#grading hate mail
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ljbrary · 2 months ago
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Omg your prof is so so cool I wish I had people like her in my college
By writings by terrorists do you mean the thorn and the carnation by chance?? That's a very well written book
Hopefully you'll get bullied to death if you try to do anything to her
I’m not going to lie to you that literally just sounds like ACOTAR fanfiction.
Anyway, I really hope you take constructive criticism, otherwise this will be awkward.
Your review:
Delivery: 3/10
Okay grammar, but where was the punctuation? Not a comma, period, nor even a semicolon in sight. You said you’re in college, right? I highly recommend a Language Arts class… Two points for separating your ideas into different paragraphs for ease of reading; one point for the question marks.
Creativity: 0/15
Sweetie. Death threats to the Jews are like so last century. That’s already been done before ad nauseam so PLEASE, for the love of all things holy, get some new material. The only reason this isn’t negative points is the shock factor, I literally haven’t heard a bullying threat as an insult since probably the first grade. Even my middle school brother comes up with better than that. A good shakespearean insult should do the trick next time.
Word Choice: -1/10 ???
Like actually zero effort there. It had to be negative points I’m sorry. Your repetition of “so so” and use of “very well” really sold me on the fact that you’ve never opened a thesaurus. They have them online for free, you know. Here: https://www.merriam-webster.com/thesaurus?utm_source=google&utm_campaign=thesaurus&utm_medium=cpc&gad_source=1
Literary Devices: 1/15
Okay, you get some credit here for conveying a tiny bit of sarcasm which I can appreciate. But other than that this wasn’t very fun to read :/
Other notes:
1. Reading the room is obviously a bit of a struggle for you, but that’s okay! I’ll help you out: nobody asked <3
2. The choice to suggest a book by Sinwar was kind of strange because nobody mentioned that along with the fact that he is responsible for the deaths of thousands of Palestinians, so you would think that would be something you would care about but I guess not?
3. The choice to go anonymous really sold the vibes on this one tbh
Grade: 3/50 = 6%. Oh. Damn. Sorry that sucks, but like I’m sure you can go back to your ACOTAR fanfiction comfort read no need to worry.
Hope this helped ❤️
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qaylorswiftieprime · 1 year ago
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wdym Tswift is gay? She was Jack Antonoffing penis for like 6 years
not even funny hate mail
you could have said jacking Anton off for 6 years and it wouldn't be so clumsy. 3 out of 10 Stars try again sweaty
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heich0e · 10 months ago
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mentor!Sukuna probably sits Yuuta down and holds an initiation ritual through 盃事 and Yuuta just goes, “S-sir, I can’t drink alcohol yet 🥲🥲”
and then he does this again after he’s mentored Yuuta for a few years, but this time, it’s a succession ceremony :’>>
STOP THIS IS SO CUTE!! HE'S LIKE A SECOND LITTLE BROTHER TO HIM!! IM GONNA CRY
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wanderingmind867 · 13 days ago
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Okay, Rick. You made Magnus Chase the least relatable character ever, and yet somehow I don't hate his perspective. I just hate his taste in fiction, his hobbies, his…well, everything, really. But I kind of feel like explaining more. So let's break down how Magnus Chase is someone almost opposite to me. And again: I do like his perspective. We do have a few things in common. But we're also very different, so it's impressive I can empathize with him so well. I think.
Things about Magnus Chase:
He loves the outdoors
he likes these graphic novels: Sandman by Neil Gaiman, Watchmen by Alan Moore
I'd always found it hard to sleep indoors unless I had total darkness and nothing to distract me. (Quote from him somewhere around chapter 10).
He likes Horror Fiction: He mentions loving Stephen King.
He's almost incredibly independent. He does everything for himself, probably because he grew up homeless. But it's hard to relate to. Because as I mention below, independence is something I strongly lack.
Things about Me:
I hate being out in nature. Why would I want to be out in a muggy forest with bugs and heat!? I'd much rather take a beautiful library or manor over the outdoors. Nature is only good in photography. And that's something I will admit: I love nature from a distance. But camping? Doing all this outdoor stuff? Oh...oh, no. Not for me.
I hate Alan Moore's writing, and I want to kill Neil Gaiman 50 different ways. The man gave me my first childhood nightmares, and I will not ever forgive him for that. Watchmen sounds like it had potential, but every character was awful (besides maybe doctor manhattan). And anything Neil Gaiman touches turns to kindling in my eyes. Gods, I hate that f***ing man.
I can't sleep in total darkness and silence. It freaks me out. I start imagining things in the dark, and I get panicky and nervous. I need sound and light to sleep. I fall asleep every night to the same DVD of The Flintstones, with the volume low enough so it won't keep me awake. For years, this has been my routine. It works for me.
I despise horror fiction. It scares me and messes me up mentally. Stephen King was someone my mom loved, and i'll simply never understand why.
I'm the opposite of dependent. I'm severely dependent on my dad. My dad gets my water. He cooks for me. He helps me with my clothes sometimes. He runs my baths. He does everything for me. So no. I am not independent, and I really don't know how i'll ever handle actually being independent.
So…yeah. Magnus Chase is the opposite of me in every way. His storytelling perspective is funny, but it's kind of hard to relate to someone this different from you. Leo Valdez had a lot of the same character traits as Magnus, but he speaks to me so much more! Leo was in foster care a lot (which is close enough to homelessness while being different from it), he lost his mom and ran from the problem with humour too. But where Leo has his love for machines (which is relatable), Magnus has this love of Nature (which is frankly, not very relatable). I'm gonna keep going with this book, but I just felt like getting this all off my chest.
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scentofpines · 3 months ago
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i walked past my fav prof again this morning and this time i didnt just get a "hello :)" NO i got a "hello miss [my last name] :)" 😭
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phatcatphergus · 1 year ago
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Btw I'm not even friends w imnotasweetie it's just secondhand embarrassing watching a fellow tubbling be such an obsessed freak over some random person on the internet. Like good god. What are you 12.
Why? you wanna bully a minor some more? 🤨
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fagonardo · 1 year ago
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Faggot
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lovphobic · 2 years ago
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*wafts hair dye at you* blue
u think i would go blue??? girlie im going red
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roosterforme · 11 months ago
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.
Warnings: Fluff, language
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him. 
He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.
The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.
Jayden,
It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.
Violet,
You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it. 
Oliver,
Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.
Lt. Bradley Bradshaw
The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.
After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.
The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.
I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.
Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.
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You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.
As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing. 
"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.
I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.
Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject. 
When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"
"The president!" 
"My grandma!"
"My Cocker Spaniel!"
"Oliver's grandma!"
You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"
And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back. 
You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment. 
And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.
"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it. 
Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.
"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."
You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.
As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.
Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,
We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.
I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.
You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you. 
But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.
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It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her. 
Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.
He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.
But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it. 
The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."
"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"
Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.
He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.
"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."
After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt. 
If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.
I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.
It was nice hearing from you.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw 
As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?
"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email. 
-----------------------------
You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.
The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.
You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind. 
When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.
"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"
You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"
It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him. 
"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."
Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions. 
"Is that really his jet?"
"Is that the throttle?"
"What do all the buttons do?"
"Was this right before he flew it?"
Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight. 
"His helmet is so cool!"
"It says Rooster!"
"That's his call sign!"
"Red is my favorite color!"
You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."
You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"
You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."
Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now. 
Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.
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This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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landopoet · 15 days ago
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somewhere in between.
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pairing lando x reader, university au
synopsis in which lando falls victim to an irresistible and mysterious girl, who knows nothing about love or how to keep it around. not until it’s too late, anyway.
warnings angsty fic, no use of y/n
author’s note wrote this fic in three days, new record! hope you enjoy, and as always, thank you to @clovermoters for being my little cheerleader and bestie 5eva <3 love u millions!
₊ ⊹
You first met Lando in a cramped lecture hall during the first semester of university.
The professor was talking about something that you paid no mind to, mindlessly transcribing as much of the information as you heard. You knew you could find the full lecture online later, anyway, as this professor made it convenient for students to slack off by sending all his PowerPoints and Word documents to them.
As your fingers flickered over the keyboard, your attention became divided between what the professor was saying and the curious personality that just bursted in through the door.
He was something of a mess— damp curls stuck to his forehead as a wide grin spread across his face, below his lips were speckled hairs that looked like a sad version of a goatee. His breathless and grinning self found you in the third row from the front, and he took a seat without asking for permission.
“I hate the rain,” he whispered as he unzipped his damp jacket.
You glanced briefly at him, noticing how much more vibrant he seemed up close. He seemed like the type of person that exudes warmth just by being, like you didn’t have to go outside to get warmed up by the sun and merely sitting next to him would grow even the smallest spark into a flame.
It made you nervous.
Without saying a word, and instead choosing to hold an uncomfortable amount of eye contact, you turned back to your laptop and realised you missed about half the lecture by now.
The stranger pulled out a notepad and a pen, and scribbled down a few words before pushing the paper towards you.
What did I miss? It read, in surprisingly neat handwriting.
You had half a mind to ignore him again, to simply pay attention to the class and pretend he didn’t exist. He hadn’t existed in your orbit before and there was no reason for him to join now, so there was no reason for why you would pick that pen up and write a response.
Despite your hesitation, you picked up his pen and wrote back: Nothing important. He’ll send you the whole lecture in an e-mail later anyway.
The man watched as your fingers pushed the notebook back towards him, a small smile playing on his lips once he realised he had put a tiny crack in your shell.
There was something about you that made him curious, intrigued, despite spending barely ten minutes in your presence.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the man grin at your reply, and something in your stomach tightened.
Amidst the noise of the campus cafeteria, at a table in the farthest corner you could find, you found yourself nestled between a pile of books and electronics. Sure, it’d be more convenient to go to the library and study there, but you actually found the cacophonous sound of mixed conversations quite soothing to your mind.
It reminded you that you were alone in your space but not lonely, whereas a library would only discourage you from doing any work because everyone there is always quiet, there’s no distant chatter about the guys from the university football team or the professor who grades work based on handwriting.
And at the cafeteria, you could be in your own orbit, surrounded by glimmering stars that made you feel less alone. It was just you, your books and your uninterrupted study.
You continued to write down the main notes of a lecture you skipped last week due to a sick day. The flu was going around and you managed to catch a weak case of it, and today was your first day back from bedrotting in your dorm.
The discordant feeling of your studying was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Hey,” you raised your head to look at who exactly it was.
A small look of surprise flashed across your face when you realised it’s the stranger from the lecture a few weeks ago. He looked a lot less messy now and, instead of a damp jacket and dripping curls, he was dressed in a knit sweater over a button-up shirt and black dress pants with his curls in a neat bunch on his head. It’s only now you noticed that they cascaded down his neck into a mullet. You never really liked the look of them, but he seemed to suit it well.
You realise you hadn’t answered him and he was just standing there awkwardly, two paper cups in hand. When he noticed you glancing over at the items he held, he cleared his throat. “I got an extra by accident, want it?”
After a moment of hesitation you curtly nodded your head and he took that as an invitation to sit across from you as he slid the cup to your side of the table. “It’s green tea with honey and lemon. Heard it’s good for brain power or something, and I noticed you weren’t in lectures the past week so,” he explained.
“Thanks,” you brought the cup up to your lips and took a small sip, the warmth and flavour of green tea caressing your tongue. It clicks in your brain that he noticed your absence and a warmth spreads across your chest. You’re not sure if it’s from the tea anymore.
It was also then that you realised you didn’t know his name and glanced over at the cup across from yours— the one his slender fingers were holding for warmth— in hopes of catching a glimpse of who the stranger was.
It wasn’t cold enough outside for coats and scarves, but chilly enough to seek out heat in any possible place. Many couples on campus found themselves holding hands in each other’s pockets or sharing those two person gloves, but you, and the stranger across from you, found yourselves caressing paper cups full of warm liquids. You wondered what his drink of choice was and glanced at the cup for far too long, he noticed.
“Peppermint tea, it’s my favourite.” He gives you a soft smile before nudging his chin towards your stack of books. “What’re you reading?”
“Just something for class,” you explain in your usual calm and quiet voice. He found it endearing— the way you didn’t stand out or try to be known. You were quiet, focused and driven, and that was something he never knew he was attracted to until he met you.
You didn’t remember him from before the lecture he was late for, but he always observed you from across campus. The way your hair fell over your face in gentle waves and you stuck your tongue out, focused on scribbling down whatever you had in your mind.
Maybe it was the intelligence he was attracted to, or maybe it was just you.
He taunted. “You always read for class. Don’t you read books just for fun sometimes?”
“I do,” you shrug. You didn’t feel like explaining every detail of your life to him, and it maybe even bothered you a little that he expected you to be an open book that he could flip through and learn whatever he wanted to.
“Alright,” a challenging tone outlines his voice as it hits your ears. “What’s the best book you’ve read recently? Not including whatever’s in your stack right now.”
You took your bottom lip between your teeth and thought about it for a second. “The Bell Jar.”
“Pssh,” he huffed. “Bleak.”
Your eyebrows drew in closer, face riddled with confusion as you tilted your head to the side. “Some people like bleak things.”
The stranger nodded, taking a moment to glance around your set up— the laptop your fingers had so hastily typed lecture notes on was covered in various stickers; your hair was put up in a flower claw clip; your hoodie had a graphic and some words that he could figure came from a song of some sorts. He noticed you added a little blue eyeshadow to the inner corner of your eye and your eyeliner wasn’t sharp, but it was noticeable and suited you well.
He doesn’t know you well enough to draw solid conclusions, but his voice hums in your ears when he says, “yeah, but you don’t seem like the type to.”
You kept running into each other— at the library, in lectures, in the campus cafe. It wasn’t intentional, you two just happened to be there, but Lando— you finally learnt his name— took it as fate. He kept trying to convince you that the universe gifted him to you as a way to crack open your shell. You began to believe him.
Over time, you two became friends and you weren’t really sure how it happened. It’s just that Lando never stopped talking to you, never let you fully retreat back into yourself. He made you feel like being quiet wasn’t the same as being invisible.
“You like me,” Lando said one night, as you sat on the steps outside a party neither of you wanted to be at.
You told him that you’d most likely end up leaving early, and he teased you for it. But you went anyway, for no other reason than to spend more time with him. Lando thought it was endearing how you came to the party, despite scowling the whole time.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re tolerable.”
He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours as his eyes looked over at you trying to hide your smile. “Admit it, you like me.”
You exhale through your nose and let your lips curl up into a little smile. “Fine. You’re not awful.’
Lando smiled at you like you had handed him something precious. He looked out at the street and watched how the night slowly creeped its shadows over the peaceful scenery ahead. There was a feeling in the air that felt awkward, scary and comforting all at once. “Well, for the record, I like you, too.”
You tucked your hands into the pockets of your coat to hide how anxiety had crawled down your spine and nestled in the tremoring taps of your fingers. Lando watched as you stood up and insisted on walking you back to your dorm. As the cold of autumn air creeped down your neck, you found yourselves outside the campus dorms, on the stairs, neither of you making a move to go inside.
