#maths test next week i will almost definitely end up failing

[good--merits-accumulated]

[hwangsbbg]

Just a kiss - Yangyang

Synopsis : Yangyang and reader are best friends and they end up going further than just kissing in an attempt to check their kissing skills

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"I'm not watching that movie another time" Yangyang complained as the two of you made your way to your house. It was a tradition for him to sleep over every Friday night and for you guys to do a movie marathon.

"But its a classic" You whined as you saw you were a couple steps away from reaching the front door.

"A classic we've watched literally a hundred times. Can't we watch one of my movies instead" He replied watching you open your front door.

"We can watch one of your movies, and one of mine. And if we can't get along on the last movie we can just play video games" You walked in your house, immediately making your way to your room.

"Are your parents not home?" He asked considering we'd always be greeted by them as soon as we entered the house.

"My dad travelled for work yesterday and my mom is visiting her parents. I told you this like ten minutes ago" You rolled your eyes.

"I forgot to listen" He grinned at you, following you into your room where both of you set your bags on the side of your room.

"Did you finish your homework for the weekend or are you gonna end up copying on me" He practically jumped next to you on the bed as he watched you remove your shoes, doing the same.

"I finished it during my free period this time" you replied, proudly, as you removed your cardigan, throwing it to the other side of the room.

"Wow! For once! You deserve an applause" He dramatically clapped for you. You rolled your eyes playfully.

"I'm gonna take a shower, you can go in after if you'd like" You walked towards the door that connected your room to your bathroom.

"Or I could always join you" He laughed making you laugh as well. You shook your head at him playfully before finally going in.

You finished rather quickly and when you were out you realized Yangyang was missing. You called his name while putting on a new pair of underwear and an oversized shirt he had actually given you.

"I'm coming! I'm grabbing some snacks" He replied from the kitchen as you set up the movie you wanted to watch on Netflix.

Yangyang walked in with a tray full of snack and grinned as soon as he saw the shirt you were wearing.

"You're wearing the shirt you stole from me" "You gave it to me" "Yeah after you wouldn't stop stealing it" He laughed, setting the tray on the table next to your bed and jumping in the bed next to you.

"Aren't you gonna take a shower" you questioned.

"Oh yeah" He remembered. You laughed as he stood up making his way to the bathroom. A few seconds later he walked out, shirtless.

"Can I use your shampoo" You definitely heard him, but your eyes were more focused on his bare upper body that was displayed before you and you couldn't think of anything else.

"Wh-What" "can I use the shampoo" he repeated his question, smirking at you.

"Y-Yeah of course" You finally managed to look up at him. He laughed at your reaction before walking back into the bathroom.

You laid down on the bed, quite embarrassed, making yourself comfortable as you scrolled through Instagram, waiting for him to come out and start the movie.

You were so focused on your phone however, you completely forgot about Yangyang who walked out of the bathroom and walked in on you laying down on your phone with half of your ass exposed by your shirt that had been lifted up.

He coughed a little trying to get your attention, and it worked, however you had no idea about your situation and you simply looked at him smiling.

The thoughts that crossed his head at that moment were far from innocent, certainly not the kind of thoughts you would have about your best friend.

When you turned your head, you noticed he was only wearing a new pair of pants but his abs were once again on full display and it was turning you on in ways you couldn't imagine.

You hadn't had sex ever since you broke up with your boyfriend last year and to say you were beyond sexually frustrated is an understatement. To add on to that you have an incredibly good looking man standing shitless in front of you. What would you expect.

Your eyes trailed up from his abs to his eyes to see he was staring at your ass and you quickly sat up, laughing nervously as he copied your actions, laughing as well.

"where's your shirt" You asked him as he took a seat next to you on the bed.

"I tried to put the AC on when you were showering and it isn't working, it's way too hot inside for the shirt I brought" He explained making you nod in understanding.

"I bet Talia would love to see you like this" You Spoke after a while, remembering the quirky girl who dared come up to you and tell you to back off of Yangyang.

"What do you mean" He looked genuinely confused which made the situation quite comic for you.

"You know Talia right?" "Which one" "The skinny brunette one with the green eyes" You explained and he instantly understood who he was.

"High heels Talia? The one who tried failing maths so I could tutor her" "Yeah! That one! She told me to back off her man because she thought we were dating"

"What did you say" He was almost dead laughing. "I told her I've done some things with her 'man' she couldn't even think of" You laughed seeing him become all read and remembering how she stormed off after hearing that.

"Why would you say it like that" He laughed even harder. "Because I was tired of her always thinking I'm 'stealing you away from her' and I mean we have done some pretty crazy things.. just not what she's probably thinking" you explained.

Yangyang shook his head at you playfully making you give him a suspicious look. You wouldn't dare believe it but you had to ask him.

"Why.. are you like into her" you didn't mean to make it sound so mean but it just came out that way.

"Why are you jealous" he teased you, laughing at your reaction. You frowned in response.

"Come on! You're the only girl in my life! You know that" He tackled you into a bear hug, holding you tightly before letting go. During those few seconds you managed to catch a strong whiff of your shampoo and body wash and you realized how he was shirtless and had to force your mind away from inappropriate thoughts.

"Ok but I also have a confession" He spoke up after a couple of seconds of silence. "What did you do" knowing Yangyang, he was capable of the craziest of things and him saying that scared you.

"I kinda did the same thing you did with him" Yangyang admitted, shocking you.

"What!? When? How? Where? Why?" you had so many questions. He gave a nervous laugh before explaining.

"So I was walking to my locker and he came over to me and asked if I had seen you. I told him yeah but I wasn't going to tell him where you were. Then he told me he just wants to explain himself"

You shook your head. He had cheated on you. What was there to explain. You stayed quiet however and let Yangyang continue his story.

"I told him there was nothing to explain and he said I had no business in this and asked me why I was even putting myself in you guys' business. So I told him I have my reasons. And he asked me if we were dating or fucking and that it had to be one of those" he paused.

"What did you say" you asked. You were aching to know the rest.

"I told him why not both and he got super pissed and left" Yangyang admitted making you burst out in laughter.

"You told him we were sleeping together and dating" You couldn't believe what you had just heard.

"Yeah. I mean I thought he would have realized I was lying considering you could sense my sexual frustration from miles away"

"Not at all Yangyang, if anything you give off playboy vibes" you replied making him blush a slight red color.

"No but seriously I mean with that smile and those abs, you have like half of the girls at school chasing after you" You didn't even realize your hand was on his thigh until you met his eyes and saw him looking at it.

"Sorry" You bashfully apologized. "It's okay" He breathed out.

"Anyways, why would you give off sexually frustrated vibes. Don't you like.. touch yourself"

Yes, it was quite an awkward conversation but you guys didn't mind talking about things like this and that was a great thing in your friendship.

"I mean yeah, but it's not the same thing as having sex" he replied as if it were something you should have known.

"But didn't you hook up with Violet at the party last week" "She tried to hook up with me but I didn't want to"

You were quite confused considering Violet was considered one of the hottest girls at school and he was sexually frustrated.

"So I haven't had sex in like five months" "I haven't had sex in like a year! I don't know why you're complaining" you rolled your eyes at him.

"That's cause you didn't want to. Every guy at school tried hooking up with you as well. Your ex boyfriend spread the rumor that you were a great kisser but even better in bed"

"Yeah I heard the rumor. It's not false so I didn't bother saying anything" you shrugged.

"So you're saying you're a great kisser" "Well I'm not denying it" "I bet your not as great of a kisser as I am" Yangyang teased you making you laugh.

"I could show you" You spoke jokingly but noticed the serious look on his face.

"I was joking" You made it clear before you saw him smirk and speak up.

"I bet you I'm a better kisser than you" he challenged you. Only he knew his true intentions and how competitive you could be.

"Bet on what Yangyang. Twenty bucks" You sparked up at he thought of the new challenge.

"Ok but if I win you have to grant my three wishes" he replied. You nodded, sure you weren't going to lose.

"But how do we test this, do I have to kiss one of the girls you kissed because they all suck to be honest" you spoke making him chuckle before replying.

"I mean it's just kissing we could just do it together and see for ourselves". You raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged.

You obviously wanted to kiss him, all betting aside, so it didn't take much for you to agree. As soon as you replied with a 'yes', he moved his hand to rest on the bed, at your side and leaned in to kiss you.

It was a really soft kiss and it made your head dizzy. You hadn't been kissed like this in so long. Your lips moved together softly before he pulled away.

"I don't think we can determine who's the better kisser from just that" you used that as an excuse to continue doing what you were doing previously.

Yangyang smirked, kissing you once again, this time more passionately. You changed position, both kneeling on the bed without breaking the kiss.You could feel his hands, one of the back of your neck and the other around your waist.

He licked the bottom of your lip, asking for entrance. You teased him, denying it to him, wondering what he would do next.

He completely surprised you when he let his hand trail from your waist to one of your ass cheeks and squeezed it making you yelp and allowing him to enter his tongue.

He grinned into the kiss as your two tongues danced together, Yangyang taking the lead and dominating over you. You didn't mind his dominance though, you found it hot. Hot to the point where you could feel your underwear slowly getting soaked.

You let your hands rest on his abs as the kiss continued on for a while longer before you pulled away.

"Wow, the rumors are soo true" He let out, quite out of breath making you giggle.

"I didn't even show you half of what I know" You smirked, proudly, as you saw him bite his lip. He definitely wanted you as much as you wanted him.

"Can you show me more in that case" He asked. You smirked.

"Only if you admit I won the bet" "Who the fuck cares about the bet at this point" He replied. You couldn't agree more. Things were definitely not going to be the same after tonight.

You pushed him back so he was sitting on the bed before climbing up onto him, straddling him. Without wasting any time, you reattached your lips to his, instantly inserting your tongue in his mouth and letting it be guided by his tongue.

After a few seconds you pulled away, stared at him and reattached your lips to him, only this time to his neck. He let out a clearly involuntary moan as you sucked all over his neck and softly grinded on him.

You could clearly feel his member growing in his pants, right under you ass. You felt bad for the poor thing that wanted to break free from the clothes he was locked in. He grabbed your ass with both hands and began rubbing on it making you curse in pleasure.

You looked up to see Yangyang biting in his lip hard as you continued sucking on his neck. You moved your ass a little to grind into him again, making the both of you moan out of pleasure.

You made your way back to his mouth, reattaching your lips as you felt his hands trail under your shirt. You felt him smirk into the kiss as he discovered you weren't wearing a bra.

"Were you expecting this" He pulled away, biting his lip. "No, I just don't see the point in wearing a bra in my own house. Don't feel too special" You giggled, reconnecting your lips.

He let his hands play with your breasts under your shirts, squeezing on them before taking both nipples and squeezing those too.

You let out a rather loud moan, not really caring considering nobody else was home at this time.

He pulled away, tugging at your shirt and within a few seconds it was on the other side of the room. You watched him lick his lips before flipping you over so that you were laying in the bed with him on top of you.

"Fuck.. you're fucking hot" he praised you, attaching his lips to your neck this time as he grinded his erected member right on your core that was only covered by your panties.

"Fuckkk" you both moaned as he continued kissing all over your neck and collarbone before he began moving down, grabbing one of your nipples with his hand and taking the other in his mouth.

He sucked and licked around you, enjoying the sounds of your moans before moving to the next one. He reveled in the fact that he was the one making you feel this way as he continued kissing your lower stomach all the way to your panties.

"You might be the better kisser but you've never seen what I can do with my mouth" He smirked as he pulled away.

You looked at him in shock. Was he seriously talking about what you were thinking.

"Please show me" You weren't going to bother lying, you were desperate to see what he could do with his mouth beside speak a ton of language and say the weirdest shit.

"You don't even have to ask" he kissed between your thighs making you shiver in excitement as he neared closer and closer to you.

He reached towards the waistbands of your panties, using only a few fingers to pull them off and toss them next to him.

"Holy fuck" He groaned, wasting no in attaching his mouth to your core. He first kissed it, sending an intense feeling all through your body before he licked between your folds.

"Oh fuckkk Yangyang" you moaned as he continued licking up and down before he thrust his tongue in your hole making your knees buckle in pleasure.

He reached up and began rubbing on your clit as he continued thrusting in and out with his tongue. Your loud moans only further encouraging him.

You felt heat pool up in your stomach as he used his other hand to play with one of your nipples.

"Ah.. fuck.. I think I'm gonna come" you let out in short breaths and he sped up his actions. He removed his hand that was rubbing on your clit but it didn't matter as he went deeper with his tongue making his nose rub against your clit.

You reached your first orgasm and it was nothing less than pure bliss and your entire body shook.

You watched him smirk in satisfaction, admiring your naked body and replaying the orgasm he caused in his head.

"Can you take anymore babe" You don't know where the nickname came from nor did you care. It sounded so fucking hot and you felt so desperate for him. And you knew how he felt too.

He stood up, giving you he perfect few of his member that was clearly very hard inside his sweatpants.

You licked your lips, making your way over to him and helping him remove his sweatpants along with his boxers, finally freeing his hard on from the prison it was stuck in.

You stared at his impressive size before slowly grabbing hold of it. He let out a small groan at the feeling as you began to pump on it.

"I would return the favor but I really want you inside of me right now" You loved hearing his moans but you couldn't wait any longer.

"Fuck- if you keep saying things like that I won't be able to control myself" "I don't want you to" you replied making him chuckle in response.

"Shit- I don't have a condom" he groaned in frustration before you spoke up, announcing you had one.

"For surprises like this" you spoke once again after seeing the eyebrow raise he gave you. He opened your bedside drawer and was surprised to see all the different types of condoms you had stored in there.

"You just keep them in here knowing your parents could see them" he looked at you in confusion.

"My dad never comes into my room and my mom gave me these" You watched as he scanned over the different sizes before picking up a large one. Seeing his size, it didn't surprise you.

He ripped it open using his teeth and easily rolled it on before positioning himself at your entrance. You moaned, feeling only the tip enter you as your whole body was once again overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Fuck babygirl" he unconsciously let the pet name slip as he grabbed on to your waist, pushing further inside of you until he was fully in.

"Fuck Yangyang" you moaned loudly as he began moving slowly inside of you before he started picking up his pace.

"F-faster.. please" you managed to let out as he went even faster than before and your moans became more high pitched and frequent. You were already nearing your orgasm.

Your hands went to his back, before the rested in his shoulders and he hit your gspot with each and every thrust.

"Ugh.. I'm close babygirl" you could feel him twitching inside of you as your walls clenched around him and, like he had announced, he came.

He continued thrusting though until the pool of heat in your stomach spread to your entire body as you also released for the second time.

He rolled over, laying on the other side of the bed as he tried regaining his breath while you did the same.

"I can't believe that just happened" You would have never guessed your weekly sleepover would turn into probably the best sex you'd ever experienced.

"I'm so happy it did" he replied, finally free of the sexual frustration that was bothering him.

"I mean it was only a matter a time considering the way you stared at my abs earlier" He teased you making you laugh.

"It wasn't as bad as how you were staring at my ass" you replied, returning the favor.

"You got me on that one. Remember the favor you owe me" he reminded you of the amazing job he had done to you with his mouth.

"How can I forget. Remember the three wishes you have to grant me" you also reminded him of the bet he lost.

"I just made all your wishes come true but if you need me to show you again I will" He replied cheekily, making you giggle.

[deniigi]

sorry to bother again but i am a freshman in college and i am v stressed

how did you get through it and how do I make myself not want to drop every single class i’m in every semester

how does one take more than 5 classes at a time

i am in midterm hell and i am Scared™️

oh you mean, ‘Matt, please do your actual literal job on main?’ Because this is sort of my actual literal job, friend. So don’t worry. I’ve got you.

So first thing’s first, when planning future semesters:

I would recommend against taking more than 5 classes at a time. Mathematically, it is not great for you. If you have to take more than 5, plan on doing 1-2 to during summer school. You won’t be behind. You’re fine. I swear.

Example for future class planning: For every class, look at the number of units/credits it is. That is around the number of hours that you’re gonna spend in that class a week. Now multiply that by 2. That’s about the number of hours total you’re gonna spend on that class in a week (both in class and doing homework).

That means that a 3 unit/credit class = 6 hours of work per week.

You have five of those classes. That means that you’re doing around 30hrs of school work a week. If you have six of those classes, you’re practically working a fulltime job with little to no pay and benefits.

End story: Do not take more than 5 classes a semester if you can help it.

If you can, don’t take more than 4 classes in your major per semester, either. You will die. Use electives and general education classes as your fourth or fifth class to lighten your load and give yourself something that you enjoy and know you can pass for sure. That will give you some breathing room and will help you maintain your GPA.

Coping with Overload now:

At this point in the semester, it’s a little late to be dropping classes, so what you’re going to do instead is to schedule the fuck out of your time.

You need to pick and stick to set dates/times for completing coursework and midterm projects for the next week or two. People do this in different ways, but generally speaking, people will assign projects/homework to certain days.

Example: Monday is Chemistry homework night because assignments are due on Wednesday. You only work on Chemistry on Monday. You finish the assignment and turn it in.

Tuesday is English homework day because assignments are papers and take 3 days to complete due to requiring 3 different steps: research, outlining, and writing. You do the whole researching process on Tuesday and do a basic outline. You will fill out the outline a little more on Wednesday and will then write the whole paper on Thursday so that you can turn it in then, before the Friday deadline.

On Wednesday, after you’re satisfied with your English outline, you will set that aside because Wednesdays are Math days. You will do the Math homework and/or study for 2-3 hours until your brain feels like soup. Then you will stop, do something relaxing for 30min, and then decide if you need to do more studying. If you do, repeat the study + self-care process. Go to sleep at a reasonable hour (before 2am if possible)

Do the same thing for your other 2 classes, assigning each a day and a specific task or set of tasks to complete on each day. Don’t give yourself more than 3 tasks per class/study session, because that’s how you get overwhelmed and into an anxiety spiral.

Apply self-care (breaks, snacks, drinks, music) liberally while doing assignments.

Other tips: figure out how you study.

If you study best in a group, grab some folks from your class and form a study group. If you are in STEM especially, it is expected that you will form study groups. This is how studying happens in STEM, medical, and law fields. It is nigh impossible to do all that labor on your own. Yes, I am serious. Make a study group, even if that’s you and 1 other person.

If you can find a study guide, take it to study group or block out an hour or two and do the whole thing. If you don’t have a study guide, make one yourself out of your homework/assignments and test yourself with flashcards or writing out definitions and forcing yourself to explain the different parts of cycles you learned in class.

If you are in a humanities/liberal arts major, you need to figure out if you study best by reviewing your notes, by re-listening to the lectures, by explaining concepts to others, or by writing it all out as if it was an essay.

If you need to write an essay and are stuck with where to start, reach out for help from a tutor if your school has one, or just start by doing 15 minutes of brainstorming to figure out what you feel about the topic and what evidence/ideas would work to answer it. Pick apart the prompt to see what it is truly asking you to do, write out the components of the prompt separately on a separate page and start answering those question as if they were short answers.

Then when you’ve got that, you can start noting bits of evidence to add to support your points and BAM, just like that, you’ve got an outline. Write a thesis statement at the top that addresses the Who, What, Why and How You’re Going to Prove it of your essay and you’re ready to go.

Example thesis statement: “The world represented in Oh God, How do I Study by Matt Deniigiq includes references to time management, course planning, and big-picture thinking to emphasize the broader theme that this one shit semester is not going to destroy student’s lives. This is evident in the droll humor used throughout the piece and the fact that the author keeps halting in paragraphs to answer emails from frazzled students.”

**yes, your thesis can be 2 sentences long. It’s allowed, I promise.

Know that these 5 classes will not end your life.

Honestly, like, speaking as someone who does this for a living, at public schools anything higher than a C is grand. It’s not usually required for you to list your GPA on job apps later on (I’ve never been asked). No one actually cares about your GPA in social situations.

As long as my students have higher than Cs in their classes and they aren’t like, nursing students, I’m cool with their progress, so give yourself a break if you can.

Also know that getting a low grade in 1 class as a freshmen doesn’t actually fuck up your GPA as bad as you think it will. Like, there’s a lot of complicated shit around this that I could go into, but generally speaking, if you fail one class (and I mean FAIL-fail it. Fs and D-s. None of this ‘UwU I got a C so I failed’), then by the time you’re a junior or a senior, if you haven’t failed additional shit, that F/D- is barely going to shift your GPA.

Like, we’re talking .1 shifts around then. Maybe a .3 shift if you’re at the end of your sophomore year. That’s the diff between a 2.5 and a 2.4. Or a 3.3 and a 3.0. You can make that up almost entirely by taking another round of classes and getting As and Bs (again, the mechanics are complicated, so you’re just gonna have to take my word here).

So yeah, shoot for Cs or higher and know that these classes aren’t the end-all be-alls of your lives.

(For context, if I get a student with a 3.0 or higher, I’m fucking ELATED. I’m not even joking. Y’all will be fine.) 

--

Start with these tips and get back to me if you want something more specific. I do this all day, every day.

[swanpyart]

The Short Lived Adventures of RAPH and Casey Jones

This is an old pic that was made for a zine that was never published. So I’ll leave it here. It might not ever be finished, but I think the story is decent enough on its own.

Part 1:

Casey was completely fine by herself.

Sure, her parents never really paid her any mind, but she never needed them to; Casey was a fast learner, and was able to cook, clean, and do pretty much anything the adults could do.

“Look!” Ten-year-old Casey held up an English vocabulary test, with an “100%” written in the corner in cursive. “I passed!”

“Honey,” her mother barely looked at her from her seat at her desk, “One hundred percent is the bare minimum. Anything less means you practically failed.”

There was always an empty space in the bleachers whenever Casey had a hockey game. She would cross her arms as she waited for her parents to pick her up and watched as the people in the audience rushed down and hugged their own children after a game, regardless of whether they won or lost. When her parents finally showed up, she sat in the car quietly as they drove.

Casey spent almost everyday after school at her Granny’s while her parents were at work. The old woman’s house was always warm, mostly because she was always baking; cakes, cookies, and especially her famous brownies - made with a special ingredient.

At twelve years old, Casey had failed a math test for the first time, and burst into tears as she walked through her Granny’s front door. “I’m a failure!”

“Sweetie, everyone fails every now and then,” her Granny wiped a tear from Casey’s cheek and got out an antique mixing bowl, “but I can tell you tried really hard. That’s what matters; that you don’t stop trying your best.”

Afterwards, Casey and her Granny spent the afternoon baking brownies, and that was when she was granted the knowledge of the secret ingredient. She swore her secrecy and never told anyone.

Of course, that was a while ago; her grandmother had passed away sometime afterwards. Her parents reacted with more emotion when Casey had shaved her head than when they attended the funeral.

They also seemed only mildly surprised when, at thirteen years old, Casey was accepted into the Foot Clan and never came back home.

There, Casey promised to herself to show the world just how much of a not-failure she really is! Even if she had to work with the most vile Clan in all the world to achieve it and release the Shredder, the ultimate evil, unto the world. She had worked above and beyond to get where she is, and no one could stop her!

At least, that’s what she thought before the Shredder disappeared, and with him, the Clan’s purpose. And way before those strange, overgrown turtles with no sense of honor or discipline showed up and destroyed their chances, time and time again.

Suddenly, the group she had worked with since she was a preteen, and the closest thing she had to any family, were dragged away by outside obligations she never understood.

Foot Brute and Lieutenant were better parents than her own, but, in the end, they were her bosses and coworkers, and no replacement for a family.

Sure, everyone else may have given up, but she would stay committed to the Clan’s ultimate vision, even if she had to use her dear Granny’s recipe for evil. Grandma CJ’s Brownies were an absolute bust, but she had to try something.

