#it's another 5 points i have to catch up with next semester

[tardis--dreams]

You know what? I give up on this paper once and for all. I'm not even ashamed anymore

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 2: Nothing is Easier Than I Thought

Chapter Word Count: 3,654

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

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September 2015

Why you took a 6:30 PM class your first semester, you will never understand. Some part of you said it was to cram as many classes into one day to maximize your time on other days for homework, studying, and your part time job, but your already tired brain protested. Linguistics was already a hard major to begin with, you were learning three languages; Spanish, Japanese, and Korean, but you debated Mandarin, each you knew to some capacity. 

The past couple days, you have been able to feel the anxious and restless feelings of your soulmate. Whoever they were, they haven’t let you have a single day of proper sleep in the past week and with it only being the second week on campus, you were already sick of it. You had hoped your soulmate was feeling your agitation and exhaustion. 

Halfway through your two hour long class, an unexpected wave of tiredness washed over you. All the energy you previously had from the energy drink earlier in the evening was wiped away in an instant. At the front of the room, the words coming from the professor were falling on deaf ears, barely able to keep your head up at this point. Your own exhaustion mixed with your soulmate’s feeling had brought you to the brink of passing out. The anxiety that once nestled beside your emotions had faded and yet a burst of joy and excitement filled its space with ease. 

For a moment, you rested your head down on your notebook, scoffing quietly to yourself at the odd mix of emotions. Whatever they were going through hopefully is worth it. Although agitation still rested under your skin, a sense of amusement came from your end. 

As the rest of class dragged on, you kept yourself awake and coherent enough to take notes and get back to your dorm. Bursts of energy and excitement were pushed through from the bond you shared, your limbs felt strained, on fire even, but the longer it went on the more you got used to the sensation of physical exertion. The walk back to your dorm hall was a feat, honestly you don’t know how you managed to get up three flights of stairs and unlock your door before falling face first onto your bed. Your roommate wasn’t home, she usually came back later after studying until the library closed, which gave you the peace to just take everything and hopefully let it lull you to sleep. 

In your semi-conscious state, you wondered who your soulmate was. All the emotional states they had placed you in the last couple months were not what you expected, but the curiosity was eating you up some inside. When there was a feeling of genuine joy that came amidst it all had you compiling a list of exactly what type of life they lived. Were they an adventurous person that explored things outside of their comfort zone? Were they a normal person with everyday anxiety that found happiness in overcoming their fears? Did they gain the physical strain from a demanding job? 

Honestly you couldn't tell what their schedule was either. They slept at random hours, and had sudden bursts of energy throughout the day. It confused you when you tried to think about the life they lead.

Slowly, your thoughts did lull you into a deep sleep knowing your alarm was already set for your afternoon shift at the bookstore on campus. 

Their first comeback was highly anticipated, but literally blood, sweat, and tears were shed to make it happen. For months on end, Jihoon had been working on compositions and lyrics, some songs even created before their debut. Sleepless nights, countless fights, and inevitable injuries from overworking themselves has led to this very moment. 

It was 5:30 in the morning and he couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. Now sitting in the greenroom, makeup artists, hair stylists, and one of their managers were calling out for members to get ready. The contagious yawns passed through the room ten times over, some younger members were asleep after getting ready, however Woozi wasn’t able to settle in for a short nap. His leg bounced with nervous fidgeting and he messed too much with his clothes to attempt to keep himself calm. Within the next hour the group was to have an easy run through on the stage prior to the pre-recorded video. In the later half of the day, the studio would gather fans and they would perform their newest song, Mansae .  

Truthfully, he felt bad for his soulmate. The bout of insomnia he had been experiencing was no doubt putting a damper on their mood, he definitely felt the discontentment and unrest through their bond. With staying up, he noticed how their mood shifted throughout the night for him. It at least gave him the solidified idea that they were from another area of the world. Pushing that aside, it seemed they were stressed as of recent. Nearly two weeks back, there was this underlying emotion of distress that was layered beneath anticipation and determination. 

Somewhere in the final rush of costumes, hair and makeup, Jihoon felt a firm pat to his back and that same arm wrapping around his shoulder as they walked down the hall to the elevators. 

“ Jihoon-ah! Let’s give it our best out there! ” The loud and energetic voice of Soonyoung rang loudly in his ear, making him wince slightly. 

“ I’m right next to you, why are you yelling? ” Jihoon’s nose scrunched up as he grimaced, rolling his shoulders to remove the other’s arm from his body. “ And don’t yell, you will hurt your throat. ” 

Soonyoung only laughed, a wide smile spreading on his face and he continued to walk beside his shorter friend. “ Energy needs to be up, I’m nervous as hell but I can’t let that stop me. ” 

With a roll of his eyes and a small shake of his head, Jihoon watched as Soonyoung walked off to throw himself over Seokmin’s back. Their practice run was simple enough, camera direction and mic checks came back positive. Stylists went around fixing any outfits, hair, or touching up spots in their make up before they were ready for the recording. 

Jihoon shook out his limbs before adjusting the mic in his hand. Taking his position on stage towards the back, he let the nerves drive him once the music started playing through his in-ear headset. No matter how fast the adrenaline made his heart race, no matter the difficulty in some of the choreography, he took the stage by storm with his members. It was one of the longest three minutes of his life up until now, sweat matted parts of his pink and blond hair, his feet hurt and his limbs were already growing sore from the tired strain. 

However, he felt happy, overjoyed even. As the production crew gave praise for their expressions, hard work, and perseverance, excitement bubbled in his chest at the thought of performing in front of their fans further into the day. Getting back into the greenroom was no different, words of praise came from Seungcheol, their managers and staff were proud. 

What he didn’t expect in the end was the outside feeling of amusement that wedged its way from the soulmate bond with fading agitation and fatigue. His heart grew a little bigger at that moment. 

2016

How could one person be so…focused? But happy about that focus. 

It was a question you asked yourself on a nearly constant basis the last few months. Back in September, there was a nearly month-long period of debilitating tiredness all hours of the day pushing through the bond. It made your ability to stay awake and attentive in class hard and by the end of the day, you were crashing while barely getting through your homework and work. Now, in your second semester of college and a more spread out schedule, the breaks you gave yourself seemed to help with your soulmates physical exertion. 

Spring break had brought you home to your maternal grandparents who had been begging you to come visit sooner. They had welcomed you into your childhood home, still the same old decorations that never truly passed the test of time. 

“Sweetheart, go freshen up upstairs, take a nap, you’ve been working so hard and you barely stayed too long during your winter time off.” Your grandmother ushered you off towards the stairs, taking your backpack and small suitcase. “And don’t come down until you at least get an hour or sleep, you hear me!?” 

A laugh bubbled out of your throat, rolling your eyes. “Yeah yeah, Mimi, just don’t start blasting your old lady music until I’m awake!” As you ascend up the stairs, you hear the huffing scoff and a muttering of your words in a mocking tone. 

It was early, close to mid-morning, and you had caught the first train that brought you close to your hometown. It was quiet between watching the scenery and feeling the rumble of the train as you sat. For the first time since the semester started, you felt at peace both mentally and physically. You knew once you got back to your dorm, you’d only have a month and a half before the semester was over., You had an amazing internship lined up at an international business that handles multiple different contracts and if you did well they’d be willing to help with your education and continue on your classes regarding business. 

The idea alone had put you at ease to say the least. It gave you hope for a brighter future compared to the treacherous childhood you had been through. 

To say practice was brutal was an understatement. With only a month left until their new album was to be released, the member’s schedule was packed and tension was high. The lack of sleep and diets have put people on edge, new choreography needed to be hammered out, and with it being a full album, they had a lot riding on their shoulders. 

“ Let’s run it from the top again.” Soonyoung called out, but five minutes after they finished their most recent run. 

“ Hyung, it hasn’t even been ten minutes, we are gonna wear ourselves out before we even get going again. ” Mingyu protested, lifting his shirt to wipe the beads of sweat that descended down his face from his hairline.  

Laying flat on the hard dance room floors to catch his breath, Jihoon let his eyes stay shut to regain any strength in his body. His legs felt like jello and a headache was starting to come on. Lifting his arm and cracking his eyes open, he groaned at the time on his watch: 4:49 PM. They still had over an hour to finish the rest of practice. The worst part? He knew Soonyoung would get annoyed and a fight – verbal one thankfully – would break out between some of the members, which would ruin practice. 

Jihoon was even starting to grow frustrated with the recent events. He hated the fighting and he hated seeing his friends – no, his family – suffering for the reality that was being an idol. It wasn’t fair, he knew that like the back of his hand, but this was the life he did sign on the dotted line for. 

“ If we get up and get it all done, maybe we can get out of here earlier, right? ” Dino spoke up, sitting beside Jeonghan and Seungkwan on the floor against the mirrors. 

Seungkwan leaned his head onto the youngest’s shoulder, speaking gently to him. “ You have wishful thinking, Hoshi-hyung is brutal, you know that. ” 

Still with some protests, practice went on, repeating the same dance over and over and over in mind numbing succession. By the time they had wrapped up and were ready to get home, many were close to falling asleep where they stood. The walk home was close, thankfully, yet getting inside and everyone taking showers was a feat still. No one truly had any sense of personal space or quiet with all thirteen sharing a dorm together. 

Crawling into bed, Jihoon let the weight of the day slowly slip from his limbs. The tense muscles, pounding headache, and frustration that presented itself to him sometimes were overwhelming, however tonight was different. 

Through the bond him and his soulmate shared, there was a creeping feeling of tranquility. It felt so…breathtaking, like fresh air was hitting his lungs for the first time. That peace was mixed with sleepiness, not the usual exhaustion that pushed through. A part of him would laugh if he wasn’t so tired, finding it comical that they were feeling completely opposite states of mind. 

“ Goodnight to whoever you are, Soulmate. ” 

2017

How could he describe the discomfort in his chest that was throwing him off his entire game? 

This year, Jihoon and the rest of his group had done so much. While last year only brought an Asia tour, they successfully finished their first world tour. Not long after settling at home, they released their second full album, Teen, Age, where the group recently finished album promotions. 

Sitting in his studio, Universe Factory he called it, Jihoon let the notes of his most recent composition soothe the discomfort that built up. Over the course of a few weeks, the bond had pushed an encroaching amount of hopelessness from his soulmate. It was eating him alive, keeping him awake when he needed the rest to recover from the year.  Eating became difficult, motivation was dwindling to even get out of bed even when the feeling wasn’t his own. He was lucky that he made it to the studio tonight. 

The members had been hounding him to leave his room, Mingyu specifically since they were sharing a room together in their new dorm. Seungcheol and Jeonghan had offered dinner, Soonyoung offered to go see a movie, and Joshua had suggested just going to the second dorm and watching anime. Each time, he declined, only wanting to stay in and ride through whatever depressive episode they were going through. 

Looking about the room now, he sunk back into his chair, contemplating some way to counterbalance this…dejection. It wasn’t easy to fix this, though he didn’t think there wasn’t a way to fix this. You were someone unknown to him, hell he had figured out you were most likely on the other side of the world. The time on his wrist taunted him with the knowledge that both of you had a lengthy time until you were to meet.

A huff left him, raising both hands to rub them over his face to clear his head. He couldn’t even be there to provide any comfort which for one reason or another made him feel immensely guilty. 

“ You look like you are going through every emotion at once.” The voice that called out had Jihoon jumping out of his skin. 

Meeting the other’s eye, his shoulders deflated at the sight of his leader, holding a bag of what he assumed was takeout food in hand. 

“ You know, for someone that tells the other’s to eat, sleep, and stay healthy, you are really bad at following your own advice.” Seungcheol snorted, taking a seat on the couch just behind Jihoon’s desk. He took the time to take the food containers out of the bag and set the spread out for both of them. 

With unseen weight pushing down on him, Jihoon trudged his way to the couch and barely managed to miss Seungcheol as he limply sat back on the couch. “ I’m trying to but every time I try to sleep, they are awake feeling so hopeless. I go to eat and I just lose my appetite. I want to be able to help them, I do, but I can’t because destiny says we can’t meet for like 5 more years.” 

Quietly, Seungcheol handed a pair of chopsticks to the younger man which were taken and with slight reluctance, Jihoon began eating. 

“ Sometimes we have to accept that there is nothing you can do, you realize that, correct? ” 

Jihoon hated how right he was, but he would never admit it. Well, maybe he would but not right now. Not while the irrational part of himself was still blaming himself for his soulmate's depression. 

In relative silence, the two ate. Beside him, Seungcheol was keeping a watchful eye to see if the other was truly eating and was satisfied he was able to feed the other without much of a fight. 

“ Think of it like this, ” Jihoon perked up, “ Channel it into your music, make something for them that makes you feel good. Maybe lifting your mood can help lift theirs?” 

Wracking his brain. Seungcheol swore he saw a light bulb appear above the shorter man’s head. Jihoon stood from his spot and hurried over to his computer, nearly smashing the keyboard for the screen to light up again. As soon as he could see, he was clicking around for a file, an unfinished composition that he didn’t know what to do with. The BMP was on the higher end, high energy. He played through it once, twice,  and behind him, his leader was already packing up any leftover food to bring back to the dorm at this point. 

Coming up behind him, Jihoon jumped when Seungcheol’s hand landed on his shoulder. 

“ I’m going to get out of your hair. Be back to the dorm before it gets too late or I’m having Soonyoung or Mingyu drag you back.” 

“ Mm, Bye hyung.”  

And with that, he began his work once more, a re-found feeling of inspiration and creativity. It took a few hours, much faster than some of the other times it took to refine a piece and perfect lyrics to convey what he wanted. The work flowed easily, a second natural at this point for the young producer. As he worked, Jihoon failed to notice the tiny smile that was spreading across his face. 