Lando’s hands were anxiously balling into fists by his side, and then his fingers stretched out. You noticed his hands a lot. How they were always so present when he’s speaking and trying to explain topics that you didn’t understand or how he would casually touch the arm or back of someone he was speaking to. You noticed it because you noticed everything. He never did that to you.
The question left your mouth before you could stop it. “Why don’t you touch me like you do to everyone else?”
Lando blinked, genuine surprise flashing across his face as he thought of the answer. “I didn’t think you’d like that.”
“I wouldn’t,” you admitted, chin resting on your knees as your arms wrapped around your bent legs. “But still.”
Lando hesitated. He gently observed you— your scarf hid most of your face and your hands were so softly pressed against your calves. Eventually, you felt the soft caress of his knuckles against yours. It was light, barely there, but you felt it in your chest.
“Better?” His green eyes locked on yours as you turned to look at him.
You nodded and he didn’t pull away.
You kissed for the first time in his apartment, after an argument.
In the small kitchen of his apartment, as he leaned back against the electric stove and you leaned back on the counter across from him, Lando pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you even like me?”
You looked up at him with a glint of uncertainty in your eye that pierced him right in the chest. It was all so quick— the feather-soft touches on your waist as he walked past you; late-night study sessions at each other’s apartment or dorm, that usually ended up with the other person staying over for the night; the ‘accidental’ scooting closer to you whenever you sat next to each other during bonding events with your coursemates.
Somewhere in all of that— in the longing gaze at you from across the lecture hall, in the casual inclusion of you in the conversations with his mates, in the words spoken while drowsy with sleep— you started feeling it, too. And your first instinct wasn’t to embrace the feelings and allow your friendship to evolve into something more.
The most logical thing you could’ve thought to do was deny and pull away.
There’s no way Lando actually likes you. You spoke to your best friends, who lived on opposite sides of town, but could tell that Lando genuinely did like you. For some odd reason, you wouldn’t let yourself believe it. You had a habit of pulling away when things got too real, and Lando was a victim of it.
It was unexpected, but the flurry of unexpressed feelings and you pulling away as soon as everything got too real made Lando insecure, scared and lost.
A few weeks ago, he noticed you ignoring his texts, avoiding his eyes when you caught a glimpse of him entering the lecture hall, excusing yourself from activities he’d usually bring you to.
When he finally caught you alone in the halls of your university, he grabbed you by the elbow— gently, of course, but harsh enough to pull you away from the group of people next to you– and forced you to look at him. “You’re avoiding me,” he stated, a slight hint of anger and worry in his voice. “Why?”
“I’m not avoiding you, Lando.” You shook his hands off of your elbows. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy with what? I know your daily routine like the back of my hand, and at some point, I was part of it.” He sounded hurt, like you pushing him away and distancing yourself actually meant something to him. You thought he wouldn’t notice and that he’d let you go, and things would go back to how they were— you’d be two strangers again.
“You are,” you bit your lip and tried to come up with something to say. “I’ve just been busy, Lando. I took up extra assignments from our professor, I need my grade up.”
“And that’s really it?” Lando crosses his arms over his chest.
You sighed and slumped your shoulders. “Can we please not do this here? People are watching.”
Lando scoffed and shook his head. “Fine. Come over for dinner and then we’ll talk.”
You watched him walk away, knowing you had hurt him more than anticipated. Obviously you pushing him away would’ve upset him, you just never thought that he’d actually care enough to try and pull you back in.
And, fortunately for him, it worked, because now you’re in his tiny kitchen that seems to get smaller every second you don’t speak.
You fiddled with your entwined fingers as you looked down, feeling Lando’s gaze burning into you. Finally, you look up at him. “I do.”
“Then why don’t you act like it?” He begs, hands in the air as he steps closer to you. “Why don’t you show that you like me?”
Something inside you cracked, like a part of your soul has been revealed to him and you had no choice but to let him see it. “I… I don’t know how.”
Lando exhaled sharply before taking your face into his hands and pulling you in. His lips were gentle and softly moulded against yours, not moving until he was sure you wouldn’t pull away.
Meanwhile, you felt like the ground had disappeared beneath your feet. You kissed him back as if you were making up for the time you spent distancing yourself and pushing him away, and Lando smiled against your teeth before pulling you in closer.
A week later you found yourself at another party, this time accompanied not only by Lando but also your friend, Blair, who was a good friend of Lando’s as well.
You sat on the kitchen counter with Blair right next to you in her neat, maroon dress and mary janes on her feet. Lando had left you two half an hour ago to go find some of his other friends and catch up, so you weren’t worried about having to leave alone at the end of the night.
Alcohol tasted bitter on your tongue, but even more so when you finally caught a glimpse of the curly head of hair you had begun to miss. He sat snugly on the couch with a girl in his lap, Lando’s lips moving hungrily against hers— completely opposite to all the times he’s kissed you.
You watch them for a minute, then three, then five, and when your ogling reached half an hour, Blair nudged your shoulder. “You could say something, y’know?”
You shook your head. “It’s not like that.”
It’s true. You weren’t together, not really. You two never defined it, never talked about what it was. Lando kissed other people. You pretended it didn’t bother you.
Blair gave you a look. It did bother you. “But it is.”
That night, you went home early. Lando didn’t follow you.
You found yourself at his apartment the very next evening. He had asked you to come over and help him study for an upcoming exam, and you weren’t one to turn down someone in need, especially not Lando.
The study session was as normal as usual— Lando’s touch lingered on your arm when he finally understood what he needed to write down; he nudged your shoulder when he noticed you were spacing out; he kept saying sweet things and stealing kisses.
And, as per usual, you two lost track of time and it was too late for you to take a train back to your campus. You were sure the security guards would give you a hard time about coming back to your dorm at one in the morning.
You ended up in Lando’s bed again. Although you two were never intimate. The most that’s ever happened between you two was Lando’s hands up your shirt, before you stopped him. It got too real, you got scared and Lando let it go.
Lando was sleeping soundly beside you as you stared at the ceiling. Except he wasn’t— he watched the silhouette of your face, barely illuminated by the moon behind the curtains.
“Are you in love with me?” He asked, half-asleep beside you. Lando’s not sure what prompted the question, but something in him needed to know that your jealousy last night wasn’t just because.
You just stared at the ceiling. “No.”
It was a while before he responded. Then, in a barely-there whisper, “liar.”
You turned to face away from him, pressing your face into the pillow.
The two of you kept doing this— circling each other, never quite holding on, never quite letting go.
You mustered up the courage to turn around and face him again. He was already looking at you as if he expected it. “Why do you put up with me?”
“What do you mean?”
You exhale deeply. “I’m a difficult person to be friends with, let alone be… whatever we are. Why don’t you just let that go?”
“Because I love you, obviously.” He said it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Your throat tightened. “You don’t have to.”
Under the dim moonlight, still shadowed by thin curtains, you could see Lando’s expression soften as his hand came up to caress your cheek. “I know. But I do.”
You fell asleep before saying it back. Lando didn’t need you to.
When it all became too real again— when Lando told you he loved you everyday and you felt the pressure of reciprocation weighing on your shoulders— you started to pull away again. This time, he let you.
Things ended slowly, like a candle burning out and you were the wax dripping into different squiggled shapes until neither of you merged together anymore.
You told yourself that it was for the best. That you were too difficult, too closed off for someone like him. That he deserved someone who could love him, without hesitation or fear.
It’s been a few weeks now, but some nights you lay awake thinking about him. The way he could make anyone feel like they belonged by simply talking to them. The way he had told you he loved you like it wasn’t the hardest thing for you to handle and like it was the simplest truth he could ever have told.
You continued to tell yourself that you did the right thing.
You told yourself this every time you sat in lectures and glanced over at the empty seat beside you, where Lando would slide in all breathless and charming. You told yourself this as you walked past the campus cafe, ignoring how the corner booth you two had claimed as your own was now taken by a couple— one much happier than you ever were.
You told yourself this as you lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself that you felt free rather than lost.
And you were beginning to believe it. Until he called.
It was late—past midnight—and you were half asleep, blurry eyes watching as Lando’s contact lit up your screen.
Your finger hovered over the screen, hesitant, before pressing accept. For a moment, all you heard was shallow breathing. Then his voice, quiet, unsure. “Hey.”
You sat up, anxiously gripping your blanket. When your silence extended past his expectation, he let out a laugh. Breathy and sad. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have called.”
“Are you drunk?” Your eyebrows furrowed, a pang in your heart so strong that it made you nauseous.
After a while, he admitted. “Yeah, but that’s not why I called.”
You closed your eyes, rubbing your temple. “Lando-“
“No. Just… Just let me say this, okay?” His voice wavered, either with a cry or due to him being drunk. “I know you don’t want this. I know you don’t want me. But, fuck, I don’t know how to stop wanting you.”
Lando heard your breath hitch.
“I keep thinking that one day I’ll wake up and it won’t hurt anymore,” Lando continued, his voice thick with something you couldn’t name. “That I’ll wake up, get dressed, see you in class and it won’t sting anymore. But it does. It always does.”
You pressed a hand to your mouth, eyes burning with unshed tears. “Lando.” Your plea goes unnoticed as he continues.
“I keep replaying it all.” He admitted, voice trembling, a little quieter. “All the times I could’ve said something different, something better. All the times we stayed up at my apartment talking, and you looked at me like I was something you couldn’t figure out.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as your back plopped down against your pillows, tears running down your cheeks and into the fabric beneath you.
“And I wonder if I had just held on a little tighter, would you have stayed? Because I would have stayed for you,” he whispered. “I would’ve chosen you every single time.”
A silence stretched out between the two of you— fragile, breaking, endless.
Finally, he let out a shaky breath. “That’s all from me.”
He expected you to say something. To ramble on and on about how he’s wrong, how you wouldn’t have stayed, or maybe how you would’ve but he just didn’t try hard enough.
Instead, you gripped your phone, knuckles white. There were so many things you could say— that you missed him, that you were sorry, that you had loved him, too— loved him so much that it terrified you.
And fear had always been the loudest in your mind. So you did what you always do, you stayed silent. Lando exhaled, a sound that broke something inside you. “Goodbye, then.”
You were left in the silence and dark of your room, only the ghost of his voice still ringing in your ear. You told yourself that this was the right thing.
The next time you saw him was completely unexpected. It was a week after the call.
You had avoided places where you might run into him. Your routine— the one that previously contained Lando— was now a careful and predictable thing. You had meticulously planned it out— arrive to class early, leave early, avoid people who reminded you of him. You thought that if you stayed out of his orbit— that if you were just a distant star— the space between you two could be filled with anything but regret. But that didn’t work.
It was a Tuesday, the sun starting to dip low in the sky, casting long shadows across the campus. You had just finished an afternoon seminar and were heading toward the library, your bag slung over your shoulder, mind focused on the reading you had to catch up on.
As you turned a corner, you almost collided with someone.
Lando.
His eyes widened as he stepped back, as if surprised to see you. There was an awkward beat, a brief second where you both just stood there, locked in a kind of frozen disbelief.
You didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t planned for this moment. You hadn’t expected to see him again—certainly not so soon, and certainly not with that look on his face, the kind of look that made you realize how much distance had formed between you.
“Hey,” Lando said, his voice flat, like he was unsure of what else to say.
“Hey,” you managed, heart racing.
There was a long silence. You tried to read his expression, but it was difficult—like he was hiding something. Or maybe it was just that he was different now.
“I…” Lando started, then stopped himself. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. “I’m not gonna be around much longer.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
Lando ran a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “I’m leaving the university.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “You’re what?”
“Leaving,” he repeated, quieter this time. He finally looked up at you, his eyes heavy with something—something you couldn’t quite place. “I’m transferring. Going somewhere else.”
Your stomach dropped. “When?”
“A few weeks.” He shrugged, like it didn’t matter, like it wasn’t a big deal. But his voice wavered. He wasn’t as casual as he pretended to be.
You felt your chest tighten. “Why?”
Lando looked at you, then away again. “It’s just… not working here anymore. With everything. The classes, the people, the—” He exhaled, cutting himself off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need a change. I just… need something different.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You had so many questions, so many things you wanted to say. But the words felt stuck in your throat, like they couldn’t escape, like they’d been buried under the weight of too many unsaid things.
“I didn’t tell anyone yet,” Lando continued, glancing at you, then quickly looking away again. “But I thought you should know. I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.”
You shook your head slowly, trying to process the weight of his words. “So… you’re just leaving?”
He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah. I think it’s for the best.”
For the best. You felt like you had been punched in the gut. There was no anger in his voice, no bitterness—only resignation, like he had already made peace with something you couldn’t understand.
A lump formed in your throat. “I didn’t know you were unhappy here.”
“I wasn’t. Not at first,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was confessing something. “But… things changed. I changed.”
Your heart twisted. You had been too caught up in your own fears, your own decisions, to see how much he had been struggling. You had let him go without realizing how far he had already drifted.
“I just thought you should know,” Lando repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before I go.”
You nodded slowly, your thoughts spinning. There was so much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t. You didn’t know how to make him understand. How could you explain that you never meant to push him away? That it had been your own fear, your own inability to deal with what was happening between you two that had caused all this?
But you couldn’t say any of that.
Instead, you said something simpler, something that felt inadequate but necessary.
“I’m sorry.”
Lando shook his head quickly, as if brushing off your words. “Don’t apologize.”
A silence stretched out, heavy and suffocating. You felt like you were losing him all over again, but this time, it was different. This time, it wasn’t just about distance. It was about the reality of him choosing to leave.
After a long pause, Lando sighed, his voice breaking through the quiet. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not even…” He stopped, as if he couldn’t finish the sentence. Then, with a small, sad smile, he added, “I just wish things had been different.”
You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You couldn’t find the strength to say anything more.
Lando looked at you one last time, his gaze lingering for a moment, like he was waiting for something. Then, he turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps fading as he disappeared into the crowd.
You stood there, rooted to the spot, as the world continued to move around you.
And for the first time in a long while, you understood what it meant to truly lose someone.
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tiny-space-platypus · 7 months ago
Text
Identity Fraud
Hunting
Part 6
Previous
Danny was having a good day. He had aced a presentation, turned in an essay early, and got a bunch of lab work done. Plus he was excited to hear about Elle's day! She had been so excited to go to that museum, he's sure she'd be bursting to tell him about-
She wasn't at the school. No one was at the school. Why wasn't anyone at the school?? What had he missed? Danny immediately checked his phone to find a call from the school and a voice mail. "Due to unforeseen events, the 5th grade field trip is cancelled for the day. All children will be brought home accompanied by a Gotham PD officer to insure safety. We at Gotham Academy-" Danny hung up before the voice mail could finish. Elle was possibly with a cop at their apartment, someone who could definitely turn them in. He needed to get to his sister, he needed to make sure she was alright. He needs to protect his little sister. Danny's core burned as he rushed back to his apartment to find nothing. Danny panicked, had they already taken her? Had Danny failed to protect her so soon?
She was still close
His core was buzzing as much as his ears were ringing. Danny went Ghost, he wasn't supposed to here, even if Gotham was full of ecto-energy and its own ghost as soon as he transformed he was trackable but Elle was so much more important than that. Plus they were likely already compromised. They'd have to hide again, maybe leave this country this time. He'll have Tucker and technus erase their identities here and make a new one wherever they land.
