#see I went to school to teach English but this particular class is like a community/study skills/intro to hs class
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it’s been a hard first month yall 😕
#SIGHHHHH#now true followers know what I mean but I had my first month of teaching#and calling it hard is an understatement#like the bar exam is hard training for the olympics is hard#this is like both of those things but if both of your hands were tied#I feel like I’m working constantlyyyy and the work life balance feels so nonexistent#and I feel like it’s something that I shouldn’t accept cause no job should be expecting that much#but also I have no choice because wtf else am I supposed to do about the millions of things that need to be done#but even with that it’s just I’m not enjoying it and that’s the one thing that would have kept me going 😕#I enjoyed student teaching and internship but those were vastly different experiences#I know my cooperating teacher played a huge role in me having a positive experience during ST and I used to wonder if I would still like it#without her and I think I’m truly not happy on my own#I see now how much of the heavy lifting she truly did to make me feel like I had a balance in this job so now that’s it’s just me#it’s been like whiplash. like I was able to build strong rapport and have good classroom management through her#and the management has been such a struggle. not as much of a problem with my upperclassmen#but I have these two lower classmen classes that drive me insane#see I went to school to teach English but this particular class is like a community/study skills/intro to hs class#and the students hate it and I do too 😭 the work is not rigorous and frankly it’s boring#and the annoyance with the class is being projected onto me. but no matter how hard I try to make things interesting#the refusal is so blatant like GODDDD WHY DO I EVEN TRY?#I enjoy my English classes so much more cause a) it’s what I went to school for#b) the kids have a much easier time seeing the importance of English + the rigor vs this fucking class#I wanna reach out to you a few of my own mentors just to hear their thoughts on what I should do + other options#cause if you asked me right now I would say that the moment it turns june I would immediately resign#idk I’ve thought about it nonstop and maybe it’s just the specific classes or the subject maybe it’s the school but I’m not happy 😕#and as sad as that makes me feel to say out loud it also feels kind of good to not be in denial about it
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sakuatsu week day 5: college
sakusa is browsing the available courses for next semester when, on a whim, he clicks on the language courses, and notices a particular offering: jsl for beginners.
students will receive a cursory introduction to jsl, says the course description. they will learn the basic alphabet and how to sign simple phrases and sentences. this course meets three times a week. there is only an oral final examination, not a written exam.
his own understanding of jsl is limited to several youtube videos and whatever that his partner taught him. he remembers bits of the alphabet, signs for love you and see you later, but that’s about it. atsumu seldom signs, anyway, since he has hearing aids, but…
there was one time when they went for lunch with osamu. sakusa excused himself to use the washroom, and when he came back, he noticed the twins signing to each other, rapid hand movements that he could barely keep up with. he would never forget atsumu’s expressive face, the way he silently laughed, his eyes crinkled and lips upturned. although he became verbal the instant that sakusa sat back down, the feeling of being left out never left him, fuels him to learn jsl when he can.
and if he can take an entire class for it, why not? he adds it to his schedule.
he doesn’t tell atsumu, wants it to be a surprise. still, when they meet in osaka between semesters, he asks him for another lesson. “i didn’t know ya were interested,” atsumu drawls. sakusa sits between his legs, head rested on his chest.
“i want to be able to communicate with you.”
“aren’t we doin’ that right now?”
“i want to do it in a language that you’re comfortable with,” he amends, tilting his chin upwards to look at him. “i know you get overwhelmed sometimes, but you keep your hearing aids in, for my sake. i don’t want you to sacrifice your comfort for me. plus, jsl is just another way to connect, just like writing or talking.”
atsumu returns his gaze with such softness that sakusa fears his partner might cry. “aw, omi. i think yer the only person i know that’s willin’ ta learn.”
“not even your brother?”
“ma forced us. i become non-verbal without my hearin’ aids, an’ ma wanted a way fer all o’ us ta communicate when that happened.” atsumu kisses his forehead. “d’ya still remember the alphabet? i’ll teach ya how ta sign yer name.”
when the next semester starts, sakusa sits among his peers, watching and listening their instructor sign her introduction. “my name is taniyama kaede.” her gestures are fluid, similar to atsumu’s. “i’m a certified bilingual translator for english, japanese, asl, and jsl. let’s have everyone else introduce themselves and share their reason for learning jsl.”
sakusa waits for his turn. “my name is sakusa kiyoomi. i’m a sports medicine major. i want to learn jsl because my partner is hard of hearing and i want to be able to communicate with him.” it’s a similar reason to many of his peers, with a few simply interested in learning for the sake of knowing another language.
they start with the alphabet, which sakusa has reinforced while with atsumu. after that comes fingerspelling, stringing the individual letters together. it’s easy for him to do, but difficult to interpret, especially if it’s fast. he’s tempted to ask atsumu for help but refrains, wanting to savor the look on his partner’s face when they meet and he can sign a conversation with him. instead, he returns to youtube, watches countless clips of interpreters using fingerspelling to practice differentiating between the signs.
after fingerspelling comes fundamental signs that would help them create sentences. sakusa finds himself in a study group with his classmates so they could practice, and with each passing week, he finds himself in awe of atsumu, who learned such a complex language along with japanese. “i didn't get hearin' aids ‘till elementary school,” he told him once. “i had ta learn jsl and how ta speak at the same time. it wasn’t easy, lemme tell ya. if i didn’t have ‘samu, i woulda broke down cryin’ every day.”
sakusa practices with his study group, in front of the mirror after showering, while watching tutorial videos before bed. a semester is barely enough for him to grasp the basics, but when he sits in front of his instructor for his final exam, she tells him that he did well. “we only have an introductory level here,” she says, “but if you’d like to learn more, i teach classes at the language center not far from here.”
"i'd like that." he bows his head. “thank you for the semester. i learned a lot.”
as soon as his last exam is finished, he boards the shinkansen to osaka. atsumu waits for him on the platform, as always, greeting him with open arms. “missed ya, love,” he murmurs in his ear.
“i missed you, too.” sakusa hugs him tightly.
he can tell that atsumu is overwhelmed, from the clammy hand that envelops his, the way he winces at every noise that crosses their path. he starts mumbling and sakusa has to lean closer to hear, or ask him to repeat himself, to which atsumu would apologize and say it again. by the time they reach his apartment, his partner’s face is shiny with sweat, biting his bottom lip in pain.
“atsumu.” sakusa steps closer in front of him. “you can take your hearing aids off.”
“but i wanna hear yer voice,” he tries to argue, but sakusa shakes his head.
“i’m here all week. if you aren’t feeling well, you shouldn’t push yourself. besides…” he raises his hands, speaking as he signs, “i’m here for you.”
atsumu stares, flabbergasted. he instinctively raises his own hands, hesitates for a moment, and then signs and asks, “when did ya learn that?”
“i took a class to learn jsl. i intend to continue learning.” sakusa feels heat rush to his cheeks as he adds, “i love you, and i want us to communicate, no matter the language. i’m not very good yet, but i’ll learn and improve.”
tears form at the corners of his partner’s eyes. sakusa panics, closing the gap between them. “i’m sorry, i should’ve gotten you some medicine first. here, let’s–“
“nah, it’s not from that. i…wasn’t lyin’ when i said yer the first person that wanted ta learn.” atsumu sniffles, tears rolling down his cheeks. “ya’d really learn a whole ‘nother language, just fer me?”
“of course. what kind of partner am i, if i don’t?”
atsumu gives a tiny shake of his head, leans in close. “i don’t deserve ya, omi. i really don’t.”
sakusa lowers his head over his, stroking his hair. “you deserve the best. atsumu.”
he orders takeout while atsumu takes his hearing aids off, joining him on the couch. even though they’re silent, his partner is expressive as ever, from his grimace when sakusa tells him about his exams, eager nods when he describes the practice match against chuo, quiet chuckles when he critiques motoya’s newest hobby of mixing drinks. their dinner arrives, and they watch a movie with subtitles, cuddling for the rest of the night.
as they fall under the covers to sleep, atsumu taps on sakusa’s shoulder. “thank you,” he signs slowly for him to follow. “i love you, omi.”
“i love you, too.” sakusa doesn’t even need to think, the signs already engrained in his muscle memory. no matter the language or the circumstance, he’ll do what he need to, in order to tell his partner just how much he loves him.
#flyingwargle original#drabble#haikyuu!!#haikyuu drabble#post timeskip#miya atsumu#sakusa kiyoomi#sakuatsu#sakuatsuweek2024#deaf atsumu#we love and respect partners who go out of their way to learn a new language to communicate with their partners
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AITA for almost killing my 8th grade english teacher? (warning: racism, sa mention)
I (M16, 14 at the time, white (this is important later)) was part of the newspaper in middle school. The teacher running the newspaper (F… 50? 60? i have no idea) was always really nice to me, and we got along really well. I was ecstatic to see that she would be my english teacher in 8th grade.
That is, until the class actually began.
This english class we mostly read books about oppression and historical atrocities and genocide because our history class wouldn’t cover that for some reason (the reason is racism). It seemed like this teacher would have done a good job of teaching this material, but well. you can see where this is going.
a week into the school year the whole class saw that she was pretty racist - not like overtly racist; she sort of said she cared about fighting oppression and then… was a part of that oppression. like she’d say “i could never be racist” and then she would be racist. it’s hard to explain. she would always be incredibly weird about disciplining the Black kids in the class, blaming one guy in particular for like. every time a guy in the class acted like and eighth grade boy would act. she was also really condescending to him; she’d constantly make comments about how he couldn’t follow rules (which obviously isn’t true). she did this to an extent to all the other Black kids in the class as well; later when some of them went to the principal to talk about what happened they said they didn’t feel safe in her class.
additionally, pretty much nobody even stood for the pledge of allegiance (we were usually busy reading cause the library in that school was really nice and had a really good collection of books), and when they did they’d never actually say it. this teacher had a problem with this, and every time she saw absolutely nobody in the class standing for the pledge of allegiance, she’d make the entire homeroom (oh yeah i was in her homeroom too, forgot to mention that) tell her why they didn’t for literally the entire class period. Every time someone mentioned systemic racism or racist history she’d butt in either saying “my parents were immigrants and they stood for the pledge” or she’d start talking about her gay son. some kids told stories of being called slurs when they were younger. some kids cried. she would always bring up her gay son as a rebuttal. and i get that being gay is hard, i’m gay myself, but that is not in any way applicable to the situation at hand here. This happened on three separate occasions - sometimes a single person would stand for the pledge just so there was at least one person doing it and so we wouldn’t have to have that conversation.
And then there was the actual teaching. oh boy. so, as i said before, almost all of our books in this class were about some sort of historical atrocity because the history class didn’t have time for it apparently. and uh. uhhhhhhh yeah. with this teacher it was not a good experience.
We had read books about racism for summer reading and we were reading the novel Chains at the beginning of the school year, and the teacher would always talk about how “resilient” the characters in the books were and how they made the best of their situations and fought back, but never about how these characters should have never had to be in these situations in the first place and WHO PUT THEM IN THESE SITUATIONS, WHAT SYSTEMS PUT THEM IN THESE SITUATIONS YOU KNOW THE KIND OF STUFF ONE WOULD NEED TO KNOW FROM A COURSE LIKE THIS TO MAKE SURE HISTORY DOESNT REPEAT ITSELF. Later in the year we read Warriors Don’t Cry and it went exactly how you’d expect. “Resiliency”. Also worse than you’d expect. The teacher victim blamed the author, a real ass person writing about real fucking events, for almost being assaulted at a young age. And though we focused more on the systems of oppression, thankfully, we also watched and interview with the little rock nine and some of the people who harassed them in school, and one of them, a white woman, said the n word and refused to apologize. and this teacher defended her???? On another occasion we had a lesson about feminism and we read some of Sojourner Truth’s writing, and she interpreted it as solely being about womanhood and not race - and when I tried to talk about how race is an important factor in the message of one of the speeches, the teacher called my parents. We also read books about the holocaust and this teacher was surprisingly respectful throughout the whole thing. No victim blaming, no talk of resilience, nothing.
I had talked to her about all of this before. We knew each other from the newspaper, and it even seemed like I was her favorite student. She would not budge. Sometimes she even made the argument that I was smarter than the other kids, that I cared more than the other kids, that I would notice these things and care about them but other kids wouldn’t and I should just shut up because nobody understands me because i’m just so smart. which made me fucking pissed. i don’t care any more than the other kids who told you stories of being harassed and ridiculed at 8:30 am on a weekday so that the whole class could excercise their freedom of speech. i’m not any smarter than the other kids who cited countless examples of the atrocities this country committed against people of color to you who you didn’t listen to. in fact, i’m not even that smart. i’d say i’m kind of an idiot. and i want to be an idiot, because then i’m not put on a pedestal to push other people down.
This happened two years ago so i don’t exactly remember the order in which these next three events happened.
Since during these talks sometimes i’d start to cry, in may my french teacher asked me if i wanted to transfer to her homeroom and i did. It was a lot better there.
Around this time about eight of the kids from my old homeroom went to the principal to talk about this teacher and how her class made them feel unsafe.
Anyway, my backpack is very heavy. I usually have a lot of books in there, until this year I used five subject notebooks, I never clean out my folders and I brought a laptop as well. Even with all this though, my backpack always ends up being heavier than I expected.
So, one day my anger toward this teacher boiled over. On my way out of english class, when she went to say goodbye to me, I shoved her to the side with my backpack. It turns out that broke her hip, and she was out of school for two weeks. When she came back she said she had almost died in the hospital. She also announced her retirement, and that she was going to go and “end racism”, ironically. She knew I was the one who hit her, but she didn’t say anything about that. I was still her favorite, apparently. It left a bad taste in my mouth that she still thought of me like this. Eventually I graduated from that school and I haven’t seen her since.
tldr: A teacher of mine was racist and making a lot of the kids in the class feel unsafe, and she tried to keep me from arguing with her about it, so I hit her with my backpack and broke her hip, almost killing her.
AITA???
What are these acronyms?
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Title: One Look and I Knew - Chapter 1
Ship: Mike x Bob Miles
Words: 2.8k
Description: Mike is the new English teacher at Mrs. Brendan's school for Girls. (Pre-Canon).
Note: All my fics are so long lately. This will be chaptered. The mikedude royalty au will be chaptered. Apologies in advance.
It was Mike’s first day at Mrs. Brendan’s School for Girls. All they could think about was their nerves. There would be a board meeting to introduce them to the school. It was all very exciting but terrifying.
This was their first teaching job. They were fresh out of their credential program. This being a private school, especially a girls’ only school, made them extra nervous. They were to be introduced at a board meeting with some of the other teachers, headmistress, and the daughter of the headmistress.
They checked their face in a compact again.
Take a deep breath. It’ll be fine.
They pushed the door to the room where the board would meet. It included a long table, and ritzy decor, such as swords, guns, and pottery.
“Ah, there she is,” said Mrs. Brendan upon their arrival. Mike only smiled, trying not to cause a scene their first minute there. Still, the pronoun stung.
Mrs. Brendan turned to the group.
“I would like to introduce our new English teacher, Mi-,” Mrs. Brendan attempted to announce before Mike cut in.
Their interruption was hesitant. “Hello everyone, feel free to call me Mike. We can do away with the formalities.”
The group looked at each other in mild confusion but didn't say anything.
“Nice to meet you, Mike,” said one of the older professors. “I hope you’ll have a good time here.”
Mike nodded and thanked him. The others introduced themselves, including the headmistress’s daughter, Gretchen. Gretchen was a blonde slightly shorter than Mike, and clearly in a social class above them. Mike noted her eyeshadow didn't go well with her skin tone but said nothing about it.
The board meeting went on as it presumably often did, with nothing of particular note.
A tall man with greased curls approached Mike after the board meeting. He flashed them a welcoming smile and said, “Hi, I’m Bob Miles. I teach music and athletics.”
Mike gave the man a once over with their eyes. He was in a neat brown suit that was loose enough that it was hard to tell his build. He seemed just wide enough. He was a great deal nicer to look at than any gym teacher they’d had in school. He had a friendly smile.
“What instrument do you play?” Mike asked him. They figured if he taught music, surely he played something.
“Well, if my pipes are an instrument, I play them.”
“You sing? Well?”
“I like to think so,” Bob answered.
“Well, I’ll be seeing you around?”
He smiled and nodded. “See you around.”
The next to greet Mike was Nancy Collins, the
chemistry teacher. Her hair was an auburn color and she was slightly shorter than Mike.
“Hello, I hear you’re our new English teacher. I’m Nancy Collins. I teach in the chemistry laboratory.”
It was always nice to see a woman in the sciences. Still, Nancy wasn’t the nerd you would expect to be a science teacher. Unlike Mike, she didn’t wear glasses.
“That’s great,” Mike said. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Collins.”
“Oh, call me Nancy,” she said with a wave of her hand. “If I’m to call you by first name, you might as well do the same for me.”
Right. Of course.
Mike smiled politely. “Sure, Nancy it is.”
“Well, I’d better be going. You can’t leave kids alone in a chemistry lab too long.”
With that, Nancy hurried away. Mike remembered a fire that had occurred in the chemistry lab back in high school. They hoped nothing like that happened here.
Mike took a deep breath and headed to their first class.
From that point, it seemed as if Bob Miles was everywhere. They were too busy to talk to him, but he always seemed to appear. If they walked the halls, there he was. If they ate lunch on campus, he took lunch right then. He said hello as they passed each other, and always flashed them a smile. They’d never felt more welcomed anywhere. They figured it was the product of working at the same school.
The next time Mike spoke to Bob was on the way to their first English class of the morning on the last day of the week. He had just finished a gym class, which was evident by his plain white shirt and whistle.
“Morning Mike,” he greeted. “How’s this week been treating you?”
Mike replied very slowly, trying to peel their eyes from his tanned arms. “It’s been alright. Do you always wear that to your classes?”
He chuckled. “No, sometimes I wear my gray slacks. Why? Is there something wrong?”
“Oh, no, nothing…nothing at all. I just imagine it must be hard for the girls to-” Mike paled. “I just mean that it must be so chilly in the mornings.”
He shrugged. “Not when you're working up a sweat.”
Mike noticed the subtle sheen of sweat on Bob’s neck. He was clearly not the type to sit and watch his students.
“It’s, uh, very good you participate along with the students.”
“It keeps me in shape,” Bob replied with a tone that Mike almost thought was teasing. They shook their head. Surely not.
Mike’s eyes landed on Bob’s pecs, which they could see vaguely through his shirt, “It, uh, sure does.”
Mike cursed at themselves inwardly and quickly added, “Maybe I should consider teaching gym.”
It was Bob’s turn to give them a once over. “I think you’re fine in English.”
Now, what on earth was that intended to mean? Was that a compliment? An insult to their out-of-shape physique? A meaningless turn of phrase? Their mind raced.
Mike wouldn't get an explanation because Bob gave them a curt goodbye and left them standing in a daze.
As days passed, Mike noticed that they weren't the only one with an infatuation with Bob Miles. Gretchen, the headmistress's daughter, had an obvious preoccupation with him. What was also obvious to everyone but Gretchen is that he wasn't looking her direction at all. Whose direction Bob was looking in Mike wasn't sure. It could have been nobody at all. Or, for all Mike knew Bob could be married with 5 kids. They hardly knew each other.
Some of Bob’s students also had a thing for him. They would do subtle things to get his attention and talk to him like he was the most important person in the world. He didn't seem to pay them any mind.
