’re starting to figure out our tricks. Come on, I need to find my spellbook to track her.”

Ethan, Benny, and Sarah hurry off, leaving Rory behind. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, miffed that they disregarded him. 

“Ah, nice to see you in the flesh again,” Jesse says, tossing some popcorn in his mouth.

“I see you’re still fond of the theater where your plans were ruined,” Not-you replies, eyeing the room.

“I’m a sentimental guy,” he says. “And with you, my plans can’t be ruined again.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. My doppelgänger might be a mortal but she has the same power I do, under the surface.”

“Don’t tell me your afraid?”

“Not afraid. Just cautious,” Not-you says. “Arrogance is what got you defeated the first time. I won’t make the same mistake of underestimating them.”

Jesse stands up and walks over to Not-you, grabbing her arm. “Starting to get some flesh back, I see.”

“Swapping places with Y/N has helped immensely. Give it a few more hours and I’ll be back to full strength.”

“And Y/N?”

“Collateral damage.”

Jesse smiles. “Then we don’t need to underestimate them. We can destroy them.”

Meanwhile, Benny, Ethan, and Sarah are tearing apart Benny’s room, trying to find his spellbook.

“Goodness me, what’s going on in here?”

“Grandma!” Benny exclaims, popping out from under his bed. “Have you seen my spellbook?”

“No. Don’t tell me you’ve lost it, Benny, you know how dangerous that is,” she replies.

“I know, I know, but lecture me later, we have to find Y/N.”

“Y/N is missing?”

“Yeah,” Sarah says. “She was switched with a doppelgänger.”

Evelyn purses her lips. “Circe.”

“Who?” Ethan asks. 

“Circe,” Evelyn repeats. “She’s an old witch who caused quite the ruckus in White Chapel. Reverend Black tried to have her burnt at the stake but considering that he turned out to be a vampire I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s resurrected her somehow.”

Benny gasps. “With my spellbook!”

“Follow me,” Evelyn says, leading the group of them to her basement where she digs through a box for a leather bound book.

“Ah!” She says. “Here it is.”

She flips it open, going through the pages before stopping on one. “Here she is.”

“Woah,” Ethan says. “She really does look like Y/N.”

“Doppelgängers were created by nature after ancient beings defied their laws by creating immortality. Circe must’ve tried to make herself immortal, causing the doppel curse,” Evelyn explains.

You’re starting to feel horrible. Your body getting heavier and heavier, a weight on your chest growing. 

It wasn’t like the usual anxiety or claustrophobia you’ve experienced before. No, this felt like your soul was slowly being sucked from your body.

Is this it? you think. Is this really how I’m going to go out?

You raise your phone, the bars still empty and the battery too low for comfort.

“God,” you mumble.

Jesse pulls the Cubile Animus from his pocket. “This is what we’ll use to capture the souls.”

Circe raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that thing going to be able to hold all the supernatural souls? They’re more powerful than human souls.”

“Well, if you happen to have another soul-holder laying around, you just let me know,” Jesse says, scowling at her.

“I’m just saying, maybe you should’ve done some research before you set this plan into motion.”

“It’s going to work.” Jesse snaps, getting into Circe’s face. 

“All right, if you say so,” she replies, lifting a magical hand, glowing gold, and pressing it against the box.

You gasp, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline and your eyes flicker a gold that makes its way down your face, arms, and into your phone, causing it to call Benny.

“If Circe has taken Y/N’s place you need to find her fast. The longer Circe stays in her place, the more of Y/N’s lifeforce she takes,” Evelyn says. “She could die.”

As if on cue, Benny’s phone rings. 

He scrambles to check it, Y/N’s name glowing on the screen. “Oh my god.”

He answers it. “Y/N? Where are you, baby?”

“Benny...” your voice is faint and quiet. “...mirror...”

“Mirror? I don’t know what that means, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

The urgency in his voice is obvious and you’re trying your best.

“At- at school...the mirror...”

“A mirror at school? The mirror at school?”

“Olivia Frye’s mirror!” Ethan says with a snap of his fingers. “In the theater.”

“Y/N, babe, is that right? You’re in Olivia’s mirror?”

“..yes.”

“Great, let’s go,” Sarah says.

“Be careful!” Evelyn replies as they go.

“Y/N, stay on the phone with me, okay?”

You groan. “Benny, I’m so tired...”

They throw themselves into Grandma’s car, Sarah driving.

"No, no, baby girl, stay awake for me,” Benny pleads, hearing your breathing become labored.

“Benny...” you whisper out one last time before the phone goes dead.

“Y/N? Y/N! Y/N, baby, please- god dang it!” Benny throws his phone down.

“It’s okay, Benny, we’ll find her,” Ethan says. “She’s gonna be fine.”

“I hope so, E, I really hope so.”

"Do it now,” Jesse demands.

Circe’s eyes glow gold and she whispers an incantation.

Meanwhile, Erica and Rory are out looking for a midnight snack. 

“Are you sure we should be out here?” Rory asks. “Sarah said there’s a powerful witch out here somewhere. And that she’s working with Jesse.”

“What’s Jesse got against us?” Erica replies. “If anything he should be thanking us for being his only turns that survived. Natural selection in my opinion.”

Suddenly, her body goes rigid and a glowing, white mist flows out of her mouth and shoots off. Her body collapses to the ground.

“Erica?” Rory asks, nervously, leaning down next to her.

Erica’s soul finds its way into the Cubile Animus and Jesse smiles.

Rory’s body follows ensuite of Erica’s, going still and his soul being taken from his body.

And now we’re caught up. You’re dying in unimaginable darkness, weeping. Wishing with all your might that they find you. That you’ll see your friends and Benny again.

Luckily for you, they burst through the door.

Ethan, Benny, and Sarah are to the mirror in no time, Benny’s hand pressing against the glass.

“Y/N! Come take my hand, please!”

“I-I can’t,” you cry, tears rolling down your cheeks as you look at him, his eyes worried, scared even.

“Yes, you can!” He replies. “I won’t let you die! You’re so close, Y/N, just come take my hand.”

It’s hard, and it hurts, but you move.

You crawl, sobbing, towards him.

Benny’s own tears are threatening to spill over as he listens to you crying. 

“Please,” he whispers. “Please, I love you.”

You reach up. And take his hand.

Feeling your grip, Benny pulls.

Your body comes tumbling out of the mirror and into Benny, who immediately hold you close, whispering “oh my god” over and over.

You’re shaking, still crying. You’re thin, pale, and weak.

“Y/N,” Sarah says softly. “Do you know where the doppelganger is?”

You close your eyes, focusing. “The theater,” you whisper. “They’re at the theater.”

More souls are being sucked into the box: Kurt Lockner’s, David Stachowski’s, all the vampire nurses.

Evelyn, knowing - or rather feeling -  what’s happening, sits in her rocking chair and mumbles a counter spell that will keep her soul inside her body.

Circe growls. “Let go, Evelyn. I’ll get your soul if it kills you.”

“Not a chance.” Evelyn replies.

Sarah hits the breaks hard, putting the car in park and jumping out of the car, Ethan following closely.

“Y/N, stay here, okay?” Benny instructs.

You nod, closing your eyes and lying down.

“Hey!” Sarah kicks open the door to the theater. “Having a party without me?”

“Sarah!” Jesse says. “Glad you can join us. Just in time for Circe to take your soul.”

“Oh yeah? Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” Circe replies, turning to Sarah with glowing gold eyes.

It strikes her then how nearly exactly she looks to you.

“So your the witch who’s stealing my girlfriend’s soul!” Benny shouts.

Circe smiles. “I’m a much better model, don’t you think?”

“Not a chance, honey.”

“Jesse, I’m busy. Take care of them, won’t you?” Circe says. “Your grandmother can’t hold on forever, Benny.”

“What?” Benny cries, becoming angry. He shouts a spell, hurling it in Circe’s direction, who waves it off easily. 

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Come on, Sarah,” Jesse says. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we? What makes you think you’ll win this time?”

“This!” Ethan yells, shooting Jesse in the face with holy water.

Jesse screams.

“Literally never go anywhere without this. We’re smarter this time, don’t you know?”

“I don’t think you nerds have the capacity,” Jesse says, wiping the burning liquid off his face with his sleeve.

Sarah attacks him and Ethan gasps, being overcome with a vision. It’s a vision of Benny’s grandma and Jane chanting the same words she used to defeat Jesse the first time.

When he comes back to, he shouts, “Benny! Your grandma’s spell! The first one!”

The pieces clicking in his head, Benny chants those same words and watches as a bolt of lighting appears and hits Circe in the chest. She cries out, dropping the box that Benny scoops up.

“Hey, Jesse,” Benny says.

Jesse stops, Sarah’s neck in his hand, and looks at Benny.

“This look familiar?”

He opens the box, releasing the souls inside.

Jesse screams, dropping Sarah and running off.

“You coward!” Circe yells. “Coward! AH!”

The souls attack Circe, slowly pulling Y/N’s soul out of her body.

Once it’s out, Circe drops to the ground and fades away in a fog.

Breathing heavily, the three left watch as Y/N’s soul shoots off, presumably back to Y/N’s body.

“We really need to destroy this thing,” Benny says, tossing the box in the air and catching it again.

Erica and Rory burst through the doors, fangs bared, ready for a fight.

“Aw, man, did we miss it again?” Rory asks.

“Yeah, sorry, Ror,” Ethan replies.

“Ugh. I’ve been waiting to tear Jesse a new one for like, ever,” Erica says.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get your chance,” Sarah says.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Benny says, shoving the box into Ethan’s hands and running out to the car, the others following.

You’re still sleeping, and breathing, thankfully. But your color isn’t back to normal, neither is your weight.

So, they take you to Evelyn.

“Her body isn’t used to magic,” she explains as Erica and Sarah set you gently onto Benny’s bed. “It’s going to take a while for her to naturally heal. But, if a few powerful magicians were to try to speed things along...”

“We can do that?” Benny asks, hopefully.

Evelyn grabs his shoulders. “We can try.”

They hold hands over your body, shutting their eyes and chanting “Extende in desiderium cordis mei; Sana hoc vulnus cum virtute ignis. Aufer aegritudinem et dolorem; Sanatio est quod offero.”

Your body glows, color coming back to you and your weight returning to its normal size, but you don’t wake up.

“Did it work?” Benny asks. “Why is she still asleep?”

“Even healing magic takes time,” Evelyn explains. “Give her a little bit.”

She pats him lightly and leaves the room, leaving Benny alone with you.

“God, I really thought I was going to lose you,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

The time stretches on as he waits for you to wake up and he eventually nods off.

Which is when you decide to wake up.

You smile as you see him lying next to you and lean over to kiss his cheek.

He shoots awake immediately, practically tackling you in a hug. “Thank god!”

You laugh. “Thanks for saving me.”

“Always,” he replies. “Always.”

[lavendercharm]

Linger, Chapter 2: Evil Woman

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: Strong Language

----

For as irate as she’d made you, you knew you owed credit where credit was due: Melissa was a phenomenal teacher. 

You’d watched her teach math after settling into your desk, masking her disdain toward you effortlessly as she started her lesson. Her passion and love for her work was undeniable. Even more, her kids seemed to adore her. Everyone has those teachers who stay with them as they grow up, and you had no doubt Melissa would be that teacher for quite a few of her kids. Sure, they were silly, rambunctious, and easily distracted, as are most eight and nine year olds. But there was a strong undercurrent of respect for their teacher. The fact that she managed all of this while teaching two grades was immensely impressive. 

You didn’t care if it was petty: the fact that she was just that good made you all the more irritated. 

You watched her with contempt and tried to ignore the budding admiration that was almost imperceptible beneath it all. ‘She’s had plenty of years to practice,’ you think to yourself grumpily, but despite your best efforts, you couldn’t put any real malice behind the words. You didn’t really care about how old she was. You were simply stewing in your feelings, the knowledge that she was apparently touchy about her age the only ammunition you had at the moment. Seeing as you couldn’t find much of anything to criticize when it came to her teaching abilities, you were grasping at straws. 

After her last biting comment, you managed to make it through the rest of the morning mostly unscathed. A few sharp glances had been thrown in your direction as you made your way around the room assisting the kids who asked for help, but you’d resolved to ignore them. You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her dirty looks.

The morning flew by in a flurry of math, reading, and science. You’d started to learn a bit about the kids in your temporary class. There was Jameela, a third grader who’s favorite color was yellow and who had a new kitten at home named Butterscotch; Kaden, a third grader who loved Minecraft and hated jelly beans; Antonia, a second grader who’d corrected you that she went by ‘Toni’ and who’d beamed when you told her she hadn’t made a single mistake on her math sheet; and Lawrence, a third grader who was terribly shy, yet wonderfully intuitive. You’d given him a giant grin as you helped him sound out a word he didn’t know. 