Then, she met this weird, giant, smelly rat with a Japanese accent dressed like a teenager who somehow turned out to be the father of those overgrown turtles.

And, as weird as it was, despite not even being human, he sat next to her and heard what she had to say; and, for those few minutes, it was almost like being next to her Granny again.

“Just because you failed doesn’t make you a failure.”

If she had been smarter, maybe she should have listened a bit harder to what he was saying. If she had been smarter, maybe she would have calmed down and talked to the girl that was beating up the Girl Scouts. There were so many opportunities to just talk.

But then the Shredder was restored, and she really thought it would be the return of her Clan’s glory. Even as she looked at the beaten down forms of her previous bosses. Even as she saw Splinter and his family struggling for their lives. Even as she realized winning would mean the end of everything, including her.

There was no more Clan. She was still alone. She was just alone with a giant evil suit of demon armor.

But, now, she wasn’t.

Even after everything, Splinter offered her an invitation into their...

Family.

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

He had invited her to the lair a few weeks after the fight with Shredder.

“I’m working at the Foot Shack. After my former clan disbanded, they got bought out by another company, Splinter, sir.” She squeezed the mug of tea in her hands.

“Just ‘Splinter’ is fine,” Splinter had opened a bag of chips, and was reclining in his seat. The turtles were out with April at the arcade, taking a break from repairing the lair. “Where are you staying? Do you have a place to live?”

“Yes, I actually have my own apartment.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. Splinter sighed. “Listen, Casey, I know that it’s probably hard having to... uh, sort things out by yourself-”

“What?! No, I’m fine!” She flapped her hand dismissively. “My life is fantastic! It’s definitely not in complete shambles after losing everything I know.” She blinked, realizing that she overshared, and collected herself. “I’m doing great.”

“I-I never said it was in shambles,” He massaged his temple with two clawed fingers, his beady eyes squinting in frustration. “Look, all I am saying is that, if you ever need help, or if you ever get lonely and just want to talk, I am here. And my sons would probably say the same thing. You’re a Hamato now, at least in spirit.”

Casey’s eyes widened, then she looked down. “Thank you, but I’m a very independent person. I’ll be sure to not bug you unless it’s an emergency.”

Splinter nodded, but he’d dealt with enough children to see that Casey was a bit lonely. Still, he said nothing.

For a good while, Casey stuck to what she said; she didn’t really come by the lair unless she really felt the need to or if they needed an extra set of hands with repairing.

But… occasionally, she found herself asking questions. She found out Michelangelo loved cooking, and somehow he got her to agree to bake her Granny’s brownies together. She realized that Leonardo wasn’t just annoying in battle, but all the time, and that she started getting more and more used to it, even occasionally laughing along. She found out while playing video games with them, that Donnatello was just as vicious as her, and that April was equally as competitive.

And Raph, well… they didn’t talk very much. But he seemed nice every time they spoke.

But she kept her distance. After all, it was better if she didn’t get too attached.

She occasionally goes down to the local hockey rink and plays a few rounds with total strangers, and usually gets kicked out due to a combo of delinquent children and complaining parents.

So, here she is, lying on her bed, staring blankly at her phone, with a half eaten sandwich laying on her chest, and old sweatpants that she’s been wearing for a week because her clothes are in the laundromat. For a ninja-slash-ex-cult-member, her life had fallen into a fairly mundane pattern.

Everything could always be worse. So why did she still feel like such a failure?

And for some reason, Casey found herself at the sewer grate. She didn’t even know why she came here, really.

She was about to turn back when a feminine voice spoke from behind her. “Hey, CJ, what’s up?”

She spun around. It was April.

“I was just coming to visit.” Casey tensed up. She hadn’t expected to run into someone else.

“Oh, me too!” She opened up the grate, and started climbing down the ladder. “You coming or what?”

Casey gulped. She couldn’t back out now.

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

Raph paced the lair, quietly groaning as he tapped his chin.

It had been about six months since the fight with Shredder, but another challenge had presented itself; cleaning up the lair after it had been almost completely demolished. Thankfully, with Draxum’s help and Donnie being able to scavenge some old tech that didn’t get destroyed and whip up some devices for reconstruction, the place was finally fixed up after about a month and a half.

Now what? Well, in Leo’s words, it was the time for “rest and relaxation.”

That was pretty easy for the rest of his family to do.

Leo’s entire existence hinged on “rest and relaxation”; Mikey has an assortment of hobbies to keep him busy; Donnie had a tight schedule trying to repair all of his broken inventions; April was trying to adjust to all of the changes at school due to all of New York recovering from the recent Battle Nexus catastrophe; and Splinter, of course, was parked in front of the TV, finally at peace after the Shredder was defeated, and helping himself to milk and cake.

Raph should be relaxing, or at least recovering from all that’s happened to them. The fight with the Shredder was the most stressful and terrifying time of their lives. They lost their Gram-Gram, and even if she was now able to rest with their ancestors and her father, it still stung.

But it’s been such a long time since he’s been in a real fight, and he can tell he’s going a little bit stir-crazy.

Of course, the turtles would spend a lot of time out of the lair; but whenever Raph gets a call on the phone, he finds himself hoping it’s some kind of an emergency, only to turn out to be Todd calling them about the puppy farm, or Leo pestering Senior Hueso with an order for pick-up. It seemed like even their strongest enemies have gone on hiatus as well; there was no word of Big Mama as of late, and every other major bad guy they fought recently seemed to have been exhausted by the Shredder ordeal as well.

Raph’s usual sparring partner, Frankenfoot, is absolutely wonderful, but fighting him wasn’t exactly what Raph had in mind; it was fun, but couldn’t really be compared to the thrill of a real fight.

“Come on, guys,” Raph stood in front of the screen, blocking Leo and Mikey’s view of a Jupiter Jim rerun while Pops was passed out on the couch, snoring, a bag of chips lying open on his stomach. “We’ve been cooped up in the lair for a million years. Who wants to go wreck some bad guys?” He pounded his fist in his opposite hand for emphasis.

“Raph, I can’t see!” Mikey waved his hand in a dismissive way as he said it, and leaned to peek around his older brother and continue watching the screen.

“Ugh, we’ve been over this,” Leo exasperated from his spot on the ground, on his stomach and his head resting on his propped arms. “No crime fighting while we’re on vacation! This is the time to chillax, my guy.”

“How long are we gonna be chillaxing, exactly?” Raph put his hands on his hips, an inquisitive look on his face, even if, deep down, he knew what response he’d get.

“I don’t know, until some other crazy evil mutant guy tries to take over the city? There’s bound to be another one of those eventually.”

“What, so we just wait until some evil mastermind has some evil plan and gets all of New York in their evil clutches? It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Raph tried to summon the energy he usually exudes when he attempts to make a rousing speech, but the rolling eyes and groans from his youngest brothers quickly made its effect futile.

“You know,” Donnie said from the back of the room, the other three having not noticed him walk in, “We did, oh, I don’t know, save all of New York City, take down Big Mama’s Battle Nexus scheme, and, most importantly, defeat our bloodline’s greatest enemy?!”

Raph furrowed his brow, his sharp fang digging into his lower lip.

“We deserve an indefinite break, and I need it, because I actually refuse to do any fighting until I have all my stuff back online. I’d love to fight with only my impeccable mind, but let’s be realistic.” The sandwich in his hand was brought to his face and he swallowed it whole. Donnie knew he had made an excellent point.

“Don’t worry,” Mikey beamed, tucking his arms and legs into his shell, “We’ll get back into the groove of things before you know it!”

“Yeah,” Leo agreed, “Think of it as, like, you know, self-care. Sometimes, you need a break from what you’re used to. Now, can you move out of the way?”

Raph sulked out of his siblings’ view of the screen and sunk into a beanbag, next to the couch their father was snoring in.

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

“Hey, guys!” The turtles turn around to see April and... Foot Recruit walk in.

Raph didn’t really know what to think of Foot Recruit, or Casey, as she preferred to be called. Pops insisted that she wasn’t dangerous anymore, but it was hard for him not to be a little wary; I mean, come on, she used to work with the Shredder!

 She’d been over only a handful of times over the past few months, usually to speak with Splinter and Mikey.

“Casey! April!” Mikey stuck his hands out of his shell in joy. He ran over and hugged them both. “It’s been a while.”

“Hey, Apes. And, hi to you too, Casey.” Leo kicked his legs up behind him.

“Above ground has been pretty hectic,” April leaned on Donnie’s shoulder as she spoke, “Everyone has been freaking out about disappearing from New York for a few days. Relaxing on a yacht sure beats coming back to the city in shambles. And finding another job is so hard when everyone’s paranoid we’re gonna all disappear again. Ugh, I wish we did, then I’d get another break!”

“Well, if you want a job, you can help me repair what’s left of my s- I mean, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. The Shredder tore him apart.” Donnie put his hands on his hips and relaxed his posture to cover his slip-up.

“Aw, your cute robot son isn’t repaired yet?” April teased.

As the two bickered while walking towards the lab, Raph looked back at Casey, who was standing by the entrance, visibly tense. 

“Hey, Casey. Um, why are you here?” Raph asked innocently, not realizing how rude he sounded.

“Smooth,” Leo chimed in unhelpfully.

Before he could take it back, Casey spoke, with a glare on her face. “I’m here for the orange one.”

Raph blinked. “Huh?”

“We’re gonna bake brownies!” Mikey clarified, his chest puffed out with pride. “Casey decided that I’m worthy of learning an old family recipe.”

“Yes!” Casey grinned, in a way that was far too menacing for someone talking about brownies. “I decided that, as a new member of your- um…” clan? Group? Committee?

“...Family?” Raph assisted.

“Uh, yes, that,” she turned shy for a few brief seconds, only to return to her previous bravado, pumping her fist in the air, “I will honor you with the knowledge of my grandmother’s most nefarious secret!”

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

Raph peeked into the kitchen as Mikey and Casey got to work. Of course, he trusted Mikey; but he had a hunch that Casey might be up to something.

Or maybe the boredom was just making him a bit more paranoid than usual.

Dirty dishes, half-full cups and brownie mix were strewn about the kitchen counter. Whatever this recipe pertained, it must be pretty intense.

“And, now, for the final ingredient. This one was given to me by my grandmother.” Casey pulled a canister of brown powder. She leaned over and whispered close to Mikey’s head. Whatever she was saying, Raph couldn’t hear.

Mikey gasped. “PUMPKIN SPICE?!”

Casey shushed him, then yelled herself. “It’s a secret, remember?!” She poured a generous amount into the mixing bowl full of batter.

The two of them looked so happy baking together, and Raph felt a pit of guilt in his stomach for assuming the worst. He really needed to chill out.

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

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Leo sunk into the bean bag chair, “You’re a fan of Lou Jitsu, right?”

“That is correct.” Casey was sitting stiffly in her seat. Her expressions were intense, like she was about to strangle someone, but Raph had realized pretty quickly that this was just her default.

“You have all of the movies memorized?”

“Of course! I used his guidelines for self improvement in my schemes to take over the world! I mean, that’s not really relevant now, but-”

“And you said you spend almost all of your available money on Lou Jitsu merch?”

“I hide them all so my guests don’t see.”

“And, yet, you’ve never watched a Jupiter Jim film? The Jupiter Jim, his longtime franchise rival and co-star in Jupiter Jim Vs Lou Jitsu?” Leo clutched at his chest, as he held up the DVD case of the movie he was talking about for emphasis.

“Leo,” Raph warned, looking up from his phone, “don’t make her feel bad-”

Leo chuckled. “Oh ho ho, trust me I won’t. I’m definitely putting on a Jupiter Jim Vs. The Galaxy Riders Part 1 and Part 2, and you are going to love it!”

Casey cackled ominously. “You really think this ‘Jupiter Jim-’” She made quotation marks with her fingers for emphasis, “-can measure up to the greatness that is Lou Jitsu? Fine, I guess we’ll just have to see.”

Raph ended up dozing off after the fifth film, and woke up to see Casey and his brother still openly debating whether Lou Jitsu would beat Jupiter Jim if they were both in a desert completely unarmed and at full strength.

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

“I’m not scared of much,” Donnie mentions offhandedly one day, while Raph was doing a bicep curl, “but she -”

He points to Casey eating a sandwich like a hyena, while April sat next to her, texting.

“She terrifies me to no end.”

Donnie’s strange relationship with their new friend took Raph a while to comprehend. Then it became clear as day. If anyone could match Casey in moral ambiguity, it was his immediate younger brother.

“I made you a little gift,” the softshell grinned smugly, as he handed Casey what looked like a metal hockey stick.

“Oh, um,” Casey's eyes were wide, and a little watery, and her lips were in a warbly smile. “Thank you… no one’s ever given me something so nice.”

Donnie grinned. “Press the button on the side.”

When she did, the widest end of the hockey stick flipped open like a lighter, and a stream of fire shot out of the tip. Casey’s tears of joy gave way to maniacal laughter. “Those kids at the hockey rink won’t know what hit ‘em!”

Donnie joined her in glee, his eyes and teeth shining menacingly in the light of the flames. Raph watched in mild horror (He was plenty used to Donnie’s antics), at least until the fire alarm sounded and they were all drenched from the sprinklers.

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

Another month had passed since Casey started coming around, and Raph seemed like the only one in the lair who hadn’t quite jived with her yet. Sure, his suspicion had pretty much subsided, and he liked her company plenty, but the two of them hadn’t really clicked.

However, he noticed some slight changes over time. Casey’s eyes had bags under them which were more obvious in brighter lights, and sometimes she fell asleep on April’s shoulder (and snored louder than his Pops, somehow). Sometimes, there were hints of sadness on her face, even when she was laughing along with everyone.

Raph didn’t mention it for fear of being rude, but he couldn’t help his concern. After all, if she was upset, she probably wouldn’t mention to him all of the people.

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

Hockey wasn’t a sport Raph and his brothers knew much about, but he couldn’t help but get excited as Casey gushed about it, holding tightly onto the treasured tech-hockey stick Donnie had gifted her, wearing a huge grin on her face.

The two humans and four turtles (disguised as humans, of course) were just entering the hockey rink. The hall to the auditorium was cold and echoey.

“I come here every other Friday. The regulars here know my face, and they fear it. It’s ‘cause they know I’ll decimate everyone in my path!” She pumped her fist as she spoke, a sinister grin on her face, before she caught herself and straightened out. “Well, I do until the rink’s supervisors kick me out for making a scene and being mean to children.”

“Don’t sweat it, Casey,” Donnie spoke up, “You’re not the only one whose been kicked out of establishments for scaring kids.”

“Uh huh, exactly!” April agreed a bit too eagerly, and Raph looked back to see the distant, traumatized look in her eyes, and he could tell she was remembering the screams of children and the  sinister laughter of animatronics at a certain pizza joint.

The six teens got to the rink’s auditorium, and put their bags down on the bleachers. There weren’t too many people around.

Mikey whistled. “This place is massive!”

As Raph put on a maroon hoodie and pulled on his skates, Casey rolled onto the rink, over to a huddle of teenagers wearing hockey gear. “Hey!”

One of the teenagers - a boy with messy brown hair covering his eyes - responded. “Oh, you again. Guys, look, it’s that crazy girl from last week.”

“The name is Cassandra Jones!” Casey pulled down the hockey mask she was wearing and held up her stick. “I’m challenging you to another round! Did you really think you’d escape my wrath?!”

The kids started laughing. “You challenge us every time we’re here, and you always lose. What makes today so different?”

Casey laughed. “Well, for one thing, I’ve got my own team now, so you better get ready to go crying to your mommy!”

The group hadn’t stopped laughing, even as Casey walked back to the bleachers. Raph raised a brow. “Uh, what was all of that?”

She looked down. “Those are my enemies,” She clenched her fists, “A group of jerks who manage to beat me every time I come here.”

Raph paused for a second. The look on her face was determined, but had a hint of sadness to it. Raph understood how she felt; wanting to fight, but getting beaten down time and time again. He’d realized a while ago that he didn’t have to do it alone; and neither did she.

Raph put an arm around Casey’s shoulders, and cupped a hand to his mouth, shouting to the teenagers from across the rink. “Hey, knuckleheads! You get ready for a match; you’re not just dealing with Cassandra Jones anymore! you’re dealing with the Mad Dogs, now!”

“Yeah, right!” One of the kids, a girl with a ponytail, shouts back.

He turned to face his brothers and April, who were sitting on the bleachers, their attention already on Raph from his shouting. “Hey, those guys over there are saying we’re gonna lose! What do we say to that?!”

“Oh ho ho, I like this energy!” Leo stood up on the bleachers, joining in the hype. April and Mikey stood up beside him.

“Yeah, you chumps aren’t even at our level!”

“Ya’ll ain’t seen nothing yet!”

Donnie stood up slowly, his arms crossed from the cold. “Yeah, we’ll definitely beat you! But-” He switched to his normal volume, “let’s not make promises we can’t keep.”

Raph dismissed him, and looked at Casey, who was smiling. Together, they were able to beat the Shredder. This would be a piece of cake.

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

“Are we done? My mom is here to pick me up,” One of the kids, a girl with pigtails, mentioned as she walked towards her belongings on the bleachers.

Raph was gasping for air from his spot on the cold ground. Hockey was hard. Like, really, really hard.

In hindsight, their loss made sense; this was the turtles and April’s first time playing hockey, and even Casey, who’d been playing since she was a kid, wasn’t able to beat these kids. They really were just that good.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” Leo had fallen in front of the goal, two huge purple bruises visible on his face; one on his forehead, and the other under his eye, popping out from his green skin and red birthmarks.  

Mikey was crying on his knees, while April patted his shell, cussing out one of the kids who she felt pushed him too hard. Even as the kid was walking away. “And another thing-”

Donnie lay flat nearby, looking like a purple stain on the white shiny floor. He was never good at sports, but he tried. Geez, it was almost more embarrassing, with just how hard he tried.

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

They found a vending machine, and after Raph gave Leo a cold soda can to hold over his bruises, he walked past Casey, sitting with her head in her hands.

“Hey,” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and looked around to see if the others were watching. April, Mikey and Donnie were going off about losing the match, while Leo sat dejectedly in the corner, nursing his injuries. “Are you alright?”

She looked up, tears in her eyes, and her lower lip wobbling. She hastily rubbed at her face with her sleeve, her eyeliner smearing. “I’m...I’m fine.”

“Is this about us losing?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” She sighed. “It’s a lot of different things- It’s just…”

She trailed off, and Raph sat down next to her on the bleacher. He realized this had definitely been bubbling up for a while. If only he’d talked to her sooner.

“Ugh, all I’ve ever wanted was to be a success. Taking over the world was everything for me- helping the Foot, working for the Shredder, making that whole brownie pyramid-scheme. But now? I don’t have anything. I’ve hit rock bottom. Now, I’m stuck in a stupid rivalry with a bunch of kids in a hockey rink.”

She began to cry again. “What am I going to do? Am I just doomed to be a failure?”

“Just ‘cause you’re not taking over the world doesn’t make you a failure. Most people just stick to regular, everyday stuff and they turn out fine.”

“It’s not just about taking over the world,” Casey sighed. “I don’t have a purpose. No Clan, no commitments, no future. It’s like everything I do is a failure. I’m a failure.”

Raph felt himself start to tear up, too. What she was saying felt way too familiar. “You’re not the only one whose failed.”

“Huh?”

“My Pops told us we were supposed to die in order to protect the Dark Armor. We failed to do that, but we realized how messed up that was, and we decided to do our own thing. And it totally worked out for us, ‘cause we ended up destroying Shred-face once and for all.”

He stood, wiping the small tears from the corners of his eyes. “Think about it. So what that you don’t got a purpose? I get it, but your ‘purpose’ was handed to you by those Foot-faces. What do you wanna do? What do you wanna succeed at?”

Casey sat quietly for a few moments, thinking, and Raph feared that he might have said something hurtful. He was never as savvy with people as Leo or Mikey.

Then she spoke. “I spent all of my life trying to be the best, even if it meant being the biggest bad guy in the world. Now, I want to be the best good guy!”

Her expression softened. “I guess what I really want - I want to stop people who were like me once. I want to stop evil people who want to control others. But...how?”

Raph thought. Then, an idea struck him. “You and me can team up!”

“For what?”

“I was a vigilante for a little while. I mean, I used to be, but I guess since I was already part of a team, and with the whole Shredder thing, I just sort of stopped. But, since my bros are on hiatus, you and me could fight crime undercover!”

Casey was looking at her lap, her head bowed. Raph cleared his throat. “I mean, only if you wanna, it’s just a suggestion-”

“That sounds amazing.” Casey looked up at him in awe, her dark eyes glossy with unshed tears. Suddenly, she stands up, and pumps a fist into the air. “Raph and Casey, the most feared vigilante duo in all of New York!”

“Yeah, Go big or go home!”  Raph pounded his fist into his other hand in excitement.

��Oh me gosh, stop yelling!” The two look behind them to Leo, still holding the can to his face. He turned in the direction of his twin. “Donnie, get me another can! This one’s warm!”

Casey was giving him a big smile, a far cry from her previous mood. Raph smiled back. Finally, he’d be able to go out and fight crime again; and this time, he wouldn’t be at it alone.

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

lukebobby + the song last one by the aces

Thanks for the prompt, friend! Ngl I don’t have a lot of experience writing based on songs but this one is a BOP so I ended up having a lot of thoughts about it, almost none of which ended up getting written lol. This song felt like a Luke and Bobby POV thing rather than one or the other, so maybe I’ll expand on this someday, but for now just have some Bobby POV. (This is based mostly on the first couple lines of the song because I didn’t want to do songwriting Bobby again). Hope you enjoy!

(Also if you’ve sent me a prompt, I promise I’m getting to it, I’m just slow and working on twelve different things at the same time and also trying to graduate lmao but I’m done with school in two weeks so starting then, I’ll be faster getting them out. And I’m technically still accepting more if you have them, just know they’ll take awhile)

Read on ao3 here:

—

Sometimes, Bobby closes the curtains on his bedroom window. When he’s got a lot of homework to do, or when his parents’ dumb friends are over, or when he has a migraine (usually, when he has a migraine). It covers his room in a cool swath of darkness that automatically calms him down, eases his pain, lets him focus. And it’s an unspoken signal for Luke to stay out in the studio—when Bobby’s curtains are closed, Luke knows that Bobby needs to spend the night alone.

He’s been closing them less and less often lately.

Bobby lies awake in bed on a Tuesday night, anxiously tapping his fingers against the bedspread. There’s a Metallica song stuck in his head, but for once there’s no music playing, in either his room or the empty guest room next door. He didn’t want to risk anything blocking out the sounds of knocking on the window or Luke’s soft, husky voice calling his name from the porch roof outside. Exhaustion weighs him down, making his stomach ache and his eyes sting, but he knows he couldn’t fall asleep even if he tried. And he doesn’t dare try. He stares at the ceiling, humming under his breath, and waits, and listens, so tired but wide awake.

When the sound finally comes—a sharp tapping on the glass too quiet for Bobby to hear if he weren’t waiting for it—he startles, sits up, and shoots a quick glance at the shadowed window before scrambling out of bed to flip on a light.

The clock reads 3:42am. Bobby has school tomorrow—a math test Reggie helped him study for that he’s still pretty sure he’s gonna fail. Luke has an early shift at the Music Store, and Mr. Schaefer always freaks out when he’s late, which just makes Luke grumpy the rest of the day. This will be the fourth night in a row where Luke’s come to Bobby's room in the middle of the night, the fourteenth this month (because yes, Bobby’s been counting). Bobby never gets any sleep with Luke curled up next to him, warm and solid and intoxicatingly beautiful, but it’s not like Bobby ever gets that much sleep alone. And Luke definitely sleeps better in Bobby’s bed than he does on that ratty old couch in the studio.

