#me: doing my homeworks like the exemplary student i am

[private-kitty]

✨Hogwarts Legacy✨ fandom, i need your light.

Tell me if i am right into your "imagine" stuff

If i am correct, when you imagine a situation with Sebastian and Ominis, what i read is:

You always imagine Mc and Sebastian arguing and fighting and Ominis is the one who is comforting Mc.

Sebastian is swearing and Ominis is always polite.

Sebastian is a bad student who doesn't understand a thing and doesn't do his homework and Ominis is an exemplary person that says that Sebastian is an idiot all the time.

Ominis is kind and Sebastian is rough

Sebastian talk badly about others and Ominis doesn't like that

Sebastian is jealous and Ominis doesn't really care because he trusts you.

Sebastian is a dirty talker and Ominis is a sweetheart in bed

Basically, Sebastian is a red flag and Ominis a green

one

And blablabla and blablabla

Am i right ?

Well, let me introduce myself, i am the one who always see in people what other has missed and i like to establish the truth about a lot of characters. And today, my dears, you are the target.

And do not come to me like "this is just an imagine, we do what we want blablabla" because no. I am talking for everyone who doesn't feel right reading this stuff about their favourite characters because it is NOT them. We do not recognise their behaviour or their talks. Actually you CAN write what you want but keep in mind that you are writing an OC based or inspired by this or that character. It is not the actual character.

Let me tell you, at this point i am not sure anymore if we all played the same game or not.

Sebastian is a character that is introduced to our character because the teachers themselves think he is a good start to know things about the school. Little reminder that when Ominis was all by himself in Hogwarts, it was Sebastian and Anne who took him with them without any judgement about him and his family.

Teachers trust him. He is a good student, known for his good grades (being cocky ≠ being a bad person

Ominis said a multiple times that he doesn't understand the lessons (that he must have bought a potion to pretend it was his work) he always complains when we must go to class etc etc...

Sebastian is known to be the best at dueling and we came in and beat him after all this time. Everyone is arrogant about this situation (im talking mostly about you Leander) everyone but the one concerned, Sebastian. He is proud of you, congrats you about your job. He is humble.

Ominis didn't even introduce himself that he is already talking to us with an arrogant manner about how we could never beat Sebastian as... us. Judging our capacities based on... nothing

Sebastian reads a LOT which means that he is a high cultured person. Definitely not an idiot.

Ominis sleep on the floor.

The first time we spends with Sebastian, Peeves was there and saw us which means there is a witness. Sebastian could have worse if they found out he lied but he protected us without knowing each others. He is someone that can be trusted. (Reminder that i am talking about the character’s behaviour before dark magic)

We follow a boy during his desperate era. Which means that without this situation, none of what we've been through would have happened. Everything around him, put him into a desperate, needing, scared and stressful time and with all that we are aware that he will not be into his normal behaviour. Everyone is quite abandoning the situation about Anne (no one talk about her in Hogwarts when she apparently was a student known by everyone) Touching dark magic will change him at some point. Even the scenario told us the answer when multiple times, characters like Ominis or Anne will say " do not recognise him", "he is not like usual", what's happening to him?" This is NOT Sebastian, this is the dark magic that he is using into a dark time for him that turned him into a craziness hole.

Beginning of the game : Ominis used and saw dark magic all of his childhood and use his memories to joke around to threats other students with it, pretending he can do it on them.

End of the game: it was all pretending and he is terrifying by dark magic so when his best friend finally used it, he is frightened

The only time Seb felt betrayed by us, (the one and only moment into the undercroft) let me tell you once again: he felt BETRAYED by us and he didn't even shouted at us, he didn't even pushed it too far and if you feel bad because someone tells you, you are ignorant, well... This is not a big bad word right here... and this is actually how he felt. "Your ignorance about the situation made you do something you shouldn't have" (this is his thoughts) he didn't say that to hurt you. And guess what? He even apologised with a letter after (are you telling me that in your life you never argued with anyone because you are never upset by anything ?)

The first time we had a real encounter with Ominis, he shouted at us for nothing really important and using his family to scared you. Menacing us about how he can kick us out of the school (reminder : for nothing) And NEVER apologise even after knowing MC more and why we are here.

And Anne, ladies and gentlemen. Anne. Isn't she the proof that Sebastian would do anything for the one he loves. Always there for them, to cherish and protect them. Even we he is not close to someone, he is known to be a cool guy, cocky but not mean, chill and good with magic.

Ominis is known to do harassment on some students. Always talking to them with an arrogant attitude and insulting them. One of them is so scared that he asked our MC for help.

Sebastian always complain about tense situations when people are too strict or severe. Being rough is not is nature.

Ominis is always arguing or mocking everyone. Being rough does not bother him. Perhaps not in manner but with his words for sure.

Let's not forget about "talking sh*t on people's back" or (i don't like that terms so l'm going to change it) only "talking about my private life"

Sebastian is "abused" by his uncle (way before Anne's curse and no one knows about it. Some even are shocked when they found out, Sebastian was living into a little cottage. Sebastian never talk about others or even himself.

Ominis can be found around Hogwarts chatting about how his family is awful, how he hate them and how his sisters are annoying etc etc...

I am going to stop here. Because i can go on and on and on. But it was the more crucial points. Be sure about that: i love both of them. But i love them for who they really are and who they becomes. Not for a fantasy out of nowhere.

As i said in the beginning of my text. If you want to write what you like about the characters, keep in mind that this is an OC and not an "imagine".

Love

[mcl-pauly]

remember when nevra said gardy had no friend in hq

[interlunium-opus]

Enhypen as your Best Friend: Jake edition

Check out other members’ versions too: Heeseung | Jay | Sunghoon | Sunoo | Jungwon | Ni-Ki

Is so kind, caring and selfless that he makes you feel like the spawn of evil or something.

“Jake, what the hell? You have all these cards, you could have won instead!” You shriek when you flip his cards over and discovered that he had enough +4 UNO card to flip the game over.

“Yeah, but you’d have to pick up like 20 extra cards,” he shrugs, picking up the cards to reorganize them.

“So?”

“Well, I don’t want to do that,” he mumbles before shooting you his signature megawatt smile, “Not to you at least. 10/10 would do it to Ni-Ki though.”

Always keep you at the forefront of his mind.

When he’s at the coffee shop: “Oh, I bet she hasn’t had her coffee yet,” and then he goes on to order you your usual.

When he’s at the bakery: “Oh, I bet she hasn’t had her lunch yet — gotta get her something,” and then he goes on to buy a selection of your favorite pastries.

When he’s shopping, “Oh, she really loves clothes like this — I’ll just get it for her.”

When he passes by a bookstore, “Oh, that’s the kind of book she likes,” then he quickly disappears into the bookstore to get it for you.

“What are you? Her mum?” Sunghoon would often complain as he is always the one being made to wait while Jake is busy getting you stuffs.

Quality time with him would consist of activities like baking nights; picnics; volunteer sessions and so on. Being the selfless lad he is though, he’d always take it upon himself to do the majority of the hard work (though he’ll slot in a chance to brag about himself in between especially if it concerns his strength or skills).

“Oh gosh, this is why restaurants and bakeries exists,” you complain as you rolled the dough for the umpteenth time.

“Let me,” he set down the cream he was mixing, offering to take over.

“Dude, no — you’re more exhausted than I am from your soccer practice, I have absolutely no right to compl-“

“Aww don’t worry about it. You’ve been studying all night too,” he assures, pulling a chair and beckoning you to sit down instead, “besides, I have the strength of like a hundred men so yknow things like these are peanuts for me,” he snickers.

Boi is flirty as heck though. Thank God, you have ice in your veins. Otherwise, you’d be catching feelings quicker than you can spell out his name.

“Do you want anything?” He asks as you guys stand in line at Starbucks.

You shook your head, “Nah, not a fan. I like Coffee Bean better.”

"Oh we can stop by later then," he suggests.

"It's fine Jake, we've already passed it by earlier."

Then suddenly after disappearing for some 15 minutes to allegedly take a call outside, Jake returned, oddly out of breath, with a Coffee Bean paper bag, filled with your usual coffee order.

“Dude! Coffee Bean is like what almost 8 minutes away by walk?! That's like a 16 minute return-trip or something...”

“Less if you run," he winks, “Come on, for you — anything."

Then as per his habits, he’d bite his lips as he grins.

Or that other time, during one of your baking nights:

“You know if you’re tired you can always cancel our baking night right?” You suggest as you unlock the door to your apartment.

“No way — it’s like our weekly ritual. Also it’s like therapeutic for me, a respite from all those rowdy boys at home; rowdy boys at practice and my hectic lifestyle,” he posits, placing the groceries, which he had insisted to carry, up onto your kitchen counter, “unless of course you’re tired? Then of course we can-“

“Never as tired as you’re supposed to be though — if you say so, then sure.”

“Aww,” he coos, “Seriously, if you’re tired, I’ll take over tonight.”

“No way, you’re always taking up my share of work, I feel like a freeloader.”

“Oh come on, freeloading is when it’s one-sided. We aren’t like that.”

“You must really like baking huh?”

“I mean yeah but actually, it’s not the baking per se that I love the most from our baking nights,” Jake murmurs as he help you unpack the groceries, “it’s being with you that I love the most. That’s the therapeutic part, you; making things together with you; making things for you; —“

You stopped unpacking and stare up at him, wondering what have you done so far to even deserve Jake. He stares back at you, beaming widely, “basically you.” ((Yeah he bit his lips after that))

As if there’s gravity, his hands are somewhat always on you whether it is an arm over your shoulders; his hand holding yours whenever you guys cross the road; his hand reaching yours whenever you just put a hand up to wave at him in the hallway; all the tackle hugs he does whenever he sees you; resting his head against your shoulders; and the list goes on (nothing you’re uncomfortable with though). No wonder the girls are always shooting glares at you — he’s always acting as if you guys are dating.

“Gosh, get a room!” Jay would always scream whenever he's around you two and Jake starts to get all clingy and handsy.

A good exemplary student but for you, just for you, he can make some sort of light concession. For instance, if you doze off in class, he’d cover your back.

“Oh crap, I dozed off didnt I?”

“A bit,” Jake whispers back, “Go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up once he starts moving around the hall,” he winks.

“Nah I shouldn’t, I’ve already missed out a whole page of notes,” you sigh when suddenly Jake pushes his book towards you, “Got you covered girl, don’t worry. Just get another 5 minutes of shut-eye alright? I know you pulled up an all-nighter last night.”

“I wish you’re as lenient to me as you to her,” Ni-Ki grumbles beside him.

Jake scoffs, “Nah not you bruh — you deserve being found out when you’re napping when all you do at night is playing games with Heeseung.”

Would excitedly wave at you, or send a flying kiss at you if he feels daring, during his soccer matches whenever he spots you in the crowd.

Playfully competitive in a very annoying way. “Hey, bet you can’t run faster than I can..." / “Hey, bet you can’t finish the homework within an hour..." / "Hey, bet you can’t squat more than I do...” — it’s ok though, you thought, ‘cus no human is perfect, he has to have a flaw especially when his selflessness is inhumanely off the charts.

Your study buddy! You guys are always either in the library, the class or at each other’s places — mostly to study (if you guys aren’t having your non-study-related quality time, that is). Of course, he’d get competitive eventually, “hey, bet you can’t solve question 12! I got it in just what 3 minutes?”

Boi is a coward but he would brave through anything for you (at least *try* to). That's how everyone knows you're his soft spot.

"Jake, you hate horror movies.”

“But you love the Conjuring series”

“Yeah, but I can just watch it alone. You don’t need to accompany me to the theatre for this.”

“Nah, why would I do that to you? Come on have some faith in me — horror movies are nothing.”

and then you found out from a trusted informant (Jungwon) that Jake couldnt sleep without the lights on for 1 week straight after that.