Mike felt rather foolish joining this group of teenage girls and the ever petty Gretchen.
“That’s all for today, everyone,” Mike said to their last class on Monday. “Make sure to read the 3 Dickinson poems and come prepared to discuss them.”
All the girls rushed out as quickly as they could. Well, nearly all of them. Mike began to erase the chalkboard as someone came in.
“How can I help you?” Mike asked, back still turned.
“Do you have a pen? I think I lost mine.”
Huh. That surely wasn't one of their students. That was a man’s voice. A familiar man. Mike turned their head and saw Bob smiling at them. He was wearing a very cozy blue sweater.
“Oh, hello Mr. Miles.”
Wait…a pen? Weren't there several classes between theirs and the music room?
“Didn't Ms. Collins have a pen? You know, when you passed her in the chemistry lab on the way here?”
“Oh, I came from the office,” he replied smoothly.
Sure, sure. That would be the other way, and much closer.
Mike grabbed a pen from their desk. “Just bring it back, okay? That’s a nice pen.”
He nodded and smiled. “I will. See you around.” Bob almost walked out the door before and turned back and added, “And, uh, call me Bob, won't you?”
Mike’s heart skipped a beat. They wanted to launch themselves out the window with how childish they were being. They had a schoolgirl’s crush on him. “Sure. See you around, Bob.”
Mike closed their eyes and refocused on the task at hand. They began to pack up their things to leave.
“I think Mr. Miles likes you,” someone said suddenly. It was the voice of a teenage girl. It had an edge of childlike humor.
Still, Mike froze. Surely…? Oh, don't be ridiculous.
“You think…?” Mike mumbled. Their voice was miles away. “Oh, you see, Mr. Miles just wanted a pen.”
“What does a gym teacher need with a pen?” The girl asked. That was almost a fair point.
“He teaches music too. He still has to write lesson plans, make notes, sign his name…” they trailed off. What did Bob’s handwriting look like?
The girl walked forward and waved her hand. “Hello? Mike?”
Mike’s mind snapped back into focus. “You go along now, Ella. Class was dismissed a while ago.”
Ella gave Mike a knowing glance before she left. “You and Mr. Miles have got it bad! Oh, wait until I tell Becky! She thought she would go out with Mr. Miles. I told her she was silly and that he’s old. Oh. Bye!”
He’s not old…he’s only…older than me.
He couldn’t have been older than 40.
Mike chuckled to themselves. Oh well, a little gossip between two teenage girls wouldn't hurt them any. It wasn't true anyhow. Well, it was half untrue. Mike couldn’t deny they had it bad for him. The reverse? Not a chance.
Mike finished packing their bag and locked the classroom door on the way out.
Later in the week, Mike found themselves staring at Bob during one of his classes. They had such a fascination with how he moved.
“I think the new English teacher is watching you, Mr. Miles!” One of the girls told him loudly. The group turned their attention toward Mike and chittered amongst themselves.
Bob turned around and gave Mike a small smirk. He approached them.
“Looking to join us?” He asked.
“No, I was just…passing by.”
“It’s taking you a while.”
“I’m a slow walker,” Mike tried.
He shook his head and laughed. “Oh, no. I’ve seen you. You glide around campus. You walk so fast and make it look easy.”
“Stop looking at me like that.”
Bob leaned in. “Like what?”
“So satisfied with yourself. It makes me think you know something and aren't letting me know what it is.”
“I want you to say it.”
Mike glanced back at the group of girls. “Here? Now?”
Bob turned around to the girls, and shouted with authority, “Ay, girls, keep doing your warm up!”
The reply was a unanimous “Sorry, Mr. Miles.”
Bob turned back around and winked at Mike. “Tell me later. Let’s say, oh, my room, 6 o’clock? If you don't have too many essays to grade.”
“No, we’re only on-” Mike began to say. Then it occurred to them that he may not care. “I’ll be there.”
“Good. See you later.”
Bob ran back to the group of girls, who were still eyeing Mike with amusement or jealousy.
Mike shook their head and hurried off to their next class.
They were nervous as they knocked on the door to Bob’s on-campus apartment. They’d spent an hour getting ready to see him, for what purpose they weren't entirely sure, but they still felt underdressed.
Bob opened the door. He smiled widely when he saw them, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Come on in. I hope you like coffee. Fresh perked.” He was in a suit similar to the one they met him in.
Mike appreciated the little spread that Bob had set up. There was coffee, some pastries that were obviously store bought but no less appealing, and a tulip for them.
It all came as quite the shock.
“Is this a date?”
Bob laughed. “I sure hope so. I don't do all this for just anybody.”
“Did you even mean you wanted to talk?”
“Yes. About you and me. You can tell me what’s on your mind.”
Mike thought back to Ella. “You like me.”
“The girls sure caught on. Looks like you're the last to know.”
“And you knew I liked you,” they said slowly.
He nodded. “You weren't exactly subtle. You looked at me in class today like you hoped to eat me up.”
Oh no! Oh god! How could they have been so obvious?
“I think…I can't take this.”
Bob took their hand and led them to the table. “Come on, take a donut.”
“You could've just asked me out!”
“I did,” he replied. “My place, 6 o’clock. Like I told you.”
“I hope I didn't look at you so voraciously.”
He smiled. “A little but I liked it.”
“You know everybody’s got a thing for you,” Mike said, before taking a bite of their strawberry donut.
“Not everybody.”
“Well, there’s Gretchen.”
He waved his hand. “I don't like a thing about her.”
“Some of your students are stuck on you.”
He laughed. “That’s very sweet of them but I like my women a little more mature.”
Women. Hm.
“And that's me?”
Bob leaned in. Mike could see every pore and line in his face this close. “Yes, it is.”
“You're very handsome.”
“And you're beautiful.”
Mike’s instinct was to deny that but Bob had said it so earnestly.
Mike leaned back to drink some coffee. Also, it was hard to breathe with Bob so close.
He bit into a cherry danish. Mike was hopelessly mesmerized by everything he did.
“Do you want me or my danish?” he asked. “You’re hungry for one of us.” He said the word funny, with equal emphasis on the “dan” and the “ish”.
Mike blushed. “I’m not hungry, I'm just…”
Fascinated by your mouth, Mike’s mind finished.
“Yeah?”
“I like looking at you.”
“I like looking at you too.”
He does? Is he sure?
“You do?”
“Mm hmm.”
“Since when?” they pressed.
Bob leaned in and said almost to the shell of their ear, “Since I met you.”
Mike scoffed. “You're just saying that.”
“It doesn't take long for a guy to decide he likes looking at someone.”
At this moment they recalled how nice they thought Bob was to look at when they met him. Still, it wasn't something they thought someone could feel about them.
“You sure put a lot of sugar in your coffee,” he commented.
“It tastes nice.”
“All that sugar, you're probably real sweet.”
“Or close to rotting,” Mike suggested.
He shook his head. “You smell nice too. Like flowers. Coffee and flowers.”
“Are you expecting a kiss on the first date?” Mike teased.
“Yes.”
Mike’s heart pounded in their chest. A kiss. His lips look soft and inviting. He was biting on his bottom lip now. Mike watched as he released it from between his teeth.
“Have you tried being less gorgeous?”
He laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Every little noise he made them nervous. They felt everything he did in their stomach.
“I want to kiss you but I’m too scared to do it.”
Another laugh. “It’s almost like you never kissed a man before.”
Should they tell him? What if it made him lose interest? What if…oh, whatever.
“You’d be right.”
Bob pulled away slightly. His expression went blank. “What?”
“You caught me. I’ve never kissed before.”
He took a minute, likely to process. “I was kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“Well, we gotta fix that,” he said. “Come here.”
Bob gently guided their face towards his with his hand. Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to theirs. He was sweet from the danish. That was the only taste that Mike could place. It was all new to them. They lost track of time with his lips pressed to theirs. Eventually, he pulled away, but not far.
“You're as sweet as I thought you’d be,” he said. “Real nice.”
“Kiss me again?”
Bob happily obliged. This kiss was shorter than the last, with the addition of rubbing noses as he pulled away.
He smiled at them. His smile was especially intoxicating when they could feel his warmth.
“Bob, does this mean we’re- does it mean you're-” Mike struggled with the words.
“I’d like to be your boyfriend, if this works out.”
My boyfriend. Boyfriend. Mike could float away.
“I want you to be my boyfriend,” Mike said breathlessly.
“I’m real glad, honey,” he replied gently. He caressed their face with his thumb. “You never had a boyfriend before?”
“No.”
“Their loss.”
He grinned at them. He looked genuinely smitten with them. Mike couldn't believe it. He didn't pull away for a while.
“You're staring.”
“I know.”
He pulled away eventually to take a sip of his coffee. Mike watched him as he did so. They couldn't peel their eyes from him either.
“I don't want to leave,” Mike said after a while.
“You don't have to,” Bob replied. “It’s Saturday tomorrow."
“I have a feeling that Mrs. Brendan and the board wouldn't like that very much. Anyway, I’m not that kind of person.”
“At least let me kiss you goodbye.”
“Yeah.”
Bob cupped their face and kissed them. Mike still felt like they were floating on air.
“See you on Monday,” he said.
“Yeah. Monday,” Mike replied vaguely.
They floated all the way back to their room.
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Hi It is me back at it again with sentitwin telepathy au propaganda. Heres felixs live reactions to adrien and marinette not being able to kiss each other for a painful amount of days
i think you will be pleased to know this propaganda worked, my dearest moonie. upon seeing this art i immediately went into a frenzy and realized i needed to combine my ♊twin telepathy au♊ with the 🤴🏻princess and the pauper au💂🏻♂️ to maximize the senti-twins' suffering.
here's a bit of an excerpt from what i wrote 👀
What color was Henry IV’s white horse? Félix stared at the page before him, even more baffled by the abundance of lines beneath the exam question. Glancing around, he found no sign of confusion from the other students filling the auditorium. While some were sneaking glances at the professor stationed down by the podium, or checking the time on their phones, most were bent over the exam booklets, scribbling away as though every question on the test made perfect sense. It was a trick. It had to be. Maybe Félix hadn’t done all the readings for this English History class, but he was certain this particular question hadn’t been on the study guide. Gray, came Adrien’s voice through the bond. Félix started at the sudden interruption, dropping his pen to the floor with a loud clatter. Several of his classmates turned to look at the offending noise; the professor was already glaring his way as he bent to retrieve it. Would you stop that? Félix shot back, hunching in his seat and dropping his head so low to the paper, he could no longer see anyone else. I’m in class. Henry IV’s horse was gray, not white. Félix pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to look like he was concentrating rather than being pestered by his twin. Are you some kind of historical horse expert now? Most horses that look white are actually gray, Adrien explained with more gusto than Félix’s history professor had ever demonstrated. Their dark coat loses pigmentation over time. There are some pure white horses, but they’re a result of cross-breeding techniques that didn’t exist during the time of Henry IV. Félix put his pen to the page, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Is that what they teach you in prince school? he asked, writing out Adrien’s answer word for word. That fancy royal education better not disappoint, Your Highness. I’m surprised you didn’t already know the answer, Felix. Adrien’s thoughts turned smug, a hint of glee slashing across the brooch on Félix’s chest. Since you always paid so much attention whenever I had lessons with Kagami. Félix ducked his head again, face hot as he moved to the next question. Sod off.
basically what's happened is, felix and adrien were separated at birth. adrien went to go be the prince of france while felix was raised as a filthy peasant british boy. they find out they're senti-twins when felix steals the peacock miraculous 👀
it's also love square prpr so all those adrinette almost-kisses would definitely happen, and felix will DEFINITELY be making those faces as he judges his loser twin (even though felix himself is just as big a loser ❤️)
#also klsdfklefagerdf#i just love how felix is more and more annoyed in every frame#like adrinette is just trying to cope with how dumb and in love they are#and felix is just trying to live his life#AND ADRINETTE KEEP INTERRUPTING HIM#that last panel is sending me btw i canNOT#is he breaking the 4th wall or is he trying to run the other way#little does he know he will never escape the love square <3#princess and the pauper au#twin telepathy au#ml fanfic#miraculous fanfic#wip#adrien agreste#felix graham de vanily#felix f*th*m#senti-adrien#senti-felix#princess & the pauper/twin telepathy au#king henry iv#moonieratty
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TITLE: Invisible.
— PART NINE. —
yandere! bully! sukuna x gn! idgaf! fearless! reader! x yandere! yuuji itadori
MASTERPOST. PREV. NEXT.
CONTENT WARNING: mental breakdowns, bullying, emotional and mental pain, nightmares, overall toxic behavior on sukuna’s end.
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
TAGLIST: @soberdipity @sadgyaltings @kawasbaby @screwyou3
FROM that day on, Sukuna focused all of his advances on one certain individual, much to their misfortune. Besides seeing him in the class that you act as a Teaching Aid in, it appears that you also have two other classes with him, so it’s difficult to not see him around. Sukuna hadn’t even interacted with you yet, but you often felt a heavy gaze constantly watching your every move, but you often ignored it. Until, he finally decided to approach you.
On this particular day, in one of the classes he had with you, he finally decided to shoot his shot as soon as it ended due to the Professor of this particular class deciding to let everyone out early. He did a bit of premature packing, just to make sure he caught you before you slipped between his fingers, and it seemed to pay off, especially since he was able to approach the desk you’d been sitting at, looming over the front of it like some kind of predator. At first, you were unaware of him approaching you as you packed up your things, but when the light in front of you was suddenly blocked, you had no other choice but to look up, meeting a set of fuschia eyes staring back at you. Did he wear colored contacts? Neither of you said anything at first, you had paused your packing and simply stared at him, slowly raising an eyebrow as you tried to figure out who this guy was and what he wanted. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your tongue on where you knew him from.
“Y/N, right? Name’s Sukuna. I was wondering, how do you feel about earnin’ a little cash? I’m in need of some tutoring, and you seem smart.”
Sukuna… Sukuna… Sukuna! That’s right! You snapped your fingers in realization and pointed a finger at him, even if it was a little weird and uncalled for. “So, you’re the Sukuna. I’ve heard about you, or more like, my friends have talked about you around me…” You mulled over his words again before considering what class you two were in, as well as what you knew about his academic skills.
“You—“ you pointed to him, “want me—“ you pointed to yourself, “to tutor ‘you’? The Valedictorian of our year? I’m not too sure about that, Sukuna. I’ve graded some of your work in English, and as far as I know you’re the smartest guy in our grade, fuck, maybe even in this school. What assistance could you possibly need from me?”
“You seem to know your way around in this class. Human Psychology and I don’t really get along too well.” He admitted, knowing damn well that he had no problem understanding it, but wanted some reason to get close to you.
You sighed. “How much money are we talking about?”
…
That’s how it had begun. You’d started tutoring Sukuna and he paid more than you’d expected. As far as you could tell, Sukuna didn’t need you to tutor him, but who were you to stop him from paying you to sit there and do your homework with him? He wasn’t as stuck up as you’d originally thought, even if he was a tad bit of a flirt, you always rolled your eyes at his advances and just went about your usual routine.
Where did it go wrong? I’ll tell you.
Sukuna had been getting tutored by you for the past month. You’d have to be living under a rock to not know that Sukuna was quite a sexually active man, simply there for the fun and no strings attached. And as one would expect, some people thought they were more special than others, and fooling themselves into this delusion led to some rather… unpleasant occurrences. That truly didn’t matter to him, his moral compass wasn’t exactly pointed in the right direction after all. The reason for this is obvious, to him at least, he’s still attempting to fill the void that his invisibilis has left. And deep down, the new Teaching Aid has been reminding him of them with the way they act, but he’s been ignoring that deep seeded feeling, he doesn’t know if you’re his invisibilis or not. A part of him wished you were, and another wished you weren’t. He’d sworn off getting romantically involved with you, but he still finds himself wanting to get closer to you, even unconsciously.
Taking all of that into consideration, your friends should have been off-limits to his advances, but, Sukuna ignored that unspoken rule, and slept with not one, but three of them. All three of which seemingly developed feelings for him, even after he strictly told them he wasn’t interested in romance.
What does that have to do with anything at the moment? Well, you were forced to console all three of them in your dorm, and when they found out why they were all upset, let’s just say, all Hell broke loose.
The three of them had come over to your dorm, looking for comfort, mainly in you considering they’d all showed up in front of your door boohooing and crying their eyes out. Being the friend you were, you offered your living room to them and the four of you sat where you could get comfortable. You had plopped down on the couch, along with two of your friends, and the third had sat on the floor. After everyone was comfortably situated, you began to question why they were all feeling the way they were. When the answers were all out in the open, there was one common denominator.
Sukuna Ryomen.
“What do you mean you like Sukuna? I liked him first!”
“NO! I did! He said ‘you weren’t as bad as I thought’ and smiled at me!”
“News flash honey, that is not a compliment. He was probably talking about your dick sucking game.”
You sat there in silence, watching as the three of them ended up in a fruitless argument, talking over each other and trying to prove their case that Sukuna was in love with them and not with the others. It was tiring to listen to but you figured that this was the best way for them to realize that they were arguing for now reason, so, you got up and decided to get yourself something to drink from the mini-fridge nearby, getting yourself a can of one of your favorite beverages. You were about to go and sit back down on the couch, only to hear a knock at the door, leading you to cock your head to the side before making your way to the door, opening your drink up simultaneously.
Opening the door, you were met with the problem. Suddenly remembering that the two of you had a ‘tutoring session’ this particular afternoon. Of fucking course the universe decided to dump this pile of horse shit right in your lap. And when you opened your mouth to tell him he needed to leave immediately before things got worse inside of your dorm room, you heard something break behind you and quickly turned around, looking to find out what had broken and who you were about to strangle. Your friends had apparently escalated into a full-on brawl, one was pulling the hair of another, the other was punching one in the gut while screaming profanities, the mess of limbs of hair pulling was absolutely ridiculous. You were frozen for a moment, simply watching as the three crashed onto the floor to continue their meaningless fight. In the beginning process of said fight, apparently, they had made one of your lamps fall onto the ground, shattering into pieces.
Then, you shook away your initial shock to jump into action, rushing towards them to start trying to pull them apart and away from each other. Sukuna, on the other hand, could smell the bloodlust for the fight had even began and stood in the threshold of your dorm, watching with amusement from where he stood. Hey, what kind of demon would he be if he didn’t enjoy a little chaos? He briefly recognized the three of them as people he’s slept with but he had no idea why they were fighting or the fact that he was the cause of it. He was just amused. Human fights were always so messy and unpredictable.
You, poor you, were struggling with them while also trying to make sure you didn’t end up getting hurt in the mist of punches and screaming. For a moment, you separate yourself from them to catch your breath, only to find that Sukuna had just been standing there watching the fight with a look of amusement in his eyes. And maybe, just maybe, you had a lapse of judgment and misplaced anger, but you screamed at him from where you stood, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
“This is all your fault! Why can’t you just go away?!!”
Those words. Those fucking words. Sukuna felt one of his hearts start to beat rapidly and he reached up to clench at his chest, pulling at the fabric of his chest before he stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. You watched, confusion written plainly all over your face at his sudden actions, and before you knew it, he was turning tail and running away like you had said the worst thing possible to him.
Little did you know, you were completely right.