Still. It’s not like they’re dating or anything. Bobby’s more than a little bit in love with Luke, but it’s not like Luke knows that. Every second Bobby spends lying awake with Luke close enough to touch, close enough to kiss, is literal torture. He should stop inviting it. He should stop letting Luke in.

He pushes the window open, all his exhaustion flooding away in an instant.

Luke perches on the porch roof, crouched on the balls of his feet with his fingers splayed out in front of him for balance. He’s wearing plaid pajama pants that are too short at the ankles, a short-sleeved AC/DC shirt that Bobby’s pretty sure was Alex’s at one point, and a pair of shabby sneakers on the wrong feet. His hair is windswept and disheveled under his orange beanie. The smile he gives Bobby is a little apologetic, a little mischievous, a little coy. It makes Bobby’s heart skip a beat.

“You can’t keep doing this, Patterson,” he says, keeping his expression and tone neutral (maybe even a little annoyed), as if he hasn’t been up all night hoping Luke would come. “You know it’s 4am on a school night, don’t you?”

Luke’s smirk only widens. “Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep. You gonna let me in?”

Bobby should say no. He should send Luke away, back to the studio, claim he needs his bed to himself for once.

Instead, he steps back, grumbling, “This is the last time, you hear me?”

He says that every time. Luke doesn’t appear fooled.

“Wanna talk about it?” Bobby says into the darkness a few minutes later, once they’re both in his bed, lying on their sides facing each other.

“Talk about what?” Luke’s voice is quiet, almost reverent. Bobby can just barely make out Luke’s silhouette, backlit by the moonlight coming through the window, but he can feel Luke’s breath on his neck and it takes everything in him not to shiver.

“Your—your nightmare,” he stammers after too long a pause. “Whatever brought you here.”

Luke hums, shifts closer so that his feet tangle with Bobby’s beneath the covers. “Didn’t have a nightmare. Just didn’t want to sleep alone. Wanted to be here with you.”

Bobby’s breath catches. “Oh.” He tries to think of something, anything else he can say, but all his attention is locked on Luke’s warmth, so close it raises Bobby’s own temperature.

“But don’t worry,” Luke murmurs sleepily, rolling even closer to fling an arm across Bobby’s chest and press his face into the crook of Bobby’s neck. “Last time, right?”

--

Taglist (editing cause tumblr’s dumb and I don’t think these tags worked so sorry if you get them twice): @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @nickalicious @reggiescrookedteeth @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @cest-la-vie-de-la-lee @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @moreflowersthanweeds @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @shellydominique 

[ramen-rambles]

Study Session

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader x Kirishima Eijirou

Warnings: 18+, threesome, pillow humping, double penetration

Word Count: 4.0K

Summary: You need help studying and Bakugou and Kirishima were having a study session in their dorms. However, upon entering, you see that they’re up to something else. 

A/N: First real post on here! Just pure filth. I did this instead of working on my essay. Also, I have no idea why this turned out to be so fucking long. Anyways, enjoy? 

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

Finals season was fast approaching UA. Given that you were in your third year of university, you couldn’t really afford to fuck up. That being said, you had been studying all day in the library with Bakugou and Kirishima. Most of the time, you were off doing your own thing but Bakugou kept on getting frustrated at Kirishima’s incompetence and lack of understanding. Their constant bickering made it impossible to focus so you started gathering your things, wanting nothing more than the peace and quiet of your dorm. 

“H-hey! Where are you going? I thought we were supposed to be studying together…” Kirishima said with a pout on his face. 

“Well, I tried. But with you and Anger Issues over there never shutting up, I can’t fucking focus on anything else.” 

Your tone sounded harsher than normal and Kirishima couldn’t help but notice. Bakugou’s words didn’t make the situation any better either. 

“If you fucking fail the final next week, don’t come crying to me, you fucking dumbass.” 

You were going to come up with some snarky response to counter him but Kirishima ended up easing the tension instead. 

“Um, okay then, but just make sure you actually study! But if you still don’t get it, Bakugou and I are going to probably pull an all nighter tonight or something in my dorm. I still seriously don’t get anything and I don’t think I have any other option except to cram.” He said, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“Whatever. You better not fucking fail either, Shitty Hair.” huffed Bakugou with a light smack to Kirishima’s head. 

“Alright, well you two have fun. I actually think I get it a little so I’ll just do some practice tests or something. But thanks for inviting me anyways! Good luck.” 

While you weren’t particularly worried, you couldn’t deny the fact that math had always been your weakest subject. The night had dragged on and it’s been hours since you made it up to your room. You were breezing through the notes and you felt confident enough to do a practice quiz. 

However, with the problems set in front of you, you realized that you, in fact, knew nothing. 

“Man, what the fuck? This shit doesn’t make any fucking sense! This literally can’t even be the same fucking thing.” You cursed to yourself. You started losing hope, but then, you suddenly remembered what Kirishima had said to you earlier that day. Glancing at the clock, “Fuck, it’s like 3am already. Goddamn. I mean… They did say they’re pulling an all nighter, right?” You muttered in defeat.

Feeling frustrated and without many options left, you decided to take up the redhead’s offer and started making your way up to the fourth floor.

“It is kind of late, I hope they’re still awake...“ You thought to yourself.

Walking down the hallway, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard a particularly loud moan come through Kirishima’s door. 

Did you hear that right? Did your ears deceive you? What was going on in there? 

Confused, you pressed your ear against his door and sure enough, there was that sinful moan again. 

Your thoughts started to wander and you leaned in closer, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together at the lewd noises coming from the other side of the door. 

“F-fuck Eiji. Just get on with it already!” Bakugou cried, voice dripping with need.

“You like that, baby? Tell me all the naughty things you want me to do to you, Katsuki.” Kirishima breathed out through teasing pants. 

Initially, like any sane person, your first thought was, “What the actual fuck. Weren’t they supposed to be studying? Why does it sound like a fucking porn video in there?” You felt dirty, to say the least. But you couldn’t deny that you started getting hot and bothered. “No, this is wrong. I shouldn’t be listening to whatever the fuck they’re doing.” You shook your head and snapped yourself back to reality and just as you were about to make a break towards the elevator, you heard that sweet moan again.

Now, you definitely knew you weren’t dreaming. 

Face blushing profusely, you felt a familiar heat begin to pool in your stomach as you continued to listen to the sinful sounds coming from the two boys on the other side of the wall. “Oh, fuck it.” You mumbled.

You couldn’t resist yourself from dipping your hands underneath the hem of your shorts as you began rubbing soft circles on your clit, a wet patch slowly forming in the middle of your underwear. Careful not to make a sound, you turned around and slowly slid down to the floor, pressing your knees against your chest, allowing easier access to your soaking wet sex. 

“I want you to fuck me, Eiji. Make me feel good. I want you to fucking pound me until I can’t fucking walk anymore. I need you to make me cum.” God, Bakugou sounded so sexy. You could only imagine what he looked like.

What was Kirishima doing to him? Was he sucking his dick? Was he eating his ass? What could Kirishima possibly be doing; that made Bakugou fucking Katsuki moan like a such a horny little bitch?

His submissiveness lit a fire within Kirishima, who merely responded by obviously pleasuring the needy boy, desperate to hear more of his moans “Get on all fours, babe.” 

You brought two of your fingers into your mouth and allowed your spit to collect around it before you swiftly moved your panties the side and teased your pussy, dragging your finger along your slit, wincing a bit as you slowly pushed them inside yourself, desperate for some sort of relief. You closed your eyes shut as soft pants escaped your mouth and you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to control your sounds of pleasure. Anyone could have seen you touching yourself to your friends’ moans but you didn’t really care at this point. 

You were becoming more and more flustered as you imagined what those two were doing to each other. You trailed your cold hand under your shirt, reaching up to rub your nipple, the difference in temperature only adding more pleasure as you continued pumping your fingers in and out of your needy cunt. 

So engrossed with your own dirty thoughts, you failed to realize that the boys could also hear you from the other side of the door. Your fingers curled and brushed against your g-spot, accidentally letting out a loud moan. 

Fuck. 

Before you could react, the door swung open and you fell onto your back. You looked up and saw a naked Bakugou and a half-naked Kirishima staring down at your body, fingers still knuckle deep in your cunt. After you register what had happened, you immediately pulled out and shoved your shirt down, looking away from the two boys. How embarrassing. 

“I-it’s not what you think! I was having a hard time understanding the formulas and I remembered what you said and I just wanted help but then I heard you guys moaning and I couldn’t help but listen in--” Your sorry excuse of an explanation was cut short as Bakugou slammed the door shut behind you while Kirishima crouched down to grab you by the waist and throw you onto the bed, legs spread apart for them to see all your shame. 

“You’re such a dirty slut, you know that? Touching yourself while we were about to fuck,” Bakugou looked down at the very visible wet spot on your shorts and scoffed  “just look at how fucking wet you are.” He said as his fingers teased around your cunt, collecting your slick between them. The sudden contact causing a jolt of pleasure to run down your spine. 

“Damn baby, you’re fucking dripping.” Kirishima groaned at the sight laid before him, palming his erection through his boxers. 

Bakugou brought his fingers up to Kirishima’s mouth, who licked them clean. “You taste so fucking good, princess.” He said teasingly. 

“Y-you’re one to talk, Bakugou! You sounded so fucking needy!” You weakly retorted, an attempt to salvage the remains of your pride.

Bakugou roughly grabbed Kirishima by the back of his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, wanting to have a taste of your sweetness. You couldn’t deny how hot they looked and your hips bucked up at the sight, to create some much needed friction as you continued to watch them swap spit with each other. 

“Says the bitch who was touching herself in the fucking hallway.” Bakugou snapped back. “I bet you wanted us to catch you, didn’t you? Fucking slut. You should be punished, you know.”

“C’mon, Katsuki, no need to be so harsh with her.” Kirishima coaxed. “Look at how desperate she is. She practically came just by hearing how good I made you feel.” Playfully running his hands over Bakugou’s back and down to his ass, giving it a loud slap. He looked down at your flustered state, almost taking pity on how sexually frustrated you were. Keyword; almost.

“But you know what? I think you’re right. Naughty girls have to be disciplined after all.” 

And with that, he stripped himself of his boxers, you quickly following suit. Kirishima then grabbed his uniform belt off the floor. “Don’t worry, baby girl. We’ll make you feel good. Just listen to us first, okay? Now, put your hands behind your back.” You sat up on the bed and did as you were told, anticipation clouding your thoughts. He tightened the belt around your wrists, the leather biting into your soft skin. You tugged at the makeshift restraint, trying to loosen it a bit, but the pain you felt quickly morphed into pleasure as you realized how dirty this was all playing out to be, your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Now, where were we, Katsuki?” Kirishima taunted with a devilish grin on his face. He roughly pushed Bakugou onto his knees with his ass up in the air, hands spreading his cheeks apart and proceeded to teasingly swipe his tongue over his puckered hole. Bakugou shuddered as Kirishima continued his assault, drool gathering in his mouth and letting it drip down Bakugou’s ass. Kirishima circled his tongue around the rim and slowly pressed in, barely licking inside the tight hole. His hands snaked around Bakugou’s ass and in between his thighs and began stroking Bakugou’s cock, the tip seeping with precum. Bakugou’s hands were fisted in the sheets and his head was buried into the mattress. “F-fuck Eiji! Oh my god, don’t fucking stop.” Bakugou bucked his ass back into Kirishima’s face and that sight alone was to die for. 

Unashamedly, you started rubbing your thighs together and lucky for you, you were able to slip one of the pillows in between your legs and began rocking back and forth against it to get some much needed relief. You slowly began grinding on the pillow and continued to hump it as you watched the two boys in front of you get down and dirty. The rough fabric of the pillow was rubbing deliciously against your clit and you only bounced on it with more vigor. 

“Look Katsuki-” Bakugou turned his head towards your flustered body and marveled at the fact that you began to resort to such desperate measures in an attempt to get yourself off. 

“Fuck! Please touch me… or take the belt off so I can do it myself… just do something already…” The neediness in your voice compelled the two boys to help you out. Kirishima undid the belt and you immediately pulled him into a passionate kiss, quickly thanking him in between breathy moans. Feeling left out, Bakugou made his way up to your lips and tore you away from the redhead, sucking on your tongue and roughly biting anywhere he could reach, leaving dark purple hickeys in his wake. Kirishima began trailing his lips down your shoulder blades, your chest, and stopped at your tits, taking your hard bud into his mouth while his free hand made its way down to your throbbing cunt, burying his digits into your hole while rubbing messy circles into your sensitive clit. “Ah, fuck! Kiri don’t stop, go faster” You pulled away from your heated makeout session to focus on the pleasure that the redhead was giving you, bringing you closer and closer to the orgasm you craved so much. 

“Your pussy is so fucking tight” He stuffed a third finger into your cunt, pushing them deeper into your hole, nails digging into your slick walls, bending down to replace his thumb with his tongue, loudly sucking on your clit. “I am so, so close” Determined to bring you to an orgasm, Bakugou soon started sucking on your nipples while Kirishima only pumped his fingers in and out of you with more vigor. “Cum for us, baby” The oversensitivity paired with the dirty talk and the attention you were receiving from your top and bottom half caused your cunt to clench around Kirishima’s fingers and send you over the edge. Helping you ride out your orgasm, Kirishima kept grinding his finger against your pussy before slowly pulling out, making you feel empty. 

“I want you both in my mouth, please” Wanting to return the favor, you motioned for the two boys to stand up while you sank down to your knees, taking both of their fat cocks in your hands. Spitting on your palms, you quickly pumped their lengths before taking Bakugou into your mouth and sucking down on his cock. “Fuck, you’re so good at sucking cock. You must do this a lot, don’t you? Filthy slut” His words caused your cunt to clench while he fisted your hair and pushed you back on his cock and setting a fast pace, making you gag, only fueling his already inflated ego. All the while, your hand never left Kirishima’s length, who seemed to be growing more impatient as he so desperately wanted to be in the position Bakugou was in. “C’mon princess, it’s my turn now. I want to see those pretty lips of yours around my dick too” He pulled you off the blonde’s length and put his own cock in your mouth. Kirishima’s pace was more gentle but the sheer size of him in your mouth made it difficult to keep up. With you giving Bakugou a handjob and Kirishima face fucking you, it seemed like they were also reaching their end. Giving the same attention to both men, you looked up to see them exchange a knowing glance to one another. 

“As much as I want to cum inside that pretty mouth, I’d rather fill up that tight little asshole of yours, sweetheart” Before you could say anything, Kirishima pulled out of your mouth and sank down to pull apart your plush cheeks, making you arch your back in surprise at the suddenness. He began to lick long stripes up and down your pert hole, slowly dipping his nimble fingers inside your tightness, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. On the other hand, Bakugou shoved himself back inside your mouth and continued to maintain his rough pace, not that you were complaining. To try and take some control, you grabbed onto his pale thighs to give yourself a chance to catch your breath. You licked up and down the prominent vein on his cock, paying special attention to his balls, cupping and groping them as his precum and your saliva painted the bottom of your chin. Feeling his hips stutter, you knew he was close. “I’m going to cum all over your pretty fucking face, princess” He held a tighter grip into your hair and just as you were preparing to swallow his hot load, he pulled out and threw a smirk your way. “Fuck this, I’d rather cum inside your tight pussy. We’re going to pound you so hard you won’t be able to breathe without thinking about our cocks inside you” His words sent chills down your spine as you thought about the two boys deliciously hitting all the right spots and filling you to the brim with their cum, branding you as their own personal cocksleeve. 

Kirishima moved to stand behind you while Bakugou laid down on the bed and adjusted himself to move towards the edge of the mattress. “Fuck yourself on my cock, you slut, and Eiji’s gonna fuck that fat ass of yours” The redhead went to the bedside drawer to grab a bottle of lube as your fingers went down to fist Bakugou’s erection, positioning your tight hole against the tip of his cock. You were so wet that your cunt was literally drooling, your juices dripping down your plush thighs and onto the base of Bakugou’s pelvis. “Holy fuck, you got that wet just from sucking dick and having your ass ate? You are so fucking filthy” Noticing this, Kirishima decided to ditch the lube and instead, he wrapped his hand around to dip two fingers into your cunt and scoop out your wetness, string it in between his fingers, and spread it all over your asshole. Bakugou let out a breathy laugh and proceeded to grab the sides of your hips to slam you down on his thick fucking cock. You let out a loud moan as you began a sensual pace against his length, grinding down on him and allowing yourself to adjust to his size. 

Kirishima’s hands went up to fondle your tits, tugging at your nipples, and placing sloppy kisses against your neck, only adding to the pleasure you felt as Bakugou bottomed inside of you. 

“Holy fuuuck. That feels so fucking good. Kiri, please, I want you inside me too-” 

He didn’t have to be told twice. He eased you down towards Bakugou’s chest to give himself easier access, and gathering saliva in his mouth, he spit and let it drip down your tight hole allowing the tip of his cock to press against your backside. “You okay, baby? Just relax for me, I promise it’ll feel good in a second” Guiding his tip inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him stretch you out in a way you’ve never been before. Bakugou’s hands went down to where you two were connected and rubbed gentle circles on your clit, a feeble attempt to distract you from the pain of being stretched; a feeling he seemed to have been familiar with.  

The three of you let out a collective whine as Kirishima fully sheathed himself inside you, the two boys feeling their cocks brush against each other between the thin wall of flesh that was separating them. After allowing yourself time to adjust to their lengths, you announced that you were ready for the fucking of a lifetime. 

Encouraging them to move, you ground your hips against the two, to which Bakugou responded by quickly thrusting up into you while Kirishima smacked your ass and snapped his hips forward, the pain only elevating your pleasure. It took them a moment to find their rhythm, starting steady at first, then quickly becoming more and more animalistic.

“God fuck, go faster hnnngh” You whined, so close to your release. You pulled Bakugou into a sloppy kiss while your hands found purchase in his blonde locks. Kirishima then gripped the base of your chin to move your head to the side, as he took Bakugou’s lips into a spit swapping makeout session, your mouth moving onto Bakugou’s neck, happily biting and returning the same dark bruises he so generously gave you earlier.

“Look at you- getting off to having your ass and pussy filled by two different cocks. You really are a filthy fucking whore” spat the man underneath you, four fingers dipping back down to rub fast circles into your sensitive clit. Their rough pace caused your tits to bounce with each thrust and Kirishima took this as an opportunity to tweak and tug at your hardened nipples while placing small kisses on the nape of your neck. “God, you’re so tight, sweetheart. I’m gonna gape this fucking asshole of yours” 

The filthy name calling and constant praising only adding more bliss as you continued to get pounded into mercilessly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum” You cried, eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open as you came with a loud cry. Body convulsing, the two men never stopped their thrusting, quickly trying to chase their own release. 

“Please, please I want you both to cum inside me, make me your dirty fucking cumslut, fill me up already please, I need it so badly” you panted, leaning back down towards Bakugou’s chest, your hands coming up behind to spread your cheeks apart, yet another mindblowing orgasm so dangerously close. Your holes clenched tightly around their cocks, squeezing them in between your tight walls, furthering chastising their release. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum again” you whined.

“C’mon baby, cum for us, I know you’ve got another one in there for us, don’t you?” Kirishima cooed, grabbing the sides of your hips to pound into you even harder than before. “Do it again bitch, cum for us like the fucking slut you really are” snapped Bakugou. You couldn’t hold it in much longer and you came again with a loud moan, juices squirting out of your glistening pussy. The way you clamped down on their lengths caused Bakugou to cum first, his rough thrusting coming to a stop as his cum shot deep into you in hot spurts, a little bit dripping out of your sopping wet cunt as you milked his cock for all it was worth. Seeing you and Bakugou reach your orgasms meant that Kirishima was not that far behind. “Fuck, you are so perfect, I’m gonna fill you up to the brim, baby.” He landed a harsh slap to your ass cheek as you continued squeezing around his cock, roughly thrusting a few more times before he came inside you with a low groan. 

You were so spent that you practically passed out on top of Bakugou’s chest. Panting heavily, you tried to catch your breath as you were so utterly fucked out that it was hard to not just collapse with their dicks still inside you. After coming down from your highs, they both pulled out of your abused holes, cum seeping out of you, making you feel incredibly empty. 

Bakugou pulled you off of him as Kirishima gingerly placed gentle kisses across your back and shoulders, grabbing a nearby cloth to wipe away the mess the three of you made together. After you were all cleaned up, Kirishima wrapped his arms around your torso while you let your head lay on Bakugou’s chest, fitting perfectly in between the two of them. Kirishima pulled the covers over yourselves so you all could finally get some much needed rest, and then it hit you. The whole reason you came up to their room in the first place. 

“You know, I still need help with the math. Can we actually study, please?” you complained.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that too…” Kirishima said nervously. 

“Whatever, I’ll help you two idiots study later, just shut up and go the fuck to sleep already.” Bakugou grumbled before the three of you began dozing off. 

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

[sondepoch]

Chapter 4

Hearts on Three (Satan x Reader)

The athlete and the nerd. The rich kid and the scholarship student. The girl who will constantly joke about breaking your knee caps and the boy who will actually do it. There are so many ways to describe your relationship with Satan. Too many, if you’re being honest. He’s your best friend. The smartest tutor you’ve ever had. He also spends thousands of dollars for you at the drop of a hat and holds your hand when you’re feeling down. And in the beginning, that's okay. Neither of you let yourselves get bogged down by labels, both of you content to just savor this newfound friendship. But deeper feelings always have a way of complicating things. And for better or for worse, you and Satan are no exception.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | ✎

MASTERLIST

“Bro, you good?”

Satan blinks the sleep from his eyes at the feeling of a pencil tapping against his shoulder, groggily turning to face the owner of the voice that tore him from his precious slumber.

“...bwha?” is the educated response Satan can come up with in his sleep-addled mind.

Solomon snorts.

“Dude, this is the third time you’ve fallen asleep in class this week.” The white-haired athlete grins. “Keep this up and I’m gonna score better than you on tomorrow’s test.”

“We have a…”

Satan groans inwardly. He has a test tomorrow? The blonde blinks up at the board. It takes a second for his vision to clear, but then it registers that he’s in math class, and everything else falls into place. A quick scan over the whiteboard confirms that Satan didn’t miss anything important, that the chapter the teacher is covering is something Satan taught himself roughly two years back, but the boy still groans to himself in frustration. He doesn’t like to sleep through class. Ever.

“Thanks for waking me up,” Satan mumbles to his friend when he glances at the clock. It seems that Solomon let him doze for nearly the entire period, opting to wake him up a mere minute before the bell should ring. 

“No problem. But seriously, I’ve never seen you slack this hard. You good?”

“I’m fine. I’m just tired because…” Satan trails off, hesitant to confess that the reason he’s so exhausted is because of you. No doubt, Solomon would read way too deeply into that—nope, wait, it looks like Solomon figured it out on his own from the shit-eating grin he’s now sporting.

“Ah, your future girlfriend, is it?” Solomon leans back in his chair, grinning. “The love life is rough, buddy. Make sure you’re using protection at night, though.”

Satan has never been more relieved to hear a bell ring.

“Would you lower your voice?” He growls when a couple of kids passing by give him weird looks. Satan glares hard at Solomon, but the latter gives a grand total of zero (0) shits.

“Sorry,” Solomon says in a voice that makes it all too clear that he’s not sorry.

Satan has never hated his schedule more than in the next moment when he realizes that Solomon is in his next class and that they can’t split ways. Worse yet, it’s Physical Education—the stupidest course of all time because all it consists of is kids walking in circles for an entire hour and being “encouraged” to run. And somehow, to top it off, Satan always ends up walking with Solomon. 

“We’re not together,” Satan grunts to his friend when they’re outside doing laps around the track. “It’s just that it’s fucking hard to balance club duties, her volleyball schedule, and my own studies.” 