He let his hands dance across the keyboard, hitting enter as he finally named the file; Run To You . 

Pulling up his email, Jihoon sent it to his manager and a few of their album production staff, stating he needed it on the special album, no buts. It needed to be there; for himself and hopefully for his soulmate if they listened to his group. 

You felt like you were sinking. The more you attempted to swim up for air, the more you were dragged down by the heavy weights around your ankles that you called life. 

Back last month in November, only six or so months since you began your internship. They had offered you a full time job, willing to pay for the rest of your bachelors and fund your masters degree if you stuck with them. You made the agreement to go part time with schooling, exclusively online, 3 classes per spring and fall along with 1 per summer and winter semesters. You already did a decent amount of credits your first four semesters, so you weren’t too worried until the new fall semester hit. 

Ever since August, you felt the weight start to build up and push down on you.  At first, it was small. Your higher up gave you a lot of responsibility, a large role to fill – your boss said – explaining that your ability to translate and review documentation were exemplary. The fall semester brought your classes for both your majors in order to graduate on time. You were keeping up between lack of sleep and a, somewhat thankfully, eight to four job.

 Sure, it wasn’t ideal, you lost time with seeing your friends on campus, but you made just enough money to find a small studio apartment and your grandparents were willing to help with whatever you needed. You were learning to take care of yourself alone, albeit with financial help. With the months passing, you were growing tired, not of your job, honestly you enjoyed the work you were doing, but college was tiring mentally and it ate up any free time you thought you were going to have. Nonetheless, you were doing okay in your classes, As and Bs, you were proud of yourself. 

Though, as you sat in the silence of your apartment in the odd hours of the night due to insomnia, you felt so alone… 

Your grandparents lived upstate, your friends were on campus near there, everything you knew and found comfort in from your hometown was so…far. It was getting difficult to field your grandparents calls, you were telling the truth, you were working hard, you were doing great in your classes, but you withheld the truth about your mental state. 

Curled up under the covers, staring blankly at the yellowed paint of the wall opposite of the windows to your room, you couldn’t sleep. You have barely eaten recently, you know you lost some weight, and you haven’t slept properly in about a week but you were functioning somehow. 

A part of you felt guilty. Guilty that you were feeling this depressed over something you would consider so trivial and guilty that your inability to regulate your mental stability that your soulmate was most likely suffering as well. Another part of you wanted to curl up in a corner and just ride it out the best you could, but you knew you had responsibilities to yourself, to your family, and to your soulmate to stay around. 

Now in December, you already requested some time off around the holidays to see everyone. Deep down you were praying the time away from everything after finals would be able to help your melancholy mood.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Any advice on finding a good routine to write while in school. I can't seem to catch a break and even when I do I want to melt into the floor and never leave. Not the ideal time to write. But I really do want to finish my writing goals for these next few months. Any ideas?

Struggling with Writing Goals During School

Here are some things you can try:

1 - Write First Thing - Try to go to bed an hour or so early, then you can get up an hour early and write first thing. This is something that works really well for some people, so it's definitely worth a try. It can actually become a really peaceful, quite, fulfilling moment of time to yourself, which turns it as much into a moment of self-care as a time to reach your writing goals.

2 - Go to School Early or Stay Late - If you're able to, try going to school early and do your writing in the school library or academic center. You could also stay late to do this if it's possible. Sometimes, having a special place to go and write, where you won't be disturbed, is all you need to make that time to write.

3 - Write Between Classes - If you're in college and have a long enough gap between classes, go to the library or find a quiet table somewhere and write. If you're in middle school or high school, while this won't help for this semester, talk to a teacher or adviser about whether or not there's a class period you could utilize next semester for writing. When I was in high school, we had an actual class you could take for credit that was essentially a study hall, so it's possible your school might offer something like that. Another option we had was teacher's aide, so it's possible a teacher would work with you and let you be their teacher aide, but really let you work on your writing during that time.

4 - Write After School, Before Going Home - If you're able to, find someplace to go after school where you can write for an hour or so before going home. This could be the library, a coffee shop, a supportive friend's house, or a nearby park. This way, you don't have the option of melting into the floor. It becomes part of your day, but you have to be good about not just spending your time scrolling through Instagram.

5 - Make It "Working from Home" - One last option to try is to treat it like working from home for an hour or two. Schedule your hours each day according to your reasonable availability, but also as close to when you get home from school as possible. Choose someplace quiet in your home where you can write free from distraction. Ask your family/housemates not to disturb you during that time. Put your cell phone on silent, keep the TV off, etc. Stay in whatever outfit you wore to school. You can take off your shoes, but keep your socks on. Treat it with the same seriousness you would if you were working remotely for a little while and expected to be on meetings at some point during the session. This can potentially prevent your brain from turning into goo and saying "okay, time to check out."

You may have to try a bunch of different things to see what works, and different things may work at different times. The key is to make sure you try, every day, even if only for a few minutes. That will help to build up the habit.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Can i send you a request? I’m a classical music student and the end of uni semester is hard 😪 what if Harry was y/n’s instrument teacher (individual classes) and they have a good relationship but he’s really a perfectionist and she’s putting a lot of pressure on herself and one day he tells her a criticism about her piece and she takes it the wrong way and starts crying and have a panic attack in her class ☹️

(Lets make it sweet and fluffy though 😂)

Of course! I actually majored in vocal performance my Freshman year and the pressure got to me and I switched majors lol. It was just so competitive and stressful and a lot of work outside of classes and lessons and sectionals and juries! ANYWAY! I know how hard end of term can be so I'm wishing you all the best! 🫶

After midterms everything just sort of becomes a blur in university, students are frantic to catch up or improve or maintain their grades, professors are suddenly starting to grade all assignments in bulk, and for Y/N particularly, this meant very inconvenient practice times for her end of the year jury practice. The practice rooms were constantly busy and it was hard to find a reasonable time between her other classes to put in some practice. She was really pushing herself to show fast improvement because during her last semester jury she was told that her nerves were coming through. She was only nervous because she was scared she would forget how to play or read music or count. Just normal thoughts from an anxious and panicked brain.

After that feedback though she brainstormed and decided that the only way none of those things would happen would be if she memorized her next jury piece. It had to be a piece that was at least 5 minutes in length, which wasn't a hard feat. She and her faculty advisor, who was also her assigned instrument teacher, Prof. Styles, well he liked to be called Harry, but they had chosen Chopin's Berceuse Op. 57. She had started to learn that piece the year before but for one reason or another they just stopped practicing it for her repertoire, but he suggested it was time to bring it back. It was an opportunity for her to be able to show off her technical skills while also showcasing how freely she could play. Chopin was all about movement and expression, it gave a lot of wiggle room for the pianist's own artistic expression and based on the previous semester's criticism, her own expression was severely lacking.

It was the week before juries now and due to the hectic schedules and end of term assignments Y/N was running on 4 hours of sleep, burnt coffee, and stale pop-tarts as she was rationing her meal points at this point. She was blazing through the campus to make it to her lesson on time and she just made it in, Harry hated tardiness more than anything.

"Just in time. How's it going." he asked as Y/N walked in panting.

"It's going." she huffed as she set her backpack down and dug out her sheet music, though by this point she really didn't need it.

"How's practice been going?" he asked as she settled herself onto the bench.

"Alright, been going 2 to 2 and half hours." she said as stretched her hands back and wiggled her fingers around. She was still breathing heavily, "I warmed up at my dorm before I came over, s'why I was rushing." she said, "I just need to your honest opinion on how this is sounding."

"S'why I'm here, my dear." he assured and she smiled, "Also, please take a minute to catch your breath." he chuckled and she swallowed down thickly and nodded. She closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders back before exhaling slowly, "There you go, nice and relaxed." he encouraged.

Harry was attractive, there was no denying that. He was practically a musical prodigy and his talent was extraordinary. He was the youngest faculty member, he actually started on her first year, so naturally, she got assigned to him for her lessons, a lot of the new kids did. He was stern and serious, but he also let his kindness seep through - he was just so balanced and it made her feel really comfortable around him. He was an excellent instructor and just within a year of them working together for individual lessons her abilities had improved to the point where she was made second chair to accompany the ensembles as her second year. Obviously, there was a senior as first chair, but her being that much younger and being offered second chair was a big deal. She was Harry's best student and that also came with it's own pressure. With him being who he was, it made people scrutinize his pupils even more as they were his living legacy! Y/N stared at the black and white keys before her for a moment before she put her hands in position and the piece took off.

Harry didn't interrupt her once, he let her play it how she had been rehearsing. But he noticed that her gaze was set down at the keys and her eyes were a bit narrowed. Her shoulders tense and it was causing her posture to worsen as time progressed. Yes, she was hitting all of the right notes but what she was displaying visually and emoting was not matching the easy and fluid feeling of the piece she was playing. As soon as she started to wrap up she relaxed a bit more and finished nicely, holding the last note for a few beats before slowly stepping off of the reverb petal.

Y/N exhaled d and turned to him with a big smile. This was the first time she had made it through the whole piece without a little mistake that she noticed or a feeling that her performance was lacking in some capacity. She couldn't really decipher the look on his face, but she just knew it had to be good feedback. She waited eagerly as he stood there, waiting for a few moments, taking it in. Usually speechless meant good - like there were no words.

"Well, I mean you certainly learned the piece." he said and she chuckled.

"I just wanted to make sure that I didn't miss anything. That I just knew when and where things are supposed to happen so that I'm not freaking out like last time." she explained and he hummed.

"How do you think you did?" he asked and she shrugged with some humility.

"I'd say maybe 8.9 or 9 out of 10." she said and his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, OK." he said with some surprise in his voice and immediately her stomach sank. It couldn't be good that he looked shocked at her self-evaluation.

"Was it not that good?" she asked and he licked over his lips.

"It was and it wasn't, technically you're perfect-"

"So then what?" she asked as she started to feel her hands prick with nerves. She swallowed down that awful burning in her chest, that kind when your breath is short.

"You're literally playing it exactly as it's written there in the sheet music. Where's the feeling?"

"Well I'm playing the dynamics like it says there to give it some movement!" she said and he shook his head and sighed.

"Y/N, you're so focused on making it perfect that you've completely thrown out the entire purpose of music. Yes, you would definitely impress any audience with your skill but if you just keep focusing on perfection you'll never be able to move an audience with your music." he said and she doesn't know why that hurt so much coming from him but it did, "Yes, the dynamics there are a guide for the overall tone of the piece, but you're not being vulnerable and showing us what this feels like for you." he critiqued, "The arpeggios should give me the visual of...let's say a butterfly, fluttering it's wings, right now they feel like a wounded bird, you're dragging the tempo and pressing the keys too hard in trying to ensure that you don't miss a note. And you're glissando is also dragged. You know how to do this, Y/N-" he stopped talking when he heard her gasp, almost as if she was about to cry, "Y/N?" he asked and she glanced up to him with tears rolling down her face and her mouth slightly parted and he could see her chest was rising and falling quickly with how shallow her breathing was. "Oh my god." he said grabbing her hands, "Y/N, it's alright." he said as her shallow breathing started to worsen.

"I-Ican'tbreathe." she slurred and he looked into her panicked and tearful eyes trying to decide how he could help.

"Fuck." he whispered as he took in her demeanor, "Y/N, I-i'm gonna hold you, OK." he warned before he just pulled her into his chest and nestled her face into his neck. Her tears and puffs of air were heating and dampening his skin and surely the collar of his shirt but he just wanted her to be OK. Harry had a huge soft spot for Y/N. He's known her since she started here and he'd been able to help her cultivate her gift and she had a talent that he admired. Maybe in wanting to make her the best he pushed her too far? "I'm sorry if I've been pressuring you too much. I just believe in you and your gift so much. I don't want to push you to the point where I'm taking away your feelings for the music. I'm sorry if I have." he said softly as he rubbed at her back. She was starting to calm down, "There you go, darling. Breathe in and out, it's alright." he comforted her, "Breathe with me." he said and she slowly started to sync up her breathing with his own, "That's it." He encouraged her until she had calmed down.

“I’m sorry.” She stammered as she hiccuped on her tears.

“Hey, it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize.” He assured.

“I’ve just been trying so hard and I don’t want to disappoint you or myself or anyone and-“

“Y/N, I’m not disappointed in you. I just want you to remember that being great at something doesn’t mean you have to stop showing your love for it. Show that you’re passionate about your playing! That’s what we want to see, that’s all.” He said with a soft smile and she nodded into his chest before he released her and reared back to look into her eyes, they were already fixed on his own. “You alright?” He asked and she nodded, “Good.” He smiled as he scooted down the bench to give her sufficient space, “I’ll be right here beside you. Again from the top.”

[maniacalgenius]

08.07.24

hi everyone! so i had my final exam today, which was really just an exam 3 since it was only material since exam 2. i don’t have my grade yet (as of beginning to write this post) but i think it went pretty well!! and i only needed 90/150 points to get an A in the class, so i have high hopes.

this morning my plan was to wake up at 7 and leave my house by 8 to go to a coffee shop to study. instead i woke up at 5 (lovely little gift from nature!) and couldn’t go back to sleep so at 6:30 i got up, read my Bible, got ready etc and was at the coffee shop by 8. it was actually a really good thing that i woke up early because i was able to spend so much time with the Lord that i wouldn’t have otherwise done in order to stick to my silly plan!

academic:

🧬 finished problem set 6 (last one!)

