#this is the fall of his junior year if my math is correct | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

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winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader

Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).

I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.

(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)

Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love).

Word count: 9.4k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.

Like she’s doing now.

“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.

The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.

You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.

You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.

“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”

“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.

You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”

“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”

“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.

She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”

“You should go.”

You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”

“Why don’t you want to?”

You give her a look. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

She does. She knows exactly what happened there.

“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”

“So you do remember!”

“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”

You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”

You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.

+++

It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.

Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.

You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.

More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.

That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.

You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.

But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.

He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.

He was correct.

It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.

But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.

Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.

That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.

And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.

The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.

Until Aaron met Haley.

Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.

You watched your best friend fall in love.

And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.

You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.

Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.

Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).

How he thought he might want to marry her one day.

The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?

But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.

He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.

Then came the summer before his senior year.

It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.

June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.

July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.

Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?

But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.

Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.

You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.

You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.

The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.

You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.

You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.

+++

You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.

Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.

But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.

You need coffee.

You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.

Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.

Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.

You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.

So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.

You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.

Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.

Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.

Maybe he won’t recognize me.

But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.

Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.

If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?

The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?

Who is he?

You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?

You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.

You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.

Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.

“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.

“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”

He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.

Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.

“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.

And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.

Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.

Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.

It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.

“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”

“You stole my question,” he jokes.

“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”

He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”

“The B-A-What?”

“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”

“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”

“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”

“We’re a team,” he offers.

“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”

You give him a look. “Of course I do.”

“It’s not great.”

“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”

“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”

“You what?”

He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”

“Intriguing.”

“I can’t believe you’re interested.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”

“I remember,” he says quietly.

And just like that, you remember, too.

It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.

“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”

“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”

“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”

“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”

It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”

You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.

“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”

“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”

“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”

“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”

“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”

“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”

“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.

Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.

“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”

He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”

A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.

You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”

You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.

Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.

“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.

“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”

“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.

And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”

“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”

“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”

You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”

“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.

But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free.”

He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”

“I was going to ask,” he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”

After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.

He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.

“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”

Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.

You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.

Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.

Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.

+++

After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.

But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.

He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.

You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.

You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.

In the end, your prediction was correct.

“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.

The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”

“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.

You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”

She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”

There it is.

“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”

“Oh, I knew that already.”

You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”

She grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”

“Did he seem angry when you asked?”

“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”

“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”

“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”

Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”

Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”

“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”

“Shut up.”

She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”

While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.

Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today

You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.

He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.

You try not to think too much about it.

+++

And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.

You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.

Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.

You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.

“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.

You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.

“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”

“Okay…”

You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”

Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”

Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.

“So it’s...a date, then?”

“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”

“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”

“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”

“Same difference.”

“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.

+++

You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.

“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.

You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.

That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”

“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”

“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”

“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”

“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”

“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”

You blink. “They do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”

“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”

“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”

He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”

“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.

But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.

“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”

Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”

You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”

Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”

You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.

“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”

“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.

Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.

+++

You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.

You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.

Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.

Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?

You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.

But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.

It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.

He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.

You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.

You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.

Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.

Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.

But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.

“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”

“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.

When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”

“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”

“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”

“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.

Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.

After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.

In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”

From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”

“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”

He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”

“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.

+++

After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.

You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.

“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”

Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”

“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”

He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”

“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”

“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”

Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”

You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.

The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.

“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.

You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”

“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.

“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.

The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.

“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.

“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.

“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”

“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.

“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”

The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.

“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”

“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”

“In-- Wow, okay.”

“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.

“I see that,” you chuckle.

Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”

“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you smile.

“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”

“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”

“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.

She nods. “Definitely.”

Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”

“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.

“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.

“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”

Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”

You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”

“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”

You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.

“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.

“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.

You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”

For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.

Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.

You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.

Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.

+++

After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.

You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.

You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.

The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.

“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”

Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.

“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”

You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”

“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”

Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”

“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”

You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.

“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.

Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”

You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.

It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.

The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.

You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.

Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.

He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.

Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.

Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.

“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”

He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.

He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.

You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.

You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”

You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.

You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”

Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”

“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”

This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”

“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”

Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”

“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”

“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”

“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”

“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”

You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.

“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”

“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”

You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”

“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”

“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.

And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.

His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.

From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.