“I totally get it,” Solomon blurts. “But you’ve gotta get used to it, bro. Imagine how much harder it’s gonna be to when the two of you start dating! You’ll have to take her out on dates, and—fuck—have you ever been to one of her games? She has crazy stamina, man. The two of you’ll be at it all night.”

Satan thinks back to freshman orientation, wondering why, of all the places to sit, he chose the seat next to the most annoying person in the entire academy. 

“Solomon, can you shut the fuck up?”

Solomon, unsurprisingly, does not shut the fuck up.

With enough difficulty, Satan does finally manage to steer the topic away from Solomon’s matchmaking attempts and towards more normal topics. Namely, Satan’s matchmaking attempts. Of course, just as Satan places no weight on Solomon’s opinions on his love life, Solomon completely ignores Satan’s advice to stop beating around the bush and just ask Asmo out, the athlete having the nerve to say “I’ll ask Asmo out when you ask our volleyball captain out”—as if you and Satan have a remotely similar history to Asmo and Solomon, who, as now known by the entire campus, are both desperately pining for each other but are too dumb to see it.

Satan sighs, shaking his head.

Idiots, he thinks. I’m surrounded by idiots.

It’s to this thought that Satan hears someone calling his name in the distance: an extremely familiar voice, almost grating on the ears, but a voice he knows he should not be hearing. 

Satan shakes his head, deciding that he’ll clear up his schedule today so he gets a nap in because surely, surely he must be imagining you calling his voice. Surely you’re not actually on this track field. Surely you’re not cutting English, of all courses, a subject that Satan insists you pay extra attention to because it’s the single course you're most likely to fail.

“Bro,” Solomon whispers, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Satan closes his eyes, trying to see if pretending that he doesn’t hear your footsteps sprinting closer and closer towards him will make it so that they’re not real.

It doesn’t work.

“Satan!” You shriek, now close enough that he can’t pretend you’re a figment of his imagination anymore. “Satan! Satan, Satan, Satan!”

The blonde continues staring resolutely forward, committing himself to the ideology of I do not see it, therefore it is not happening.

Unfortunately, Satan sees it. And so it happens.

Without any warning whatsoever, you lurch forward and grapple on to Satan, wrapping your limbs around him like a literal koala as you yeet yourself onto him with enough force that Satan is just barely able to remain standing when you attach yourself to him while shrieking: ”Satan! Guess what, guess what!”

The blonde is at a loss for words, so dumbfounded and taken aback that it’s all he can do to sputter out a confused “w-what?” 

You grin at him with a smile so wide it looks like it hurts, and Satan can only stare as you reveal what made you so happy.

“I got an 85 on the Shakespeare test!” 

The Shakespeare test, the man thinks, trying to remember.

The Shakespeare test, he repeats in his mind, a vision of you cram-reading the final acts of King Lear flashing through his mind

The Shakespeare test! Satan realizes with a start, suddenly recalling how it was a test he expected you to fail.

Satan’s mouth drops open at that. He had been prepared for you to get a 20, a 30; the highest you told him to expect was a 60, and even that was below the fail margin, but an 85? Holy shit, Satan might cry if he got a grade like that, but for you, it’s a genuine accomplishment, and he’s fucking proud.

“You’re joking,” he blurts, already calculating how this will affect your average and, holy shit, it’s actually going to pull you up to a passing grade.

“I’m not!” you declare with so much happiness that it’s infectious, and then the two of you are hugging and laughing except that Satan’s literally carrying you so it’s awkward, but neither of you care because this is the highest grade you’ve pulled all year, and Satan is finally beginning to feel like the late hours and the sleepless nights are all worth it.

The two of you are grinning and beaming at each other even when you finally de-koala yourself from Satan and land on the ground; and it’s at this precise moment that Satan realizes just how many people are watching. 

The blonde clears his throat awkwardly. 

It felt so natural when you tackled Satan midair, but he’s now beginning to realize just how intimate that whole scene looked to any onlookers. He stiffens, and you seem to notice, your own demeanor turning sheepish in turn.

A low whistle from next to you diffuses the situation.

“An 85, huh?” Solomon slings an arm around your shoulder, sandwiching you between him and Satan as the three of you continue walking along the track field—effectively sending a message to anyone watching that the show is over. “Not bad, Captain, not bad.”

“It’s amazing, Solomon!” you cry out in turn, grinning as you lean into his shoulder. (Satan doesn’t feel weird when he sees that, he swears he doesn’t.) “I haven’t scored this high since, well, I dunno. I don’t really pay attention to the scores I get because they’re always so low!”

Solomon laughs at that, definitely remembering when he was the same way. 

“It’s all thanks to Satan, no?” Solomon prods, and the blonde shoots a sharp look at his friend. He’s up to something. Satan isn’t sure if he wants to know what.

“Oh, definitely! He literally read every single text out loud to me! I left this one book for the very last day, and he actually stayed with me and—”

“You need to get back to class,” Satan swiftly interrupts, his ears turning red. “You did well on one test, but you need to pay attention if you want to continue.”

“Oh, but—”

Satan practically shoves you away, gesturing wildly the whole time with a vigor that has you confused but compliant as you slowly depart, doubtlessly making your way back to the English building as slowly as you possibly can.

When you’re gone, Solomon snorts.

“You read to her?” He asks, expression brimming with mirth.

“It’s not—it’s an effective studying technique that we use to save time—”

“Oh my god,” Solomon mumbles under his breath, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. “Next thing you know, I’ll find out that she’s sleeping on your shoulder or something. Seriously, Satan, way to make a move early on.”

Satan is incredibly grateful that Solomon doesn’t see how his face changes at that part, a flush rising on his cheeks when he realizes that you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder not once, now, but several times. 

“Shut up,” Satan grumbles, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“No way, man!” Solomon cackles with laughter, finding great amusement in his friend’s frustration. “Oh my god, the two of you are so perfect for each other that it hurts! Here, take a look at this—”

Solomon pulls up his phone and opens up his Photo Gallery, swiping twice before handing it over to Satan.

“Just look at that, dude—” he gestures vaguely at the picture. “You two already look like you’re dating.”

Satan stares at the image, his feet slowing down. It’s a picture of you and Satan hugging, taken conveniently when you were still koala-ing Satan with your entire body because of course Solomon was able to get a picture that quickly, and although Satan can’t see either of your faces due to the side angle, even he has to acknowledge that the two of you really do look like a couple.

“It’s not like that,” Satan mumbles, shaking his head as he hands the phone back to Solomon. 

This might be the first time, though, that he actually entertains the thought of what it would be if it was like that.

It’s not a terrible thought.

You hate away-scrimmages for a lot of reasons.

The first reason is that, more often than not, the environment is hostile. The other team is always bound to have more support, more cheering, more motivation powering them forward while yours has nothing more than the girls on the bench and the loud voice of your coach. 

The second reason is that they always feel like a waste of time. Scrimmages, by nature, are meant to be an extension of practice. So what’s the point of a scrimmage if you spend more time driving to the school than you spend playing against the school? It’s totally backwards, in your opinion, and pretty stupid.

The third reason is the most compelling reason, though. And it’s probably because this is the issue you’re dealing with right now: the fact that at away-scrimmages, if there does happen to be someone from your school who puts in the time and effort to come watch, the pressure on your shoulders instantly triples. Scrimmages are supposed to be fun, enjoyable. They’re nothing more than practice matches to collect data and get ready for when you’ll go against the school for real—but when people from your school travel such a long distance to watch you play not even a game but a scrimmage, it feels like you owe it to them to bring home a win, to succeed, to make the match worth their while.

And while Satan doubtlessly had no intentions of adding to your stress when he asked to watch you play at today's scrimmage, that’s exactly what has happened.

“Listen, girls,” your voice is low as your team groups up in what will likely be the last huddle of the match. “I want us to win this. Really badly. Do what it takes, but bring home that victory.” You take a moment to recite the weaknesses of the other team, trying to downplay their skill and build confidence in your own teammates, but ultimately, you all know the truth. “It all comes down to how we play this point, girls, so let’s play our best.”

You glance around at your teammates, stealing a glance at the bleachers where Satan sits, watching the scrimmage.

You want to make him proud.

“Wolves on three: one, two, three—”

“Wolves!” your teammates echo, raising their fists as the lot of you split off into your serve receive positions.

As it stands, match point is weighing against you, and your team is at a heavy disadvantage. From what you’ve gathered on the opposing team, their libero is a literal legend when it comes to front row saves, and they have an amazing right-side hitter, one that easily rivals your own skill. This entire game, their team has been leading, but all your team needs to secure victory is a measly three points, three points that you know you can obtain if you try hard enough.

You crouch low, getting ready for the opposing team’s serve.

The first two points are easy for your team to get: the first point comes when the opposing team’s outside hitter rams the ball into the net, and the second comes when your team's right-side hitter manages a clean hit through a line of defense that jumped a second too late.

The final point, as always, is the hardest to get.

It just so happens that it’s your serve, so you consciously aim at what you think is the weakest link in the opposing team, but they’re able to recover. From then on, it’s an intense volley back and forth until it’s just you versus the right-side hitter, #18, the two of you fighting it out in a rhythmic contest of pass-set-hit that just won’t end.

It’s at this time that you feel the pressure beating down on you heavier than ever before. More than anything, you want to win. Not just because you’re naturally competitive, not just because you really fucking hate #18 right now (seriously, what business does she have being as good as you?), but because you know that Satan is watching. 

You really, really, really want to bring home a win for him.

It’s to this thought that you set the ball over on the first touch, sabotaging the flow of the game and ruining the other team’s momentum. 

It happens in slow motion as the ball falls, slowly, slowly.

The entire room seems to hold its breath as three girls on the opposing team, #18 included, all pancake-dive for the ball. Sensing their success, you bend your knees, preparing for the ball’s return.

It never comes.

The blow of the ref’s whistle is surreal, almost as faraway as the subsequent cheers of your own team, so empty and distant as they instantly group up for a team tackle—but for the first time, you don’t join them. 

Instead, you’re left staring up at Satan who, from his spot on the bleachers, is grinning down at you with a proud look on his face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy to win a scrimmage. 

Everything else passes by in a blur. Your team regroups and changes out of your uniforms, and the lot of you board the bus that’s set to bring you back to the Royal Academy of Barbatos. 

You, however, stay back.

“I’ll get a ride from my tutor,” you tell your coach, bidding farewell to your friends. 

The man arches an eyebrow at you, asking once and then twice if you’re certain you don’t want to stay with the team, but you nod your head. 

Weird, you think as you go to find Satan, who’s waiting for you at his car. This must be the first time I’ve prioritized someone else over the team.

You decide not to dwell on that thought. 

Instead, you choose to think about how sick Satan’s ride is.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, gawking as soon as you see the car. “Satan, I knew you were loaded, but I had no clue you were this loaded.”

Satan laughs at your reaction, grinning when you can do nothing but stand and stare at the sheer beauty of it: a slick, black Bugatti with a single green stripe down the middle. 

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” you coo, marveling at the interior when you slide into the passenger seat and slug your volleyball bag unceremoniously in the back. “Satan, I think I like this car better than I like you.”

The blonde gives a short laugh, rolling his eyes as he gets inside next to you. “I’ll let you drive it someday,” he offers.

You’re quick to decline, shuddering to think about how many more sports scholarships you’d need to ever pay such a thing off if you were to crash it. 

Satan can only smile at that, mumbling something under his breath that you can’t hear.

“Your match was amazing, by the way,” he says before you can probe him about what he said. “It looked really intense. It’s impressive that you were able to keep a level head even at the end.”

You don’t tell Satan that your head wasn’t level, that you were practically dizzy with fear from the possibility of losing in front of him.

“It comes with practice,” you instead choose to say. “Something we’ve gotta do tonight!”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

You shoot Satan an innocent smile in response.

“Your match lasted a good hour, and I saw you practicing with your team before your bus left.” Satan shakes his head, a frown beginning to spread across his lips. “You’re going to destroy your muscles if you try to do any more. Even you need to rest.”

“Yeah, but resting is boring.” You lean back in your seat and stare at your palms. “Besides, that scrimmage was way too close for comfort. Didn’t you see number eighteen? She was, like, really good. If both our teams make it to the state tournament, we’re going to have a lot of trouble dealing with her unless we practice like crazy until then.”

“Exactly,” Satan says. “Your team needs to practice, not you. The best thing you can do for them is relax and make sure you don’t overexert yourself.”

“But don't you want to reward me for getting a good grade on my Shakespeare test?” A smile curls onto your lips because you know that's something Satan has been thinking about. “Come on, just a few balls? It’ll be quick, I promise. I just want to try a few moves out.”

Satan lets out an exasperated sigh that lets you know he’s agreeing.

“Yes!” You exclaim, resisting the urge to jump out of your seat and hug him because he probably won't be as inclined to help you if you make him crash his car. “Thank you so much, Satan! I won’t be long, I promise!”

The blonde doesn’t say anything to that, sighing softly as he switches his destination from the student parking lot to the on-campus gym you usually conduct your practice sessions in. It takes a while, but when the two of you get there, the spot Satan pulls into is far from the doors. It's a necessity since all the other spots are taken, but it makes you raise an eyebrow because this is the first time you’ve seen this gym even remotely filled up.

You nudge Satan out of his car regardless.

“Alright, so today I want you to make my tosses higher than normal. Number eighteen was taller than me, so I’ll need to increase my jump height if I want to be able to break past her defense.” You pull him to the door, wasting no time to get inside. “And don’t worry if your tosses aren’t perfect! It’ll be good practice for...for when…”

Your train of thought is disrupted when you see how packed the gym is.

“Damn,” Satan mumbles next to you, frowning. 

There must be some kind of athletic event coming up. That's the only explanation you can think of for the picture in front of you. As it stands, there are tons of students inside this gym, everyone practicing their own sport. It’s ridiculous, honestly, because even sports that are traditionally outdoors are practicing inside. You can see Solomon leading his soccer team through a few drills on the far side of the court, taking up one half of one of the six nets set up in the gym.

“They must be here because it’s so muddy outside. All the outdoor sports are practicing inside.” Satan crosses his arms. “Let’s come back tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to get an effective practice in.”

“No!” you immediately exclaim, if only because you see a group of people setting up to leave. “Look, we can take that side of the court. Let’s go! I don’t want someone else to get there first.”

It’s a bit harder to find a spare cart of volleyballs than it was to find a spot to practice, but after checking enough supply rooms, you finally find what you’re looking for. After that, it takes you all of two minutes to wheel the cart over to Satan where you present your findings to him proudly.

“Shouldn’t you stretch first?” He frowns. “I don’t want you to get injured.”

“Come on, Satan. I just came back from a match! My muscles are all loosened up, so let’s get straight into it! The faster we can get this done, the faster we can return to the dorm, so let’s hurry!”

The boy doesn’t look wholly convinced, but he acquiesces to your request nonetheless, throwing you a toss higher than usual as you jump to slam it down.

It’s only once the two of you have returned to your usual rhythm that you begin to feel the stretch in your thighs, and for a moment, you stop to consider the fact that it might have been better if you’d stretched after all, but you ultimately decide that you’ve already started so there’s no point in stopping.

The practice whizzes by, as usual. It's almost pitiful how quickly the end of it nears.

“Three more balls,” Satan says, glancing at the number of balls left in the cart. “Then we go back, alright?”

“Sure thing!” you exclaim with pride, the familiar sense of satisfaction after a practice session well-done setting in.

Satan tosses you the third-last ball, and your feet begin following it as soon as it leaves his fingers. Your feet follow a familiar pattern—left, right, left, jump!—and you force yourself to put in a little bit of extra power to increase the height of your jump, letting your palm collide with the ball just a few inches beneath the peak of the arc to let it slam onto the court at an angle so steep that even a reinforced defense wouldn’t have been able to save it.

“Perfect!” you shout the moment your feet land on the floor. “Two more like that, and we’re set!”

Even Satan can’t hold off a smile at that.

Already in-tune with you, he doesn’t bother asking if you’re ready before throwing the next ball into the air. 

Again, you go through the motions that have been ingrained into your muscle memory since you were eight years old. The sting of pain against your palm is familiar, too familiar, and you’re still high in your jump when the ball spikes down onto the floor.

What isn’t familiar is the immediate calls of concern from across the court.

Everything seems to happen in slow motion.

You turn your head to the source of the noise, the loud group of soccer players who are on the far side of the gym and are all shouting to watch out. You stare at them in confusion for a moment, squinting to look for what they're all pointing at, because right now you don’t see anything to watch out for, and why—

Your eyebrows furrow.

Why are they all looking at you?

That thought is the only warning you get before your feet land—and the first thing you realize is that you landed way too early, that you should have been in the air for longer given the height of your jump. That’s when you realize that you haven’t landed, that your foot is instead twisting on top of a soccer ball that’s rolled directly underneath you.

Your hands go out to catch yourself when you fall, but there’s nothing you can do about the swell of pain that bursts from your ankle when the soccer ball pops out from underneath you.

There’s a moment of trepidation, a single second where your body is completely suspended in the air, and the gym is silent.

In that quiet moment, you hear Satan call out your name in a terrified voice.

Then, the ground collides with you and hard, and there’s nothing you can do as the pain you’d been feeling earlier blossoms out from all parts of your body.

MASTERLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | ✎

Word count: 4.2k

Notes: ive returneddd :D this chapter is dedicated to the vball captain who, in my freshman year of high school, injured herself. her injury was more dramatic, given that it was way more severe and it was during an important match, but irene, i carry you in my heart <3

Comment & Like

Thank you for reading <3

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

[i-simp-for-gintoki]

JuJutsu Kaisen school headcanons

“some jjk school headcanons? not with a reader or anything but just how itadori and the other first years are in school?”-anon

This was pretty fun! Each character is pretty short but it still turned out longer than it needed to be oops.

So we all know that theres a proper private school to teach upcoming shamans. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College...thats a long ass name no wonder i didn’t remember it. But in the manga and anime, they dont exactly go into details of what they do for the school(i might be completely wrong just lemme know)

In the yuuta 4 chapter story, we kinda get a glimpse

Gojo is one of the few teachers and he teaches first years in a small classroom. i dont know what exactly he teaches but sometimes they go outside to train and well when yuuta and the others were training i forget if he was actually teaching anything. Like he gave him a sword to help with his powers and gave a brief explanation but thats about it.

Anyways.

Itadori Yuji:

Is late to class for the first couple days since he doesn’t remember the lay out of the campus

Its so huge for so little people

Sometimes he’s late just cause he slept in

doesnt really understand whats going on

He only just recently learned this world existed so of course he’s out of the loop with everything

he probably naps in class alot or spaces out

‘If i were to feed sukuna’s mouth on my hand...where would the food go? What would happen? How deep does it go?  What the hell has my body become??’

As his thoughts continue to derail, gojo would call on him and he might yell in response

he often asks megumi or nobara for help but they just dis him or ignore him

He tries to study! He really does! But he gets distracted and loses focus quite easily

during training he gets super excited thinking hes going to unlock abilities 

but thats quickly shot down and hes usually just forced to do something really mundane like run laps or jumping jacks

He might get another dummy to help control his cursed energy while gojo does his best to annoy him (honestly it doesnt take much for gojo to be annoying)

believes everything gojo says 

The blindfolded teacher definitely uses that to his advantage

“if you lick this rock it might help your overall abilities” “...really?” “are you doubting your sensei?” “is that...mud?” “Its just part of the rock. Besides you ate a rotten old finger for power im sure you can deal with a little bit of dirt”

He got sick for a week

Fushiguro Megumi:

Hes the kid who sits by the window and just stares out of it the whole class

He finds gojo’s teaching style incredibly annoying

Yes he learns stuff but because of the way Gojo teaches it, he ends up doubting all the knowledge he knew before in the process

Probably does well on tests or whatever homework their assigned

This kid probably makes himself a neat little bento for lunch

During lunch Yuji saw it and asked if he could have one next time instead of always buying food

He rejected his request for a while

But eventually he decided ‘why not its not like it would take that much more effort’

Nobara saw and was like “oh so you made one for a dunce like him but not me?”

Queue a large sigh

Within a month or two he makes everybody lunch (gojo included because he got tired of him always coming by and swiping a bit of food from everyone)

During training he pets his animals quite a bit

When gojo demonstrates a new self defense technique, megumi always gets picked to help demonstrate

110% of the time it ends up with his face being smeared into the floor

Wont ever admit it but he kinda enjoys class with yuji and nobara

Kugisaki Nobara:

Pretty short since i don’t quite know her character that well sorry

I feel like shes a mix of passing but also failing idk

Like during some tests she’d pass with flying colors and without a doubt will show off to the boys

But in other things she’d completely flunk

Draws little doodles in the corner of her notes and thinks about her childhood friend

During training she dislikes learning hand to hand combat

Mainly because she knows shes not capable of beating yuji and that ticks her off

So instead she beats him with her rubber mallet when given the chance

When yuji asks her to join him and megumi, she often complains or makes sassy comments but she never really ignores them

If she wanted to she could just hang by her self but she enjoys being with the two

Gojo Satoru:

This guy never shows up on time

Once he almost did so he simply turned around and decided not to show up at all

He doesn’t necessarily dislike teaching, but he finds giving detailed explanations kinda boring

‘I just told you what would happen, so why are you asking for a reasoning of the reaction’

He wants his students to have a fun teenage life so he often cuts class short by an hour or two just to hang out or go out

He explains how to counter certain types of curses or what to do in some scenarios pretty well

Gojo tries to teach regular stuff like math or history but...i dont know actually

Im not sure if he would happily teach it or just give up after a couple problems

I have a feeling he might just randomly give stupid hard problems and laugh as the first years struggle and fail to solve it

If any of his students do well on a test he’ll give them a small treat

And it may be small for him but its probably hella expensive

I mean he literally just wears clothing that is a couple thousand dollars each

His socks are most likely worth more than my house and everything inside it

Theres probably a small rule book of what he’s supposed to say and what hes not supposed to say

So just to piss the old man off he says everything he shouldnt

He encourages stupid behavior and absoluetly loves it when Yuji and Nobara thanks him for getting treats

[seostudios]

middle of the night: all about luv - p.js

ALL ABOUT LUV ‣ MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

you just needed to pass your classes and you'd be out of this hellhole but of course you couldn't do it alone! it was a two man job with your lifestyle so the school assigned you to the one and only park jisung, clumsy straight a student who you may or may not have now taken a liking to....

pairing: park jisung x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 4.5k

info: rebel!reader, nerd!jisung, strangers to lovers!au, non-idol!au, high school!au

warnings: explicit/vulgar language, mentions of drugs, alcohol, little bit alcohol consumption

a/n: hey omg i can’t believe i finally posted a part to this series, i hope u guys enjoy it and PLEASE tell me if you want a taglist okay? thanks! 

You were fierce, everyone knew. Even those who haven't even seen you and your tricks in-person feared when you attended school. Although you were known to play tricks,  rough-house, and start problems with the other kids who didn't even bother attending school or pursue their actual desires- you had one and was determined to make it come true one way or another. But unfortunately, you were pretty dim compared to the students who roamed the hallways, it never stopped you, Today you decided on approaching your math teacher since she was surprisingly the only one who cheered you on with your aspirations,

"So...I'm passing three of my four courses this semester!?" You eagerly questioned the woman in front of you, "Yes, you are" confirmed with the recent grade updates, you sigh in relief knowing you were passing most of your classes with satisfying marks, so you made your way to the exit. 

However, she pulled you back down to your seat. "You're failing Science Y/n," she added pointing at the 34, "Well I don't even know what's happening in there, how can I pass in such a short time?" 

He stared out the window of the Science lab. He had plans after school, "Jisung? Park Jisung?" an unfamiliar teacher called from the door frame; his attention was mainly towards the girl behind her which sent shivers down his spine.