…
After Sukuna had made his escape, you went out of your dorm in search of help, and when you finally found it, a couple of athletes who lived on your floor came to help you peel the three individuals apart, and out of your dorm. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much damage done to your place besides your broken lamp and some pushed furniture, and your so-called friends (who you consequently ended up dropping after seeing the way they were quick to fight because of some stupid delusional romance) barely sustaining any injuries, you went about your day. When you had time to yourself again after a quick clean up of the mess that was left behind, you began to mull over the words you’d said to Sukuna, who, in hindsight didn’t exactly do anything seriously wrong. Sure, he’d stood by and stared at the fight without intervening, and sure he was the cause of the fight in the first place, but that look in his eyes that came after you shouted at him was haunting you. For some strange reason, your heart had ached at the terrified expression he held. Was what you said really all that hurtful? It made you feel a little guilty, and so, you decided to contact him and apologize. Or try to at least.
With each call, it all went to voicemail after a couple of rings and he was no longer reading your text messages.
You said them.
You said those forsaken fucking words. You weren’t supposed to, you shouldn’t have, you couldn’t have. Why were you doing this? Why was the universe doing this?
If there was one thing all of his previous Invisibilia Amor Fatis, or otherwise known in the mortal world as ‘soulmates’, had in common, it was that. Those exact words but sometimes varying in languages, they all meant the same thing, and they always told him what he needed to know, and words he’d grown to feel sheer amounts of pain from after hearing them being said to him so often. This meant he’d found you again, but it also meant you had the potential to die again, right in his arms, at the hands of him. It was a bittersweet realization just like all the other times destiny forced you to meet again. This is exactly why he’d avoided coming back to the mortal world, he was destined to meet you one way or another, sooner or later. But he had never expected for whoever the fuck controls his destiny to force him to meet you again so soon. He should have left when he had the chance, he should leave now, shouldn’t he? That was the best thing for the both of you, it would protect you from harm and it would keep him from having to deal with the inevitable.
Then, why is he back in class with you? Why is he ignoring you while also keeping tabs on you at the same time? Why is he letting you approach him despite knowing that the more you come in contact with him the higher chances you are going to suffer another unnecessary death?
Completely ignorant of your previous lives and what it means to become involved with this pink-haired man, you are eager to apologize for your outburst. He had been ignoring you for the last couple of days, but you had to get rid of the guilt and now you were chasing him around, trying to corner him. And today, you were successful. He’d just come out of one of his classes and no you weren’t stalking him, you just wanted to talk. As soon as you saw that familiar fluff of hair, you called out to him and he immediately stopped in his tracks, turning towards you as you speedily approached him, taking strong strides until you were directly in front of him, looking as fierce as ever.
All of his hearts raced when he stared at you, but he kept up his stoic and unbothered expression, his hands digging into the pockets of his joggers as he looked down at you expectedly. “What is it?” He asked, sighing afterwards.
“Ah, well, uh… I wanted to say, I’m sorry about what I said that day. I know you didn’t exactly /initiate/ them fighting or anything like that but I said what I said because I was frustrated that they were fighting over some stupid guy— Not that you’re stupid, I mean, I—“
“Pretty colorful apology. ‘s that all? By the way, I don’t need you to tutor me anymore. Bye.” He kept his statement bland and curt, turning around and began walking back down the hallway, away from you.
That instantly made you stand up straight, sure your tutoring sessions weren’t exactly tutoring, he’d simply paid you to study with him and occasionally hold a conversation with him. Which wasn’t exactly unpleasant, in fact, you enjoyed talking to him when he wasn’t being flirty and trying to get in your pants. Plus, the money was good, it had been helping you with your daily expenses and even with your intuition. And so, you hurried after him and unexpectedly grabbed his wrist, halting him from continuing his walking endeavor.
Perhaps, you running after him wasn’t just about the money and his company, subconsciously, something was telling you not to let him go. You were unsure why, but this felt like the right thing to do, you felt it in your gut.
“Wait, uhm… I-“ You were at a loss for words, you didn’t know /why/ you’d stopped him or what you wanted to say to him exactly, but you just couldn’t let him go. The feeling of your hand wrapped around his wrist sent a shiver up his spine. He was at a great war with himself. He wanted nothing more than to bask in your presence and make you fall in love with him all over again, he wanted to hold you close and never let go, whisper his own tainted apologies to you until he was blue in the face. He was still facing away from you as you gripped his wrist, he could feel his vision blur and his eyes start to water.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
This wasn’t the time to cry, pull it together, Sukuna. The hall may have been empty but it felt like he had a million pair of eyes staring at him, waiting for him to make his decision, judging every breath he made and every breath he took.
He had to put Plan B in motion, as much as he hated the idea of treating you in such a way he had to seperate the two of you before it was too late.
Suddenly, he abruptly snatched his arm away from
you and swiftly turned to face you, an angered look on his face as he spoke down at you. “Will you just fuck off? I don’t need your help anymore. Find someone else to fuckin’ bother.” He venomously spat, glaring at you before turning back around and stomping away, leaving you standing there in confusion, watching his retreating back. Although he was angry, you saw something else in his stride, something uncertain, something… fearing.
Standing there in shock, you hadn’t even registered the way your arm moved on its own, as well as your hand as you began to rub your chest, right where your heart was. And why… was your face wet? Why were you crying? Why did everything hurt?
He’d run away, again. But if he didn’t, he’d be putting a target on your back yet again. Not caring if anyone saw, he teleported into the comfort of his dorm and broke down.
“GOD-FUCKING-DAMNIT.” He screamed at the top of his lungs and began wreaking havoc on the innocent interior decorations of his home.
…
That was only the beginning. You got new friends. You got a new tutoring job. You got used to the unexplainable pain that had started coming to you in sporadic waves after your latest interaction with Sukuna Ryomen. You got used to waking up from the dreamless rests, trembling and sobbing as if you were experiencing the most gruesome fate over and over again. For some strange reason, you had an overwhelming feeling that those dreams weren’t dreamless, your brain was shielding you from something, making you forget your nightmares and the reasons why you were crying. But what you couldn’t get used to was this sudden uptake in Sukuna in your presence, originally you’d started to enjoy his company, but that quickly changed when he began acting like a dick to you and only you. It was like he had it out for you or something, and he wouldn’t leave you alone despite being the one telling you not to bother him. It didn’t make sense, but neither did the random pains that would reveal themselves without you even asking. But, what you’ve noticed is that the pain rises after interacting with Sukuna or even seeing him in the distance. You were starting to think he was the cause of this pain, but you were unsure of how since he wasn't anything or anyone significant to you, not even in the slightest. But why did he make you feel this way? It was almost as if you knew him much more than you originally thought. And why did the pains suddenly start after he told you to leave him alone, why didn’t they start before that? Why was he being so rude to you? You didn’t do anything to him, you’d already apologized.
“Move outta my way. You’re blocking the way.“ When your back hit the wall, you glared at the cause of everything, deciding to ignore him altogether after he’d shoulder checked you to get past you. He didn’t knock you around harshly, only just a light shove to force you to pay attention to him for a few seconds as he walked past you. And you know he does it on purpose because there’s always enough space for him to walk around you but he just has to make it seem like you’re the one blocking his walking path. You’d caught up eventually and whenever he came towards you, you maneuvered your way away from him without batting an eye. That didn’t sit too well with him so he’d always find some way to mildly inconvenience you.
Sometimes he caught you off guard, walking up behind you and childishly brushing past you with an ‘apologetic’ smile and a nod of his head. You didn’t let that bother you, only rolling your eyes at him and shaking him off as you continued on with your day. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, he was basically just an extra large kid who wanted attention. Why your attention? You didn’t know, and probably never would.
It escalated.
He escalated.
And eventually, you grew numb to it. You grew to deal with him and tolerate him. And in some strange way, this felt like the best option.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: tbh i don’t really like the way this chapter came out but i didn’t wanna rework it because it just shows how messy the story is when it comes to these two. this was the last backstory chapter so noW we’re moving onto the present, prepare yourselves bc i am very excited. also, pls know that it may take me time to update but im gonna finish this fucking book, i already have all the events and shit written down + the ending, but i still gotta write the meat sOoo y’know. ive also been writing six other ongoing books and… i have more book ideas im writing 😭
NEXT
#fanfic#anime#yandere#x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen yandere#yandere x reader#poc friendly#jujutsu itadori#jujutsu sukuna#jujutsu icons#jujutsu imagines#jujtsu kaisen fanfic#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#yandere sukuna#bully sukuna#possessive sukuna#sukuna#sukuna imagines#sukuna fanfic#monsterfucking cw#tw monsterfucking#gender neautral reader#x gender neutral reader#yandere yuuji#yandere itadori yuuji#yandere x you#yandere x y/n
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Alice and Jasper belong to their rightful creator.
They may feel out of character, I tried to prompt the ai to make the scenes and characters feel realistic. Minority revised and edited by me. Used DreamGen.com for anyone who wants to try
Our Little - An Alice/Jasper x Little Reader AI generated fanfiction
(Y/n) moved to Forks Washington midway through their senior year, which meant that they had been living in a hotel for the past few days since their mom’s house wasn't ready yet. This week had been a total bore, all they did was drive, unpack, eat, and go to sleep. But today was a new day, today was going to be full of fun!
They’d finally attend their new school and actually move into their house.
They got dressed in their school and weather appropriate outfit of warm leggings, short overalls with a daisy on the pocket, and a thin light gray sweater. It was pretty chilly but not unbearable, the sweater would fit nicely indoors and out.
Finally, they walked to school, seeing other students loitering and hollering on the streets to each other, some walking to class, others waiting for the bell in their groups. (Y/N) went into the main office and met the administrator, who gave them their schedule. They were surprised at how nice and easy their classes were. They thanked the lady for helping them out, then went to their first class, Math. They loved math.
As they entered the classroom, everyone stopped talking and stared at them. It was awkward.
“Hi,” they greeted shyly, trying not to look at anyone in particular. They rushed to the teacher, sat at his desk, and held out the paper they’d gotten from the office to quickly tell teachers ‘this is your transfer’. The teacher smiled, and they relaxed a bit. He directed them to a desk in the middle of the class, and they took it, smiling nervously at their surrounding classmates.
Thankfully, the teacher called the roll, and then started teaching.
(Y/N) couldn’t help but feel like someone's eyes kept passing over them throughout the entire class. But they brushed it off as new student nerves.
When the bell rang, (Y/N) dared a glance around the room and caught the most beautiful pair of eyes. Brown? No… gold. They were warm and inviting, and (Y/N) could see the smile hidden behind them. Then the boy actually smiled at them, and it made (Y/N) feel butterflies in their stomach. His eyes were so kind and welcoming.
They waved shyly, eyes quickly averting to not stare too much at the boy. They could feel their cheeks burning.
They left the class quickly, forcing the boy out of their mind and continuing through the day. They found English, Home Ed, and History passed by with nothing happening until the lunch bell rang, and they got lost trying to find their locker.
When they finally got there, ten minutes after the start of the break, they were so confused about how to open it, they were just staring blankly at it until they heard a voice behind them.
Alice and Jasper had met up as soon as their fourth hour ended, both already knowing where the other would be. Edward was soon to join them, telling Alice about the drama he’d “over heard” in PE.
Jasper paid half a mind to the chatter, eyes cruising the hall for… for them, he realized the second his eyes locked into the target that he even had a target.
They stood down the hall, a frustrated furrow in their eyebrows and a slight quiver in their lower lip. Alice spotted his sight of vision, following the look down the hallway and
Blink
Alive opened her eyes to a wild green field, weather warm but not quite blooming spring. In front of her was a shorter stature, they wore a pink dress, white tights, and black Mary Jane’s. They looked so cute, and so familiar. Jasper stood beside Alice, holding onto a book in one hand while reaching out to their mate with the other.
Alive’s eyes snapped open. “Jasper!”
Jasper blinked, his eyes meeting hers. “What?”
“I just had a vision! I saw them, with us, together. They’re so cute!”
Edward mind read Alice, he couldn't block out the excited emotions so of course he saw the vision that came along with it. “I saw it too! You two have to go over there, they’re upset.”
Jasper looked down the hall, eyes locking on to them, then smiled at Alice and nodded to himself. “Come on then, we better go.”
Alice and Jasper went to (Y/N), catching them staring confused at their locker.
“Hey,” Alice greeted them cheerfully, “do you need help? We can show you how to use your pin!” Alice gestures to their hands, half fiddling with the lock still and half using it to avoid slowing their flushed face.
“Oh, um... yeah, sure!” They answered shyly, feeling their cheeks redden. Alice and Jasper both smiled warmly at them.
“We can walk you to the cafeteria, too, if you want! Those lines get confusing”
(Y/N) nodded gratefully, and they followed the couple down the hall once her locker was shut. Jasper had to stop himself from reaching out and picking them up, he didn’t want to scare them away. They were so adorable, and they smelled like vanilla.
When the three reached the cafeteria, Jasper held the door open for Alice and (Y/N) to enter first. “Thank you,” (Y/N) whispered to him, a warm smile playing at her lips. Jasper’s heart skipped a beat.
“Of course, bubs,” Jasper easily responds, finding their empty table and going Alice and (Y/N) to it. The three sat down, Alice on their side and Jasper in front. They had their teal lunch box on the table, but hadn’t moved to pick anything up. Instead, (Y/N) was looking across the room to a bookshelf filled with various titles and a small paper stating they were freebies the library was tossing.
“What book is that?” They asked, pointing at a decorative cover with green vines and orange hues. Alice looked over to the shelf.
“It looks like a fantasy novel,” Alice replied, grinning. (Y/N) turned their attention to Alice, her lips forming an ‘oh’ like it was shocking. Alice smiled and pointed to the bookshelf again. “Want me to get it for you?”
“Oh, um, yeah sure!” (Y/N) answered shyly, a blush creeping up on their face. Alice giggled and stood up, making her way to the shelf. Jasper watched her go with a fond smile on his face, she’s so perfect. Alice returned to the table with the book in her hands, handing it to (Y/N).
“Here you go!” She exclaimed, sitting back down.
“Thanks!” (Y/N) replied, accepting the book. Jasper glanced over at the clock on the wall, and then to Alice.
Alice was thinking the same thing, one of the wipes from her bag already running over the top of (Y/N)’s water bottle and silverware .
“So what’s the book about?” Jasper asked, sitting back down. (Y/N)’s eyes lit up at the question, they had been so absorbed in the description of the book they definitely didn’t see Alice’s actions.
“Um, it’s about a girl named Ella who gets cursed by a wicked witch. She’s turned into a frog, and the only way to break the curse is to find true love’s kiss!” (Y/N) replied excitedly. Alice pulled out a pack of carrots, ranch dip, and a ham sandwich from the lunch bag, setting it in front of them.
“That sounds like a good read!” Alice said, the both of them smiling at (Y/N)’s reaction. Jasper leaned forward, elbows on the table, and rested his chin on his hands.
“So, what’s your name?” Jasper asked, even though he’d heard it during the roster.
“Oh, um, it’s (Y/N). What’s yours?”
“Jasper.” He smiled at them, and (Y/N) grinned back. Alice was already thinking about what to make for tomorrow’s lunch, but she knew she shouldn’t rush it.
They talked for a bit longer, until (Y/N) started to subconsciously snack on the carrots in front of them. By the time they’d started their sandwich, they barely talked, just enjoyed listening to Alice and Jasper.
After a while, Alice glanced at the clock again and saw that it was almost time for the bell. “Oops! We should get going,” Alice said, standing up.
“Yeah, I need to get to my next class,” (Y/N) replied, finishing their sandwich. Jasper stood up as well, putting the trash in the bin and picking up the napkins. Alice grabbed (Y/N)’s book and lunchbox. “Thanks for helping me out!” (Y/N) said, smiling.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Alice reassured, her free arm wrapping around (Y/N) with a gentle squeeze. “We’ll always be here to help, just find us if you need anything,” she added, giving them another squeeze before letting go.
(Y/N) smiled gratefully, and then followed the two out of the cafeteria. They walked together to (Y/N)’s next class, Alice leading the way.
“You guys are so nice,” (Y/N) said shyly, looking between the two of them. “I’m just glad I found people to hang out with,” (Y/N) mumbled, looking down at their shoes from the heaviness of their emotions.
“Aww, you’ll find plenty of friends here, I promise,” Jasper said, smiling at them. He could feel the insecurities boiling under the surface and met them with a cormforting warmth that matched his words.
“I hope so,” (Y/N) replied, smiling back.
Alice led them to the door of the classroom, and (Y/N) smiled up at her. “Thank you so much for helping me today, I really appreciate it!”
Alice grinned and squeezed their shoulder. “No problem, sweetie,” she said, ruffling their hair gently. “We’ll see you after school?”
(Y/N) nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ll definitely come find you! Thanks again, I’m.. imma go now!” (Y/N) said, rushing into the classroom. Alice and Jasper shared a look before leaving the hallway.
“We should ask them out,” Jasper said.
“Hmm, I think we should wait a little longer,” Alice replied, thinking about the fact that they’d only known them for one day. “But I want to get to know them better,” Alice admitted, a playful smirk on her face. Jasper chuckled.
“Me too,” he agreed, “I’ll make sure to be near them after school.”
“Okay, I’ll do the same,” Alice said, smiling. “And we can take turns walking them between classes.”
“Good idea,” Jasper grinned, “I’ll start with their first class tomorrow.”
Alice nodded and they left for their next class.
The next few days went by in the best ways. Alice and Jasper walked (Y/N) to and from classes, making sure to arrive early so they could sit next to them. (Y/N) would hold onto their arm, sometimes leaning into them when the day got stressful. Jasper would hold (Y/N)’s hand, letting his emotions influence their own.
(Y/N) didn’t mind the attention. It was nice having someone there for them, and they enjoyed the company. Alice and Jasper were both so kind and understanding, and they were so easy to talk to. They didn’t mind when (Y/N) got upset and started crying, instead of pushing them away they pulled them closer, offering comforting words.
One day, after Alice helped them to their locker and Jasper helped them with the lock, they started walking outside with serious-ish looks.
“Hey,” Alice started, her voice betraying her nerves.
“Hey,” (Y/N) echoed, their smile faltering a little.
“Can we ask you something?” Jasper asked, looking down at them.
“Sure,” (Y/N) replied, her innocent eyes meeting his.
“Do you want to go out with us?” Alice asked, her chest filling with hope.
“Oh!” (Y/N) exclaimed, their cheeks turning pink. “Yes! That would be so cool.”
“Great!” Alice smiled, relief flooding through her. Jasper laughed.
“What do you want to do?” Alice asked, wanting to hear their thoughts.
“Um, I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, looking between the two of them. “Maybe go somewhere after school?”
“Like a park?” Alice suggested, hoping it wasn’t too obvious.
“Yeah! That would be fun!” (Y/N) replied enthusiastically.
“Perfect, we’ll see you after school then!” Alice smiled, relieved and excited.
“Yeah, we’ll see you later!” Jasper chimed in, giving (Y/N)’s arm a squeeze and letting them enter their final class.
By the hour’s end, Alice had the trio comfortable in the car, and excited for the park. Jasper was driving, and Alice was in the passenger seat. Instead of attending their own class, the two had planned out a simple picnic. Alice had made some sandwiches and brought a blanket, packed extra sweaters and water bottles. More than they’d need for any outing.
“This is so cool!” (Y/N) exclaimed, looking out the window at the trees passing by.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Alice smiled, her eyes meeting Jasper’s. He smiled back, his eyes never leaving the road.
“We’re here!” (Y/N) gasped, their face lighting up.
“We are!” Jasper exclaimed, parking the car and glancing at them in the rear view mirror.