As Danny's thoughts spiral he went invisible and intangible fading through the building he knew Elle was in floor by floor, room by room. He needed to find her- He needed to find her. He needed to protect her.
Danny did find her. He found her dying on a couch from fucking Blood blossom poisoning. He found her surrounded by vigilantes and some muscular guy. A guy who had definitely died before. That didn't matter, he needed to focus on Elle. Danny dropped the Intangibility and invisibility as he crouched down in front of Elle gently placing a hand on her little face causing her to whine. Danny was enraged as the vigilantes immediately jumped and tried to restrain him. Unfortunately for them they had died before, unfortunately for them he was the king of the realms. Fortunately for Danny they had to listen to his commands. Danny stood up as the two vigilantes readied to attack along with the muscular man. The muscular man would be the easiest to control, giving him more energy to help Elle. Danny made eye contact with the muscular man, as soon as he did the man's eyes glowed green. Danny then did something he hated, he gave the dead an order.
"Restrain and hold them still."
And with that the muscular man attacked the two smaller vigilantes. They yelled and cried as the muscular man attacked them but Danny had tuned them out. He had to focus on Elle. Danny held out his palms in a sort of cup as green ectoplasm formed in his hands glowing brightly as all that came from the king did. He carefully allowed the liquid to drain down Elle's throat till the blood blossom effects had faded away. Danny didn't care about the Vigilantes yelling as he picked Elle up. Before going invisible and intangible again, he looked at the muscular man who looked at him with practically empty glowing greens eyes, Danny gave yet another order.
"You may release them in t minutes. Then you are also released"
Danny and Elle then both left, he would take her to the zone to heal properly.
––––———————
Jason couldn't control himself. Jason couldn't fucking control himself. Jason was frozen, unable to move against the figure that just just appeared. As soon as that white haired.. Thing! Looked at him his vision filled with that awful green but it felt different this time. There was no uncontrollable, all consuming rage but a soft him of rage that waited for something.
Restrain and hold them still.
A voice? No a feeling maybe? broke through the buzzing, a calm voice that for some reason the pit listened to. Jason felt 2 figures in his hold, struggling to get away but unable to as he held them tight. The calm voice called again.
5 minutes
Jason held his grip as the voice counted down, as what he was holding struggled more.
4 minutes
Jason felt calm, calmer than he should have ever felt with the pit taking hold of him but for some reason.. This was so peaceful.
3 minutes
The smaller of the two he was holding had stopped struggling allowing Jason to change how he held it.
2 minutes
He began to hear the world again, barely. He could barely hear his brothers yelling at him.
1 minute
The world was slowly coming back as the green faded from his vision. Jason felt odd as he slowly let go of the brothers he was holding so firmly.
0 minutes
Jason was almost fully aware of the world around him as gently placed down his brother. His head was spinning and the world felt fuzzy. What had happened? Dick was there? Dick was slowly tapping on his arm, a soft grounding rhythm that Jason could match his breathing to. What had happened? What was going on??
—————————
"It took Danielle, we need to go after her!" Damian got up quickly as soon as he was let go. Damian immediately began to look for how that person got in without setting off their alarms. As well as any clues of where they went. Tim was on the floor gasping for air as Steph looked after him. Whatever had made Jason restrain them made him restrain the two of them with the same amount of force. That was fine for Damian and his tiny stature but for Tim Jason was practically squeezing the life out of him till he adjusted his hold.
Duke and Cass were trying to find where the figure went and where he had taken the girl, Barbara was looking at security cameras, and Bruce in all his Batman Glory was immediately checking on all of them he was their father after all. Then came the report from the 2 of them.
Tim had hit his emergency Beacon first, then when he was being choked by his big brother in some sort of mind control haze, he just kept pressing the button hoping the others would get there before he passed out. Damian had hit his after struggling for a bit only making the grip tighter and Tim wheeze.
They both froze as they watched the figure summon Lazarus water in their hands. Then they both struggled and yelled more as it poured the water down the girl's throat. Was that why it had taken control of Jay? Did it have control over those damned pits? The figure never even addressed them just sent Jason to keep them out of the way before disappearing. That thing wasn't human. That thing was dangerous to their family. That thing was going to get the hell out of Gotham before it could possibly hurt any of Bruce's kids. He won't let that happen not again.
They'll look into this creature tonight for now Bruce needs to make sure his boys will be safe.
———————
Danny mostly unaware of the chaos he had just caused for the bats shoves up at the Far Frozen holding a still unconscious Elle. Frostbite began treatment of her almost immediately, but even still they'd have a few days before Elle would be stable and conscious again. Danny could cover his little sister's absence for a few days. He can cover her absence for a few days, that should be fine. It's not like they were currently being hunted for.
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starstruckmoony · 1 year ago
Note
Hi, could I request a enemies to lovers with Enzo? Love your writing :))
tysm for the request anon!! i am so so sorry for taking ages to post this but i got veryyyyyy carried away and it may or may not be too long BUT i hope you enjoy it and that it's similar enough to what you imagined &lt;3
king of my heart.
masterlist , requests
pairing - lorenzo berkshire x reader
summary - you and lorenzo are both sore, jealous losers with egos the size of jupiter, so you decide that you hate one another and that academic competing is the way to go. you keep that up for six full years, until something rather unfortunate happens and destroys your entire game plan.
trope/tags - enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, angst, fluff
word count - 12.8k
warnings - language, smoking
if there was one thing every single person who ever crossed your path knew about you, even if you were barely acquainted, was that you had sort of been raised without the ability to accept that you cannot always come out on top. it was simply incomprehensible. you'd been told that you were a gifted kid from the moment you became aware of your pathetic little existence. it did wonders to your ego. your smarts and determination amused your tutors, petrified them even. and the better you got, the more motivation it sparked in you.
you intended to keep things going your way when your acceptance letter for hogwarts arrived in the mail. you weren't worried, not even a little bit, and neither were your parents. being the best of the best was a running thing in your family.
unsurprisingly, it couldn't have started off better. your professors loved you. other kids envied you. each essay and exam result you'd ever recieved was the textbook definition of perfect. your grades were nicer that aphrodite's reflection in the mirror, as hermione had told you once. it was a lot coming from her. she was also amongst the few of the smartest, most hardworking students in your year, but you never felt threatened by her, or anybody else for that matter. there was, weirdly, no jealousy. on her part, at least, considering you so very effortlessly secured your spot as top of the class and never let anybody take it. she'd always be happy for you like the good friend she was, proudly patting you on the back, yet you couldn't help but think if she ever felt a little angry behind that supportive smile of hers.
and funny enough, you were finally able to stop pretending to know what it was like one fine wednesday before the christmas holidays. you had come into class more confident than ever that morning, smugly waiting for your potions essay results. you were hoping for a hundred, but a ninety nine, maybe even a ninety eight, didn't seem so bad either. that would have been, if lorenzo berkshire hadn't got his essay back with a score better than yours. he, much like yourself, was just another sore loser who craved academic validation like a drug, silently fuming whenever somebody surpassed him. he had dealt it with for months, watching you ace everything from charms to transfiguration, and always being second to you. the jealousy consumed his entire being, and he was kind of going mental, so you one could only imagine how ecstatic he was when he saw your face twist with dread after snape praised him in front of everybody. he wouldn't have hidden that mocking grin on his face if you held a knife to his throat and it made you want to choke him to death, for lack of better term.
"l/n." he sang as he successfully caught you in the corridor right after the said lesson. twat. you ignored him and increased the speed of your steps, biting the inside of your cheek, so hard that it began to sting. you didn't instantaneously realise how desperate he was to get your attention, but it became a lot clearer when he stood in front of you, entirely blocking your path. your little attempts to confuse him and avoid the situation were useless. it was kind of pathetic.
"what do you want?" simply shoving him to the ground and acting like it never happened would have done the job, but god forbid you swallowed your pride for once. 
"c'mon, don't be so pissy, i'm just trying to make conversation." you saw right through him, anyone would. him? wanting to make conversation with you? after death-glaring you every lesson for three months straight? and then bursting your bubble and being so smug about it? you almost scoffed, "you're in my way."
"oh, my apologies." he moved to the side and bowed dramatically, waiting for you to leave. you rolled your eyes, and took a single step forward, just to have him come right back to his original spot.
"move." you tried to shove him and even attempted to run for it, but he was faster than you. your nostrils flared, "you know that today was just dumb luck, right?" you crossed your arms, thinking you'd get under his skin, but there was no sign of change on his face. on the contrary, he was more accomplished than ever. you were fuming.
"i wouldn't call it that." he tilted his head to the side, observing your face.
"alright then," you copied his movements, "plagiarism?" his smile fell a little. it made you a lot happier than it should have. you expected victory from that senseless squabble, but lorenzo wasn't the type of person who backed down so easily. that was something you should have known.
"you're projecting." he shrugged, blankly staring at you.
"projecting?" you almost stuttered.
"projecting. pick up a dictionary, yeah?" he gave your head a tiny pat, and left you standing in the hallway, dumbfounded, angry, and a little humiliated.
that moment alone set off a feud that changed the trajectory of your miserable lives forever. each time he did better than you, whether it was on an essay, an exam, flying lessons even, your urge to wipe his existence of the face of the earth got stronger. the feelings were mutual on his part. you went back and forth like that for a while, trying not to be that obvious about it, but one could only hide their true feelings for so long.
it started off with hushed insults, which got strategically thrown around every time you'd cross each other's path. having other people notice your diminishing confidence was proper nightmare fuel, so you kept it as subtle as possible. then it turned into shoving and pushing, which was enough to set off some alarm bells in the heads of your friends. neville had told you that it wasn't worth it, and draco, of all fucking people, had told lorenzo to tone it down, but you refused to listen. you offered a few empty promises, saying that you'll sort it out sooner or later (sort out as in make sure you never let lorenzo get a score higher than yours again, but that was not going to happen).
your sooner or later turned into a few godawfully long years. saying you hated him may have seemed like an overstatement, but there was no other way to describe that burning feeling of i want to fucking kill you that entirely took over you whenever you laid your eyes on him. it kept getting worse and worse, without you realising just how bad it had become. your little competitions had completely lost their significance. it didn't matter who was first anymore. it could be ron or pansy, and you wouldn't bat an eye. all you cared about was surpassing each other, even if you were among the average with your scores.
that being said, it became an open secret of sort. as stupid as you made your classmates out to be, they were not, and they quickly put the missing puzzle pieces together. one of them spread a rumour that you tried to kill lorenzo, or vice versa, you couldn't really remember. and frankly, you couldn't blame them. you had given them more than enough reasons to think that you hated his guts. the most ridiculous instance had to have been the one during potions class when snape assigned you to work together. you could have placed a bet of two million galleons that he did it on purpose. it was like he wanted you to fail.
lorenzo had managed to insult you before he even took a seat at your table, calling you too stupid to work with in front of the entire class. you told him that he was a daft idiot when he unwillingly slumped down into the empty seat next to you, which had only set him off more. you accepted your fates almost immediately, knowing that whatever task snape assigned to you wouldn't be done, even if it cost you your grades.
just like you predicted, you did everything but what you were supposed to; spilled every sort of liquid there was all over each other's things, broke a few glasses, set two notebooks on fire, and burnt a hole in the table. you had stuck him to his chair, too, and lost a few house points as a result.
***
a sane person would have reached a certain point and stopped, pushing all of those stupid grudges aside. forgive and forget, that whole talk. hopelessly, your friends thought you would have got over it as you were growing older and that you would have chosen basic human decency over some hurt feelings and an insignificant competition no one gave a shit about. but no. you were not sane. you were ruthless, and you continued trying to make each other miserable like your lives depended on it. you hated lorenzo berkshire, and he hated you just as much. you were too naive and caught up in it all to realise that it'll come right back for you later.
it was like some sick obsession. from obvious sabotaging during classes whenever you got assigned to work together (followed by unsatisfactory results you blamed the other for) to throwing insults at each other in the corridors where everybody was set to hear you, you had checked every single one off.
you called him a useless arsehole on a daily basis. he called you an insufferable bitch every time he saw you. you had cursed out each other during lessons and done even worse things when nobody was looking. and if anyone did see you and try to get involved and call you names, it was bad news for them. you were each other's enemies to insult and demean and degrade and ruthlessly bully, nobody else's. only you were allowed to call him a cockroach, and only he was allowed to call you a snake. your relationship with lorenzo was nothing you could explain to somebody with a fully functioning brain, even if you tried.
one night in your fifth year, you had successfully snuck out in search of some sort encyclopaedia to help you out with your DADA assignment. none of the books which you were allowed to use did good enough of a job at making it easier, so you were hoping that the restricted section would have something better to offer - which it did. you couldn't recall the last time your trip to the library was that short.
to make things even better, you successfully avoided bumping into an annoying brunette who made your life oh so entertaining (unbearable). lorenzo wasn't anywhere to be seen. you smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of freedom at last. you were praying that the prick got bored of looming around the corridors all alone like a loser, waiting to terrorise you.
you began humming a tune you heard dean play on his old gramophone (one that got confiscated), and skipped around the corner to make your way to the grand staircase. mistake number one. you tripped over something, someone, but managed to stay on your feet as opposed to falling face-first onto the ground. you didn't even have to look back to know who it was.
"my, my, out rebelling again?" lorenzo leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, smirking in satisfaction when he noticed how you were grimacing. he stepped on one of the books you dropped, refusing to move when you tried to snatch it back.
"do you mind?" you spat, aggressively pulling it from under his foot. you straightened out your clothes and dusted yourself off before tucking the literature you had picked up under your arm.
"stealing?" he raised an eyebrow.
"borrowing." you corrected.
"without permission?" he tilted his head to the side in faux amusement, "i wonder what would happen if i alerted a professor about this."
"and you'd tell them what?" you scoffed, barely able to hold your laughter in, "that you saw me stealing while you were sneaking out to go for a casual wank?" what a fucking idiot. you rolled your eyes, turning away from him with the intention to walk away from the scene. you were not in the mood for his bullshit.
"yeah, yeah, run away like you always do." he uttered in disappointment, yawning. he knew exactly which buttons to push, and it wasn't surprising. you were familiar with each other's habits and emotions more than you'd like to admit. you stopped in your tracks. sighing, you set the books down onto the stone tiles, and spun around to face him once again.
"aguamenti." you cast the spell with an evil smile, and in a matter of seconds, a wave of water was shot straight in lorenzo's direction, leaving him soaking wet. he gasped out in shock; his clothes clung to his body. the water was unbearably cold, it was so fucking freezing, he could barely move. the commotion was noisy enough to alert filch and his beloved ms. norris, but those were the last of your worries. your felt rather fulfilled, that was what mattered.
"you asked for it." you shrugged, but did not turn your back on him just yet. that would have been the easiest way for him to attack, so you mistakenly waited, thinking he would strike for you. he dug his wand out of his pocket, and muttered a spell, "vermiculus."
you whipped your head in the direction in which he pointed his hand, realising what happened a second too late. he had turned your precious books into worms. you yelped in surprise and stepped away from the disgusting mess on the ground, your back bumping into his chest. you turned to face him and gave him a harsh push, backing him up into the wall and shoving your wand into his face.