"Can you meet me in Room 284 after school?" Of course not, he's finally scored a fucking date with Lee Jieun one of the prettiest and popular girls of the junior division, he looked over to Jieun in the back of the class who was listening in on your conversation along with everybody else in the classroom, she looked disappointed but nodded permitting him to ditch their date, he smiled apologetically at the girl before focusing his attention to the door, 

"Sure."

Knocks were heard from the door which made your busy teacher who was marking work signal you to go open the entrance to this quite cold classroom. Roughly around 5'11 probably 6'0 boy is wearing a worn-out white shirt, with a navy blue blazer, pants and a poorly tied tie. His attire was mandatory but his hair was unique, rocking pink-brown hair was not something you see every day unless they were idols. The sun shined passed the windows onto the boy making his rosewood hair turn into a more dark salmon colour. "Jisung!" Your Math teacher chirped to the boy pulling out a chair next to yours indicating you two to sit back down. She took a good two minutes out of your time to finish up on marking and organizing the sheets sprawled across the desk, you and Jisung just sat in silence. In all honestly, Jisung was shitting himself. You and the reputation you had here were most definitely the reason why. Shifting his position every ten seconds, the occasional glances to you, and bouncing his leg. Finally, she turned her attention to the pair in front of her, "So you two are probably really confused."she stated looking at Jisung, then you."Poor Y/n here, my favourite student-"She pauses looking at you with a smile and towards Jisung who looked confused on how,"which is surprising to the staff apparently which I have no idea how...she hasn't been...rebellious in a few weeks since she's trying to pass before the summer break."Clasping her hands together she looks up at you two, "Jisung I need you to tutor Y/n until she gets her final grade in." When I tell you his eyes widened enough for you to see the wrinkles on his forehead form, you did. You smiled accepting the help but it quickly seeing his distressed self, "Are you okay? Do you not want to tutor me?"You asked, and it was your first time ever speaking to the boy he never expected you to sound so soft and gentle; predicting beforehand that you had a rough deeper voice. His facial expression softens slightly at your hopeful gaze piercing through him- hoping he'd tutor you, cause frankly, you needed it more than anyone in your division at this point (Maybe you're being a little selfish but who cares.). Jisung was sitting in his seat, zoned out, probably processing all this. It took him a minute, but he finally looked up from fiddling with his fingers. "Oh Of course I will! I can do Wednesdays after school and Saturday around noon?"It was pretty shocking how confident he sounded ordering you around that second- which made the teacher grin at the shy boy's sudden dominance. Chuckling a little with a small smile plastered on your face you say "Works perfectly, I'll be leaving now. Bye Ms.," You said jolting up grabbing your backpack walking towards the door, but before you leave you gotta leave a nice impression on the boy plus its rude to not say goodbye isn't it. 

"Goodbye Jisung Park."

It was Tuesday and Jisung was sitting in the Music room during lunch eating and catching up on his Health papers when you walked in. This was your usual spot in the late spring when you needed AC and a place to lay down. On a regular day for Jisung, he'd be in the front of the school on the bench working however it was too hot for him today so he opted to break into the already unlocked classroom to eat and study in. Sitting on top of the sink counter you lean to open a window pulling out a cigarette, you came here to smoke and it was a great place since it was deserted. "W-What are you doing?" Jisung asked looking up from his notebook sitting on the carpet. "Do I look like I'm about to jump out the window? no. I'm gonna smoke."You informed sarcastically on the boy. He was slightly taken aback you were so sweet yesterday and today your back with your bad girl reputation still strong. He threw you a quick look before getting up, putting his things in his bag, and throwing out the rest of his lunch. Now, walking towards you he takes the cigarette out your hand before you could even light it and threw it out the open window. "Hey! I wasn't done with that, and I didn't even start with it!" You raised your voice at him which did make him flinch but provoked him to argue back, "Yah! Your smoking is unhealthy and against school rules." He paused but started again, "You want to pass, don't you? I'm helping you pass, aren't I? Get your things together if you want my help Y/n."He spat. Honestly, you didn't think his words would affect you so much but it fueled the fire you started a minute ago. "Shut up Park, stop acting all tough when you know nothing about me, I never needed your help I was just going along with Ms." you argued back before grabbing your backpack and the lighter on the counter before hopping off pushing the tallboy to the side rudely, muttering something about bullshit.

"I was helping her! And she says you know nothing about me Park! like of course I don't butt why does she need to be an asshole when I'm trying to help her out." Jisung complains to Chenle in front of him. "Maybe she's like addicted," Chenle says trying to make the best out of the situation "Look, she'll warm up to you eventually cause you two will be spending lots of time together now." Jisung huffs in disbelief that Chenle is basically on your side here, getting up from the grassy field to join the rest of his gym class in soccer.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees a figure under the bleachers; you. He knows you are upset with him as much as he is with you but he still wants to encourage you to pass Science with his help. "Park! Get your ass over here!" Yedam, his classmate calls him to grab his things on the field before heading into the change rooms.

The school bell rang, you watched students walk out of their classrooms to their lockers, friends, lovers. You were leaning against the wall beside the empty Music room contemplating if you should leave and hang out with some friends by Unjeong Lake Park or stay in with Park Jisung to study for Science. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a voice, "Hey." Jisung stood in front of you, backpack resting on one shoulder and a Science textbook in his hand. "Hi," It was awkward being around him after you little tilt.

"Let's go," You trailed behind Jisung watching him take you to an unfamiliar part of the school, the West End. "Why are we here?" You question the pink-haired boy, but all you get in return is silence. At last, he brought you two to the old gym, it hasn't been used in almost 6 years but somehow it looks squeaky clean. "This is my hangout spot after school, I kind of made my friends go down to Unjeong for the day so we could study here until I find a proper place." He explains to you placing his books and bag on the stacked mats, offering to take your bag too, you let him. "So what Unit is your class working on now?" He asked you once the two of you sat on one of the many beanbags in the gym (Probably brought in from his pals), "Well my mom made me take Biology I and I know you are in my class I just don't show up..." You lean back on the beanbag playing with the lighter in your hands "What are we learning Park?" He visibly gulps at you doesn't even know why he's nervous himself, maybe because your scary? Probably.

"Well we're on our last unit of the year and the Unit test and Final Exam are what can get you to pass the class with at least a 60," He said moving to grab his textbook flipping to a page with sticky notes plastered all over. "We are in Unit 5, Plants: Anatomy, Growth, and Function. It's an easy Unit so we could go through it in two months then spend the two weeks before the final exam prep." Jisung finished speaking and handed you the textbook that was on the Unit page, it didn't look hard but you knew better to judge a book by its cover. "Alright, where do we start." You smile at the grinning boy who's suddenly amused by your aspiration to pass the course.

It's 2:45 and you are in the middle of the last period, Science. It was your last day of the Science of the year, technically. You still had to prep for your final exam, but this was the final unit test which meant for the next month you'd be stuck in a silent classroom with your peers all silently studying over and writing recap notes for the final exam. You finish writing the date on your page and adding a little smiley face at the end of your name, flipping your paper over you take out your earbuds, and play music to pass time. 

Good, 15 minutes have passed, and you see students getting up to hand in their papers, this where you tag along and hand it in too. Patting the eraser ends on your skirt off you make it back to your desk sitting then turning to look behind you, a few desks down to a now chocolate haired boy. He was finishing up his test when he looked up to see you basically ogling at him. Throwing you an awkward half-assed smile he looks back to the girl behind him, Jieun. 

Jieun and Jisung took a very bad turn once Jisung agreed on tutoring you. She's ghosted the boy and took a liking to her lab partner, Taehyun. It was disappointing to see a girl get jealous over her date tutoring a very incompetent girl like you. If you were in her position, you might've gotten scared but wouldn't drop the kid; it was rude, and honestly, you were glad Jisung accepted that fate and moved on from her. He played with the end of his test sheet before sighing thumping his head against the desk, okay maybe he wasn't that over her yet but he's doing better than you ever would. Over these four months you and Jisung surprisingly got along well, you've opted to occupy a booth int he back of your town's ice cream parlor for studying instead of that abandoned gym in the West End. 

In all honesty, you felt bad about how you treated the tall boy in the first few weeks of tutoring. You showed up late which strung the classes longer making one hour, two. You complained, never listened, argued, actually punched him once. But after warming up to him you've started to take a liking, noticing his features a little more than you did last week, finding his beauty mark under his lip stunning. Nowadays he seems ten times more charming, appealing, engaging, and irresistible to you, memorizing his favourite things how he looks up to Kai, the teacher assistant for the seniors. And that he actually hates Science and prefers Gym and Sociology class. He likes all kinds of ice cream and tries new flavors every visit, he never writes with a red-inked pen since he prefers the black one and always lets you know that too ("Y/n did you know red ink stains are a nasty stain to get out, always use black ink."). You aren't the only one who's learned to love the newly blossomed friendship as he's learned as much as you about him, on how you've always wanted to become a Veterinarian, that your love for animals is just unexplainable and the only things holding you down is this horrible reputation you've built yourself over the two years of attending. But better late than ever to change your ways and Jisung was absolutely mesmerized by your determination to achieve the new milestones you've set for yourself.

"PARK JISUNG!" You shrieked barging into the empty ice cream parlor to see the boy sitting idling on his device, he looks up at you running towards your booth. "Hey, shhh", he quiets your overly excited self-telling you to sit."I got my Unit Test mark," you stop talking to take your backpack off and pull out your Unit Test which was graded and with a big fat A on it. "Holy shit! Y/n this is amazing!!"He exclaimed eyes going wide seeing the mark, his hard work really did pay off. 

"Now we can start prepping for Finals," Jisung told you after handing your papers back, your shoulders sagged and your smile disappeared, you were hoping to possibly celebrate with your tutor and newfound friend. Shaking your head, you look at him again, "No sorry, I wanna celebrate this tonight," you inform Jisung who looks at you with a somewhat annoyed expression. "Sorry Y/n but one A isn't going to help you get to a passing mark, you need more than that and the only thing that'll help you pass Biology is your Final Exam which is what we need to prep for." What the fuck? Jisung Park, the golden student, and who you thought was your friend basically telling you that your grade wasn't worth all that cheering two minutes ago. That was unbelievable what type of asshole does that, oh wait apparently Jisung Park. You knew you weren't gonna pass with one test, of course not. You might've been dumb but not to that extent, you clench your fists wondering how all that admiration you had for someone just got poured down a drain so quickly. You chuckle heartlessly ' that thought lingered before you look at him and speak.

"Yea of course I know that but do you not understand how big of a milestone this was for me? I am one step behind passing my hardest subject of the semester and you telling me that it's not enough and we need to prepare for a final at the end of a month that has just started is fucking rude Park."You hiss at him now baffled on how he couldn't comprehend after four- almost five months of knowing you. Getting up you grab your backpack and phone and turn to exit the ice-cream parlor. 

You were now outside of the small store, and Jisung didn't even come after you. Sighing knowing you should've known associating yourself with someone with a better reputation wouldn't have been smart. Pulling your phone out, you dial in a friend who you knew would be there for you and who had more free time than most students his age. "Jeno," You stammered through the phone "Y/n? Are you okay?" You smile weakly at his concern, not even a minute into a call."Can you pick me up?" you asked quietly to the older boy. Looking through the big glass window to the back of the shop, you see Jisung sitting there watching you intently, and he knows he hurt you. It wasn't his intent to; he just wanted you to reach your goals and he thought celebrating could've been done another time instead not today, I guess he hit a soft spot seeing your facial expression so fragile.

He saw a motorcycle pull up beside you and a muscular guy go and place a helmet on your head after holding you in his embrace for a moment before the two of you hopping back on the ride driving off to god knows where.

You kick around an empty pop can on the sidewalk waiting for your ride. Jeno knew something upsetting you over the phone so he decided not to question it and get you riled up but to drink a couple of beers and play darts at his crib. A Black 2018 Kawasaki Ninja pulls up in front of you, the driver removes his helmet revealed to be your dear friend, Jeno. He felt your gloomy aura already deciding to just embrace you tightly, "Whatever it is, you did amazing." He assured you before breaking the hug to plop the helmet on you and hopping back on with you behind him seated.

"Great job Y/n, I can see you making it through the year, I just finished putting in your final mark 89 is an amazing score and all on your own is shocking." Your Science teacher complimented you after holding you back to show your improvement to you, Jeno encouraged you to still study hard solo after acknowledging that you didn't want to work with Jisung anymore, hard work did pay off now your officially finished with your junior year and with flawless grades. "Have a great summer break," You tell her before walking out for lunch. Last day of school before the summer break, it's been a crazy weird year but you don't seem to be upset. Jisung seemed happy without you anyways, you've been skipping Music to sit out on the bleachers while he had gym class, and made sure to visit the West End more often. You didn't realize it yet but Jisung looking happy stung more than it should've.

Fuck that bullshit Y/n is on, Jisung is miserable without her. He didn't take note of it but he was more than happy to spend his Wednesdays and Saturdays with you. He liked the way your eyes widened or how your jaw almost touched the floor when he teaches you something new, or when your eyed shimmered when your grades went up every quiz. How your nose scrunched up at a difficult question, the way you organized his pencil case when he wasn't looking because 'it had to be cute like him'. He was too much of a coward to keep you by his side, it's safe to say Jisung Park likes you back. Head over heels in love with you probably, but we shouldn't stretch it that far knowing he's working his ass off to get over you, and of his mind but when does he even succeed. It's the last day of school and possibly the last time Jisung gets to see you roam the halls, watch him in Gym class fooling around with his friends, or just see you until the next school year. No, Jisung made it his goal to win you back. He's never seen you that way, never thought he'd need you, all he wants is to see you, hold you.

"No Park. She's not even here kid," Your friend, Yuna told Jisung who was at your doorstep asking for you. "Just, just tell her to text me." He said frustrated now leaving.

"I thought you said he didn't want anything to do with you?" Jeno asked sitting on the couch of Yuna's living room beside you. "He doesn't, I don't know why-" Yuna was quick to argue with you, "He likes you and you left." Jeno nods agreeing, "I see that happening..." He half-joked. "Listen I know he was a jerk in May, but it's June- July tomorrow! He's not being a jerk right now because what freaking jerk comes to your doorstep BEGGING to talk to you?" Yuna ranted. 

You know he's not a jerk and he meant no harm that day but it hurt. Everyone always sugarcoated things with you so when Jisung was pretty blunt with you, it stung. You whine at all this thinking about Jisung and feelings, plus even if he did like you, there was so much to unravel than just some lame highschooler who wanted to get her shit together. So so much more than just that. Drinking the rest of the alcohol in your plastic cup you sit up straight staring at the two in front of you who were dying to hear your say in this, "Okay so what if we have our happy ending, what'll happen then? He'll figure out how toxic I am and go running back to Jiwoo or whatever name is."Stopping and using a couch pillow to cover your face- did you seriously imagine yourself with a happy ending, you've fucked up so much that it seems impossible to turn back. Yuna notices your heartache and decided to tone down on his jokes and talk to you 'for realsies',"Sweetheart if he leaves you because your teeny issues were too overwhelming for him it's not worth it but from his recent actions it looks like he'd want to be there with you through those issues. Honestly, he could live a little too so dealing with you- and giving me and Jeno here a break should be thrilling."Adding a light-hearted joke was what you needed to place a soft smile on your lips.

“Now go get your man” Jeno says slapping your back playfully encouraging you to leave the house and venture off to him- wherever he is.

"Can I help you?" A boy wearing Yonsei University sweatshirt asked you. 'This must be Jisung's older brother he told me about' You thought to yourself, "Oh Yes, is Jisung home?" You ask him looking up trying to look as innocent as you can. "Oh you just missed him, he went to get ice cream with his friends," he said. Shouting a quick thanks you run down to the only ice cream parlor Jisung probably knows in town.

CLOSED is all you see in front of the ice cream parlor. Did Jisung's older brother lie to me? Now that you think of it, he and his brother aren't close enough to share those type of things from what you heard, and what type of boy would avoid the girl he supposedly likes. You sit down on the curb looking off into the little soccer field, watching kids play with their friends thinking, then it hit you. Did Jisung lie to his older brother? C'mon Y/n think of the one place Jisung and his friends could be...The park? Nah, too crowded. The mall? No, too far. Think Think Think, one place. Where in the world could Jisung- WEST END! God, why didn't you think of that in the beginning, of course, he's there. Getting up off the curb you make your way quickly to the back of the school, remembering Jisung telling you a back entrance to the West End.

Reaching the back entrance you see it open indicating someone (Jisung and friends) was inside. Maybe you shouldn't barge in and ruin their fun...opting to send Jisung a text you search your pockets to find, nothing. How could you leave your house without your phone? You're like addicted to it. "Excuse me?" A deep voice booms behind you, turning around you look up at the man. It's Jaehyun, the volleyball team captain. "Y/n." You know him, through Jisung, of course, why else would he be at the West End or know your name. "Hi," your breath rather softly which throws the older boy way off since he knows you for your snarky remarks or overly confident aura...Today you seem the opposite really. "Can you tell Jisung to come out for a second?" you ask avoiding eye contact and resorting to looking at the chalked up pavement. He gives you a thumbs up and heads in.

"Park Jisung-ah!" Jaehyun shouts for Jisung loud enough for it to echo in the empty gym. Looking up and seeing Jaehyun, Jisung excuses himself from his current conversation with Doyoung, Yuta, and Renjun to jog over to his Hyung. "Your chick is here," He says pointing out the door to you, Jisung's eyes lit up already knowing who Jaehyun was talking about peeking his head out the door to see you looking off into the parking lot, watching the sunset. He was pulled right back in by Jaehyun, "You better fix whatever's been going on between you, Y/n looks like an actual school girl being all shy and soft. I'm actually disgusted I need that spunky girl back before I force you two to kiss or some shit," Really Jaehyun? Some advice you got there.

"Alright kid go get your chick" Jaehyun cheered before pushing him and closing the door loud enough to alert and make you turn back.

It felt like a dream, none of this felt real. It hasn't even bee 24 hours since you last saw Jisung, but it's been a month of not interacting to get your heart racing this much. You looked unreal to Jisung, out of a fairytale actually and he looked amazing, like always. This is when he started to panic, you smiled weakly and started walking up to him. He looked down at his shoes not having the balls to look you in the eye, "Jisung look at me you pussy." You said so calmly but so rudely(?). It was funny and made Jisung giggle which made you short circuit.

Jisung looks up from his feet to see you staring into his brown eyes, taking in all his features again looking at him from head to toe; how fluffy his dark coffee bean hair was or his cheeks- god you always took the chance to pinch them when you could. His broad shoulders you always wondered how his hugs would be, probably so comfy and perfect. The beauty mark under his lip, fuck always wanted to kiss it. Your thoughts were disrupted when you felt two large hands enclose you in a tight hug; reacting almost immediately you wrap your small hands around his waist and rest your head on his chest while he brings his large hand to caress the back of your head. "I'm sorry, I know what I said was wrong and I shouldn't have made you seem so slow-witted when you totally aren't. I think over that conversation almost every night. I'm so so sorry Y/n," He finishes tightening the hug for a moment sympathetically.

You loosen the hug and tippy-toe up to the boy placing a small peck on his pink lips which caused his cheeks to go crimson. "You're forgiven, Park," you say giving him a tight smile. You see the tall boy pout a little and turn his reddened face to the side before mumbling "I was supposed to do that," which caused a fit of giggles from you. 

"You'll have plenty of opportunities in the future Jisung."

[soudam-appreciation]

Study... date?

Gundam sighed, shrugging his overweight backpack over his shoulder. He had not planned for today to become a social one, though he supposed it was not quite unwelcome. The mortal known as Kazuichi, Tamer of Automatons, had requested his presence here, though for precisely what ritual, Gundam did not know.

Kazuichi leaned back in his chair and rested his legs atop of the table as he inhaled the overwhelming (and honestly, kinda gross) scent of old and new books as he waited for Gundam to hurry the fuck up and get to the library, because he really didn’t have all day. 

He perked up, though, when he saw a small flash of purple and black move by one of the bookshelves he sat next to. Souda stood, waving his hands frantically in an attempt to catch the goth boy’s attention, not wanting to call out and cause more of a scene than the literal highlighter waving his hands sporadically like he was at a concert.

The neon blur tugged at Gundam’s peripheral, and he crossed his arms before him. Facing the boy, he began a usual greeting. “At last, you have been found. Do you not fear this meeting, Fool?” His voice boomed and echoed through the stacks, inciting an annoyed rustle and collective whisper.

Kazuichi’s eyes went wide as he started rapidly shushing him, because if him basically jumping up and down trying to get Gundam to notice him didn’t draw attention to the two, Gundam basically shouting definitely did. Speaking as softly as he could considering how badly his heart rate spiked, he tried to get him to quiet down.

“D-dude! Shut- shut the- Don’t! Stop fuckin’....fuckin’ screaming like that! Jesus! Shudda’...shut the- shut the fuck up! Shhh!” 

Recollection of the location at hand hit Gundam with a hell-strength impact. Clearing his throat, he hurriedly glanced around, mumbling fractured apologies for his forgetfulness. If there was one thing that would make even the Dark Overlord himself bow, it would be intense embarrassment as a direct result of his own foolishness- not that he would even say such a thing. To allow enemies access to his weakness?! Preposterous. He whispered a short apology to Souda as well, for the mortal seemed far more distraught than he. 

Souda groaned softly, rubbing his face with his hands for a few moments before bouncing back almost as fast, a lazy grin plastered across his face. That didn’t stop the drop of malice and embarrassment showing through in his cheerful voice as he pushed out a chair next to the one he was leaning on before to invite Gundam to sit with him. 

There were a lot of books, papers, pens and one lone computer scattered across the table. Souda easily pushed these aside as he sat down to take a sip of his…something. 

Gundam followed suit, dropping his bag on the floor beside him as he took his seat. He was not entirely sure what they were to do on this day, although crawling deep underground was an option he prayed upon. Unzipping his backpack as soundlessly as he could, he retrieved a notepad and slid a simple message to his companion.

What, pray tell, have you summoned me for?

Kazuichi read it over before snatching the notepad from Gundam’s hand, as well as the fancy pen he had (despite there being many writing utensils of his own he could’ve used, he honestly just wanted to be a bit of a dick to his past rival). He scrawled something quickly on it and slid it back nervously, despite there being no teachers nor rules against slipping each other notes. 

ok, well, i asked u 2 come here bc i am fucking failing math and biology and there r these 2 tests cming up i need u 2 help me study for. i thought u’d know a lot abt biology and u seem smart ig so-

He ripped another blank note out to write on more.

-so i thought u could help with, math too. hinata won’t help me he’s mad i spilt monster on his laptop still even though that was a whole day ago :(

The writing was barely legible and Kazuichi seemed to shorten words as best as he could, since he also wrote very large on the small sheet of paper. He slid the second note to Tanaka for him to read.

Squinting, Gundam managed to make out Souda’s print. He sighed, briefly wondering how incompetent Souda actually was, and where to even begin studying. Retrieving his pen, albeit a bit forcefully, he turned to a new page and began his transmission.

Where should we begin? Is there a specific field in which you have little expertise?

As Souda read over the note in the pretty cursive handwriting, he let out a small giggle. He couldn’t help it, reading Gundam’s dumbass Overlord-victorian speak was somehow funnier than hearing it out loud. Snatching the pen and paper back, he started writing.

uh um well i never ever got algebra the little letters always confused me and in biology kind of everything. man i’m not good with that kinda shit like u i’ve seen ur grades you don’t know how 2 whisper when ur flaunting them to sonia lol

Gundham’s ears got hot, and he fidgeted with the end of his scarf. Grabbing his pen, he scribbled out, I do no such thing. I simply share because I am asked, that should be a simple concept to grasp. His scrawl was messier, his haste blurring his senses. Deep breaths stilled his hostility, and he turned to a new page.