🧬 took my exam 😎

health:

🌺 read Mark 15 and 16 this morning! officially halfway through the Gospels! 🙌

personal:

🧚 packed to go visit my family

🧚 did a lot of cleaning/organizing/packing to move into new place

🧚 donated lots of things that i wasn’t using

1. painting in the bathroom of the coffee shop. i love that place <3

2. i was picking out clothes to bring to visit my family and i realized that everything i picked out more or less went together so of course i had to take a picture. and i packed SUPER light! making good progress towards a more minimalistic mindset

🎶 song on loop: “it’s alright” - mother mother (at the coffee shop this morning!)

📖 current physical book(s): the history of russia by orlando figes; nowhere girl by cheryl diamond. read a little bit of each of these in the car today. kept getting distracted :/

🕰️ hours focused: 2h 37m. study: 1h 46m; read: 50m.

days until move-in: 6

days until fall semester: 12 (can’t wait to catch up with dr sandwich!)

as of arriving to my grandmother’s house: i got a 71/75 on the solo exam and a perfect score on the group exam! also, my professor emailed me to tell me that one of my answers on the solo exam made her laugh for 20 minutes straight (in a good way, not in a what-an-idiot way) and was the best answer on an exam she’d seen in all her years of teaching (her words, not mine) 😎

another nice thing that happened today: this morning at the coffee place one of the baristas (for SOME reason) was definitely flirting with me. (and AFTER coming in for his shift in time to see me wake up from a nap 😳) then when i got more coffee right before going to my exam, a different barista took my order but he rushed over and was like “i got it” and cancelled the transaction before it went on my credit card 🥺

while we’re talking about good things, my best friend got a scholarship for this upcoming school year! so excited and proud of her. and best for last, i had good chats with other good friends!! 🫶🏻 God did such good work today

hopefully i will be asleep in the next hour. i guess we’ll see how that goes…

xx

[therealms-number1angirl]

clutching their pearls, sighing, "what a mess"

Raisa stands outside Han Alister’s front door, her backpack slung over her shoulder, and her heart beating erratically. 

Han and her had been meeting up for tutoring sessions for almost 5 months now. He needed help with writing his papers, having told her that he had struggled during the first semester when they had first started texting. This had led Raisa to offering guidance to him. 

They usually met in the library— Raisa’s suggestion. She initially liked Han during their first meeting. He seemed nice. But Raisa had known enough creeps in her short lifetime to be wary of what ’tutoring’ might mean to someone else. 

She had insisted that they meet in the library, and, sure enough, Han had shown up with his laptop and notes, prepared to learn. She taught him how to properly cite and format his papers, as well as read through and revise what he’s already written. 

Raisa wasn’t sure why he hadn’t learned these skills yet— since he was an eager student, and a quick learner. Han was vague on the details, but he had mentioned that his schooling had been inconsistent when he was younger. She tried her best not to pry too much. Maker knows Raisa wasn’t ready to talk about her own past yet with the pretty, blue eyed boy that had so thoroughly captured her attention. 

The library was closed today- some sort of open house for possible students next year— and Han had asked if she would mind meeting up at his place today. Raisa had agreed. After five months, she felt relatively comfortable in the presence of Han Alister, and she made sure that she had shared her location with Talia just in case. 

Now, she is standing on the cobblestone path leading up to the front doorway of an old, slightly run down, one story home within walking distance of campus, and Han is pulling the door open for her. 

It’s not the first time that she’s been in his house— hell, he’d brought her there and given her his sweatshirt the first night they met (which she should probably return at some point)— but it felt different, somehow, this time. 

Tinged with different meaning. 

The kitchen and living room were combined in an open concept layout. Han leads her to a threadbare couch in the living room, and gestures to his coffee table where his books and laptop are already set out. “Make yourself at home. I have the kettle on right now, I’ll be right back.” 

Raisa puts her bag down on the couch, nervously rubbing her hands down her jean-clad thighs. As she stares around the sparsely furnished room, her eyes catch on the open doorway to Han’s bedroom, noticing the blankets messily thrown across the mattress. Yeah, she couldn’t sit here anymore. 

Raisa gets to her feet, and looks at some of the picture frames hanging on the walls, her back deliberately turned away from Han’s bedroom door. 

There’s a photo of a blonde family, a man and woman, with a baby in the mother’s arms, and a young boy standing in front of his father’s legs. Raisa recognized the young boy as Han— the same blue eyes, and messy blonde hair that he had now. 

Next to that was another picture of young Han, this time next to two bronze-skinned children— one boy and one girl, both with their long hair in braids.  

A third photo was of a young, blonde girl giving a gap-toothed grin to a camera in front of a school photo backdrop. 

“Here you go.” The sound of Han’s voice behind her causes Raisa to jump in surprise. Han is standing behind her, two brown mugs with flower designs in his hands. “English Breakfast with cream.” 

Raisa smiles brightly, as she takes the offered mug from Han’s hand, and inhales the aroma. It made her feel giddy that he remembered how she took her tea. 

Was it because Raisa was so unused to kind actions that the simplest act of human decency was enough to brighten her mood? Or was it just him? 

Trying to steady her racing heart, Raisa comments lightly, “I like the flowers. Very macho.” 

“My foster mom got them for me.” Han replies, taking a seat on his couch. 

Raisa blinks, wanting to ask a follow up to that new detail, but thinking better of it— just like that time she’d asked him if he was here on a scholarship. 

The sound of their keyboards clacking fills the air between them, both of them working on essays for their classes. 

After about an hour, Han hands Raisa his laptop to read over what he’s already written. She’s marking up a sentence in his third paragraph when Han’s phone, sitting face up on the coffee table, begins to read. 

Raisa looks over, and catches sight of the name on the caller ID;

Han groans, picking up his phone. “I should get this.” Han gets to his feet, then, seemingly remembering his manners, says, “Please, excuse me.” He walks into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

Raisa manages to finish reading and marking up the entirety of Han’s essay, and Han was still on the phone. She considers looking around again, but doesn’t want to look like she’s snooping. 

Thankfully, Han exits his room a few minutes later, and plops back onto the couch. 

Raisa places his old laptop onto the coffee table. She bites her lip, looking over at Han. “Who’s the Demon King?” She asks him. 

Han groans, letting his head fall back on the couch cushions. He’s silent for so long that Raisa thinks that he won’t answer, before he finally says, “My grandfather. He calls to check up on the house every week.”

Raisa blinks, taken aback by his honesty. “So, this is his house?” 

“Since he came here himself.” Han replies, still staring up at the ceiling. “Nobody has used it in years, but when he heard that I got accepted, he gave me the responsibility of keeping the lights on.”

Raisa drums her fingers on her knee. “I’m assuming he’s the same grandfather you mentioned on Twitter?” 

Han blinks at her, as if forgetting that they followed each other. “Yeah…” Then his mouth quirks upward. “Are you stalking me?” 

Raisa’s cheeks flush. “It was on my timeline, it’s not like I have your notific— oh, shut up!” She playfully slaps at his arm, as he starts cracking up. She hesitates again. “Your grandfather… was he the one that picked up the other half of your tuition?” 

She regrets asking immediately, watching Han’s hand clench into a fist. “No. I wouldn’t take any of his money—“ Han shakes his head, his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he does so. “My foster mom, Willo, paid for the rest of my tuition.” He sighs, deeply, meeting Raisa’s gaze. “As soon as I start making more money, I’m paying her back every cent.”

Raisa blinks, not used to this much candidness from the man before her. That talk with his grandfather must’ve softened all of his usual walls. She clears her throat. “So, about your essay…”

Han nods, rubbing his hands together and leaning closer to her. “Alright, here we go. Give me your worst.” 

First | Prev | Next

[musicandwordsandheart]

Carry On

This is in no way going to be a unique post. There have been hundreds, probably thousands, of others just like it. All the same, I'm going to add mine. Because like all those thousands of others, this show means something to me.

It took me just over a decade to finish the entire series. That doesn't seem like long when talking about a TV show that ran for 15 seasons, but I finished the first 8 seasons in a single summer.

That summer. I can't hear Kansas or any of the show's other cues without immediately being transported back there, to that little post-college apartment in Vegas. Being the only one in a 4 person place because all the others had finished their student teaching and left. I stayed behind, deciding to finish out the semester at the school I would be taking over that fall, getting my last bit of training in, stepping into my big-girl shoes.

So I was alone. Just recently had my first root canal, which meant I was still addicted to the "chocolate-covered strawberry" shake I found at the nearest Sonic. I had no plans that night. I made a pot of instant flavored rice and took it, my shake, and my laptop to my room; being in the living room of an empty and un-lived in apartment wasn't appealing anymore. I remember starting with most of the lights off, all except my beat-up little Target bedside lamp. I'd heard about this show for ages, wasn't ever sure it was for me, but decided I'd try it that night. Why not?

Within minutes, I had every light in the entire apartment blazing. Door locks were triple-checked, rice abandoned, and I was hooked.

What happened next was the final and real transition from college to adult-life. I went home for the summer and, in between prepping for my new challenge ahead, I squirreled away in my parents' cool basement, bingeing this show as a way to calm my (then undiagnosed) anxiety. I stayed up too light, sobbing into the night by myself over Sam's (first) death. Then Dean's. Then the perfection that is Season 5. Then everything that followed. At some point that summer I began investing in the DVD sets, some scrounged from eBay, some purchased straight off Walmart shelves or Amazon. I finished season 8 with 2 weeks to go before I made the big move--2 months before the 9th season would premiere.

In my new life, I DVR'd every episode, had Pinterest boards and Tumblr posts full of SPN fandom. I went to a convention. I loved it so, so much.

But life is tricky. I watched religiously until halfway through season 13, when things became unmanageable and I was pulled too far under in my battle with anxiety. I pressed pause for a bit. I got my mental health and my life together, I found other things that I loved so much. And then I moved across the world.

Couldn't access the final 2 seasons while they were airing live, and sometimes the VPN wouldn't even let me tune in to catch up on Netflix, so I was sort of forced to let it go.

Last year, I started again, back home for another summer in that same house. I started from the beginning. This time, I made it through the first 12 seasons before moving back, before relying on a VPN once again.

By now, I knew the ending. I had seen the spoilers, the controversy. I had seen the real-life stuff between actors, been disappointed by certain choices, baffled by others. I had been out of the diehard fandom for years now. I had also, like all of us, lived through a global pandemic. I knew so many were disappointed with how this show had gone out. Still, in the back of my mind, I knew I needed to finish.

And today, finally, thanks to a typhoon-forced day off, I have.

For me, I get the complaints. Well, not so much the complaints, but the sense of... 아깝다. 아쉽다. What a shame. It's a shame that a show like this, that means so much to so many people, had to go out with a Covid-induced whimper, not the bang it deserved.

But I still cried. I still felt that sense of loss. This show....it means so much to me. It got me through some tough times. It walked with me through the transition to adulthood. It was my everything for so long.

Although...it's been freeing in a way. Knowing I have finished, seen it through to the end. Now, whenever I'm feeling that urge (it should be no surprise that it usually hits me every summer, when days start getting hot and I crave chocolate-strawberry shakes) I can start wherever I want. Stop in on all my favorites, or binge it all. It's always gonna be there, just like it always was.

It may have taken me a decade, but I'm so glad this show exists.

[neiptune]

ok so, sry for answering in the comments and continuing the conversation here, but the character limits in the comment section had me walking in circles (also sorry for the long text ahead, talking about books always has me rambling)

admittedly i had to google who ferrante is, but now that will definitely be a name i'll look out for the next time i'll go the library- do you have any recommendations? :))

i started regularly reading classics only about three (?) years ago bcs the ones that were written in english i wanted to read in their original language and it took me some time to grow confident enough in my english level to attempt to get through them (as you probably noticed english is not my native language😂) so I have a lot to catch up on!

what i read from dostoevsky i rlly liked (made the mistake to read anna karenina as my first russian novel when i was fifteen - took me some time to get back to russian literature after that)

as cliché as it is, i actually really enjoyed what i read of austen's novels as of now, i just started reading my first murakami so i'm excited to see what that will be like. not (exclusively) but in general i also really enjoy oscar wilde and ocean vuong's works, i have to read a lot for university so during the semester i started reading more short stories and poetry or just light romance or sometimes fantasy novels that don't need my full concentration. or i just reread some of my favourite novels when i was like 15/16 as comfort- what are your comfort books?

sorry againf for the loong text, i hope you have/ had a good day! :)

Please never ever apologize, I love getting messages in my inbox <3 Bonus points if related to books, I've been so excited to reply to this!!!

Yes I absolutely do have one suggestion: please read the my brilliant friend series. I know they're 4 books but after you finish the first one you're not gonna be able to stop: the writing is phenomenal and they have pretty much changed my life. The books tackle female friendship, childhood, competition, adulthood, the post-war stultifying culture of naples, class struggle and so much more in a way that will leave you gasping for air. If you decide to give them a go please let me know, I'd be so happy to hear your opinions! (not going into more detail otherwise this post is going to be 5 pages long lol)

I 100% couldn't tell you're not a native!!! Found myself being a lil jealous of how well spoken you are instead (obviously not a native either here haha) and I must say, I've always read a lot of classics, mostly english literature and mostly bc of school assignments! Lately I've been slacking, there are so many books I bought bc I wanted to enjoy them in their original language but eh, never really touched them again :( I miss being an avid reader and I hope to get back on track this year! I looooove murakami like I know he's problematic but his books have changed my life, especially norwegian wood! I must admit I only read pride and prejudice by austen and didn't like it, also never watched the movie, but I'm willing to give her another go through sense and sensibility eventually :) I'm also trying to step out of my comfort zone and read more fantasy, I really liked the priory of the orange tree and the ninth house! Anddd I also love horror so I should really explore it more, I absolutely love shirley jackson! NOW ONTO COMFORT BOOKS. I'm so sorry but harry potter will always bring comfort to me. JKR can absolutely get fucked but those books shall be held close to my heart forever, they just feel like home. I also non ironically loved the twilight books lmao I'd be absolutely willing to reread! I'm gonna add a few more to the list: little women, the pollyanna series, the hunger games, wuthering heights, the secret history, alice in wonderland, the secret garden and literally any goosebump!!! My turn to apologize for the long ass reply but books are a topic I love too much so I can hardly shut up 🥰

[theloniousbach]

RETIREMENT CHRONICLES 1.4

When I retired from my 9-5 job on Sept 1 last year, I found it useful to continue to apply the semester framework to my life. Since I was still teaching and school had formally defined the tempo of my life for over 50 years and informally for almost all of the others, that was an easy move. But the point was that a semester was a good unit of time to set goals, long enough to measure accomplishments but short enough to make those goals concrete.