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stonesparrow · 3 years ago

Note

so i seriously just need help pinpointing senku’s & ryusui’s ages because at this point i can’t sleep at night (yes this is kinda long sorry :’( didn’t know who else to ask)

starting with ryusui, i’ve seen people hc him at around 20-ish, but here’s what i know:

he’s out of junior high at the time of the petrification, which means he was like 16+ (as expected)

he’s at most two years older than senku, as seen in that flashback of him at the racetrack after getting declined for being under 13 when the childhood friends trio are like 10

he gets depetrified 2 years after senku, making them,,,, the same age now

it’s... pretty hard to believe in my opinion??? this guy was literally shown to have a harem,, there’s no way he’s still a minor. i’m guessing we gotta play two truths and a lie with this one—and i’m betting the lie is that second bullet. i guess the question now is how old senku (and the other two) were in that flashback to give us a new age gap between them.

speaking of senku, the only reason i lost track of his age is bcause i’ve just genuinely lost track of time...

rewind to the start of the america arc, and they arrive at corn city just a tad bit before winter, right? referencing the wiki, that should’ve been the fall of 5742 (aka after senku’s 19th birthday in the january of the same year), which would line up with xeno’s math perfectly. thing is, we’re not shown another winter after the treasure island arc (if i’m correct), so the one they’ve been fighting the clock with should still be... the winter of 5741?

that would make him about to turn 19, which only makes xeno slightly off. then again, the supposed winter that they almost caught never arrived. unless, of course, ground zero was close enough to the equator that they simply don’t have winter there, like where i’m from. at this point i don’t know what to brush off as a continuity error or a lack of my knowledge anymore 😭

all that, plus i actually have no idea how long it’s been since everyone’s revival after the 7-year timeskip (making a perseus 2.0???? how many months would that have taken???) so seasons and times are quite the blur.

kinda makes me wanna map out a complete calendar of events ngl :’)

- 🪴

Anon I really don't know what to tell you, this has haunted me for AGES and I've tried to put together a detailed sequence of events by day and month before but some things just don't click very well and Ryusui's age is one of them. Honestly I'm sorry to disappoint but at this point I hc Ryusui as 21 at petrification (and Sai as 24). Maybe I will get around to making a long post about all the confirmed dates (I've referenced the fandom wiki before but I do feel compelled to do some stupidly meticulous research of my own)

Apologies for such a late and vague answer! I assure you that I constantly think about that one panel with the Childhood Friends and Ryusui's racetrack as well! (I tell myself the shot with the trio is a few years down the road but it's only to make me feel better about not being able to know exactly what's going on)

#dcst #dr stone #dr. stone #ask #dcst spoilers #dcst manga spoilers #headcanons #nanami ryusui #dcst ryusui

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wondersbeyondcompare · 3 years ago

Text

Majid’s School Uniform Story (R)

aka riddle gets to tutor another unfortunate soul

“The library is an ideal place to nap… Just don’t tell Senior Jamil about this, okay?!”

[Location:NRC Library]

Majid: *yawns* Seems like I’ve studied enough Magic History for today. Haah… If only Mr. Trein would lighten up on the homework. So what if that essay had to be 4 pages front AND back? He should’ve been more clear about that in his lecture.

Majid: …Well, not like I was listening in the first place. *yawns* The sunlight there is always so nice in the afternoons… I can’t help but sleep a little while I’m there.

*rustle* *rustle*

Majid: Ah, and the next subject I have to work on is…Math? What a pain of a class. *yawns* If only… if only I could juusst-

*thunk*

Majid: *snoring*

*footsteps*

Riddle: Is that…

*footsteps* *THUD*

Majid: !!!

Riddle: I thought so. You’re a freshman from Scarabia, correct? The one who’s always getting pulled along by your vice dorm leader because you keep dozing off?

Majid: …Sure.

Riddle: The library is not an appropriate place to sleep. If you wanted to take a nap, then hurry back to your dorm room, and do it there.

Majid: Yeah, okay.

Riddle: You… you’ve been acting rather impudent for a while now. I’m a 2nd year, you know? You should speak to your seniors with more respect. AND no one should be using the library as a place to procrastinate like this. Not to mention the way you present yourself in your uniform… You leave me no other choice. State your name.

Majid: What for?

Riddle: Your actions have been deplorable. I need your name to report them to your dorm leader.

Majid: Haha… It’s not like the dorm leader’s gonna care much about something as small as napping. Can’t you just let this slide?

Riddle: Alright, then I’ll talk to your vice dorm leader instead.

Majid: Ah, it’s Sebek Zigvolt, sir.

Riddle: Don’t mess with me!! Sebek Zigvolt is a Diasmonia student!

Majid: Well, I never said that was my name. I was just pointing out that he was walking right behind you at that moment.

Riddle: …Ah, so he was- HOLD ON A MINUTE.

*rustle*

Riddle: AND WHERE EXACTLY DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?

Majid: Tch. And I thought this would be the perfect time to escape too.

Riddle: TELL ME YOUR ACTUAL NAME, OR IT’S OFF WITH YOUR HEAD.

Majid: SH- SHAHIN, MAJID. MY NAME IS SHAHIN, MAJID, SIR;;;

Riddle: *sighs* So, Majid then. Good.