You could feel your sour mood gradually beginning to lift as you’d made your way through the room. Helping students reminded you why you were here. After the events of this morning, the only thing you really wanted to do was keep your head down, do your work, and make it through the end of the day without having another… disagreement with Melissa Schemmenti.

Turns out you wouldn’t make it to lunch. 

A few minutes before 12:30, Melissa gruffly mutters to you in passing that she has lunch duty today. Glancing at the schedule she’d petulantly tossed on your desk earlier, you saw her class had Art and Recess after lunch. As you open your mouth to ask if Melissa wants you to take the kids, she abruptly cuts you off, holding up a hand to silence you. Narrowing her eyes, she bitingly snaps, “I got it. I wanna make sure they get there on time."

The anger that had started to simmer down boils over, becoming white-hot, the suffocating feeling welling up inside of your chest. You’d hoped to move on from this morning, but it was becoming quickly apparent that Melissa Schemmenti knew how to hold a grudge. You clench your jaw, aiming for a low blow you knew would land. "Don't break a hip on the way there," you quietly sneer. You weren't proud of it, but you were pissed and giving into the urge to lash out.

There was an intense flash of animosity in her eyes. You know she heard you, and you're sure you'd be dead on the spot if it weren't for the kids in the room with you. The look in her eyes could peel the skin off of you. "What was that?" she practically growls, her tone low to avoid drawing attention to you both. 

You didn't think she’d go so far as to physically fight you in front of her students, but you noticed her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides, and suddenly you weren't so sure. You'd been in exactly one fight in your life, and you weren't all that convinced that punching a boy in the nose for making fun of you when you were eight even counted. A darker part of you wanted to see how far you could push the woman, but the last thing you needed was to lose your job by continuing to provoke a full-time faculty member.  

Instead of playing into the desire to take things further, you use the only protection you can think of: drawing the attention of the students. Raising your voice slightly above your normal speaking volume, you retort, "I said 'Suit yourself, Miss Schemmenti!’ What do you think I said?" Being unable to resist one final jab, you force a genial tone and add, "Maybe you should get your hearing checked!" 

A couple of students giggle, and you see a muscle in Melissa’s jaw jump out as she clenches her teeth together. She’s practically bursting at the seams to pounce on you and rip your head off. Her nostrils flair with the effort of holding herself together. You find yourself suddenly struck once more by how beautiful she is. There’s a dusting of color high on her cheeks and her eyes are alight with intensity. Her full lips are fighting the urge to pull apart and bare her teeth in a snarl. She was gorgeous. 

You couldn’t fucking stand it. 

She manages to bite out a very forced, “Of course. How silly of me.” She pries herself away from you and stiffly asks the class to stop what they’re doing to line up for lunch. She doesn’t look at you again, but an aura of hostility still hangs in the air around her. You get the impression you’re only safe for the time being.

A few minutes later, you’re alone in the classroom. You feel the weight of the confrontation starting to dissipate and you collapse back into your seat. Dropping your head into your hands, you berate yourself for your childish and unprofessional behavior. You’d never been so quick to anger as you were with Melissa Schemmenti. Replaying the events of the morning, you try to figure out why you both ended up at each other's throats so quickly. You start to think perhaps you’d been too sensitive about Melissa’s japes, but you stop yourself. You had been late, but it was an accident. She’d never met you before and it had felt totally uncalled for. Couldn’t she be bothered to give you the benefit of the doubt?

Her comments about the way you looked just added insult to injury. You realize in her mind she may have just been making a joke, but it had made you feel belittled, as if she didn’t respect your position as her equal. Just because you had less experience than her didn’t mean you should be treated like you were below her. You scowled to yourself, thinking about how she’d reacted when you fired back asking her how old she was. She could dish it, but apparently couldn’t take it.

This day had felt impossibly long, and it wasn’t even 1 PM yet. 

Glancing around the room, you absorb the state it was in. Trying to wrangle nearly thirty kids into a semblance of an orderly line to get to lunch on time meant school supplies were scattered haphazardly across desks and the floor. You didn’t have your lunch today, and though you considered leaving to buy something down the street, you really shouldn’t spend the money.

After a moment’s thought, you stand from your desk and begin tidying up the room. You collect colored pencils, paper scraps, and glue sticks, reuniting them with their caps in the process. If you weren’t going to eat lunch, you might as well keep yourself busy to make time pass a bit faster. And maybe coming back to a cleaner room would improve Melissa’s mood a bit, so you could both leave at the end of the day without having drawn blood. 

You toss the paper scraps into the recycling bin near the door and investigate the various drawers and cabinets to find the proper homes for everything you’d gathered. It’s not long before you discover the colored pencil bin in a cabinet, and frown when you notice the disorganization inside. A teacher as experienced as Melissa didn’t strike you as someone who couldn’t stay on top of her stuff - at least under normal circumstances. With two grades crammed into one room though, it made sense things would get away from her. Did her current aide even do anything?

You start removing things, finding items in the wrong bins as well as many unusable and ruined materials. Huffing to yourself, you manage to empty one container and designate it “The Graveyard”. Soon you’ve amassed a sizable pile of broken or unusable supplies. Deciding to organize the crayons and pencils by color group while you’re here, you’re suddenly interrupted by a quick knock on the doorframe and a voice speaking before you can even turn around.

“Hey Melissa, can I take a peek at your lesson for- oh?” 

You find yourself in the presence of a very small black woman with wide eyes and short curly hair. Her outfit is colorful - ‘Oh lord, the pattern on her skirt. Was her skirt literally made from a quilt?’  The surprise on her face is quickly replaced by the friendliest smile you’d seen today, which was really no competition. Regardless, it fills you with warmth. You silently ask the universe to please let you make one new friend today.

It seems you’ve earned a break. “Sorry, I thought Melissa would be in here, since she’s not in the lounge! She must have lunch duty. I wanted to look at her lesson plans for Social Studies to make sure my class isn’t falling behind. Or getting too far ahead. Probably that second one, my class loves social studies. I’m Miss Teagues- er, Janine!” You don’t even care about her info dump. You’re so relieved to have a normal, friendly introduction that you’d let her talk about almost anything. Janine was the first adult today who hadn’t either lied to your face, or seemed ready and more-than-willing to break it. 

You return the woman’s smile, greeting her and giving her your name. “I’m subbing for the aide while she’s out sick, so it looks like I’ll be around for the next few days,” you tell her. Speaking it out loud, you feel a bit demoralized. ‘If I even live that long.’ 

Janine beams at you. “Well, welcome to Abbott! It’s the best, I love it here. I bet you will too!” You expect her to leave, but an awkward silence follows in which Janine simply looks at you. After what feels like just a little too long, she pipes up.“I love reorganizing! And believe me, I totally get it when you’re in ‘the flow’,” she emphasizes with very cheesy air quotes, “but aren’t you going to eat lunch?”

“Oh, actually I’m okay-” you begin to reassure Janine, but the gurgling of your stomach rudely interrupts you and blows your cover.

You stand in another awkward silence for a moment, before Janine throws you a finger gun and cracks, “Sounds like someone’s hungry. Why don’t you stop for now and come join us in the teacher’s lounge? You can meet Jacob and Gregory!” You’re touched by the enthusiastic offer.

“That sounds really lovely Janine… but I woke up late this morning and left my lunch at home. At this point, I don’t really have time to run out. I’ll be okay, I promise,” you reassure the shorter woman. But you can tell by the look in her eyes she won’t accept your answer.

“At least let me bring you some of my lunch! You need to eat something today!” Before you can protest, Janine is out the door and down the hall. Her insistence on looking after you makes you slightly uncomfortable, seeing as you’d only just met three minutes ago, but you allow yourself to accept her kindness. It was the first overt act of compassion you’d received today, and you had a feeling that once Janine Teagues made up her mind about something, she did not give up easily.

When she returns, she’s holding a paper plate with the most incredible looking lasagna you’ve ever seen. It’s steaming, and as the scent reaches you, your mouth waters. She hands it to you with a grin and says, “Go ahead and dig in! This is the best lasagna ever.”

You take the plate and thank Janine profusely. You feel like you could cry from the kindness she’s shown you in light of how awful the day’s been. You pick up the plastic fork, and take a bite. Immediately your taste buds are flooded with flavor, the melted cheese and perfectly spiced tomato sauce actually bringing tears to your eyes. You didn’t realize until just now how hungry you really are, and you don’t even fully swallow your first bite before taking a second. Janine’s watching you intently, a smile plastered on her face as she witnesses the spiritual journey her lasagna is taking you on. 

After you swallow your third bite, you look at Janine and declare, “This… this might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted. You’re an incredible cook Janine.”

Immediately Janine looks sheepish, her smile unwavering as her eyes dart away from you. “Oh, thank you! But I didn’t make it. I had a bit of a rough week last week. I was in the lounge this morning, doing my prep, you know? And all of a sudden, a tupperware full of lasagna’s sitting in front of me. She didn’t say anything, but I know it was Melissa’s way of taking care of me.”

You come to a screeching halt mid-chew. The name unpleasantly rings in your ears like tinnitus after a loud concert. Through a mouthful of food, you utter, “Melissa?”

Janine’s eyebrows come together in confusion. As if it’s the most obvious fact in the world, she replies, “Yeah, Melissa. She’s the incredible cook.” 

Your appetite evaporates. The lasagna may as well have turned to ash in your mouth. You have to force it down, not wanting to spit it out into the trash in front of Janine. Despite the heavenly taste, this new knowledge makes it feel like your body’s trying to reject the food. You look down at the remaining lasagna on your plate and your stomach churns. After a final gulp, you turn away from Janine and grimace, abandoning the remainder of her lunch on your desk. You muster a weak, “Wow, that’s… wow!” 

‘Is there anything this damn woman can’t do!?” you think, your mood reaching its depths of the day. You take a moment to compose yourself before turning back around to Janine and shooting her a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you Janine. I should finish up what I started before the class gets back!” Janine assures you she’s happy to have helped, and after dallying a moment longer, she departs the room.

Your hands fly to your face, running down it in exasperation. You just couldn’t escape Melissa Schemmenti. Still, a niggling thought sticks in the back of your mind. It appears the woman was capable of being civil, and even showing acts of kindness. Although indirectly, it was because of her that you'd been able to eat today. You're sure she'd be furious about that.

You resolve yourself to try and patch things up with her. Taking stock of the progress you've made in organizing and decluttering her room, you think you might have a good start to doing just that.

[legendary-guest]

High school sucks, from puberty to petty relationship drama to navigating the cliques - not to mention the teachers! Some so crabby, so lippy, so unfair, so mean that you could swear they were...evil?

Meet Dr. Drew Lipsky and Ms. Shea Go! Other outfits linked here. Lots of text under the cut.

"Mr. Lipsky is my father. You will address me as Dr. Lipsky."

It is difficult to escape Dr. Lipsky on the learning side of the high school ecosystem, he practically runs every class that involves math or science.

Arrogant, grouchy and with a tendency to ramble, Doc runs his classroom with an iron fist and a strict no lip policy. He is seldom seen without his ruler, which he uses to write along the chalkboard with his terrible handwriting, draw diagrams, gesture wildly with and slam on sleeping students' desks to rudely wake them. Despite this unpleasant behaviour, he has obvious favourite students - some of them have gone a long way just by sucking up to him - like not being yelled at and being one of the privileged few that haven't been damned to detention for a minor transgression. He's not just mean, he's also weird.

He likes to show-off the fact that he can draw a perfect circle, free-handed. This impresses a lot of the kids, until it becomes dull - he is workshopping drawing a perfect dodecahedron free-handed (it's not going well). School festivities and similar events, not centred around sport, tend to have him actively organising and participating in them. Always decorates the classroom around Christmas time, becomes unbearably cheery. His love for Snowman Hank is infamous.

Students have figured out an effective method to avoid learning - by getting Dr. Lipsky to talk about himself, or anything that vaguely interests him, he isn't difficult to distract. If he realises what's happening, everyone gets extra homework. If he doesn't and class ends, he seethes about it.

Of course, this means that he's always marking, always busy, a vicious feedback loop. He secretly doesn't mind this, as it keeps him occupied, away from depressing thoughts and crushing loneliness. His job is his social life, but even this is difficult as the only real rapport he has with anyone are the students he rambles to. Well, them and now Ms. Go, whom he carpools with - picking him up and dropping him off 5 days a week, just the two of them. His own car was totalled by Ed, and unable to afford another on a teacher's salary, he'd been catching the bus to and from work. His garage has turned into a workshop, where he tinkers with fixing old computers, building robots, lasers, programming microchips, etc. He really doesn't spend time in his own home.