I wrote the first of these chronicles in December and the second, as 2.0, in January as the Spring semester was starting. The winter break was far from a semester but it was a full month without anything more to do for school than get ready to teach. I had my first taste of fully organizing my own time around the goals I continue to set for myself: health/self-care; fiction, reading but also writing; and music, watching and writing about it, but also playing. In May, I wrote about my progress on those fronts (and my Galapagos trip and my sister’s death) as 3.0.

But, on the notion that I will continue to give myself grades for what I have down during these slots for at least another round or two, let’s call this installment for Summer, 1.4, expecting December’s entry to be 2.1.

This time around is rather like 2.0 in that it was up to me to dictate my time with just a little of school (some collaboration on my Gleich Honors College project (most amusingly, an aborted phone meeting from Peninsula State Park which was delayed a half hour as I got out of the park and back to Fish Creek, WI), getting a Spring 2025 Short Term Study Abroad class approved, and some general planning for the semester ahead). If I am retired with an asterisk during the school year, the asterisk fades away during the month of winter break and the three of Summer.

What doesn’t change are my three basic goals which frankly flourished.

HEALTH/SELF CARE was, I suppose a bit of a question mark, as we were away from our regular gym and the amenities that have made working out sustainable as I just don’t hurt the next day. We got an at home version of the mats that was our main resource and we found massage therapists in Door County. But, thanks to Medicare’s Silver Sneakers, we were regulars at the two Y’s there, going even more frequently, and using a wider variety of machines. I got stronger. This has been my biggest success over the past year and I am glad to sustain it over our long time out of town.

But that too was a form of self-care in that we were away from St Louis heat, able to take a sustained look at a place we had visited for a week or two every few years, and, best of all, regularly able to look at Lake Michigan or Green Bay and the pelicans that swim/fly around them. I was able to go to five Door County Baseball League games, seeing five of the eight teams and four of the fields rather than maybe a game in other years. While I won’t need to go back to the museums for agriculture, shipping, and general history, I did finally go on the days that I had to myself and have a more grounded sense of Door County. There are a couple of nature preserves and a Native gallery as well as a Door Shakespeare play to catch, but I have checked off many of the remaining boxes.

MUSIC thankfully continues as I tracked that I wrote 39 of my musical souvenirs. While they were mostly jazz, we did go to three MidSummer Music concerts of chamber music and I have begun looking forward to Phil Lesh’s weekly streams from Terrapin Clubhouse as he continues to find a way to mine the legacy of the Grateful Dead canon. We overpacked going north, but that made it possible for me to bring the bass as well as the guitar. I made some initial progress on understanding that instrument while continuing to enjoy the guitar, albeit probably not as systematically as I could. I would like to be more systematic to polish and expand repertoire and technique. I hope to have a report for 2.1 in this series.

FICTION received the lion share of the time and attention that I wasn’t devoting to school. I wrote regularly, finishing a novella, let’s call it, and starting a new one, a total of over 20,000 words. While partially living in a fictional world of my own creation, I read 17 novels (completing one mystery series, pausing 200 pages before the end of another, and getting to the halfway point of Patrick O’Brian’s monumental Aubrey/Maturin Master and Commander series). I also read a memoir on Dutch art.

So I head into the Fall semester hoping to continue to make progress on all these fronts. The challenges will be to make realistic progress with my own fiction even as teaching will draw on my creative brain and to find a way to be systematic about my playing. Watching music and writing about it, walking and working out, and reading are givens and will happen naturally.

Still, things are not on auto-pilot. I am curious what will be new.

[tera-91]

Not quite Mid-August rant

I know I haven’t written much in a while. A lot of things are going on.

Against my better judgment, and Im not even sure how it happened I still have my job. I put my two weeks in and didn’t work in my department for like 5 weeks but some how got back in.

The “full house” the manager said was there was shockingly a lie. Or at least not in the way it was stated to be for me not to be able to return. As you can probably tell, it wasn’t really a shock at all. I don’t believe 99% of what is said.

I am having schedule problems again. I should’ve seen it coming. I asked for time off, didn’t get it but I have tickets to be out of town so if I have to call out that is what Ill have to do. Its been in the system for nearly 2 months. Its not like it was a last minute ask. I know time off is not a guarantee when its put in but idk who would wait to buy tickets. I mean even today its still “pending” in the system while the schedule for those dates has been made.

Then to better myself Im going back to school. It looks like I will have to pay for it myself unless I can get a scholarship next year. But for now its all on me. So having a job is good right now. The first semester is like $600. So far for the first 2 weeks that class will be in session I am scheduled to work the one solitary day of the week that I have class, during the time frame Im in class.

I plan to bring it up to the manager. I was going to bring it up the last time we worked together. I didn’t get a chance to because all the stress triggered a medical thing in a way that I had NEVER experienced before. It sent me into a panic attack. I ended up leaving work and had to be driven to the doctors office by a family member.

The manager checked on me the next day but Im not sure as it was in a text if it was genuine or if the manager was just fishing to see if I was going to be calling out for my next shift.

Since it occurred on a Friday the specialist doctor was already closed so I have no clue when I will be able to see them. My friends have been amazing. All of them have experienced what happened before and without going into too much detail said it sounded exactly like what the doctor said it was. That its usually caused by stress.

So I took some time to reflect on it. I think I found my stress points. Unfortunately, they’re points I’ve known about for a while.

I took the next day to mostly relax. Started to catch up on a tv series with a family member. I recorded some stuff for my youtube channel.

That’s a definite stressor for me. I had a good chunk of stuff saved up but I used almost all of it. I didn’t have the opportunity to record more to keep the amount of videos saved up the same. I was on a good release pace. Having a video out every 2 to 5 days. I have probably a good 5 to 7 hours of stuff recorded but I haven’t sat down to edit any of it.

Logically in my brain I know I should probably do that today. To get a good bank of videos. I could easily get, if my memory of what I recorded is right, 10 to 15 videos and around 5 more shorts. I just don’t know if I have the mental capacity to edit today.

More than likely I will record another 2 hours at least maybe up to 5 more hours of video before I would have to stop for the day.

For now, I am taking the time to type. My book is another stressor for me.

One bit of advice I got, probably a year or 2 ago now was that I needed to step away from it. To bury my book, to focus on other things before coming back to it. To write a million words between putting it down and reviving it from the great beyond.

Two weeks ago, however, I got to talk to two authors. One had worked on their book for over 10 years before it was ready to be published. How we are kind of similar in that jobs took up the bulk of the time. So I want to dive back into my book. Their advice was momentum. Start something and see where the momentum takes you. Then go back and fix things. A book doesn’t have to be written as it is read. Its ok to write chapter 10 before chapter 2. Write what you’re inspiration is for at the time. You might have to slog the in-between sections but don’t slog and weaken or extinguish the inspiration before you get to where the inspiration is for.

But also take care of yourself. To refill your creativity need. Its ok if you spend hours, days, even weeks doing something mindless, something “unproductive” that need needs to be fulfilled before you have any creativity to give.

For me oddly enough is shows. So Ive spent several nights up until 11 or 12 watching at least 3 episodes of a show. I watched probably 10 episodes of another show yesterday alone. The first show Im not sure how many episodes I have left of that but the second one I have about 8 remaining in the season im in and then another 8 in the next season.

But momentum is my objective. If it wasn’t very obvious I am doing very little editing for this. It is basically a stream of consciousness write. Im going to finish this up, post it and then I will either finish the episode of the show im watching or I will go record some more. It depends on what the family member wants to do that I am watching it with. They have errands to attend to so if they opt to do that today and not push it off we will probably finish this episode, maybe watch one more before I go to record.

I might get to editing today. I need to kick things up some. Im not close to being monetized on my youtube channel. Im climbing but not quite there yet. One needs 2 out of 3 things to get monetized. Im at ~5% on one ~1.5% on another and the last one well im not even at 1% probably not even at 0.1% .

If I can get up the nerve I will text the manager today too. Try to get the schedule taken care of.

I would like to stay at my job despite its dysfunctionality. I need money to take care of some of my stressors.

Where I live needs to be fixed up. I need a bit more of a savings to make sure I can afford school in the event I cant get a scholarship, and there is a family member that lives out of state and I would like to be able to afford a local place for them to stay if nothing else at least part of the year. I worry about them and the latest visit I had with them didn’t help in the slightest.

[chaotic-nick]

'To the office, we go~'

(wc 816)

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x reader - Highschool AU

Plot: You and Kuroo get sent to the Principals' office.

Note: Decided I'd take a real-life event for my first Haikyuu Oneshot, I wrote this without a plan and just went with the flow.

——————

There was a war of poking tongues out in the class of 3-5, everyone who knew of it saw its beginnings in the second semester of their second year. No one thought it’d be carried on into their third year. Tetsurou, the one who consumed science textbooks day and night to make it his method of joking around. (Y/n), who had everyone convinced that her golden spoon in life was being born to an English teacher of a mother. It was between those two, and somehow it affected their classmates.

The rest of the class had watched it unfold, ending in Kuroo pulling his eyes down, tongue poked out and (Y/n) holding the ends of her hair up to call him a rooster. Not that it escalated to a battle of name-throwing and insults. Never. But they were yet to be seen by a teacher.

It was what kept their class on edge.

“This is so hard, (Y/n)-cchi, help me here. Please. I’ll buy you that popsicle— with the winning words?”

Another day of tables joined to make a bigger table where their worksheets covered it, and the windows slid open to let the cool breeze in before the last day of school. The excitement of their last day before summer lingered in the class. All of them haunched over their tables to copy each other’s answers.

“No need to, show me.” She turned to them, catching Kuroo in the corner of her peripheral vision. Already ready to—

‘Blurgh’, he poked his tongue out, pushing away a classmate who wanted to ask if his answer was correct. It was him who started it today. And in retaliation, she turned to him. Body contorted as if to imitate Sadako, unashamed as pushed the tip of her tongue out.

‘Bleh~’

“Yeah, these two will never stop.”

“Eh, my (Y/n)-cchi is cute. Tetsu-kun looks like a drunk chicken.”

It was a little game that was yet to be caught by the teachers, honestly, what would they say to them? Act their ages? They are. Act like the model students of Nekoma? Let them live a little, they were still students 

. . .

“(L/n)-san,” called their teacher, arm extended to the centre of the floor in front of the class. Her fingers curled behind the other pages of the book as she walked to the centre of the class where they could hear her read, always a delight to their English teacher’s class. 

“(L/n)-san, will read the next paragraphs after I explain the grammatical syntax. Class, listen well, this might come on the test,” she said, bending to write down the sentence.

As she waited her eyes roamed around the class. ‘Blegh’, and of the many times Kuroo’s tongue didn’t evoke any reaction from her, why did she have to fight every urge to laugh now? “Start, (L/n)-san.”

A giggle that she somehow managed to turn into a shakiness in her tone, “Ye-yes, ma’am,” not going unnoticed by her friends and their concentration being broken. Bending her head down to face the book, she started, “Lesson Name: We’re not afraid to die . . . if we all die together, written by~” still, she didn’t know why her eyes drifted over to Kuroo whose seat was in the middle of the class.

Maybe it was in the summer breeze blowing in the class. Or her mind not allowing her to focus on anything else by the promise of a convenience store trip with her friends.

Or it was Kuroo looking extra funny today. “Something wrong, dear? Is there something funny?”

It was the final touch, unlocking all self-control she had. Her mouth fell open as the hand holding the book pointed at Kuroo, laughing in front of the class. The other holding her stomach.

. . .

“Ah,” their principal raised his hand, motioning for them to come in from where they waited.

“Always a delight to see you two. How’s volleyball practice, Cap?“ Already on a first-name basis with the two from the many times, they walked into his office to ask for his signature for something. “Heard it’s well, so, what brings the two of you here?”

At this she turned her head at him, with eyes full of glee earlier, trying not to let a tear slip. Kuroo who still seemed cool-headed despite being told— no, he was yelled at. How could he be so calm after being yelled at for being so irresponsible in the middle of the class?

“For this one, Sir,” he said, sliding the slip with furious scribbles from their teacher. 

“A disciplinary slip?” And while his head was bent down re-reading the list, Kuroo took the opportunity to turn back to (Y/n).

‘Bleh,’ she poked her tongue out at the corner of her mouth, hoping that it had enough energy to send him into a laughing fit.

. . .

Tagging: @mrskodzuken because Haikyuu!

[xpeachesncream]

lowkey (jjk) | 02.