So shall we begin with variables, then? You may need to work exceptionally hard to recall these, as no doubt it will be of importance. 

Once again, Kazuichi laughed as he watched Gundam get a little pissed at the Sonia comment. Even when they were slowly getting closer, messing with the guy still yielded hilarious results.

come on man!!!! why r u getting so pissy i’m just teasing u. u know i know that u know we aren’t rivals anymore so calm down!!!!! >:3

anyways uhh ya sure we can start w, variables ig. i don’t remember a lot of this stupid ass math lingo so ur gonna need to remind me some of it.

Variables are those “little letters” you spoke of. If something I mention confuses you, alert me at once. 

Gundam chose to ignore all of Souda’s previous statement, focusing instead on the task at hand. There did not seem a logical reason to become so frustrated when Souda spoke of her. So why did it ignite a hellfire in his chest? 

He shook off the thought, selecting a standard textbook from his oversized backpack and placing it on the table with a thunk. Opening to a page about Variables, the most annoying of unknowns, he slid the book across for Souda’s viewing ease. 

We should begin here, page 28. Do you have a journal for notes?

yeah that’s fine also do u mind me keeping our notes or atleast yours please plz plsssss

Sure enough, the smaller boy was already making a pile of the discarded notes they had forgotten about. Mostly Gundams. It was the only neat thing on the table thus far.

Sighing again, Gundam ceded. He had no use for them, anyway. It caught his attention as slightly strange, but he chose to pay it no mind. Scratching out what information he could on such a small surface, he quickly realized that simply would not work. He slid a mostly-empty notebook from his bag and selected a blank page to share with Souda. It wasn’t as if he really needed the pages in this notebook either, so he added a small note at the top offering the torn-out pages for outside studying.

Souda took the page and studied it, before brightly grinning up at Gundam and quickly nodding. This was fancy shit, definitely not something extremely expensive (he knew Gundam definitely wouldn’t dare share that kind of paper, seeing the small slightly-faded stains of car oil on his hands that he just couldn’t scrub out) but Souda probably wouldn’t be buying these things, especially for every class, without at least a week of ramen dinners to make up for the waste of money working at his Dads mechanic shop.

Souda suddenly realized that ‘fancy shit’ to a slightly broke kid like him was definitely not ‘fancy shit’ to Gundam “I don’t know how to dress casually Ever” Tanaka.

Gundam continued to script line after line, attempting to explain these subjects in terms Souda would understand. The look in Souda’s eyes gnawed at him, such excitement on display over some math notes. He wasn’t certain what rubbed him wrong about it, so he brushed it aside. Reaching the bottom of the page, he printed a small question. 

Do you still understand thus far?

Souda finally grabbed one of his own pens that lay discarded on the table instead of stealing Gundams.

yeah i get it u explain it a lot better than the teachers or chiaki despite ur little demon talk r whatever lol. chiaki use to help me like all the time but she kept falling asleep on me we never got anything done

Reading Souda’s message tempted laughter, and Gundam bit his cheek to silence it. Nodding sagely, he scrawled, As likely as you are to bend truths pertaining to women, this account does seem trustworthy. He knew just as well as anyone how exhausted Chiaki constantly seemed. 

Tugging the newly completed page from its binds, Gundam offered it to Souda as well. 

Souda looked almost offended by the note (he still took it, because of course he did) and hastily scribbled another and shoved it in Gundams chest with a grin.

WOW DICK i’m not gonna go after every girl that falls asleep on me!!! sonia hasn’t fallen asleep on me yet and you know!!!!! >:(((((( 

Gundam stiffened, bandaged hand safely out of sight under the table. If it had been visible, Souda would have a clear view of numb fingers folding against his palm before stretching into claws, over and over. Another deep breath was necessitated by his pounding heart, and he stilled his mind. There was no reason for this feeling. What possible purpose could this rush of adrenaline serve? Certainly nothing pertaining to math. He cleared his throat again, which ended up sounding a bit more like a growl, and took up his pen.

You say “yet”, as if there is even the slightest chance of such an occurrence in the future. This, I do know. A smug smirk crossed his face, daring to settle on his lips.

Souda pouted as he read the note, a somehow adorable sight as he quickly snagged Gundams pen again (once again ignoring his own) and scrawled something on a new note and shoved it back to him. 

nuh-uh! u don’t know shit. unless u can see the future!!! tell me tell me tell me. maybe ur freaky demon shit is real after all ANYWAYS do i end up w miss sonia plz please tell me??!?? :3

Gundam tasted blood as he bit his lip hard. Why was Souda so insistent on her? No, he knew why. She was aesthetically pleasing to someone like him. This was not new information, but it still irked Gundam like hell. He pursed his lips. The last thing he was going to do was tell Souda his pathetic simpering dreams would come true in the end. Or perhaps, the last thing he wanted would be to admit to Souda that he cannot truly see the future? Grumbling, he snatched his pen back and tapped it against his knuckles. Neither option was preferred, though one was a clear admission of weakness…

He settled on a third choice. Of course not. I know precisely who you shall fall for in the end, although I cannot tell you. That is the Law of Causality.

actually it’s the law of cASSuaslity because ur an asshole who the fuck cares why can’t u just tell me!!! if i don’t get with miss sonia or whatever u say i don’t even know if i completely believe ur bonkers shit why can’t u just tell me their name or anything i just!!! want a hint. please 

Kazuichi’s handwriting grew sloppier as he grew more desperate. Why the fuck was Gundam hiding it? It’s not like he’s gonna get suspended for some random ‘law’ or whatever he probably made up. He didn’t even know what the word Causality meant but it sounded exactly like a freaky word Gundam would say.

All I may tell you is that… Gundam paused, wiggling his pen between thumb and forefinger to come up with an excuse. …you have likely already made their acquaintance. All trace of smugness had dropped from his features, now replaced with stale indifference. He locked his worry deep in his chest, buried it. The last thing he needed was Souda to call him out on such a ridiculously big lie.

Souda didn’t know why, but he grinned at that. He grinned at a lot of dumb shit, and Gundam telling him some vague dumbass answer like that was apparently dumb enough to get on his list of Dumb Shit That Made Him Grin. He flicked Gundams note into his ever growing pile and chugged the rest of his drink, his eyes blown wide with the sudden rush of, apparently, sugar. He tapped the textbook again, trying to remind them both to stay on task. His hands were starting to shake too much from the sugar high to make writing any good.

Gundam nodded. They needed to focus on the task at hand.. Which was math. Boring math. Another sigh settled in his chest, and he thought fleetingly on how he would much rather talk about silly magic business. Shaking dramatically dual-toned hair from his eyes, he set to scribbling some more numbers. Stupid, boring numbers. 

Kazuichi watched with interest as Gundam quickly drew out complex strings of numbers and occasional letters. However, his mind quickly drifted as well as his eyes. Higher and higher until he was watching Gundam’s facial expressions shift as he tried to help Souda. How he bit his lip as he hesitated before continuing to keep writing, how his eyes narrowed, Souda half-mindedly thought of how pretty Tanaka’s eyes were, he could get lost in them if he really wanted to, and he did. So he simply tuned out the sound of pen against pencil, rustling of paper and the occasional whisper between others in the library and just stared into his eyes.

Sliding another page across the table, Gundam glanced up at Souda’s face, before they quickly flicked away. On the quickly growing list of things he did Not Want to happen today, was for Souda to catch him staring. Or- he paused. To catch… Souda staring? He didn’t want to look again, even if he was right, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as if he could feel Souda’s gaze. Ears growing red, he scripted a small note back, faltering slightly as nerves made his fingers stiff. 

Do you still understand well enough?

Kazuichi’s gaze didn’t move until he finally noticed Gundam actually wrote words down. He did a double take back at his face before he picked up his pen, his cheeks heating up. Shit, did Gundam catch him looking? His hands trembled slightly from the sugar and caffeine as he scribbled on the paper.

yeah i understand completely ur a good teacher  i already said that didn’t i sorry

He slid the note over, now doing his best to keep his eyes on the table and not on Gundam.

Do not fret, I am pleased you understand. 

Clearing his throat as quietly as he could, he returned to numbers. Gundam really tried to focus, he did. But he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering… Muscle memory served him well, and he continued to write, but his mind’s eye strayed from questioning Souda’s gaze, to wondering why keeping their notes tidy was so important, to the way Souda tapped his fingers on the desk ever so slightly, the sugar and caffeine running rampant through his veins. It soon became impossible to focus, and he started mixing up numbers and crossing them out. He shook his head, hard, mumbling apologies for scrambling up his figures. 

Kazuichi easily picked up Gundams distraction and yanked an empty note from him to write on.

do u wanna stop for today

He slid it over, giving Gundam a small smile as he did. He wasn’t unfamiliar with his brain getting jumbled and melting into mush and before he knew it, the day was over and he hadn’t got shit done. So he didn’t mind giving up for today, starting again tomorrow or next week. He just liked being with Gundam, kinda. As weird as that was. 

Gundam nodded. 

My sincerest apologies, I seem to have lost my senses…

What the hell had gotten into him? This was highly unusual for him. Gundam mumbled another quiet sorry, sliding the incomplete and jumbled page across to Kazuichi just in case he needed it anyway. 

Souda tidied everything up on the desk, sliding his books, computer and the notes into his black backpack. As he stood, he bounced on his heels, the caffeine suddenly taking full effect as he finally got out of the chair and could move around to his heart's desire. He slid his backpack over one of his shoulders and didn’t hesitate to start playing with one of the enamel pins of a vocaloid character that hung from the zipper, needing something to occupy his hands with.

Gundam stood as well, fumbling as he slipped the last notebook into his bag. Offering a hand, he gestured towards the door. He whispered, “Shall we meet again tomorrow, then? I swear I shall do better at my job.” 

Kazuichi laughed softly at that, nodding. His hands fiddled with his jumpsuit pockets as he made his way over to Tanaka, a small bounce in his step. He would definitely blame that and what he did next on the overload of caffeine in his system the next day. He put his hands on Gundams shoulders, slightly dragging him down as he stood on his tippy-toes, kissing him sweetly on the lips before he was already skipping towards the door, waving him bye as he exited, most likely to his dorm on campus.

Blood froze in his veins. Gundam’s heart pounded, throbbing in his ears. His face was beyond red, and his stiffened fingers twitched in surprise. Mouth opening and closing like a fish, he could not even will his feet to carry him after the boy. What… What just… happened? His mind felt as slow and sluggish as if it was buffering through a torrented movie file. 

Finally gathering enough control of his own limbs, he pulled himself through the door. He wanted desperately to give chase, to pull Souda into his arms and kiss him back, but he knew there was no possible way he would keep his courage. So he settled, simply deciding upon returning to his own abode. He would have to speak to Souda at their meeting tomorrow. Just thinking about it gave him… butterflies? Oh dear, what an unpleasant sensation.

. . .

Thank you @kazudam for writing with me! This was so much fun, and something I’ve always wanted to do :’) 

[xaysnotebook]

Chapter 1 - Behind Colored Eyes

“I told you it was pointless to even try to study for that test! It was made to screw over your final grade.”

“I know, but at least we got a passing grade, almost everyone failed besides us.” Alex replied, pacing unevenly. The psychology final was played as the hardest final outside of the math department, and they had been one of the few students to get a passing grade. The only cost of this is that they skipped out on work for a couple days and stayed awake for possibly a little too long. 

“Well, I know you’re hungry, how about that new restaurant down by Semia’s house? It’s some Italian place I think.”

“I would love to, but you know I can't afford it, and I am not asking for money again.” Alex was already in debt because of college, they also had a personal debt to their parents for more than a month of rent and food bills.

“If you say so, you could always dip into your savings again. You need a little bit of a pick-me-up. You could always talk to Sandra.” That last comment made Alex stop in their tracks, their gray eyes almost glazing over with anger. “Alright, that was too far I already know. I’ll leave you alone for a bit.”

“Damn, Jason.” Alex thought out loud, earning him a questioning glance from a couple walking nearby. Jason was good to keep around for simple conversation, but he was definitely able to turn rude quickly. Alex started back towards the apartment, feeling slightly more lonely than before, but nothing they weren't used to. They were a generally lonely person for multiple reasons, but any time they got left, it felt a bit worse.

Alex was a scrawny but tall person, standing at about six foot two while actually standing up straight. They had a mess of blue hair that was starting to fade from being in the sun too often. With a smaller nose and piercing gray eyes, they had been compared to a blue raven before, actually being called Raven by some coworkers and friends. They were also born a male, but had chosen to live by the “they” pronouns when they were around seventeen, being easily passable for both genders and drifting around on what they felt like on a minute to minute basis. Now they were almost twenty-one, and already knew it was going to be another bland birthday, most likely spent with Tasha.

As they walked up to their apartment building, they heard the sound of loud music playing and quickly assumed it was Tasha. However there was a distinct feeling that they were being watched. After glancing about, they noticed a peculiar pair of yellow eyes staring through a set of blinds. For obvious reasons they were taken aback and quickly scurried to the front door of the apartment complex. After going inside, they made a wide path around the strange apartment and got to their own. From the door, it was clear that Tasha was blaring some assortment of rap music, and easily loud enough that they would get a noise complaint later for it. Pushing through the front, Alex found the living room in tatters, the dining room full and random cups leftover, and a clearly hung over Tasha sleeping on the kitchen floor. After turning off the music, Alex walked over to the fridge, nudging Tasha with their foot on the way only to hear a slight grunt. How anyone could sleep with that loud music playing, on a cold floor was beyond Alex, but they knew Tasha was used to it by now. She was in her last semester, graduating with two majors and a minor in only four years, something that would take most people at least eight.

Tasha was the type of person that was born hyper-intelligent, and hated every minute of it. As such, she rebelled by being a straight A student, with an insane party life. She was a chubby Native American girl with long black hair that was almost always braided, bright green eyes, and a large birthmark across her left eye. When Alex had first met her, they had seemed like polar opposites, and almost resented each other. Then they were put as roommates in their first year, and before Christmas break had become best friends, almost inseparable.

“Tasha, wake up, You need to eat something before noon.” Alex whispered as they bent over to shake her awake. “I ate before I drank. I think I’ll live, Alex.” Tasha muttered sleepily, trying to cover herself with aluminum foil.

“Yes, but you also have a test at three to finish your mathematics major, and you need to need to finish your project with Janet.” Janet had made extra sure to yell at Alex before they left campus.

“Ugh, fine,” Tasha said groggily as she rolled over to face Alex, her eyes still blurry from exhaustion, “but only if we can go to the coffee shop. I need my fix!”

“Then let’s go and get your drugs, but you’re buying this time!” Alex said, feeling that all too familiar shift in balance within themself, almost like a subtle knock on the back of their head.

“Two large chai lattes please!” Alex chimed to the barista.

“Seven thirty-four please.” She responded in a monotone manner, “Thank you, name?”

“Alex, and could you put a smiley face under it?” Alex responded hopefully.

“Sure, hon.” She said, a slight smile beginning to creep onto her face.

“Thank you!” Alex beamed. They made their way towards the table that Tasha was sitting at, suddenly remembering that it was supposed to be her turn to pay for the drinks. “Weren’t you supposed to pay this time?” they commented after sitting down. Tasha was staring off absentmindedly, vaguely tracing mathematical equations on the table with her finger. “Hey Spacey! Whatcha thinking about?”

Snapping back to reality, she slyly commented “The probability that they’ll mess up on our lattes yet again. I mean how hard is it to make regular chai lattes?”

“Hey relax! I sweet talked the barista, we should be good for today!” Alex’s definition of “sweet talking” was rather loose, but it always seemed to work out for them.

“Well thank you, you massive flirt.” Tasha chuckled as she eyed him lazily, “You know, you’ve been single since the end of freshman year. Aren’t you lonely?”

“I mean yeah, I’m always yet never lonely. You know how my head works better than anyone else. And besides, why would I need another best friend when I have you?” Alex responded, half heartedly flirting. The two had actually been close to dating once, but had decided against it and to remain best friends. At the point they were at in their friendship, it would either fail miserably or go perfectly, and neither of them were willing to risk everything that they had been through.

“Yeah, but we both know that you..”

“Alex!” Cried the barista, “With two smiley faces!”

“I’ll go grab those for us.” Tasha said as she stood. As she walked away, Alex had a familiar sensation of being watched. Scanning the room, they didn’t notice anyone looking at them besides Tasha as she was walking back.

Then they glanced at the barista. Those same piercing yellow eyes, seeming to attack their very soul. Her eyes suddenly went back to a dull brown color and she shook her head clear, seemingly losing a couple inches of height before going to the next customer in line. “Did you see her eyes?” Alex stammered out while they slightly shook in panic.

Tasha sat down and eyed them curiously, “What? That lady’s? No? Why do you look so scared suddenly?” She peered at him strangely, like an owner looking at a scared puppy.

“I swear, she had bright yellow eyes for a few seconds! Then they were suddenly normal again? You really didn’t see them when you walked up to her?” Alex’s mind was racing at this point, could they be finally breaking apart? They had been warned stability would only last so long, but it has only been a couple years, it was too soon.

“Hey, Alex. Look at me.” Tasha said, grabbing their hand gently, “Is it getting bad again? Do we need to go?” 

“I don’t know, this isn’t how it was last time, not anything like this.” Alex’s voice was getting shaky, they were slowly slipping into a panic attack and were trying their hardest to avoid it as long as they could.

“I know what we saw, that bitch had yellow eyes. You can’t be getting bad again, I saw that.”

Alex shuddered slightly, “Well thank you Jason.” they said, not being sure whether to calm down since they weren’t crazy yet, or panic because a human just had bright yellow, almost snake like eyes.

“What’d he say?” Tasha questioned.

“He saw the eyes too I guess that means either we’re both going crazy, or she actually had yellow eyes.” Alex breathed out heavily, “It could be sleep loss, but that doesn’t usually affect everyone until after days of not sleeping. I’ve only been awake for maybe thirty hours at this point?”

“Okay, home or therapist?”

“Home. Joz is out of town this week for a seminar.” Alex breathed out shakily, still trying to sip coffee that was clearly too hot.

“Then come on, Joz will wait until she's back. And give me your keys, you’re in no state to drive.”

“I’ve driven while worse, but if you insist.” They would have refused to admit it, but they were truly terrified and most likely couldn’t even walk straight, let alone drive home.

After five minutes that seemed to last for an eternity, the two got back to the apartment complex and started heading towards the front door. Tasha glanced over and noticed Alex was watching a specific window very intently, “Why are you watching Ms. Higgans window? Expecting a ghost to come out?” she asked jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood. The only response that Alex provided was a vague murmur about yellow eyes. Tasha had seen Alex during bad breakdowns before, ranging from a light panic attack over tests to a complete meltdown where they had almost jumped out of a window. However, this was a new reaction, Alex was fully conscious but was unable to process much of anything really, almost like a breakdown, but without tears or hyperventilating or yelling or really any bad behaviour. As they walked inside the front door, Alex suddenly stopped directly outside of Ms. Higgans door. “Alex? What’s going on?” As she turned around, she stepped back in fear. Alex’s generally steel gray eyes had turned a deep violet, glowing and pulsating slowly.

[percysaysfuck]

THREE OLD BITCHES KNIT THE SOCKS OF DEATH

I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually they were over quickly. This twenty-four/seven hallucination was more than I could handle. For the rest of the school year, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on me. The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr—a perky blond woman whom I'd never seen in my life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip—had been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

Every so often I would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if I could trip them up, but they would stare at me like I was psycho.

It got so I almost believed them—Mrs. Dodds had never existed.

Almost.

But Grover couldn't fool me. When I mentioned the name Dodds to him, he would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist. But I knew he was fucking lying.

Something was going on. Something had happened at the museum.

I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds with talons and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold sweat.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. My grades slipped from Ds to Fs. I got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her shit faced friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked me for the millionth time why I was too lazy to study for spelling tests, I snapped. I called him an old sot. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it sounded good.

The headmaster sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Fine, I told myself. Just fine.

I was homesick.

I wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if I had to go to public school and put up with my obnoxious fucking stepfather and his shitty poker parties.

And yet. . . there were things I'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods out my dorm window, the Hudson River in the distance, the smell of pine trees. Id miss Grover, who'd been a good friend, even if he was a little fucked up. I worried how he'd survive next year without me.

I'd miss Latin class, too—Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days and his faith that I could do well.

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told me about this subject being life-and-death for me. I wasn't sure why, but I'd started to believe him.

The evening before my final, I got so frustrated I threw the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology across my dorm room. Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards. There was no way I was going to remember the difference between Chiron and Charon, or Polydictes and Polydeuces. And conjugating those Latin verbs? Fucking forget it.

I paced the room, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my shirt.

I remembered Mr. Brunner's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson. I took a deep breath. I picked up the mythology book.

I'd never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me some pointers. At least I could apologize for the big fat F I was about to score on his exam. I didn't want to leave Yancy Academy with him thinking I hadn't tried.

I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.

I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice that was definitely Grover's said ". . . worried about Percy, sir. "

I froze.

Shit.

I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking shit about you to an adult.

I inched closer.

". . . alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too—"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy to mature more. "

"But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline— "

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can. "

"Sir, he saw her. . . . "

"His imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that. "

"Sir, I . . . I can't fail in my duties again. " Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean. "

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now lets just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall—"

The mythology book dropped out of my hand and hit the floor with a thud.

Fuck.

Mr. Brunner went silent.

My heart hammering, I picked up the book and backed down the hall.

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archers bow.

I opened the nearest door and slipped inside.

A few seconds later I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like muffled wood blocks, then a sound like an animal snuffling right outside my door. A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, then moved on.

A bead of sweat trickled down my neck.

Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice. "

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn . . . "

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow. "

"Don't remind me. "

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.

I waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.

Finally, I slipped out into the hallway and made my way back up to the dorm.

Grover was lying on his bed, studying his Latin exam notes like he'd been there all night.

"Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You going to be ready for this test?"

I didn't answer.

"You look awful. " He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Just. . . tired. "

I turned so he couldn't read my expression, and started getting ready for bed.

I didn't understand what I'd heard downstairs. I wanted to believe I'd imagined the whole thing.

But one thing was clear: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about me behind my back. They thought I was in some kind of danger.

The next afternoon, as I was leaving the three-hour Latin exam, my eyes swimming with all the Greek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called me back inside.

For a moment, I was worried he'd found out about my eavesdropping the night before, but that didn't seem to be the problem.

"Percy," he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's . . . it's for the best. "

His tone was kind, but the words still embarrassed me. Even though he was speaking quietly, the other kids finishing the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit fucking smirked at me and made sarcastic little kissing motions with her lips.

I mumbled, "Okay, sir. "

"I mean . . . " Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time. "

My eyes stung.

Here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me I couldn't handle it. After saying he believed in me all year, now he was telling me I was destined to get kicked out.

"Right," I said, trembling.

"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say . . . you're not normal, Percy. That's nothing to be—"

"Thanks," I blurted. "Thanks a lot, sir, for fucking reminding me. "

"Percy—"

But I was already gone.

On the last day of the term, I shoved my clothes into my suitcase.

The other guys were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. They were juvenile delinquents, like me, but they were rich juvenile delinquents. Their daddies were executives, or ambassadors, or celebrities. I was a nobody, from a family of fucking nobodies.

They asked me what Id be doing this summer and I told them I was going back to the city.

What I didn't tell them was that I'd have to get a summer job walking dogs or selling magazine subscriptions, and spend my free time worrying about where I'd go to school in the fall.

"Oh," one of the guys said. "That's cool. "

They went back to their conversation as if I'd never existed.