Drew is dyslexic but doesn't know it - he's found ways to manage this. One of these ways is calling on kids who he knows are in Ms. Go's classes - he always knows them - to help him spell something. “How do you spell it?” “What?” “What do you mean ‘what?’ I know you’re in Miss Go’s AP Literature class, so tell me how to spell it!” “Uh…” [spelling ensues] “That wasn’t so difficult now was it?” “Thanks would be nice” “Detention.” “What?” “I heard you talk back. Detention. I’m old, not deaf.” Unlike Drakken, the subject of his blue skin and scar aren't things he's keen to talk about. He addresses it once at the beginning of every semester to the students to quell rumours and that's it. “Before you all start asking, I’ll tell you. This nasty scar? Lab accident. Blue skin? Lab accident. Is it contagious? No. We’re speaking about injuries, not cooties. So, you know I take lab safety very, very seriously. Gloves, closed shoes and glasses in the lab at all times! Last thing I need is a lawsuit from your parents.” No member of staff, including Ms. Go, know why he is blue.

He is still a college drop-out - his doctorate and teaching certifications are fake. He has never been caught. The inciting incident for dropping out (I have yet to cement whether or not it is the Bebes) has defeated him instead of motivating him. Drew Lipsky is still Drakken, but listless, without real focus or ambition, prone to indifference and depression. As Dr. Lipsky, he is a genuinely good, competent teacher, despite all his faults - the need to explain things, repeatedly, helps him in the profession.

Ms. Go is the hot new English teacher at school! Although she is new to teaching on her own, she is not as naïve as some might think. With her experience as Shego, member of Team Go from Go City, dealing with her brothers and various criminals and villains alike, Ms. Go knows her way around people - the Child Development qualification is merely a bonus.

Staff and students don't know of Ms. Go's hero identity and she goes to great lengths to deceive students that point out her strangely tinted skin - by telling them that it's merely the fluorescent lights in the school that make her appear green, and that, maybe, they should be more focused on what's on the board. Several students have started wearing glasses since her employment. Gaslighting the kids is something she enjoys immensely. Dr. Lipsky has noticed, too, but he doesn't bring it up, accepting her reasoning - for now.

Her attractiveness is no secret, with many a boy harbouring a crush on her, some of the bolder ones hitting on her in class or the hallway. Ms. Go effectively destroys the fragile, male teen ego in a single, creatively worded sentence, leaving a path of bitter, broken hearts (and sometimes tears) behind her. Creative put-downs aren't just reserved for boys that hit on her.

Ms. Go's criteria for her hitlist include: disrupting class, poor enunciation/pronunciation, mumbling, using the wrong words, incorrect/poor grammar, and abuse of teen slang in class.

Anything that isn't a school textbook or notebook that is left behind in Ms. Go's classroom goes missing. Pencils, pens, spare change, personal diaries, MP3 players, CD players, gum (which they shouldn't have anyway!) - gone. Ms. Go picks the room CLEAN as soon as all of them leave - finders keepers! She has an impressive collection, and shares the spoils with Dr. Lipsky. Forgot something in Ms. Go's class? FORGET IT! She gives props to those who can clap back in a creative (grammatically correct, well-spoken) way. For this, she is a very divisive figure, fluctuating between cool-hot-mean-bitchy at all times.

The popular, self-absorbed girls try to emulate Ms. Go, from her mannerisms to her style. She doesn't mind this, and even has some fun in seeing how far she can take it.

Ms. Go runs her classes efficiently and she never assigns extra homework - she doesn't want to mark it. She clocks in at 7am and clocks out at 3:30pm, not a minute before or after.

She has an expensive sports car (I'm thinking a Maserati), which she was able to procure from the Mayor of Go City for her service. Hego was, is, very upset over this. Although she has been out of the hero game for a while, something about the unusually hued Dr. Drew Lipsky had her extend the offer to carpool - just him. Especially after she saw him come to work, late, soaking wet from some surprise torrential rain, snarling and growling and snapping at anyone who so much as looked at him funny - only to be berated by the principal on top of it all.

Her degree in Child Development means that she holds the position of school counsellor. Problem is, no one wants to see her! Who does after hearing all the mean things she says? Her small office is rarely visited, to the point where Dr. Lipsky has moved in with all his stuff, mountains of paper that made his corner of the teacher's lounge very unseemly. Anyone who knocks is met with the Doc's intimidating stature and signature frown.

Ms. Go and Dr. Lipsky sit by themselves in the small office, never in the teacher's lounge. Drew will sometimes stay back and work, catching the bus home, whilst Shea goes home. As they get closer, Ms. Go will sometimes just go for a few hours and return to the school to take the Doc home. Although it seems like she's got it all, at the end of the day, she still goes home to her apartment - alone. Used to being surrounded by her family, as annoying as they are, used to the excitement and rush of hero work, and no longer actively using her powers, Shea is not too sure what to make of normal, civilian life. Especially after hers has been anything but. Partying, clubbing and shopping on the weekends are fun, but the prospect of socialising with others, finding interests that aren't focused on her career is daunting, if not a little frightening, if she were honest with herself. Shego, as Ms. Go, still calls him Dr. D (for 'Drew', she says the alliteration makes it fun to say) and Doc. Drew Lipsky for when she really wants to annoy him.

Drew/Drakken having dyslexia, Drew/Drakken taking the bus and the name Shea for Shego's real name are all lifted from Dwelling by @gogofordrakgo. The AU has been stewing for a very long time, almost as long as I have been reviewing. All elements lifted have been credited. I see several paths for it.

A 'Normal' AU where they exist within the KP world but never become villains, and don't teach at Middleton High School.

An Origin Story of how Drakken and Shego met teaching at some high school and then getting into villainy together.

An AU where they are teachers at Middleton High School and Kim and Ron are students there, still saving the world. They still play an antagonistic role, Drakken more than Shego, with Shego empathising with Kim without breaking her Shego-ness and becoming too nice, still distance between them. Ron would also be Shego's one-and-only student that she sees as a counsellor. Their sessions consist of having him accompany her to the mall - retail therapy. In this version of the AU, the recurring villains would be The Seniors. Senior Sr. is a big name supervillain looking to retire and is training his spoiled, sheltered son Senior Jr. to take up the mantle, but all he's interested in is becoming a teen-pop sensation, even though he learns quickly and can take on KP. Senior Sr. finds Kim Possible, not only a worthy adversary, but the ideal match for his son! He is the number one Kim x Junior shipper. (500k slow-burn, enemies to lovers epic fanfic, babies ever after - 7 for all 7 continents - 4 girls and 3 boys - evil-and-in-love - he's planned Junior's entire life for him, he can't wait to retire!). Dr. Lipsky and Ms. Go become villains at the end, becoming Dr. Drakken and Shego, the new villainous couple looking to rule the world and taking the place of Senor Senior Sr. and Senor Senior Jr.

Alternative to the last where it's all the same but they don't become villains. Maybe they try for a bit and after having their fun, they settle down to have a family. I dunno!

Now, is there more to come? YES! MAYBE! We'll see how I am feeling. Why did I do it this way and not write something properly? Because I don't like writing or plotting multi-chapter fanfic. I really wanted to make something that I could write for in this very casual way, and, if anyone else wanted to write or draw for this, that it would be possible.

Teacher AU is such a strong concept for the characters as they are, I wanted to really have it be true to them, as we see and know them in the show. I didn't want huge differences in their backstories, interests, mannerisms or relationships with other characters, because all those things inform who they are. I love that Drakken is a scatter-brained, easily-offended, easily distracted grouch and that Shego is such an annoying, snarky woman, a staunch grammarian and runner-up for professional slacker (Ron takes the number one spot). I wanted to challenge myself with this and I hope that I have been successful with it, at least initially.

[the-wize-1]

Thawing the Widow (A Natasha Romanoff Story): Chapter 8 - Purely Coincidence

Chapter Summary: Cat starts classes at Midtown High, where she recognizes a certain someone.

Chapter Warnings: None

Notes: This is for everyone wanting more Peter! Let me know if there is something else you want to see too! Updates are slow as I’m on vacation right now but I’ll try to crank out what I can!

Thawing the Widow Masterlist

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

March - One week later - Rosewood Elementary

“You’re gonna be taking classes at the high school?” T.J. said incredulously.

“Yup.”

“Are you a genius or something?” Lance demanded.

“Pretty much,” Cat said. “But I’m still gonna be coming here, only Mr. Radd from the office is driving me to the high school for a couple of classes a day.”

Lance’s eyes were wide. “Whoa.”

To her surprise and slight pleasure, Cat had slotted in well with her table group. T.J. came off as sweet and quiet, but Cat found out that he had his share of eye-rolling and wry side comments. This was especially present during Chelsea’s long rants about the most frivolous inconveniences, like how she found the school’s water fountains “disgusting” and “unseemly” for a person “of her stature.”

Lance had been right about Chelsea. Seriously, the girl thought she was a big deal or something. Most everyone at the school was well-off— Cat didn’t know why Natasha had chosen to enroll her in such a preppy elementary school— but Chelsea’s parents were dripping in wealth, a fact that Chelsea liked to shove in everyone’s faces. They dressed her up like a doll, in frilly, pastel clothes and matching shoes. Coupled with her auburn curls and doe eyes, she looked like a princess. A spoiled, smack-talking, evil-hearted princess.

Every time Chelsea made a Chelsea-like comment, Lance and Cat would lock eyes and exchange a series of silent mocking, which made her presence bearable. Meanwhile, Lance and Cat got along like a house on fire. He was the class troublemaker— a position that Cat both respected and was vying for. However, Cat’s quick wit and cutting remarks balanced them out.

Their table group was located at the furthest corner of the classroom, making it an ideal location for hushed conversations during boring lessons. Currently, Mrs. Reynolds was lecturing the class about negative numbers. The worksheets they’d been given were things Cat could’ve finished in her sleep.

“How are you so smart?” T.J. asked.

Cat tapped her head. “Perfect memory. I can remember stuff like that.” She emphasized the last part of her sentence by snapping.

“That’s not even possible,” Chelsea dismissed. “There’s no such thing as a perfect memory.”

Cat turned on her. “Explain to me how I have one, then.”

“You don’t, obviously.”

“I so do.”

“Don’t!”

“Do!”

“Cat, Chelsea,” Mrs. Reynolds warned from the front of the class, stopping mid-lecture. Half the class turned to look at them. This was a common occurrence. “Are you paying attention?”

“Sorry, Mrs. Reynolds,” Chelsea simpered, widening her eyes innocently. Her entire persona had changed in less than a second. “It won’t happen again.”

“Suck-up,” Cat muttered once Mrs. Reynolds had turned.

“Least I’m not a liar,” Chelsea fired back.

“I’m not a liar. I can prove it.”

“Don’t bother. It’s ridiculous, anyway,” Chelsea said, crossing her arms. “You’re just trying to get attention.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Which high school is it?” T.J. intervened smoothly, like he’d done a hundred times.

“Midtown School of Science and Technology,” Cat replied, throwing Chelsea a smug smile.

Lance perked up. “My sister goes there! It’s a really fancy school.”

“If it’s called a ‘School of Science and Technology’, don’t they only teach science and technology there?” Chelsea asked. “How’re you gonna learn math and social studies? You’ll be so behind.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Cat retorted scathingly. “Obviously they teach math, too. Just because it’s a science and technology school doesn't mean—”

“GIRLS!” Mrs. Reynolds yelled tiredly from the front of the classroom. “Don’t make me separate you two!”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

March - that day - Midtown High

The boy in her chemistry class was definitely staring at her.

Actually, half the class was staring at her, due to the lovely introduction Mrs. Whatsherface (Cat hadn’t caught her name) was currently giving her.

“Class, this is our new student, Cat. She’s only ten years old and she’s going to be attending Midtown High for the rest of the year. Now, you’re all responsible high schoolers. I expect all of you to welcome her warmly. I don’t want to hear about any mistreatment going on behind my back…”

Cat zoned out. She’d heard a similar speech given in her Algebra and English classes. Here’s the weird freaky-smart fourth-grader, please don’t eat her alive. So she was used to the staring by now. That didn’t mean it had stopped freaking her out. She wasn’t going to lie and say she wasn’t intimidated by the high schoolers. They were so much taller and older than her. They felt like giants. They talked about things that she didn’t know the slightest about.

Some of the nice ones tried to befriend her, but these occasions were more awkward than not. They tended to talk to her like she was their five-year-old cousin at Thanksgiving dinner, which did not make a strong friendship foundation. Cat just stared at them until they backed away slowly. And so the staring continued.

But the boy wasn’t staring at her in the judgemental, why-are-you-here way she’d grown accustomed to. Instead, he looked confused. His brow was wrinkled as if he wasn’t sure which item to order off the menu at a restaurant. His gaze followed her as Mrs. Whatsherface gestured for her to take a seat at the same table as his.

A Filipino kid next to the boy gave her a friendly smile. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Ned.” He glanced at the boy and nudged him.

The boy started. “I’m Peter.”

He looked away then, but Cat was aware of his frequent glances towards her as Mrs. Whatsherface started the lesson. She ignored it, instead focusing on scribbling down notes in the lab notebook as required and writing observations in the worksheet that had been passed out. She had never learned the material before; it was all very interesting. Still, Peter’s staring was getting a lot less subtle.