⦿ boo’d up in the daytime

⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime

↳ series masterlist

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk

genre: college au, fake dating au, friends (with benefits?) to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, kissy-kissy koo, mentions of a boner, mention of sex and cum, seokjin’s still toxic

note: posting this chapter a little early since it’s butter weekend, plus the last part of liquid courage should be up sat/sun. still sticking to my schedule in my faq though, srry loves! i’ll do my best to update as soon as i can. 💗

tags: @taegularities​ @jimidol​ @miinoongi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ggukkieland​ @unicornbabylover​ @thebeebi​ @preciouschimine​ @ladyartemesia​ @moonchild1​ @jikookiekosmos​ @marcoazz2​ @kootaes​ @wearenot7withu​ @codeinebelle​ @bigbootyjoonie​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @maichiverse​ @ppeachyttae​ @fairysunooo​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @yukiehyukie​

"I heard you were in an accident last night, babe. Are you okay? I'm so sorry I got mad at you yesterday." Seokjin comes towards you, cupping your face to look at every inch, every detail. You move away from his hold, backing up to give yourself some space.

"Seokjin, I told you to stop calling me that. Jesus. I'm fine. Don't need you to check up on me."

"Are you really gonna keep that up? I said I was sorry."

"Okay, and? I heard you."

"Really, that's it? Y/N, why are you being like this? What's the real reason?" He follows after you as you make your way to the library. To say Seokjin was persistent is an understatement— he was persistent for the wrong reasons. Like, keeping you close so he had you to fall on when things went wrong with another chick, his safety net.

"Because this is done, I don't know how many times I have to tell you. I'm tired of you doing this so, please. Just go." You slightly turn towards him as you climb up the stairs.

"I wanna work this out with you. Don't push me away. Let me help." You don't respond. He watches as you adjust your bag strap and wave at Jungkook. Seokjin chuckles and grabs your wrist gently, making Jungkook suddenly hop on defense as he balls his fists. Like he could do shit. Seokjin would probably wreck his ass with those broad shoulders.

Still. He hated how much of an asshole he was to you.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Seokjin laughs his rare, deep laugh that he uses when he's caught off guard. "You're hanging out with nerds, now?"

"And if I was, that would be none of your business." You snatch your arm away while glaring at him. You shake your head and continue walking towards Jungkook, relieved Seokjin finally left you alone today. Probably off to tell Namjoon, Yoongi and his friends how much of a bitch you've been and that you actually left him to hang out with a nerd.

Sunmi knows you're being tutored. However if that wasn't the case, she would question you, but she never take their side on shit. She remained loyal to you, and always supported you through whatever. That's why she's remained your bestfriend until this day. The senior chicks Seokjin and them hung around with though? Questionable. As long as Sunmi was by your side and you by hers, you both didn't care much for getting close to them.

"Hey, sorry you had to see that." You say as you sigh and set your bag down alongside of you on the long table.

"It's alright." Jungkook replies softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thanks." You give him a tiny, tightlipped smile. "So, should we get right into tutoring, or should we talk about the details of our deal? I have all afternoon." Luckily, it was quite loud in the loud section of the library. No one cared much to listen in to your secret deal with Jungkook, nor did anyone care because it was Jungkook.

"I do too. I guess, whatever works for you?"

"Let's get this tutoring over with first then iron out the rest." He nods.

"Sure." He pulls out his notebook. "Tell me, what are you struggling with?"

"Everything." He does a small head tilt.

"I doubt that. I'm sure you understand some things."

"No, you don't understand Jungkook. I'm legit drowning. I don't know what I'm doing wrong or where I'm lacking." Jungkook simply looks at you, lips pressed together before he nods. You're not lacking anywhere, he thinks. You're really not. The subject is just shitty and the spawn of the devil.

"That's okay. Well, can I go over some basics? Throw in some tips?"

"Yes, please. Lead the way. I need you." You chuckled, but it makes the heat rush to his cheeks. He hopes you don't catch the rosy tint creeping up on them, so he instantly grabs at the whiteboard near your table and starts to go over the very beginning, the very basics of this semester's OChem class. Maybe a bit from last semester, but last semester wasn't entirely that bad compared to this one.

He didn't expect you to be all that engaged for some reason, but he should have known you'd ask questions left and right, taking the black whiteboard marker from his hand to practice what you've learned with him watching and guiding you from your side. You were always focused, always so determined. You were incredibly smart. Incredibly beautiful.

Honestly, Jungkook go on for days.

The both of you hadn't realized it was nearing close to 5PM and neither of you had really eaten much since lunch. You sit, feeling pretty good about your first session with Jungkook. You feel a little bad having kept him for so long over OChem, realizing you still had things to iron out with him.

[sunmi] 4:34pm: hey babe, not gonna be leaving for a bit. i forgot i had to work on this psych project with jennie. you okay with leaving around 6/7?

"Crap."

"What's the matter?" Jungkook glances at you as you continue to stare at your phone and scroll away.

"Sunmi isn't leaving until later. I'll probably be stuck here for a little longer after you leave." You put your phone down, now resting your chin against your palm, nails slightly digging into your cheek.

"I-I can give you a ride, if you'd like? Plus, we still need to talk.. about stuff." He shyly says.

"Jungkook, that's too much to ask for."

"It's really not a big deal. How far do you live from campus?"

"Maybe a 10 minute drive, the next exit off the freeway." He shrugs.

"I'm going in that direction too."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We can just talk on the way home."

"Would you be willing to stop by for dinner? We can talk then. Maybe it can be considered our 'first date.'" You joke with a small giggle.

"Oh, sure. Yeah." He gives off a tiny, nervous laugh. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Can we get.. hm—" You hum. "Fire Wings? Down the street?" He almost feels intoxicated watching how your eyes gleam under the light, how they brighten and widen when you mention food. You were cute, and you didn't even know it.

"Only if you tell me what flavors you get." He tries to get smart, which makes you laugh. He made you laugh.

"Is this judgment day? Gonna see if you should call quits on our deal before it even starts?"

"Maybe." He goes along with it.

"Okay. Garlic Parmesan and Dragon." You pack up your things before shooting him a look.

"Okay, solid flavors." He nods. "I guess we can continue on."

"You're funny." You giggle as you both throw your bags onto your backs. You stay in your position until Jungkook comes to your side so you can walk by him. You don't know much about him, but he has a soft demeanor and he makes you feel comfortable. You had only seen him a couple of times across campus, not really noticing him much in class either. You feel a little bad knowing you didn't even try being that he sat behind you, but better late than never I guess? Maybe there was a reason for all of this happening. The way he tutored you today was insane, too— he was super smart, but broke it down perfectly, was patient. He was patient.

No wonder Dr. K loved his ass.

"What about you?" You picked up the conversation.

"I usually go for a dry rub and Garlic Parmesan."

"I haven't tried any dry rubs."

"You can try one of mine later."

"Okay." You suddenly remember to shoot Sunmi a text before she comes looking for you everywhere on campus. Jungkook stays silent beside you, allowing you to do your thing without being too overbearing or nosy.

But, he honestly can't help but glance a few times.

[y/n] 5:11pm: sorry just saw this, hitching a ride with my tutor. don't worry about me! ty ily, have fun working on your project.

[sunmi] 5:13pm: tutor, as in jeon jungkook?

[y/n] 5:15pm: yeah, he offered.

[sunmi] 5:16pm: okay, that was nice of him. if he tries anything tho i'll beat his ass. text me when u get home?

[y/n] 5:17pm: don't worry about him, he won't lol i will.

[sunmi] 5:18pm: kk love u b

"Sorry." You say, tucking your phone into your pocket. "Had to text Sunmi."

"That's okay. You two are really close, right?"

"Yeah, since high school."

"Cool." At this point, Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok are coming out of the café at the same you two are passing.

"What about you, where are your friends?"

"Um." He sighs, trying to avoid his friends obnoxiously waving and calling him from the distance. You glance over from behind his figure, chuckling a little bit. "That's them."

"Cute. You all are really close, too?"

"Ya, I've known Jimin the longest though." You smile and wave at them, causing them to gasp and whisper amongst each other with huge smiles on their faces.

"I'll need to meet them if we're gonna do this thing for real. Do they know?"

"Yeah kinda."

"That's okay. We should probably work on keeping it between us though." He nods.

"Okay, but. Can we save meeting them for later? They're a bit.. much." You smile.

"Sure."

"D-do I have to meet Sunmi?" You nod.

"If you wanna make this believable, yeah."

"She's kinda scary."

"Jungkook, she's not gonna bite your head off. She just has that look, but I promise she's sweet." That look, that resting bitch face. Really, you could be biased because it's Sunmi. She really only had issues if she felt disrespected. Other than that, she meant well. Same with you— you've been accused of being intimidating and having the same look but you don't mean any harm by it.

"Okay." Jungkook unlocks his black 2016 Honda Civic and pops his bag in the trunk. You do the same, while Jungkook goes to open the passenger door for you.

"Thanks." You smile sweetly at him. He climbs into his seat, hitting the button to start the car and sighs. The music in the background starts to play, and it sounds mellow, soothing— like it came straight out of a fairytale. His eyes widen as he rushes to lower the volume before shyly looking at you.

"Sorry."

"What, no. Don't be. What is this?"

"A Final Fantasy lofi mix." He begins to drive off as you turn the volume back up.

"It's nice. Pretty relaxing."

"Ya, it's nice to listen to after a long day." He pushes his glasses up at the light.

"Do you have family here?" He nods.

"I do. My mom and dad live about an hour away. I'm the only child. What about you?"

"Same. They're probably 30 minutes up north."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yeah, I live in a studio. It's actually my coworker's. She bought the space to rent it out. She lets me rent it for pretty cheap though."

"That's nice."

"You?"

"I live with Jimin. Our parents are close."

"What about your other friends?"

"Hoseok is dorming, and Taehyung would rather live back home with his family and commute. He's close to them. He'll crash at ours or Hoseok's from time to time."

"Are you close to your family?" He nods as he turns into the plaza lot.

"I suppose, yes. I'm just really quiet overall, so they think it's hard to read me sometimes." He parks and you watch as he shuts the car off with the same button. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm really close to my mom. Dad, a little questionable."

"Why, if I may ask?" He comes to open your door again, causing you to give him a small smile.

"He, um. Just got into some stuff." He watches as your body tenses while you fiddle with your fingers waiting in line.

"It's okay, don't think about it. I won't ask again."

"It's okay, Jungkook. Really. Maybe another time?" You look up at him and he nods. He stands way taller than you, almost at Seokjin's height, if not the same. He likes to wear baggy, dark clothing and doesn't do much to fix or style his hair.

He's simple, but in a good way.

You both order your food with Jungkook going first so he can grab a table afterwards. Before he could pay though, you offer to cover him for dinner as your way of thanking him for driving you home. You make your way over to the table he snags, Jungkook silently sitting at the high table with his legs pressed together and his hands clasped tightly on his lap.

"You okay?"

"Ya, why?"

"You look tense."

"Sorry. It's not everyday I have dinner with Y/N." You smile.

"Stop, relax." You watch as he slightly eases up. "So, this deal." He nods. "A month?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"We have to convince people it's real or else people will know something weird is going on." You look at his hand, now resting on the table. "You're gonna have to hold my hand and kiss me, you know?" He swallows the lump in his throat. Shit, he thinks. Don't know if I can actually pull this off?

A kiss?! Fuck.

"Y-yeah."

"When was your last relationship, Jungkook?"

"8th grade." Your eyes widen.

"O-oh, now I see."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's terrible, I know but I—"

"No, no, no. You're good. It's totally okay, it doesn't matter. I'll just have to teach you to make it look realistic and not.. awkward." You perk up again. "Not saying that you are though, okay."

"I know."

"So, are you.."

"Am I..?" He cocks hid head to the side in confusion.

"Like.."

"Just ask Y/N."

"Are you a virgin?"

"I don't know." You furrow your brows.

"Huh?"

"Look, this is gonna sound really embarrassing and I don't know if I'm even ready to tell my fake girlfriend about it."

"Just say it. We have to know things about each other." He sighs.

"I— ugh." He groans. "I did it with my girlfriend at the time. Or I guess my ex because we had broken up and this was sometime during freshmen year in high school and she came onto me out of nowhere at a mutual friend's pool party. But it was weird because we were just hormonal kids and I was just curious so I slipped myself into her only to slip back out right after because—" He's rambling, but you're doing your best to keep up.

"Because?"

"I-I, ugh. Y/N." He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Jungkook." You lean a bit to try and catch eye contact.

"I came right away." He says just as the worker puts down your food and takes the number from your table.

"Ohhhhhhh." You say as you nod slowly. "Okay."

"You can just run now." His head hangs low as he slowly slides his chicken over in front of him, causing you to chuckle.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. Stop that."

"It's pathetic."

"No. Besides, I know you'll get better overall, and you'll find someone who will rock with you till the end. We'll work on this."

"Thanks." He says, feeling comfortable around you. You were quick to reassure him and smile at him, he felt himself melting in his seat. Yeah, you were too good for Seokjin.

"You'll have to come to parties with me. Club events. Events in general. It won't look right if I'm always going without you."

"Okay. Can I bring my friends?"

"Sure." He nods. "What do you do in your free time?"

"Play video games and listen to music. Read comics, manga. Build lego sets with the guys."

"Cute." You smile.

"You?"

"Hang out with Sunmi, or just watch movies on my own at my place. Read. Eat by myself. Explore by myself. I value my alone time."

"It's nice." Jungkook's familiar with it. Even if he had his friends around, he truly liked being in his own peace when allowed. "What about outside of the public eye?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"Do we hang out?"

"Yeah we can." You nod.

"Cool." He smiles.

"Is my car gonna be a lot of work for you?"

"Don't worry about it, it'll be good soon. Just might take a bit cause I need some parts to make it look brand new again."

"I really can't thank you enough." He shrugs.

"Only trying to help my girlfriend out." He boldly says, causing you to laugh.

"Confidence is peeking through already, are you sure you need me?" You joke. The rest of the evening, you continue to talk to Jungkook about pretty surface level shit— what you like, dislike, overall experience in high school and college so far. It was a nice, harmless conversation, one where you were starting to see how warmhearted Jungkook really was. How real and laid back.