The only person I dreaded saying good-bye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to. He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as I had, so there we were, together again, heading into the city.

During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers. It occurred to me that he'd always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if he expected something bad to happen. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased. But there was nobody to tease him on the Greyhound.

Finally I couldn't fucking stand it anymore.

I said, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha—what do you mean?"

I confessed about eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam.

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh . . . not much. What's the summer solstice dead-line?"

He winced. "Look, Percy . . . I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers . . . "

"Grover—"

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and . . . "

"Grover, you're a really, really bad fucking liar. "

His ears turned pink.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

The card was in fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes, but I finally made out something like:

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009

"What's Half—"

"Don't say it aloud!" he yelped. "That's my, um . . . summer address. "

My heart sank. Grover had a fucking summer home. I'd never considered that his family might be as rich as the others at Yancy.

"Okay," I said glumly. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion. "

He nodded. "Or . . . or if you need me. "

"Why the fuck would I need you?"

It came out harsher than I meant it to.

Grover blushed right down to his Adams apple. "Look, Percy, the truth is, I—I kind of have to protect you. "

I stared at him.

All year long, I'd gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. I'd lost sleep worrying that he'd get beaten up next year without me. And here he was acting like he was the one who fucking defended me.

"Grover," I said, "what exactly are you protecting me from?"

There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Grover and I filed outside with everybody else.

We were on a stretch of country road—no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really fucking good: heaping boxes of bloodred cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks Id ever seen.

I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right fucking at me.

I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.

"Grover?" I said. "Hey, man—"

"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?"

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all. "

The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors—gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.

"Were getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on. "

"What?" I said. "It's a thousand degrees in there. "

"Come on!" He pried open the door and climbed inside, but I stayed back.

Across the road, the old ladies were still watching me. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for—Sasquatch or Godzilla.

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The passengers cheered.

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"

Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the fucking flu.

Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

"Grover?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you not fucking telling me?"

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like . . . Mrs. Dodds, are they?"

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds. He said, "Just tell me what you saw. "

"The middle one took out her scissors, and she fucking cut the yarn. "

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something almost—older.

He said, "You saw her snip the cord. "

"Yeah. So?" But even as I said it, I knew it was a big deal.

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time. "

"What last time?"

"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth. "

"Grover," I said, because he was really starting to fucking scare me. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me. "

This seemed like a strange request to me, but I promised he could.

"Is this like a superstition or something?" I asked.

No answer.

"Grover—that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to fucking die?"

He looked at me mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I'd like best on my coffin.

Fuck.

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 1st, Tuesday 11:37

It was an odd feeling to walk through the hallways of his shool again, almost impossible to believe that it only had been a couple of weeks instead of month. Next week they even would have a couple of classes to attend again at school.

Jens took the stairs down, only one or two other students crossing his path on his way out. He never had seen the building this quiet and empty. At least not to his memory. It was pretty eerie.

Robbe and Moyo were already waiting outside by the gate, laughing about something when Jens crossed the school’s yard to join them on the pavement, immediately taking off his face mask. Finally. He was only just able to catch a glimpse of Luca sending his two friends a salute as she got on a bus.

„You made it.“ Robbe exclaimed proudly, the first to spot him coming closer, quickly followed by Moyo fist bumping him as he reached them

„Barely. I literally wrote the last sentence as the time was up. I couldn’t even proofread the thing.“

„You are not alone. Robbe had just told us that he gave up reading it over and over again halfway through, and just handed it in early. Same here, man. So if we fail, we fail as broerrrs. Together.“ Moyo finished his brief little speech, that didn’t really comforted Jens at all. They had been done with the test ten minutes earlier than him, he had seen them leave, while desperately writting his thoughts down. But at least it was well-intentioned, he guessed as all three of them sighed.

It wasn’t that Jens didn’t know French. He could understand and speak it just fine. It was just having to write and answer all these long ass texts in an awful short period of time that always killed him. So he probably would be fine in the end, wiggeling his way through well enough to pass. He hoped at least. Math on friday was a whole other beast to survive.

„I failed so hard.“ Aaron shouted whining from the courtyard of the school, as him and Lucas were on their way to meet them. Poor Aaron, Jens thought sympathetical, but still amused at the comical devastated face their friend made. And certainly he wasn’t alone, as the other two boys waiting next to Jens also grinned at Aaron stumbling over.

„Come on, it won’t be that bad.“ 

Moyo definitely had stepped up to be their motivational speaker today, trying to keep up the morale of the group. Even if he was quite shit at it to be honest.

„No it was super bad. Urgh. I don’t want to fail my last year.“ 

„You wont.“ His tone was rather matter of fact, as Jens caught Aaron’s gaze to sound and look as assuring as it was possible for him in that moment. At least it seemed to work a little, when Aaron nodded and even smiled gently, when Robbe patted his back lightly.

„That’s exactly what I told him as well.“ Lucas said, having also just written the German test with Aaron. Jens was so sure that his boyfriend must have aced it. He looked rather unbothered by the whole two weeks filled with tests ahead of them. Which probably stemmed from Lucas studying just as much, if not even more than them. Jens would know, sitting next to him at home, being easily distracted by everything, while his boyfriend miraculously managed to concentrate on his notes.

„So Geography tomorrow, huh?“ Moyo asked, recieving a positive nod from everyone in their little circle. Geography was managable. Jens wasn’t too worried.

„Oh fuck,  guys, we should probably go.“ Robbe had just taken his phone out to check for something, apparently the time, when he picked up his backpack from the ground between his feet.

„We? Who is we?“ Aaron looked confused between them, as did only Moyo, unaware that it answered his own question, while wondering if he had forgotten aboout something important.

„Sander has his photoshoot today, and Lucas here promised to model, if you remember four weeks ago at the park?“

„Oh right. What kind of photos? Skating?“ 

Aaron actually seemed interested asking for Jens to explain further, who of course had no idea either. Sander didn’t really give anything away on sunday, other than the time and place to meet. Which was some apartment of a fellow student from the academy, the three boys had been told, cuddling on the sofa. And that was kind of it. Jens believed that not even Lucas had much more information, other than the clothes he would be wearing. 

„It’s an editorial.“ His boyfriend provided, looking not quite convinced that he knew what he was talking about. So last but not least Robbe picked up from there.

„Basically their group is putting together a magazin this semester, one is doing texts, another layout, a third the cover and so on. And Sander takes the photos. He already did some studiowork for fake adverts and stuff last week. Today is a bit more fashion, a bit more...“

„Alright, that’s enough information.“ Moyo declared, stopping Robbe in his explanation, who did right away, not particular affronted by their friend’s dismissive tone. Still his best friend rolled his eyes at the tone Moyo had used. Sometimes this boy should learn to be a little less of an dick, Jens thought.

„We really need to leave anyway, so I guess we’ll see you tomorrow?“ Robbe said instead, followed by all of them bidding goodbye, promising to meet in front of the school at half past nine again.

„For sure!“ Aaron happily said, waving them goodbye, as the three boys turned to walk down the street, Lucas and Jens basically trusting Robbe to know where he was going. 

Jens wasn’t even sure, what he would be doing the whole time, as he only had agreed to come too, when Lucas had asked him, rather nervous about the whole thing. So he guessed he’d just sit around and watch the boys doing their stuff. Hopefully it wouldn’t take to long. Lotte needed to be picked up by five today.

They had crossed a couple of streets by now, school far behind them, and Jens found Lucas taking his hand. It was, he believed the first time they did outside of their houses. He smiled.

__ __ __

tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[andimlonely]

You Shine

BNHA; Denki Kaminari x f!reader | With finals approaching, your diligence is cranked up to the highest setting, but after rarely seeing you outside of class for a few days, Denki has to step in before you run yourself into the ground.

✿♦ Fluff and angst 

A/N: I was struggling with this one for awhile but I think I like how it turned out in the end. Listening to this: https://youtu.be/AGtKpeY6UqI really helped to inspire me, because it captures the feeling of the angsty moments well. Really, a lot of the angst I write will probably pair well with that song if it’s not super heavy. I hope you enjoy this one, and maybe even find some comfort in it if you can relate! 

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

“Heya, (y/n),” greets Kaminari as he strolls into your room casually, as he always does, clad in a black tank and grey track pants.

You lift your head and glance over your shoulder at him from your desk, noticing the dampness of his forehead and hair, “Hey, Denki. What’s up?”

“Nothin’ much. Kiri and I just got back from the gym. Can ya tell?”

It takes one glance at your blond friend’s silly pose, an attempt to flex all the muscle he purported to have, for you to chuckle, “Yeah, I can tell.”

He chuckles along with you, retorting that maybe he isn’t all muscular yet but he’ll get there, and dropping down onto your baby blue beanbag chair - and probably widening the small but worrisome ripped seam that you have yet to sew back up. 

While he makes himself comfortable, you continue to tap at your keyboard, then pause to read, then tap away again, a monotonous cycle that threatens to lull him into a boredom-induced nap. By now Denki is used to the sight, having learned of your diligence before he even got to know you personally. In fact, it was due to Aizawa’s praise towards the students with perfect scores on the first exam that he reached out to you in the first place. With Yaoyorozu overbooked for studying sessions, it was between you and Midoriya, and while he had nothing against his freckled classmate, he wasn’t going to choose him as a tutor when there was someone cute and just as capable available. 

But despite how accustomed he is to seeing you hunched over your desk, he’s no less dismayed. 

“Don’t tell me you’re still studying,” he groans, his head tossed back against the beanbag. 

The rhetorical nature of the question has you playfully rolling your eyes. “Should I even answer that? Besides, have you even started studying? Finals are next week.”

“It’s Monday! This week just started and you’re already worrying about the next one?”

He really won’t let this go. Exasperated, you drop your pen and swivel around so you can plead him to let you study.

“Denki,” you whine, “We’ve been over this. Cramming at the last minute isn’t a good idea, didn’t you learn that after the last math test?”

He cringes at the mention, raising his hands defensively, “Alright, alright. I’ll let you study, but you’re still playing games with us later. I’m not gonna let you ditch me for some homework.”

“Fine,” you sigh with exaggerated reluctance. Secretly, as exhausted by Denki’s refusal to let you work in peace you are, you’re endeared by how persistently he tries to give you a break. Taking a little time to go get food with your best friend, or watch a movie, or anything really, sounds especially fun right now. Almost fun enough to loosen your tight study schedule, almost.

It’s not as if you want to study, or that it’s some kind of recreational activity for you. Flicking endlessly through pages, straining your eyes scanning line upon line of text, and scrawling numbers and letters that become progressively less neat in your notebook are all pretty dreadful to you. But the prospect of being handed back an assignment marked with anything less than 90% possesses your body to keep at it. The weight of maintaining such a strict regimen might strain your shoulders, but the weight of failing or underperforming threatens to crush you. And as much as you want to let it every now and then, you sweep the idea aside by burying your nose into your work. 

With a reminder that you have a few hours until you have to report to Jirou’s room for some gaming, Kaminari dismisses his still mildly sweaty self for a much needed shower. 

----

You spent that night huddled between Jirou and Denki for a couple hours, immersed in the almost evenly matched brawling of Smash Ultimate and the tumultuous rollercoaster of a game that is Mario Kart, among other games. It felt nice to indulge in something fun for awhile, even more so surrounded by your friends, but before it went on for too long you excused yourself back to your room for the night. 

That was the last time Denki and Jirou had seen you outside of class not hunched over a book or your computer, or training furiously at the gym. Needless to say, your absence from the group activities, and spaces outside your room in general - besides meals - quickly grew worrisome. 

“Dude, I haven’t seen (y/n) out here like all week,” Kaminari frowns, “I get it’s finals almost, but she’s kinda pushing it, don’t you think?”

Jirou, after taking a drink from her water bottle, sits on the adjacent sofa. “Definitely. I tried dragging her out earlier but she was asleep at her desk.” 

“Damn, dude. All she does is homework and study. I’m getting kinda worried about her.”

You might be what Denki considers an overachiever, but he’s never seen you this determined, except maybe during practical exams and of course during the many villain encounters the class has endured. But as for school work, you’re never this obsessed.

“We should try talking to her or something,” Jirou suggests, sharing in the blond’s concern for you.

“She’s so stubborn though. I tell her to take it easy all the time, she just won’t have it.”

“That’s not what I meant. Of course she’s not gonna listen if you tell her to take a break. I meant ask her why she’s so stressed in the first place. Maybe something else is bothering her.”

For some reason, the idea that something besides compulsion and maybe a little masochism is fueling your tireless work hadn’t occurred to him before. 

Denki crosses his arms, “Ya think?”

It makes sense as he considers the idea. But what could be so compelling to keep you chained to your desk everyday? He isn’t sure, but he aims to find out.

----

You barely hear the knocking over the audio playing in your earbuds, the explanation of a scientific concept you find too abstract put on hold as you answer the door.

“Denki. You knocked,” you say, eyebrows hovering far above your eyes.

Your eyes. You look so tired. Denki is struck by the darkness encircling your usually bright (e/c) irises, now swimming with tired determination.

“I know,” he replies, his hand stroking the back of his head as he steps into your room, “I dunno why.”

The curtains are loose, completely shielding your room from any light that could spill in from the night sky, though it could surely use some; your table lamp is the only source of light in the dimly lit room. In the dark he can still make out the clothes and few other items littering the floor around you, probably accumulating from all the time you sank into your studies this week.

“I assume you’re here to tell me I need a break, but I already took one. I watched youtube for an hour or so,” you inform him, a tired smile on your lips.

His smile is weak, and you notice it. “Not bad.”

He’s too quiet. 

“What’s wrong?”

A nervous chuckle falls from his lips, “Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Then.. Why are you so quiet?”

The only times Denki ever acted this strange were after brushes with villains, and that time he was feeling insecure about his critical thinking on the field, so you know better than to believe nothing is bothering him. 

“Ah.. guess I’m just tired. Aren’t you?”

“A little,” you confess, your fingers tugging at the hem of your t-shirt. “But I can’t stop now. I’ve gotten a lot done, but I still have lots to finish.”

“Dude,” your friend whines, and you sigh, already ready to protest his insistence that you’re pushing yourself too far. “I know you don’t wanna hear this, (y/n), but you really need to take a break. We haven’t even seen you out of your room since the other day, except for dinner.” 

“Denki, I don’t have time for this..”

“I’m serious, (y/n). We’re getting worried about you. Not even just me and Jirou, but the others too.”

“Worried? I’m fine.” 

Even you don’t sound so sure, your stare locked on anything that isn’t Denki. 

He drags a hand down his face, groaning once again. Maybe his pestering is annoying, but enough is enough. He would rather risk you hating him for a little while than let you run yourself into the ground like you’ve been. 

“(y/n), look. I get you’re driven and all, but it’s okay to take a break, you know?,”

“No, Denki, it’s not okay! It’s not chill, or cool, or fine! I have to pass - no, I have to ace these tests!” 

Your outburst has him taken aback, and he places a hand on your shoulder, eyes like honey saturated with sincerity.

“Hey, hey. (y/n). They’re just tests, relax.” 

“Relax”..? The word alone has you flying into a fit of rage. How could he possibly expect you to just relax, as if it’s easy, as if you can erase the glaring red numbers that flash through your mind any time your hands aren’t busy. As if the imaginary anvil hanging over your head will just disappear if you pretend it isn’t there. As if you can even dig yourself out of the mounds of paper you’re swimming in in the first place. 

“They’re not, though! Why aren’t you getting that?! Maybe you don’t feel an urgency to do well, but I do, why is that wrong?”

Denki has never seen you this distressed before, and he only grows more alarmed by the way your eyes grow glassier every time you speak. 

“It’s not wrong, (y/n).. But obsessing about it like this is. It’s not like you’re anywhere close to failing your classes, so why is this freaking you out so much?”

“Because it’s the only thing I have! If I don’t do well academically then --” 

Before the rest can escape, you cut yourself off, halting the flood of words that threaten to break through your lips. Your wrap your arms around yourself, your fingers pressing firmly into your arms.

But Denki can’t forget what you’ve said. He has to know. Why are you so desperate to prepare for these finals?

Rather than try to make you look him in the eye, he steps into your line of sight again, urging you to finish your thought. 

“Then what..?” 

Half of your face is illuminated by the glow of your lamp and computer, a gleaming droplet rolling down the slope of your cheek. Your breaths stutter faintly. The silence feels thick, so gripping in the absence of your raised voice from just moments ago. The room’s energy might have diminished but the weight of your emotion clings to the air.

“T-then I.. don’t stand out at all,” you murmur, all the defensiveness from before drained from your voice.

‘(y/n)...’

His hand is raised as if reaching weakly out to you, but you turn your back to him.

“What are you talking about?..” 

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

“My quirk isn’t really exciting, and my field work is fine but it’s not outstanding.. If I can’t ace every test, then there’s nothing exceptional about me at all. I’m just.. mediocre without my academics.” 

And you struggle to even stand out then. Yaoyorozu, Iida, Deku.. even Bakugou. All of them are just as, maybe even more, focused on their grades and just as often share in your tendency to receive high marks. It’s not as if you want them to fail; you even admire their intelligence and diligence, but sometimes, sometimes it seems so unfair. They already have such amazing quirks, make such an impression whether they’re participating in something controlled like the Sports Festival or finding creative ways to elude villains. They already seem like heroes. Why can’t you have just one moment to feel that capable, even if your moment is confined to the classroom?

“(y/n).. Hey, that’s not true. You’ve got it all wrong. There’s tons of stuff about you that stands out.”

By now your shoulders are shaking, every drop of frustration and exhaustion you locked away to be able to focus on your studies over the week seeping out of you at once. 

“Like what, that I’m the least interesting student in the class?” 

Denki’s chest stirs with a guilt-like feeling. How could you think this way? How could all this fear and insecurity you’ve been carrying have slipped past him? Quirk aside, he isn’t the brightest, but he thought he at least knew you well enough to notice when something is wrong.

He moves in front of you, and seeing you have your head lowered, he crouches before you so his face is in sight.

“No. Like how great you are at thinking on your feet. And how much you trust other people, instead of just taking the reigns every time you’re working with them. And all the creative ways you use your quirk. I’d never be able to think up stuff like that if I were you. Hell, I couldn’t even think of a way around the obstacles of my quirk without some help.”

“But.. what if my quirk just isn’t special enough?..”

“Hey. I get it. Sometimes it can feel like the rest of us fade into the background when you look at people like Bakugou or Todoroki. They seem like they’re lightyears away from us sometimes, and it can be kind of a downer. But just look at all the times relying on their quirk wasn’t even enough.”

“Yeah.. I guess so.”

He continues.

“I mean, yeah, quirks are pretty important, and powerful ones get all the attention. But if the only thing you have going for you is your quirk, I dunno, I doubt you’re gonna get very far. Don’t you think? I mean maybe if I was as smart as you I’d have a lot more brain cells left after using my quirk for a long period of time,” he jokes, tender smile deepening when you crack a laugh of your own.

“I guess I’m trying to say.. Your quirk is just as cool as anyone else’s, but it only is because you made it that way. You don��t have to ace every test to stand out, because you already shine without that. But it’s not like you even have to try that hard to do well, right? So just.. Keep being you.”

“I.. shine?”

“Even without your quirk, or your good grades,” he nods, rising to his feet, “You’re already awesome without all that.”

Without warning, your arms are wrapped tightly around him, your face buried into his shoulder, dampening his shirt somewhat as the tears you were suppressing flow free - not that he cares. You could blow your nose with this shirt and he wouldn’t mind if it meant he got to feel you like this. With the arm not trapped in your embrace, he squeezes you closer.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re kinda cute when you’re mad anyway,” he grins, half expecting you to shoot him a playful glare, but you stay nestled in the fabric of his t-shirt instead. “So you promise you’re gonna slow down?”

You can’t remember the last time you felt this calm. You don’t want to let him go, not any time soon. Despite how close you’ve become, you had never hugged Denki for this long, but now, as he sways you lightly right to left, you can’t imagine going long without it. 

“I’ll try,” you nod, face flushed as you come down from your emotional high, “Could we maybe.. watch a movie together? I’m tired of studying for tonight.”

“‘Course. I’ll get my laptop, it’s bigger.”

[loveau]

You + Me = ? | Wendy

Genre: highschool!au, fluff

Word Count: 2,989

Request: Hi, there! 😁 May I request a high school!AU scenario with Wendy where the reader needs help with math and she becomes the reader’s tutor, then the reader improves in math and they fall in love and all that fluffy stuff?

Summary: While your math grade seems to be falling, it’s not the only thing that does once a pretty math tutor comes in to help you. You can only hope she’s there to catch you like she’s doing for your grade.

You curse at the dumb equations staring mockingly at you from your paper. Stupid algebra, stupid factoring, stupid polynomials. Nothing was sticking in your brain, and, at this point, it was pretty much fried. You bang your head on the desk and groan into the multiple eraser markings sticking on your cheek.

Yeah, you totally shouldn’t have convinced the counselor to let you take that extra elective instead of the math class. The entire year’s worth of not doing math had been both a blessing... and a curse. You sat in a class of mostly sophomores as the only junior taking that algebra course. It stung your pride to sit there staring at a low mark as they seemed to be passing with ease. 

The only other junior in the class was the TA, and she stops by with a concerned look. However, one glance at your half done worksheet (with most of the answers wrong, by the way) she concludes that you’re frustrated and need help.

“Hey,” she calls. At this you put your head up and come face to face with her. “Do you need help with this? I can tutor you after school if you’d like to get help outside of class.”

“Oh my gosh, really, Wendy?! You’re literally an angel!” She smiles at you, only proving further to you that she not only acts like an angel, but she looks very much like one too.

She waves you off dismissively, but the red in her cheeks shows that she appreciates the comment. One look at your paper shows her that you really were in need of the help. No offense, of course, but the factoring you had done so far somehow led you to completely get rid of the variables. While this led to much confusion on her part where to begin, she was amused by your doodles on the page.

“You draw?” You peer down to see what she’s referring to. There’s small little sketches of your favorite characters from some show you were currently watching. A slight flush of embarrassment moves across your cheeks, as if it were a crime to like your shows. However, you just shrug to play it off cool.

“Kind of... I usually do this when I’m bored.” You realize that you’ve just admitted one of the reasons why you are behind in class. Wendy only reassures you with a smile, deciding not to point that out if she caught it at all.

She tries to help you as much as she can before the period’s over. You’re much too distracted by the curve of her bangs over her forehead and wonder how she must have done it. Done what? You know... looking so effortlessly stunning. You’re well aware of how she uses a hair curler in her bangs sometimes. You’ve seen it at lunch a couple times when she’s laughing loudly with her friends, but you could never bring yourself to look away.

About to be caught again, you quickly busy yourself with whatever problem you left off on. Wendy watches you for a couple more moments before deciding that she should start packing up and taking some last minute questions. You’re scribbling down the answers to the next couple of questions and she makes a mental note to check in with you later. In the mean time, she hopes you don’t mistake her number she wrote on the corner of your page for some polynomial without variables.

Luckily you caught it fairly quickly before the school day ended, when you had decided to continue your doodling on a previous sheet. And just like that, you were meeting Wendy after school to go over your homework that you had completed in class. Nerves began building up inside of you. Both at the idea of seeing Wendy again, but also... her relation to your math class reminded you of an upcoming test. As well as your low grade. It wasn’t that bad per se, but it wasn’t exactly ideal. You were bordering from a C+ to a B- and you knew you’d be in for it if your parents saw that as a final grade. 

Your leg bounces as you wait by one of the lunch tables, and it distracts you so much that you miss the text from Wendy that she’s on her way and should only be another minute. By the time you’ve formulated your runaway plan and to make sure your FBI agent can’t track you down when you fail your next test, Wendy arrives with a chipper smile and taking a seat right next to you. Immediately her smiles drops at your worried face.