“I’m so excited!” (Y/N) squealed, their face lighting up. “Can we get out?” (Y/N) asked, looking at Alice hopefully.
“Of course! Just be careful, okay?” Alice replied, already in motion to open the door for them.
“Thanks!” (Y/N) said, hopping out of the car and heading towards the park entrance.
“Have fun!” Alice called, Jasper following close behind.
Once the two had entered the park, Alice and Jasper found a bench under a tree, despite the cloudy weather, and settled down. Alice pulled out the basket and started unpacking.
“Is everything okay?” (Y/N) asked after a while of fun, looking between the two of them nervously as she approached the table.
“Of course,” Alice reassured, handing them a sandwich. “We love spending time with you.”
“Oh,” (Y/N) replied, sitting down and shyly looking down at their plate with the realization that the couple only watched them have fun. “Thanks.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Jasper chimed in, handing them a water bottle. (Y/N) took it with a smile, thanking him.
“Is there anything you want to talk about? Or any questions you might have?” Alice asked, trying to think of ways to make them feel comfortable.
“Not really,” (Y/N) replied, shaking their head. “Actually, I do have a question.”
“Okay, go ahead,” Alice replied, smiling encouragingly.
“How long have you known each other?” (Y/N) asked, curious.
“Oh, we’ve known each other for quite a while now,” Alice replied, glancing at Jasper. He smiled at her and nodded.
“About 40 years now,” he replied, smiling.
“Wow! That’s so long!” (Y/N) replied, earning a chuckle from the pair. Clearly, they didn’t question ‘40 years’ for two ‘high schoolers’.
“Yeah, we’ve known each other a very long time,” Jasper replied, smiling at Alice.
“Well, I’m glad I met you,” (Y/N) said, smiling to herself and eating a couple chips from the plate in front of her like she didn’t just tell the couple the greatest thing they’d heard.
“We’re glad too,” Alice replied, smiling. “Why don’t we go swing for a bit?” She asked, getting up and holding out her hand for (Y/N) to take.
(Y/N) accepted the hand and got up, following Alice to the swings. Jasper watched the pair as they got onto the swingset, Alice sitting down on the swing next to (Y/N).
“They are so cute,” Jasper muttered to himself, though he knew Alice could hear, and smiled at them from the distance.
(Y/N) giggled as her swing got a little momentum, Alice’s hand pushing their back with her own swings.
“Look at me!” (Y/N) exclaimed, raising a hand from the swing’s chain to wave at Jasper. Jasper brought his own hand to wave back before
Boom!
(Y/N), faster than even the vampires could react and faster than they thought human, slipped from the swing and meets the ground. They scrape their knee and scratch their elbow.
“Are you okay?” Alice asked, jumping from her seat and rushing over to (Y/N).
“I,” they take in a sharp breath. “I dunno, tha’ hurt.” They admit, tears beginning to well in their eyes.
“Let me check it,” Alice replied, kneeling beside them.
“I’m fine,” (Y/N) insisted, but they weren’t really. Their lip was starting to quiver as they tried to fight off the pain.
“Come here,” Jasper said, pulling (Y/N) into a tight hug. Alice readjusted beside them, and rubbed their back.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Alice whispered, her voice soothing.
“I’m fine,” (Y/N) insisted, but their body betrayed them, and they began to cry. Jasper tightened his grip on them, and Alice continued to rub their back.
“It’s okay, baby,” Jasper whispered, his voice softening. “Just relax, I’ve got you.”
(Y/N) whimpered, their body trembling in Jasper’s arms. Jasper felt her anxiety in waves and offered his own comforts while Alice whispered more words of comfort.
“Shh, it’s okay,” she repeated, her voice gentle. “You’re safe.” She continued rubbing their back, and (Y/N) relaxed a little more in Jasper’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) sniffled, their voice muffled against Jasper’s shoulder.
“Don’t be sorry,” Alice reassured, continuing to rub their back. “It’s okay to cry. We’re here for you, it’s okay to be upset.”
(Y/N) nodded, sniffling again. “I’m sorry,” they repeated, their voice even more muffled.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Jasper replied, his arms still tight around (Y/N). “Crying is normal, and it’s okay.”
“I just wish I didn’t fall,” (Y/N) sniffled. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why would you be embarrassed?” Alice asked, confused.
“Because I fell,” (Y/N) replied, their voice hitching. “In front of you guys.”
“You’re not supposed to feel embarrassed for falling,” Jasper explained. “It happens, and you’re okay. We’re here for you.”
(Y/N) nodded, sniffling again. “I’m sorry,” they repeated.
“You don’t have to be sorry, bubs,” Jasper assured, rubbing circles on (Y/N)’s back.
After wiping the last of their tears away, Alice suggested they go back to their meal. Jasper held (Y/N)’s hand as they walked back to the table, and Alice helped them get settled and covered in a sweater for the incoming breeze.
“Do you want some bandages?” Alice asked, smiling at (Y/N).
“Yeah, thanks,” (Y/N) replied, smiling.
“I’ll be right back,” Alice smiled, getting up and grabbing her ever present bag. “Here you go,” she said, opening the paper packaging and placing the flower print adhesive around their sore knee.
(Y/N) smiled gratefully and thanked her, and the three of them finished their lunch in peace. After they’d eaten, Alice decided to bring up the thing they all knew but hadn’t established.
“So... are you a little?” Alice asked, her eyebrows raised.
“Um...” (Y/N) looked at Jasper before responding. “I guess.”
“You guess?” Jasper asked, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Well, I’ve never been around anyone who knows about it,” (Y/N) replied, looking down at their food and trying to convince themself it wasn’t a big deal they’d just said that.
“That makes sense,” Alice replied, smiling. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot. If you don’t want to talk about it right now, that’s okay.”
(Y/N) shook their head, their eyes flickering between Alice’s and Jasper’s. “No, it’s fine. I’m just a little nervous talking about it.”
Jasper replied, his expression softening. “If you need us to stop or slow down, just let us know.”
“Thanks,” (Y/N) replied, smiling gratefully. “I guess I am a little, but I’m not sure what kind yet.”
“That’s okay,” Alice reassured. “I think we’re all different, and we can figure out what works for you together. Do you want to try something?”
“Sure,” (Y/N) replied, nodding. “What?”
“Can you try being your littlespace for a bit?” Alice asked, smiling. “We won’t push you, and we’ll be here for you. Just let us know if you’re uncomfortable.”
(Y/N) hesitated, unsure if they were ready to try it yet, but they couldn’t deny how much they enjoyed being around them. “Okay,” they replied, smiling. “But I don’t know how to go back.”
“That’s okay,” Alice reassured. “You can just relax, and we’ll help guide you back.”
(Y/N) nodded, closing their eyes and taking a deep breath. They knew it wasn’t a request for this exact moment, but their body seemed to respond to the idea before their permission, and they felt themselves shrinking a little. They blinked their eyes, l their vision distorted and blurry. They hadn’t changed at all, but the trees felt taller and their guard wasn’t forced much.
Alice and Jasper noticed immediately and stopped talking.
“Are you okay?” Alice asked, her voice calm.
“I’m okay,” (Y/N) replied, their voice sounding littler to the two.
“What happened?” Jasper asked, concern evident in his voice.
“I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, their voice still higher pitched and slightly muffled. “I was just thinking about it, and I guess I went into my littlespace.”
“That’s okay,” Alice replied, smiling at them. “You’re doing great.”
“Yeah,” Jasper agreed, smiling at them too. “We’re here for you.”
(Y/N) smiled gratefully at them and relaxed a little more, feeling less anxious and more secure in the safety of their presence. Alice and Jasper watched them for a few moments, making sure they were comfortable.
“Feeling okay?” Alice asked, her tone warm and welcoming.
“Yeah, I’m good,” (Y/N) replied, smiling.
“Then I think you should finish the last couple bites of your plate,” Jasper suggested, smiling at them.
(Y/N) nodded, and Alice handed them their serving. She watched them eat the rest of their food and then picked up the plate, wiping it clean and placing it in the basket.
“Ready to play?” Alice asked, smiling at them.
(Y/N) nodded, smiling back. “Okay!”
“Great! Then let’s head to the playground,” Jasper replied, grinning. “We can play on the jungle gym, you want to climb around?”
“That sounds like fun!” (Y/N) replied, their eyes lighting up.
“It’s a deal,” Alice agreed, smiling at them. “Let’s go.”
The three of them got up and headed towards the playground, stopping briefly so Alice could pack up her bag.
“Would you like to hold my hand?” Alice asked, offering her hand to (Y/N) as they hesitated on the steps to the monkey bars.
(Y/N) smiled gratefully and took Alice’s hand, climbing up the ladder to the platform. Jasper followed close behind, and Alice held onto (Y/N)’s hand until they reached the top.
“You okay?” Jasper asked, his tone gentle.
“Yeah,” (Y/N) replied, nodding. “I just...” they trailed off, unsure how to explain themselves.
“It’s okay,” Jasper replied, his voice soothing. “We’re here for you. Whatever you need.”
(Y/N) nodded, and Jasper led them to the monkey bar and helped them onto it. (Y/N) gripped the metal bar tightly, their heart pounding in their chest as they started to cross. Alice hover with her arms out behind them, and Jasper stayed right beside them, making sure they didn’t lose their confidence (or grip).
“You’re doing great!” Alice cheered, her voice encouraging.
(Y/N) smiled gratefully, their face flushed with excitement and pride. “Thanks,” they replied, their voice still high pitched and slightly muffled.
“You’re welcome,” Alice replied, smiling proudly. “You’re doing amazing.”
(Y/N) grinned, their mood boosted by Alice’s praise. (Y/N) continued across the monkey bars, their heart beating faster as they neared the end.
“You made it!” Alice cheered, (Y/N) grinned and nodded with her own excitement. They reached the end, and Jasper caught them as they jumped down.
“That was so scary!” (Y/N) laughed in a way that told them was good scary, her face smooshed into Jaspers chest. He spun them around a few times before setting the little one on their feet.
“That was so cool!” Alice praised, giving them a kiss on the cheek.
“Right?!” (Y/N) replied, beaming. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Of course,” Alice replied, smiling at them. “Now we should probably head home. It’s getting late.”
“Yeah,” Jasper agreed. “Let’s get in the car.”
#twilight fanfiction#twilight#ai fanfic#ai fanfiction#ai twilight fic#twilight fic#Alice x Reader#Jasper x reader#Alice/Jasper x reader#sfw littlespace#little reader#Jasper x little#Alice x little#age regression#sfw agere
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I realized something this morning and it feels like it’s important so I want to write it down.
I’m not great at tumble - for what it’s worth this post is about my life and not my usual cute animals and fun facts.
For the first time in a long time I wish I had a therapist to talk to.
Anyway.
In no particular order, here’s a list of things about me.
When i was a young lad I was a straight A student. This despite the fact that I didn’t do the readings and was often sent out in the hall during English class. When I went to college I struggled - with every class not just English - developed clinical depression, and dropped out.
As a part of that depression, it felt like part of my brain didn’t work. It was like a very thing vertical slice right in the back was frozen. I would get headaches and my whole head would hurt except that one slice, I thought maybe (but probably not) I had a tumor.
I’ve never been good at romantic relationships. It felt like the rest of the world knew something I didn’t - something that told them I was a bad partner and to be avoided.
I really like dungeons and dragons/fantasy and like the idea of being a writer. I’ve always thought I had good instincts for good writing versus bad writing, but my own writing was always terrible.
Anyway.
This morning I realized the obvious - because I didn’t do the readings in school, I never learned how to correctly interpret the text. Well, I can understand obvious literature just fine, but the subtle draw-conclusions part. The identify the author’s themes part. That I couldn’t do. I had generally dismissed a lot of this as bullshit, numerology and horoscopes. People seeing patterns that weren’t there. After all I was a straight A student - including English.
But today when I woke up it finally dawned on me it wasn’t bullshit, and teachers tried to teach me it for years but I didn’t even read the books. Probably if I had I’d be a better writer. My D&d games would be of a higher quality and the stories I want to tell would be getting told.
Also - the frozen part of my brain feels like it’s on fire. Maybe this is an idea that I just couldn’t handle in my college drop out depression era? And meds + therapy + loving kittens have improved things?
Or maybe this is self hatred rearing its ugly head in a new and different way.
My final conclusion was to think of my life as a character described in a book. Maybe one of those books my English teacher would assign and I wouldn’t read.
My apartment is messy, I’m late all the time, my bed isn’t made. My fridge is full of moldy leftovers and very little edible food - only enough to make like five recipes.
If an author in one of those English class books were to describe me - what conclusions would the class come to? Maybe this is the thing I was missing. Maybe this is the thing the rest of the world has known and I don’t.
If an author in one of those English class books were to describe the people around me - what conclusions would I come to? Have I been really unempathetic this whole time? Based on the evidence in the “text” have there been facts about those around me I just straight up didn’t notice? Have I been ignorantly trampling through social interactions everyone else was aware of?
I don’t know. I wouldn’t come to any conclusions. If an author described my life I’d be out in the hall, still not reading the book.
Anyway.
The depression part of my brain feels like it turned on after being off for 12+ years. Maybe longer. So I wanted to write it down.
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I feel this so hard. School fucked me up badly--I got my autism diagnosis a week after graduating college, so I never had an educational accommodation, and my literal interpretation of assignments combined with my slow processing speed meant I did basically nothing but homework from ages 10 to 21, which unsurprisingly meant I was suicidal on and off throughout all of high school and college.
And. The school I attended for first through eighth grades was a beautiful haven in a lot of ways. It was a public magnet school for kids who had tested as gifted and talented, and there were so many twice-exceptional (gifted + disabled) kids that a lot of the teachers were doing universal design before it was cool.
We had really interesting creative projects/festivals in almost every grade--the Frog Olympics in second grade, concluding a unit on frogs with competitions involving origami frogs we made; a play in third grade about the history of our city (somewhat white-washed, unfortunately, but still); also in third grade, the Unidentified Flying Bug unit and the Animal Research Unit (the former involved learning about insects and then making up our own imaginary insects, which we then made physical models of and pretended to be experts on, and the latter involved doing a bunch of research on a specific animal of our choosing and making a book about them); the Wax Museum (research project on a famous person of our choosing) and Medieval Feast (festival at the end of our unit on the Middle Ages, with everyone in costume) in fourth grade; the Greek Gods and Goddesses Fashion Show in sixth grade; etc.
I felt loved and cared for in the eight years I attended that school, and moving to a significantly larger high school where I felt like a number rather than a person was a shock to the system. But even in high school, I got a world-class education despite being at an inner-city Title I public school on a shoe-string budget. I did the full International Baccalaureate diploma program in high school, in addition to taking nine AP tests, with all my tests subsidized heavily by the school because they subsidized everyone's standardized tests. And yeah, going that hard in high school almost killed me, but I also learned so much.
The International Baccalaureate cohort in particular felt like a group of 22 of us who were majoring in everything at once, together--we could discuss the philosophical implications of mathematical axioms and point out incorrect scientific assumptions in the poetry we read in English, because we were all studying all of the subjects pretty intensely. I missed that intellectual community so much when I went to college and found that people basically only cared about the one subject they were majoring in, if even that.
My sixth grade writing teacher changed my life forever, both by getting me into creative writing and by teaching me basically all the grammar and punctuation rules in the Chicago Manual of Style. My tenth grade English teacher created a community in her class that helped me learn to appreciate my peers, even those who were less academically inclined than I was. My high school econ teacher was the best adult in my life at a time when I deeply needed non-parent adults to care about me, and we're still friends.
Now my sister is a high school English teacher, and I'm so impressed by her. She pushes back against the racism in her department's curriculum. She purchases diverse YA books for her students to read so that they can see themselves in literature. She stands up for students who need accommodations, even when her colleagues advocate "tough love." Students confide in her to the point where she helped a pregnant student call Planned Parenthood when this student couldn't trust her parents for support.
I know my sister isn't perfect, and I know most teachers aren't doing as much to support and care for students as she is. I know many of us had some horrible experiences in the education system, and I know there exist teachers who should absolutely be fired but haven't been. But it's a messy and complicated and multi-faceted world out there, and there exist things that don't suck.
"the public education system is intently evil and all teachers are abusive because it was the worst experience ever for me personally"
guys, look, I'm legitimately sorry that happened to you. that's fucked up. it shouldn't have happened, and it shouldn't be allowed to happen again to you or anyone else. I'm sorry.
public school was hard for me too, at times, and I'm still suffering the consequences for the harsh grading, the arbitrary deadlines, the hours of completely useless-to-me homework. I could name a few teachers who have been pretty fucking terrible. the fact that nobody considered getting me evaluated for ADHD has had an impact on my self image and academic success that I can't erase.
and also.
I grew up in an area where education, in particular, is incredibly progressive-leaning. educators are working really hard to create and try out education philosophies and practices that prioritize kids and their learning, rather than teachers and what they think kids should learn.
My sex ed was comprehensive, and came entirely from school. My gay sixth grade teacher taught me about HIV/AIDs in a useful, accurate way. In high school, I learned about the way orgasms work & I was prepared not to feel shame for normal stuff.
I learned that Communism was not what the USSR actually practiced, and what it really means. I learned about atrocities and, specifically, the genocide of indigenous people committed in/by the US. I learned about the military industrial complex, the school-to-prison pipeline, and I learned about manifestations of racism specific to my local area. I learned about Stonewall, and the intersection of the civil rights movement with gay rights and disability justice.
My creative writing teacher taught us about LSD, and the real reasons we shouldn't do it, after a hilariously ineffective assembly run by some local cops. He spoke gently, carefully, and emphatically about his friends and his own experiences. Later in the semester, he read us a story he wrote about two gay men finding each other in a deeply homophobic environment.
My sci-fi teacher made me feel safe & seen as a kid with "weird" interests. My US History teacher helped me research and put together a 10-page paper on the modern relevance and mission of Feminism. My government teacher made me feel appreciated for the work I put into the class, and the thought I put into what I said in it, even though he disagreed with a lot of it. My sixth grade teacher bought me books to read with his personal money, whichever ones I asked for. My third grade teacher made me feel safe. My science teacher in middle school made me excited for and passionate about science, and saw and nurtured the effort I put into her class.
A lot of stuff sucks, absolutely. But I am seeing new teaching methods being tried out all the time, and I am watching teachers get really excited when I teach their students about the roots of modern graffiti in US black history & to question property laws, and just...
There's hope. there are so many people doing so much work to make things better. so many people agree with you on what education should be, and are trying so fucking hard to put that into action, and so many public schools- not just teachers, but whole schools and even districts- are really doing that work. so much is getting better.
I had more to say, about necessary childcare and trusted adults and outside contacts and time away from abusive family. But like. Please just sit down and listen to more people on this, and please talk to educators and education professionals about what's really going on in this big huge world of philosophy, science, and practice.
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December 2 22:42
Day 108
So here I go again.
Not much happened today, it felt pretty normal at school. I had a bit of a headache, but it might have been because of my extremely tight underskirt. Anyway, the only thing worth mentioning about my day was the culture class. I spent the last 30 minutes of the lesson reading forward in my book, Mornings in Jenin. We have to read it for our english class. Stina gave me a heads up weeks ago about a particular chapter that will break my heart, and so it did. Amal, the main character lost her husband and sister-in-law to the brutal massare Israelis commited in Beirut. Her sister in-laws unborn baby was cut out of her belly, that part broke me like nothing else before. The most painful part is the fact that this is reality, as I’m writing this it’s happening to someone in Palestine and Lebanon. What is even sadder on my part, is that my father is supporting this. I thought being away from him would bring me some peace, but every day I’m growing more and more hatred for him as I’m getting close to people he despises and would disapprove of me being friends with. I know I can do it though: I can overcome this hatred, I will never be fed this again and nothing else he tried to convince me about.