[nutty1005]

Uniquely Him – Xiao Zhan: The biggest monster to defeat is himself

Translator’s Note: This article comes from ELLE Magazine 2019 Jan Issue.

He learned drawing since elementary school, drawing planets and monsters were his obsession, firmly believing in the existence of aliens. As a lively, vivid and exemplary person, he radiates a sense of security from someone dependable, and yet he has a worldly wisdom of one who knows the ways of the world but prefers not to practice it. 

He learned drawing since young, drawing planets and monsters were his obsession. When he watched Martians in movies as a child, his wild imagination gave him a battle with monsters. At that time, he was a boy who was especially fascinated with space, and believed firmly that aliens existed. When he saw news on UFOs, he was excited, curious, but also afraid – would the aliens be friendly with us?

After he read “The Three-Body Problem”, this feeling grew stronger. While exclaiming the broadness of the author’s imagination and how grand the universe is, he researched on the theories and explanations in the novel, as well as on astronomy. Xiao Zhan also imagined how the subjects in “The Three-Body Problem” would look like, “looks like an engineer, perhaps he wears spectacles, he must have a highly progressed mind, great mechanical skills, but probably useless in everyday life, just like Sheldon in ‘The Big Bang Theory’.”

The cruel logic behind all the glitz

Seated in front of the window in the hotel room, his long narrow eyes, puffy and red, Xiao Zhan just finished a day’s filming, and was accepting our interview in a layer of thick winter coat. His attitude was polite, and all around him was the vividness of youth – this made a huge impression.

He had his own studio when he was in year 2 of university, and became a designer after graduating – exemplary student Xiao Zhan’s most glorious moment was being able to design logos in projects with his seniors while he was still an intern, and the client eventually chose his design. Life as a designer lasted until 2015 – his university teacher recommended him to participate in “X-Fire” (TN: A talent search variety show) and he debuted, and since then, his life went onto a different track, becoming one of the hottest idols currently.

Actually, the challenge of becoming an artist is not much different from fighting monsters – since you receive flowers and applause, you would also receive gossip and rumors. His life had been smooth sailing till this, and this confused him for a while, “When the competition ended, there was some dissenting voices, I didn’t quite understand then. Now I’m more at peace, because when you choose a career, you need to learn to accept it. People will like you, and there will be people who won’t.”

However, the cruel logic behind all the glitz was something he could not have imagined. “Audiences do not see what you’ve experienced along the way, they would only judge you based on the final results.” He was filming his first period movie, being outdoors in the mountains at -10°C+ was a daily norm, “We’re filming by the river, everyday we could see the ice slowly form up, today the river is totally frozen, we could walk on it. Basically after every scene I have to cover my face with a warm water bag, otherwise my face would be numb from the cold and become uncontrollable.” And because today there was a scene to scream and shout, Xiao Zhan’s voice was already hoarse.

Xiao Zhan could overcome all this suffering and exhaustion well, the biggest monster he wanted to fight were his self imposed restrictions. “Just now I was thinking while doing make-up, that actually celebrities are like a product, packaged by make-up and styles in order to polish this product. I will bring forth my best to my audiences, but yet I don’t want to over package myself, the real me needs to be in it. I wish that everyone, while accepting my glorious exterior as a celebrity, would also accept my flaws and quirks, since after all, I am a vivid person.”

This sincerity and clarity is where Xiao Zhan’s wisdom lies.

“There is no grandiose in my life”

2018 is the year of rapid growth for Xiao Zhan, he had main roles in various dramas, such as “The Wolf”, “Joy of Life”, “The Untamed”, etc – honing his acting and radiating his presence.

As the lead actor in “The Untamed”, Xiao Zhan’s load was heavy and his filming schedule was tight – filming under the ceaseless summer heat in Hengdian, his mind was always tense. The temperatures in the set was as high as 50°C, the make-up could not stay on, and he filmed most scenes barefaced. The most unforgettable scene was a crying scene – Wei Wuxian, portrayed by Xiao Zhan, had an explosive emotional scene after the massacre of the Jiang family. This scene started filming in the morning, he and Jiang Yanli started crying since 7 a.m. and after they were done, their eyes were as swollen as that of goldfishes. Before this, he was filming “The Wolf” – he systematically took performance classes and grew rapidly in during the filming. “Familiar set and environment, learning to adjust to the nerves and tension, especially since there were hundreds of people servicing you on set, you can do no mistakes.” Xiao Zhan radiates this sense of security from someone dependable. “The Wolf” was his first time as a main supporting role, and he was under tremendous pressure during that period, he often dreamed of acting on set. After every scene he would request for everyone to provide feedback, and then he would learn continuously, analyze and quickly adjust.

After that he had his first cat of his life, a munchkin named Jianguo (TN: Jianguo means nut). After the performance teacher learned about this, one of the homework he gave Xiao Zhan was for him to observe his cat. As a cat-lover, he reveled in the it, “I found out some things that I overlooked, like you will find out that when she’s angry, affectionate or hungry her expression and calls are different.” Xiao Zhan was exceptionally loving to his cat – the first thing he did when after a day’s work was to go home and play with his cat. His private life was quiet and simple, he just stays at home. “The feeling of staying at home is like falling into a cloud, you could roll around as you like, there is no pressure.”

“There is no grandiose in my life.” This was what he felt that gave people the sense of security. His parents, while supportive of his career, were also worried, hence Xiao Zhan often communicated with them, sharing his career successes, helping them be at ease.

In the whole conversation, Xiao Zhan had the purity and enthusiasm belonging uniquely to a youth, and there was this sense of extraordinary realness in him. “Whether or not I want to be an idol, I don’t actually have a choice, the label of an idol is already on me, just that I want to slowly shed off the label of an idol, and become an actor accepted by audiences, so that they can see more of my inner self.”

“I especially dislike public proclamations, you have to pace your life.”

ELLE: What type of boyfriend do you think you are? XZ: I am the boyfriend who is more considerate of the other person, if there were to be my other half in the future, when she’s busy, upset or happy, or wants me to do something, I’ll try to accompany her the way she likes it.

ELLE: Are you the gentle puppy type of boyfriend? XZ: There’s definitely a dominating side, but if you were to be dominating everyday, how do you live? When you have the other half, the most important things are responsibility and trust. (After having a cat, do you think you’re a good dad?) I feel yes, from taking care of my cat.

ELLE: What type of girls do you most want to date? XZ: In many interviews before I spoke about warm, gentle and family-loving girls, but I feel that it still comes down to chemistry, and this is something unpredictable.

ELLE: If you are currently dating a girl, how would you hope to spend Valentine’s Day? XZ: Stay at home, and cook together. There’s a phrase about when you love the right person, every day’s Valentine’s Day, why do you have to spend that day in the crowd with everyone. Being an artist is quite particular, and quite tiring, I have to go back to live my life. If everyday has to be vigorous and stirring, there’s no way to live. No one can act everyday, I especially dislike public proclamations, I feel that you have to pace your life.

ELLE: If we give you a holiday now, what would you do? XZ: Go home and rest, with my parents, and then play with my cat.

ELLE: Are you a typical Libra? XZ: I don’t think so, I don’t have difficulties in choosing, when I spot something I want to buy, I’ll just buy. But sometimes I’ll be stuck in things that I care about, for example the scene I did today, if I’m not satisfied with it, I will think about it from morning till night, and annoy the others around me with my nagging.

[anothertinystory]

Do you think I'll get house points if I act like I care? 〚Part II〛

» He’s baiting her, Hermione realizes. He enjoys this. She can tell by the way his eyes glisten and his mouth slightly curves. Surprisingly, she finds Draco isn’t the only one. She likes this too, despite her better judgement and she mentally curses herself for that. «

*note: I’m not an english native speaker, so please excuse any grammar mistakes. I’ll gladly fix them if you point them out to me.

Read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV & Part V

When Hermione Granger arrives at Charms, none of the other students are present yet. Harry and Ron share this class with her but disappeared after lunch to practice for their upcoming quidditch tournament. Hermione, not being particularly interested in the sport, decided to head to the library in the meantime to do some of her homework.

With the lunch break being almost over she now sits at one of the front desks and pulls up her textbook while other students start to appear. Lately she’s a little on edge. Even more than usual. Because when you’re friends with Harry Potter, that feeling always seems to linger. That is the reason why she notices exactly when Draco Malfoy decides to grace the room with his presence. After last weeks potions class she’s still annoyed with him. Not that she usually isn’t. He’s always a git but she doesn’t normally spare him a lot of thoughts.

He takes a seat at the other end of the room but before Hermione can make any more observations about him, Harry and Ron appear at her side. “Mione, you should have seen me during practice! You would have been so proud.” She smiles at her friend and listens as he fills her in on their training session. “You know Ron, if you would put as much effort into your essays as you do into Quidditch, maybe I wouldn’t have to take so much time to correct them for you.” Her voice is stern but her eyes say otherwise. Harry only grins at that.

Professor Flitwick assigns them to perform Drought Charms today. Every student has a glass filled with water on their desk and the task is to make the liquid disappear. For Hermione that is an easy exercise, but not all of her classmates seem to manage as well as her. So when Flitwick calls on Draco Malfoy to perform one, Hermione can’t help but be a little smug at his failed attempt. It reminds her that she still bests him at most subjects and that gives her the reassurance she needs to boldly offer their Professor to show her fellow classmate how it’s done. Draco, of course, is everything but grateful for her input and makes no attempt to hide it. Hermione isn’t fazed though and moves over to his desk while the other students still try their luck, Neville knocking his glass over in the process.

If looks could kill, she thinks, Draco Malfoy probably would have her coffin ready. “Stop wishing for my disappearance and start with the matter at hand, will you?” He raises one eyebrow at that. “I guess you and I will have to disagree on what the matter at hand really is. But I am curious. Are you a Legilimens now, too?” She gives him a disapproving look and slightly shakes her head at his amused tone. “You know, you’re entirely too arrogant for someone who can’t even manage to cast this charm.” She tips the rim of his glass with her wand for emphasis. The Slytherin doesn’t like for her to have the upper hand, she can tell. “Careful, Granger. Or I might cast a very different charm.” At that she fails to bite back a laugh. “With those skills of yours? Sure, I’m terrified already.” Even Vincent Crabbe, who stands next to Draco, barely manages to hide a smile. 

“Honestly, I don’t need your help. Why don’t you annoy someone who actually cares.” Hermione snorts at that. “Oh Malfoy, I know you care. And if only to prove that you’re better than everyone else.” The Slytherin holds her gaze then. “Are we really still talking about me or are you actually referring to yourself right now?”

He’s baiting her, Hermione realizes. He enjoys this. She can tell by the way his eyes glisten and his mouth slightly curves. Surprisingly, she finds Draco isn’t the only one. She likes this too, despite her better judgement and she mentally curses herself for that. So instead of giving him the retort she knows he desperately craves, Hermione takes his hand and draws the motion of the spell in the air with the wand he still holds. “You’ve been doing it too fast earlier. Try it with more reverence.” She half expects him to recoil at that but he merely shoots her a look. She quickly lets go of his hand and this time Draco actually gives it a shot. His eyebrows furrow in concentration.

It’s funny, she thinks. There’s nothing that drives Draco Malfoy quite like the incessant need to prove himself. His pettiness is unmatched. So when he tries this time, she knows he’s going to get it right. Not because he actually cares much for the incantation but because he wants to prove her wrong.

What he doesn’t consider however, is that when he finally manages the casting, it is Hermione that receives praise from Flitwick, not him. “Excellent! Miss Granger, your classmates can call themselves lucky to have you here to help. Don’t you agree, Mr. Malfoy?” She can’t really tell wether the Professor is serious or if he’s mocking the Slytherin. Judging by the look on his face, Draco can’t tell either. “For your exemplary behaviour I award ten points to Gryffindor.” Well, apparently he is serious.