Cat’s head finally snapped up, returning his gaze with an unblinking stare of her own. “What is it?”

“Sorry,” he said immediately, head falling back down to his work.

When his eyes found its way back to her less than a minute later, she hissed, “What?”

“Sorry,” he repeated, looking away. “I just thought I recognized you.”

As he spoke, Cat thought she might’ve recognized him too.

Ever since she was little, Cat had been able to recall the exact pitch and inflection of any voice she’d ever heard. That statement, and the sound of his voice, triggered something in her memory. The boy’s voice was a lot more subdued and quiet from when she’d heard it last, but her memory had never failed her before. It only took her thirteen and a half seconds to correctly match the voice to the person.

Spider-Man.

Cat had to physically restrain herself from gasping and yelling something out that wouldn’t be appropriate in a school setting. It took an impressive amount of self-control to bite the inside of her cheek, give the boy a weird look and shrug as nothing had happened, and turn back to her work. But instead of writing down the answer to number 5 on the lab worksheet, Cat stared blankly at the page, an internal turmoil whirling inside of her.

She trusted her memory, but she couldn’t help thinking, Seriously? This high schooler, of all people? This is… Spider-Man? No— more accurately— Spider-Boy .

When she’d met him, she’d guessed that he was young, but she hadn’t thought he’d still be in high school. That was… young, right? Or was that normal? Cat thought back to the Avengers she’d met— Hawkeye had for sure been older than a high schooler. He’d looked about the same age as Trevor. Cat knew Natasha was kind of young, which made sense. You couldn’t fight aliens and robots if you had aching bones and stiff knees.

But still— a high schooler? In the grand scheme of things, that was barely older than her. How old were high schoolers again? Fourteen to eighteen?

Cat risked a look up at him. Peter was scribbling on the page, almost done with the problems on the worksheet. He had brown hair with a slight curl to it, and eyes without the slightest hint of malice in them. He wore a crewneck sweatshirt over a collared shirt. He dressed like a stereotypical nerd, but Cat noticed he was built athletically and had a slight, yet muscular figure. Despite this, he didn’t look anything like what she’d expect a superhero to look.

For example, Cat could tell just by looking at Natasha that she was an Avenger. Even out of her Black Widow garb and dressed in civilian clothes, she was strikingly intimidating and gave off an important, self-assured air. Peter looked like any random high schooler. Not even any random high schooler— a high schooler who was made fun of by bullies.

Like a lightbulb turning on, Cat recalled something interesting that had taken place outside of class. She’d been on her way to class, when a preppy-looking boy— Flash, his friends had called him— rolled up in an expensive car, jeering at Peter. They yelled out names at him. One had stood out to Cat— “Penis Parker.” The insult was neither funny nor creative, but it made Flash’s hoard of goonies roar with laughter. Peter had ignored them, but it was clear he was used to this kind of charade.

“Now you’re the one staring at me,” Peter/Spider-Boy said, and Cat realized with a start that she’d been caught.

“Yeah, uh,” Cat stalled, still frazzled by the realization. “I think I recognize you too.”

At this seemingly innocent statement, Peter's eyes widened, and a look of wild panic passed over his face. He started stammering. “Uh— wait, really? That’s, um, that’s so weird.”

He suddenly launched into a coughing fit, bent-double over the table. Ned clapped him on the back, hard. Peter lurched forward and his lab goggles came off. In one swift, fluid motion, he swiped them before they could smash onto the floor. Mrs. Whatsherface hurried over to make sure everything was okay as Peter’s coughing subsided. While this happened, Cat couldn’t help but feel a bit unimpressed with him. Was he really this bad at disguising his reactions? If Cat hadn’t already figured it out by then, she would have certainly been suspicious of his actions.

“Dude,” Ned muttered, “you good?”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good,” Mrs. Whatsherface said, relieved. She looked over his worksheet and smiled at him. “Done already? Keep it up, Peter.”

Peter, Cat thought. The name echoed in her head. Peter Parker.

She knew Spider-Man’s real identity.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Cat was not stalking Peter Parker.

She just happened to be walking in the same direction as him when she saw him leaving campus. And followed him when he turned a corner. And idled on the same street when he stopped to pay a vendor for a hot dog. And… okay, maybe she was stalking Peter Parker.

But Cat was curious. Questions had been springing up in her head all day. Had she gotten it wrong, or was Peter Parker really Spider-Man? And if he was, how did he do it all— manage school and Spider-Man-ing? When Cat wanted to find something out, there was nothing she wouldn’t push out of her path to get to it.

She was careful to stay a few paces behind him, but he seemed to know someone was following him. His strides became longer and hastier, and he frequently cast looks behind his shoulder. He never saw Cat— she was too short to be quickly picked out from the crowded sidewalk, but she could tell he was wary.

Eventually, he stopped. He crossed the street and headed into a library. Cat lingered at the steps of the library for a few moments, waiting to see if he would come out. When it became clear that he wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon, she followed him in.

A rush of warmth hit her as she came in through the doors. She hadn’t been in this particular library before. It was small, colorful, and cozy. She did some exploring, wandering the shelves while keeping an eye out for Peter. There were beanbags and bright stuffed animals in the children’s section. A row of computers lined a table. There was a section of tables in the corner of the library. And finally— there!

Spotting a head of brown curls, Cat crouched behind a shelf of books and watched him. He was sitting alone at an isolated table, scribbling in a notebook. Earbuds were hanging from his ears, and his head was bobbing to the beat. There was a laptop open in front of him. Every now and then, he would punch numbers into a calculator. He looked like he was doing his Algebra homework. Not doing any things that screamed, Hey, look! I’m Spider-Man!

Cat looked away, disappointed. Her gaze fell on a small nub of an eraser lying on a table. She got an idea. Palming the eraser, she walked closer to Peter’s table, positioning herself so that she was perpendicularly behind him. The section of tables was mostly empty. There was only a sprinkling of people, none seated near Peter’s table, all so concentrated on their work that they paid her no attention.

Cat rolled the eraser around in her fingers, peering at the boy. Her aim was usually dead-on— she had an uncanny knack for darts. She lined up her arm to her target, and lobbed the eraser at Peter. The eraser had barely left her hand before there was a flash of movement. Cat, expecting it, saw it as if it happened in slow motion.

The calculator dropped onto the table with a clatter. Peter spun around in his chair, almost faster than Cat could comprehend, and caught the eraser inches before it hit his face. His eyes flitted across the room, searching for the thrower. It didn’t take him long to find her. It wasn’t Cat’s intention to hide— and even if it was, there was hardly anything to hide behind. She looked right into his eyes, and saw the suspicion replaced by startled confusion.

She walked up to him. He was a lot taller up close. He looked at her, clearly expecting an explanation for randomly chucking an eraser at his head. She was instantly seized with a bout of anxiety. Perhaps she should have prepared a speech. What was she planning to say to him? She fumbled for the right words. It had to be the right combination of intelligence, humor, and comprehensiveness. She couldn’t mess this up.

“Hi,” she said.

Nailed it.

“Hi,” he responded reflexively.

“I’m Cat. We have the same chem.”

“I know.” He glanced behind him, towards the doors of the library. A frown came over his face. “I’m confused. Did you follow me here?”

“Kind of. Maybe. Well, yes. Nice catch, by the way,” she added.

He held up the eraser. “Did you—”

“I did, yeah.” Now what? “Listen. I know you’re Spider-Man,” she whispered impulsively, in a volume so low that she could barely hear herself.

Peter seemed to have heard her as clearly as if she’d just shouted it across the room. He jerked away from her like she told him that she had a contagious disease. His mouth opened, then snapped shut with a close. His head snapped from side to side, his eyes darting across the room again, making sure no one had heard.

He leaned in closer, and Cat could tell he was about to deny it. “That’s not—”

“And there’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind,” she said hastily, talking over him, “because I’m completely sure about it. And you know me, you said yourself you recognize me, because you saved my—”

He made a series of frantic waving motions with his hands, eyes bugged out of his head. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! SHHHHH!”

In the stillness of the library, his wild movements and volume caused a series of heads to swivel towards them to see what all the fuss was about.

“Sorry,” Peter whispered, and they all collectively turned back.

“Very smooth,” Cat murmured.

He looked around nervously. “We should go somewhere else to talk.”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“I like your backpack,” Peter said, once they were both settled into the furthest part of the alley. “It’s very—”

“Ugly and pink. And don’t try to change the subject! It won’t change the fact that I know you’re—”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Peter raised his hands up hastily, then lowered his voice. “Could you maybe not say those words out loud?”

“Why? What’s gonna happen? Is a lightning bolt going to strike me out of the sky?” Cat looked up at the clear blue sky and held up her arms, fully expecting this exact scenario to happen.

“What? No! I just don’t want people to know who I am.”

“So you admit it? That you’re…” Cat leaned in closer to him, so that her mouth was inches away from his ear. “Spider-Boy ?”

He sighed in defeat. “Spider-Man.”

“Hardly,” she dismissed, pulling back. “You’re barely older than me.”

“Hey!” Peter protested. “I saved your life.”

Cat felt pleasantly surprised that he’d really remembered her. “You remember?”

“Of course. You were the girl being mugged in an alley by those jerks. You had a cute little beagle.”

“Her name’s Taco.”

“Looks like your eye healed up all right.” His eyes scrunched up. “Didn’t you say you were homeless? How are you in school? And why are you at my school? And why did you follow me?”

“It’s a long story. And it’s purely coincidence, I promise. I’m not, like, a crazy stalker or anything. I was just curious.”

“But you did stalk me to the library,” he pointed out.

“That’s besides the point.”

“So what is the point?”

“The point is, Spider-Boy—”

“Peter,” he interrupted. “Don’t call me that. Call me Peter.”

“Fine, Peter. The point is, I’m awesome and I figured out that you’re…” Cat leaned closer for a second time. Dramatically, she whispered, “ Spider-Man .”

He cocked his head at her. “Right, that. How did you figure it out?”

“Your voice. All high pitched and squeaky. Kind of hard to forget.”

“Hold on.” He put his hands up, stopping her. “You recognized who I was… by my voice?”

“Don’t be too flattered. I’ve remembered every voice I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Remember that thing I told you about the voice modulator? You should really get on to changing it, because someone super smart like me could figure you out just by hearing your real voice.”

“That’s crazy,” Peter repeated. “This whole thing is crazy. Your memory must be nuts. Is that why you go to Midtown? Are you a child prodigy?”

“I mean, I don’t want to sound too boastful, but… yeah, basically.”

“That’s… kind of awesome.” He shook his head. “But this is so weird.”

“Tell me about it.”

There was a moment of tense silence where they just looked at each other. Cat wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Was there anything going on? She’d nearly revealed Spider-Man’s real identity in a public library, dragged him to an uncomfortable hiding spot, and forced him to admit the truth to her. She felt a little bad about inconveniencing him. But now what? What had she been planning to do after capturing his attention?

“Sorry if this was creepy,” Cat blurted. “Is this creepy?”

“It’s a little creepy,” he confirmed. “But not bad-creepy.” He considered that for a moment. “Also not good-creepy. It’s more of an in-the-middle creepy.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said.

“No, it’s not. It’s creepy.”

“It’s not that creepy. You know what— let’s just stop saying the word ‘creepy.’”

“Agreed.”

Something shifted about him. He was suddenly wary, nervous. He regarded her carefully. “Hey. You aren’t going to tell anyone about this, right? About me being… you know?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I mean, I don’t get why you wanna keep it all a secret. If I were you, I’d swing around and shove it up everyone’s faces.” She widened her eyes at him earnestly. “But if you don’t want me to tell, I won’t tell.”

“You swear? It’s really important to me that you swear.”

Cat held out her pinky. “I not only swear— I pinky swear.”

He linked his pinky with it. “Just to be clear, this means you won’t tell anyone. Not your teacher, not even your closest friends.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Obviously, because that would fall under the definition of ‘anyone.’”

He went on. “Because this is super important—”

“Spider-Boy!” she yelled at him, a little offended. That effectively shut him up. “Are you doubting my promise-keeping abilities?”

“Yeah. A little.”

“Well, don’t! I am an excellent promise-keeper.”

He raised his hands defensively. “Okay, I believe you! Just making sure.”

After a moment, Cat asked, “I can’t even tell Taco?”

He thought about it. “You can tell Taco.”

“Yay!” She checked her watch, and her mood did an instant one-eighty. “Oh, crap!”

“What?”

Cat grabbed her backpack from the ground. “Crap!”

“What is it?” Peter asked, now alarmed.

Crapcrapcrapcrap. She’d forgotten about her promise to Natasha to meet her at the apartment after school for her first fighting lesson.

“I have to be somewhere,” she yelled to Peter as she booked it out of that alley. “See you in chem!”