"uncast it." you demanded. he laughed. how stupid did you have to be to even think that he'd listen to you, "no."
"berkshire." your words came out louder than expected. you wouldn't have been shocked if you saw a teacher coming around the corner to reprimand the both of you for looming around so late, but you didn't care.
"undo the damn spell." you repeated, just about ready to strangle him if you deemed it necessary.
"no." he pushed you away and took a hold of his own wand. he tried to disarm you, but failed miserabley. two could play at that game, then "stupif-"
"what's going on here?" filch's scratchy voice stopped you mid-spell. your head snapped towards him, and you instinctively stuck your wand inside of your clothes as if he hadn't already seen it. being too preoccupied by trying to come up with an explanation that you hadn't previously used to get yourself out of trouble, you had forgotten about the slimy creatures crawling on the floor. a worm wiggled towards you, too close for comfort, and you scrambled to get away, clumsily bumping into lorenzo once again. he gave you a somewhat gentle shove to get you away, and you kicked him in response, right in the shin.
"she tried to drown me." he explained with an irritated groan, rubbing the sore spot on his leg.
"he destroyed school property." you added dramatically, wishing to kick him one more time. filch's eyes trailed over to the filth beside your feet, and he made a face of disgust before instructing you both to follow him to dumbledore's office.
the whole ordeal ended with the books being safely returned to their spot on the shelves of the restricted section, a half-assed DADA assignment and the two of you getting put on bathroom cleaning duty for seven days straight (no magic allowed). it was probably the biggest mistake of dumbledore's life.
the bathrooms were not cleaned properly once. in fact, they'd only end up in conditions which were about ten times worse than their default ones. lorenzo was too busy spilling bucketfuls of water, dirty or clean, all over you to care whether he scrubbed the junk off every single sink there was (payback for the stunt you pulled on him in the corridor), and you were too busy hitting him with funny smelling toilet brushes (made sure you got all that rubbish into his hair, too) to polish the tiles and mirrors to perfection like you were told to do. it was disgusting and sickeningly entertaining at once. dumbledore considered punishing you with some other method, but gave up seeing what the boys' toilets looked like after night four. not even detention was able to come between the two of you. limits and common sense weren't either.
***
in your sixth year, the unimaginable happened. there wasn't a single soul who saw it coming, not even yourselves. maybe it was magic. maybe it was a sign from the universe. maybe some higher power did everybody justice. whatever it was, it sent your professors into a spiral. their shitty damage control was finally paying off, as cruel as it turned out to be.
classes had become increasingly more difficult than they were in previous years. to follow, to manage, to keep track of, and everything in between. mcgonagall had pulled you outside twice, asking you what was wrong after she had noticed that you were falling behind. many of your peers were, actually, but nobody would have ever expected it from you. the results you'd achieve weren't always as perfect as they were in your first year, though you had never struggled to get past eighty points until then. it was singlehandedly the worst thing that could have ever happened to you. priorities were hard to sort out, so there was a noticeable decline in your performance. you were absolutely miserable, and it did not get better, only worse. so bad that you had forgotten that you had a certain slytherin to compete with.
it was the day before halloween night, lessons had come to an end. your friends scattered around different places – some to the great hall, some to hogsmeade, some headed straight to bed, all intending to clear their minds after a stressful week of difficult assignments and dreadfully challenging essays. nearly every student left the transfiguration classroom with a relieved smile, happy that even their low scores ensured them a pass. hermione got a ridiculous amount of praise for her outstanding results, and even an encouraging pat on the back from mcgonagall.
so, a wonderful end of october for everybody but yourself. your expectations weren't high when you handed your toughest essay in. you thought you'd get sixty points at best. not hoping for much, yet still trying to ignore the worst possible outcome - one that was bound to get you someday like proper karma. but that wouldn't actually happen, would it? there was no way. it was impossible. you felt like a bloody idiot.
you failed. you fucking failed. for the first time in your life. and it was much more humiliating than you had imagined. you were so upset with yourself that you hadn't even bothered to pester lorenzo about his results, and strangely, he hadn't approached you either. no glances, no death glares, no hushed insults. not during the lesson, not after.
you left the transfiguration classroom trying your hardest not to cry, ignoring all of your friends and wishing to get out of the castle as soon as possible. you needed to be alone. you weren't looking for anybody's comfort, validation or their empty words of sympathy that would lose their meaning the moment you fixed the mess you were in. so you went to the black lake; where very little people preferred spending time, where you could be at peace with your own thoughts, and where you could catch a much needed break, even if it was only for a little while.
you slumped down onto the grass with a thump, bringing your knees up to your chest and letting your tears fall. you failed. for merlin's sake, you failed. it was like everything you had ever known was suddenly gone. you weren't even worried about what your parents or professors would say. truthfully, you couldn't give less of a damn. you were so disappointed that you had blocked out everything and everyone else, or whatever stupid opinion and solutions they might have had to offer. everyone, except for lorenzo and that dumb game you two were, for an even dumber reason, still playing. he must have been oh so happy to hear about your failure. he'd never let you live it down, you knew it.
"l/n?" speak of the fucking devil. he always had fantastic timing.
"get out of my sight before i throw you into the lake." you spat, wiping your tear-stained face with your sleeve, not looking at him.
"shiver me timbers." he sang, not feeling threatened at all.
"berkshire." you warned, turning your head towards him and meeting his gaze. you shouldn't have moved. worry flashed through his face for a brief moment when he caught a glimpse your puffy eyes, and he pressed his lips together, guilty. could he actually bring himself to pester you while you were in such a terrible condition? no, he couldn't, regardless of the resentment he felt towards you.
he cleared his throat and took a step closer. you sighed, staring back at the landscape spread out in front of you without uttering a word, "what happened?" he questioned hesitantly.
"nothing that concerns you." you attempted to shut him down. he raised both of his eyebrows, a little amused, "someone upset my favourite rival," he scoffed, "of course it concerns me."
you rolled your eyes, "just leave, will you?" but did you really want him to? your voice shook as you spoke. you despised the part of you that was wishing for him to stay. you wanted to be alone more than anything, but you knew you'd break down again if he listened to your plea and left you there. you'd take his overused insults over failure any day.
"not until you tell me what happened." your jaw clenched, and you muttered a quiet curse, knowing that he most likely wouldn't let up. as if that one would miss out on an opportunity to annoy you. he settled down in the grass, right next to you, waiting.
you sat in silence for what felt like forever. he didn't push you to speak again, and you were pretty reluctant to say a single thing. not even calling him names seemed tempting. you sighed for the nth time, starting to tear up again, "i got my essay back with thirty points." you sniffled, silently preparing yourself to get made fun of.
"fuck," you heard him mumble, and he scratched his head shortly before speaking, "if it makes you feel better, i got twenty eight." getting on your nerves was always in his best interest. although, having to see you so seriously upset was not on his bucket list, not anymore. you stared at him in shock, frowning, "what?"
he nodded. the look on his face was so sullen that you were starting to believe him, "are you not taking the piss?"
he snorted, "i wish i was," he avoided your gaze, "i, uh," he pursed his lips in thought, letting out a breath of frustration, "i was convinced i'd do well even if i started last minute... without research, but uh, guess i was wrong." you hummed, doubtful.
"why are you telling me all this?" you shook your head and trailed your eyes back to the lake, finding it rather difficult to believe that he was being so... nice. it was your first normal conversation and you had no clue what to make of it.
"who else am i supposed to tell it to?" he responded, annoyed. you bit the inside of your cheek, just as irritated, picking up a pebble. you examined it shortly before throwing it into the water.
lorenzo watched you curiously, having very little to say, which was terribly weird in itself. lorenzo berkshire not having a single unnecessary, offending comment to offer? your failures had truly taken a toll on you, completely.
"i can't believe we both fell off." you said in wonder, throwing another rock below the surface.
"right," he agreed, without an urge to backtalk, "fucking hell, i've no reason to hate you now." he blurted out, horrified by his own words.
"fantastic, now i suck at that too." you let out a dry, emotionless chuckle. you weren't crying anymore, just silently fuming at lorenzo for being the one to stop it without even properly trying.
"you suck at everything." he corrected.
"i take after you." you retorted nonchalantly.
"dumbass." he bit back a smile.
"dickhead." you were struggling just as hard. holding in your laughter was never more challenging, but you were determined not to break character.
you found yourselves in an eerily comfortable silence. by the looks of it, things would be alright. knowing that he messed up too somehow put you at ease. not even because you were happy to him fail, but more at the thought that it just happened to be at the same time as you. you found a certain dose of comfort in it. it was written in the stars, as it seemed.
"get lost now." you broke the bubble you found yourselves in. it was about time you got back on track. there was no way you'd get all friendly and gushy with him, even after whatever that was.
"alright, alright." he stood up, groaning as he did so. he dusted off the pieces of grass that got stuck to his trousers.
he stared back at the lake shortly, waiting to see if you'd say anything else he could offer a witty response to. he was a bit sad when you didn't, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, sighing, "well, i shall see you-"
"never." you finished that for him.
"perfect." he added, turning on his heel and heading towards the castle. you allowed yourself to glimpse at him one last time, simply not being able to let him have the last word.
"you've got some on your arse." you were talking about the remainder of the grass that was stuck to his clothing. he stopped to clean it up, and then flipped you off wordlessly.
you thought that was the last of your civilised interactions. there was no reason for you to bore your mind with it. you happened to fall behind at the same time and it gave you a decent bonding moment, but it was nothing more than that. just two people who claimed they didn't like one another very much talking properly for once. nothing, it was nothing. simple as that. so you weren't able to pinpoint why you kept looking back on it nearly every day, or why you felt so guilty for calling him stupid and useless, or why making fun of him for getting a lower score than you wasn't rewarding anymore, or why competing so fiercly was no longer satisfactory. and why he too, happened to feel just the same. maybe you had grown out of it.
you blamed it on the stress. you did have lots of different things occupying your mind anyway - such as your major arithmancy exam that you decided to pull an all nighter for.
for the first time in a while, you stayed inside the library past closing hours. madam pince wasn't too happy about it, but she liked you enough to let you crash there and warned filch not to throw you outside if he happened to notice you during his nightly patrol. the woman had some interesting tactics up her sleeve, none of which you ever questioned.
you swore, probably for the tenth time in the past two minutes, crumpling up yet another piece of parchment. you had to start over a ridiculous amount of times. the pile of rubbish on the floor was growing larger by the second. ripped up paper, bottles of ink, broken feathers, it was definitely a sight. there was no way you were getting through all of that on your own. and oh how that angered you. you rarely ever needed assistance with anything, but this was just a little bit above your level. that enraged you even more. a helping hand was starting to sound promising.
"you're still here?" you didn't even flinch, knowing all too well who that voice belonged to. did god or the devil just answer your prayers? you never got past your little habits of leaving the dormitories to do whatever there was to be done around the castle almost every night, so there he went, running into you again. lorenzo peeked out from behind the bookshelves in front of you, smiling like a little kid who was just about to do something egregiously silly. you couldn't not grin back, despite being angry.
"you're still here?" you repeated his question, crossing your arms.
"i asked first." he moved towards your desk, pulling out an empty chair and settling there next to you without even asking if you wanted him there. weird, that one.
"alright, and?" you teased further. he bumped your shoulder with his own. he wanted something. punching him suddenly sounded like a fine option. he looked over your arm to examine your notes.
"arithmancy?" he glared at you, kind of bemused. it was another subject he was that awfully good at, unlike you. you weren't terrible, but not exactly the best either. an infuriating thing.
"my favourite." you responded sarcastically, throwing your quill across the table. he hummed, sitting back in his chair, but not taking his eyes off of you. he definitely wanted something.
"what?" you could sense it already. he was gonna mock you again.
"do you need help with that, perhaps?" or maybe not. you looked at him, skeptical.
"from you?" you raised an eyebrow.
"well, i mean, yeah." he shifted in his spot, as if he was anxious. you did a double take, and then burst out laughing, wiping away a non-existent tear. he was just too damn funny. him helping you? that was a good one. you carried on with that little performance of yours for the next minute until it hit you that he wasn't joking.
"are you serious?" you asked, just to confirm. there was absolutely no chance.
"look, i can leave-" he stood up, "no," you grabbed a fistful of his sweater and pulled him back down. he yelped, startled, "what's your deal?" you weren't letting him get away with that so easily.
"what do you mean?" he was geniuenly confused.
"don't play fucking dumb," you jabbed a finger into his chest, "why are you being so kind to me all of a sudden?"
he laughed uncomfortably, scratching the nape of his neck, "well, i thought, you know, since it seems like we're no longer on about hating each other, that-"
"oh." you interrupted him, chuckling in disbelief. you shook your head, rubbing your temples in frustration and then letting your arms fall to your sides, "look, berkshire, just because i'm not trying to kill you anymore doesn't mean i want to be friends."
"what!? for fuck's sake, you're impossible." he stood up once more, this time darting out of your reach.
"here we go again." you rolled your eyes. you just couldn't interact without quarreling, could you? he paced around inbetween the bookshelves before returning to your table, "you're not exactly giving me any reasons to be nice right now."
"i never asked of you to be nice." you argued.
"you could appreciate me trying." he retorted. you had no idea what on earth he was trying to achieve. you could only think of so many explanations, "why? so that you could gain my trust and then stab me in the back when it's convenient for you?"
"that's what this is about?" he muttered something under his breath, "i thought we were past that rubbish."
you wanted to laugh hysterically, "okay, we may have pushed the resentment aside, but you can't exactly expect me to trust you."
he understood that, unbeknownst to you, "i never said that you needed to trust me," he sighed, leaning over the table, "listen, i offered to help you because i can see you're struggling. i'm not here to sabotage you if that's what you're worried about. i'd be wasting my time." he straightened his posture, standing there with his arms crossed.
"because i'm already terrible enough and don't need anyone's interference to properly fuck up, right?" you were prepared to tell him to bugger off if he refused to give you the answer you were looking for, furious at him and yourself.
he paused, hesitant. you were so fucking stubborn, and he loved you for it, "correct." alright then.
you picked up your quill, "sit down."
you got your exam back with a shocking score of eighty-nine, surpassing even hermione. not lorenzo, but you were second, and that was enough to have your ego flying right back through the roof.
i told you you could do it, he said, but not without me, he had to point out. you had to give him that. how could you not? he casually decided to save your life without you even asking for it. if it weren't for him, you most likely would have majorly fucked up on that exam. that's not saying that it wasn't difficult. he had no patience and you had even less, but you had somehow survived that night in the library without biting each other's heads off or getting into any additional fights. he even followed you back to your dorm, an offer he didn't allow you to refuse and one that you were too exhausted to complain about.
in the few weeks that followed, you decided that it was for the best that you block out whatever happened between you that night. christmas holidays were approaching, and you couldn't let that ruin your mood. lorenzo told you that mattheo said that it was a shift in the matrix. you had no idea what that meant, it sounded horrifyingly muggle, but you agreed for the sake of agreeing. a shift in the matrix, bloody nonsense. a coincidence, you called it. an accident, even. an accident that helped you out tremendously and made you reconsider lorenzo on nights when you couldn't sleep, but still an accident. 
who were you kidding? something had definitely changed. other students started noticing it too.
you had gradually become somewhat friendly rivals who'd rub their own success into each other's faces for the laughs till they got threatened with a jinx or tickled to death. some occasional name calling too, just not as intense. but you weren't friends. nothing near it. you had done a pretty good job at convincing yourself you never would be. treating him a little better than usual was the farthest you'd go trying to mend all those years of jealousy and grudges. that was what you started living by, pushing away that strange tingling sensation that would coarse through you every time his hands happened to brush against yours when you walked side by side.
it is exactly why you almost spilled acidic liquid all over the table and burnt a hole in it again when he sat next to you during potions one fine afternoon.
snape was visibly mortified by the sight, partially because of that incident from two years prior (when you almost set the entire classroom on fire), and partially because he couldn't believe that mcgonagall was actually onto something when she purposefully failed you both. it would go down in history as one of the most ridiculous moments of his career. he sent a warning glare your way before beginning the lesson.