The belly dance lesson was cancelled today as usual, I honestly was a bit relieved by it, I don’t enjoy it much. The only reason I do it is because I have no sense of rhythm, I suck at dancing or moving in a more feminine way, I hate that I even have to use that word. I don’t feel very sexy nowadays, I feel weak and insecure, I feel like I’m trembling and stumbling every step I make. I shouldn’t even care, this is all men that I want to appeal to. Don’t get me wrong, it feels so peaceful not being pursued by any male here, I don’t crave their validation but seems like the male gaze is inescapable for a teenage girl. There's this guy from Switzerland who's also an exchange student. It's strange even writing this about him, since he doesn't matter, but this is for the future me so I guess I can provide at least a bit of cringe with this story, in case I don't remember it. I remember his eyes constantly laying on me back in the arrival camp, I could tell it was lust, I did not care for it. We only met again on the 5th of October in Sävsjö, at Leif's house. He continued to look at me, this time maybe with a little more admiration then sexual desire. Turns out, he's actually pretty educated on certain topics, he asked me personal questions and seemed interested in me. He's meeting up with another girl nowadays, he was just a bit desperate for a girlfriend after all. I have seen this before, it's always me that ends up being perceived only as an option, or simply something pretty they can treat as a trophy. I am proud to admit that as much as I am longing for a deep love, by someone who truly sees me for who I am, it is not my goal anymore. My safety and mental health is number one priority for me, that I promised myself when I became aware of the hook-up culture and well-hidden misogyny here in Sweden. I will not risk anything for a man. I will try to create friendships that provide the same things I want from a man. I wish I could find a better way to communicate my thoughts, I know I struggled with that when I wrote my journal back when I was 12. This diary will be more detailed, and hopefully much less embarrassing to look back at, although I sure have a lot of maturing to do.
After dinner Stella asked me to teach her some hungarian. She was extremely good at it! She was also very proud of herself and went to tell each word to her parents right away. I am extremely tired now, I'll continue tomorrow when I have more energy to reflect on my thoughts.
Songs for today:
DNA- Tom's Diner
Parno Graszt- Ez a világ amilyen nagy
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Ok, a post got me thinking about my dad again and I just need to get some things out.
I loved my dad. Everyone always says I take after my mom, but that’s not true. I got a lot from her, don’t get me wrong, but I think I got more from him. I got puzzles from my dad. Every Christmas you would see dad, my sister, and me all hovering over that year’s puzzle while mom and my brother opted to do anything else.
I got lord of the rings from my dad. He had this giant illustrated edition of the hobbit when I was growing up. All three of us kids brought it to school when our English class was assigned to read it. I just bought a $75 special edition of the hobbit. My friends were teasing me because I didn’t realize the price until I checked out. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them I would have paid anything because the illustrations were the same as my dad’s copy.
I got my love of tools from my dad. I was fascinated by his tools. I used to steal a screwdriver and take my toys apart and put them back together so I could be like him. He would ask me to help whenever mom bought something that needed to be assembled. He’d use those times to teach me how to use a hammer, how to identify the best tool for the job, and how to sometimes throw out the instructions because they just aren’t working. He built the most amazing things. He built a massive deck for our house. When I asked if we could try vegetable gardening, he built these great big planters so we could have tomatoes and bell peppers.
I got my love of math from him. It’s a little spooky how my career trajectory echos his. He got a business degree, I got a business degree. He majored in accounting, I minored in it. He was a banker for several years, I was a teller for several years and am now doing payroll for a bank. Is this where I thought my life would lead growing up? No, I was going to be a teacher, then an engineer, then a photojournalist, then maybe a chemical engineer. I ended up a business major because I couldn’t settle on anything. So I just kept coming back to math and accounting and numbers because I inherited his brain. Plus one of his favorite games was cribbage. Do you know how much rapid fire math is in that game? Do you know how many silly little number rhymes he had?? Fifteen two, that’s all for you. Fifteen two, fifteen four, t’ain’t no more. That might be the only time I’ve ever heard someone use that particular contraction, btw. There ain’t no more just doesn’t have the right flow.
We would binge shows and movies together. One of my favorite memories is watching John Wick with him. His als had progressed to a point t where he couldn’t safely stay home by himself. So mom would ask me to dadsit anytime she went on a trip. Mostly that just meant I was responsible for “cooking” (we ate a lot of subway that week). Somehow the topic of John Wick came up and he realized I’d never seen any of them. So three days in a row followed the routine of me getting off work, running to pick up dinner, then settling in for the next installment. We did the same with lord of the rings when I got hired at my previous job. It was our celebration. And we got through most of psych like that (although he watched ahead a couple times. I think I get my impatience from him too lol).
I got music from him. Literally actually. I have his saxophone. He played the sax and the bass guitar. I play piano, flute, piccolo, a smidge of sax, and a dash of ukulele. I grew up on stories of his time in his high school band. He was apparently part of an award winning jazz band. I don’t think I ever played with him though. Sure he showed me a couple things on the saxophone, but we really should have done a duet at some point.
I’ve noticed I have a couple of his quirks too. I stick my tongue out the same way he did when he was concentrating. I have his tendency to exaggerate, though I do try to rein that in. I’ll randomly sing things like him. Not things that remind me of songs, I’ll just sing filler words while I think. Got that from him.
Anyway, I mostly just wanted to get this down because I occasionally have this fear that I’ll forget him if I don’t record things about him somewhere. I know that’s probably not true, but also my memory is terrible. I’m afraid that one day I’ll try to think of something and all I’ll have is his name and a feeling of loss.
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Drunk text me
Request: hii can i request a max fic inspired by the song drunk text me? you can decide if it ends angsty or fluffy! thank youuu :)
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader | Charles Leclerc x Reader (platonic) | Pierre Gasly x reader (platonic) | Daniel Ricciardo x reader (platonic)
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cheating. Max cheats on the reader with Kelly, no shame to her, it was just for the plot. Cursing. Please tell me if I have missed anything.
Word Count: 3.3k
Masterlist
Considering you were in your 20s, “the best time of your life”, you were disappointed. Instead of going to one of the famous clubs that your friends liked to go to on Friday nights, you were in your dorm room, your phone face up, waiting for some kind of text. Better said, a particular text. It was sad to think about how you were taking the opportunity of him being drunk because maybe he would text you. You were waiting for some badly spelled text, that somehow begged for you to take him back, to forgive him for what he had done.
You met the F1 star in an interesting way. You lived in Italy, this was your third year. You had been accepted into a university in Rome, on full scholarship, so you took the opportunity, and you found yourself living in Rome, as a college student that barely got by with Italian. The good thing was that the University put you in the same room as a native girl, María, who was nice and patient enough to teach you the new language. it didn’t take you long to speak Italian, fluently, thanks to your friend. María was actually the one responsible for you meeting Max. She had dragged you to an F1 race, insisting that you would like it and that the racers were bellissimo. You went with semi-interest, but María had gotten tickets thanks to her dad, who had some contacts and pulled some strings for the two of you to go. You got good seats, and even if you hadn’t been the biggest fan of fast cars, you had to admit it was captivating, to see the vehicles going at crazy speeds. María, thanks to the combination of some membership pass and her dad, had managed to be invited to an after-party organized by Red Bull. Surprisingly, you were interested in going. Classes had been a true pain the whole month, and you were nervous about a presentation you had to do two days ago, so free booze was a good way to get your mind off things.
Two Red Bull racers had gotten Podium positions, so the party was very lively. You couldn’t help but wonder how uncomfortable the vent would’ve been if they hadn’t won, and you kept pondering on that while María was talking to some guy she knew from events like this. Your friend had made you promise that you wouldn’t think about school and loosen up a little. Once you finished your drink, you went to the bar and get another one. While waiting, making sure your eyes never left the waiter making your drink, a taller figure stood behind you.
“Hello! Have we met?” You turned around, finding a fairly attractive guy. The bartender set you the drink, and you thanked him. You looked again at the guy, confused by his sudden interruption of your mindless thoughts.
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m Charles.” He had an interesting accent, one you couldn’t pinpoint, but you could tell he wasn’t a native English speaker. You weren’t surprised about that. Everyone in Europe had a second language, at least, and English was the most common one to have.
“Y/N.” Charles took the seat beside you, signaling the bartender to come back for another drink.
“Are you related to any of the racers?”
“No, I’m here with a friend, she had passed.” Charles nodded and told the man what drink he wanted.
“Cool. You don’t sound Italian.”
“No, I’m here for college.” He gave you an impressed look.
“Wow, what are you studying?” You told him about your classes, and how you got the scholarship. After some time of him avoiding your questions about his job, another man came to the pair of you.
“Charles, what is taking you so long?” This man you did recognize, no introduction needed. Max Verstappen had just approached you, and referred to your conversation companion by his first name, meaning they knew each other. Verstappen, once he noticed you, didn’t shift his gaze from your face. “Max Verstappen.” He introduced himself in a cocky way, that normally would’ve been a turn-off for you, but you already had some drinks in you, so you let it pass.
“Max, this is my friend, Y/N.” You looked at Charles surprised, not expecting him to refer to you as his friend. “She’s really cool.” You waved at Max and gave him a smile.
“Nice to meet you.” You shook hands, and that for a second threw you off, used to kiss people as a hello. “What did you think of the race? Charles, at some point, left to be with the rest of the group he came with. You and Max spoke until maría came to get you, saying that some annoying guy was not getting the signals. You excused yourself from Max and left with your friend. Once outside, María asked for every detail, after she said she had seen you also with Charles Leclerc.
Once back in your dorm, when María was already knocked out cold, your phone lit up.
Thinking back, it was weird to see how everything has changed. You were now in your fourth year in university and were crying for the one and only Max Verstappen. You weren’t crying right now, you were too drained, but it was what you were doing for the last week. After the night at the party, and his texts, you had met up several times, becoming closer, until you asked him out on a date date, as you had phrased it.
It had been a great year, you and Max both putting a lot of effort into the relationship, considering you were busy studying, and he was racing all over the glove. it had worked very well, so far. Whenever he was free and you had school, he would come to Italy and spend time with you whenever you were free. If you both had a vacation, he would fly you to Monaco, where he lived during the off-season. Being long-distance was good for the two of you. You could focus on your career, and he could focus on his and would have time to text and videocall at certain hours.
María had left to spend the night with her partner, who she had met during a college party in someone’s big ass house. They were cute together, and you couldn’t be more grateful for Cameron, considering they were the reason you were alone in your room.
Your breakup had been nasty, to say the least. During the Brazilin Grand Prix, some interesting pictures had been trending on Twitter and Instagram. You had met Kelly Piquet before, and you had never thought what happened was going to happen. When the first pictures of them showed up, you dismissed them after seeing them, not thinking anything of them at a party in Brazil. She was almost ten years his senior, a mother, and the ex of another F1 driver. Why would you suspect anything from it? The first round of pictures of them together, you ignored, the second one was impossible to.
The pictures were a total of five, and it seemed as if they went in order. The first one was them together, facing the camera. Innocent, a picture of two friends. The second one that went viral, was of them in the background, talking to each other. Innocent, a picture of two friends. The third, was of Max’s arm going around her waist. Innocent? Fourth, her arms around his neck. Fifth, the two of them in what seemed like a heavy makeout session. Once you saw this one, you started calling Max, wanting some sort of explanation. Maybe they were photoshopped, or of two people that looked a lot like them. Maybe maybe maybe. These were your thoughts that Sunday morning, ready to defend him once he explained himself. During Sunday lunch with your friends, no one brought Max up, unusual, considering that after his races, he would somehow be mentioned. You could tell they knew, you knew they knew. But you had good friends, who were able to read the room and know that now wasn’t the moment.
You had called Max a total of fifteen times and decided to let him call you, knowing that maybe you seemed hysterical. You were being hysterical, because they were fake, 100%. Right?
You never got a call from Max that Sunday. Your dd did, and that one was enlightening.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, dad.”
“What have I always told you?”
“Education and career go first, boys second.” You didn’t have a perfect relationship with your dad, not many people did. But he had been very firm about this topic. Your dad knew the importance of your career and was very proud of every scholarship, and academic win you had. He didn’t tell you this, but your mom would text you to tell you. He was very proud once you told him about your relationship dynamic with Max. He was proud you hadn’t dropped everything you had worked for for a race car driver that could promise you the world. And looking back, you had made a splendid choice.
“I know it hurts right now, but this just means he wasn’t the one. Stay strong honey, you can do this.” The conversation ended soon after, and it left you looking out the window of your dorm.
Charles Daniel and Pierre had texted you, but you didn’t feel like reading what they had to say, whatever they had to say. You just wanted Max to tell you it was all a confusion, some hateful fan that wanted to hurt you. But him taking so long had started to be suspicious, and at the end of that Sunday, you decided to not think too much into it, maybe it was meant to be.
Tuesday morning, while you were completing some assignments during your free period, you got a call. Not from who you now thought of as your ex, but his best friend.
“Daniel.”
“Y/N.”
“What’s up?” You wanted to act nonchalant as if you hadn’t cried whenever you weren’t drowning in work and coffee.
“I know you’ve seen the pictures.” You looked into your document, focusing on the small letters that just looked like squiggly lines if you concentrated enough.
“I have.”
“Have you spoken to Max?”
“I haven’t.” You heard him sigh on the other side, but couldn’t say if he was doing it for you or him.
“How’re you doing? How’re you feeling?”
“Well, I was sad at the beginning. Now I’m just humiliated and angry, weirdly, I feel empty.” You played with the thread of your sweater. “Everyone has seen those pictures, and I’m now the latest gossip on campus. It’s been a week and they’re still talking about my boyfriend making out with a Brazilian model ten years his senior. I’m angry because he hasn’t contacted me at all, and has ignored my calls. At least he could face me, tell me the truth, give me closure and let me move on.” You could feel the hot angry tears well up in your eyes. “I want him to call me, tell me he never loved me, so that I can forget him and everything related to him.”
“Charles has been worried about you, me, and Pierre too.” You had developed a very close friendship with the trio. You had different relationships with each, but they were all close nonetheless.
“I want him to make me forget him. I want to never feel related to anything F1, ever again.” Daniel’s breath hitched.
“I understand how you feel, but how can you do this radical cut?”
“You do not understand how I feel. You will never understand how I feel. And losing this relationship won’t be a loss.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I’m pretty sure I am.”
“What about Charles, Pierre, and I?”
“Did you tell me anything when you suspected something from Max?”
“Y/N.” You could tell he was close to crying, but you couldn’t care less, considering you could feel your tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Did you?”
“We didn’t want to interfere with your relationship.”
“Then I guess I cannot keep up this friendship. You choose sides, Daniel, even if you now think he’s the asshole or whatever, you choose sides the moment you ignored the first sign.”
“Y/N.”
“Leave me alone.” You hung up after finishing your sentence, soon feeling bad, thinking you had been a bit overboard.
Soon, Charles’ contact came up on your screen, and you accepted it. Charles was on the phone with you for a total of an hour and a half, listening to you, while trying not to cry himself. He had to wipe his tears away several times, not understanding how a heart could break this way. While hearing you, the Monaguesque had plotted the Red Bull driver’s death at least ten times, slowly hating him more and more as the call progressed.
When the pictures had first reached the internet, once the trio knew, they went to get an explanation from Max. The Dutchman, who had just woken up to an empty bed (that was not how it was when he went to sleep), was slowly coming to terms with what had happened. He initially put the blame on the person taking the pictures, saying it was a violation of his privacy and that he was going to sue. Pierre was about to rip his hair out when he heard that from their friend. Max, after seeing that his friends still expected accountability for him, decided to inform them that he had never loved you, that you were just easy and quick entertainment.
The three of them caught the lie very early on, knowing that the times he had come to the hotel, eyes shining and a dumb smile on his features weren’t a sign of lack of love. But Max was max, and if he wanted to take that route, then so be it. Charles and Daniel were already leaving the room, shoulders tense and trying to contain their anger. Pierre decided to have the last word.
“If she cuts ties with us because of your dumb mistake. I will never forgive you.” The blond slammed the door, and once outside, looked at his two other friends. “How could he say that? He always had a reserved seat for her, whenever she could come to the races. He wouldn’t stop smiling at his phone whenever they texted. He canceled plans with us because maybe she was free and they could video call. How could he say that shit?” Daniel looked forward, back towards their friend’s door.
“He’ll see his mistake, but I believe it will be too late.”
Charles, even if he hadn’t told the Dutchman when Pierre had, had come to the same terms. If you were going to stop spending time with them because of Max, they would cut ties with him, so that you didn’t associate them with him. At the end of the call, you had fallen asleep, drained from crying so hard, and Charles hung up from the unresponsive line after a long and loud sigh.
Pierre called you the next day and came to terms with the fact that the relationship was over, you were done with Max Verstappen. But he could tell that your words were somewhat empty. Pierre knew that if Max called you, told you that he was sorry, got on his knees, and begged for you to forgive him, you would give him a second chance. But Verstappen didn’t kneel for anyone, probably not even the woman that had made him a better person during the span of a year and a few months. Pierre also knew Max wasn’t happy with his choice. He wanted you back, the Frenchman could and would swear on it.
Max felt shitty. Max Verstappen, felt like utter shit. Max Emilian Verstappen felt like the shitiest person in the world. During the time since the pictures had become public to the world, he had cried, had anger outbursts, and punched more than one wall. He knew, that if Y/N could see her, she wouldn’t have been amused. She would be beside him, hugging him, telling him that he could talk to her about anything and that she would sit and listen unless he specifically told her he wanted advice or something of the sort. Max Emilian Verstappen felt deeply flawed, he felt as if he had destroyed the only thing that made him happy. Y/N had been understanding, patient, reasonable, and empathic, many other things he needed in his life. She had been a form of stability, someone he knew he could count on, at any moment. Any time he was angry about a race, or some incident with Christian Horner, and his dad, she was always there and knew how to calm him down. Y/N knew whether he needed space, silent company, hugs, a silent bath, or any other thing to help him relax. And he blew it.
Max Emilian Verstappen destroyed the only relationship that had made him feel whole. And he did it on his own. For some time, he tried to blame Y/N, and find a way to justify his actions. But whenever he came with something, he knew it was far-fetched and unfair to her, and to him, once he realized he was only lying to himself. He then tried to blame Kelly, for tempting him to be in a relationship with her, but at the end of the day, he was the one in a relationship, not her.
Max Emilian Verstappen had spent any free moment, drunk of his ass. Trying to forget the massive mistake he had done. Of course, it wasn’t that easy. Once he could feel the tell-tale signs of drunkness, he could only think of you. If he focused enough, he could hear your voice and feel your touch. If he focused enough, he could ignore he destroyed your heart and keep living in the fantasy where you were waiting for him back in Italy, with crazy stories about some of your professors that had lost their minds during their time working at the University.