“Okay!” he yelled after her. “This was very weird!”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Notes: Yay for more Peter and Cat! Let me know if there are other things you want to see! And please continue to like/reblog/comment if you’re enjoying the story so far! They motivate me so so much while I’m writing. Thank you!

[starboybutler]

Lights Up (Ch. 1)

summary: john egan, sophomore, sees a cute boy in class and gets serious about his education. (not)

word count: 3148

warnings: objectification, drugs, sh, non-con (all briefly mentioned), blowjobs, john egan is kind of an asshole

notes: first chapter of my college au fic! this went through like. five rewrites before i was happy with it and even now i still kinda hate it. but!! i hope you guys enjoy!

chapter two | chapter three | ao3 link

here's some art for this chapter!

john egan was not made for college in the slightest.

he enjoyed the experience– the parties, the friends he made, the experimenting with almost every drug in the book– but the academics? not so much.

he wasn't even sure how he got in, honestly. he did all the paperwork when he was high one night, and he gotten a letter saying he was accepted. his momma was so happy for him.

he had skipped class a lot, opting to go out and meet up with a dude he matched with on tinder instead and fucking his brains out in a shady alleyway and ghosting him the next day. when he did attend class, he would sleep through it and miss almost everything his professor said.

he was bad with his assignments too. he never turned them in on time, always promising his professors via email that he'd get it turned in by the end of the week. and when he didn't, he'd just leave it be.

that's the thing about college though– unlike high school, there was no one to breathe down your neck to tell you to do your schoolwork. they expected you to fend for yourself because you were an adult now.

john honestly never had a reason to go to class. until last week.

here he was, in god knows what class listening to his professor drone on about square roots…something like that. did he even sign up for a math class?

whatever. all he was focussed on was the pretty blonde boy that had found a seat right in front of him. he had sleepy blue eyes and pouty pink lips that put every woman he’s ever seen to shame. his hair fell in ribbons over his shoulders, shiny and soft looking. he couldn't take his eyes off of him.

he showed up last week without a word, hair in a messy little ponytail and dressed up in a frayed jean jacket and leather pants. john was so happy he decided to show up to class that day. the minute that blonde beauty walked in, he perked right up, immediately gaining an interest in this particular class.

that entire day, he watched as he wrote line upon line upon line of notes, muscles in his hand moving dutifully.

god.

john had started waking up and walking to class everyday, even opting to get here early just to watch the new boy set up his little work station. he had plenty of pens and pencils and scratch paper to take notes on, but this week he seemed to have finally invested in a laptop for his notes instead– which was a shame, because he had pretty handwriting.

despite a week passing, he had only just text curt about the new boy today, telling him every little detail he’s remembered.

curtie 🖕🏻💚

‘hello???? you’re just gonna say all this and not send a picture???’

curtie🖕🏻💚

‘you’re evil’

bucky huffed out a little laugh.

‘i don't know if you've been told this, but taking pictures of people you don't know is weird.’

curtie 🖕🏻💚

‘ITS FOR SCIENCE’

‘NO curt’

curtie 🖕🏻💚

‘FINE. i’ll just come over there’

“oh god,” john sighed, letting his head fall forward onto the table in front of him, slightly embarrassed. he loved curt to death, but he acted like he was in heat sometimes- like he just couldn't help himself around a good looking guy.

he peeked at the boy again. today, the boy was dressed a little less flashy than the previous days– only wearing a simple white shirt and gray sweatpants.

he was hyperfocused on his laptop as he soaked up the professors words like a sponge, typing his words into a well organized word document with quick, nimble fingers. his glasses slid lower on his nose, making him take a hand away from his keyboard for a split second and push them back up to the bridge.

john was hypnotized by every movement of his. he seemed so calm, collected– calculated. he seemed like everything bucky wasn't. he was the type of boy that john had always fantasized about taking home and corrupting beyond repair.

fucked up, yeah, but the thought of taking this pretty, smart blonde beauty to bed and making him scream and yell and forget everything nerdy he was typing until he could think of nothing but john’s name– bringing him to filthy, low down clubs and having him take all kinds of things and then fucking him in his car while he giggled, just happy to be there…

god, what an image he created for himself.

“issat him?”

“christ–” john sputtered, startled as curt’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear, arm suddenly slung around his shoulder. “didn't think you were actually comin’.”

“you know me, bucky.” the boy smiled, eyes fixed hard on the blonde, scanning every single little detail. “i hear about a hot guy, i just can't help myself. it's a curse.”

“i gotta get you spayed or something,” he joked, tugging the shorter boy’s hoodie so that he was sat in the chair next to him. “siddown.”

they spent a good while just staring, before curt broke the silence with a filthy whisper in bucky’s ear.

“think he'd be down for a threeway?”

“curtis.”

“what? man, god knows what you're thinkin’ i’m just brave enough to say what i’m thinking out loud.”

“yeah, in a class full of people,” he hissed, flicking curt on the side of the head. “keep your voice down.”

“what's your deal?” curt huffed, rubbing at the spot john had struck him bitterly. “you’d be flirting with a guy this hot by now. it's like you're scared or something.”

“i’m not scared– you're just bein’ too goddamn loud.” john said, elbowing him in the side sharply. “besides, he seems like the shy type- so i’ll have to get him to warm up to me before i can even suggest anything, y’know?”

“ughhh,” curt groaned, falling back dramatically and clutching his chest as if he were dying. “i dunno if i can wait johnny-boy. i wanna devour him like thanksgiving dinner and lick the plate clean.”

“i know you do.” john mumbled, rubbing at his temples. “just try and be patient, yeah? don't you got other boy toys you can sleep with in the meantime?”

“none as good lookin’ as him.”

“down boy.” john teased. “i got this. just give me a week and we'll have him in our dorm.”

curt huffed and stood from where he was seated, shoving his hands into his loose pockets. “alright, but i’ll be damned if i wait a day longer.”

and there he went, striding out of the classroom like he owned the damn place, pants falling low on his hips because he'd lost his goddamn belt somewhere the week before. that boy was more of a mess than he was.

class came to a close, and john sighed and picked up his bag nonchalantly. he had been brainstorming a way to even approach the guy, seeing as he looked like the quieter type. he had a nagging feeling that if he tried to just go up to him and strike up a conversation he'd freak him out a little bit.

he must've spaced out. when he came to, the room was empty, save for the professor organizing his haphazard work space.

“i know you aren't gonna ask me any questions about the lecture, egan,” the frumpy old man said, glaring up at him. “you know where the door is.”

“gee, thanks.” john mumbled under his breath.

he turned to leave, bag slung lazily over his shoulder, only for something glimmering under the fluorescent lights of the room to catch his eye.

he turned to look at the object. it was a pair of glasses.

he practically jumped over the table to get to where the blonde was sat previously, taking hold of the thin-framed specs in his large hand.

perfect.

he dashed out of the classroom, hoping he could still run into him somewhere outside since class hadn't ended that long ago. he made his way into the hall, which was fairly vacant, and scanned for him almost frantically.

there.

he was standing near the exit door, fumbling through his satchel for something– and john hard a fairly good idea of what he was looking for. he took a deep breath, straightened his back and walked towards him, shoving the bifocals in his pocket.

“hey,” he started, obviously scaring the blonde a bit as his eyes shot up from his bag, meeting john’s. “lose something?”

“oh, uh,”

he looked caught off guard, but his face remained surprisingly stoic. the only tell that he was nervous was his stiff posture and twitching fingers.

“yeah, lost my glasses. think i left ‘em somewhere.”

god, his voice was deep– smooth and soft with a hint of a southern twang.

his plump bottom lip twitched slightly as he took his hand out of his cluttered handbag, letting them rest at his sides. he fidgeted with nimble fingers, picking at a loose string that stuck out from his frayed jeans.

he was so much cuter up close. john could really get a good look at all of his features– his sleepy eyes, his soft hair, his straight nose, the freckles that dotted his cheeks, and the musky, sandalwood-vanilla scent that wafted off of him. john wanted to devour him.

he pulled the aforementioned glasses from the pocket of his basketball shorts, presenting them to the blonde. “y’mean these?”

the blonde perked up.

“oh, yeah,” he said, quickly taking them and sliding them back onto his face, missing the way john jumped a little as their skin made contact for a split second. “thanks. must’ve dropped ‘em.”

“nah, left them in class, actually,” john informed, nodding back to the door of the now barren math room. “saw ‘em sitting on the table, so i picked ‘em up.”

“uh, thanks,” he said, hands moving to clutch at the strap of his satchel. “how’d you know they were mine?”

john chuckled and gave his most charming smile, cocking his head to the side slightly, just to add to the charm a bit. “couldn't forget a cutie like you sittin’ in front of me.”

the boy turned his head away at the words, but john didn't miss the way his cheeks flushed a soft, sweet shade of pink. he couldn't help but smirk.

his neck tensed, letting john see all of the muscles in a way that made him want to sink his teeth into him right then and there. he didn't miss how his shirt was cropped slightly either, a little bit of skin showing as he reached to scratch at the back of his reddening neck.

gotcha.

“oh. uh, well…thank you.” he mumbled, a nimble finger running up and down the faded strap of his satchel. “nice of you to return ‘em.”

“of course. who wouldn't? i’m sure everyone would want an excuse to talk to you,” john replied, smiling wider. “what’s your name?”

“oh– it’s gale.” he said, gathering himself and making eye contact with john once more. “gale cleven.”

“nice to meet you, gale,” he crooned, holding out a large hand. “i’m john egan. friends call me bucky.”

“nice to meet you,” he said softly, a slight smile crossing his face as he took john’s hand, shaking it firmly. “bucky.”

“good boy,” he said seamlessly, watching as gale’s face went a pale pink once more. “how about you grab a drink with me? i’ll consider us even for the glasses.”

“ah, i’d love to, but,”

he faltered, and john’s heart sank for a moment. he must've overstepped.

“i don't drink. even if i did, i’m 19, so i can’t legally get a drink at bars.”

john shrugged, playing off his miscalculation as he released gale’s hand. “a’ight. how about a bite to eat then?”

gale went quiet, lip twitching once more as he mulled over john’s offer. bucky worried his bottom lip with his teeth in anticipation.

“not today,” gale exhaled. “gotta study, y’know. but i’m free tomorrow?”

“okay. i’m counting on you to keep your word on this.” he purred, flashing him a sly wink as he walked past him, out the door. “see ya tomorrow, gale.”

—---------------------

“so, did you ask him?”

“curt, didn't i say a week?” john huffed, shucking his shirt off and tossing it aside. “you're real impatient, you know that?”

“he's hot.” curt said urgently. “god, if i got a chance to talk to him i’d–”

“i know, which is why i didn't let you talk to him.” john laughed, sitting on the edge of his bed. “you’d scare him off and he'd probably report us or something. it’s happened before.”

“no one's reported us.”

“yet.”

“whatever.” curt sighed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. “did you at least get a name? what color are his eyes? what’s he smell like?”

“gale. gale cleven.” john recalled fondly. “he’s got big baby blues, and he smells real good. like those ridiculously overpriced colognes you love so much. god– his voice is so deep too, curtie.”

“...gale sounds like a chick’s name.”

“curt.”

“what, it does!”

“and you think you’d be able to get him to agree to a threeway? with a mouth like that?” john huffed. “you're such a shit talker.”

“it’s not on purpose, i promise.” he said with a bratty roll of his eyes. “i just think honesty is the best policy. ain’t that a core value or sumn?”

“it is– but not if you’re thinking of telling a cute blonde guy you wanna fuck that his name sounds like a chick’s name.”

“are you gonna tell me it doesn’t? honestly?”

“you just–” john pauses, lips pressed into a flat line. “you shouldn't say it.”

“so you agree!” he cackles, falling back with the force of his raucous laughter. “oh johnny, you're such a hypocrite.”

bucky all but pounced on curt, relishing the little yip that came from him as he was pinned against the shitty little dorm mattress. john’s hand was gripping the front of his hoodie, lifting him up slightly so that their faces were inches apart, breath mingling with one another.

“you've got such a smartass mouth, you know that?” he hissed, staring curt right in his crystal-blue eyes, which were wide with an obvious mix of arousal and fear.

this is what curt got a kick out of- riling bucky up and making him manhandle him. this wouldn't be the first time they had gotten carried away in their little friendly bickering matches, only for john to end up on top of or inside of curt. it was a little arrangement they had. they’d known one another since elementary school, and they'd only grown closer as they grew up.

curt was there for bucky throughout his worst– the drugs, the relapses- he’d seen john at his absolute worst, and he stayed right by his side.

he'd also seen curt at hit lowest, dirty and covered in blood and other fluids that were from men that curt didn't want to name because he was sure ‘they didn't mean it’.

so much they've been through together. so many nights they've spent curled up together- crying, screaming, or just silent.