Before the Blonde can make a biting remark, Hermione beats him to it. “You’re very welcome, Malfoy.” The witch is well aware that she’s throwing his own words back at him. Pettiness apparently isn’t only his forte. With a smug smile she returns to where Harry and Ron are, both of them sharing a questioning look. “Why did you even offer to help him?” The Gryffindor merely shrugs and turns her attention back to the lesson.

She’s less on edge for the rest of the day.

[your-highnessmarvel]

Gate Keeper (part one)

Summary: Some say it’s not the journey that matters, but the destination. The destination justifies the journey. However, for him, the hunt was much more pleasurable than the meal. 

Word count: 2146

Warnings: none for this part. 

Pairings: Tom Hiddleston x reader

A/N: I would just like to clarify that here, in Quebec (Canada) the legal age is 18. For us, when you are in college, typically you are of legal age. I wanted to clarify for those who live in countries where legal ages are older. If you have any questions, feel free to drop by my ask box. You can always submit your ideas for oneshots or imagines in my ask box as well. Enjoy! 

Hiddleston et al. was a company reputed for incredible lawyers and extraordinary staff. This company was a model for any type of retail or sales companies wishing to attain perfection. It was well divided, well organized, and management was exemplary. Staff workers ranged from secretaries, to juridical duties, up to lawyers. As a law student just beginning in college, you were ecstatic to be hired at Hiddleston et al. Even if you were hired just as a clerk for the juridical secretaries, it was still a very good employment to put on your resume. Your friends made fun of you for being just a clerk, but you were there, in the midst of the law, filing through files of fraud. You were hands-on participating, even if just a little.

           After a year of working there as a clerk, you’d become used to who was who. Low branch workers reported to the secretaries who then reported to the lawyers. You weren’t sure how many lawyers exactly there were, as you’d never been upstairs in the penthouse bureaus, but you knew there were many. You’d seen many of them as well; prancing around downstairs to stare at the pretty new low branch secretaries or asking for a refill. Some were professional and only came downstairs to retrieve important and locked-away files.

You’d been promoted by one very kind lawyer as the “gate keeper.” Your job was to guard all the files that had been settled and solved, which were locked behind a double metal door much resembling that of a prison. You were content with the job. You worked there Monday and Wednesday nights, sitting at your own little desk, guarding the gate. You had time to secretly squeeze in homework because no one came to the old, solved files well into the soiree. Even when someone caught you doing homework, they weren’t very much bothered by that.  

           Monday night. Everything had been perfect. Your college R-score was exactly where you needed it to be to be accepted in University with honors. You had woken up bright and early that morning with enough energy to complete the day. Work started at five and you had been at your desk with your textbooks open at a quarter before.

           The usual suspects came and went through the gate, which you could open with the keys your head of management had given you. You knew the files room like the back of your hand, having spent over a year there as a clerk, cleaning and filing. You knew where the Brownsend fraud files were or where the box for the state money laundering was stored. Every piece of information was yours.    

           Well passed seven, the door opened, and you looked up from your notes. A freakishly tall man walked in, wearing a white dress shirt which he’d rolled the sleeves to expose chiseled forearms. He wore a black tie, loosely hanging from his neck, as if he’d been here for a very long time. He adorned a look of exhaustion; his light blond brows pulled in a tight frown, fatigue plaguing his blue eyes, curly blond hair disheveled. Even despite the tired look that he wore, he still looked impeccable with a crispy white dress shirt and grey dress pants. Too impeccable.

           This must be one of the lawyers.

           You looked down at yourself. You were wearing dirty sneakers, a pair of black skinny jeans, and a blue sweater. You were not dressed to impress, but you had been placed in the dark files room as the gate keeper and you barely saw anyone, so what was the point of dressing up?

           He approached your desk, a smell of pine wood and cologne assaulting your senses. From where you stared up at him, you could see he was obviously older than you, maybe too old for you. But he was still so freakishly good looking, adorning this aura of confidence and masculinity that made you squirm slightly. Slightly.  

           “Miss Y/L/N.” His voice was low and echoed in the room, his blue gaze landing on you. How in the hell did he know your last name? He took his right hand out of his pocket and pushed a small piece of note paper onto your desk, revealing beautiful writing. Who knew such an arrogant man could have exceptional calligraphy? “I need these files.” He gave you a look while you bent slightly over to retrieve the note.

           You nodded, unable to form words as you caught his smell again. A shiver sliced painfully down your spine and you found yourself slightly wobbly as you stood. He followed you with a magnetic gaze, while you unlocked the first door. As you made your way to the second, you glanced behind you out of curiosity and was surprised to find him standing respectfully behind you.

           “No one is allowed in here but me,” you said, hoping that the sound of your voice was confident and not scared. He rose a brow and the corner of his lip lifted in a sultry smirk.

           “I’m sure we can make an exception for me,” he answered. He was so much taller than you that you had to look up, almost craning your neck, and it made you tremble ever the slightest.  

           “If my manager catches me letting people in and out, I am going to lose my job,” you insisted, hands on your hips, trying to sound patronizing.

           His smirk widened. “I am not just people, Miss Y/L/N.” Your heartbeat quickened. He took a small step forward, rising his brows and gesturing to the key dangling from the lock, as if insisting for you to open it already. He extended his hand. “Tom.”

           You scrunched up your face, unable to decide if you wanted to keep defying him or accept his courtesy. “Y/N.” You decided that the more friends, the merrier.

           He smiled widely, showing all pearly whites and you shook his hand. It was warm and engulfed yours almost completely.

You unlocked the door and it screeched on its rusty hinges, hanging open for you both to stare into the dimly lit hallway. “Excuse the darkness,” you said. “I’m not tall enough to change all the bulbs.”

           He walked in ahead of you, while you made sure to lock the second door behind you. “I’ll get someone down here to change them then,” he answered, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to take the lead. You frowned. Who was this man?

           “No one comes down here anyway,” you mumbled as you made your way down the hall. “And usually, I’m the only one in here.” You shot him a look over your shoulder to emphasize your anger at the fact that he had ignored and insisted to break the rules. If you were caught, this was a serious offense.

           “I know,” he mumbled from behind you.

           You turned right and down a short hallway, the shelves stacked with dusty boxes on either side of you.

           “This file,” you said, “is in the oldest wing of the room. What could you be working on that requires you to go back to-“ you looked at the paper between your fingers- “1968?”  

           He kept quiet for a few steps before answering. “It’s a big project, Miss Y/L/N.” You felt a strange burning in your stomach.

           “Is it too much to ask you how you know my last name?” you asked.

           “I just know my employees,” he answered.

           You were about to turn around and question him more, but you had reached the right aisle and he had seen the date on the box. Even when you opened your mouth to protest (because only you could handle boxes), he reached over and grabbed it anyway. “Here we go,” he sighed.

           He stepped quite close to you, the smell of him invading your senses and you found yourself clutching the keys to your chest. He looked down when he noticed your discomfort. A smirk graced his face, folding the skin adorably on his cheeks, yet the mischievous look in his eyes was everything but adorable.

           “You’re not allowed to handle the boxes, Tom,” you said, voice raising just a little bit. “I am to hold the box and hand you the files. You shouldn’t even be in here.”

           You risked a look upwards. He smirked again, leaning back as if finding all of this so hilarious. “You don’t have to worry about the rules with me, Y/N.” There was something less hilarious and more predatory in his tone. You couldn’t help the faint heat in your stomach as his eyes slowly raked up and down the length of your body.

           “I don’t want to be fired,” you admitted, squinting your eyes as if an angrier look would scare him away.

           He let the box hang from his right hand, the weight of it making him lean slightly to one side. He came so close to you that your chests brushed. A breath caught in your throat, your neck taunt, and your hands still painfully clutching the keys. He huffed, as if your reaction was hilarious and not a warning to back off. Your heart raced against your breastbone, making the vein in your neck strain against your flesh. His eyes wondered to your neck, a sly smile stretching his lips. “I will make sure you are not fired,” he said, voice low and raspy.

           You tried to speak, yet the second your lips parted, his index finger was resting against your mouth. Startled, you frowned and took a step back. You hit the metal shelf with a clonk, Tom still staring at you with malice.

           “I should get back,” you mumbled. He was making this whole situation quite uncomfortable, yet he was incredibly good looking and made heat pool in your stomach. However, keeping your job was more important than how this man was making your insides feel.

           “What is there for you to go back to?” he asked, frowning slightly. “Your homework?”

           A frown knitted your eyebrows deeply. Again, when you opened your mouth to ask him how in the hell did he know all these things about you, he had used his free hand to grab a lock of your curls. You were taken by surprise, your eyes shooting from his fingers up to his eyes and back. He stared at you with mischief, his fingers rubbing the locks between his digits. Then he let the locks fall back onto your chest and deftly moved his fingertips to skim along your exposed collarbone.

           “How did you work here, right under my nose, and I never noticed you?” he asked, his face taking a genuine look of concern as he skimmed his fingers along the inside of your clavicle until he reached your neck.

           The box made a startling sound as it hit the ground, making you jump. He smiled at your giddiness, taking the opportunity to step a little closer. His fingers continued their journey until they were running along your jaw. A shiver made goosebumps bubble on your flesh, your neck peppered with little bumps. This pleased him even more when he saw that, his smile growing even larger.  

           “Such a fine little creature.” The proximity of his body was making you feel like Jell-O. Your knees were about to buckle, the electricity running from his fingers and into your flesh was making you dizzy. His smell, which was invading your senses, was driving you crazy. He was barely touching you and you could feel the dampness in your panties. Who the hell was this guy?

           His thumb pressed against your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth ever the slightest. He smirked, content that you were obeying his silent commands. You were wondering how you could be letting his happen when he leaned in a pressed a soft, almost chaste kiss to your lips.  

           Your eyes widened exponentially. Extremely surprised, you were unable to process any thought, therefore letting him press his mouth harder against your own. Quickly, he retracted, using his thumb again to keep your lips slightly parted.

           He stared down at you with content. Your cheeks were blushed adorably, your eyes still wide in shock. He chuckled lightly. “I hope it wasn’t that bad,” he said.

           You were on fire. Your insides were coiling with flames and electricity ran rampant in your veins. He had given you a simple kiss, yet your whole body had risen with arousal as if he had stripped you naked. You could only stare at him, bewildered and confused.

           “Wear a skirt Wednesday,” he commanded in a less-than-sweet tone. You frowned, taken aback by his sudden frigidness. You watched him pick up the box, give you a tight-lipped smile, and smoothly grab the keys that you were still clutching.

           Your boss was so going to fire you.

[collegeeducationnewsllcusa]

2021 MBAs To Watch: Gráinne Dunne. Boston College (Carroll)

“Loyal and pragmatic with a thirst for adventure.”

Hometown: Athy, Ireland

Fun fact about you: I’m on a mission to visit all 63 national parks in the United States. I’ve visited 10 since moving to the US.

Basic studies and degree:

Trinity College Dublin, Bachelor of Science (Pharmacy)

Royal College of Surgeons, Master of Science (Pharmacy)

Where was the last place you worked before enrolling in business school? I worked in Operations at AbbVie, where I led a team of 13 pharmaceutical technicians at a drug manufacturing facility.

Where did you do an internship in summer 2020? PwC, Chicago / Remote.

Where will you work after you graduate? I have accepted an offer from PwC and will return to their Pharma Life Sciences Advisory Group after graduation.

Teamwork and leadership roles in the business school: As part of my community ministry at Boston College, I volunteer as a tutor on the Invest ‘N Kids (INK) program. INK is run by PhD students as a tutoring program designed to help disadvantaged middle school students with their homework.

I also volunteer at the West End House. This is the largest youth development agency in the Allston-Brighton community in Boston, offering impactful programs that ensure local young people are academically successful, develop professional skills, and adopt healthy lifestyles.