None of the shit in Seokjin's group. It was refreshing, a breath of fresh air.

Once dinner had finally finished, Jungkook was on his way to drop you off. He had parked in an empty guest spot, offering to walk you up just to be sure. At the door, he took a peek at how clean your studio was, mainly soft colors of white and cream taking over, with plants scattered around your living room area. The hallway in was sandwiched between your kitchen area and another wall, Jungkook assuming your bed was on the opposite side of it. He awkwardly stands at the door, afraid of overstepping.

"Well, goodnight Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, wait." You smile and come close to him. He swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry when he feels your breasts press against his chest. "First lesson— give me a kiss."

"Right now?"

"Jeon Jungkook, we're doing this tomorrow. People are gonna have to see this at least once while we're together." He nods and presses a quick kiss against your cheek. "Not bad, but a little longer?" He complies and presses another kiss, leaving his pillowy lips against your cheek for a little longer before pulling away. "Perfect. Now here." You point at your lips before crossing your arms.

"Y/N, I—"

"Don't be afraid, just do it. I won't kick you in the balls or anything."

"It's not that. I just don't think I'm a great at this stuff."

"Okay." You tippytoe and gently grab his jaw while you lean towards his face. "Just relax, okay? Don't think too much of it." He stays silent, doe eyes constantly on you as you continue to inch forward.

Sparks. Just sparks everywhere for Jungkook.

He feels your soft lips against his and he relaxes, moreso because he feels like he's lost all senses being this close to you. Taking in your scent. Kissing you.

"There." He stands still, still trying to process the kiss. "Not bad. We'll get better over time, but at least that looks believable. Just—" You put his hands down as they were about to fall onto your hips during the kiss, but they fell short. "Let it happen and hold me, okay?" You smile. "Night Jungkook."

"N-night." He stutters as he watches you close the door. "Fuck." He whispers to himself when he realizes he's now sporting a boner. "Jungkook, what the fuck is this?!" He continues to whisper to himself as he waddles down your hallway.

[ahtsumu]

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu​! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving. 

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

[teddy06writes]

could we have more sapnap x karl x quackity x reader maybe about how reader joins, or how the relationship is revealed, or angst, also is there a reason that anon asks are turned off? i mean it might just be me also cause i cant switch to anon, ik that hairbrush anon loves this blog and wants to request but they cant cause anon is turned off, (i know hairbrush anon irl so thats how ik this for some background context) sorry if this is rude

anon: “ Your karlnapity fanfics are sooooo good. I was wondering if you could make another one, it could be about literally anything and I’ll read it. Keep up the great work! “

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: swearing, mentions of panic attacks

premise: how you joined the Karlnapity poly cue

{also the anon thing was fixed once I got this ask}

“belp” talking

‘blep’ texting

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t meet them intentionally, far from, actually, you had only met Alex, the first of the boys you’d met, by pure chance.

Well, pure chance, and an asshole who didn’t look where he was going outside A hall.

~~

You had just emerged from your first class of the year, a debate class, with maybe 50 students total, and were immediately slammed into by some jerk who didn’t even stop at first.

You had fallen into someone, who after making sure you were stood up right began to cuss the guy out in Spanish.

“You got something to say to me, dick?” The guy had asked as he turned around.

“Yeah bitch! Why the hell did you push them?”

If you thought this dudes 5′ 9′’ ass wasn’t gonna square up to a huge football player you’d’ve been wrong.

“They were the one who didn’t fucking move, so don’t fucking start with me!”

“Bro you literally slammed into them! You could’ve fucking moved man!” He shoved the guys shoulder, “You didn’t have to take the asshole route, yet we’re still here.”

“Listen Dick, I don’t give a shit, they were in the fucking way.”

“Man your really looking for a fucking fight are you?” He shrugged off his back pack and let it drop to the ground.

The guys laughed, pushing up his sleeves, “I could take your scrawny ass any day, chicca.”

Before he had a chance to blink a fist had been launched toward his face, catching him right in the jaw.

He stumbled back, looking almost as surprised as the guy you’d tripped into, who was looking down at his own fist, clearly in pain.

“Oh you little bitch!” The jock growled, moving to punch him back.

Quickly you scooped up his bag, shoving it into his arms, “We gotta go!!” You shoved the guy, grabbing your saviors hand and tugging him along as you started to run.

As you dodged around campus, trying to lose the yell of the jock behind you the guy who you’d dragged with, offered, “I’m Alex.”

“(y/n),” You slowed to a stop, “I think we lost him.”

Alex nodded, wincing as he examined his knuckles.

You took his hand, checking over it carefully, “It’ll bruise hard, you might not have full dexterity for a while. That’s what you get for punching someone without preparing,” You chuckled, glancing around, “My dorm’s not more than five minutes away, if you don’t have another class to get too, we can go get you some ice.”

“That’d be good.” He winced.

After taking him back to your dorm and getting his hand iced, he disappeared, saying he was late to meet someone, and you rarely saw him again except for your debate class, where you hardly spoke.

~~ You’d met Nick not too long after, though this time, pure chance was more purely your friend George catching you sneaking out of a party you didn’t want to be at.

“Seriously (y/n)? It’s barley even been an hour!” The brit yelled.

“It’s way too loud in there,” You hissed, motioning to the frat house, “I can’t hardly think, let alone stand it.”

“George! Get back in here! Clay challenged someone to a drinking contest and it about to start!” Someone yelled from the house.

“Yeah, in a second Sapnap!” He called before turning back to you, “Stay a little while longer?”

“I don’t want to be here.” You growled, but he was already dragging you back towards the house, saying:

“Come on, it’ll be entertaining if he wins and if not, well, it’ll still be pretty funny.”

Sighing, you allowed yourself to be pulled back inside, following George through to where Clay stood across a counter from a curly dark haired man, and Niki, a woman you’d met a few weeks prior, quietly pouring shots.

“Now the only reason I’m letting you do this Wil, is cause I know you won’t be able to do more than three.” She muttered, sliding the shots between them.

George laughed, “This is gonna be great!”

You sighed, moving to stand back against one of the walls, next to a dirty blonde man, who said, “You don’t look to happy to be here.”

“Not a fan of the noise.” You muttered, rubbing at your forehead.

He nodded, “Makes sense, one of my boyfriends doesn’t like the noise either. I’m Nick.”

“Didn’t George just call you Sapnap? What is with people around here and having weird nicknames?” You shook your head with another sigh, “I’m (y/n).”

“I dunno. Half the people I know at this school have weird nicknames,” He began to point at various people around the room, “Dream, Fundy, Skeppy, Hbomb, Quackity’s around here somewhere. Hell I even know someone who calls himself ‘Technoblade’.”

“Sounds like a prick.” You chuckled.

Nick nodded, “Oh he is.”

You continued to talk for a while, watching as Wilbur tried to out drink Clay, and failing miserably not to laugh when he nearly fell down, totally wasted.

“Hey, uh I think we should head out. I feel bad leaving Kar...” Alex trailed off as he realized you were standing with Nick, “Hey, your uh, (y/n) right?”

“Yeah, Alex, you almost busted your knuckles trying to fight McAllen outside debate with Fenner.” You chuckled.

Nick turned to Alex, “You what?!”

“uhh...” he stuttered nervously.

“You told Karl you fell!”

“In my defense he pushed- no not even- he slammed into (y/n)!” Alex said desperately.

“He did, Alex was just defending me,” Alex grinned at your addition, “But...” his face fell, “This one also is essentially just an angry chihuahua.”

“Dude!”

Nick chuckled, “Their right. You are an angry chihuahua.”

Alex rolled his eyes, glancing at his phone, “We should go, Karl’s texting me angry emojis.”

Nick nodded, “It was nice to meet you (y/n).”

“You too.” You smiled, and then they were gone again.

~~

You didn’t meet Karl for almost a month after that, only encountering the man in the colorful sweater when you had been left sitting alone in the dining hall, after a late night study session.

Niki had left a few minutes earlier, but it was long enough that he’d assumed you’d been sitting alone.

“Oh hey, sorry I’m late!” He had called, just a hair too loud.

You blinked up at the mousy haired boy, confused for a moment, before motioning for him to sit down, “It’s okay.”

The few people still left in the hall barley paid attention, so you stifled a laugh, “I wasn’t waiting for someone, my friend just left actually.”

His face got red, “Oh, I- sorry- I’ll just leave then.”

He started to stand up but you held out a hand, “No- uh- you, can stay. I don’t mind.”

He grinned, “I’m Karl! Karl Jacobs!”

“I’m (y/n). Thank you for trying to save me from mild embarrassment.”

“It was nothin, just don’t think people should have to be alone.”

You giggled, “Knight in shining armor.”

That made Karl grin even more, giggling a bit as he asked, “Whatcha working on?”

“Oh, Niki and I were just studying for finals, it may be a few weeks away but I want to be ready.” You chuckled.

“Man, I’m glad I’m only taking one class this semester.”

“Lucky.” You sighed, tucking the last of your papers into folders and stowing them away in your bag, “No late night cram sessions for you then.”

“Nah, my boyfriends’ll rope me into helping them study.”

“Thats the price you pay.” You chuckled.

He nodded solemnly, “A price I am very willing to pay.”

“They sound like lucky guys.” You smiled wistfully, quietly wondering why all the cute guys you’d been meeting were dating, either other people, or each other.

Karl not noticing the almost bitterness in your voice chirped, “Yup!”

~~

“Come on! They’d love you!” Karl exclaimed.

You’d been becoming friends with Karl over the last few months, and now he was begging you to go and meet his partners.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Karl was practically bouncing up and down, “Your like the best! I want my boys to meet you!”

You groaned, letting your head fall into your hands, “Fine.”

“Yay!” Karl giggled, tugging at your wrist, “Come on!”

You looked up from the table at him. “Right now?”

“Yeah, I was suppose to be meeting them at the library.”

Sighing you stood up, “I hate this.”

He smiled sympathetically, “Sorry.”

You slipped your bag over your shoulder, and followed him out of the dining hall towards the library, trying to ignore the stupid feeling in your stomach at his hand in yours.

Upon reaching the library Karl excitedly dragged you over to a table in the corner where your stomach dropped upon seeing who was sitting there.

“(y/n)?” Alex asked.

You chuckled, “Snapmap and Chihuahua boy, I didn’t realize this Karl was your Karl.”

Karl looked confused, looking back and forth between you and his boyfriends, “You guys know each other?”

“That one talked to me at a party when my friends all but ditched me,” You pointed at Nick, and then too Alex, “That one tried to fight someone who bumped into me.”

“Thats- you know what, I’m not gonna ask.” Karl said, plopping down next to Alex.

You sat down on the opposite side of the table next to Nick, “Karl you text in angry emojis?”

~~

Over the next few weeks Karl continued to drag you along to various study sessions, movie nights and other things you assumed would normally just be the three of them, making you confused heart even more confused.

It was strange that they willingly let you intrude on there dates, and any time you tried to bring it up with Karl he’d just brush it off, and if you mentioned it to Nick or Alex, they’d say something about how they were good with it cause Karl was.

And then one night, you were all piled up on the fire escape of the boys apartment building, Alex had just gotten back from a seminar, and was half curled on Nick’s lap, legs stretch across Karl, who was also leaning against Nick.

You quietly hummed a song you heard Wilbur playing, freezing as Karl tugged on your hand, pulling you closer to lean on him, Nick’s arm stretching just a bit farther to wrap around your waist as well, almost cementing you into the moment.

“I like this.” Karl murmured.

Alex nodded sleepily, and Nick looked at your over Karl’s head, “(y/n), uh- I guess we’ve been meaning to- uh- to ask-”

“He means, do- do you want to join this relationship?” Alex asked, cutting him off.

You blinked, surprised, and Karl quickly started talking in your silence, “You don’t have too, we just figured, you know, we, really like, you and- it- we think you like us-”

Cutting him off, you grabbed the sides of his face, quickly pressing your lips to his, and then pulling away, you leaned over to kiss Nick, and then Alex.

“I knew there was a reason you kept letting me in on your dates!”

[jxsatlas]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍 ⇢ keith kogane, ch. 1

keith kogane x gn! reader – next

DISCLAIMER! this story does not originally belong to me, the author is @MaddieWolf37 on Wattpad. i have simply received permission to rewrite and continue her story. go and check out her profile for the original version!

SYNOPSIS! a story in which you are thrown into the middle of an intergalactic space war and have the undesirable weight of being a symbol of peace dropped on your shoulders. but maybe if you look past the constant danger and endless fighting, there's some good to being a paladin of voltron.

MATURE CONTENT! swearing, violence, gore, war, graphic descriptions, mentions of self-harm

"Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14," Lance announces, "Begin descent to Kerberos for a rescue mission."

He shoves the yoke forward and the aircraft takes a steep dive. You plant your feet to help fight against the inertia. You give him a sharp glare as the aircraft steadies out.

"Ugh, Lance, can you keep this thing straight?" Hunk whines from the back.

You look over your shoulder and recognise the nauseated expression on his face all too well. Last semester, there was a girl on your team that didn't do too well with excessive motion and often got sick.

Lance brushes him off. "Relax Hunk, I'm just getting a feel for the stick," he says with a lazy grin, which quickly turns mischievous. "It's not like I did this, or this!" Lance jerks the aircraft side to side, making Hunk feel worse.

"Knock it off, Lance," you warn from your chair next to him. You reach up above you and press a few buttons in hopes of stabilising the aircraft out after Lance's little joke.

"Yeah, listen to [y/n] unless you wanna wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies of this thing," Hunk groans angrily.