Daniel, knowing this was the new hobby Max had started, was perfectly aware of where his friend was. It was hard for Daniel. Pierre and Charles had clearly chosen sides, but it was easier for them. Their relationship with Max wasn’t as close as with you. They hadn’t been Max’s teammates, they hadn’t seen Max grow into the person he was now since the beginning. It was easier for them to choose sides because he was the asshole, you were the victim, and you were just as close to them as Max was. Daniel didn’t have the same easy choice. But whenever he had to go down to the bar in the hotel, after being called by whoever was downstairs, Daniel knew he had to stay near Max, seeing him so drunk he wasn’t able to form coherent sentences, even open his eyes, made Daniel realize that even if max had destroyed your relationship, him not having you was punishment enough.
“Let’s go, Max, time for bed.” The younger man had his phone on, a chat lighting up the screen.
You did get the drunk message you wanted, but it was too late. Once it reached your screen, you knew it was too late, that he had taken too long.
He had made his bed, and now he had to lay in it.
AN: This was a long one, but I'm proud of how it turned out. If anyone has any requests for Verstappen, Ricciardo, Leclerc, or Gasly, feel free to send them to my inbox, and I'll try my best.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#verstappen#f1#daniel ricciardo#charles leclerc#pierre gasly#x reader#imagine#oneshot#request#runawayolives#x you#x y/n
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Drunk text me
Request: hii can i request a max fic inspired by the song drunk text me? you can decide if it ends angsty or fluffy! thank youuu :)
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader | Charles Leclerc x Reader (platonic) | Pierre Gasly x reader (platonic) | Daniel Ricciardo x reader (platonic)
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cheating. Max cheats on the reader with Kelly, no shame to her, it was just for the plot. Cursing. Please tell me if I have missed anything.
Word Count: 3.3k
Considering you were in your 20s, “the best time of your life”, you were disappointed. Instead of going to one of the famous clubs that your friends liked to go to on Friday nights, you were in your dorm room, your phone face up, waiting for some kind of text. Better said, a particular text. It was sad to think about how you were taking the opportunity of him being drunk because maybe he would text you. You were waiting for some badly spelled text, that somehow begged for you to take him back, to forgive him for what he had done.
You met the F1 star in an interesting way. You lived in Italy, this was your third year. You had been accepted into a university in Rome, on full scholarship, so you took the opportunity, and you found yourself living in Rome, as a college student that barely got by with Italian. The good thing was that the University put you in the same room as a native girl, María, who was nice and patient enough to teach you the new language. it didn’t take you long to speak Italian, fluently, thanks to your friend. María was actually the one responsible for you meeting Max. She had dragged you to an F1 race, insisting that you would like it and that the racers were bellissimo. You went with semi-interest, but María had gotten tickets thanks to her dad, who had some contacts and pulled some strings for the two of you to go. You got good seats, and even if you hadn’t been the biggest fan of fast cars, you had to admit it was captivating, to see the vehicles going at crazy speeds. María, thanks to the combination of some membership pass and her dad, had managed to be invited to an after-party organized by Red Bull. Surprisingly, you were interested in going. Classes had been a true pain the whole month, and you were nervous about a presentation you had to do two days ago, so free booze was a good way to get your mind off things.
Two Red Bull racers had gotten Podium positions, so the party was very lively. You couldn’t help but wonder how uncomfortable the vent would’ve been if they hadn’t won, and you kept pondering on that while María was talking to some guy she knew from events like this. Your friend had made you promise that you wouldn’t think about school and loosen up a little. Once you finished your drink, you went to the bar and get another one. While waiting, making sure your eyes never left the waiter making your drink, a taller figure stood behind you.
“Hello! Have we met?” You turned around, finding a fairly attractive guy. The bartender set you the drink, and you thanked him. You looked again at the guy, confused by his sudden interruption of your mindless thoughts.
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m Charles.” He had an interesting accent, one you couldn’t pinpoint, but you could tell he wasn’t a native English speaker. You weren’t surprised about that. Everyone in Europe had a second language, at least, and English was the most common one to have.
“Y/N.” Charles took the seat beside you, signaling the bartender to come back for another drink.
“Are you related to any of the racers?”
“No, I’m here with a friend, she had passed.” Charles nodded and told the man what drink he wanted.
“Cool. You don’t sound Italian.”
“No, I’m here for college.” He gave you an impressed look.
“Wow, what are you studying?” You told him about your classes, and how you got the scholarship. After some time of him avoiding your questions about his job, another man came to the pair of you.
“Charles, what is taking you so long?” This man you did recognize, no introduction needed. Max Verstappen had just approached you, and referred to your conversation companion by his first name, meaning they knew each other. Verstappen, once he noticed you, didn’t shift his gaze from your face. “Max Verstappen.” He introduced himself in a cocky way, that normally would’ve been a turn-off for you, but you already had some drinks in you, so you let it pass.
“Max, this is my friend, Y/N.” You looked at Charles surprised, not expecting him to refer to you as his friend. “She’s really cool.” You waved at Max and gave him a smile.
“Nice to meet you.” You shook hands, and that for a second threw you off, used to kiss people as a hello. “What did you think of the race? Charles, at some point, left to be with the rest of the group he came with. You and Max spoke until maría came to get you, saying that some annoying guy was not getting the signals. You excused yourself from Max and left with your friend. Once outside, María asked for every detail, after she said she had seen you also with Charles Leclerc.
Once back in your dorm, when María was already knocked out cold, your phone lit up.
Thinking back, it was weird to see how everything has changed. You were now in your fourth year in university and were crying for the one and only Max Verstappen. You weren’t crying right now, you were too drained, but it was what you were doing for the last week. After the night at the party, and his texts, you had met up several times, becoming closer, until you asked him out on a date date, as you had phrased it.
It had been a great year, you and Max both putting a lot of effort into the relationship, considering you were busy studying, and he was racing all over the glove. it had worked very well, so far. Whenever he was free and you had school, he would come to Italy and spend time with you whenever you were free. If you both had a vacation, he would fly you to Monaco, where he lived during the off-season. Being long-distance was good for the two of you. You could focus on your career, and he could focus on his and would have time to text and videocall at certain hours.
María had left to spend the night with her partner, who she had met during a college party in someone’s big ass house. They were cute together, and you couldn’t be more grateful for Cameron, considering they were the reason you were alone in your room.
Your breakup had been nasty, to say the least. During the Brazilin Grand Prix, some interesting pictures had been trending on Twitter and Instagram. You had met Kelly Piquet before, and you had never thought what happened was going to happen. When the first pictures of them showed up, you dismissed them after seeing them, not thinking anything of them at a party in Brazil. She was almost ten years his senior, a mother, and the ex of another F1 driver. Why would you suspect anything from it? The first round of pictures of them together, you ignored, the second one was impossible to.
The pictures were a total of five, and it seemed as if they went in order. The first one was them together, facing the camera. Innocent, a picture of two friends. The second one that went viral, was of them in the background, talking to each other. Innocent, a picture of two friends. The third, was of Max’s arm going around her waist. Innocent? Fourth, her arms around his neck. Fifth, the two of them in what seemed like a heavy makeout session. Once you saw this one, you started calling Max, wanting some sort of explanation. Maybe they were photoshopped, or of two people that looked a lot like them. Maybe maybe maybe. These were your thoughts that Sunday morning, ready to defend him once he explained himself. During Sunday lunch with your friends, no one brought Max up, unusual, considering that after his races, he would somehow be mentioned. You could tell they knew, you knew they knew. But you had good friends, who were able to read the room and know that now wasn’t the moment.
You had called Max a total of fifteen times and decided to let him call you, knowing that maybe you seemed hysterical. You were being hysterical, because they were fake, 100%. Right?
You never got a call from Max that Sunday. Your dd did, and that one was enlightening.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, dad.”
“What have I always told you?”
“Education and career go first, boys second.” You didn’t have a perfect relationship with your dad, not many people did. But he had been very firm about this topic. Your dad knew the importance of your career and was very proud of every scholarship, and academic win you had. He didn’t tell you this, but your mom would text you to tell you. He was very proud once you told him about your relationship dynamic with Max. He was proud you hadn’t dropped everything you had worked for for a race car driver that could promise you the world. And looking back, you had made a splendid choice.
“I know it hurts right now, but this just means he wasn’t the one. Stay strong honey, you can do this.” The conversation ended soon after, and it left you looking out the window of your dorm.
Charles Daniel and Pierre had texted you, but you didn’t feel like reading what they had to say, whatever they had to say. You just wanted Max to tell you it was all a confusion, some hateful fan that wanted to hurt you. But him taking so long had started to be suspicious, and at the end of that Sunday, you decided to not think too much into it, maybe it was meant to be.
Tuesday morning, while you were completing some assignments during your free period, you got a call. Not from who you now thought of as your ex, but his best friend.
“Daniel.”
“Y/N.”
“What’s up?” You wanted to act nonchalant as if you hadn’t cried whenever you weren’t drowning in work and coffee.
“I know you’ve seen the pictures.” You looked into your document, focusing on the small letters that just looked like squiggly lines if you concentrated enough.
“I have.”
“Have you spoken to Max?”
“I haven’t.” You heard him sigh on the other side, but couldn’t say if he was doing it for you or him.
“How’re you doing? How’re you feeling?”
“Well, I was sad at the beginning. Now I’m just humiliated and angry, weirdly, I feel empty.” You played with the thread of your sweater. “Everyone has seen those pictures, and I’m now the latest gossip on campus. It’s been a week and they’re still talking about my boyfriend making out with a Brazilian model ten years his senior. I’m angry because he hasn’t contacted me at all, and has ignored my calls. At least he could face me, tell me the truth, give me closure and let me move on.” You could feel the hot angry tears well up in your eyes. “I want him to call me, tell me he never loved me, so that I can forget him and everything related to him.”
“Charles has been worried about you, me, and Pierre too.” You had developed a very close friendship with the trio. You had different relationships with each, but they were all close nonetheless.
“I want him to make me forget him. I want to never feel related to anything F1, ever again.” Daniel’s breath hitched.
“I understand how you feel, but how can you do this radical cut?”
“You do not understand how I feel. You will never understand how I feel. And losing this relationship won’t be a loss.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I’m pretty sure I am.”
“What about Charles, Pierre, and I?”
“Did you tell me anything when you suspected something from Max?”
“Y/N.” You could tell he was close to crying, but you couldn’t care less, considering you could feel your tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Did you?”
“We didn’t want to interfere with your relationship.”
“Then I guess I cannot keep up this friendship. You choose sides, Daniel, even if you now think he’s the asshole or whatever, you choose sides the moment you ignored the first sign.”
“Y/N.”
“Leave me alone.” You hung up after finishing your sentence, soon feeling bad, thinking you had been a bit overboard.
Soon, Charles’ contact came up on your screen, and you accepted it. Charles was on the phone with you for a total of an hour and a half, listening to you, while trying not to cry himself. He had to wipe his tears away several times, not understanding how a heart could break this way. While hearing you, the Monaguesque had plotted the Red Bull driver’s death at least ten times, slowly hating him more and more as the call progressed.
When the pictures had first reached the internet, once the trio knew, they went to get an explanation from Max. The Dutchman, who had just woken up to an empty bed (that was not how it was when he went to sleep), was slowly coming to terms with what had happened. He initially put the blame on the person taking the pictures, saying it was a violation of his privacy and that he was going to sue. Pierre was about to rip his hair out when he heard that from their friend. Max, after seeing that his friends still expected accountability for him, decided to inform them that he had never loved you, that you were just easy and quick entertainment.
The three of them caught the lie very early on, knowing that the times he had come to the hotel, eyes shining and a dumb smile on his features weren’t a sign of lack of love. But Max was max, and if he wanted to take that route, then so be it. Charles and Daniel were already leaving the room, shoulders tense and trying to contain their anger. Pierre decided to have the last word.
“If she cuts ties with us because of your dumb mistake. I will never forgive you.” The blond slammed the door, and once outside, looked at his two other friends. “How could he say that? He always had a reserved seat for her, whenever she could come to the races. He wouldn’t stop smiling at his phone whenever they texted. He canceled plans with us because maybe she was free and they could video call. How could he say that shit?” Daniel looked forward, back towards their friend’s door.
“He’ll see his mistake, but I believe it will be too late.”
Charles, even if he hadn’t told the Dutchman when Pierre had, had come to the same terms. If you were going to stop spending time with them because of Max, they would cut ties with him, so that you didn’t associate them with him. At the end of the call, you had fallen asleep, drained from crying so hard, and Charles hung up from the unresponsive line after a long and loud sigh.
Pierre called you the next day and came to terms with the fact that the relationship was over, you were done with Max Verstappen. But he could tell that your words were somewhat empty. Pierre knew that if Max called you, told you that he was sorry, got on his knees, and begged for you to forgive him, you would give him a second chance. But Verstappen didn’t kneel for anyone, probably not even the woman that had made him a better person during the span of a year and a few months. Pierre also knew Max wasn’t happy with his choice. He wanted you back, the Frenchman could and would swear on it.
Max felt shitty. Max Verstappen, felt like utter shit. Max Emilian Verstappen felt like the shitiest person in the world. During the time since the pictures had become public to the world, he had cried, had anger outbursts, and punched more than one wall. He knew, that if Y/N could see her, she wouldn’t have been amused. She would be beside him, hugging him, telling him that he could talk to her about anything and that she would sit and listen unless he specifically told her he wanted advice or something of the sort. Max Emilian Verstappen felt deeply flawed, he felt as if he had destroyed the only thing that made him happy. Y/N had been understanding, patient, reasonable, and empathic, many other things he needed in his life. She had been a form of stability, someone he knew he could count on, at any moment. Any time he was angry about a race, or some incident with Christian Horner, and his dad, she was always there and knew how to calm him down. Y/N knew whether he needed space, silent company, hugs, a silent bath, or any other thing to help him relax. And he blew it.
Max Emilian Verstappen destroyed the only relationship that had made him feel whole. And he did it on his own. For some time, he tried to blame Y/N, and find a way to justify his actions. But whenever he came with something, he knew it was far-fetched and unfair to her, and to him, once he realized he was only lying to himself. He then tried to blame Kelly, for tempting him to be in a relationship with her, but at the end of the day, he was the one in a relationship, not her.
Max Emilian Verstappen had spent any free moment, drunk of his ass. Trying to forget the massive mistake he had done. Of course, it wasn’t that easy. Once he could feel the tell-tale signs of drunkness, he could only think of you. If he focused enough, he could hear your voice and feel your touch. If he focused enough, he could ignore he destroyed your heart and keep living in the fantasy where you were waiting for him back in Italy, with crazy stories about some of your professors that had lost their minds during their time working at the University.
Daniel, knowing this was the new hobby Max had started, was perfectly aware of where his friend was. It was hard for Daniel. Pierre and Charles had clearly chosen sides, but it was easier for them. Their relationship with Max wasn’t as close as with you. They hadn’t been Max’s teammates, they hadn’t seen Max grow into the person he was now since the beginning. It was easier for them to choose sides because he was the asshole, you were the victim, and you were just as close to them as Max was. Daniel didn’t have the same easy choice. But whenever he had to go down to the bar in the hotel, after being called by whoever was downstairs, Daniel knew he had to stay near Max, seeing him so drunk he wasn’t able to form coherent sentences, even open his eyes, made Daniel realize that even if max had destroyed your relationship, him not having you was punishment enough.
“Let’s go, Max, time for bed.” The younger man had his phone on, a chat lighting up the screen.
You did get the drunk message you wanted, but it was too late. Once it reached your screen, you knew it was too late, that he had taken too long.
He had made his bed, and now he had to lay in it.
AN: This was a long one, but I'm proud of how it turned out. If anyone has any requests for Verstappen, Ricciardo, Leclerc, or Gasly, feel free to send them to my inbox, and I'll try my best.
#verstappen#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#red bull#f1#oneshot#request#imagine#drabble#headcannon#daniel ricciardo#charles leclerc#pierre gasly#x reader#x you#x y/n#runawyolives
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Illicit Affairs - Chapter Four
Masterlist
I have no idea what it is with me, I’m writing super fast lately.
No more chapters until I finish house of sky and breath! I can’t wait to read it, I’m ten chapters in and it’s already amazing (no spoilers).
If you were confused by Aelin’s discussion with her father last chapter I’m sorry, here’s a recap someone asked me! By the way, please remember that English isn’t my first language so I still struggle with all the medical related vocabulary.
Word count: 4,080
She was exhausted, there were no other words for it. As surprising as it was, Aelin was late in her coursework. It wasn’t her fault, she worked hard every day to stay at the top of her class, but schools didn’t teach the same notions at the same time, which meant that Aelin was late and lost. And she hated it.
It didn’t help that her mind didn’t seem to cooperate and instead chose to only think about pine green eyes, silver hair, and full, rosy, lips. It didn’t help that she replayed their conversation in his office over and over again, not better than an obsessed teenage girl.
Her nails were shorter than usual, all ten of them bitten to the skin. Aelin had noticed this particular fact only yesterday but she realized it must have gone on for a few days. What was a little nail-biting anyway?
But no matter how exhausted and anxious Aelin felt, she also felt fucking amazing. She hadn’t woken up purposefully early in years with the only goal to get ready the way she loved. She didn’t know why she decided to go back to her old self now, but Aelin smiled as she looked at herself in the mirror.
This way, she didn’t look like the woman she had tried to be for years. It wasn’t the soft, elegant makeup she was used to doing. No, Aelin went extra. Extra in the way that she felt herself, that she felt good.
Younger she had loved when everyone looked at her, she loved how easy attracting attention had always been. But when you didn’t want people to see you, when looking at yourself in the mirror hurt, being extra was not the best course of action.
It wasn’t that Aelin hated herself, she didn’t. But when she grew up she had spent hours in front of a mirror, exploring her face and body to find one slight difference with Celaena. It was something every twin did, looking for their own identity. But for years now, Aelin wanted to look like her, her own way to never forget her.
Today, Aelin was Aelin.
She tried to ignore how it coincided with her anatomy class. Instead, choosing to embrace herself.
Aelin’s mood improved at the way Lysandra and Dorian complimented her on the way she looked. It changed from the strange stares she was sure to receive from her parents. No, Lysandra had compared her to a fairy. Aelin didn’t know why tears had burned her eyes at this.
Dorian teased her, “Are you sure you won’t let me woo you?”
Lysandra slapped his shoulder, “You’re so annoying.”
Aelin ignored the chill that ran down her spine when he entered the classroom, how assured his steps were. Her heart went wide when his eyes met hers, it didn’t last more than one second but it felt like too much and not enough at the same time. She wanted to push this feeling away as much as she craved for more.
It was an effort to focus on his words and not the way his mouth moved, in how his gestures betrayed how passionate he was, in the small proud smile he bore whenever he spoke about his job.
At the end of the class, Aelin was proud of herself for doing anything else than stare at him. Really, it was a miracle.
Staring wasn’t bad, right? Everyone did it, most of the girls in Aelin’s class were way less subtle than she was. Everyone would hear their giggles every time he told the class an anecdote. Aelin tried her best not to be annoyed, she really did, but it was a failure.
She was about to pack her things up when her phone vibrated, she grabbed it in her back pocket. She didn’t know the number.
< Meet me in my office when your classes are done.
< It’s Rowan, by the way.
< Or Dr. Whitethorn.
Aelin’s cheeks flushed. He was as confused on how she should address him as she was, it made her feel better somehow. He had asked for her number that day in his office the week before. It was just in case he needed to contact her.
She looked up as he was pocketing his phone and Aelin nodded slightly when he looked at her.
—
Aelin swallowed before she knocked on the door, much calmer than she did the last time she was there. The door opened immediately. If she didn’t know better, Aelin would think he had been waiting behind the door.