“yeah?” the boy exhaled, erection poking at the back of bucky’s thigh insistently. “why don't you shut me up then?”

he didn't need anymore permission. bucky pulled his half-hard cock free from his loose basketball shorts, shoving it roughly into curt’s mouth, laughing cruelly as the boy let out a little whiny sigh.

“didn't even gag. how many cocks you suck this week, huh? how many men you let violate your pretty mouth?”

another whine, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he began to lick and suckle at his cock weakly, hands grasping at john’s thighs.

the words were harsh, but he knew it’s what curt liked. he loved being talked about like he was an object- a little plaything for john’s personal gratification.

he rolled his hips forward, smirking as curt gagged slightly at the nudge of john’s cockhead against the back of his throat. spit was running down the corners of his mouth, creating a pretty, messy little picture below him.

“fucking hell, love your mouth.” he sighed, settling into a slow rhythm, savoring the feeling of curt moaning and whimpering around him like a pitiful little puppy. “love when i get to take you like this. you think gale would fill you up like this?”

a downright filthy groan left curt’s mouth at that, nails biting into the plush skin of john’s thighs. bucky laughed throatily. tugging at curt’s damp curls until just his tip was in the warm chasm of his mouth.

“hah….thought he had a chick’s name? bet you don't really care. you’d still moan for his cock like the whore that you are, huh?”

curt’s tongue licked at the weeping head of bucky’s dick, shuddering at the taste of precum drizzling over his pink little tongue. his chest was heaving with each breath he took, eyes almost rolling into the back of his head as john forced him to swallow his cock once more.

“want me to cum down your throat, curtie? gonna imagine that it’s gale?”

a garbled word that sounded like ‘fuck’ escaped the shorter boy’s throat, his nails scratching down his thighs and leaving bloody little marks that would be hard to explain– but he didn't care. his thrusts got sloppier, more frantic as that familiar warmth built at the base of his spine.

“shit–”

he pulled free from curt’s throat with a filthy wet sound, jerking his wet cock as he spilled all over curt’s scrunched up face. his cheeks were pink and wet with a mix of john’s precum and his own spit, which made such a beautiful little picture as his spend was added to it.

they both sat there panting for a bit, before curt shoved him in his chest.

“i said down my throat, asshole.”

john just shrugged, smirking crookedly. “i hear cum is great for your skin. just trying to keep you looking young.”

curt shoved him again, enough to make him stumble off of his chest and onto the floor, which made them both laugh.

“god, now i gotta shower again,” curt huffed, wiping at his face with his hand. “god, you're such a dick.”

“you're welcome,” bucky called out as curt shuffled off to the bathroom, shooting him the finger as he closed the door behind him. he was left laying there, cock still wet and messy with curt’s saliva as his eyes drifted shut. images of gale, spread out below him, flushed and fucked out flashed prettily like a homemade porno behind his eyelids.

tomorrow, he was gonna win that blonde boy over no matter what.

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove

[chiharuhashibira]

Back to you Part 10

Hello! So here is our Part 10~ Firstly, I'm sorry if this took so long. I really need to dedicate myself on work for a while soooo yeah XD

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Taglist:

@unofficialmuilover @sofilsworld @skeleton-the-gangser @ahashiraswife @sharkyy-tm @crazycatlddy

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒀𝒐𝒖

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚇

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐗 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔)

<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

Content Warnings: Curse words, Slightly Suggestive, Verbal Abuse, Neglect, Emotional Trauma, Panic

(Images are not mine. Credits to the rightful owners)

"Hey, I had no idea. Y/N-sensei has a boyfriend!"

Sanemi shot up from his seat when he heard Kanae tell that to him, as he was busy checking the papers. Boyfriend? Did Y/N tell her about us? It's not that I mind, but I thought we agreed to keep our relationship low-key for now.

"Oh, tell me about it." Sanemi said impatiently as he watched Kanae place her bag down on her seat. It felt like hours as Sanemi waited for an answer.

"Oh... I didn't expect that you like gossip, Shinazugawa-sensei."

Sanemi was astounded by her words. He was expecting that Kanae would tell him that Y/N shared things about their relationship, but no. With the surprise on Kanae's face, it is obvious that she still has no idea about them.

Pissed-off, Sanemi clicked his tongue and went to sit at Kanae's desk while glaring at her. "Eh? Just blurt it out," he said with an annoyed tone that made the science teacher chuckle.

"You still haven't changed, Sanemi," she said as she looked up at Sanemi with a look that was so familiar with the man. But then, that same look made Sanemi stand up and repeat his question. Kocho sighed, and finally...

"It was Haga...Ha—"

"Oh, that shitty man."

"You know him? Hey. Hey!"

Without answering Kanae, Sanemi walked out of the room with a vein popping out of his forehead in annoyance.

"Hello class, I need to excuse Y/N-sensei for a while."

"Shinazugawa-sensei?"

You turned to look at the math teacher, slash your lover, when he suddenly entered the room and told your class to excuse you for a while. You raised an eyebrow at him, but eventually you noticed the annoyance on his face, so then you just followed him out of the class.

Just as you stepped out of the room and closed the door behind you, Sanemi suddenly pulled you into a corner where no students usually go. There, he finally let go of your hand and glared at you.

You have no idea why he is mad right now. You didn't know why, because nothing has really happened between the two of you since yesterday. You weren't able to see Sanemi right after his Math Club thing because you were not in the right mental state to do so.

Perhaps he's mad because of that?

"Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"About what, Sanemi?"

"Why do I have to know it from Kanae first?"

"Kanae?" You blinked in confusion as you stared at your lover's glare. A tinge of jealousy usually crawls up your body whenever Sanemi says Kanae's name, but now it was worry. What did she tell him?

"I don't have all day, Y/N. You don't need to play dumb with me."

You gave Sanemi the evil eye for his comment. The tenor of his voice grated on you, and you felt yourself growing irritated. "What's wrong with you?" You asked, trying to stop your voice from revealing your annoyance.

"No. What's wrong with you? Why didn't you tell me that your ex came here yesterday? What's worse is, as per the gossip, he's your boyfriend."

"Sanemi... I can explain..."

"I don't know what else I want to hear from you. As far as I know, these gossips wouldn't be around if you denied them in the first place."

The sharpness of Sanemi's remarks caused your eyes to water. You despise Hotaru so much that you don't want any further contact with him. If you could rewind time to yesterday, you would tell yourself not to be startled by Hotaru's presence. But you were powerless to stop that rage and that dread at the time.

But of course, why would Sanemi listen to you? It's Kanae who told him that, fine.

"Okay."

And it was the last thing you said to him before you turned away. Something about that jolted Sanemi out of his stupor, since he immediately grabbed your hand and prevented you from leaving.

"Hey, I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to sound so harsh."

Your tears were streaming down your face as you swatted his arm and stared into his eyes. "I-I don't know anymore, Sanemi. Perhaps it would be better if you just left me."

Sanemi's eyes widened. He tried to hold your hand again, and when your skins touched, you felt your heart ache. Of course, you don't want Sanemi to leave you, but sometimes it feels like it'll be better, especially when you still haven't been able to free yourself from the clutches of your past.

You were astounded when Sanemi suddenly pulled you into an embrace. He pulled out a bit and looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry... It's just that I'm worried. What if that fucked-up man did something bad to you?"

You didn't answer. You don't have enough strength to do so. So, Sanemi just pulled you into a warm embrace once again, making you feel how much he doesn't want to lose you. "I'm so sorry... I swear, I'll make it up to you, baby." He whispered in your ear as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"Mmm. I'm sorry too." You finally spoke up and wrapped your hands around his body.

The classes ended, and you heard from Shinobu that Sanemi had talked to Kanae about what she told him earlier. The science teacher apologised and felt sorry for you because of what happened. Apparently, Sanemi told them that Hotaru was a creepy stalker. So then, the lady felt guilty that she didn't do anything yesterday.

You reassured them that everything would be fine. Of course, you didn't give a hoot about the tattletales. You were completely preoccupied by your feelings for Sanemi. You didn't want his ex's harsh words to drive a wedge between you. So, you were thankful that the man had fixed the mess.

Now, there you are, on the bed, entangled with Sanemi. Since you missed your monthsary yesterday, the man has taken steps to make amends today. When he could help it, he refrained from bringing up Hotaru at all.

Instead, Sanemi, while brushing your hair with his fingers, finally spoke up in a low voice. "Babe, would it be better if we stopped being low-key? Like, look at Obanai and Kanroji."

You were astounded by his question. He agreed on separating your personal lives from work, but now he wanted to spill the tea to everyone. Is there something that is bothering him again?

It's not that you didn't want to. Of course, you're proud of him as your boyfriend, but you're just quite scared that it may have an effect on how you will be perceived, especially if almost all people want him back with Kanae.

But still, you dropped that thought and kissed his lips, making him chuckle. "Babe, I'm serious. I don't like the thought of you being linked with other people."

Oh, is it because of Hotaru? You looked at the ceiling and sighed. "Sanemi, is this because of what happened yesterday?"

"No... I mean. It's one of the reasons, but another thing is that I want people to know that you're mine."

"I want that too, babe." You said, giving him a sad smile. "But what if people hate me? You know that almost all people at school want you to be back with... Kanae."

The insecurity's getting higher again, and Sanemi sensed this. So he went on top of you and kissed your lips. "Nah, ignore them. I wouldn't go back with Kanae even if they built a cult or something." He said that, making you frown. Sanemi perceived that as if his words weren't enough, so he moved slowly, sliding inside of you, which made you bite your lip.

"I wouldn't be buried deep within you, baby, if I desired another girl. I only want... you."

After he whispered that to your ear, the room was suddenly filled with the sounds of pleasure that came out of both of you. And yes, beneath the sensation, you also felt happy that Sanemi's still here, loving you.

Giyu walked down the alley with his hands in his pockets. It's been an hour since he arrived at the place, and that made him bored to the point that he took out a cigarrette from his pocket and lit it up.

There are times when he relapses from his previous vice, which was smoking. And that time is now, as he continues to wait patiently for someone. And there, finally, as he took the first puff, he heard a voice.

"What do you want, Tomioka?"

He looked at the man, and there he was, with his golden-orange eyes. Anger suddenly filled Giyu as he threw his newly lit cigarrete and stepped on it, crushing it with the sole of his shoe.

Hotaru's intimidating aura didn't affect him at all. And he knows the other man isn't affected by his intimidation either. So, to make this conversation quick, Giyu finally walked closer to Hotaru and spoke up.

"If you ever lay a finger on Y/N again, I'll be ripping your goddamn hands off of you."

"Oh scary."

Hotaru's mocking made Tomioka angrier, so he pulled the man by his collar and pinned him to the wall. Giyu is much younger than Hotaru, but his strength is exceptional, which even shocked the other man.

"I mean it. Fucker." He said that and pushed Hotaru against the wall after letting go of him.

Hotaru fixed his top and glared at Tomioka. "What did I do? I just told Y/N that I love her."

"And you also tried to start rumours about you being her boyfriend. Don't you realise that she doesn't love you anymore?"

"And that's because you ruined our relationship in the first place!"

Hotaru was about to punch Tomioka in the face when suddenly,

"Oi, what's the matter here?"

A familiar voice echoed in the alley. And there, just as Hotaru brought his hand back to his side, the speaker's image became clearer in Tomioka's eyes. "Iguro-san..."

"Tomioka's a piece of garbage, so why are you trying to harm him? I don't care about your issues, but as a person living around this area, if you try to punch him again, I'll definitely make you rethink your decisions."

Hotaru clicked his tongue and pushed Tomioka away. Before stepping out of the alley, he spoke up in a menacing tone. "I'll take back what's mine."

Sighing, Obanai sauntered to Tomioka and gave him a critical look. "What the fuck are you doing here? Done messing with your miserable existence? Don't make a mess here, Tomioka."

"I don't need your litany, Iguro-san."

"Then, leave. I don't care if you're Shinazugawa's new buddy. I'll still beat you to plump if you cross my way."

"Then you're going to be beating the wrong person, you fool. That man tries to ruin the relationship of your so-called friend. And oops, I think you still don't know about that."

Tomioka smirked at Obanai, trying to mock him, which certainly worked. But then, it wasn't what he had expected.

"Now you caught my attention. Tell me more about this shit."

Obanai said that made Tomioka shrug his shoulders. This will be a long story, but this man is Sanemi's friend. He had seen him almost fighting with Hotaru, so why deny it? Besides, perhaps Obanai could help his friend with this little problem about their pasts.

𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅…

Whew!

After a loooong week! I am back with this story XD

And Obanai is here! How would he contribute on this story? XD I know Sanemi can solve his problems but, wouldn't it be cute for him to have his little Charlie's Angels in the embodiment of Tomioka and Obanai? What a weird pair yes XD But this will be all for you~

And what is it with Kanae's longing look for Sanemi? Hmmmmm!

Lots of things to unveil before the most awaited ending of this story!