Majid: ‘What the hell’s ‘off with your head’ supposed to mean??? Is it some kind of decapitation spell???? Was I about to die a couple seconds ago??? Do the library workers have to clean up my splattered remains after this guy’s done with me??? Surely that kind of thing wouldn’t be allowed- No… our headmaster is plenty screwed up; he wouldn’t do anything to help me-’

Riddle: Majid.

Majid: !!! Yes.

Riddle: *tap* *tap* Is this a worksheet from your math class? I saw a couple of my underclassmen trying to finish it in our dorm… You should really get started on it. The deadline is tomorrow, correct?

Majid: Uh, yea- yes. I’ll go ahead and do that… sir.

Riddle: Well?

Majid: Wait, right now?

Riddle: Why not? The library is a valuable spot for information, so you could always use as many reference books as you see fit. Besides, I’m pretty sure the second you step foot in your dorm, you’ll collapse onto your bed and leave your work unfinished until the last minute.

Majid: …Are you sure we haven’t met before?

Riddle: *sighs* I was just generalizing based on what I’ve seen some of your peers do… Don’t tell me that the rest of the underclassmen are this prone to procrastination too… *rustle* Here. Start with question 1.

Majid: Fine, fine. *scribble* *scribble*

Riddle: …

Majid: *scribble* *scribble*

Riddle: Ah, that’s wrong.

Majid: Excuse me?

Riddle: That step you took right there. You forgot to distribute the negative sign to both variables.

Majid: Right… okay. Thanks.

Riddle: And on number 3, you graphed the wrong system of equations. A slope of 3/4 should be less steeper than that.

Majid: Gotcha.

Riddle: And number 2-

Majid: OKAY, okay! I get it! I did everything wrong! I’ll just erase all my answers, okay?! Jeez, you lecture as much as Jamil…

Riddle: This won’t do… At this rate… Alright.

Majid: And why are you sitting across from me now?

Riddle: It seemed like you were struggling on your own. And I have a few minutes of free time. Don’t worry; I’m at the top of my class in all of my subjects. Teaching algebra is hardly a daunting task.

Majid: But I don’t need any help. And should you really be letting your guard down to tutor someone from another dorm? Scarabia’s test scores are known for rivaling Octavinelle’s, y’know?

Riddle: Well, judging from how you answered those questions, it would be foolish to consider you a threat in the first place. Besides, what’s the point of defeating an opponent if they’re not at their best? Just consider this as a kind offer from your upperclassman to unlock your full potential.

Majid: …I can’t help but feel like I was insulted multiple times in those first two sentences, but thank you.

Riddle: Of course. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t tarnish this school’s good name.

***

[Location: NRC Library (Late Afternoon)]

Riddle: TCH. I ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT YOU HAD TO DO THE MULTIPLICATION SECTION FIRST, AND THEN YOU CAN ADD LIKE TERMS.

Majid: …

Riddle: AND HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO REPEAT THIS FORMULA TO YOU??? IT’S SO SIMPLE. EVEN A JUNIOR HIGH STUDENT COULD HAVE MEMORIZED THIS THE FIRST TIME IT’S TAUGHT TO THEM .

Majid: …….

Riddle: Ah… No, wait… I apologize. I didn’t mean to raise my voice… *sighs* But Majid, it’s been well over an hour now, and we’re not even halfway through your homework. Are you sure you’ve been taking this serio-

Majid: OF COURSE I’VE BEEN TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY!

Riddle: !!!!!

Majid: The teachers, hell, even my own classmates always end up asking me that same question! “If only you put a bit more effort into your studying”,; “You have a lot of potential… if only you could put a little more effort too”! As if I didn’t spend a ton of time already on my homework!! I had a shitty education when I was younger and sometimes I fall asleep in class, so I get that I won’t be as smart as everyone else, but…

Riddle: Majid…

Majid: I thought that I at least had the basics down… I guess no matter how hard I try, it’ll never be enough, huh?

Riddle: That’s not true.

Majid: Are you-

Riddle: I’m not lying to you. We can set aside your homework for now, but in the meantime, let me help you plan out some personalized study techniques. I can’t guarantee you’ll be in the top percentage of your class, but I can definitely save you from hearing those hateful words ever again. We’ll make sure your efforts don’t go to waste.

Majid: Aah… Thank you… Seriously, thank you so much…sir.

Riddle: Heh. Don’t worry about it. This is just another part of my duty as a fellow student of Night Raven College. Also make sure not to yell like that in the library ever again.

Majid: But weren’t you also just… Never mind, I understand.

Riddle: Good.

***

Majid: ‘This guy… what was his name again?’