As a member of the Graduate Consulting Club, I took part in workshops and mentored a group of first-year MBA students. I’ve also participated in several case competitions. I worked with the admissions team in recruiting prospective students and acted as an ambassador for the program at information events.

I am a member of IntEnt, the Graduate Intrapreneurship & Entrepreneurship Association at Boston College. I participated in the IntEnt Apprenticeship Program, a volunteer opportunity that connects Boston College graduates with local Boston organizations.

I am a recipient of the Denis O’Brien Fellowship. Irish businessman Denis O’Brien created this merit-based scholarship, which offers two Irish students a year a fully funded MBA in BC, where O’Brien himself earned his MBA in 1982.

What school or extracurricular achievement are you most proud of during your studies? I am proud of how my relationship with the church has changed, inspired by the Jesuit tradition of service at Boston College. A strong sense of community was instilled in me. I don’t think I really understood before business school that individuals rarely change needles on big issues, but there is great power in having individuals consistently support their community. This is a change of perspective for which I am very grateful.

What success in your professional career are you most proud of? Working with an innovative biotech company like AbbVie offered excellent opportunities for exciting and meaningful work. As a Technical Operations Pharmacist, I was responsible for the technical transfer of a new oncological drug from pilot to commercial scale. It’s incredible to work on projects that have such a real impact on the lives of patients around the world. I was also the supply chain representative on the rollout team for a new hepatitis C (HCV) treatment at the rollout manufacturing site. Prior to the introduction of this therapy, there was no cure for HCV. Treatment at the time required long-term maintenance and was incredibly debilitating. AbbVie’s HCV treatment cleared the virus from your body within 12 weeks, allowing patients to live full and healthy lives.

Why did you choose this business school? Boston College has a very strong data analytics track – that was very important to me when choosing a program. I really enjoyed mastering data tools like SQL, Tableau, SPSS, Alteryx, and Python and learning how to use these tools for strategic insights. These are skills that will set me apart in the workplace.

Boston College has a deep connection to Ireland and a great sense of community, which makes it a special experience for me and where I feel very at home.

What was your favorite MBA event or tradition at your business school? The Tuck Winter Carnival, an annual intercollegiate event that BC is invited to, was my favorite MBA event – especially since it happened just before last year’s lockdown. I was fortunate enough to take part as a freshman MBA student. It was great not only getting to know MBA students from other schools, but also building stronger connections with my classmates and high school students.

Looking back on your MBA experience, what would you do differently and why? There isn’t much that I would change. I was hoping to go on a volunteer trip. With the lockdown, however, this was not possible. Otherwise, I might have changed a course or two afterwards. However, by dealing with various topics, I was able to understand my personal interests, strengths and weaknesses.

What’s the biggest myth about your school? Boston College is known as a strong financial school. That’s true, but the BC MBA also has a broad curriculum and we are fortunate to have very talented professors everywhere. For example, we have an incredibly strong data analytics track. Professors like Pieter Vanderwerf, George Wyner, Sam Ramsbottom and Jonathan Reuter make their respective fields accessible, practical and entertaining.

What surprised you most about the business school? I was surprised that I liked the more technical and quantitative subjects, although I am probably qualitatively stronger. There is a great sense of satisfaction in tackling a difficult problem and overcoming the challenge.

What did you do during the application process that gave you an advantage at the school you chose? A face-to-face visit to a school and a face-to-face meeting with faculty and students is invaluable, not only to give you an edge during the application process, but also to determine if the school is a good culturally fit for you.

Which MBA classmate do you admire most? Kimberly Hay Strauss is remarkable. She is always up to date in class while doing internships and looking after her son during school time. Despite her humble, low-key style, it is evident that she is incredibly intelligent and hardworking. She is also very generous with her classmates.

How disruptive was switching to an online or hybrid environment after the COVID outbreak?

The pandemic was certainly a shock and the MBA experience was one of many things that were hit by these unprecedented times. Regardless, BC and the professors did a great job adapting to an online environment quickly and providing personal support to the students. I also took the opportunity to get the most out of the online MBA experience by setting up zoom workouts in the morning, using virtual office hours, and making daily check-in calls with my friends. I was incredibly grateful that I had the opportunity to build relationships with my fellow students in the first semester. That was a great support network.

Who most influenced your decision to start a business while studying? Several people inspired and influenced my decision to do business while in college. My father is my role model. He is a serving leader within the local community. He set high standards for my siblings and me and taught us to do our best in everything we did. He instilled in us the confidence that great opportunities are open to us.

My younger sister is a trained pharmacist and also attended business school. She is a health counselor and opened my eyes to the impactful work available to those who can marry a health and business perspective.

James Hughes, a director at AbbVie, taught me a lot about strategic thinking and how to effectively support and engage a team. He is a great mentor who has actively supported my personal development and professional career.

What are the top two items on your professional bucket list? In the short term, I’m excited to come to PwC to work with life science clients to solve their greatest challenges. I am interested in building based on my data analysis skills that I acquired at BC. This is in line with PwC’s goal of training its employees with new data tools. Ideally, I want to help companies design and leverage data systems to achieve operational efficiencies and improve the overall patient experience.

In the long term, I would like to start my own company. Ideally, I want to start a small or medium-sized business that offers job opportunities or drives growth in my community.

What did … do Gráinne such an invaluable addition to the 2021 class?

“Gráinne has the ideal qualities that we expect from a BC MBA student. She is smart, hardworking, and dedicated to giving back to the community. Her exemplary achievements and contributions at BC – in the classroom and her work with Invest N ‘Kids, in her summer internship and at BC MBA admissions events – testify to her consistent pursuit of excellence.

Born and raised in Ireland, Gráinne attended Trinity College, where she earned both a BS and an MS in pharmacy. After graduation, she was hired by AbbVie, the Illinois-based pharmaceutical company, to work on the company’s business development program in Dublin, Ireland. Because of the high quality of her work, she was given the opportunity to work at AbbVie’s Chicago office.

Gráinne applied to the Carroll School, where she received the highly selective Denis O’Brien Scholarship, which is awarded to students expressing an interest in the economy or business development in Ireland. After a successful first year in the program, Gráinne completed the consultant internship program at PwC in Chicago in the summer of 2020 and will return there for a full-time position after graduation. We have been fortunate to have Gráinne as a member of the 2021 class and she is a real pleasure to work with. In addition to all of her successes in the program, Gráinnes’ humility and her commitment to the BC MBA program make us proud to have her as a member of our community. “

Marilyn Eckmann Associate Dean, Graduate Program, Carroll School of Management

source https://collegeeducationnewsllc.com/2021-mbas-to-watch-grainne-dunne-boston-college-carroll/

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“Your guardian is going to murder half the school in cold blood if I permit you to get away with this,” Solas says. He makes no move to actually stop her, though, so Ellana continues to tie bedsheets together. Solas is sitting at her desk and going through her homework.

“Did you know,” Ellana asks as she sticks her head out the window to double check if she’s gotten the length of the sheet right. “Hey, Solas? Did you know that you’re probably one of the worst professors ever in the history of schools in that you don’t stop your students from trying to break any rules? Which makes you also one of the best professors, of course.”

“Surana sent you here to, presumably, get an education befitting of someone of your status,” Solas says, opening her desk drawer to search out her ink and writing supplies. “He did not, I hope, send you here so you could sneak out of your dorm room to fraternize.”

“Are you actually going to do my homework for me?” Ellana pauses as she’s lowering her sheet rope out the window to watch him uncap one of her ink bottles and load a pen. “That’s above and beyond, Professor.”

“No, that does you the disservice of denying you the chance to learn. I am correcting your homework,” Solas replies. “And you know that I’m going to be writing your guardian about this incident.”

“You’re going to snitch on me? I’m disappointed. I always heard that you were the good professor.”

“You’re going to get caught, and I will be required to write a report about it,” Solas says. “It’s not a question, Lavellan. You will be caught. I will not help you. Your guardian will be notified. And you will receive a demerit. These are absolute truths.”

Ellana pouts.

“And your lip will catch on something if you continue to stick it out like that.”

“You really know how to just suck the joy out of everything you touch, huh?” Ellana sighs. “I can totally believe that you and Alim are friends.”

“I’m honored that Duke Surana considers me a friend. Honestly, I view him more as an exemplary student who was a joy and delight to teach and mentor,” Solas says. “You cannot possibly grasp the depths of my disappointment and despair when you and your brother enrolled into the academy as his wards and you both turned out like this. You both take after his sister in the worst of ways.”

“Didn’t Aunt Neria study here as well?”

“Yes and she was June’s favorite pupil. She was absolutely terrible at any sort of handicraft and abysmal in all of the subjects June presides over. But she had a certain attitude.” Solas pauses. “She also had a way for getting under Elgar’nan’s skin.” Solas glances at Ellana as she tightens the laces on her boots. “Did you know that the faculty was placing bets on whether the two of you would follow in Neria or Alim’s footsteps? I won. But I also lost.” Solas sighs and then starts to neatly write over one of her essays. “It goes without saying that I was not here to witness you breaking curfew to sneak out and — did you say what you were going to do?”

“No. Did you want me to?”

“In the vaguest details possible.”

“I’m going to sneak into the boys dorm to meet the transfer students,” Ellana says.

“It goes without saying that I was not here to see you do this,” Solas says.

“Why are you here?”

“Because Duke Surana politely asked me to look after you as he worries that you and your brother would struggle in school due to your country backgrounds,” Solas replies. “He was, obviously, incorrect in placing his concern on that issue. But I gave him my word. Also Sylaise asked me to look after the girl’s dorm tonight while she does something with her husband. I didn’t ask.”

“Why is Professor Sylaise asking you to look after the girl’s dorm?”

“Because none of you would ever think of attempting any sort of seduction tactic on me and my interest in our student’s existence outside of academia can only be described as imagined.”

“Surely someone would question why you’re coming into a young lady’s dorm room at night after curfew though.”

Solas points at the open door where idle chatter from the other girl’s rooms floats in and out, along with the sounds of girls moving between rooms.

“Every single occupant on this floor has their door open,” Solas replies. “The lack of strict enforcement of the rules in this building is absolutely stunning. But compared to the boy’s dorm I would think it appropriate. The antics young ladies of your sort get into tend to trend towards the subtle and long-term producing delayed and prolonged satisfaction in comparison to the absolute blatant stupidity that results in instant gratification that takes place when the boys are unsupervised.”

“Who’s watching the boy’s dorm if you’re here?”

“Elgar’nan. Much to his delight, no doubt.” Solas glances towards the door as a figure darts past. “Miss Sabrae, I am not going to ask you why you need the decorative sword from the common room. But I am going to warn you that if you intend it for any purpose other than decorative it will break and given its age it will break in a very dangerous way. Exercise caution. If you need something for practical use there are iron rods in storage in the attic that were supposed to be used to add bars to the lower windows. I trust that you’re able to find your way in with your own talents.”

“Thank you, Professor!” Merrill’s voice calls from down the hall. Ellana watches as the other girl hurries past Ellana’s room back towards the common room, sword in her arms.

“Wow, you really don’t care about us,” Ellana says dryly. “Why are you even a teacher? I can’t believe Professor Sylaise chose you for this job.”

“Academia and family business. And it’s better than one of our sisters. They’d actively attempt to incite a revolt with you,” Solas replies. “Are you leaving or not?”

��I’m going, I’m going,” Ellana says. fastening one end of the sheets to an iron bar she’d pilfered from said attic earlier. “I can’t believe you’re actively encouraging me to sneak into a boy’s dormitory. What if something happens to me?”

“As if you couldn’t handle yourself perfectly well,” Solas replies. “Miss Sabrae, if I can hear you, you’re doing it wrong. Perhaps you should enlist the help of one of your more subtly inclined peers?”