"excuse you?" you whispered once professor snape finally turned his back to the class, raising both of your eyebrows in question. was lorenzo asking to get violated?
"harry took my seat." he pointed towards the table where he usually sat. and shockingly enough, there was harry, sitting next to draco, for whatever sick and twisted reason. you gaped at them, then at lorenzo. not looking into that deeper was maybe for the better.
okay then. you didn't respond, trying to get into taking some notes like you were previously instructed. that would have been easy (it was for the first quarter of the lesson), if lorenzo's presence wasn't keeping you so alert, stopping you from focusing on what you deemed more important, "merlin, can you breathe a little quieter?" you snapped.
he purposely inhaled louder than he normally would, grinning proudly when your eyes rolled back into your brain. you kicked him under the table. he yelped, but oddly, covered it up with a cough. you glared at him, doubtful. that was not the reaction you were expecting to get.
you resumed trying to copy the crucial bits from the chapter snape assigned you all to analyse, very poorly. it was kind of impossible. you weren't used to having lorenzo sit so close to you for such an extended amount of time. ignoring him was unimaginably hard. your notes had never looked worse. words missing, constant mistakes, sensless scribbles. you reached for a new pot of ink after seeing that you had run out, and then felt his finger poke at your side.
you flinched, catching a glimpse of your professor who's head was still buried in the pile of assignments he needed to grade. he hadn't noticed you. good. but then lorenzo did it again, right where you were most ticklish, because he knew. you swatted his hand away, not missing the way he smiled to himself. little shit.
you reached to poke him too, and when you tried to pull away, he took a hold of your wrist, not letting go. he had a lot of good defense tactics up his sleeve. you didn't try to yank your arm out of his grip instantly, which was the perfect opportunity for him to tickle at your side with his free hand. this time, you held back a startled giggle, kicking him under the table one more time. he snorted, resuming his little game.
you were both sweating trying not to make too much noise, but neither of you was letting up, not letting the other have the satisfaction of winning. he eventually moved his chair closer to yours with the excuse to tickle you more effectively. your legs were touching under the table, but only because it was easier for you to kick him that way. it went on for at least fifteen minutes, until snape finally lifted his head, his eyes on the class. you separated, thinking you were being slick about it, when it was the least fitting explanation for what had been going on. the two of you had your lips pressed together, trying not to laugh. your professor could only sigh in response. at least you didn't set anything ablaze.
hermione tucked her arm under yours in the hallway when your lesson ended, grinning mischevously, "would you like to tell me what happened just now?" 
you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully, "huh? i don't know what you're on about." you played dumb, despite knowing exactly what she was getting at. and you had no idea why. it's not like you had anything to hide.
"i think you do." she pushed. there was not a chance for you to get out of that conversation.
"really? i truly don't." you still tried, though. acting foolish was your only escape route.
"y/n." she dragged out, laughing and pulling you along with her. potions were your final lesson of the day, so you were already able to picture her desperate attempts to pull some information out of you all the way until bedtime.
"what? we were just fighting." you finally gave in. you knew you would have to eventually, but you loved your free time a little too much to let her annoying interrogation tactics drag on for so long.
"so you do know what i'm on about." she teased, scarily invested.
"what else could you possibly be on about?" you snapped, pushing away that uncomfortable feeling that settled in your chest. you had no reason not to tell her anything, so you couldn't pinpoint why you were feeling so guilty all of a sudden.
"the way you two sat closer together than every couple in our year?" she exclaimed, astonished by how shamelessly you were avoiding the subject.
you gasped, feeling a bit offended, or maybe called out. you couldn't tell which one it was, "that is not what happened." that was an overexaggaration if you ever heard one. was she out of her bloody mind? sometimes you thought that she enjoyed setting you off as much as lorenzo did.
you stepped through the portrait hole with the rest of your housemates, pushing through the crowd to get your dormitories faster. you wanted a nice shower, some peace and quiet for reading, and then decent sleep. it was that simple. you survived the walk through the common room without anyone asking additional invasive questions, immediately heading for the toilet once you arrived to your dorm.
you really needed that shower. it made you feel whole again. you stepped out after putting some comfortable clothes on, skipping over to your bed and then cursing out loud when you realised what was on it. amongst your own, there was lorenzo's fucking book. you had accidentally taken it when you scrambled to collect your things once class ended.
you could have just given it to him tomorrow, or not given it back at all. like he'd know who took it. it was incredibly tempting, but it also felt unnecessarily mean. what if he needed it to study that night? you brushed it off, not like it was your problem anyway. you sat down onto the mattress, picking up a novel from your nightstand and throwing the other books straight to the carpet so you could comfortably settle on your bed. you then put it back. you didn't feel like reading anymore. you laid there, thinking. peace was never an option in your world.
you groaned, snatching his book up from the floor and venturing back into the common room. you hadn't bothered to explain yourself to anybody, and you continued trotting over to the dungeons with a neutral expression on your face (neutral as in i am very much internally raging and if anybody tries to talk to me i might use the imperius curse on them). very useless it was, that relaxing shower of yours.
none of the slytherins lounging on the sofa questioned you, your appearance was pretty telling. good thing you ran into mattheo on the way there. getting in wouldn't have been so easy otherwise. you disappeared in the direction of their dormitories, stopping right in front of lorenzo's door. you swallowed harshly, begenning to get nervous. something was wrong with you.
you hesitated before knocking, tapping your foot against the ground furiously as you waited. "one second!" lorenzo yelled from the other side. it sounded like something had fallen over. the noise was followed by a few curse words and some shuffling before the door opened.
much to your dismay, you were met with a bare chested lorenzo, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers which loosely hung around his hips. his hair was wet, and his cheeks were a tinted with a light shade of pink. he had stepped out of the shower merely three minutes before you showed up. you inhaled sharply, swallowing the sound of surprise that almost escaped you and feeling your face heat up. his eyes went wide, given that he was taken aback much like yourself. you were the last person he was expecting to find on the other side of the door.
"hi." he greeted awkwardly, pulling his trousers up a bit as if it would help. you opened your mouth to speak, then closed it. opened it, before closing it again. you were pretty sure you resembled a damn fish. whatever was happening to you, you did not like it one bit.
"i- you- we- ithinkthisisyours." you finally spluttered, slamming the book into his chest. his hand touched yours momentarily when he grabbed it so that it wouldn't drop onto your feet. you felt lightheaded.
lorenzo was kind of freaking out, but only kind of, not even bothering to look at what you had given him at first. he was a little too busy staring at your blushing face, wondering what the hell was going on and why his heart was in his throat all of a sudden, "are you alright?" he queried, concerned.
"i am perfectly fine." that was a lie. 
"ah," he nodded, then eyed the piece of literature in his hands shortly as he slowly figured what it was, "oh! thank you."
you laughed in misery, "okay!" before shutting the door in your own face. you tripped and almost fell down the stairs as you ran, still flushed and your heart beating in a way that you found a little too unusual to push away.
you received a few judgemental glares from the students you had run past. the question marks were practically visible above their heads. you were too busy going hysterical to sneer at them for staring. you burst through the door of your dorm, breathless and blushing, "what the fuck?"
somewhere back inside the dungeons, a confused lorenzo turned to face his friends, still holding the book you had given to him. he had no idea what on earth happened, or why you reacted the way you did, or why he, deep down, found it more adorable than he'd like to admit. he groaned, falling face-first onto his bed. what the fuck, indeed. christmas holidays never looked more promising.
and oh how you regretted waiting for them with so much anticipation. you were supposed to get a break. from books, assignments, essays, whatever lorenzo was doing to you. hogwarts was supposed to be all yours. you weren't heading home that year. it was your parents' twentieth anniversary, so there was no point in going back, considering that you wouldn't see them (you didn't exactly have friends in your hometown either). they'd be having the time of their lives in the alps, and you'd be regretting every decision you had made up until that point.
not only because you were already bored out of your mind waiting for your friends to return, but because you saw lorenzo sitting at the slytherin table when you walked into the great hall on christmas eve. the image of him opening the door two weeks prior flashed through your mind. it happened often, in the most inconvenient situations too. you were hoping you didn't look too flushed.
"what are you doing here?" he questioned in amusement once you slid over to him, an equally puzzled expression on your face. "i could ask you the same thing." 
"all in good time." he cleared his throat, awkward. it was weird, but you didn't think much of it just yet. instead you sighed, taking a quick look around, and then speaking, "my parents ditched me for a skiing trip."
he snorted, motioning over to the very empty seat beside him. you sat down, no thoughts behind it. he was the only person among the ones who stayed for the holidays who you knew enough to hold a conversation, so it's not like you had better options. besides, that was your chance to see if there was more to his sudden change in behaviour. you were unnerved at the idea of even having the desire to do such a thing.
"what's your excuse?" you reached over his arm to grab a piece of toast, as well as some jam and chocolate spread.
"parents as well." you didn't miss the way he shifted uncomfortably. you put down your knife and propped your arms on the table, eyeing him expectantly. he held back shortly, and you couldn't blame him. who were you to think that he'd trust you with a possible family issue?
"i was told that i'm a disappointment and i'm not allowed home until i get my grades in tact." he stabbed the bacon in his plate aggressively, not looking at you. your jaw dropped in shock.
"in tact?" you uttered in disbelief. it was practically common knowledge that lorenzo exceeded you in a lot of subjects, a little more than half of them actually, so in your mind, this shouldn't have even been a problem. he was one of the top students. everybody knew that. your parents expected you to do well too, but they weren't that pushy or strict. yeah, receiving a howler for momentarily falling behind in october was aggravating, but nothing that you couldn't bear. lorenzo's, however, were crossing a line.
he hummed, picking at his food, "don't say anything." he sighed, it almost sounded like a plea. he couldn't just ask you for comfort, or ask of you to understand. faux sympathy was the last thing he needed.
"no, it's just–" you chewed on the inside of your cheek and picked up your knife again, spreading some jam over the piece of toast you grabbed previously, "you're not a disappointment, that's bullshit." you bit into the crunchy bread, chewing it slowly, a sour expression on your face. lorenzo went a bit red, stumbling over his words before getting out a clumsy i know, followed by a hesitant thanks anyway. 
you said nothing for the remaining few minutes of breakfast, just eating in silence while other students chatted in background. when you were exiting the great hall together to return to your respective dorms, you made eye contact with mcgonagall for a brief moment. she offered you a proud smile, yet with a hint of mischief behind it. you had never been more confused.
you spent the first half of christmas day alone in the gryffindor common room, reading some trashy muggle romance novel you found under hermione's bed a couple of nights before. it was one of the worst books you had ever picked up, but there was something so annoyingly addicting about it that you just couldn't give it up. it left you feeling empty and lonely, and with a strong desire to fling yourself straight into the depths of the black lake.
"christ, l/n, why do you look so sullen?" you shut your eyes, exhaling through your nose. just what you needed. you weren't even gonna question lorenzo was doing there. you had a clue.
"you don't wanna know." you tossed the book across the room, internally celebrating when he decided not to investigate further.
he made a face, "merry christmas?"
"likewise." you replied blandly. when you didn't tell him to get lost, he jumped onto the sofa, getting comfortable next to you. he didn't look all too happy either.
you sat there for good twenty minutes, staring at the fire like your entire worlds were crumbling in front of your eyes. it didn't occur to the either of you how awful it would feel to spend christmas all alone for the first time. no presents, no childhood foods, no hugs from mum in the morning. you even missed your spoiled cousins who would nag you to play with them each time you visited their house on boxing day.
it fucking sucked, but god, at least lorenzo was there. you'd push aside everything that happened between you in the previous years just for a twinge of affection. something came over you, and you lowered your head onto his shoulder, almost sighing in relief when he didn't shove you away. he scooted closer and rested his head on top of yours, not speaking.
from that moment onward, you saw each other every day. he'd show up at your dorm at random moments and you'd show up at his at even worse ones. you'd take walks in the snow together and come back with soaking wet clothes and red noses. you'd smoke in the courtyard before bed after making sure the coast was clear. you'd go to hogsmeade and fight over who was gonna pay for the butterbeer until you came up with a nonsensical compromise. you'd sneak out at night to steal books from the restricted section of the library and then read them under covers in the slytherin dorms. you'd sometimes fall asleep next to each other and then act like nothing happened in the morning.
***
you expected it all to fade to nothing once everybody else came back to hogwarts, but then it didn't. you still took walks in the snow and argued over butterbeer and snuck out after midnight (and had to clean several toilets after getting caught almost every time). he still helped you with arithmancy without asking for anything in return, and you'd sometimes kiss him on the cheek if you were in a good mood. you thrived off of the expressions that would paint his face whenever you did that.
but with the return of other students also came whispers and rumours, following you around like shadows. you ignored them tactfully, not wanting to give anybody the satisfaction of confirming that their silly theories may have been right all along. especially not hermione. she wouldn't let you forget that until you perished. she'd probably leave a note on your grave too, so you'd have that humiliating reminder haunting you in the afterlife.
"i thought you two hated each other." mattheo deadpanned one evening after lorenzo had brought you to the slytherin common room, straight into the damn snake pit. you were squashed together on the sofa, a large book splayed open across your laps, not getting read. it was one of the stolen ones. all of his friends were there, watching you like hawks.
"we do." you responded nonchalantly, taking the cigarette that lorenzo handed you. you took a long drag before putting it back between his lips.
"then why do you spend so much time together?" draco was very obviously judging you. he of all people should have understood. lorenzo rolled his eyes.
"you are in no place to talk, mister i hate potter but snog him in my off time." blaise took your side, bless his soul, and tossed theodore's shoe in his direction. shutting draco up was easier than you would have thought.
"no, but why?" mattheo repeated draco's question, propping his chin up into his palm and observing you curiously.
"maybe, they're– wait, what do you call that?" theodore leaned into pansy, hoping she had an answer.