"We've picked up a distress signal!" Pidge says from his seat in the back.

"Alright, time to quit our bickering and get serious," you say, doing your own little thing to accommodate for the lower altitude while Lance flies the aircraft.

"Pidge, track the coordinates," Lance says with a roll of his eyes at your comment.

Pidge does so, typing away on the computer. The aircraft gives a large rumble and Hunk groans again.

"Knock it off, Lance! Please!" he whines, his face all scrunched up in discomfort.

"Oh, that's on you buddy," Lance says sharply. "We got a hydraulic stabiliser out."

Hunk nods and goes to fix it, but when the aircraft shakes again he gags. "Oh no."

"Oh no, fix now, puke later," Lance growls.

So much bickering... you think to yourself with a sigh.

"I lost contact!" Pidge says. "The shaking is interfering with our sensors."

Lance looks over his shoulder at Hunk. "Come on, dude!"

"Sorry, it's not responding," Hunk says and unfastens his safety belt. He carefully gets up and makes his way over to the gearbox to see what's up.

"Coordinates are back," you say, seeing the blue dot on the dash.

"Nevermind Hunk," Lance says.

"No, he still needs to fix it," you say. "We can't properly fly this thing if a hydraulic stabiliser is out."

"Whatever," Lance rolls his eyes, "Preparing for approach on visual."

"I don't think that's advisable, given our current mechanical..." Pidge warns, trailing off when he hears Hunk gag again. "...and gastrointestinal issues..."

"Agreed!" Hunk says, not before quickly emptying his stomach into the gearbox with the unsavoury sounds of food chunks and liquid hitting the metal. You cringe, not liking the sound, and hope he's okay.

"Stop worrying," Lance says dismissively.

"No, they're right," you say firmly as you place your attention on Lance now. "We should wait before we do anything."

"Nah, this baby can take it! Can't ya champ?" Lance coos and pats the dash. The aircraft rumbles again and he retracts his hand with a sheepish look. "See? She was nodding!"

"That wasn't nodding Lance," you deadpan. "Now listen to us and wait."

"I'm the one flying this thing, aren't I?" Lance asks. "So I'm in charge, and that means what I say goes!"

"Excuse you, we're both flying this thing," you argue.

Ignoring you, Lance turns to Pidge. "Pidge, hail down on them and let them know their ride is here," he says.

Knowing that you're now doomed, you keep your mouth shut and wait for the inevitable failure of the simulation. You can already see it, the big, bold, red letters appearing on the dash.

And when Lance flies towards an overhang, tilting the plane as much as he can in a sad attempt to thread through the little hole rather than going over or around, you know this is where you fail.

Lance doesn't make it. The wing gets torn off, the alarms blare, and the aircraft pummels to the ground. The dash goes black and those red letters you were anticipating appear without hesitation.

Simulation Failed.

The first failure on your school record.

You toss your head back and sharply exhale, frustration building up in you. "Nice going," you grumble and look at Lance through the corner of your eye.

He catches your gaze and glares at you. "Oh, shut up," he growls.

The four of you sit in silence for a second, you and Lance glaring at each other, before an instructor opens the door and beckons you to come out.

Reluctantly, you all unfasten your safety belts and crawl out of the aircraft. You then mentally prepare yourselves for the lecture about how you are all failures to come.

You, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge line up before the Commander, avoiding his scowling gaze.

"Let's see if we can't use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you," Commander Iverson's voice booms angrily. He's not at all impressed with your behaviour. "Can anyone point out the mistakes these so-called cadets made during the simulator?"

"The engineer puked in the main gearbox!" a boy from the back of the group of students shouts out. Iverson nods and turns to Hunk.

"Yes. Everyone knows vomit is not an approved lubricant for engine systems," Iverson sharply criticises Hunk. He turns back to the students. "What else?"

"The comms-spec removed his safety harness," a girl points out.

"The pilot crashed!" another shouts.

Iverson nods, approving of all the answers given. "And worst of all, the whole jump they're arguing with each other," he growls and turns to the four of you once more.

You keep your gaze on the ground shamefully.

"The Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets like you into the next generation of elite astro-explorers," Iverson lectures. His hands are on his hips as he looks down at you. "But these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what caused the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission."

In your peripherals, you notice Pidge clench his fists at his sides and scrunch his nose up in anger. You fully turn your head to him when he takes a bold step towards the Commander.

"That's not true, sir!" he barks.

Iverson looks at him and glares. "What was that, young man?" he growls.

Lance quickly slaps a hand over Pidge's mouth and pulls him back in line. "Sorry, sir! He must've hit his head when he fell!" he says, smiling sheepishly in a sad attempt to cover up his fear. His hand gets tighter over Pidge's mouth, almost as if he's asking the ginger what the hell is wrong with him.

With Lance speaking up, Iverson's attention is now pinpointed on him. He takes a few steps closer to Lance, his intimidating figure making your brother cower back a bit.

"I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here," he growls, his tone of voice menacing and powerful, "is because the best pilot in your class had a disciplinary issue and flunked out."

Lance drops his gaze down to the floor, a look of dejection taking over his face.

"Don't follow in his footsteps," Iverson warns. He stares Lance down a bit before abruptly turning to you. "And you!" he barks.

Your entire body freezes up and your eyes wearily follow him as he stops in front of you now. Your heart sinks down to your gut.

"I expected better of you."

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

You returned to your dorm at the end of the day with a cloud over your head.

You grumble about the day's events as you aggressively tug your shirt over your head. You really wish you could pinpoint the source of your frustration. Are you mad at my brother? Your team? Or yourself?

You toss your clothes on the floor and pull out some track shorts and a hoodie from your dresser. Getting dressed in your pajamas for the rest of the night, you try to sort out your emotions.

"Stop mumbling to yourself," your roommate says from her bed.

You turn to her. "Ah, sorry," you say. "I didn't realise I was talking out loud..."

"If you're that mad at your brother why don't you just punch him?" she asks. You blink, surprised she actually heard you.

"I'm not violent like you," you say with a sigh. "Besides, I don't even know if I'm mad at him specifically."

"Eh, I would punch him either way," your roommate shrugs. "It's a good way to alleviate your stress."

You roll your eyes. "I alleviate my stress by sleeping."

Your roommate laughs. "Ain't that the truth?" she jests. "How many times have you taken a nap between classes this week?"

You stare at her with a blank expression for a moment before picking your clothes up and off of the ground. "I'm not answering that," you say and toss them into the hamper.

You and your roommate pause when there's a knock on the door. You look at her and she looks at you.

She raises her hands up. "And I'm not answering that," she says.

You roll your eyes and grab one of the dirty articles of clothing you tossed into the hamper and throw at her without any remorse. She yelps in fear and disgust as you walk to the door with a smirk on your face.

"Don't throw your nasty underwear at me!" she barks and she pinches the panties between her thumb and index finger, tossing them as far away from her as possible.

You cackle and open the door. Your laughter cuts short when you're suddenly face to face with your brother. Hunk stands behind him.

"What are you doing in the girls' dorm?" you ask, but then take the opportunity you just created for yourself to tease your dear elder brother. You think of it as a bit of revenge for crashing the simulator. "Visiting someone?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Heh, I wish," he sighs. "But no. We're thinking about hitting the town tonight! You know, for some team bonding?"

"Who is it?" your roommate calls to you.

"Lance and Hunk," you say over your shoulder at her.

"Punch him!" she shouts back.

"No!" you hiss and turn back to your brother.

"I don't like your roommate," Lance comments under his breath.

"Neither do I," you joke.

"I heard that!" your roommate barks.

"No you didn't!" you ready. But getting the feeling that she's going to keep interrupting, you push Lance out of your way and step into the hall with him and Hunk. You then close the door and give the boys your full attention.

"So, you're gonna come with us?" Lance asks.

"I don't know," you say with uncertainty in your tone. You cross your arms. "It's past curfew and I don't really think you have off-campus privileges..."

"That doesn't matter," Lance waves his hand dismissively. "Iverson wants us to bond as a team, so why don't we listen to him for once?"

"I'm not feeling that adventurous," you say.

"What? Why not? It'll be fun!" Lance cajoles.

"Lance, your idea of fun always ends up with you and me in the principal's office," Hunk reminds. "Don't drag your little sibling into it."

"Hunk has a point," you say. "I don't want to get in trouble again. I had my filling for today."

"Since when were you a goodie-two-shoes?" Lance asks in a somewhat offended tone.

"Since I got a scholarship here?" you quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sibling?" Lance says as he gives you a look of utter betrayal, as if you were some alien.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not too keen on losing something like that because I went along with your dumb shenanigans," you sigh.

"Please, the max punishment for something like this is just a weekend detention with old man Brechin," Lance says and a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "That is, if you get caught."

You bite your lip, looking away in thought. Team bonding sounds very appealing after what happened today, but are you willing to risk your scholarship? You don't know if you can lose it because of a simple detention. The Galaxy Garrison is a government program, which means they are pretty strict.

"Do you really need to think about it?" Lance asks with raised eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're scared!"

His words irk you immensely.

You snap your gaze up to him. Is he serious? You aren't scared. Why would you be scared of sneaking out?

You silently walk back into your dorm and quickly throw a bra on, some socks, and your shoes.

"Where are you going?" your roommate asks as she watches you scramble about the room with a sense of purpose all of a sudden.

"Team bonding," you say, now tying the laces of your shoes.

"This late? Are you sure?" she asks.

"All common sense in me left the moment Lance basically called me a scaredy-cat," you say bluntly.

"Well, have fun," your roommate says.

You give her a small salute as you walk out of the dorm. "I'll be back by morning."

"Alright, see ya!"

You close the door and turn to Lance and Hunk expectantly. "Well?"

Lance gives you a cocky grin, proud of his persuasion skills. You suddenly consider your roommate's suggestion for a second.

"We need to go grab Pidge," Lance says. "It won't be team bonding if someone's missing. You gotta have everybody."

You shrug, doubting Pidge will join.

Lance takes the liberty of leading the way to the boys' dorm, you and Hunk following closely behind. You expertly dodge the officers patrolling the halls making sure students are in their dorms like ninjas on a stealth mission.

As Lance rounds a corner, he suddenly stops and back peddles quickly. He peeks around the corner and watches whatever is on the other side. Curious, you and Hunk sneak up close to Lance and peek as well.

Pidge steps out of his room, a backpack swung over his shoulders. He checks his surroundings before closing the door and running off.

You, Lance, and Hunk share a look. You all then telepathically agree to follow the small boy. Once again, Lance takes the lead.

[ey8508]

Rumors and Secrets: Victor | 李泽言

Note:

R&S for this card (CG above)

Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 18-21 (read at your own risk)

Contains 5 chapters

Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)

Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”

Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)