“Sorry, Professor!”

[keiraelaine]

2017

This year I learned the compassion and caring that I’ve always felt shame for lacking. I learned how to listen and show up when someone tells me how they feel and I’m working out the kinks with making caring space for myself in relationships. I learned that I am worthy and I found love and I learned that I need to care about myself in order to take care of myself. I started learning how to do that. Long long post below. 

January: I flew into Green Bay like someone who doesn’t have any sense of self-preservation. I ignored the signs. Or, I worried that I was too anxious, and that it wouldn’t work because I couldn’t just trust a person. I was out of theory though, and I felt like I could breathe easier than I had in a year. Benson stopped me in the hall, surprised. Jan. 20 sucked. Landlord continued to not do his job. In coding, I felt like I was actually learning a cool thing. I spoke to no one. AfAm Writers seating was straight up segregated and we were intimidating. I learned more about the world at BGH than I did anywhere else. I suppose I felt shame, but I was away from the con. I couldn’t make myself care about getting out of bed. The voice search was frustrating, because no other students really showed up. 

February: I learned what I want to do with my life from a candidate. I had a reason to make myself get up in the morning. I offered crumbs because that’s what I did best, ask for nothing and feel anxious. We had one good night. People suggested walking away. I scared myself by not drawing a line and allowing some major bullshit. I should have known because every white girl I’ve been with couldn’t ignore me in public if she tried. My new friends showed me what respect looked like. In coding, my attendance and attention faltered. One night, I threw my phone. An apartment opened up and it seemed perfect. It took weeks for me to figure out he and we were going to stay unhealthy. I felt ignored and unimportant. My writing in AfAm was exemplary. My friend got really, really hurt by a shitty boy. I got hurt by a shitty boy too. I felt shame.

March: The coding project loomed just in time for me to realize I knew nothing about Java. The random girl in my class who I worked with made me laugh from my belly. The boy in our group was MIA and sexist. Cue the hardest project of my life with a partner who was brown but not a lesbian. I kept wanting to give up. I slowly figured out I thought and was afraid to think she was cute. My friends tried playing matchmaker. ACDA was magic and disappointing and educational all at once. I came back and made some quip about morning finals, and I gave back shit that wasn’t mine. I moved! I observed girl choir and thought it was impossible. I got a biopsy and was not dying. I passed coding barely, and AfAm with flying colors. I was nervous about history and about scenes, and anxious about the boundary I drew, but it turns out the Ignore Boring Girls in Public game continued regardless of how I tried to communicate. Some people I thought were friends knew and decided to not have my back. I decided to kiss the girl I wanted to kiss instead of waiting for some bullshit that would never not hurt. 

April: After kissing the girl I wanted to kiss, who was brown and not a lesbian and also cannot do Java, I went to the library with her, and then to breakfast, and then to a movie, and then back to bed! Beethoven haunted me. History started good and so did Race and Ethnicity, but RE went downhill fast. It was more 101 than I could even consider sitting through. They put me in with an orchestra and I sang well. I figured out that anxiety was now a loud, disruptive thing that I had to deal with every day of my life because of the shit I picked up from useless boys and men, especially theory. I apologized too much. I loved my new apartment. I was afraid to like this girl, but I pulled a Torres and UHauled faster than I thought proper. We said things to each other that were honest and caring at the same time, and kissed in my office.I stopped being afraid. Kadihjia left and I felt lost and angry and resentful. Spring scenes were fun!

May: Spring scenes continued to be fun because I barely had to speak to the directors, and thank god. They made me a witch with a knife and put me in white make-up. Choir became insufferable. I wanted to be in Cantala. I thought about dropping RE. I thought about dropping everything but singing and poems. Melissa gave me the tools for an excellent imitation poem and continued to trust me for reasons I can’t fathom still. I made friends with the Academy! They and Julie grew my brain bigger than I thought possible. I felt angry all the time. Every day. I learned jaw tension and migraines. I learned my recital rep. I wrote good program notes, and my mom came to visit. I didn’t weep this time. I sang very well. My people were there. My girlfriend was there, because that’s who she was. I looked elegant. Campus went to shit. My friends got hurt. I felt afraid.

June: I shaved the side of my head and rebleached the blonde bit and we three got tattoos and had a sleepover. My friend group kind of went to shit and I decided to not have friend groups anymore. I took an incomplete in history and then passed that shit like nobody’s business. I was so proud of myself. I worked an office job that seemed totally fine before it started sucking my soul out. Anger ran my life. Reunion weekend was a time for singing and remembering and confusion, but mostly a time for singing. I grew to resent the people I worked with. I missed my girlfriend but I trusted her, and missing someone you trust is a whole different game. I tried out veganism and yoga and both were good. Gaycation!

August: I scheduled box braids and tried bullet journaling and I got box braids and I felt Real. I felt ready and real and beautiful and worthy and loved. Except at work which continued to be bullshit. I worried about theory, but I knew I could at least try with a new professor. Still angry always. I felt like I could spend a good long time with my girlfriend. 

September: I thought all my classes would be exciting except theory. Turns out, a good teacher and an excellent therapist make theory perfectly good, and a teacher who doesn’t care to decolonize the classroom can make interesting content insufferably boring. I felt angry and anxious and safe. Facilities fired me. I had the worst panic attack of my life about my refund, and I felt angry at a white woman I typically trust more than most folks. PEDAL hit the group running. 

October: It was affecting me that half the queer Black women at school left. Anger abound. I was ready to slap some smiles off white girls’ faces. I was ready to schedule an actual fight with Richard. I was ready to drop Sonja’s class. My homework was getting done but I couldn’t say anything to a professor without also saying sorry. I did jack in my independent study. I thought about I wanted a Black Studies MA. 

November: Melissa convinced me about MFAs. I figured out that all I could do was give the best presentation in the class I wanted to drop. I took my hair out and panicked about it. I realized I needed to shave it off, so I did. Nothing I have ever done is as freeing as that I figured out that some white middle class women love technicality more than anything else. I learned that I can’t yet glare a shit-eating grin off a white face. I learned that I have trouble listening to my own needs, again. I learned that I’m allowed to work on it, that I’m allowed to feel overwhelmed and need to be comforted and held. I wanted to go home. We planned Costa Rica. I shaved all my hair off.

December: Straightness was a weight on my chest. I passed every single class. I got an A in music theory. I earned the grade of ‘A’ in MUTH 252. It felt unbelievable, like a miracle but also like a birthday, like a matter of course. I missed Rebecca. I had a massive breakdown about grad school. Melissa showed up for that anxiety. Girl choir was indescribable. I had a short quarter-life crisis about music education. I sank into a week-long lesbian unrequited shame melancholy and wrote some poems and asked for help and pulled myself out of it. I got into a professional choral ensemble. I applied to Cave Canem. We moved. I fell in love with our new house. We made a plan to go home to the sun after school lets out. I fought with my brothers and I broke down crying in the car and I ate real Mexican food and I apologized and made up with my brothers and I jumped in a cold pool and I worried about the future. On Christmas, I was Black for the first time. I had a panic attack about coming back. I had another panic attack about coming back. Anxiety sat like bile in my throat the entire time I was in the air. I came back and spent time with a really wonderful human, and I cleaned and reorganized everything, and I ate cookies, and now I feel like I can do this next six months, even though it’s so much bullshit. I realized that I need to make small changes this year that will give me ease in small ways. Lotion, swimming, sleeping, water. I graduate June 10. 

Resolutions:

Say no to things that distract me from my goals. 

Swim often. 

Learn to cook a few things!

Make some money. 

Fix my nails. 

Read one whole book for pleasure every month. 

Keep the apartment and garage clean. 

Do laundry on a schedule.

Do mornings on a schedule. 

Work more on apologizing. 

[perfectlearners]

Early Childhood

2- 6 years old

At the age of three, I had a new four-wheel bike and my dad taught me to ride this. As I proudly demonstrated my new skill, I said "Watch how I ride this bike!". I sparkle when I am complimented by my mom for drawing a view of a house and mountain with my pencil and crayons. I always feel good about myself when I show off my intellectual abilities, counting out one to one hundred. I gained a "top " in our class and I am happy that time. I acquire feeling of self-worth because of my interactions with others who are important to me, such as my teacher, and my parents who gave me an immediate positive verbal and visual reinforcement. The center of libido is learning to control bowel and bladder movements. I failed in this stage. Wanna know why? When I was in kinder, grade one and three, I always poop on my underwear. The most embarrassing moments that happened in my life. When I was in grade four, I started learning how to wash my anus after pooping. I realized how embarrassing is to poop in the underwear. Obviously, this tells why I am always messy on my things and my thoughts-- I failed to surpassed anal stage and I developed shame and doubt. In addition, this was also the most ‘hayahay’ stage that we all ever had. We are just assigned to play and to do some household chores with rewards and recognition. Everytime I behave, they also gave me a rewards and if I failed to so, they will punish me. In this stage, I started to engage in different roles because of watching media. For example, in Super Twins, I always played the role of 'Tine'.

As I developed my capabilities to do more things, I learned how to walk, talk, and do the basic things that I need to learn such as reading, writing, counting and many more through the guide of my mother.  This was also the time when I started to go to school as a pre-school student. I developed my self-concept when I get along with other children, seeing my differences from them especially when it comes to simple things like playing. As a pre-school student, I was being disciplined by my mother to do homeworks and to learn reading and writing by limiting my TV time which was the major source of my entertainment. Also, this was my anal stage in which I am learning to control myself to be independent when it comes to my bowel movements and controlling my bladder and at the same time, I developed shame and doubt as my parents happened to punish me over the things I didn’t mean to do, like accidentally peeing on my bed, dropping the drinking glass, and forgetting to say ‘po’ and ‘opo’ when I’m talking to elderly. Every time I get punished, I will know that I did something wrong in which I started to developed the concept of morality. The good thing I can still remember is that everytime I got punished by my mother and after I cried, she will comfort me and explain why she got angry and punished me so as a little kid, I understand such things and tries my best to avoid being punished again

At an early stage, I have started to show exemplary skills in reading, writing, and counting, as well as deciding what should I do and what should not. This is because of the constant guidance of my relatives who culturally know what's best for me and the heavy exposure to the cartoons I watch on TV. Living with a strict family, I always have to ask for permission, like playing outside. Often times, it comes with a condition. My mom, being the organizer she is, wants me to clean all my mess first. As a result, I have developed the sense of being clean by washing my hands always and cleaning the toilet accordingly. Sometimes, however, they say no. And that is when I will cry to the fullest volume, unaware of the neighborhood who might be sleeping. This is because I still have struggles in thinking logically and understanding others' point of view. As a result, I'm only halfway between having a sense of autonomy, and shame and doubt. But when they say yes, my progress advances. As shown in the picture, my motor skills are being developed, and I slowly learned to be independent by not letting them push the bike anymore. The development of my self-concept now lies with the growing number of people around me, like my parents, other relatives, playmates, and classmates at school.

From the ages of 2-6 years old, I have learnt to develop a sense of awareness to my identity including gender, temperance, mental capacity and self-concept. A usual 3 to 5 year old is considered as a ‘yard kid’, where they are allowed to play outdoors and explore themselves, but I was different, for I was not fond of going outdoors to play with the other kids. I played alone or watched cartoons with my cousins and my parents for I only find comfort and safety inside our home. The idea that I am introverted was vivid at this stage, I usually get anxious whenever I spoke to someone I have newly met. Between my parents, it was my father whom I am more comfortable to be with, he was with me during my symbolic and pretend play moments, as well as during my learning stage. I remembered those times when he instructed me to recite the letters in the alphabet while holding a long piece of wooden stick. Once I recited the letters wrong, I will be whipped, a punishment which I guess was somehow effective for I become a disciplined one, a personality I am bringing until today. Regardless of the punishments I have received from my father, I still saw him as a role model, that’s why it seems like we connect and relate most of the time compared to my mom.