"masochists?" she replied casually and lit a cigarette herself.
you choked on your spit. lorenzo almost burnt a hole in the sofa. but then pansy brushed her friend off, staring at the two of you with a mischievous grin, "not really, i think they're just bad liars."
and she was so bloody right. hate was the last thing that could be used to describe your relationship. third year you's biggest nightmare was a better label for it, given that you couldn't even be in the same room as him without trying to turn him into something nasty.
present day you was having a difficult time stopping herself from trying to kiss him whenever he was in her presence. it was that fucking frustrating. you couldn't believe yourself. lorenzo was facing the same struggles, and you couldn't tell if he was worsening or subduing the tension by randomly touching you. not like you minded, you were loving it all and stopped bothering with trying to hide it from him. your ego may have been large, but your crush on him ended up being bigger.
potions class was usually the height of it all, although it wasn't the only period during which you got to sit next to your favourite rival. mcgonagall was was thriving, unlike snape, who simply could not get used to the positive energy surrounding you, or the way you were together each time he crossed your paths. seeing pure fear flash through his eyes at the beginning of every class was hilarious.
when lorenzo arrived, you felt yourself starting to smile and tried to push it away with the most unsettling thoughts you could muster. it did nothing. he sat down with a dramatic groan, and immediately started ranting about some minor issue he had run into that morning. he did that a lot. this time it was about his favourite pair of socks going missing. you sucked in practically everything he said, chuckled at the random curses, noticed every breath of frustration he released as he was rummaging through his bag. you didn't realise you were staring. lorenzo did, but he didn't comment on it. he liked when you were looking at him.
you failed to regsiter that the lesson officially began, but not much was happening, really. snape was telling you about felix felicis and how insanely difficult it was to make, while you were required to write down the most useful bits of the information he was giving out. when he finally sat down after assigning you to read an overly long passage, lorenzo shifted closer to you. you eyed him, puzzled.
"would you kill me if i asked you for a favour?" you focused half of your attention on the writing, half on him.
"depends what the favour is." you shrugged. he put his arm over the text to prevent you from reading. he wanted you to look at him. he had always wanted you to look at him. from the very moment your fued set off, it was one of those little annoying things that made your hatred for him stronger. not anymore, but it was still infuriating in its own way. you gave him your full attention. he may have seen some sparks fly. you had each other wrapped around your little fingers without even realising it.
he shifted even closer to you so that you could hear him better, considering that he had to whisper, "can you come to hogsmeade with me today?" his breath fanned over your ear as he spoke. you didn't respond, so he continued, "none of my friends want to and it would be stupid if i went alone. you do kind of owe me." ah, yes. for that time he saved you from detention after slughorn caught you two smoking in the astronomy tower. you shot him with an annoyed look. you both knew it was exaggerated and what your answer would be, yet you still played around with it. that's the way things went. he smirked. bitch.
"fine." he was so smug about it, you could choke him and snog him at the same time. he got his arm away from your textbook, but didn't retrieve his chair. you were squeezed next to one another despite having more than enough space. your arms were touching, and so were your legs beneath the table. you moved not a muscle, and neither did he. you had grown to like having him sit so close to you. it made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, helping you ignore the freezing winter air and the thick layer of snow covering the ground outside.
you met him in the courtyard after a quick change of clothing following the end of your classes for that week. when hermione asked you where you were heading and why you won't be staying in the common room with the rest of your friends, you told a half truth. that you were heading to hogsmeade, but then bolted out the door before she was able to ask with whom. she would guess either way.
"i forgot to ask you why we were doing this in the first place." you spoke as you left the school grounds, your hands shoved into your pockets and your face hidden inside of your fluffy scarf. you were a little cold. lorenzo was too, his nose was already going red. it was an adorable sight to see, but you weren't dumb enough to say that out loud.
"i wanna pick up a few poetry books." you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh at him.
"didn't know you could read." you snickered, it was stronger than you.
"you're so original," he mocked, "they're not for me. pansy's birthday's coming up so i figured i should get her something."
"oh." the disappointment in your tone was obvious.
all of your willingness to go with him left you in an instant. his presence was more irritating than ever. he furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you chew on the inside of your cheek, wondering if he said something wrong. again... or not. lorenzo was smarter than that.
"what, are you jealous?" he nudged you, teasing. yes. you hated yourself just a tiny bit for that, "no," you scoffed, "in your dreams, berkshire."
"we both know you can't fool me." he kept the act going. you gave him a shove, making him stumble. he almost tripped and fell in a pile of snow. it was very funny. he tried to get back at you, but you slipped out of his reach, laughing when he began chasing you.
spending time with him was like a getaway from all the things that drove you mad, even though he sometimes excelled at that. he became a friend you didn't know you needed and a friend you were pretty sure you were catching some major feelings for.
you entered the bookstore as your unplanned snowball fight came to an end, its warmth immediately engulfing you. after being in the cold for longer than intended, it was just what you desired. you stuck with lorenzo for the first few minutes, helping him out and leading him away from the large isle of erotic novels he accidentally found himself in. people were looking at you weird, especially your schoolmates, so you stepped away from the crowded bits of the shop and decided to check out different sections.
a certain book had caught your eye – its contents intrigued you, but the price did something opposite. you put it back on the shelf without second guessing yourself. you hadn't brought any money with you. you continued roaming through the different isles, browsing through various books while you waited for lorenzo to finish. you lost sight of him for a few minutes, too busy debating whether to make him come back with you here some other time so you could purchase whatever your heart desired.
for the time being, you'd have to leave the shop with empty hands. lorenzo was luckier and ended up getting five poetry books which all seemed to be written by the same author, except for one. he handed you the odd one out. you opened your mouth, ready to complain about your fingers being cold and not wanting to carry it. slowly, you realised what it was. your jaw dropped a little.
he had seen you looking at it ever so longingly when he went to check up on you after realising you had gone off on your own. he picked it up without hesitation. you were too stunned to thank him, too stunned to say anything, for the matter. but he wasn't exactly expecting a thank you. he was just happy that you liked it, grinning when you blushed and struggled to keep it cool.
"you shouldn't have done that." you chastised. those were the only words you could muster. he rolled his eyes, "deal with it."
you punched his shoulder. he didn't even flinch, "you're welcome."
when he threatened to ruin your life when you were twelve years old, this wasn't how you thought it would happen.
"i'm gonna kill you." you weren't exactly addressing him, more like talking to yourself.
"you're still on about that?" he huffed, pretending to be bored.
"lorenzo!" you groaned, he chuckled, "i love you too." your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. his weird confession seemed unserious, but your heart still fluttered. little did you know that he wasn't as oblivious as you imagined.
he was positively glowing at the reactions he was getting from you. his tiny year five crush on you had blossomed into something stronger after that moment at the lake a couple of months prior, and at last, the possibility of you feeling the same wasn't looking so small. if only you saw through his actions. all those offers of help, and his complete dismissal of your rivarly, and his clinginess, and how he stuck to you like glue whenever he got the opportunity.
your walk back to the castle surprisingly wasn't silent. you were chatting quietly, snickering amongst yourselves. your shoulders brushed occasionally, and so did your hands, and you thought your heart might burst. you shivered as the wind got stronger, pressing yourself a little closer to him.
"you okay?"
"huh?" you didn't register what he said at first, "oh, yes. just a little cold, that's all." you explained, not taking your eyes away from the pathway you were pacing across.
"let's hurry up, then." he took a hold of your hand, swiftly leading you back to the castle. you were so, royally fucked. you clutched onto the poetry book tightly, focused on regulating your breathing. your entire face was on fire, your breaths ragged, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage.
four days later, you caught a terrible cold after accidentally falling asleep by the window while you were reading. hermione said that she expected better from you. she was fantastic help. you were pretty sure you were dying. your limbs hurt. your head was throbbing. your sinuses were clogged. your throat felt like someone had stuck a knife into it. but did you skip any lessons because of it or at least visit madam pomfrey to see if she could do anything? no, you weren't that helpless. you'd deal with it on your own.
or try to, at least. you stumbled into class resembling a zombie, eager to sit down and hopefully not do much work for the day. you placed your arms on the desk, laying your head into them and shutting your eyes. you opened them only a few seconds later when lorenzo shifted next to you. you were met with his worried face, just a couple of centimeters away from yours. when you didn't budge, he touched your cheek with the back of his hand, frowning.
"you're burning up." he kept his voice down, but his tone was giving away the fact that your state concerned him greatly. you waved a dismissive hand, closing your eyes again. he poked you to make you look at him.
"have you went to madam pomfrey?" he questioned. you shook your head. if looks could kill, his probably would have.
"i'll go later." you reassured him poorly, just to get him to stop. the last thing you needed was getting all flustered and emotional because he was showing more interest in taking care of you than anybody else in your circle of friends.
"your later usually means never," he was right. you hated that. you grunted, hiding your reddening face. that was both from the fever and from him, "hey." he threw his arm around you when he didn't get a resonse. you leaned into his touch faster than you thought you would, just searching for any sort of warmth there was.
other students were giggling, but he couldn't care less, "y/n."
you lifted your head again, and then allowed it to fall against his shoulder. mcgonagall stepped through the classroom door shortly after that, her mouth dropping a little when she saw the position you were in. she was gonna scold you for displaying your affection so publicly, but lorenzo quickly explained the situation, and before you were able to protest, she shooed the both of you outside.
he immediately intertwined your fingers, walking at a slower pace than usual, not wanting to tire you more. as annoyed as that made you, you didn't pull your hand away, and instead kept your body close to his. he was muttering something, scolding you for being so dismissive and not getting this fixed right away. you were too exhausted to argue, but he was right anyway.
you inhaled sharply as your headache increased in intensity, latching onto his arm and stopping in your tracks. you shut you eyes, thinking it would help and ease it a bit. you felt him move to stand in front of you. his forehead fell against yours and his hands cupped your cheeks gently. you held onto him, taking a few deep breaths through your nose. his thumbs grazed over your skin ever so slightly, as if that his was his way of trying to soothe you.
eventually, your eyes fluttered open, but neither of you let the other go. lorenzo broke the silence between you, "you're so bloody stubborn."
"you're one to talk." you chuckled dryly, hugging him a bit tighter. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, waiting for you to give him a sign that you were ready to walk again. when you nodded, he took your hand again, leading you to the hospital wing.
madam pomfrey had you going back to normal with a simple flick of her wand after a tiny scolding, and then she pinched lorenzo's cheek and called him a "good boy" for being so caring. the unexpected praise had his eyes going wide and he was blushing madly – you were never gonna let him forget that one.
she instructed you to come back if the cold returned, but she was addressing lorenzo more than she was you. a smart move on her part, the older woman knew you and your headstrong ways well enough. she ushered you out only after she made sure were in perfect shape to head back to class, though you couldn't do it without rubbing her comment into lorenzo face until he turned completely red again. he had to tickle you to get you to stop and you caused a bit of a commotion in the silent corridors, but that didn't matter. you returned to the transfiguration classroom with your pinkies intertwined, all eyes on you. you two really needed to talk.
and what are the odds of him being caring enough to check up on you later that day. he knew he wouldn't find you in your dorm, or the common room, or the library, or the astronomy tower. instead, he headed to the only other place on his mind, where the two of you often hung out on nights when neither of you could sleep.
you were sat on one of the stone walls in the courtyard, a cigarette in your hand, kind of forgotten. you hadn't noticed that it was burning out, or the occasional ash landing on your clothes. your thoughts were going places, recalling the many events that occured during the past few months, and what on earth you were going to do about your feelings. you could hide them from your friends for some time, but not from lorenzo. you blew out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. being straightforward with that idiot was always easy. you never had trouble with telling him exactly what you meant. 
the fact that you were anxious about it now was the most maddening thing in the world.
"what a depressing sight." you flinched, whipping your head in lorenzo's direction almost instantly. you couldn't tell if that was luck or misfortune. you snorted, rolling your eyes and offering him the remainder of your cigarette. he gladly took it, joining you in silence.
"why are you here?" you questioned.
"came to check up on you." he replied.
"i can take care of myself just fine." you patted his back. he seemed unphased. of course he was, he knew he'd win that argument.
you glimpsed up at the sky shortly. it was snowing just a little bit. you turned to lorenzo, a pleading expression on your face, "walk with me?"
he nodded, tossing the cigarette butt into the snow. you left the school grounds once again knowing that you wouldn't make it back before curfew, but that wasn't something the either of you dwelled on very much. there were more important things to get worried about.
it was obvious that you kept dodging the subject, settling for talking about things so insignificant that you would probably tell somebody to shut up if they brought them up in conversation on a normal day. being ballsy wasn't your thing anymore, as it seemed.
as cowardly as you felt, the sore winner in you wasn't letting you back down. a long internal debate and a silent minute of self-deprecation was what it took to make you finally speak your mind... to an extent, "have you ever felt incredibly guilty about being wrong about someone?"
lorenzo stared at you as if you were insane. it was a little too early on in the conversation for him to start connecting the dots. his street-smarts were sometimes lacking.
"you sure your cold didn't come back?" he pressed his hand against your forehead. you let out a startled laugh, observing his questioning face.
"what?" you spluttered, shoving your hands further into your pockets. the skeptical look in his eyes was making you nervous.
"you're admitting that you were wrong about something?" he sounded unconvinced, but there was a hint of jest in his voice.
you bit your tongue, clearing your throat awkwardly, "yes." you breathed out. he nodded, a way to tell you to go on. he was definitely interested. you were beginning to suspect that he already knew what you were gonna say.
"i mean," you grunted, cursing quietly, "you know when you spend years convinced that somebody is an awful person and claiming you hate their guts but then end up realising that they aren't nearly as terrible as you thought when you get to know them properly?" you explained frustratedly, resisting the temptation to kick the snow piling at your feet.
his mouth fell open in surprise for a moment, but he quickly shut it, running a hand through his hair, "uh, yeah, actually." he uttered nervously, scanning your face for any sign of humour. but you weren't playing around, and certainly not lying. he had been around you enough to be able to tell when you were being truthful.
you gave him a brief nod, looking everywhere but at him. you barely noticed that your hands were shaking. you contined walking on, not saying a single thing. if he were to tell you that he could hear your heart beating, you wouldn't even have the time to act surprised.
"i have to tell you something." he stopped in his tracks, grabbing your elbow in order to make your steps halt. you faced him, looking down at your feet, waiting for him to drop the bomb. he chewed on his lip anxiously, running a hand through his hair.
"i, um," he was struggling, not exactly knowing how to begin. how to formulate that sentence, even. he wished he could just show you. he reached to take your hand, and you let him, standing there motionless.
it was his turn to panic, "i- fuck." he met your gaze. you knew that look. you knew that bloody look he gave you when you were both thinking the same thing. two years prior it would have been something along the lines of i want to kill you. but it had turned into something that was a lot closer to i want to kiss you. you wanted to fucking cry. 
you nodded, breathing out and blinking your tears away. he almost sighed in relief, cupping your cheeks, and that's when your lips pressed against the last pair of lips you thought you'd ever be kissing.
you reached up to touch his face – that pretty face you once hated the sight of, but then couldn't get enough of. you pulled back only for a moment, only to connect again, neither letting the other go. your kisses were unhurried, soft, and loving, despite months upon months of pining, despite the years of pent up hate that was, at the end of day, sort of bound to blossom into love.
at the end of your seventh year, when you were leaving hogwarts hand in hand, mcgonagall stopped you on the way out. it was only then that she told you what had actually happened that gloomy day october, the one that practically sealed your fates for eternity. the overflow of different emotions was too strong for you to have time to act shocked, and you pulled the woman into a big hug, thanking her with teary eyes. for putting up with you for so many years, and for managing to do the unimaginable.