“Hi,” she breathed.
“Hello,” he answered before shaking his head, “Please, come in.”
Aelin was surprised when she saw a comforter and a pillow on his couch, breaking the cleanness of the room. He stepped in front of her after he closed the door, going to fold up the comforter. “Sorry about that.”
“Rough night?”
He coughed, nodding when he was done. “Yeah, I- I didn’t go home.”
She wanted to ask why, she wanted to know everything about him, but she couldn’t. “Is everything alright?”
He nodded, “Why?”
She shrugged, crossing her arms to add a layer of protection, “You just seem out of it today.”
His eyes widened in surprise before he turned his head away, going to his desk. Did she know him enough to think he acted strangely? “I’m just tired.”
“Hm, okay.”
“That’s the truth,” he pressed.
“I didn’t deny it.”
He sighed, the sound loud in the near-silent room. Aelin didn’t say anything, waiting for him to either speak or gather his shit up. Why did they always have to see each other when one of them was near their breaking point? “It’s nothing, just some personal matter you don’t want to know about.”
“Says who?” she answered, surprising him and herself. She should have just said she felt sorry for the guy. “You know some of my personal problems if you want to talk about yours…”
He seemed to actually think about it for a moment, his brows furrowing. Aelin wanted to reach out and smoothen the place between his brow with her thumb, her other hand slowly stroking his neck.
Gods, she needed help.
“That’s not appropriate,” he answered, but his voice didn’t have as much resolve as it usually had. It was quieter, as if he didn’t want to say it.
“I’ve been told inappropriate is my middle name,” Aelin answered, trying to joke around.
It worked, a small smile returning to his lips as he looked at her. She wasn’t dressed in one of her jeans and hoodies. She had opened her closet and looked deep enough to find a white off-the-shoulder puffy shirt she had covered with a white corset, a long plain brown skirt covering her legs. Even with the usually warm weather of Doranelle, it was still January and if it wasn’t for her knitted cardigan and thighs under her long skirt she’d be freezing.
He smiled at her outfit, “Nice clothes.”
She smiled too, the two words better than anything else, “Thanks.”
Aelin let herself fall on his couch as if she owned the place, “You asked me here for what?”
He looked as if he forgot why as he said, “Oh, yeah.” He stood against his desk, his hands gripping it on both sides of his body. “Craniotomy.”
Her face turned to the portrait of confusion, “What?”
He crossed his arms, a playful smile on his lips. “Craniotomy. What do you know about it?”
“It’s probably the most done brain surgery, you take out a piece of the skull called the bone flap to see the brain, it’s going back to its place at the end of the surgery.”
“Good,” he praised, “Which case would require a craniotomy?”
Her eyes widened as she recalled everything she had ever read on the subject, “A lot, which is why it’s the surgery you’ve probably done the most. It’s for you what is an appendectomy for a general surgeon. But in short, to diagnose, to take out tumors, to lower pressure, clipping aneurysm… So many things. Why?”
He grinned, “I have one tomorrow, I’m clipping two aneurysms. Basic surgery for me, impressive for you. You’re coming to see it and you’re going to watch me train.”
“What?” Aelin asked, her eyes wide as she leaned forward.
“You heard me.”
“You want me to watch a craniotomy?”
He nodded, “In the OT, yeah. And train with me.”
OT meant operating theater, the room where students or spectators could watch surgeries. She had never been on one, but she knew Celaena had. “Are you sure? You’re supposed to train, not me. I mean, you’re the one performing surgery on a real person tomorrow, not me. I don’t want to distract you.”
“Are those your true thoughts or is this you finding an excuse?”
“I’m never finding excuses!”
He deadpanned her, knowing full well that it was a lie. Aelin sighed, “Let me guess, you won’t let me say no.”
He frowned, “Of course, I’m going to let you say no. I want to teach you, yes, but I also want to respect your wishes.”
And this, the way he gave her a choice, had her heart blooming in her chest. So she said, “I needed to go see my father anyway. And you’ll save me from the subway.”
“You just decided I’ll drive you?” His grin was amused.
She shrugged, “Yes. Professor and driver. Those are two very good jobs, Dr. Whitethorn.”
He frowned, “It’s weird.”
“What is weird?”
“You, calling me Dr. Whitethorn.”
Aelin was silent for a few moments, “I’m not supposed to call you anything else.”
“I know. Still weird.”
She didn’t comment on how it felt for her either.
—
“You don’t seem impressed,” he said as they walked through the halls of the hospital. They were on the fifth floor, this one and the sixth were for surgery. Patients, nursing room, ORs, everything was here.
Aelin shrugged, “My parents and I lived here until my aunt died, but when my sister… We moved back here. I basically grew up in this hospital.”
Rowan’s brows touched his hairline. “Really?”
Aelin smiled, “Yeah. You see that resting room right next to Room 478?” Rowan nodded. “The light was always broken in it, so whenever Celaena and I would play hide and seek I’d hide there. She knew where I was but the hall and the room were too dark for her to come after me. She used to be terrified of the dark.”
Rowan chuckled with her, opening one of the doors with his pass. These doors weren’t there when Aelin was a child, security had improved. “It sounded like fun.”
“It was,” they turned to the left. “This place was a real playground for two bored girls.”
It felt strange to speak Celaena’s name. Her parents always ignored the subject and Aedion usually toyed around it. It still hurt him. Aelin found it usually painful to think about her, but today she could spend hours recalling everything she did in this hospital. She hadn’t come back here once since Celaena. But she was fine, and not in an ignoring-her-feelings kind of way. She was truly fine.
“It sometimes is a playground for thirty-five years old men, so I can see why two girls had so much fun.”
“The days where both my parents had late surgeries or emergencies were the best. It was not rare for her and me to just sleep here. This nurse, Marion, used to stay with us whenever she worked. We loved her.”
He seemed surprised, “Marion still works here.”
“Does she?”
He nodded, “A true terror for any surgeon who don’t have their head out of their ass.”
She laughed, “Sounds like her. Do you know if she’s on shift today?”
He shrugged, “No idea but we can ask.”
Aelin felt a little guilty for taking so much of his time, “You have to train for tomorrow, I don’t want to-”
“Quit it, Aelin. I have plenty of time for you to say hello to someone who was important to you.”
She smiled then, a pure and bright smile. Coming back to this place wasn’t so bad after all. “Fireheart?” Her mother’s voice echoed through the hall, Aelin turned around to find her mother in her blue scrubs staring at her.
“Mom,” Aelin breathed, her hand clenching around the handle of her bag at the way her mother looked at her outfit.
Disapprovement and distaste were written in every trait of her face, “You look…”
“Amazing? I know, thank you.”
Thankfully her mother didn’t say anything else, “Hello, Dr. Whitethorn.” She greeted him before turning once more to Aelin, “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be home by now.”
Aelin replaced her bag on her shoulder, all her strength used to not bring her fingers to her teeth. “Dad asked me to come so he could give me all the passes and keys I need.”
“Oh, your dad is in surgery, baby. Big accident, they needed all the help they could get. Text him and tell him to bring everything to you at home.”
As the chief of surgery, it was rare for her father to still perform surgery, bureaucracy taking too much of his time. But whenever he could he still put on gloves and ran to a bloodbath. He loved it too much to stop.
“Will do,” she assured her mother.
“Good. Need a ride home?”
Aelin awkwardly pointed between Rowan and her, “Uh, no, I’m-”
“I’m showing her how to clip an aneurysm,” Rowan explained. Yeah, that was what they were doing. Not visiting her favorite nurse. Her parents had never talked about Marion, they didn’t know how much the woman had taken care of Aelin and Celaena. Aelin had never asked, deeming it an old wound that didn’t need to be open once more.
Her mother’s face lit up, “Oh, that’s amazing. If your father finishes his surgery on time maybe you can catch–”
“I’ll drive her home, Dr. Ashryver, don’t worry.”
The five minutes drive from her school to the hospital hadn’t been long, but how would she survive the twenty minutes toward her house? Just her and him, in a confined space. Her imagination already ran wild. Her mother smiled, “It’s very nice of you, Dr. Whitethorn. I’ll see you at home,” she told Aelin who returned the good-bye.
When she left, Aelin hadn’t moved. She let out a long breath that had been burning her lungs for seconds now, “She was so going to say something about my clothes.”
She could feel Rowan’s serious gaze on her body, “Why would she? It’s cute.”
She huffed a laugh, ignoring how pink her cheeks ust be from how hot she felt. “She used to hate how I dressed as a teenager.”
“I assume it was the way you dressed back then?” His eyebrow was raised, his lips turned in a sly smirk.
“It’s pretty mild compared to what I used to wear.”
He laughed, shaking his head, “You’re impossible.”
Aelin struggled to swallow when she felt his hand slide on her back, stopping on her lower back as he guided her through the hall. Aelin didn’t say anything, not daring to say anything.
If her asking about his life was inappropriate, she didn’t know what was the way he touched her now. There was nothing sinful, nothing out of the ordinary, but Aelin’s body had a very special reaction.
Subtly, she got closer to him as she walked. Just enough for their bodies to brush, and she didn’t feel him back away. She knew he was as hyper-aware of her as she was of him.
Her thoughts took another turn as she saw familiar brown hair braided and then gathered in a bun.
She knew she was in a hospital, but Aelin couldn’t help her squeal, “Marion!”
The woman turned around, first, her brows were furrowed but a second later, when she saw who had been calling her name, the woman was shocked. She was still the same, just some wrinkles at the side of her eyes and some grey hair on her head. she also wore all her exhaustion but did only make her more beautiful. She was exhausted because she loved her job.
Aelin walked to the woman and didn’t wait before throwing her arms around the nurse’s neck. The woman returned the embrace directly, and Aelin could feel her chuckle, “What are you doing here, little fire?”
Aelin laughed at the nickname she had given her. She took a step back and covered her mouth with her hands, “I’ve just been told you still work there and I wanted to see you.”
She frowned, slightly slapping Aelin’s elbow. “Of course, I still work here, did you expect me to be retired?”
Aelin chuckled, “I feel like there’s a wrong answer to this.”
“You bet there is.”
It felt good to see her again, she still remembered all the lullabies Marion had sung her. Marion had a daughter just a little younger than Aelin, maybe it was why she always took care of her. “Look at you,” she beamed, “You’re all grown-up.”
“I’m even taller than you now.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “You know how rude you sound?”
Aelin chuckled and Marion’s pager rang, cutting short their reunion. “I need to go, little fire, but we should go to lunch with my Elide one of these days.”
“I’d love to,” Aelin answered and with one last smile, Marion was gone.
“Are you happy?” Rowan asked, she had almost forgotten his presence.
She exhaled, “It doesn’t feel as gut-wrenching as I thought.”
“Good,” he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear.
—
“Do you understand?”
He had spent the last thirty minutes showing her how to clip an aneurysm, taking his time to describe everything he was doing, always looking away from his microscope, checking if she wasn’t too lost.
Aelin was sitting on the table next to where he stood, in a teasing mood she answered, “It looks awfully easy. Are you sure you deserve that much money on your paycheck?”
His eyebrows slowly rose, a smirk curling his lips. “Go on then, Miss It’s Easy.”
Aelin swallowed, losing a bit of her confidence. She had just expected him to roll his eyes and tell her she was impossible. He laughed at her pale face, “Not that much of a mouth on you, why’s that?”
She squinted at him, ready to make him swallow his tongue. “Move and let the pro show you how it’s done.”
He chuckled, backing away with his hands raised, “Cocky, Galathynius.”
She rolled up her sleeves above her elbows, her defiant eyes never leaving his playful ones. “Gimme,” she said, talking about the instruments.
Rowan frowned a little before asking, “You’re left-handed, aren’t you?”
“How do you know that? And why?”
He shrugged and probably took it as an answer, “You held your beer with your left hand that night.” How did he remember that small of a detail? “I am, too. It’s a little special for us, as the instruments are made for right-handed people.”
He took her hands and slid the two long instruments. “You just need to hold that one this way,” he turned it a little, so the handling was more comfortable.
The two instruments had a camera built-in that was connected to a TV. Rowan could see everything she was doing in that weird fake brain. He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. And he called her cocky. “What are you waiting for?”
She rolled her eyes, “Men. You’re all the same.”
He chuckled but didn’t get mad, not as Chaol would always get whenever she had the audacity to make jokes. It felt refreshing. Aelin had forgotten to adjust the microscope to fit her height. She was determined to just raise on her tiptoes but Rowan didn’t agree.
“Here,” he said, coming to stand beside her and adjusting the microscope perfectly. Her eyes met his for a second before she breathed her thanks.
She looked into the object and… Yeah. She got why it was hard. All sense of reality was deformed when she looked through that shit. She wasn’t going to admit it, though.
She’d just have to take her time as she brought the tools closer to where she saw the fake aneurysm. Rowan tsked when her clip came close to one of the parts of the brain, breaking all her focus. She looked at him, “You think you’re helping?”
“Your patient is paralyzed.”
She was offended, “I barely brushed it!”
He knew she was mostly joking along, “I’m pretty sure the brain is a quite sensible organ. It’s just like you.”
Her mouth was wide open at the insult, ready to answer something nastier when he came behind here. “I’ll show you.”
Her breathing entirely stopped as his front came in contact with her back. He had to stand close, but it meant for their bodies to touch more than they had in the past. His hands grabbed hers, he was in control of everything. He bent, pushing her head to the side with his, “Let me some space,” he teased.
Aelin was at his mercy, she let him one side of the microscope as she used the other, his torso applying pressure on her back whenever he breathed. She was pleased to know his breathing was as ragged as her, that she wasn’t the only one affected by the contact.
“You need to hold your wrist this way,” he whispered, changing the angle of her hands. “If you don’t then your hands will shake and it’ll increase the chances of cramping.”
Aelin only nodded, relishing on the way his body warmed hers. Rowan kept going as he explained, “You take a deep breath,” he did and so did she, and then he moved their hands.
Aelin didn’t care about the way he played with her fingers, giving her a false sensation of control. He was confident in his movements, no fear or hesitation laced the way he controlled her hands.
Aelin leaned back into him, unable to stop. Rowan’s hands flattered for a second before he kept going, his voice still whispering as he explained everything to her. This, him teaching her, it was… attractive.
With one final move of the clip with their left hand, Rowan whispered, “It’s done.”
Slowly, he guided their tools out of the fake-patient’s brain before slowly putting them on the metal table. He didn’t move, his hands still on hers, his body still covering hers.
Aelin dared to look to the side to find him looking at her with dark, green, eyes. Her breathing turned frantic at the way he looked at her, as if he would devour her. He licked his lips, leaving them parted as Aelin’s gaze settled on them.
She wanted to kiss him, wanted to know how he’d kiss her. Would it be featherlight? Would it feel the way she always felt around him? World consuming? She wanted to know if those lips would be rough or loving with hers.
When she wanted to pay attention to that neck of his, she wanted to lick and kiss every inch of it, discovering the tattoo she knew he was hiding. She wanted to do so many things to him, and wanted him to do so many things to her. But mostly, right now, Aelin wanted to push him to the floor and ride him until they were both breathless and out of this world.
He seemed to think the exact same thing, his hands clenching around hers. She looked back at him then, and Aelin decided to throw all her cares out of the window. She brought her face closer to his.
He leaned into her, her eyes closing. It was going to happen. Years of wonder finally put to an end, she’d know how he hated. How he kissed.
But instead of the warm feeling of a kiss, Aelin was only felt with emptiness and cold. Rowan had pushed himself away, a good six feet between them now as his face rested between his hands.
What the hell.
Aelin’s body was electric, hating her for letting it down. Rowan groaned, a sound full of defeat. “I need to check on a patient, I’ll drive you home right after.”
He left without leaving room to question or discussion. Maybe, maybe he had been right. It shouldn't have happened.
••••••
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#rowaelin#rowaelin fanfiction#rowan whitethorn#rowan x aelin#throne of glass fanfiction#aelin galathynius#illicit affairs
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SCP Scenarios: SCP 1678 (Unlondon) x Reader (REQUESTED)
Source: Photo
SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Rules | My Original Post | Request | Socials
Requested by: @lilithisfurry
Ok, so I've done it!!! 😃
Before any of you say a thing, I know that there are 2 humanoid 1678s which are 1678-A (Bobbies/Policeman) and 1678-C (Wretch) and an avian type one (1678-B)
The one I'll be using is 1678-A (Policeman) because it takes too much time to write 3 versions of this SCP (But I might consider writing the other 2, but it's highly unlikely)
First Encounter
When you first met this humanoid, you were sent into SCP 1678 for some test
The police humanoid emitted a loud whistle as the speakers screamed ‘‘Police! Halt, criminal!’’
A couple of others who were with you attempted to shoot them with their guns but were quickly shown to be resistant
Luckily for them, they managed to plant some explosives which caused damage
The other 1678-As went in and attacked them which wasn't unusual because of their hostile nature
However, for you, one of them managed to capture you and ran
For some reason, it showed some interest towards you and warded off the other SCP 1678-As off from you
They seemed to understand that you were "marked" and left you alone
That particular 1678-A managed to get you out from harm and back to your foundation
The foundation staff did wonder what had happened and you told them everything with proof since you were wearing a bodycam
They've soon noticed that this particular policeman was softer towards you as you bandaged up its broken arm
Your feelings for him
After the incident, you were sent back down into 1678 for further research and you bumped back into the sane 1678-A
You only remembered that it was him because of its gesture and its unusual markings which distinguished him from the others
Somehow, you both were able to communicate with each other
The researchers realised that they seemed to understand human speech, mainly English, however, they seemed to understand other forms of European languages as well
Moreover, this particular Bobby also understood sign language and used it to his advantage to communicate with you, displaying some fondness for you
The researchers were reluctant to let you carry on with this test as they've noticed that you've reciprocated the same gesture
Let's just say that the researchers and the other Bobbies agreed to the fact that it was strange for you and that special policeman to be dating
His Confession
Over time, as you both became closer, he worked up the courage to sign to you that he cares a lot about you
And you've found that rather cute and returned the gesture
Which then made you both a rather unique type of couple
The other 1678-As were concerned and curious about this new relationship and so was the Foundation
The researchers had decided to borrow your newfound partner and took him to his new room (No, you've basically kidnapped him)
Needless to say, the other Bobbies were somewhat furious while others were glad that he's gone since he betrayed them for not killing you
Your new partner was somewhat homesick, so you've decided to paint some victorian style art for his cell
Date
From time to time, you both were shoved back into 1678 which just so happens to be the main place for you both to date
Some of his friends were relieved to see him and some would even offer you a hug
You obviously returned the gesture for being so flattering and because your man could finally get laid (NGL yall still be touch starved to the point you'd even date strange beings and objects)
Dates with this Bobby would be rather interesting
Like, he'd hold hands, but probably wouldn't start it during the beginning of the relationship because he's just shy (Just like everybody else here)
Since his face is all bandaged up, you wouldn't really be having many kisses
But he'll make it up with hugs instead
His fellow friends would probably enjoy bothering the both of you while you're there and would pull pranks on you both
If you both were in the foundation, you'd be chilling in his cell and talking bout your experiences in life (Not like you'd have much to say, get back to studying/work)
The researchers may poke fun of you both but would generally leave you both alone
When he gets jealous
Now, depending on who he's jealous of, he would react differently
If it was another fellow 1678-A, he would be slightly hostile and assert his dominance over the others
However, if it was a member of the foundation or anyone else that's not 1678-A for that matter, he'd be even more aggressive and would probably try and kill them
Unless you manage to stop him then it's fine
This Bobby would be slightly possessive because you're the only other person who genuinely cares about him other than his 1678 friends/family
If he sees you having a friendly chat with another person/SCP, he would wrap an arm around you just so the other person knows you're taken
I think over time he learns some boundaries so even if he is aggressive, he wouldn't just automatically send the dude you're with to hell
Unless that person is a crappy person then good for them
Yandere!1678-A
This yandere right here would literally kidnap you and take you back into 1678
He'd make sure that you would never find a way back into the foundation which does concern the researchers, so they send a group of D-classes and MTFs to find you
If he was feeling nice, he would let you wander around 1678 but he would most likely be next to or near you at all times
If he was having a bad day, he would tie you up in a random building and made sure that nobody can get in or out
Would most likely be even more hostile to everybody else around you
If you haven't behaved, he'd probs use something sharp to inflict pain on you
If you managed to behave, then he loosens the ropes around your arms, legs and neck
Probs would feed you tiny doses of 1678-D but only a bit because he's aware of how that affects the bodies of ordinary humans
Their younger sister
You and the other 1678-As would literally be families at this point or friends with the ones who are lurking away from the main area of 1678
And since you were rather new, you were treated as the younger one (That's also because you're the youngest one)
Would probably protect you from everything
You would be spoilt to death and wouldn't have to hurt a fly
One of the policemen would get you a 1678-B as your personal pet
And it's rather fond of you so it basically follows you around
Would most likely intimidate your dates if you have one
Even more so if they're a human/SCP from the Foundation
If it was another member of 1678 then they're more chill
However, if you were dating 1678-C, they'd be quite reluctant for you to be in a relationship with her but would let you anyways
When their kids say their name for the first time
Would 100% be crying internally and shocked
Like, it happened out of the blue since you both were just relaxing
Word would spread across the whole of 1678 because of this
And not because you both were a unique pairing in the first place
1678-A would try to teach your child some sign language in contrast to you who would teach them to communicate verbally
Most likely try and teach the kid to defend themselves and probably attack others
But you wouldn't let him because they were too young (Just like you lot!!! Shouldn't y'all be studying in primary or high/secondary schools?)