Since I started to learn how to talk, I’ve always loved talking! From talking, I developed that I can also sing. In the picture, that was the 3-year-old me singing in church. At the age of 3, I started going to a daycare school where I enjoyed interacting with other kids my age. At age 4, I entered preparatory in a bigger school. Here, I found people that turned into my friends. When with them, I started to differentiate myself from them, and realized that I was a unique individual with my large curly hair and big round eyes. My teacher taught us how to read, write, and count; after school I always want my parents to know what I learned that day by demonstrating it to them, challenging them to test me. That time I enjoyed going to school that my dependence on my parents decreased as I became a preschooler who wanted to discover more things more by herself with the world around her. I started to choose my own clothes and have my favorite food. I also discovered that I like performing that I always join in our mini classroom activities. Thankfully, my parents just let me experiment things to help me discover the things I can do giving me autonomy and initiative to choose. But of course, I was still young, so in any way possible my parents still taught me new things, such as toilet-training, and telling me to clean the toys after playing. I do remember having a television this time, but my brother and I can only watch if we slept after lunch. I can remember that I was always thinking that the characters on my favorite cartoon shows were real, and I always liked to be like them and do what they can do and because of watching too much on TV, my parents limited our time with it, and helped us focus more on studying.

COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS

Our early childhood days are one of the best stages that we all have passed. This was the learning stage of our young and little minds. As we learned how to talk, run, walk and other skills like riding a bike, we became more excited about those skills that made us more playful as we love to repeat everything we can do. Also, by learning how to do basic counting, memorizing the alphabet, and basic reading, we developed the feeling of self-worth and achievement especially that everytime we gain positive reinforcement from our parents, just like what Tine told. However, some of us also experienced punishment as a form of discipline and as a part of teaching strategy from our parents  just like we have all  experienced in different ways such as limiting our time in watching TV, whipping with the use of stick just like what Joanna experienced and scolding us every time we misbehave. From those punishments, we learned the concept of what is right and wrong, but as a kid we tend to be self-centered on the things and decisions we made because just like what Joshua said, we still have difficulties to think logically and understanding others during this stage. Moreover, this was the stage where we have undergone potty training in which some of us find this kind of self control difficult and as a result, we happened to have one of the most embarrassing moments in life like peeing in our pants and accidentally pooping in our underwear just like what Tine experienced. For Joshua, he successfully passed this stage in a more good way than most of us and as a result, he was successfully trained to be an organized person. During this stage, we also achieved the autonomy vs. shame and doubt. Des, Joshua, and Joanna developed shame and doubt as they are being punished every time they are misbehaving and being mischievous while Tine and Amor built autonomy as they started to feel their independency from their parents to choose simple things that they prefer. Lastly, we all developed things based on the level of our awareness about the things that we like or we don’t like. We became more clear in demanding for the things that we want not unlike before from infancy stage in which what we can only do is to cry whenever we need or we ask for something. Tine developed to learn simple household chores as an exchange for positive reinforcements. Joshua developed his awareness on the things he preferred and he needs such as food, toys, clothes and other simple things. Amor developed her talents in memorizing and reciting poems and singing. In this stage, we all just love to play and have fun with our toys and playmates.

[bmp-slbp-matchup]

50 More Interesting Questions

Rules: fill this out and tag at least one person you’d like to know more about! Or just fill it out! Or don’t! Answer only some of them! Make up your own questions! “What kind of requirement is that”, you ask? A reasonable one! Who am I to tell you what to do? Anything goes!

(authored by @cavern-of-bells, answering them was so fun!)

Tagged by the lovely @belxsar, Thank you, I really enjoyed reading your answers.♡

1. What kind of food can’t you stand?: I can't eat fish and legumes.

2. If you could choose one minor inconvenience to never have to deal with again, what would you pick?: Lose hair on the floor, I hate it.

3. Have you got any useless talents?: Nothing really comes to my mind.

4. If you could be really really good at one thing, what would it be?: Comforting people or making them happy.

5. Name a few people you think are extremely good-looking: Lauren Cohan, Scarlett Johansson, and also two girls I randomly saw once and they had things others would maybe consider "flaws", but I think those were what made me think they were so beautiful and didn't allow me to forget their faces.

6. What was your favorite way to pass the time as a kid?: Videogames and I also read a lot! But depends on the age, I also had my Barbie phase.

7. What is something you’re proud of?: I don't want to sound pretentious, but nothing comes to my mind that could make me proud.

8. What’s one character flaw in people that you just can’t tolerate?: Hypocrisy

9. Do you consider yourself to be more of a leader or a follower?:   I'm more of a loner.

10. What kind of student are/were you?: I wasn't the most exemplary student, except in elementary school. I skipped classes, only went to those I thought were necessary and the same with homework. However I always knew when I could afford that and when not and usually had good grades.

11. Butterfly effect question! Has there ever been a seemingly minor decision you’ve made (at the time) that ended up having a profound influence on your life?: I don't think so, maybe even the other way round.

12. Name your most irrational fear/aversion: hahah, which one

13. Are there any fictional characters you find especially relatable?: Yeah, or more many traits or situations they find themselves in.

14. If you drink, what kind of drunk are you? Alternatively, what sort of person are you at parties?: I'm definitely not "the loud one", but I'm also not too quiet, usually involved in most of the conversations. I also try to be always polite no matter what and don't take advantage of anything.

15. Do you fall in love easily? Or does it usually take a long time for you to trust someone?:   I don't trust and fall in love easily. To be honest, I can't even imagine to be so smitten by a real person someone for that to be the case.

16. Would you rather have one close friend or 100 casual friends?: One close friend, also I'm horrible at maintaining relationships because of who I am as a person (: (: (:

17. Do you consider yourself to be more of a slob or a neat-freak?: 100% neat-freak.

18. Describe a place (imaginary or real) that you would find incredibly cozy: Warm home with big windows, big couches and a big carpet. It's at night and snowing heavily outside, but the room is warm and smells of candles.

19. Do you have kids? If not, do you want them someday?: I don't have kids and I don't want any.

20. What was your favorite book as a child? I don't think I had a favorite one.

21. Name one thing you just don’t get what all the hype is about: Any kind of new film, like Twilight or the 50 Shades thing.

22. Name one thing that you think is tragically underrated: Helpfulness, selfless favors.

23. If you had to be glued to a person for a month, real or fictional (who you have never met), who would you choose?: For a month D:  I'd rather not!

24. What’s something you’d like the chance to do someday?: I would love to meet native inhabitants of somewhere and have a conversation with them.

25. Do you typically speak your mind when you have a controversial opinion? Or do generally prefer to not rock the boat?: I usually speak my mind to make my position clear, but I don't try to convince anyone most of the times.

26. What’s the dumbest fad you’ve been caught up in?: Ahhh, some website, what a waste of time.

27. What’s something you thought was cool as a kid/adolescent, but now cringe at yourself for?: Things I said and the way I behaved.

28. What’s a trait you consider to be very admirable?: Fortitude.

29. Is there a particular kind of item people always tend to give you as gifts? (For instance, people always get you things with ducks on them because you like ducks, etc.): Anything with lace and things that have to do with stuff I'm into at that time.

30. Do you speak multiple languages? Which ones?: I do. German, English, Turkish and French.

31. Would you rather live in the big city or the countryside?: The city I guess.

32. Has there ever been something you were certain you’d hate, but ended up loving?: Maybe some insignificant things as a child, but otherwise I'm quite sure about what I will like and what not.

33. Do you mind being the center of attention, or do you prefer the spotlight to be on someone else?: It depends on the issue, but I generally dislike when the attention is focused on a single person, whatever the reason.

34. Favorite holiday?: None, I don't care much about holidays.

35. Are you a more go-with-the-flow type of person, or do you need to have things planned meticulously?: I like everything planned and am often disappointed when it comes to workarounds.

36. Is there something you loved so much you wish you could forget it and experience it all over again? (A tv show, book, series–anything.): Nope.

37. What hobbies do you have?: My faaaaaaaavorite questioooooooon!(ಠ﹏ಠ) Videogames and otome.

38. If you could have a superpower, but it was only mildly useful, what ability would you want to have?: Flying! Which would be dangerous when mildly useful, so uh... time-travelling? Which would be dangerous, too...... Let's drop that.

39. Something people are always surprised to learn about you: My nationality for some reason.

40. Something that took you way too long to figure out: What many abbreviations stand for!

41. Worst injury you’ve had?: nononononono don't wanna think about it

42. Any morbid fascinations?: Morbid? Nope, but I'm extremely interested in anything that involves cultures and ethnology.

43. Describe your sense of humor: absurd, makes no sense at all, insider jokes.

44. If you had to be born in another era/place, which would you choose?: Middle-Ages in the East, 50s in the West

45. Something you are irredeemably bad at: Singing. Me singing might be a crime. Good that I never do it.

46. Something that sucked but you’re glad you went through: School stuff. I achieved the best graduation, but it wasn't too easy!

47. Would you rather have a really godawful ugly tattoo in a place that is only slightly inconvenient to conceal with clothing (upper arm, thigh, etc.), or the coolest, most beautiful tattoo ever in the middle of your face? (Neither tattoo can be removed or concealed with makeup, and the ugly tattoo will deeply offend anyone who sees it.): The former, it's easier to hide.

48. Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist?: I'm a freakin realist I suppose.

49. What would be the most flattering compliment someone could give you?: That I inspire them or that they love having conversations with me.

50. Something you feel people often misunderstand about you: That I don't behave the way I do because I "judge" them, but because I simply don't want to talk at that moment or my facial expression is just...like...my face, you know?  I hate hearing “I’m sure you hate me right now.”, like nah my dude i simply couldn’t care less.

Thanks for reading, I’d like to tag @dreamfar628 @rose-of-yonezawa @bulbaqueen @viridian99 @perkypan @hoebunaga

Only if you feel like doing it of course :)

[meghanmcguire]

My Harvey

“The patriarchy is built on our silence, but there is undeniable feminist power in storytelling. If you can, speak up. Share your experiences of sexism, big and small. Take on the cost for all of the women who can’t. Be aware of the forces working against you, and feel righteous in your choice to defy them. It is in amplifying the female perspective that we will create a sea change in the cultural conversation. By exchanging our personal narratives, we can build communities and bolster one another with reams of evidence that make the impact of the patriarchy impossible to ignore. As women in this country, our very existence is defined by the experience of everyday sexism. I don’t know how to change that, but I’m certain that the solution starts with talking about it.” –Lauren Duca

  So we’ve been having this Harvey Weinstein conversation (and somehow it’s Hillary Clinton’s fault). And it’s been making me think of my Harvey. Anne T. Donahue (on whom I have the biggest talent crush) asked women to start sharing their Harvey Weinstein stories – not actually with Harvey Weinstein, but instances when men in positions of power took advantage of women. It made me think of my 12th grade history teacher.

At first, I thought my story wasn’t serious enough, because it wasn’t gross or graphic. And the comments made about me were never explicitly sexual. But they were based on my gender, made to make me feel inferior, and I was in such a position, where I felt as though I couldn’t speak out against him.

I’ll call him Mr. Buck, because I still fear retribution from him to this day. It has been 4 years since he was my teacher, and yet…I am still terrified of him.

It started on my first day of senior year. The week before I had emailed Mr. Buck, because I was having trouble with his summer reading. There were approximately 1,000 pages of reading, if not more, and no, I’m not exaggerating. I asked him how to best prioritize my reading to get the most out of it (and, yes, maybe trying to figure out which reading assignments to skip). In addition to the reading, he had also assigned a paper due on the first day of class and a test on the second day. He responded somewhat helpfully, telling me that the Communist Manifesto was the most important, and then rattling off a few more things.