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bratphilia · 1 year ago
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his bunny (w. afton x reader)
request: "hii!! i have been obsessed with your lillard!afton fics lately and i just have to ask you to write another. i was wondering if you could do something like afab! reader is a student in college and william is her engineering professor? she is purposefully failing his class just to get his attention and some “extra credit”. but little does she know william has been obsessed with her ever since she stepped foot in his class. if it helps, teachers pet by melanie martinez could have a huge influence on this. thank you so so much!! ♡♡"
note: thank you so much, i'm glad you've been enjoying the content i've been putting out! fun fact i was obsessed with this song when k-12 first came out. also professor!william has been on my mind recently so i'm glad you requested this!! the e-mail section is a little awkward because i absolutely hate using "y/n"
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m receiving), facial, dirty talk, slut-shaming, mean dom!william, desk sex
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engineering. your worst class. not because you were bad at it or anything. it was all your professor.
and no, not because he's a bad teacher either. he's just so fucking hot it makes your brain go fuzzy every time he speaks. he lectures with his large hands enthusiastically. he always wears some form of purple on him, whether it's a tie or his slacks. everything about him is so intoxicating.
but he's never noticed you.
not when you try to catch his eye before and after class. not when you greet him with a "good morning, sir." and every time you've attended his office hours, a fucking ta helps you every single time. it's making you go crazy, not getting what you want.
you even started to wear increasingly skimpier outfits. you always stick to a theme of a sexy school girl, even going as far enough to buy more short skirts and thigh high socks or leg warmers. the buttons of the blouses you wear paired with them are always unbuttoned just to show a peak of cleavage. you ignore the hungry and curious eyes of your other peers as you walk by them; it's not their attention you want. still, you feel a little silly putting in all this effort just for him to barely grumble a reply back to you at your futile efforts to talk to him.
so you put a plan in action. you either purposefully turn in every piece of homework late and answer most, if not all, the questions of your quizzes and mid-term until you're sure you're at the very bottom of the class grades-wise.
in fact, you wake up the day after your mid-term to an e-mail from professor raglan. the subject was titled "Meeting Request" with your name addressed at the beginning.
"I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the current state of your progress in my class. After your most recent assessment and previous assignments, I'm concerned about your future in my class if you continue the pattern I am seeing reflected in your work. Let me know if tonight at 5:00pm works for you.
Thank you,
Professor Raglan"
any regular person's heart would have sunk to the pit of their stomach if they received that e-mail. however, you are not a normal person. your heart fucking soars. you immediately jump to respond in confirmation.
professor raglan knows better than to get caught up with students, but he just can't help it! you're too beautiful to ignore.
the craziest part is he knows what game you're playing. the outfits that reflect nothing but a stereotypical, sexy school girl you would see in a porn video. and especially the way your grades have dropped recently, when you started off being one of the brightest students in his class.
over time, he noticed your lack of participation in class. at first, he chalked it up to something more serious, like personal issues. and then he noticed those lingering stares, the way you chew your pen, twirl your hair, and rub your thighs together. he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's been ignoring you on purpose. he wants you to chase after him, to let him know what you really want, but you just won't. he partially doesn't blame you either, it would be highly inappropriate for a student to engage that way towards their professor. so he ignores you during class. he barely acknowledges the way you've tried to grab his attention.
steve more than reciprocates your feelings. in fact, he's probably more enamored with you than you can possible imagine. he has all your homework, your essays, even your mid-term saved digitally in a folder, with your name as the title, on his computer. he reads looks over them when he's taking a break from grading as a way to detox, which sometimes ends up in him masturbating thinking about you. he loves to read the failed work from his dumb little bunny.
he even followed you home once. he kept close distance away from you, hiding in the shadows of every corner you turned. it's the william in him that wants that does the stalking, he convinces himself. the hyde to his jekyll; his true self coming to show in the role he plays of an average college professor, a totally normal guy with a few quirks.
your room, conveniently let him catch a peep of you touching yourself, and you swore you saw you mouth the word 'professor' when you brought yourself to orgasm.
and so he decides to play your little game. after all, you created the perfect opportunity for him, and he's going to take the bait.
steve sits at his desk, grading the rest of the mid-term papers, while he awaits your arrival. your own paper is sitting separate from the other stack, easily accessible so the two of you can get straight to "talking" about it as soon as possible.
he hears a tell-tale knock at his door, and he tries not to answer with a smile in his voice as he calls out, "come in."
you open the door gingerly, and it takes everything in him not to eye you up and down, but at first glance he knows you're in your usual get-up. it's a pretty little number; white, short-sleeved blouse, black pleated skirt that stops around mid-thigh, and white socks that reach just above your knees. you smile at him, hands clasped behind your back, puffing forward your chest slightly.
"good evening, professor raglan," you say in an oh-so innocent tone, "you wanted to speak with me?"
god, the way you call him professor goes straight to his cock. "yes. sit down," he tells you, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.
you sit down and your professor clasps his hands, leaning back in his chair. "i hope my e-mail didn't worry you. this will be quick."
he watches your face fall at his last few words and he has to bite back his amusement. "you see," he starts, taking your paper and pretending to look at your paper, "you didn't answer a single thing correctly. everything was wrong. it's funny, because i've heard nothing but good reports from the ta's that have helped you during office hours."
you lean closer as he continues. a plethora of excuses come to mind, none of which seem adequate for the situation he's putting it. "so i'm just wondering, how dumb do you think i am?"
your mouth slightly falls open. that was not the reaction you intended to invoke from him. "i—i can explain, i just need more—"
he rolls his eyes. "don't give me that. i'm not an idiot like you clearly are."
if anyone else had called you an idiot, you would have been offended, but from him? it goes straight to your pussy.
you purse your lips and rub your thighs together, waiting for him to continue to berate you. "is it extra credit you want?"
"yes, professor," you answer.
"then get on your knees, slut."
he rolls his chair back to make room for you and watches as you make your way in front of him. you get on your knees as he instructed, waiting expectantly.
"do i have to do everything for you?" he sighs in faux disappointment. he loves your shocked reaction that this is even really happening to you. "you wanted this so take my cock out."
"no, professor," you mumble, reaching for the buttons of his slacks. there's an obvious bulge tenting in his pants that almost makes you salivate.
you pull out his cock from his boxers and he shivers at how cold your hands are. you must be freezing wearing that outfit, he realizes. and, fuck, are your hands so much smaller that his. you begin by pumping him and then reach to kitten lick his tip.
you start to suck on the tip and he sucks air between his teeth sharply. it feels like heaven but he can't take your teasing anymore. he grasps your hair, making a make shift ponytail, and guides your mouth to slowly lower down on his cock. you moan around him causing a pleasurable vibration. he continues to use your hair as a way to control your mouth moving in a slow, up and down motion.
"ah — shit — stay still for me, yeah, baby?" he asks breathlessly. you do as he says, keeping your neck still as he begins to thrust into your mouth.
he bucks into you, grunting about what a "tight mouth you have" and how "you're such a dirty whore for your professor." you moan around his cock at his words, only encouraging his movements. the gurgling and gawk noises coming from your throat make him impossibly harder. the grasp on your hair becomes tighter and his thrusts more erratic. he's close.
before steve comes, he moves your mouth off and begins pumping himself. you watch him eagerly as he never breaks eye contact from you. when he does, it's when he shuts his eyes and groans, spurts of his come painting your face, your neck, and top.
you look so beautiful like this, he thinks, but it comes out as, "you look like such a messy whore."
you blush and lick the ejaculate around your mouth. steve grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. you feel a little unstable but he's pushing you face forward against his desk. he lifts your skirt, which he doesn't bother taking off, only to reveal your thong. of course.
"were you expecting this?" he asks with a chuckle. he pulls your thong and lets it snap against your ass, making you yelp.
"no, but i came prepared," you say boldly.
he tsks. "such a slut."
steve prods his cock at your entrance, making you wiggle your hips when he slides it up and down your slit. you wish he would just stick it in already, but he's bent on teasing you until you can't take it anymore. he wants you to beg for him.
he moves your hair to the side to whisper in your ear. "tell me what you want, bunny."
you whimper at the close proximity. you can feel his beard brushing against your cheek. "need your cock, sir. been wanting it for awhile."
"oh, i know," he says, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "just wanted to hear you say it."
with that he presses inside of you, filling you up inch by inch, agonizingly slow. you whine desperately, wanting more. your fingers dig into the desk. he slips out for a moment and slams back in, filling you to the hilt. from that point forward, he starts thrusting at gradually faster pace.
the room is obscenely filled with the sounds of both of your pants and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. he punctuates every thrust with a degrading phrase. it gets you even hotter.
before you know it you're close. clawing behind you, desperate to grab something, he takes both of your hands and holds them against the desk, giving a flurry of hard, fast thrusts. moans and whines tumble from your lips as you feel your body completely captured by an orgasm that makes you weak in the knees.
steve pulls out and comes on your back with a groan himself, incoherently slurring words of "whore" "slut" and "dumb bunny." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, attitude completely doing a 360.
"you did so well for me, sweetheart."
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loveyhoons · 7 months ago
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YOU’RE MINE⋆✴︎˚。⋆ | s.jh
pairing: sim jaeyun x f!reader
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genre: tatbilb! inspired, fake relationship!
synopsis: when you and jake get into an argument, you decide to get over your fear of driving by yourself and tell him how much he means to you
featuring: jake & sunoo of enhypen, ej from &team
word count: 3.0k words
warnings: cussing, kissing
author’s note: hi everyone, long time no see 😭👍🏼 i decided to put out a little au for you all since i have not published something in a while! rest assured, i hope to get my other fics out hopefully very soon, but i am currently still in the process of writing them!!
if you watched tatbilb this is loosely inspired by that movie, i recently rewatched it and was like let me write something up
hope you all like this one :)
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You stopped at the red light, tapping your fingers back and forth on the steering wheel.
You hated driving when you didn’t need to-more like when you weren’t alone either.
You constantly looked back and forth on your side mirrors, hoping the light would turn green soon. You did not know whether it was the cup of coffee you had this morning or that talk you had with your older sister’s ex-boyfriend EJ yesterday afternoon but it all seemed to snowball to this very moment.
Scratch that, it all was valid reasons why you were feeling this way- more specifically why you were feeling all these things for one person.
Jake Sim.
It all started in October last year when you both agreed to mutually get into a fake relationship.
With your younger sister sending out all your love letters in the mail (that were supposed to be kept a secret), you were in deep trouble.
According to her, she wanted your life to have some spice in it-whatever that meant. Well, what you didn’t know was that when you almost backed up and almost hit Jake on the first day of school, she immediately thought she could give you a little push. And with his name matching up with one of the letters she so happened to see in that little teal box, she knew what had to be done.
You remember running laps in PE, trying to ignore the sunlight and get the period over with. You stopped out of nowhere hearing Jake call your name. You turned around, seeing him walk over towards you, leaving you behind as your classmates ran ahead, getting further and further away.
As soon as you saw a letter in his hand, you felt your heart race. You recognized the pink paper and saw it was accompanied by a brown envelope- one with a forever stamp that had a blue bird on it, the design you ever so remember: it was the one you used for all your love letters at that spur of the moment you had back in freshman year.
Whenever you had a crush so intense to the point you felt like your heart was about to be ripped out of your chest, you wrote love letters. You remembered storing the letters in the teal box your Mom gave to you shortly before she passed.
You thought that keeping it safe inside the box was like a metaphor in a sense. The teal box was like your heart. It saved all these bottled up emotions you knew that you would keep and never reveal even in a million years.
But, it all went wrong once it got into the hands of those 5 guys you wrote to.
EJ your sister’s ex who happened to be your neighbor.
Heeseung Lee from summer camp.
Jake Sim from seventh grade.
Beomgyu Choi, your homecoming date in freshman year.
and Sunghoon Park from Model UN.
You mumbled to yourself, trying to decipher if this was real or reality. You then passed out and felt like you were in a dream.
A very bad dream.
Jake ran towards you, unsure of what to do. You slowly woke up, hearing the worried tone of his voice as soon as you opened your eyes.
You remembered sitting up as Jake bombarded you with questions asking if you needed water or needed to go to the nurse’s office.
And out of nowhere, EJ then appeared walking from where Jake came from, also holding a love letter in his hands. As he came down towards you, you gulped, immediately freaking out.
You kissed Jake out of nowhere as soon as EJ called out your name, immediately earning yourself an extra lap to run after.
Jake was shocked-well the both of you were. You could not believe you did that and was baffled over the whole situation.
What you didn’t know was that this would all be the start of your little contract.
Jake just broke up with his ex girlfriend a month prior to school starting. His ex was also your old best friend from middle school.
It was in the 7th grade when you both had a huge fight that would then lead to you breaking things off.
You all were at a mutual friend’s birthday party. It was a classic game of spin the bottle and the bottle landed on you then on Jake. Your mutual friend dared you to kiss Jake on the cheek.
And little did you know your best friend had a huge crush on him. And that was the end of your friendship. She just left you and you still wondered why it even happened.
With the both of you needing a favor from each other (Jake thought this could be something you would do in return for that kiss), you both agreed to make Jake’s ex jealous and you agreed to keep it up in order for EJ to not talk to you.
You really couldn’t face him at all after what happened, especially with your sister. You were at the last resort of options and decided to make a whole contract with Jake.
Anyways, it only really was supposed to be until the annual ski trip in December before winter break…right?
You would then hold hands in school, have the love letters you ever so wanted written to you, and the recreation of scenes from classic romantic comedies you loved watching with your sisters on those warm summer nights.
Jake would spin you around, give you the biggest back hugs, and wear your scrunchies on his wrist even if you weren’t there physically with him.
“What’s this?” You ask Jake as you hold the folded piece of paper in your hands. You unfolded it, seeing a paragraph on the top half.
He smiled, pointing towards it. “Your daily love letters Y/L/N.”
You read the cheesy paragraph to yourself, smiling. You looked up to him, trying not to giggle. “Who knew you were so good at writing?”
“It’s only for you.” Jake nodded his head. “You ask and you shall receive.”
It felt nice. You hated to admit you liked it. Maybe it was the fact you never had a boyfriend or the way you always so wished to experience what it would feel like to live in your own little romantic comedy.
But at the same time, you felt a wave of sadness knowing it was just all for show.
You knew things would end with Jake eventually and this would all be a nice dream you’d have to wake up to. He would eventually be back with his ex and your relationship would just be another silly thing that would slowly fade from your memory.
You felt like shit too, hiding this all from your older sister knowing you told her everything beforehand. After she left for her study abroad to France, you had no idea how to tell her about Jake or what was going on between you and EJ.
You felt overwhelmed, unsure of what to do.
And then the annual Ski trip came around and when things really started to become a bit different for you both.
You realized you fell for Jake and you wanted this relationship to be real. You wanted him-but this time as your actual boyfriend.
And that’s when you heard he was at the swimming pool. And that’s when you both shared a passionate kiss, as he also admitted to falling for you in the process too.