The other 1678s would literally yeet their way to meet the kid just so they can teach your child to say more words
And to swear of course
When his S/O is angry
Oh dear
If the foundation doesn't know any better, they'd just assume that all the Bobbies were the aggressive ones
And oh boy were they wrong
You were the one who needs a chill pill
Basically, some guy tried to hit on you and wouldn't stop
So you just casually gave him a taste in his own medicine
Which were a punch in the face and a kick in the nuts (Kids, don't do this to a guy unless he really deserves it)
He somehow got back up and carried on harassing you
Your man was just strolling around the park until he saw the commotion
He had to literally hold you back and made the guy run for his life
Which was a shocker since it's usually the other way around
And of course, everybody inside 1678 heard about the news and cheered on for you while others just ran since they didn't wanna have the first-hand experience with your anger issue
When someone tries to steal you away
Oh this man right here would gather all his police friends as well as the birds to hunt down whoever stole you away
He would be furious to the core and rightfully so
The foundation was informed of this and they didn't blame this SCP
And that's because the person who stole you was from the Chaos Insurgency
Both GOIs hated each other's guts so the foundation just kinda let 1678-A hunt down the guy
And he did along with the MTFs
But was met with you standing over the guy's dead body
Then everybody realised that your man taught you how to protect yourself
And you did it so perfectly that even 1678 was intimidated af
Nobody wanted to mess with you and your partner was relieved that he taught you self defence
When his pregnant!S/O gets hurt by accident
This particular 1678-A that just so happens to be your partner, is rather shy and introverted
Nad although he does his 'job' well, he would rather just stay away from any contact
Until he met you and you became pregnant
This 1678-A would be slightly more protective but would let you have some space
And because of this, you managed to give yourself a papercut
Which was met with a furious policeman
But was cooled down when you explained your injury to him
He was giving you a huge lecture about your safety and how not to get hurt because you're carrying his baby
Wouldn't leave you alone ever again
Even if that means he would have to sit by the corner at all times
Would send his mates to come over to check on you if he wasn't there
Meeting a dragon hybrid child fem!reader
Definitely would be curious about you since they mostly interact with Foundation staffs
Probably would try to attack you but instead got burnt
1678-A would definitely notice your strange appearance and that you cry lava
Would feel bad so he'd try and comfort you
This then leads to you both being rather attached to each other
This particular 1678-A would have to bribe the others to keep you
The foundation realising this would happen
Probably would let you stay there for research purposes
They would most likely help level up your telekineses
Treats you like their own child and would be extremely protective
Most likely would have a heart attack every time you show kindness towards foundation members instead of attacking them
Every time you're in danger, the ones attacking you would soon realise that they've screwed up
Because the SCPs can hear you cry which would summon a whole bunch of them
When he accidentally kills you
He was basically chilling with you until some MTF members arrived to take some samples for testing
They were attacked by the other 1678-As and retaliated
This chill guy would lead you to safety before attacking the remaining MTFs
You realising what has happened decided to try and help out
You noticed that one of the MTF members were about to shoot your guy and managed to throw the gun out of his hand
1678-A notices and tries to attack the member but instead killed you
The remaining MTF members flee as he mourns your death
He would be even more vengeful and aggressive to the foundation members
Which does scare off the other Bobbies
Stayed in one of the abandoned houses to cry alone
Yandere!1678 - A x Evil!Reader
I'd say aside from his yandere self and the fact that he's only more aggressive to everyone else aside from you and giving you some scars, he's pretty dense and thicc in the brain
Probably wouldn't notice that you were working on them for a project in the GOC
You were able to get away with a lot of things because of your small stature and innocent appearance
Definitely managed to fool this yandere!1678-A because of your appearance
You could be just as vicious when you want to be
Yandere!1678-A soon realises that you were just using him for some experiment and were angered to the point of no return
Would most likely try and hunt you down
But since you've already got enough information about this SCP, you were able to devise a plan to leave
Manages to catch up to you but you were fortunate enough to know enough self-defence tactics to ward him off
You never came back to him and he was depressed for all of eternity
Trying McDonald's Sprite
You were requested to bring some ordinary food to 1678 as a test
And you've decided that you wanted to bring some Sprite with some Apple pie, mozzarella dippers and pancakes (They're my soul food from Mackies ok? Don't judge)
When you arrived in 1678, that one particular policeman who is attached to you for some odd reason was curious about the food
Of course, he would need to take off the bandage on his head to taste the food but not before some bribery from you
He reminisced about the food since he loved eating them before he turned into 1678-A
Sprite, however, was slightly different
He never tried them and was surprised with how good they tasted
Most likely would ask you to get more for him though
Foundation staff would be rather conflicted but allowed you to reward him with Sprite and some food
Only whenever he behaved well though
When his kid swears at him
You should've seen the look on his face (oh the irony)
You both taught your kid verbal and non-verbal communications with some common sentences people would say
But never have either of you taught your kid how to swear
Kinda just happened and 1678-A was about to go into cardiac arrest (Pun intended)
Would hunt down whoever taught them that depending on the severity
Like if the kid was using a ton of swearing in a sentence and was directing it to either of you, 1678-A would kill the guy
You were more of a chill type of parent
But would recommend the kid to stop swearing sine it's rude
Most likely wound ground the kind for a week tbh
When the reader scares him (Child!Reader)
Well, let's just say you managed to make the policeman play hide and seek with you
And you were the one hiding since you secretly knew that you were a professional at it
So you made 1678-A to find you
And although he's pretty good at catching his victims, he couldn't find you (Cuz y'all be so short)
Like he was literally in front of you and he still couldn't see you and you even giggled
So you've decided to jump on him
And oh boy was he about to scream out for help
But luckily he didn't cuz the others would whoop yo ass
Probably wouldn't give you a lecture but would need a while for his precious heart to not go yeetus the fetus
He would probably yeet you though tbf
When the reader pole dances/aerial silk dance
1678-A probably would have some ideas on what pole dancing is
Maybe not as much with the term aerial silk dancing but would soon understand when he sees you dancing
Probably thinks that you're trying to fondue with him if you're pole dancing
Definitely would be in awe when he sees you dance with the aerial silks
Would have a difficult time mimicking you if he ever wants you to teach him
Has definitely fallen 1000 times while pole dancing and broke his arms while dancing 10 ft off the ground
If the others inside 1678 see you dancing, he'd be in a blushing mess, especially if you were dancing to certain kinds of songs
Would most likely tell you to dance for him privately so there's no peeking
Having a Pregnant!S/O
Would most definitely be on the guard more since you're carrying his child
1678-A would most likely follow you around like a well trained and clingy German Shepard
You'd most likely have to tell him to tone it down because you're pregnant, not some delicate flower
Would most likely do whatever you tell him to do, even if it means hurting himself as long as you're safe and sound
Definitely would make sure that another 1678 would be around you at all times when he's away from you
1678-A would occasionally rub your stomach and sing victorian era songs
Sometimes he would bring you some of your favourite foods
When you try to commit suicide
When he hears the news he was devastated
He literally ran 69 miles just to see you
Would give you a big boi lecture about doing that
Nearly had his heart jump out of his body
Would constantly follow you everywhere after this
He's basically your bodyguard at this point
Would bandage up your wounds
Makes sure that you're fed well and all and would give you random gifts out of the blue
Would most likely ask the other Bobbies to care for you if he's not there and would even give you 1678-B
Asks the Wretches to keep a lookout to make sure nobody hurts you
Having a hopelessly romantic/easily flustered GN!Reader
This particular Bobby would most likely be just as easily flustered and hopelessly romantic as you
I'd imagine him trying to make the first move and you both being in a blushing mess
You both would exchange little gifts every now and again
Everyone else just teases and ships you both
You both loving each other unconditionally and constantly worrying about each other when you're both away from each other
This Bobby would definitely protect you from the MTFs and/or D-classes from attacking you
You would make a deal with the foundation to keep your guy safe and sound
The foundation witnessing how lovey-dovey you both are and just dies of cringe and sweetness overload (but not as sweet as out 999)
#scp#scp scenarios#scp x reader#scp headcanons#scp x reader headcanons#scp x reader scenarios#scp 1678#scp 1678 headcanon#scp 1678 scenarios#scp 1678 x reader#scp 1678 x reader scenarios#scp 1678 x reader headcanon
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𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐘 | 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮
"𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙞 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚?"
PAST LIFE AU! falling in love was something that he didn't expect- having a broken heart was the last thing his brother wanted.
01. cuts and clinics MASTERLIST
we all thought that in the future years, our world will be as good as new.
that there'll be flying cars taking us to school or that everything will be made of titanium metal, strong enough to withstand even the most horrifying earthquakes to shake the earth.
sorry to burst your bubble, however, because these are nothing but a child's dream.
there are no flying cars, no good innovations, no one who holds the power of immortality- none of those. the world is still fucked, everyone is still the same and we're all slowly dying. but who gives a shit about that right now?
sure we have good fashion sense, good technology, but amidst all these materialistic things, we're killing the earth and everything around it- not like the government will do anything about it, it's been like that for the past few decades.
it's the year 2075, and goddamn is it boring.
like, you're still going to school when literally half of the earth is dying of global warming? and you teach students how to do maths instead of how to help prevent this darned situation? i mean, you have your priorities i guess but come on.
don't get him wrong, he's sort of grateful to still be going to school even if he's just one admission slip away from expulsion, but at least he can do basic maths right?
meet haitani rindou, the youngest of the infamous haitani brothers known for their brute strength and overall scary appearances to ever roam the school halls.
can you imagine how scared other students feel just by walking down the same staircase as these two? like, do they shit their pants or run away with their tails in between their legs, cowering in fear?
who knows, they don't know that because they're too unbothered to even look at them.
no one, even the teachers don't know why these two are still coming to school when they're clearly smart- they're just scared to deal with them, honestly.
but it is true that they're smart. haitani ran himself got ranked first during the exams and the same goes for his brother who ranked first in his own grades. though in all honesty, the two didn't even review for the tests and instead went around roppongi, beating people left and right.
not a great activity to begin with... but at least it's productive! sort of.
however, on this particular wednesday, the two of them decided to finally show up to class after being suspended for a week. although that was two weeks ago, they spent another week just lazing around because none of them wanted to go to school.
walking past gapping students, ran and rindou made their way down the halls to get to the cafeteria where they planned on spending their first period there. seeing as the older of the two had science and the youngest having english, they wanted to spare themselves from the boring discussions and just finish all the doriyakis in the canteen.
"i told you that we should've just went to the arcade."
"i'll be a bad brother if i don't force you to go to school now, won't i?" this caused rindou to roll his eyes at his annoying sibling, clicking his tongue as he buried his hands deeper in his uniform pockets to make himself look cooler.
it's a very dumb idea but it still works.
"says the one who threatened his math teacher to give him a passing grade."
the dual-hair colored male ignored the harsh glare that ran gave him and continued walking, not noticing a group of art students rushing in their direction.
"please excuse us-" too late. may their lives be spared as the props that the students were holding fell in front of the youngest haitani, managing to land a scrape on his cheek while every student in the hall with them stopped and looked at the commotion.
everyone held their breaths at the sight of the bleeding cut on rindou's cheek, giving the art students their silent prayers as ran looked at his brother with an unreadable look on his face.
the president of the club had their eyes wide open, legs starting to shake in fear not knowing what to do now or if he even has a chance to live! getting down on his knees in a begging position, he started pleading for their forgiveness and telling them that it was nothing but an honest mistake.
meanwhile, ran knew that his little brother is more than annoyed at the situation and is currently thinking of ways on how to send the poor president to his final resting place.
looking down on his wristwatch and seeing that they had at least ten minutes before the bell rings, the oldest of the two gave him a pat on his back and guided him to the staircase that was coincidentally beside them.
"go get that shit patched up, i'll handle them. meet me in the cafeteria once you're done."
rindou didn't need to be told twice as he gave the club president one last glare, completely ignoring the dull sting that he's beginning to feel on his cheek, and proceeded to make his way up the stairs where the clinic is located at.
the students let out a relieved sigh, glad to know that they'll live to see another day and began to pick up the fallen props off of the floor. the president was the most relieved out of all of them, nearly bursting into tears when the haitani gave him his infamous death glare.
"where do you think you're going?" an arm held the poor guy into place, chills running up his spine as his club members began scurrying out of there, completely leaving his ass to haitani ran.
"i- class is almost starting and we kind of need to get the props to the gym before it begins..." the president couldn't even stop his voice from shaking, completely scared to be left alone with the infamous brother who hummed as a reply.
with a harsh tug on his uniform collar, ran began dragging him off to the courtyard to teach him a lesson. and if he's unfortunate, the teachers will also teach him a lesson by reprimanding him to ever enter the courtyard again.
"no can do buddy, we're having a little chat about how clumsy your ass is."
let us give a silent prayer to this unnamed character, may he rest in peace.
never in his entire sixteen years of existence did haitani rindou imagine having his precious face ruined by some clumsy ass art club leader.
he would always take time out of his week to make sure that his face is perfectly flawless even if he has to go participate in a brawl in an hour- he needs to look extra handsome when it comes to him putting lowlifes in their places.
so imagine how pissed he is seeing that it's all ruined? all his efforts... gone just because of a dumb prop falling on his face.
what was that thing even made of?! metal?
rindou just knows that he'll spend at least a week to try and fix the damage before he can even join his brother in fights. ugh, how boring really.
but never mind not being able to participate in fights, he can just sort that problem out later. what he needs to focus on right now is to get his cut treated and avoid getting it infected, because he knows that he'll look even more shitty if it were to get infected.
he's all pissed just because his image is ruined, how cute.
grumbling under his breath, the first year entered the clinic and was immediately welcomed by the smell of rubbing alcohol and sterile objects, something that he isn't used to smelling if he was being honest.
it seems that the room was empty, except for a lone student sitting on a random stool, having their complete attention to the phone in their hands.
now, he knows that they're just doing their job by being there but they should at least be alert if someone enters the room. what if a passed-out student was brought in and they're just scrolling through their phone? what now?
the guy's patience is beginning to grow thin, coughing into his palms to try and grab their attention- which fortunately did.
purple eyes clashed with (e/c) ones, a smile etching itself on her features as she placed her gadget down and stood up from her spot. by the looks of it and based on her uniform, she's either a student the same as him or she's the nurse cosplaying as a student- that doesn't matter.
"i take it that you want to get patched up?"
"no shit, where's the nurse?" the student chuckled at how blunt he is, straightening her school uniform before she made her way to the shelf full of medical supplies and motioned for him to take a seat.
"she's running late. so you'll have to deal with me for today."
rindou didn't have the time of his day to complain about this. as long as this girl who looks like she knows nothing about the medical field can do her job then he's alright with it. he just prays that she wouldn't make him look more shitty than his current state.
taking a seat on the stool that she was previously sitting on, the male closed his eyes and waited for her to do her job.
"you're from class 1-2, right?" she said, pouring some rubbing alcohol on the cotton ball that she was holding and began to disinfect the fresh cut. she wasn't surprised when he didn't flinch, unlike the other students who get their cuts tended by her, they mainly whimper in pain.
"why'd you wanna know?" even with his eyes closed, rindou can imagine the look of amusement on her face as he felt the cool sensation of the bandaid on his cheek.
"i'm surprised that you forgot about your classmate. but you haven't been going to school for two weeks so it's inevitable- you can open your eyes now."
he almost jumped back when he saw her (e/c) eyes staring into his in such close proximity, scooting back on the chair to create some distance between them.
does this girl not know what a personal bubble is?!
"what the fuck?!" the (h/c) haired girl chuckled at his reaction, standing up straight as she began arranging the used equipment back into their respective shelves.
"i'm just testing to see if the rumors about you having a deadly look in your eyes are true- must be a myth really."
now, haitani rindou didn't know whether to be insulted or mad that this pesky little girl right here is mocking his power to make everybody scared of him, it's like she sees him as a joke! and no one has ever done that to him before- no one.
so imagine how pissed he is, seeing this person calling his infamous death glare a myth. the audacity of this bitch, really.
"oi, what are you calling a myth-" he was interrupted when the bell rang, the sound of it echoing through the hallways and resonating inside of the small room where they're in.
this caused the (h/c) haired girl to hum in amusement, taking her bag from the floor and making her way towards the door, much to the younger haitani's disappointment. he wanted to teach her a lesson or two for having to mock his glare and calling it a myth- and maybe he can earn himself another minion to boss around.
clicking his tongue in annoyance, he stood up and called out for her to come back.
(e/c) eyes met with his annoyed ones, a sly grin tugging on his lips as she gave him a half-assed wave of goodbye.
"don't wanna be late for class. see you when you decide to attend- or not."
"and oh- i hope another student bumps into you on the way there."
and with that, haitani rindou watched her figure disappear with narrow eyes, now being all alone in the sterile room as students walked past the door to get to their classrooms.
whoever that girl was, he hates her with a burning passion- but is also quite amused to see someone like her trying to get a rise out of him and even have the guts to mock him in any form of way.
she said that they're classmates, right?
"heh, ran can eat the doriyakis by himself."
then that girl better prepare herself for a nice trip to hell.
#haitani ran x you#haitani rindou x you#haitani ran x reader#haitani rindou x reader#rindou haitani#ran haitani#haitani rindou#haitani ran#haitani brothers angst#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers angst
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