Fine, I thought to myself, I’ll start with Marx. I continued to slog through the reading assignments, blowing off trips to the beach and time with my family in favor of burying my nose in the history of the Russian Revolution.

I showed up to the first day of school, somewhat exhausted, but confident that I had done enough to have stable footing in the class.

I was walking down the hallway with a group of freshmen I was helping orient when I heard my name.

“McGuire!” A signature Mr. Buck move. I approached him, letting my group of freshmen head back to the auditorium.

“How’s my little stress kitten doing?”

RECORD SCRATCH

SILENCE.

“Um fine.”

“I’ve never read an email more desperate and scared in my life. I could feel the tears coming through it.”

“Haha, yeah I’m doing much better.”

I tried to convince myself it was a joke. Classic Mr. Buck.

At home that night, I told my mom who had helped me compose that ever so desperate and scared email about what happened in the hall that day.

“He called you what?”

“Stress kitten,” I laughed, trying to convince myself and her that it was funny.

“Ew.”

I should have dropped the class right then and there. I didn’t need the credit. I was taking another honors level Humanities course, but I was determined to prove him wrong. I wasn’t a stress kitten, and I wasn’t going to let him think that I was.

What followed was the most painful and tortuous 9 months of my life. I showed him my weakness and insecurity at the beginning of the year in hopes that would help me in the class, but he just set in on my like a shark, smelling blood in the water.

Some of it was classic. He told me to smile more in class, saying, “You’re an actor show me what it looks like when you’re happy.” He called me an ice queen when I didn’t smile.

When I answered a question he posed in class, he would question me “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure.” “Don’t lie to me,” he’d say, “I hate it when women lie to me.” He never challenged a point made by another student like that.

When we would ask him why he assigned so much homework, he would tell us to it was to keep us from getting pregnant.

He would call historical figures bitches and whores. Joan of Arc was “That bitch from France” and Marie Antoinette was “Austrian whore.”

And after I got a D on what I maintain to this day was an unfair midterm, he came up to me in the hallway with his hands held out like he was going to choke me. He didn’t touch me, thank god, but he mimed it, before asking my friend “Can I borrow McGuire? I need to shout at her.” Why did I go with him?  I don’t know. He then proceeded to wave my 69% (nice) in my face, saying “Look at this!” I was alone in a classroom with him, and I was terrified. He claimed he did it, because he knew I could do better, and he wanted to push me. Trust me when I say that I was already pushing myself pretty hard.

I was supposed to laugh it off, because he was a tough teacher and that’s how he jokes with his students.

My mom kept insisting that we talk to someone – the department head, the principal, another teacher of any kind, but I didn’t want to stir the pot. Even if I kept myself anonymous, he would still find a way to figure out it was me, and he would make class even worse for me.

I was worried that speaking out would affect my grades, that sudden fall from grace as an exemplary history student would mean that colleges would change their minds about me, that Denison wouldn’t want me anymore, that I was doomed. And I didn’t want to take that risk.

It wasn’t until I had my diploma in hand and was settled at college that my mom sent her letter, detailing the different ways Mr. Buck had harassed me in the previous year, the things he had said, how other students had asked me “Why does he hate you so much?” She told them about how I had had a mental health crisis and had been tested for many chronic illness, because of the fallout of his treatment. After a month of the letter being out in the universe, we were met with the same old jargon, “We were surprised by these allegations” and “he’s always kind to his female co-workers” and “He rags on all his students and all historical figures regardless of gender.”

I like to think maybe he changed, maybe it was special circumstances. Maybe my mom’s letter showed him the light.

What I do know is that I’m still scared to run into him. There’s always the possibility in Small Town, Maine, where everyone you’ve ever known is at the bakery or the grocery store. What would he say to me?

I know my experience isn’t as severe as other women’s stories of harassment, but the story is, in many ways, the same. It’s another goddamn example of men in power taking advantage of women. They put us in a position where we feel like we have to acquiesce, where we have to stay silent, because our careers, our education, our social life. They take advantage of our ambition, of our goals, and our weaknesses. They expect us to stay silent, because they have the power, and we give them more power. Well, I’m gonna take some back for myself, thank you.

[nighted-mist]

Undertow Ch. 1

Undertow Summary:

Hisui had known, to some extent, what he was getting into by shoving Tokoyami out of the way, when he noticed that the masked asshole with the containment Quirk was gunning for the kid. But he wasn't expecting the price for escaping the League of Villains with Bakugou in tow to be quite so high.

Pairing: Dabi/Hisui

Chapter 1 Summary:

“I’m here ‘cause I wanna uphold Stain’s ideals.” Dabi pulled back enough to catch Hisui’s gaze again. He tilted his head a bit, causing the dull lighting to shimmer off the three small studs that pierced his right nostril.

“And you think Shigaraki’s the way to do that?” Hisui asked, skeptical.

“Sweetheart,” Dabi said, sounding much too bitter for his age; and Hisui would know, since he’d grown up around jaded Heroes from Gran Torino’s era. “Guys like me gotta work with what we get.”

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

The world expanded; or Hisui was expanding, and the blackness bled back into light and color. Suddenly, he was standing — thank god he was still standing, after whatever that masked asshole did — in a rundown bar. The poor lighting made it hard for Hisui to notice anything in a glance except the dull, polished shine on the wooden surfaces, like the bar and the shelves behind it, which only drew attention to the Villains surrounding him. Hisui kept himself painfully still, his muscles aching with the effort of it, of ignoring the adrenaline and the deafening thunder of his pulse egging his instincts to movemovemove.

He turned his head slowly, purposefully, looking around for a headcount: Bakugou, the masked asshole, a lizard man, a girl in a high school uniform, a guy with a dual-colored mask, a guy who looked like an okama, a scarred guy, that black mist guy from the U.S.J. report, and right in front of him, the supposed point man for the League of Villains himself. Shigaraki Tomura.

“…Senpai?” Bakugou said quietly, his voice gruff and hesitant. Hisui glanced at Bakugou’s stiff form to aim a brief, warning look at him. Bakugou’s jaw clenched noticeably, but the normally explosive teen shifted a half step to the side, so he was just behind Hisui’s shoulder. That was probably the best deference Hisui could hope for, from him.

“Senpai?” Shigaraki rasped, leaning in until the disembodied hand on his face almost brushed Hisui’s cheek. Hisui clenched his fist, forcing himself not to flinch. “What the hell, Compress? Why’d you pick up an extra brat?”

It was a good thing Hisui’s nails were already digging into his palm; he might’ve reacted to the “brat” comment, otherwise. If Shigaraki thought he was a high school student, it worked in his favor to let that misassumption continue…even if it did piss him off to be mistaken for a teenager.

“My apologies.” The masked asshole, Compress, dipped the brim of his top hat. “There was another student with a strong Quirk I was planning to pick up, but senpai here did an exemplary job sacrificing himself for his kohai.”

“Oh? How…heroic,” Shigaraki sneered around his hand-mask. “So cool, senpai.”

“…This is a recruitment effort, then?” Hisui said, managing to speak steadily. “Bakugou was your target; discrediting U.A. and Pros in general is just a plus.”

Though he’d half-expected it, based on previous reports of Shigaraki’s personality, Hisui still choked when Shigaraki’s hand hit his throat and wrapped under his jaw. He could feel four points of contact, the scrape of cracked finger pads and the painful snag of raggedly bitten nails against his skin. Predictably, the finger Shigaraki had chosen to leave up as a warning was the one just inside Hisui’s range of limited vision.

“Annoying,” Shigaraki growled. “You know what I hate almost as much as Heroes?” He leaned forward so his blood-red eyes glinted between the fingers of his hand-mask. Hisui almost gagged at the smell of him, at the stale smell of rot and death. “Smartass kids like you who think they know everything.”

Hisui swallowed reflexively, felt his throat bob against Shigaraki’s dry palm. Over the thunderous roar of his pulse, he heard the humming click of a TV turning on, and the familiar, deep drone of Shouta’s voice. Hisui had worked behind the scenes of enough Hero ops to know that the media was the best way to misdirect and distract criminals and Villains. If U.A. was holding a press conference now, that meant…

“You know,” Hisui said conversationally, as though his voice wasn’t raspy from the chokehold on his throat, or that his jaw didn’t ache. “You really should’ve done your homework before attacking U.A. again. You’re stupid if you think Bakugou has any desire to become a Villain; that you are capable of persuading him to be one.”

“Damn straight,” Bakugou said, a snarl in his voice.

“And,” Hisui continued, feeling Shigaraki’s fingers flex on his jaw. “If you knew who I am, you wouldn’t be standing so close to me.”

“Arrogant brat— ”

Hisui grabbed Shigaraki’s wrist, the one attached to the hand at his throat, and drained as much stamina as he could. Shigaraki’s hold loosened, allowing Hisui to wrench it away from his jaw just as Bakugou came from the side to blast Shigaraki in the face.

“Take that, asshole!” Bakugou snarled. Shigaraki flew back into the bar counter with enough force to knock the hand-mask off his face. “Like hell you fucks can get me to join you!”

Hisui brushed a hand against Bakugou’s bare arm, transferring some stamina over to the kid. He exhaled softly in relief as the nausea he usually felt when overstocking on stamina receded. Bakugo didn’t react to the boost, though Hisui hadn’t expected him to; the kid was probably too hyped up on adrenaline to notice it.

“Hold up,” said the scarred guy, leashing the tension that was ready to spill over into an all-out brawl. The tension felt tangible, like invisible rubber bands everybody in the room was straining against. The anticipation of a fight electrified the air and made him, and it looked like everyone else, twitchy. “Let me check somethin’.”

To Hisui’s knowledge, there wasn’t an indicator for when he drained stamina from, or transferred stamina to other people. He knew his eyes glowed when he used Regeneration on himself or others, but his Quirk overall was subtle, compared to Granny Chiyo’s.

Apparently, that slight contact with Bakugou was enough of a tell for one of the Villains.

Scarred Guy shifted closer, stopping a safe distance away as he tilted his head and gave Hisui a onceover. Hisui would’ve classified his gaze as “appraising,” if he didn’t recognize the beginnings of a leer on the guy’s face. A leer, Hisui had discovered in his second year of high school, caused a person’s lips — guy or girl — to tug at a very specific, sharp angle upwards, so that a smile or a grin became suggestive instead of sincere. Seeing one never failed to make his skin crawl.

But Scarred Guy’s leer made Hisui’s skin prickle, like he’d been out in the cold for too long and was suddenly getting warmed up. It was a surprisingly not unpleasant sensation.

“Yep. Thought I recognized him,” Scarred Guy said in a self-satisfied drawl.

“Don’t be an asshole.” The second masked guy, the one with a dual-colored mask, shoved Scarred Guy’s shoulder. “Say who he is already!”

“Chill, man.” Scarred Guy shoved Dual-Colored Mask back. “You’re Jinx, aren’t you?” he said to Hisui. “Rumor has it you’re related to Recovery Girl.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Hisui smiled tightly. “But yes, I’m Jinx. I’m surprised you recognize me.”

Though he’d never checked his rank, Hisui was certain he fell rather low on the Chart. It gave him a certain degree of anonymity, which he appreciated, since unlike the popular Pros — such as Toshi-san and the Top 10 — it meant he wouldn’t have enemies. Hisui could go around in public like an average civilian; or in his case, like a normal, twenty-year-old college student.

He had no idea how Scarred Guy was able to recognize him, much less manage to hear a “rumor” about his connection with Granny Chiyo. The guy was either really good at gathering intel, or there was a security breach. Most likely, there was a breach. If they — the Heroes and the Police Force — were lucky, then it was the same breach that resulted in the U.S.J. attack and this one, an attack on a secure, need-to-know high school training camp hosted by a team of Pros.