“Hey, are you alright? We don’t have to be meeting up right now if you don’t want to.”

“No! You’re fine.” Her concerned eyes don’t stop trying to figure out what’s eating you until it clicks.

“You’re worried about next week’s test, right?” You nod and Wendy pats your shoulder. However, she doesn’t take her hand away and instead squeezes your shoulder so that you feel the warmth through your shirt. You’re not that surprised to find that warmth has spread all throughout your body as well. “I can totally help you with that! I often see you looking frustrated in class but didn’t want to pester you. I figured today wouldn’t hurt.”

You shake your head and find that you were grateful she stepped up today. You could never with how preoccupied you were with trying to reteach yourself concepts as well as her being almost intimidatingly pretty. If it wasn’t obvious, your crush on her really made you freeze up. You remember developing your crush on her in your sophomore year, when the two of you shared a literature class together. The two of you got to interact some, but not much. What stood out to you was the reenactment of Romeo and Juliet where she played Romeo and you read the part of Juliet. Her character building and voice somehow made you feel as if you were really Juliet, easily swooning by her love confessions. You really began to daydream that they were real... and in modern english.

“If I bomb this next test, then I’m easily set to get a solid C instead of a C+. I have almost an 81 in the class, but just barely.”

Wendy hums and fixes her ponytail to stall while she thinks. Suddenly she brightens up and snaps her fingers. “Have you thought about doing the extra credit? It could definitely bring your grade up to an 85 at least! It can act as a safety net in case you do poorly on the test, but I won’t let that happen!”

“How so?” She takes your hands into hers and looks you earnestly in the eyes.

“Starting today, I will tutor you everyday to make sure you feel prepared and confident for the test. It doesn’t have to be just after school either. We can meet at lunch, during class, before school, or any time we can work it out. I promise you I will be there for you so that you don’t fail.” Your heart beats a little quicker at her promise, but the intensity also adds butterflies to your stomach. You can only nod in response and realize you’ve been holding your breath by the time she turns around to get some papers out. “Here, I keep these on me in case anyone approaches me outside of class for help. These are some of the extra credit sheets that’ll help you. They also pertain to the test so it’s a double whammy.”

She helps you get started on the sheets, telling you they’re honestly easy points to boost your grade. They really are with how much time Wendy spends talking you through the concept and making sure you’re not iffy on a problem. It’s like this the rest of the week. However, you also realize she’s been super affectionate once you get a problem right or giving herself whatever excuse to get as close as possible.

Sometimes her pencil might roll away from her as you work and she allows it to roll far enough so that it hits you. She either brushes her fingers against your hand or arm or she purposely touches her fingers loosely against yours if you happen to pick it up before she does. Some comments or corrections she makes on your paper also come in the form of hearts. It’s hard for you to keep your cool when she is being playfully flirty with you, but it also saddens you that it’ll most likely no longer happen once the week is over and you’ve taken your test.

“Here,” she interrupts during your last session on Friday. The two of you are sitting together at lunch and she decides to write down some problems for you to practice.

“Wendy, this is basic math. I did this in, like, second grade.”

“I just want to warm up your brain. Go ahead!” You look back down at the 2+2 written on the paper. Once you write down a hesitant 4, Wendy adds more simple math problems to your paper. The lunch bell rings signaling that you get to your next class. “Make sure to do the last one! I’ll see you next Monday on test day. Oh! And make sure to text me on the weekend if you have any questions.”

You’re too busy packing up to see what she’s written on your paper, but you assume it was something like 1+1. You figure that she must be doing this to reassure you and give you a slight break since all you’ve been doing is working on factoring for the past couple of days. By the time you get into your history class, a friend of yours points to the paper on the top of your notebook.

“How’s it going with Miss-I’m-too-pretty-to-make-you-function?”

“Shut up, it’s not like I’ll be seeing her after the test. She’s just tutoring me.”

“But you said the touches-”

“I’m overthinking it. It’s fine.” They roll their eyes at your dismissiveness. You’d been trying to swallow down the crush over the past couple of days, but Wendy honestly made it too hard. Her subtle touches and words of encouragement did nothing but make you hopeful. It also didn’t help that her bright smile plagued your mind whenever you went home and you were... looking forward to going to your math class.

“Hey, I think you’re overthinking the part where you think you have no chance.”

“That’s because I don’t.” They tap your paper and say otherwise. You’re unable to question them since they turn away to focus on the teacher beginning the lesson. You try to focus on the material about some revolution somewhere, but you can only focus on running through equations, the quadratic formula, perfect squares, and Wendy in your mind.

She stays on your mind the entire weekend as well, and you’re worried about the material even though you’ve run through it so many times you can practically do it in your sleep. On test day, you’re so focused on your work that you can’t even bring yourself to look at Wendy in fear of all your work together going to waste or seeing her be disappointed. But her quick squeeze of your hand as she passes by while handing out the tests lets you know that she’s rooting for you. She doesn’t mention the last problem she wrote down for you on that Friday. You don’t mention it either because you forgot.

It feels like time flies by so quickly, and you practically run up to the front desk to turn in your test. You’re unsure how to feel about it and wring your hands nervously. Wendy gives you a thumbs up with a determined look while mouthing “You did it. You made it through.” The gleam in her eyes sets your heart fluttering with all the confidence she has in you. It makes you disappointed that soon the two of you would part ways just like you had after the brief interaction during your Romeo and Juliet reading. However, Wendy makes sure to continuously check in with you about the material of the test to see what you thought of it. 

The day you get your test back, Wendy looks just as nervous as you. It’s been only two days since the test, and your teacher has graded the test faster than normal. You look at Wendy while your hands are balled up into fists on the top of your desk. She’s biting her lip and you can she her feet are kicking at the floor in anticipation. It looks like she’s running while sitting, and you wish you could do just that. Run. The teacher has her pass the tests back while they begin writing up some commonly missed questions. Before they could, they call for Wendy’s attention right before she reached your row of desks.

“Wendy, could you pass me one of the tests? I can’t find my answer key.” She nods and immediately hands one of the tests over. Once she’s finished passing out the tests you realize whose test is up with the teacher. Ah, how fickle fate seems to be with you. Wendy realizes that she’s passed your test up when she looks over at you and your anxious form trying your best to peer at the front of the paper by the board. She hadn’t seen your score either, which makes her just as anxious as you. From where you were, you couldn’t figure out what red marks meant what on your test.

The rest of the period was spent with you writing down all the right answers on your test just in case you got something wrong and you could figure out why, hopefully with Wendy’s help. Throughout the class, the two of you had been communicating with nervous looks while trying to put each other at ease at the same time. It didn’t work for both of you since you had started biting your nails and she was picking at threads of her sweater. You absolutely hate that the test review spent the entire period. Especially the fact that the teacher asked to see you when the class ended. Dread fills you when you hear the bell ring. Your footsteps seem heavier as you walk up to the front desk.

Wendy wanted to hang back, she really did, but she knew that it’d be better to respect your privacy and head out with the students. She waits for you to come out and you find her tapping her foot to a song in the middle of the hall. The second you spot her you squeal and throw your arms around her.

“Oh my gosh, Wendy!”

“What’d you get? How did you do? Are you okay? I’m so nervous, I didn’t even know it was your test!”

You shake your head and show her the test. You got nearly full marks, some rounding errors or accidentally using the wrong amount of sigfigs cost you a couple points, but not enough to bring it lower than an A.

“I can’t believe you practically saved my grade!” You’re jumping now and she’s still in your arms. It’s not a problem since she’s also jumping along with you with a large smile on her face. You pull away with a frown.

“What’s wrong now? Did your grade not rise enough to where you thought it was?” There’s panic in her voice and you’re quick to deny her question, but a pout remains on your lips.

“I won’t get to hang out with you anymore since I won’t need any more tutoring...” Wendy pauses for a second and looks as if she’s trying to find something in your eyes.

“... Did you see the last problem I gave you on Friday?” You think back on it and return her questioning gaze.

“You gave me basic addition. Are you telling me I need to work on what I learned in elementary school?” She shakes her head quickly and asks if you still have the paper, to which you nod your head since you haven’t cleaned your binder yet. She has you take it out and you’re about to tell her you’re not that bad at math until you see the problem she wrote.

Underneath the 2+2, 4+4, 3+7, and 1+9...

You + Me = ?

You look up at her and she smiles, but it’s wavering. She’s nervous about your reaction, but she’s somewhat relieved. She thought you had seen it and decided to ignore it, thinking she was weird or that you were trying not to be mean by rejecting that.

“What... Wendy, does this mean what I think it does?” Wendy puts on an air of fake confidence and takes a pencil out.

“Well, it’s simple really. You, that’s you, plus me, Wendy, equals...” She trails off and begins to write on the paper. A little drawing of a heart takes place at the end of the equation and you can only look at her in shock. She decides that it’s now or never to explain what it meant. “I was just... too nervous to approach you since I didn’t want to scare you away thinking I was there to bug you about getting help. I thought you were really cute at the beginning of the year, and after I finally got to talk to you I started developing a crush... I really worked the courage up to write that.”

You look back down at the heart and can’t help but smile at her. Wendy smiles hesitantly in confusion. 

“You know, since it took me that long to solve such a simple problem... I think you’ll have to continue tutoring me. Why don’t we set up another study date to work on it!” 

[ohshit-itsyagorl]

Four Dipshits and a Michelle

Part 1 

Hey, Loves! This is a fanfiction I’ve been working on recently. Hope you like it!

Summary: Michelle never believed in soulmates. But what happens when she turns seventeen and gets her mark? What happens when she inevitably finds the person with the matching tattoo? And what is she supposed to do with Peter Parker. Her best friend in the whole world. Her crush. Someone she feels drawn to for some inexplicable reason.

Michelle Jones never understood the infatuation human society had with soulmates.

As a little girl full of hopes and dreams, she admits she was rather fond of the idea: someone out there who was perfect for her, someone who she could share her life with, her soul-bonded partner.

Until her mom got sick. And her dad started treating his wife like his own personal punching bag and then left them with barley enough money to get by. And that sucked, but Michelle could deal with it. She really could.

(But she was not okay.)

But after that initial honeymoon phase, after seeing a relationship that was supposedly written in the cosmos fall apart, she was wrenched back to a sad, logical reality.

After giving up on her soulmate, she found it grating how often it came up in seemingly normal discussion.

This, Michelle thought, was rather ridiculous, considering they were all freshman in high school, and wouldn’t be turning 17 for at least two years, three for most of them.

When she woke up on the morning of February 27th, she was not expecting the day to be anything special or different.

Trudging to the bathroom, half asleep with hair in her mouth, she thought she might pass out. Damn her for opting to take the PCB (physics, then chemistry, then biology) route instead of being normal like almost every other kid at Midtown Tech.

The only bonus to PCB was that she had the same kids in her science class every year. Betty and Cindy and Ned and Peter. The only downside was Flash, who was insufferable on the very best of days. He was also on the PCB track.

(Ugh.)

Point was, Michelle had stayed up super late the previous night studying for a massive test with Peter and Ned, and she was absolutely exhausted.

(Physics could be a bitch sometimes.)

“Hey, Sweetie, how did you sleep?” Her mom was laying on the couch, nose shoved into her book, right arm hooked up to an IV. When Michelle didn’t answer immediately, she looked up and let out a soft oh. “Rough night?” She asked.

Michelle sighed. “Yeah. Big test today. Studied with the losers last night.”

“Well, good luck, honey.” MJ started walking toward the door. “Oh, and, Michelle? Don’t call your friends losers.”

Michelle ran a hand through her hair, the chocolate curls a tangled mess perched atop her head.

————————————————————

“Hey, MJ.” Michelle looked up to see Peter waving at her, toothy grin and glasses and a dark blue sweater. She narrowed her eyes, shaking her head. Too early, Idiot.

Physics went as well as could be expected. Lunch was a different story.

“I can’t wait,” Betty said dreamily. “I wonder what they’ll look like.”

“I wonder what my soulmark will be,” Ned said, looking up from his English notes. “With my luck, it’ll be worse than that senior with a foot tattooed down the right side of his face.”

Michelle snorted. “Yeah, maybe it’ll be a giant dick or something.”

“Maybe yours’ll be a unicorn, MJ. You know, to match your personality,” Ned fired back.

She stiffened, looking around at the group. ‘‘I don’t want a soulmate,” she muttered.

“What? Why not?” Cindy exclaimed, her eyes almost comically wide.

Peter looked up at that. His glasses had fallen down his nose considerably, and he shoved them back up his face. Dork.

Michelle shrugged. “I just don’t. They’re pointless.”

“Well,” Peter started, “maybe one day you’ll change your mind.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not likely, Parker.”

“Tell that to your soul-bonded partner.”

A soft chorus of oohs echoed from the Table around her. She needed new friends.

“Whatever. Even if I find my soulmate, I’ll just avoid them like the plague. Shouldn’t be that hard with all my practice when it comes to you lot.”

Peter let out a small uh-huh, and went back to whatever the hell it was he was doing.

It wasn’t like she and Peter didn’t argue. As best friends, it was kind of part of the job description. But Peter and Ned already knew how she felt about soulmates and soulmarks. Michelle was surprised he had pushed her on that front. Weird.

She cleared her throat.

—————————————————————

Sophomore year rolled around, and with it came Academic Decathlon. Michelle befriended Liz almost immediately. She was so nice, and perfect, and smart.

About halfway through the year after a field trip for AcaDec, Peter missed school for over a week. Something about catching a bug on the trip. On day 10, Michelle went to his apartment.

May opened the door. “Oh, hey, MJ! Peter is in his room. He’ll be glad to see you,” she said, a smile gracing her face.

Michelle walked past May with a small nod of acknowledgement. When she entered Peter’s room, she was fairly surprised to see that he, in fact, did actually look very sick. He was on the floor covered in sweat and shaking.

“Ohmigod, Peter! Are you okay?”

“Oh, MJ. Didn’t know you cared. How sweet of you,” he managed through chattering teeth.

“I don’t, Loser. Here,” Michelle leaned down, “let me help you to your bed.”

“No!” Peter scrambled backward over a pile of schoolwork, the pages sticking to his hands. The sweat, probably, thought Michelle

She quirked an eyebrow.

“I, uh—I don’t want to get you sick, is all,” he explained.

“Whatever, Loser,” she said. “I brought you your schoolwork, so… here you go.” She dropped the stack onto his unoccupied bed, spared Peter one more glance, shrugged, and turned to walk out of the room.

“MJ, wait. Thank you, for, uh, for the schoolwork.”

She flipped him off on the way out the door. Weirdo.

Peter started changing after that. He started filling out his shirts more. She figured he had started working out or something.

Not that she was looking at him. Because she wasn’t.

He no longer wore glasses, and dropped out of marching band and robotics club. He disappeared at nationals, showing up only for the ride home after the fiasco at the Washington Monument (of all the times to gain a rebellious streak AcaDec nationals was not the time or the place). Michelle glared at him nonstop for a week after that.

People started avoiding the topic of soulmates and soulmarks around her, knowing it was a touchy subject.

Over the course of the year, Michelle grew closer to Peter and Ned than the other kids in Acadec.

—————————————————————

“MJ?” Peter looked back at her from where he was squatting down in front of the DVD player. He was wearing sweats and a math pun t-shirt that stretched tightly across his chest. His arms across his legs were lithe and muscled. How had she never noticed before…

And she was staring. Michelle blushed furiously. Peter smirked. She flipped him off. He chuckled.

“What do you want?” She asked. His hair was gelled back like every day, but it was a bit mussed, falling onto his forehead. Her blood heated. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, wondered how soft it would be.

Peter ran a hand through said hair, biting his lip. “Have you—uh—have you ever seen The Princess Bride?” He asked.

MJ rolled her eyes. This boy. “Bits and pieces. I was never really interested in that mushy, gushy, sappy shit. Besides, we are not watching that.”

“Uh, yeah, we are. It’s simply tragic how your previous social circle failed you,” he said, scrunching his nose up. It was cute annoying.

Michelle squinted at him, mouth becoming a thin line. He smiled back innocently. She flipped him off. Again.

She relented in the end.

Peter hopped up next to where she was sitting, stretching his arms up and over the back of the couch. Michelles’s eyes snagged on the bit of exposed skin where his shirt had ridden up. Were those… abs? She shook her head, looking back toward the now-glowing TV screen. Her nerdy best friend Peter Parker could not have abs. But.

Michelle had to admit that the movie wasn’t actually as bad as she had initially thought. The reason for that was mostly Peter. The absolute dweeb was acting out the fight scenes with himself. Watching Peter try and punch and defend himself at the same time was pretty funny.

MJ looked over at Peter during the end of the movie. He was looking at her.

“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” He blurted, then proceeded to clap a hand over his mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. You really, uh, really don’t have to answer that.”

And maybe it was the laughter they had shared together. Maybe it was the way she felt safe around him, or how his hair curled behind his ears, but, “My parents were soulmates. It—it didn’t work out."

That was all she was willing to share.

Peter nodded, swallowing thickly and looking back to the movie. “I think Ned’s right,” he said. Michelle raised an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat, “Your soulmark is definitely going to be a unicorn. Or a pegasus. Or a rainb—”

“Shut up, Parker.”

Peter raised his hands defensively, grinning.

They talked for another hour, but Peter couldn’t seem to drop the conversation about soulmates.

“Hey, MJ?” He said, giving her a curious look.

Michelle hummed.

Peter ran a hand through his hair. With all the posing while acting out the movie, it looked like he had just gotten out of bed. Maybe even just had—

No. Best friend. Peter was her best friend. Nothing more.

“On your birthday,” he ventured, “when you get your mark, will you tell me about it? We could, like, make fun of each other’s or something. Once I get mine, that is.”

Michelle hesitated. Then: “Sure, okay. Yeah, that sounds good.”

Peter beamed at her and her heart did a backflip. It was worth talking about her soulmark to see that smile, different from his usually timid upturned lips. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Awesome! What are best friends for if not to make fun of shit,” he said.

Best friend. The words stung a bit, even if they were true.

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

Junior year came faster than any of them expected, and with it, standardized testing. Michelle was sad that Liz had moved away the year prior when her dad was caught selling alien technology illegally, but she was excited to be team captain this year. She, Peter, and Ned had all celebrated with aLord of the Rings movie marathon, but over the past few months, Peter and Ned had been sharing hushed conversations. MJ wasn’t sure what was going on, but it made her feel kind of shitty—like she was being pushed out of their friend group.

But then Peter would shoot her a shy smile, and she would feel a little better. There was definitely something going on, though.

Betty got her mark over the summer—a small cat’s eye in the palm of her left hand—but she had had no luck finding the person with the matching tattoo, much to her chagrin.

Michelle truly felt like she was rocketing toward her birthday. Somehow, she and Peter had found a way to turn her soulmate into a bit of a joke, which helped. A little.

That’s how Michelle found herself on the phone with Peter, wearing a tank top and shorts in the middle of winter, watching the seconds tick down to midnight.

“I’m so excited,” Peter said over the phone. “I can’t wait to see if it’s a unicorn or a pegasus.”

“Can it, Parker,” Michelle snapped. She was strangely terrified, though she wasn’t sure why.

“Okay, Magic Princess Unicorn—”

“I mean it, Pete.”

“Ten seconds, MJ.”

“Shit,” she whispered, hands shaking as she hastily put Peter on speaker, and set down the phone, turning to face the floor-length mirror.

“Do you see anything?” He asked. Did he sound… nervous?

Michelle scanned her arms and legs in the mirror, turned around and did the same on the back. “Fuck.”

“What?” Peter said, voice crackling over the phone. “What is it? Is it a Unicorn?”

“No,” Michelle gasped out. “I don’t see anything.”

It was true she didn’t want anything to do with her soulmate, but it did hurt that she didn’t even have one.

She let out a sob, then slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

“MJ—MJ, calm down. It’s probably just somewhere else. Try taking your clothes off.” Michelle felt her toes curl into the carpet, her breath hitched. “Fuck,” Peter said. “I didn’t mean it like that—fuck, that came out wrong.”

You don’t need to apologize, Michelle thought. Instead, she nodded, then, realizing he couldn’t see her over the phone, she cleared her throat and said, “No, I get it—what you meant, I mean.” She cringed, Christ, she was absolutely horrible at this. “God, I hope it’s not on my ass.”

Peter let out a bark of laughter. Michelle smiled, then remembered her situation, frowned.

“Stop frowning, you’ll get premature wrinkles,” Peter said.

Michelle frowned deeper. “How do you know I’m frowning?”

“I know you, MJ. Now stop frowning. There’s only one way to know if you have a tattoo on your ass,” Peter said, choking on the last word. “Just check.”

Michelle loosed a breath. “Okay. I guess you’re right.”

She turned back toward the mirror, reaching for the waistband of her shorts and underwear, pulling them both down at the same time. Nothing on the front. She shimmied around a bit, before giving in and stepping out of her shorts. She glanced over her shoulder into the mirror. Nothing.

She took off her tank top next, checking her back first, since she was already facing in that direction. Still nothing. She turned around and ran her fingers over her stomach. Nothing there, either. Goddammit.

She slowly reached back to unclasp her bra and let it slide down her arms. “Mother fucker,” she said quietly.

She’s not sure how, but Peter heard her. “MJ? What’s the status? Did you find it?”

“Yeah, I did. And I fucking hate the universe.” She hissed.

Peter laughed nervously. “Well, what is it? Where is it?”

“Like hell I’m telling you!” MJ screeched.

“C’mon, Michelle, we had a deal!” Peter said. She could picture him laying down in bed, then sitting up abruptly, hair mussed like that night they had watched The Princess bride together. And that strip of skin she’d glimpsed and—fuck, she was thinking about him while she was naked.

“Peter, I literally had to take all my clothes off just to find it. I am not telling you about this ever. God, this is so humiliating.” Michelle looked in the mirror again and winced. Staring back a her was her naked body, dark skin gleaming in the moonlight, curls coming down over her breasts. She moved her hair out of the way to get a better look at her mark, and… there it was. A fist-size black spider sitting in the middle of her left breast, right over her nipple. She groaned, burying her face in the crook of her elbow.

“Oh, c’mon, M. It can’t be that bad,” Peter said.

“It’s bad, Pete,” Michelle sighed. “Well, at least this way my soulmate won’t be able to see my mark.”

Michelle stroked a finger over one of the spider’s legs and shivered. Peter swore over the phone.

“What?” Michelle asked.

“Nothing,” Peter said, though his voice was shaky. “Just got a shiver. That’s what I get for not wearing a shirt.

This boy.

And now she was picturing him shirtless. Fuck. With that mussed-up hair. Double-fuck. She looked down to find that the hand near her breast had grabbed on, kneading the soft flesh. Holy mother of god, an infinite amount of fucks. But it felt good. Really good. She let out a quiet moan.

“MJ? What’s going on, are you okay?” How the ever-living hell did Peter keep hearing her? She could barely hear herself.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she managed. Thankfully she sounded normal, if not a little breathy. “Just a little messed up after seeing the mark, you know? I wasn’t expecting to feel so… attached to it.” Because that’s what it was, she realized. She could already feel her connection to someone else, and she hated herself for loving it, for craving that sensation to be stronger.

“Okay. We should probably both go to sleep anyway,” Peter said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” He sounded worried, but he was willing to give her space. That was one of the things she valued most about their friendship.

“Yeah,” Michelle said. Then, when she heard him start to shift, presumably on his bed (God help her), she interrupted, “and, Peter?” He hummed in response. “Put a shirt on. It’s cold out.”

He grunted. “Yeah, will do, M.”

Somehow Michelle got the feeling he wasn’t going to put on a shirt. Idiot.

Part 2