Chapter 1 Page 1 It's no exaggeration to say that the name "Li Zeyan" has run through my entire high school era.  This "evil fate" probably starts with a 31-point Chinese test paper. I'm Gao Qishan, only 17 years old at that time, but there are so many things that usually interest me. Games, animations, and football are nothing compared than reading a book in a room. But hey, it's a pity that my dad doesn't think so. "I only scored 31 points in the Chinese test, and I'm still here with a hippie smile!" In the study, the old man blew his beard, looking disappointed, "How can my son be so useless!" Page 2 "Your son is very capable. I was the MVP of the basketball game last night!" "Your PPP is useless! You are in the second year of high school, not the second grade of elementary school! You have a 31-point score and you have a face to play basketball? You don't have any shame or a competitive spirit. Do you not want to go to college anymore?!"  . I was about to reply impatiently, the old man took out a magazine from somewhere, poked his hand at the cover and yelled at me: "Look at the person. He founded the company at the age of 20. In just two years, he has been on the "Business Rising Stars" cover interview! Look at yourself again, someone who is almost 17 years old and does not have the realization of it, do you want to be in the worst generation in the future, ah?!" Page 3 I'm not happy to hear this: "What's so great about starting a company? Your son, I will start a company in minutes!” "I'm almost out of school, and I started my own company? Oh, I'm going to be better!" The old man raised his head, and the thick magazine almost hit my handsome face.  "Learn from others, and don't give me daydreaming here!" Page 4 I grabbed this "Business Rising Stars" with enthusiasm. A decent young man in a suit was looking ahead through the photo. On the cover was a striking headline: "Li Zeyan, an astounding leader in Lianyu City.” "This title is exaggerated!" Even if I was taught by Lao Gao, I was inexplicably better compared with this Li Zeyan, and I just threw the magazine under the sofa. Who wants to learn from him? Just looking at it is a tarnish to my ability! Page 5 But somehow, at night I tossed and turned and I couldn't fall asleep! The more I closed my eyes, the more uncomfortable I was, what did Li Zeyan do. When I turned over for the 100th time, I suddenly sat up. It was a task by old Gao to read the magazine anyway, so I decided to retrieve the magazine and just take a look. After sneaking into the study room, it took me a long time to find the magazine in the innermost part of the sofa. Page 6 "... Although Li Zeyan is only 22 years old, he is already the president of Huarui, an emerging medium-sized company in Lianyu City.  Starting from scratch, he started from a small office to now has hundreds of people. Every step he walks is particularly solid and decisive. Li Zeyan’s way of business is beyond ordinary. He is like a lion, born with a King's aura." All these compliments just for this, isn't it just descriptions of someone starting their own company? I just haven't paid much attention to reading.  Just relying on my ingenuity, and getting a high score on the tests, it is absolutely nothing when it comes to starting a company. Hmph, just you wait. Chapter 2 Page 1 The university in City A is not only one of the top five in the province, but also the top five in the country. It is a university that I, Gao Qishan was admitted to dignifiedly! How about that, I said I'm absolutely fine. In a blink of an eye, the freshman year has passed. In the past two years, I have also paid a little attention to Huarui. The development has been okay, it has not closed down, and the scale has doubled.  It's just normal development. Is it worth the old Gao's praise from time to time?  Every time he flipped through a financial magazine and sighed, "You are so young, so good", it sounds a bit too much. Page 2 As the saying goes, "Seeing is believing", I think this sentence is right.  Taking advantage of the summer vacation, I decided to apply for Huarui's summer internship to see in person how the company is, just not to waste my talents and financial knowledge. Soon I entered the building, but how can the interviewer in the middle feel a bit familiar, the more I look at it, the more I recognize... Wait, isn't it exactly Li Zeyan?! What's happening, is Huarui going bankrupt? Why is the president personally do the interviewing for the summer interns? Page 3 "Manager Chen has something to do, I happen to be free." Probably my shock expression was too obvious. Li Zeyan flipped through the information at hand and looked up at me blankly.  "Gao Qishan? First, briefly introduce yourself." I don't know what's going on. I was so startled by Li Zeyan that I couldn't help but straighten up.  After swallowing my throat, I mobilized all my attention, took a deep breath and said, "Hello, my name is Gao Qishan, and I am a freshman in the Department of Economics and Management of the University of City A..." Page 4 After introducing himself, Li Zeyan asked a few more related professional questions. This kind of small question is nothing to me. It seems that Huarui’s interview is nothing more than that. He occasionally knocked his fingers on the table subconsciously, and asked with a deep gaze: "Why do you want to come to Huarui for an internship?" The continuous response made me more and more relaxed. I changed my sitting position and quickly thought about how to deal with this new question. Judging from previous information, Li Zeyan is a person who likes to win at everything. He should appreciate the kind of answers that seem extraordinarily confident, right? Page 5 After carefully thinking about this, I straightened my back and raised my chin and said: Although Huarui is quite a new company, it has grown at an amazing speed, and the achievements it has made so far are obvious to all in the industry.  And although I am a freshman student, I think I have a very strong learning ability. In this regard, I have a lot of similarities with Huarui. Therefore, I think Huarui is very suitable for me and will definitely make me grow faster. Of course, I can definitely give back the same freshness and vitality for Huarui. With a confident smile, I finished my speech and waited quietly for Li Zeyan's nod. But to my surprise, a few seconds later I was greeted by a frown from Li Zeyan. Page 6 "It seems that you have confidence in yourself. To be a man and to do things really requires self-confidence, but everything must be controlled." Li Zeyan stared at me and said in a hurry, "Only by maintaining reflection and introspection can we truly make progress." I understood his words, and my face flushed. A few days later, I really received a notice from HR (Human Resources) and I didn't get hired. Page 7 Although I had a foreseeable result from Li Zeyan's remarks, when I really received a reply and recalled the interview scene, I was still very angry. After my sophomore year, I went back to the final exams and tried to fight for the first place. I'll make sure that my ambitions are not just mere words. I have written down the "new hatred and old hatred" on my notes. I will definitely use the shortest time to create my own territory, leaving Huarui far behind! Chapter 3 Page 1 Today is the first day of my "Yuanshan Group" moving to a new building.  Morning light came in from the spacious floor-to-ceiling windows, and I stood by the desk, proudly holding on to the brand-new office chair. In the next semester of the junior year, I used the dividends I participated in the project as the start-up capital, and I didn't need a penny higher than the old one, so my "distant mountain" just rose from the ground.  Isn’t it just 20-year-old to start a company from scratch? What's the difficulty?  When I founded Yuanshan, I was exactly 21, and the rounding is almost the same as Li Zeyan.  Because of this, my old man, Lao Gao stopped training me long ago, and I guess he must have praised me secretly. Page 2 In just a few years, Yuanshan has grown from a small company of eight people to a scale that now occupies a seven-story high-end office building, and the suffix has also changed from "company" to the word "group".  To be honest, my founder is very satisfied with Yuanshan's growth.  Although there is still a certain distance from Huarui, after all, they are also developing along the way, but it doesn't matter, I am still young, and sooner or later I can catch up. It didn't take long before the opportunity to "catch up" came. Page 3 I was originally interested in the land to the north of Lianyu City. When I heard that Huarui was also planning to bid on that land, I became more interested.  The Lianyu Municipal Government intends to develop the somewhat hindered northern side. At present, construction has begun to build a crossing bridge and a shopping mall, and this piece of land is nearby. "It is more than enough to build a six-star resort with 18,000 square meters and the supporting facilities can be added. Maybe Huarui made the same idea." I have paid attention to the recent developments of Huarui and have invested in four resort hotels one after another. The senior management of the company also agreed that the land is worthwhile, and if it can be won within the highest valuation of 89 million yuan, it should make a profit without losing it. Page 4 A month later, I came to the auction site with confidence.  Sitting in front of me at ten o'clock is Li Zeyan, the president of Huarui in a suit and leather shoes. After a few years of absence, I can finally compete with him. On the stage, the auctioneer gave an impassioned introduction to the land, and then said in a melodious tone: "The starting price is 35 million, and the auction will begin now!" As soon as the voice fell, several companies immediately raised their signs. But my opponent is Huarui. It is still early, so I have to wait for Huarui to make a move. Page 5 When the bidding became increasingly fierce, Li Zeyan finally raised his placard for the first time: "60 million." The opponent finally appeared, and I immediately raised the number plate: "61 million." As if he was just encountering an ordinary bidder, Li Zeyan never answered with words, but raised his placard again: "70 million." I continued to chase: "71 million!" Side to the front, Li Zeyan seemed to raise his eyebrows slightly. After a few seconds, he raised the number plate again, and said: "80 million." Page 6 "81 million!" As if finally realizing my bite, Li Zeyan glanced at me slightly sideways, then he raised the number plate, the noise was low and clear: "90 million." This figure has already exceeded the company's highest valuation, and the assistant quietly tugged on my sleeve, beckoning me to forget it. But if I really give up on this, I still feel no sigh of relief in my heart. The auctioneer has already shouted in front: "90 million twice." Page 7 "100 million!" My voice came out, at the last moment. Of course, Li Zeyan finally gave me a straight look. I watched his hand nervously, and saw that the number plate was never raised again, and the auctioneer had already shouted excitedly: "One hundred million! Yuanshan Group has come out of one hundred million! One hundred million once! Three hundred million!, make a deal!" Page 8 Finally got it!  Such a valuable piece of land I believe it will be a great help to Yuanshan, and it’s just around the corner to get rid of Huarui. I didn't even consider the cost of 100 million yuan. I just felt that my body was comfortable and exuberant, and the bright prospects were beckoning me. When Li Zeyan passed by me, my triumphant pride couldn't stop. "Thanks to Mr. Li for the bidding this time." Page 9 Li Zeyan put his suit jacket on one hand, and passed by me. I thought he would argue with me back, but Li Zeyan just raised his eyebrows uninterested, and then strode away without looking back. Okay, as the winner of the auction, I allow the loser to occasionally gaffe. Just when I was gearing up to do a big job, the Finance Department urgently sent a bad report. Due to my "passionate bidding", Yuanshan's capital chain suddenly had a problem. Chapter 4 Page 1 I urgently convened a high-level meeting, and after several discussions, the best solution at present turned out to be to invest in Huarui! Personally speaking, I have a hundred reluctances in my heart.  Not long before the auction, I took the initiative to bow to Hua Rui. Didn't that slap me in the face severely. However, the cruel reality lies in front of us. Yuanshan is not only my own person, but also the collective effort of hundreds of employees.  To let Yuanshan survive this crisis steadily, I can only and must "take the initiative to surrender" to Huarui. Forget it, "vote" just "vote"!  Although it was a mistake in my decision-making this time, Yuanshan's development prospects are so good that Li Zeyan should never not invest as long as his eyes are correct. Page 2 However, the negotiation process is still more difficult than I expected. It is not that Huarui has no intention to invest, but almost all the conditions listed are on the lowest line of the distant mountains. "If I remember correctly, the creditworthiness of Huarui's previous investment in the gaze lock company is not very high." I fought hard against the low pressure, and Yuanshan's creditworthiness has always been in the top four in the industry. "...with Yuanshan's creditworthiness Huarui's right to speak will definitely be improved. I think Mr. Li can think about it again." Page 3 "Do you think you are still eligible to negotiate terms with me?" Li Zeyan straightened his mouth, exuding deterrence, "...Huarui Investment in Yuanshan is not for charity, and has no obligation to pay for your suicidal behavior." He raised his hand and glanced at his watch, with a hint of impatience on his face: "Think carefully about it yourself." The long negotiation was finally over. Although Yuanshan and Huarui finally reached a cooperation intention, the whole process failed me. I thought I was about to be on the same line of competition with Li Zeyan, but I was beaten back to the former "interviewer" again. Page 4 By the area downstairs in Huarui, I was smoking a stuffy cigarette, and suddenly there was a faint sound of footsteps behind me. It turned out to be Li Zeyan. Although he was still expressionless, the murderous aura and arrogance from the negotiations seemed to have diminished. Li Zeyan steadily walked to my side: "Gao Qishan, I remember you once came to interview for a summer internship." I didn't expect Li Zeyan to take the initiative to speak. I was surprised. He said: "Several years have passed, and it seems that self-confidence is increasing." If it wasn't for my lose, I stood up slightly: “Although I made a mistake this time, as far as the strength of Yuanshan is concerned, I have the capital to be confident." Page 5 "Yuanshan's strength is indeed pretty good, but don't rush to eat the cakes that you can't eat for the time being. Being high is far from a long-term plan for enterprise development." Li Zeyan said lightly, and took out a card from his pocket and handed it to me, "There will be a practical business forum in Lianyu City next week. You can come and listen when you have time." A practical business forum? What do you mean, is he mocking me for being too pragmatic? The inexplicable enthusiasm and self-esteem suddenly appeared, and I blurted out: "Mr. Li, even if Yuanshan is really not as good as Huarui now, there is no need to humiliate people like this, right?" Page 6 Li Zeyan frowned: "What are you talking about?" He paused, his eyes sinking, "I thought you would be an opponent you could look forward to, but I didn't expect the vision to be just like that." Without additional explanation, Li Zeyan turned and walked away after speaking. I was stunned, looking at Li Zeyan's steadily leaving behind, I couldn't help but relive the conversation just now in my mind. Could it be that Li Zeyan meant that because he regarded me as a potential opponent and hoped that this opponent could become stronger and more competitive, did he propose to let me participate in the business forum? Page 7 That's right, it seems that only such an explanation can make sense! Thinking of this, I couldn't help blowing a whistle. After all, it was an "imaginary enemy" and pursuit of goals since the age of 17, which can be affirmed and recognized by Li Zeyan. It is simply an easter egg that comes with the negotiation, and it is worthy of the old man to praise me ten times. I was being silly and happy. Suddenly my fingers hurt, I have forgotten about my cigarette that was about to burn my fingers! Chapter 5 Page 1 With Huarui's capital injection, Yuanshan passed the crisis steadily. After more than half a year, the foundation of the resort has gradually taken shape. Just when everything seemed to be going in a good direction, early this morning, the news of "the crash of the president of Huarui" directly bombed all major platforms.  Reminiscent of the so-called "homicide list" that was suddenly leaked on the internet a few days ago, I inexplicably feel that these two things may have some connection. Who on earth wants Huarui to sink in the water? Wait a minute, which company announced the list. Could it be that their person in charge is secretly playing tricks? Page 2 Before I could find anything out of my investigation, within a few days, the news of "Which company claims that Huarui has maliciously acquired a large number of pharmaceutical companies" once again detonated all platforms! "Deliberately monopolizing the pharmaceutical market will inevitably cause the price of medicines to rise, which is obvious." "Just for profit, this behavior is very bad!" "Even Huarui's own workers and can't stand it, which shows how terrible Li Zeyan's actions are!" Page 3 Opinions on the Internet are divergent, and public grievances are boiling, and they all accuse Huarui. But I don’t believe it. Although I have only met Li Zeyan several times in person, for so many years, because I have always regarded him as an opponent and target, I have studied Huarui and Li Zeyan’s behavior more than anyone else. The nonsense on the Internet, I don't believe a word! I browsed the web quickly, staring at the almost identical title and searched viciously. Page 4 "Huarui’s reputation plummeted, Li Zeyan fell into a situation where everyone was clamoring and angry, and the heads of the company was clearly cut off from him." In the video, the host's voice kept ringing into my ears. All the signs made me firmer in my previous thoughts: It must be looking at which company is crossing the river to demolish the bridge! I immediately called the assistant to the inside line: "How much do you hire me for a large number of naval forces? How many can you hire? How many! That's right, I have to spare no effort to clarify for Huarui, and by the way, I will focus on the company. Going right now!" I know that this "bad strategy" and only a small help but I haven't beaten Li Zeyan righteously, how could Huarui have an accident in such a situation! What I want is not the taste of winning without a fight. Page 5 Probably because of anger, I couldn't help but send a message to Li Zeyan: The outside world said that Huarui's energy is exhausted. You will not be reduced to the point where you still need to borrow money from me, right?" This message was sent, and I did not expect Li Zeyan to reply to me. However, when it was almost midnight, I suddenly received an email from Huarui. ‘Huarui has always been a responsible company, and will do what it says without fear of any storms. Now everything is running normally, you don't need to worry about it.’ Signer: Li Zeyan. Page 6 Looking at this email, I couldn't help but smile in the middle of the night. Also, Huarui has always been fighting steadily, and Li Zeyan has never fought unprepared battles. Maybe he is playing a big move. Otherwise, how can I say that he is my respectable and close opponent! As for my secret match with Li Zeyan. Give me another three or four years to see who wins and who loses.