But Hisui knew better than to bank his hope on luck in this business. Toshi-san was a prime example of how Heroes didn’t always come out on top; or sometimes, even when they did, it didn’t always feel like a victory.

“I watched you work, a couple years ago. Gotta say, you’ve filled out since then.” Scarred Guy’s gaze lingered on Hisui’s chest.

Belatedly, Hisui realized the neckline of his shirt had been ripped at some point between the Villains’ initial attack in the forest and his capture. It was a good thing he wasn’t a girl; the tear exposed his collarbone, and dipped low enough on his chest to be considered indecent. Hisui traced his fingers along the jagged tear of the fabric pressed to his chest, and felt the familiar, warm stickiness of blood. The cut had already healed, but it must’ve been fairly deep if the leftover blood was still warm. He was also very aware of how Scarred Guy’s eyes followed his fingers, and the heat in them. Hisui didn’t know what Scarred Guy found attractive about him, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use it to his advantage.

“You… You fucking smug bastard,” Shigaraki growled as he unsteadily pulled himself out of the bar counter, adjusting the placement of the hand-mask on his face. “Are you fucking flirting right now?”

“Well,” Scarred Guy shrugged, “it’s not like we’re doin’ much now, right?”

Shigaraki looked ready to dust his own teammate; or was Scarred Guy a subordinate? In any case, the other Villains seemed to be distracted by their byplay. Hisui caught Bakugou’s eye and nodded.

They lunged at the same time. Bakugou aimed for Dual-Colored Mask, while Hisui went for Compress. The black mist guy and Compress had to be taken out first, since Mist Guy could keep him and Bakugou trapped in this room, while Compress could capture them again.

Compress nimbly leapt up to dodge Hisui’s kick, steadying his hat as he landed. “Dabi never did mention what your Quirk is,” he said mildly as he darted forward with an outstretched arm.

Hisui diverted Compress’ path with a block to the forearm, and followed up with quick jabs to several pressure points in reach. “Figuring it out is half the fun.”

Compress jumped back, out of reach, and inspected the arm hanging limply at his side. “You really are a jinx, aren’t you?”

A black blur rammed into Hisui’s side before he could respond, and shoved him against the wall farthest from the commotion Bakugou was causing. Hisui gasped, and in the handful of seconds he was disoriented, found himself pinned to the wall by Scarred Guy — Dabi.

Dabi’s hands were dry and rough against Hisui’s wrists, but it was a dry roughness different from Shigaraki’s. Where Shigaraki’s skin was cracked like a craggy rock face, Dabi’s was smoother, like flint or wood ready to spark into flame.

Dabi smiled lazily as he pressed close to Hisui without actually making contact. The thin space between their bodies did nothing to diminish the intense, almost overwhelming heat emanating from Dabi. He had a fire Quirk, if Hisui remembered right; he could blast blue fire from his hands. Hisui had never had his hands burned off before, but there was a first time for everything. It wasn’t like he had a choice. He inhaled deeply to gather himself, and—

“Ah ah ah,” Dabi chided, tightening his hands around Hisui’s wrists like flexible steel bands. Metal piercings dug uncomfortable grooves into Hisui’s skin, and Dabi’s grip seemed to grind the fine bones of his wrists together. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart. Can’t have you and Explosion boy over there wreckin’ the place up; though it’d make my day to see Hands-Freak flip his shit some more.”

Bakugou was doing well so far keeping the other Villains busy, and Compress was off to the side with Mist Guy, nursing his arm…or he was waiting for an opening to use his Quirk on Bakugou. It was hard to tell, with the mask. Since Bakugou seemed fine for now, Hisui decided it was worth trying to use Dabi’s strange fascination with him to angle for information.

“You don’t like Shigaraki,” Hisui noted, letting his arms go loose and pliant in Dabi’s hands. Dabi hummed and shifted closer; he smelled like smoke and burnt wood. If Hisui wanted, it wouldn’t take any effort at all to tear his teeth into Dabi’s throat, or follow the piercing-lined seam of pale skin and scarred purple flesh with his tongue. “Why— Why’re you working with him, then?” he asked, suddenly more aware of Dabi.

“I know what you’re doin’,” Dabi said, amusement coloring his voice and glinting in his bright blue eyes. This close, Dabi’s eyes looked unnaturally blue, like his eyes were stained glass that had a fire burning from inside. Hisui was startled to notice how pretty they were, and if they’d belonged to anyone other than a Villain, he would’ve said so aloud. But Dabi was a Villain, and Hisui had three main priorities: gather information, protect Bakugou, and get them both out of here.

“Yeah?” Hisui held Dabi’s half-lidded gaze steadily, ignoring how his stomach was twisting into knots that had no business showing up during a fight. “Is it working?”

“Saa,” Dabi sighed, dipping his head closer to nose Hisui’s jaw. “If only we’d met anywhere else…”

Hisui clenched his jaw. It was adrenaline, he sternly told himself, the anticipation for a fight, that was making his heart race. Over Dabi’s shoulder, he could see Bakugou getting herded to one side of the room, the side closest to the door. The Villains were confident in their ability — or Mist Guy’s ability — to keep Bakugou contained, if they were letting him get so close to freedom.

“I’m here ‘cause I wanna uphold Stain’s ideals.” Dabi pulled back enough to catch Hisui’s gaze again. He tilted his head a bit, causing the dull lighting to shimmer off the three small studs that pierced his right nostril.

“And you think Shigaraki’s the way to do that?” Hisui asked, skeptical.

“Sweetheart,” Dabi said, sounding much too bitter for his age; and Hisui would know, since he’d grown up around jaded Heroes from Gran Torino’s era. “Guys like me gotta work with what we get.”

Dabi’s phrasing raised a few flags, but Hisui wasn’t in any position to work through them. It was time to get himself free and help out Bakugou, since the kid sounded like he was in trouble.

Hisui balanced on the soles of his feet — Dabi’s hands tightened again on his wrists, but allowed the movement — and leaned in to whisper, “Can you work with this?”

He gently nosed the line of piercings and wrinkled purple skin on Dabi’s cheek, copying his earlier gesture. Dabi shivered and seemed to strain under his touch; when Hisui paused at Dabi’s lips, his breath hitched noticeably. His behavior was odd: weren’t Villains supposed to do whatever they wanted, when they wanted?

Without meeting Dabi’s eyes, Hisui carefully pressed their lips together. It felt…different. Dabi’s top lip felt like normal skin, lightly chapped; his bottom lip was rougher, drier, but still soft, like old leather.

Dabi went still against him— and that was good, it was the reaction Hisui wanted. Growing up around Granny Chiyo and watching her work decreased the meaning, the emotional value of kisses for Hisui. A kiss was supposed to mean affection, and in some instances, it did; but to Hisui, a kiss primarily meant healing. While Hisui mainly activated his Quirk using his hands, he was able to do so with his lips too, since, as Granny Chiyo liked to remind him, his Quirk was an evolved form of her own. And that didn’t just mean his healing ability was stronger.

But before Hisui could drain any stamina, Dabi surged forward. He pried Hisui’s lips apart, and suddenly his tongue was in Hisui’s mouth, hot and wet and demanding. Dabi was everywhere: pressed against him, inside of him, and Hisui had to remind himself to breathe before he could think about using his Quirk. Dabi’s piercings suddenly scraped against his chin and dug into Hisui’s wrists, the latter a startling reminder that snapped Hisui out of the heated daze Dabi had overwhelmed him with. Hisui latched onto Dabi’s tongue, curling his own around it as he started draining stamina.

Dabi caught on to what was happening faster than Hisui anticipated, and pulled away with a sharp inhale. “Fuck…” he growled, his voice rough and sounding like it was pulled out of him as he swayed a bit.

Hisui had taken less stamina from Dabi than he liked, but he made it work. He twisted his wrists free and kicked Dabi into another Villain, the lizard guy. He panted and struggled to regain enough of his composure so he could enter the fight as well.

Then there was a knock on the door, a fake pizza delivery, and Toshi-san burst into the room through the wall a few feet away from him, leading a charge of Pros.

Hisui relaxed a little, because he didn’t have to be on the front lines anymore. He inhaled shakily, and felt steadier as he exhaled. Once he stopped trembling, Hisui pushed off the wall and made his way to Toshi-san.

“Toshi-san,” Hisui greeted, nodding as he stopped near Bakugou.

“Hisui-chan!” Toshi-san beamed. “I’m glad to see you and young Bakugou didn’t suffer any serious injuries while you were held captive. Though, Hisui-chan, you do seem to have some blood, right here…” He swiped a thumb along his lower lip.

“Ah.” Hisui copied the motion with his tongue. He tasted the familiar metallic tang of blood, and tried not to think about Dabi’s lips on his. “Must’ve bit my lip, or something. Anyways, Toshi-san, you know I can’t get serious injuries,” he said, amused.

Toshi-san laughed and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned!”

“True,” Hisui allowed, grinning. He turned to Bakugou, who was watching their conversation with interest. “How’re you doing, Bakugou?”

“…Fine,” he said gruffly, briefly meeting Hisui’s gaze and then looking away. “Thanks for taking care of me, senpai.”

“You can call me Hisui.” Hisui carefully placed a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, and when the kid didn’t tense up or move away, gently squeezed it. “After what we’ve been through together, I think you’ve earned that much, at least.”

Bakugou met Hisui’s gaze, and nodded. There was a glimmer of respect in his eyes, in the relaxed lines of his face and the slouch of his shoulders. Bakugou really was an amazing kid, for keeping himself together as much as he had so far. Hisui hadn’t kept his head nearly as well, the first time he’d gotten abducted; and he hadn’t been abducted by Villains under All For One, just a bunch of white-collar criminals trying to set up some kind of healing Quirk enterprise.

“You both did well!” Toshi-san clapped a hand on each of their shoulders, jostling them both. “And Hisui-chan, Aizawa-kun insisted I give you these. Just in case.” He fiddled with an armband on his right bicep that Hisui hadn’t noticed earlier, unclasped it, and offered it over.

“…Thanks,” Hisui said dryly, taking his utility belt and clipping it around his waist. He was grateful Toshi-san had brought it; he’d left the belt in his room back at the lodge, since he hadn’t thought he’d need it while supervising Class 1-B in the forest during the Test of Courage. Even though the Villains were subdued, he felt better now that he was armed. But he was a little annoyed that Toshi-san had worn it looped twice around his bicep so it clung snugly to the bulge of the largest muscle there, and that he hadn’t recognized his own utility belt while Toshi-san was wearing it like some kind of fashion accessory.

Everything seemed to be wrapping up nicely. Kamui Woods had all the Villains subdued, Mist Guy was neutralized, Gran Torino had knocked Dabi out during the initial attack when he’d looked ready to set the place on fire, Toshi-san was speaking with Gran Torino, Bakugou was fine…

Bakugou gagged suddenly, and black sludge poured out of his mouth.

“Young Bakugou!” Toshi-san lunged for the kid.

As if following a signal, the same black sludge erupted from all of the Villains’ mouths as well. Belatedly, Hisui realized there was a pressure building inside of him; he hunched over and dry-heaved, trying to alleviate the pressure. Instead of tasting bile in the back of his throat, as he normally would when experiencing this kind of pressure, there was something equally acidic and disgustingly viscous forcing its way out of his mouth.

The last thing Hisui saw as he was absorbed into blackness again, was Toshi-san’s stricken, furious face.

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

Notes: Originally posted 3/30/2019

Next up, the showdown with AFO!

I've been wanting to write some Dabi/Hisui for a while now, but I couldn't figure out how I wanted to go about it... Then a couple of months ago I came up with three fic ideas for this pairing.

Anyways, this fic'll is in Hisui's POV. Dabi probably won't do much in the next chapter (since he's K.O.ed courtesy of Gran Torino), but he'll be back up and causing mayhem soon!

Thanks for reading!