Requests are open!!

Ja ne~

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

<𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫>

[tinandabin]

Koi No Yokan

Special 2K event...

Ch-1....

________

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

NAME: Y/N L/N

AGE: 15

GENDER: FEMALE

VISION: ANEMO

"Alright. This is your profile, right?" The lady at the reception asked you, her glasses glinting in the light. The office she was in was pristine. Too pristine for a school, you would say. Everything was organized and clean, hell, even the dustbin didn't feel like a dustbin. It was too clean to be a dustbin.

Miniature plants and decorations were littered around her desk. You could hear her typing away at the computer. Her fingers moved elegantly, as she pulled up some more details about you. "And... You're transferring here from [School Name], correct?" You nodded, sitting upright.

"Great." She muttered. She looked at the calendar and clicked her tongue. "Since the summer break is going on currently, we don't accept students. But... We can make an exception for you. You'll be free to attend the extra classes during summer break, to catch up on the course... " She rummaged through some documents, pulling out a neat piece of paper. "You'll be given your timetable soon. Welcome to Teyvat Academy. " She smiled, although it was devoid of any emotion.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." You smiled back awkwardly, your fingers fiddling with your vision, hanging loosely around your thigh.

"Ah, I almost forgot. You must be aware, I assume. I'll inform you, though. Teyvat academy offers 5 subjects which are compulsory, regardless of your vision. " She opened a booklet, pushing it towards you over the desk.

You grabbed the booklet, looking through it. The 5 subjects were those you have heard of. Combat training, maths, science, linguistics and of course, history. All students had to study these, regardless of whatever their vision is. But the 6th subject offers option to students. You have alchemy, sword-fighting, archery, flying (for Anemo students only), and last but not but least, witchcraft. Alright, witchcraft sounds evil.

But now, the question is, what will you, dear reader, choose? Choose carefully, now. Your choice will pave your path to... many odd individuals.

[zipstidbits]

hi zip! 👋 i'm just really curious about how you got into astrophysics 👀 and what careers interest you in that field if you don't mind sharing ☺️ i just think it's so cool, but like, in the way of someone who knows absolutely nothing about astrophysics except that it's probably really hard and also rockets 😛🚀 have a lovely day! 💞

hi zesty!!!!! thanks so much for asking, i don't mind sharing at all :))))

how i got into astrophysics:

both my parents are second-generation americans so education/college was always The Big Goal growing up. this translated to my parents really emphasizing math and science skills and i got really interested in science this way. (the post-cold war american cultural emphasis on science as a whole probably contributed to this as well, lmao.)

i ended up momentarily ditching the science dream because i started struggling with math in middle school. i can do it, but my adhd means i struggle to hold numbers in my head (do mental math) and sometimes i can be slow/need to write things out more than others/make silly mistakes/and then get bogged down by imposter syndrome. this was like 10+ years ago so i had zero diagnoses and minimal support so i hopped onto the anti-math train.

i never stopped liking science though. i want to know everything and imo, science contains the answers to everything and is how we'll learn all that is unknown right now. once i hit high school and science class started having a shit ton more math i started to view math differently. it became the whole 'the enemy (math) of my enemy (the unknown) is my friend' thing. thankfully, math, when applied to physics concepts, makes more sense than when in a pure math class, so this became a very doable arrangement.

i also started consuming a lot more pop-science/science in the news around this time. neil degrasse tyson, the one astrophysics class i took in high school, and my dad who played a lot of star trek and pbs space videos on youtube to bond with me opened my mind to the most beautiful thing ever (space). i just think it's the coolest thing ever and the unknowns are so cool and i want to know what's going on up there so bad!!!!

this (and some spite*) led me to apply to college for a BS in physics. doing just physics and not astrophysics was sort of a safety net because i thought i'd really like particle physics too but it turns out quantum mechanics is evil and fucked up so i chose to stick with astrophysics as my concentration, lmao.

*i felt like a lot of my peers in high school assumed i couldn't do this because i wasn't naturally good at math/physics and i took a little more time and effort (i spent a lot of early mornings and afternoons in help sessions, lmao) and a part of me wanted to prove them wrong.

then, this past fall/winter, i applied for a bunch of astrophysics phd programs because i've thankfully got a BS degree and i've made my mind up on what i want to do in life (study/learn about space). i got rejected from 7 out of the 8 schools i applied to which was terrible in the moment but great now because i didn't really have to choose what program to accept, lmaoooooooooooo.

careers that interest me:

i very much enjoy teaching (i was a teaching assistant this year) and i would really like to continue it. i could probably do that in most research jobs by mentoring others in a lab/research setting but also being a professor sounds really cool and appealing to me since i could do research and traditional teaching, lmao.

i'm kind of willing to give most astrophysics research jobs a try, i think? the only line i'd really draw is i don't want to work anywhere near the american military-industrial complex for moral reasons

thank you again for asking zesty!!!! sorry for rambling so much and i hope you have a lovely day as well!!! <33333

[sillyclowncircus]

Oh no, silly brain rot

@o-i-w-u come get some gore

Au where the tsams characters all work at a school- but ya know me, murder murder murder- so uhm- everyone has a small twinge of evil- or a lot

And all the kids are orphans to explain why no one notices kids missing

Ack- murder school

Uuuhm- gore mention besties

Tw: gore, murder, death, children death, esting flesh, EVERYONE IS MURDERERS

Sun does art classes :D he really enjoys painting the most, and red just happens to be his favorite color! And who else but those misbehaving students to provide him with that red paint his loves so much? Whats a little loss of a misbehaving student for the cost of art after all? Besides, hes been teaching these kids for 3 months now! If their art hasnt improved yet, what use are they to him but paint providers?

Moon! Going with that basic bitch science teacher for him. He enjoys science and loves it even! It's such a nice pass time for him, something he can relax while doing! Thats why its so annoying when one of the students have to mess up his relaxation time! How could a student be so stupid to mix ammonia and bleach!? Some students just have to learn by being the victim of their own failed experiments... even if it results in a little death sometimes.

Killcode is a gym teacher. After all, who but the fast predator to be one? Kill code is well aware that he scares the students, and he thrives on that terror. He loves to give students difficult tasks. What does he care that you're getting ropeburn from climbing that 20 foot(about 6 meters, i think-) rope? If you fall, then you best get up and run and keep running til someone else falls, or you're going to find yourself torn to pieces to feed his family and other students.

Earth does both cooking and gardening! She loves planting things! Especially things like Castor Beans, Winter Daphne, and Dendrocnide moroides! She has a love for plants that are dangerous and well... dont be surprised if a Castor Bean seed ends up in your food if you happen to be rude to one of her favorite students. Earth may not like killing, but she does like knowing punishments have been given, even if it results in death. She pften cooks the meat of dead students so it doesn't go to waste. It is a shame to waste such good meat after all... and meat is good plant fertilizer.

Lunar does zoology! He brings animals into the school and lets the students meet them! Who cares if last weeks wolf killed a kid? Not Lunar, he's metal. The wolf couldn't hurt him! The raccoon had rabies, and it bit you? Well, the only way to tell with animals is cutting their head off and sending it to the lab, so say by to your head and off to Moon's lab it goes! And if he so happens to take you outside and into the woods within the schools the 3 miles of fencing? He's just there to feed the animals he keeps, and you happen to be the meal.

Bloodmoon does anatomy! If a body comes in whole, they'd use it to carve ooen and show their class, maybe eat an organ or two. When there's not one? Well... no one is gonna miss that short kid in the back, right? It would be fun to cut open a live one and let their students see a heart pumping, lungs drawing their last breaths.

BM1(Bloody) he especially loves the gore, he personally loves the live students to work on, finding the dead ones boring since they don't squirm and scream. He prides himself in making the students both terrified but intrigued

BM2(Harvest) prefers working on the dead bodies. The struggle of the live ones annoys him, too squirmy, too wriggly. Tho he does hate the cold feeling of the dead bodies, so sometimes he just kills a student the moment they walk in class to have a warm cadaver to work on.

SolarFlare teaches both math and reading. Personally, he doesn't like killing that much... but someone getting answers wrong irks him. He's worked so hard with these students for months, and that can't spell something simple that 'Knowledge' correctly? Or what 2544 ÷ 48 is? It's 53! They aren't worth his time, and he doesn't feel that another teacher should waste their time either. So he kills them, his go-to method being to break their necks so its quick and not too messy.

Solar is the janitor and technician. He's just... tired. There is too much cleaning to do, too many dead kids, and most of all... ugh, Eclipse is annoying. But he doesn't break his role of janitor, knowing that he really has nothing outside this school anyways, so whose gonna judge him for snapped and punching a student who annoys him? No one. At least he's not killing... or if he is, no one noticed... It's amazing what hydrogen peroxide can clean out of clothes after all.

Eclipse is the principal. He doesn't mind all the killing, but he prefers not to get his hands dirty. It's enertaining to watch students come complaining to him, though. He will kill, tho. A student breaming too many rules, making too many messes, out with no hall pass... those who break rules have no place in his eyes. So a quick death should do fine. But if there's one he just particularly hates... He's happy to take his time to peel off someone's skin

[princess-of-the-corner]

And yet again, MORE Random Fanfic Quotes!

whatashayme: anyone: [brings up greek mythology]

whatashayme: keith: I AM AWAKE

*

lanceylance: because it’s funny!!!! because the turntables!!

princesssparklepants: well make like the clocks and turn them back!!!!

*

carrierpidgeon: at long last, the evil is defeated

kkogane: the evil is never defeated, just asleep

*

kkogane: and history. today’s bullshit is that pericles is a little bitch and socrates got what was coming for him

carrierpidgeon: elaborate

kkogane: motherfucker died because he thought “i can’t help that i’m wiser than all of u and u just wish u were me” would hold up in court

*

kissthehunk: to the government agent monitoring our group chat for all intents and purposes everything in here is a joke please i am begging

*

princesssparklepants: last night made me feel an emotion with the same energy as euphoria but like. halfway across the spectrum

*

theromellanempire: she is OUT of my LEAGUE

theromellanempire: WE’RE IN TWO TOTALLY DIFFERENT SPORTS

kkogane: and who said she’s not a superfan of your sport?

*

kkogane: romelle and i are like soulmates but instead of romantic soulmates we are mortal enemies

*

carrierpidgeon: no, precalc killed me, i’m texting from beyond the grave

shayfromstatefarm: you can’t make death jokes about math, it’s only first period

carrierpidgeon: my patience for this class, much like this limit, does not exist

*

carrierpidgeon: but it’s not a party

mattata: just go with it

allurable: so do we need supplies??? i’ve got room in my car for four other people to go party shopping with me

carrierpidgeon: IT’S NOT A PARTY??

hunkerdunker: it’ll just be like…a squad hangout session

shayfromstatefarm: a friendly gathering

takashmeoutside: a casual meeting of acquaintances

mattata: but decidedly /not/ a party

*

lanceylance: i’m a bisexual put on ur fuckin bifocals pidgey

*

carrierpidgeon: my virgin eyes have seen the darkest reaches of the internet, my asexual ass just doesn’t want any of your bisexual bodaciousness

*

hunkerdunker: fucking criminy you know what can we drop this subject

shayfromstatefarm: can i drop every class i have then

*

lanceylance: why did i tell him

shayfromstatefarm: because you were exercising a healthy relationship by openly communicating about any situation that may cause problems, instead of bottling everything up for the sake of appearing strong to your partner and not hurting them

*

lanceylance: :)))))) hunk, the light of all of our lives, chef extraordinaire, a gordon ramsay among paula deens

*

kogayne: YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD

takashmeoutside: AT THE RATE YOU’RE GIVING ME GRAY HAIRS I MAY AS WELL BE

*

mattata: it’s called a JOKE gremlin

carrierpidgeon: so that thing mom made when she gave birth to you

mattata: yeah, it was such a good joke that she wanted an encore, so she made you

*

kogayne: sincerely, from the bottom of my cold little heart, fuck you

lanceylance: why did you text me, your room is across the hall

kogayne: I DIDN’T THINK YOU’D GET THIS UNTIL MORNING IT’S 3 AM WHY ARE YOU AWAKE

lanceylance: i dunno if you noticed but i’m CONGESTED I CAN’T FRICK-FRACKIN BREATHE

*

takashmeoutside: keith and i are sickypants2

kogayne: no, only i get that nickname, be gone, germyjeans

*

shayfromstatefarm: everything is due all at once happiness doesn’t exist hell is empty and all the devils have teaching degrees

*

carrierpidgeon: and this one girl is like “yeah so we learned about icarus the other day and my sister started yelling about the broken physics behind it” and the other girl is like “well what does she expect it’s a mYTH” and like they kept going back and forth but instantly sherrie and i are like PHYSICS??? SCIENCE??? ENLIGHTEN US ON WHAT SISTER DEAR HAD TO SAY