“Fuck, I’m going to look insane.” You mumbled to yourself, taking in a deep breath. You got into the pool, removing your bath robe. Feeling a bit chilly in your nightgown, you quickly went towards Jake. He gulped a little, flustered. He felt his heart race.
“Why didn’t you sit next to me on the bus?” Jake asked as you floated next to him.
“I figured you’d want some alone time with your ex, that’s all.” You replied a bit reluctant.
“But she’s not my girlfriend Y/L/N.” Jake bit his lip. “You are.”
“Jake-”
“I think we need to end the contract now.”
You raised your eyebrow. You could feel the disappointment and the heavy feeling in your chest. Shit, should you even still confess how you really feel?
Jake then grabs your hands as he sighed. “I don’t want to be in a fake relationship, I want us to have a fresh start with each other, I want to make things real. Rip the contract whatever we had written on there doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Wait Jake.” You felt your voice squeak a little in shock. “You’re not joking?”
“No Y/L/N. I really like you. Who were we kidding, getting ourselves into this situation? I feel like I’m just blabbing on and on but I do hope you feel the same.”
You smiled, feeling your cheeks burn. Nodding your head, you then placed your lips on his as he held you closer to him.
As you pulled away, you whispered in a smile. “Don’t worry, I feel exactly the same.”
He wrapped his arms around you as the two of you embraced in another kiss.
You felt like your life was turning for the better after that. You thought you and Jake could just rip up that contract and call it a day as soon as you both got back from the trip.
But things would only crumble from there.
As soon as you got off the bus the day after, Jake’s ex taunted you.
You thought you had lost that scrunchie- the first one you gave to Jake on that first week upon dating.
But why was it on her wrist?
You remember storming off, not even saying bye to Jake, just out of it, baffled as if whatever happened the evening prior felt like nothing even mattered.
Then your sister came home from France and found out about your little letter to EJ (thanks to him interrupting your family dinner on Christmas Eve).
Jake happened to show up at the same time as EJ did and the two ended up almost in a fight. Jake wanted to explain that nothing happened and to apologize for the scrunchie but then EJ bursted out and spoke about how he felt, confused as to why you were dating Jake.
Little did you know your older sister was behind the front door the entire time, accidentally hearing everything from the love letter to you and Jake being in a fake relationship.
She was speechless to say the least. She was disappointed you held everything in and did not tell her anything, telling you, you should not go through anything alone.
You cried on your pillow that evening, not even able to fully process how things went wrong so quickly. You remember feeling defeated and as if the Christmas spirit just washed away the next day.
And to make matters worse as soon as you got back from break, a mysterious person posted a video of you and Jake’s heated moment at the pool.
And you remember storming off on Jake, calling it quits.
It hit you that you may have lost the best person that ever happened to you.
And you didn’t know how to accept losing another important person in your life.
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After you and your older sister worked things out, she was successfully able to get that video off Instagram (thankfully the help center was ever so helpful).
You made amends-somewhat- with Jake’s ex who admitted to posting the video on a burner account. She admitted the whole spin the bottle situation was why you both stopped becoming friends and left you in pure shock.
Even though you did not understand why she could not just tell you in the first place long ago, you accepted it already happened.
You could not just go back in time and undo things, you needed to face what was in front of you.
You eventually worked things out with EJ. You explained everything and apologized for the way you acted.
“Who cares if it was fake?” EJ snickered as he shook his head. He shifted his position a bit on the stair you both sat on. He tried not to laugh, glancing at you. “I could tell it wasn’t fake for you. You had that type of look in your eyes. It reminded me how your sister looked at me when we were together.”
“EJ, you’re funny but I really don’t know anymore.” You replied, hugging your knees.
“If Jake fucks this up, I hope he knows I won’t let him off easily.” EJ snapped. “This is not only for you but also for your sister. I rest my case.”
Your front door then swiftly opened to your younger sister who sat in the middle of you both. She had the teal box in her hands and took off the lid, showing the contents inside.
Instead of those love letters you wrote in the past, it was filled with the love letters that Jake wrote you. All of those letters were stored inside, each folded like how he gave it to you.
“I may have eavesdropped-I didn’t mean to okay.” Your younger sister awkwardly said. She then took one of the letters and held it up. “But I hope this gives you more of a reason to get back with Jake-not that I need a ride to school or anything. Also please, I hate to see you crying over the smallest things. I need him back in our lives. I don’t know if I can stand hearing your bitter thoughts in every romcom we watch now any longer.”
You looked at your sister in utter shock.
“The kid has spoken.” EJ smiled as he stood up. He then cooed, looking towards you. “It’s up to you now whether or not you want to put it in action.”
Now here you are on a Sunday afternoon, driving to the school campus to find Jake.
You texted his friend Sunoo in the morning who also was on the soccer team with him.
It turned out the team had practice on the weekends as the soccer season was starting once again. Sunoo texted you right after practice ended and said that Jake should still be there as practice ended a bit later than expected.
So you grabbed your keys as soon as Sunoo texted back, immediately driving out of your driveway and onto the road.
Jake was left behind according to Sunoo as it was his turn to put the soccer balls back into the large shed by the PE locker rooms.
This was the first time you drove by yourself.
That fear of yours didn’t seem to matter at all in the moment.
You just needed to make sure you would make it before Jake would leave. You could not keep your feelings to yourself anymore.
You pulled into the right school parking lot and parked your car in one of the empty spots. You got out quickly and pressed the lock button on your car keys, immediately running towards the field.
As you walked into the campus and straight to the field, you panted for a little. You stopped at the field entrance, scanning the area for Jake.
You then spotted him, putting the soccer balls into the large bags towards the sides by the left bleachers. You ran again and called out his name, going straight towards him.
Jake turned towards your direction and turned his head slightly, making sure he wasn’t hearing things.
You then stopped in front of him and sighed. “Holy shit, I feel like I’m in PE.”
“Did you drive here…alone?” Jake asked in shock as you nodded your head. He put down the bag of soccer balls, kicking it towards the side.
“Yes. I drove here alone.” You said a bit out of breath as you walked closer to him. “That’s not important right now.”
“Y/N, what’s going on?”
“I’ll just- you know what, I’ll just say whatever I am feeling right now.” You looked at him and started to speak, feeling your voice break a little. “Jake I’m so sorry for not texting you the past few weeks and for ignoring you. I just needed time to think things out.” You sighed. “I am so sorry I didn’t work things out and just left you in the dark. I realized through all of this that I want you. I want us. I want to fight for you like you did for me this entire time. I want to experience the good and bad times with you. I just want you here,
I want you with me.”
Jake’s eyes widened as his lips pursed into a smile. “I’m sorry too. I swear we didn’t do anything with each other and I feel stupid for not getting back your scrunchie and just letting her do whatever she wanted to do. I just- after you going no contact with me I didn’t know what to do then with the video being posted. Fuck, I didn’t mean for that to happen either.”
What’s done is done. I am leaving that in the past.” You replied. “I just wanted to get it out of my chest whatever I’m feeling because truthfully I like you a lot Jake. I understand if you don’t want to get back together- I just want you to know so I can get closure- we can get closure, heck I think I just got over my fear of driving alone.”
“Woah slow down you’re getting ahead of yourself!” Jake chuckled, trying to calm you down.“Sunoo sorta told me you texted him this morning…I was kind of expecting you.”
Your eyes widened in shock. “He wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
Jake cupped your cheeks in his hands and sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”
You intently looked up at him as he clicked his tongue. “There is no way I am letting you go L/Y/N. We will make this work I am sure of it. You think I would really let you go after what happened in the seventh grade?”
“Not you mentioning it again, I can’t believe you still remember that…” You shook your head in embarrassment.
“I’m just telling the truth.” Jake said defensively as you smiled. He then took a deep breath and asked,”Now, the real question is… can I be your boyfriend-like your real one?”
You smiled, nodding your head. “Didn’t need to ask, I'm all yours.”
Jake pulled you in for a kiss as you moved in, standing closer towards him. And you stayed like that for a little while, relieved that you found your way back to him.
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© loveyhoons , 2024
landing page | masterlist
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specialgradefckr · 11 months ago
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I am over 18 and make content for people 18 and up. I also write about extremely dark/kink content. I'll do my best to tag any specific kinks or trigger warnings that apply. You have been warned!
Pronouns are they/them. You can call me Speg!
Currently writing for JJK special grade sorcerers! If you do happen to have a request for one of those, give it a shot! I don't do tag lists but I update my Masterlist fairly often so you'll see new works on there when they come up :)
I love angst, smut, comedy, banter, and yanderes/darkfics hold a very special place in my heart <3 You will also find fluff and relatively wholesome stuff in my fics every now and then, too!
I write almost exclusively reader inserts in second person (that’s fics with “you/your” in them), with a reader insert who is AFAB.
NSFW is tagged #lemon, and other tags for specific series can be found on my Masterlist below.
Updated: 3/10/25
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Masterlist
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Heatwave (Omegaverse) fics
Day 1 (Sukuna/Reader)
Betas serving as royal sex concubines without fear of pregnancy.
Day 2 (Yuuta/Reader)
An Alpha finds themselves exhibiting omega traits in front of a stronger alpha.
Day 3 (Kenjaku/Reader)
An omega goes for a regular health checkup that leaves them weeping from all holes.
Day 4 (Satoru/Reader)
A beta develops the ability to smell scents and finds themselves losing their mind.
Day 5 (Satoru/Reader/Suguru)
An omega is made to regularly piss themselves to show submission to the alpha(s) around them.
Day 6 (Satoru/Reader)
Mating cycles are as violent as they are horny, intent to kill is high.
Day 7 (Toji/Reader)
Not everyone has secondary genders, but those who do are considered less than human.
Day 8 (Geto/Reader)
Omegas kept in chastity cages so their pleasure belongs only to others.
Day 9 (Yuki/Reader) - In Progress
An alpha during a rut isn’t allowed to fuck anything, being made to find their pleasure through their holes.
Day 10 (Satoru/Reader) - In Progress
An omega who is not attracted to alphas learns that they are actually attracted to other omegas.
Fics
Married men (Satoru/Reader/Suguru)
Sorcerer Breeding Dark AU (Satoru/Reader)
Gojo Ate All Your Weed Brownies (Satoru/Reader)
Cutest Girl Alive (Satoru/Reader)
Is That the Whore? (Sukuna/Concubine!Reader)
Sukuna Mommy Issues (Sukuna character analysis)
Cuteness Aggression/Horny Feral (Satoru/Reader)
Suguru Dumps his Fuckbuddy for Genocide (Suguru/Reader)
Clone!Gojo (Satoru/Reader)
Catching Strays
Pairings: Satoru/Reader, Suguru/Reader, SatoSugu
Tag: #kitty hybrid au
Prologue
Alley Cat Blues
Nerd!Gojo and Bully!Reader
Pairing: Satoru/Reader
Tag: #nerd!gojo
Bullying Nerd!Gojo
Shoving Nerd!Gojo into a Locker (dw he's fine. and also rock hard)
Nerd!Gojo is Very Mindful, Very Demure
Nerd!Gojo's reaction to you (his bully) getting hate mail
Beat Your Heart to Death
Pairings: SatoSugu, Satoru/Reader, Suguru/Reader, SatoSugu/Reader
Tag: #BYHTD
Beat Your Heart to Death
Heartline Gone Flat
Fuckboy Gojo
Pairing: Satoru/Reader
Tag: #fckboy!satoru
Fuckboy Gojo
The Strongest Feminist
Gojo's Fuckboy Resume
Gojo Twincest
Pairings: Satoru/Reader, SatoSugu, Suguru/Reader, Shoko/Reader
Tag: #gojo twincest
Codependent Siblings
Fucking the Other Gojo
Do You Like Him Better?
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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 9 months ago
Note
Do you have any headcannons for the paradise lost gang? I'm dying for more of my healers.
Paradise Lost is my favorite set of character, of course I have hcs about them. My beloved disfunctional sitcom family that's somehow a hospital <3
Paradise Lost hcs
Everyone in Paradise Lost is on something. There's no way Morax can be so chill without some weed in his system
The only Paradise Lost citizen that graduated high-school was Bathin and he left
Lucifer was born in his 30s, he was born with a doctorate in every major
Becoming a citizen in Paradise Lost is almost impossible. Both Lucifer and Gamigin need to give you a vibe check and you have to learn healing magic.
Since Paradise Lost was founded after Lilith's disapearance, there are no native Paradise Lost citizens, the closest being Gamigin and Jjok
During Sundays where nobody in Paradise Lost works, each of the nobles has to come up with a fun family activity.
Be it board-games, movie marathons, walks through the forest, anything, they have to all do it together during Sunday
Lucifer has a picture of God or Jesus in every room of his castle because he is a true Orthodox Christian
Even though Lucifer has his own room in his own castle, he preferes sleeping in Gamigin's bed with him. He likes cuddling with the young dragon
Marbas is allowed untied whenever he's not dealing with patients, but he sometimes keeps the restraints on even when he's off duty
Lucifer sees everyone else as being beneath him, but he cares for them like they were children or pets
Lucifer never goes to meetings with the other kings because he doesn't like how often they happen and how little is actually done with them.
Morax has a facebook account where he posts low quality edits of him and the other people in Paradise Lost. They always get one like and it's from Lucifer.
Marbas has a brick phone because it's the only one he can't break with his bare hands. He sometimes calls his 'friends' from other regions with it, but he has no phone attiquit. He would call someone and just ask them for stuff with no hello, no small talk, no nothing
Buer is the best with phones in the whole country. He also didn't pass 5th grade tech lessons about how to make a folder on Windows. He has what used to be the latest phone model when he left Tartaros, but he only uses it to call patients.
Gamigin doesn't have a phone and Lucifer prohibited him from touching the internet. But Lucifer does give Gamigin his phone to play on during breaks or stuff
Lucifer has a fancy phone that he only uses to like Morax's posts on facebook and ignore the mail the kings give him
Depending on the type of meeting and the availability of his staff he will either take Gamigin or Morax with him during diplomatic travels.
He takes Gamigin most of the time, but if the subject is mainly about the atrocities of war he brings Morax. Morax is an airhead with no self preservation, he's used to seing people dying left and right in gruesome manners, but Lucifer would prefere to protect Gamigin from the sort of trauma
Everyone in Paradise Lost is devoted to Lucifer, but Gamigin fluctuates between "wow, he's so cool, I need to impress him" and "my king can beat your king in a fist fight"
Gamigin's also the noble that Lucifer spoils the most. He lets Gamigin do basicly what he wants around the country and he even lets him touch his angelic body.
Whenever there's a long ride from Paradise Lost to a different country, Lucifer sits Gamigin on his lap and let's him sleep there. If anyone speaks louder than a whisper, Lucifer will glare them down.
Gamigin is the favorite kid and by a lot
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It's bordering on platonic yandere, but we'll keep it light for this post (unless you want some darker stuff, feel free to ask 👀)
I've said this before and I'll say it again: there is no official uniform in Paradise Lost, Marbas just hates Buer in particular (and he wants to rip the clothes off him)
Lucifer has a photo album of all the memories he had with his brothers. There are some photos with Gabriel, Michael and Raphael in there as well
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