(…)

carrierpidgeon: so emily’s telling us about sarah

carrierpidgeon: and how sarah went and actually researched the physics behind the myth and essentially, the entire myth is fuckin broken

allurable: INTELLECTUALS

carrierpidgeon: k so y’all know about daedalus, right

carrierpidgeon: created the labyrinth, he and his son icarus got punished, and now they’re breaking free

(…)

carrierpidgeon: so basically they made wings out of feathers and wax and were gonna fly across the ocean

carrierpidgeon: icarus had simple instructions: go the middle route. literally, just stay in ur fuckin lane

carrierpidgeon: don’t fly too close to the sun, or else the wax will melt

lanceylance: fuckin apollo

carrierpidgeon: and don’t fly too close to the ocean, bc your wings will get wet and you can’t fly, which, sure, that bit of physics makes sense

carrierpidgeon: but apparently em told this story to sarah

carrierpidgeon: and sarah was like “wait…wait did they say the higher u get…the hotter it gets?”

hunkerdunker: ah

shayfromstatefarm: AH

kogayne: BECAUSE THE UPPER ATMOSPHERE IS COLDER AND THE AIR IS THINNER

carrierpidgeon: YES

carrierpidgeon: so sarah looked into this and, first of all, apparently some university kids have actually written a paper on this, so

lanceylance: fuckin millennials

hunkerdunker: i love nerds

carrierpidgeon: second, the other issue that sarah had was that

carrierpidgeon: “wax and feathers are both lighter than water…they float…if he had fucking WINGS shouldn’t he have floated and not drowned”

carrierpidgeon: which should hold true, as long as he didn’t land face down

carrierpidgeon: BUT THEN she was like “mmm but how did he fall in the first place”

carrierpidgeon: her conclusion was that the only way for icarus to have fallen and drowned was for him to have passed out from being up too high

*

kogayne: YOU DIDN’T FINISH EITHER HUNK WE’RE ALL IN THIS BOAT TOGETHER AND INSTEAD OF BLOWING NEW HOLES LET’S PATCH THE ONES WE ALREADY HAVE

*

shayfromstatefarm: CALCULATE MY FINAL VELOCITY IF I JUMP OFF OF THE SCHOOL ROOF FROM REST

*

lanceylance: i came into this world screaming and i will be buried the same way

*

carrierpidgeon: commentary from the sound booth:

carrierpidgeon: “we need to turn her mic down unless we wanna go deaf”

carrierpidgeon: “his mic is all the way up and we still can’t hear him so who volunteers to read his lines while he lip-syncs”

carrierpidgeon: “this is the most hideous lighting we’ve had since….midsummer” “midsummer was our last show” “did i fucking stutter”

carrierpidgeon: “can we just let the seniors do the whole show”

carrierpidgeon: “the next time flotsam misses her cue i’m going to run on that stage and be flotsam myself”

carrierpidgeon: “does grimsby…actually…even know his lines” “that’s…u can’t be serious oF COURSE HE DOESN’T”

*

lanceylance: U MISS UR CALLBACK OR U MISS UR CUE UR DIRECTOR SHOULD BE FIRING U

*

takashmeoutside: no u know what we’re gonna go nonchalant white dad on this 

(Said in response to finding younger sibling made a hole in the wall)

*

takashmeoutside: excuse me i was a Perfect Gentleman

kogayne: “was” damn right what happened

*

kogayne: how do i put this in a way u musical fuckers will appreciate

takashmeoutside: oh no

kogayne: ~on the first day of pride month some asshole gave to me, a harsh reminder of reality~

*

Tinydick: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY YOU LITTLE GREMLIN

Tinydick: I’LL DROP KICK YOU SO HARD YOU’LL GO FLYING INTO THE ORBIT OF FUCKING JUPITER

Tinydick: DOES EUROPA HAVE LIFE UNDER ITS SURFACE

Tinydick: WELL PIDGE IS ABOUT TO FIND OUT

*

Lancei still cant believe i saw his mullet in personit stared me dead in the eyethat mullet came into my house and threatened the lives of my children

*

Princess: so I judo flipped him 

RazzleDazzle: you should’ve seen it

Hunky: he bounced like a rock skipping on water

-

A beautiful compilation.

[queer-reader-07]

I assume that when you're in the right headspace (rested, watered, etc) you're one of those people that's actually excited to go to class

yes and no. depends on the class. even on a good day i am dragging myself to any and every math class i've ever taken (a necessary but painful evil in my life).

but like, chemistry? i am practically skipping my way to class, i love that shit. i never dislike going but it's like 10 times better on a good mental health day.

and then when it comes to any social studies or humanities class it is fully dependent on if i signed up for it willingly or am being made to take it for the credit. political science made me want to rip my hair out, history is more fun.

send me assumptions!

[noomycatz]

Are they a human, ghoul, synth, or something else?

if you can call a lobotomite a human

Are they a canon main character? (Lone Wander, Courier Six, etc.)

formerly the sixth courier for the mojave express, #1 courier in their eyes

What is their SPECIAL?

S 2(-), P 3 (-), E 8, C 1, 10 1 (-), A 10, L 1

What perks or tagged skills do they have?

cannibal, robotics expert, brainless, bloody mess

What is their highest skill? Lowest?

speech(-)/science(+)

Were they born pre-war or post-war?

post-war!

Do they wish they lived before the war / could go back to life before the war?

no, but they’d definitely like to rewind the recent past

Did they live in a vault? If not, have they been inside of one?

no, but they’ve seen vault 21

Where did they grow up? Where do they currently reside?

grew up in a small tribal community somewhere in nevada, now resides in sanctuary

What languages) do they speak?

english, spanish, and robco termlink

What type of education have they received?

very little, got freaking clockwork oranged at big mt

Can they read, write, and/or do math?

cannot read, writing is poor, shit at math

What is the most frightening experience they have endured?

the second battle of the hoover dam

What is their fondest memory?

meeting yes man <3

What is their proudest moment / accomplishment?

not applicable

What is their biggest regret

fighting for the legion

Do they have a job? How do they make a living?

formerly a courier, now they go adventuring with sir blaze

Do they have any disabilities, mutations, or implants / enhancements? Do they have any chronic illnesses?

brain removed, replaced by a tesla coil.

Who (or what) are they emotionally closest to?

if you can call it emotionally close, sir blaze

Who do they consider to be their family?

they’re dead. all of them.

Do they travel alone or with a companion?

traveled with rex, left him at big mt. acquaintances with boone for a short while before leaving to join the legion. they now travel with sir blaze!

Do they have any pets?

GARY!!

How do they feel about physical touch / affection?

they fear intimacy of any kind

Do they have a romantic partner or partners?

^^^

Are they quick to trust others?

NOT AT ALL. in order to gain their trust you must defeat the seven evil exes /ref

How would others describe them / their disposition?

insane. not even a person, really.

What faction(s) are they a member of / allied with?

formerly of the legion, now of the minutemen

What faction(s) do they despise?

LEGION.

What is their moral alignment / karma?

negative karma, chaotic neutral

What decisions have they made or actions have they done that affect their canon wasteland? (Did they blow up Megaton, have they killed/spared any major characters, etc.)

lost the second battle of the hoover dam, ncr driven out of most territories and legion EVERYWHERE. also the big mt might have escaped, unsure

What is their goal in life? What impact would they like to leave when they're gone?

What is their go-to weapon or weapon class?

melee: saturnite fist/ legion gladius.

What is their fight-or-flight response?

flight. they’re good at rubbing

What armor / clothing do they typically wear?

always wear bennys suit. it’s filthy. while in big mt they wore a lobotomite coat over it.

Do they have power armor training? (° j°)

a little

Have they ever saved someone's life? Have they ever killed someone?

they have killed many.

What is the worst injury they have

bullet to the head

What is their favorite radio station?

mr new vegas

What is their favorite song?

I GOT SPURSSS THAT JINGLE JANGLE JINGLE

What is their favorite type of weather?

really sunny

What is their favorite time of the day?

noon

What is their favorite wasteland creature?

RADROACH!!!

What is their favorite meal and drink?

mentats and vodka

What is their favorite smell?

half a quart of paint

Do they have any specific hobbies or talents?

they like catching and collecting bugs

Do they play any sports? How about board games or card games?

they tried caravan once and cried because it was too hard

Do they enjoy reading?

pickle can’t read..

Do they collect anything?

mentats…

What items) do they always have on their person?

multifarious gladius’s, mentats, dinky souvenirs

Do they travel by foot or by other means?

always by foot.

Do they own a Pip-boy? If so, how did they get it?

they have a PIMPboy thank you very much

Can they swim?

they drown. instantly.

What do they think of the ocean?

scary.. i dont know

Do they prefer showers or baths?

they dont bathe.

Are they past, present, or future oriented?

stuck in the past trying to see the present

How do they feel about robots? (Eyebots, Mister Handys, Sentry Bots, etc.)

😏

What is a sensation / texture they cannot stand?

sand underneath their fingernails

Do they believe in luck? Do they have a good luck charm?

they do not

Do they idolize anything / anyone?

caesar, formerly

Are they religious? Spiritual?

there is no hope for them in whatever god they choose

What are their thoughts on chems and alcohol?

I LOVE CHEMS!!! ALCOHOL!! YIPPIIE

Do they have any weaknesses or struggle with any vices?

chems.. alcohol.. yuppie…

Do they need / wear glasses?

wear them for funsies, may or may not be nearsighted

How / where do they generally sleep?

on a pile of mentat tins, sometimes visited by nightmares but usually like a rock

Describe their living space. (How do they decorate it? Does it have running water and/or electricity? Etc.)

average sanctuary house, filled to the brim of mentats. decorated by sir blaze

Describe their eyes.

permanently tinted red from the sheer amount of chems they consume

[kohakhearts]

when people first meet me and inquire about my studies im generally hit with two different responses, being 1) “wow, that’s an unusual combination”/“you don’t see that often”/etc. and 2) “you must be SO smart!” (or its evil twin, “you must hate yourself ha-ha”), and while the first is obviously a better response than the second, both are kinda…awkward to react to.

like? IS it an unusual combination of interests, or is it actually that most institutions make it exceptionally difficult for people to pursue stem and arts concurrently? and that we don’t often talk about the heavy crossover between stem and the arts because we’re so culturally obsessed with this notion that the world is split into Art People and Science People (also known as English People and Math People)?

and how would my interest in a science make me any smarter than someone in my program who chose to pursue a minor in history instead of physics? also, NO, i don’t hate myself. obviously taking stem classes after spending years believing im “not a math person” has lowered my gpa, but that’s not really something i care about, because at the end of the day i find the subject endlessly fascinating and i enjoy my classes very much, and i get better at math every semester because i have no choice. because it’s just…a method of communication. it’s a language. you practice, you improve - but you have to be consistent and intentional about it. the same way you have to be consistent and intentional about analyzing fictional texts and historical documents.

which is to say that like. you are using the same skills. i tutored a high school student last year who looked at me like i was crazy for saying that close reading a short story is functionally the same as solving an algebra problem. you collect like terms. then you compare and contrast them to make a statement about them - it’s human nature to seek refuge in what is familiar even if it is simultaneously traumatic, or x = 2 and y = -2. you can chart it, you can graph it, you can draw it. listen, isn’t there something so inherently beautiful about the word integral? it’s something intrinsic, baked into a person or a thing - the fundamental values formed within you by tiny, infinitesimal pieces: moments, experiences - they coalesce into something completely different, but still. you can go back. you can find the pieces. define them, pick them apart, put them together again in new ways. expand them, contract them, equate them to something else just to understand them.

half the study of mathematics is called analysis, for god’s sake. what is the study of art if not analysis? is it not the goal of the artist, the writer, to make sense of our place in the world? and is this not what we do in physics, too? look at the world and try to find reason in it? as the poet spends their life trying to make the intangible tangible, the particle physicist attempts to study dark matter. when we form a sentence, we utilize a complex system of equations that are so second-nature to us we don’t even register that’s what we’re doing - but there’s a reason this branch of linguistics is called syntactic calculus.

like…believe me. if you told my teenage self i’d be taking calculus-based courses in university, i wouldn’t have believed it. i teach high school students now who tell me they know they aren’t good at english, but it doesn’t matter to them because they do so well in math. and i get it. i do. but it’s disappointing, too, because i think my knowledge of math has made me a better reader and writer. and it feels like most people are missing out on that connection, because they feel like it’s impossible to make. but any experimentalist can tell you there’s an art to the scientific process. any musician or poet can tell you that great art is dictated by numbers - rhythm, rhyme and metre, all of it. the only group of people as interested in conceptual symmetry as physicists are artists.

anyway, all i’m saying is like - one is not more essential than the other, these things are inextricably linked, these things are as fundamental to human existence as breathing. there’s a reason why astronomers defer to shakespeare to name newly discovered bodies in space, you know? we've all gotta learn to love the math in our art and the artistry behind math.