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twisted wonderland ocs #twst ocs #twst oc art #twisted wonderland oc art #art #my art #my writing #writing #Majid #unlikely pairs interacting w/ each other pt 2 lol #also another case of majid having selective memory #can remember that random diasomnia student who yells a lot but cant remember the heartslabyul dorm leader who also yells a lot #maybe he just memorized sebek’s name just to make sure he could avoid places he frequented #and majid was DEFINITELY just calling riddle sir to avoid figuring out his name #dont come at me for majid’s one sleeve up one sleeve down thing #(´；Д；`) he does it b/c i do it and i wanted solidarity #so far majid’s stories have just been him getting help from the people around him but hey #boy kinda needs all the help he can get lol besides im a sucker for people treating majid like a younger brother #Riddle

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sleeperswakewriting · 4 years ago

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After Class

For @himebee-5's prompt!

Summary: Petra is Professor Ackerman's star student and yet, she keeps meeting him for office hours every Monday afternoon.

Rated: E

CWs: teacher/student relationship, age gap, praise kink

Word count: 3.2k

Surprise! I queued up another fic for smutty Saturday since I'll be out for most of the day--enjoy! 😉

She was distracting.

Levi prided himself in his stellar concentration, his perfunctory work, and despite his cold and callous demeanor, he was an excellent professor. Always receiving high remarks from his students and colleagues, and managing to churn out at least two research papers a year, there was little that compromised his neat routine.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he faced the chalkboard, clearing his throat. Levi Ackerman didn’t make mistakes, but after one look at her, his mind went elsewhere as he absently completed the calculus equation and one student shakily raised his hand and said, “E-excuse me sir, but I think you forgot to take the derivative in the fifth step.”

Taking a step back, realizing that his glasses slipped from its usual position since he took a double take at her, he merely nodded and erased the step in which he made the error and redid the equation. He thanked the student and a flurry of pencils hit paper as they recorded the problem, and Levi glanced at his watch, giving them a few minutes before he moved on.

It’s wasn’t just the plaid mini skirt and thigh high stockings that did it--he knew he was enough of a perverted old man that he at least acknowledged that turned him on, but the way she sat in the front row, prim and studious as she eyed him for the hour and a half lecture made him feel stupidly special. Most students’ eyes glazed over, and he didn’t give a shit if they were on their phones, it was their time and money after all, but the way her amber orbs never left him was almost damn unsettling if she didn’t have such a coquettish look.

Her short ginger hair was pulled back with a red head band today, and as he was giving back the first test of the semester, he paused at her seat and said, “Good work, Ms. Ral,” while sliding the test face down onto her desk. She beamed, looking at the paper, and her face fell at the grade. Levi frowned slightly, wondering what she could possibly be upset about since she received an 88, the third highest in the class. Calculus wasn’t an easy subject, and it was usually the class where students on the science and math track chose to drop out and choose a different major.

After passing out the tests, he returned to the desk at the front of the classroom to collect his things and head back to his office for his office hours for the day. As most of the students filtered out of the classroom, Petra sat stark still at her desk, eyes running over her exam, and eyebrows contorted in confusion.

“Is something wrong, Ms. Ral?” he asked, slinging his messenger bag over his grey dress shirt, adjusting his tie, and she looked up, eyes aglow. Levi pretended not to notice the way her tight long sleeved shirt hugged her curves, and the v-neck emphasized her breasts when she brought her arms together in anguish.

“I’m trying to figure out where I went wrong, Professor. I’m really disappointed in myself, I thought I aced this test.”

Levi cocked his head. “You should be proud of yourself, you have one of the highest marks in the class.”

Petra shook her head in disbelief. “Even so, I think I made far too many silly mistakes.” She sighed, shoulders slumping in clear disappointment. “I guess I’ll try harder next time. Sorry professor, you probably have to go--”

“My office hours are now,” he said, the words leaving his lips without even thinking. His glasses shone from the ceiling lights of the high lecture hall, and he swallowed. “We can go over the test if you’d like.”

And she smiled brilliantly at him again, collecting her things and swinging her fashionable book bag over her shoulder as she followed him to the math building. Levi kept at least three feet ahead of her, not wanting to give her the impression they had to make small talk since the math building was on the opposite side of the quad, and he breathed a sigh of relief when they entered his office. It was at the end of the hall of the third floor, a quiet place since it was around lunch time and most students were at the dining hall.

Levi closed the old wooden door and gestured for her to sit at the front of his desk while he deposited his bag and thumbed through the manila folder for the answer key. Petra set her things down and unfurled her own test, using his desk as she tapped her pencil at the corner of her lips.

“So which problems were giving you trouble?” He asked, loose leaf paper at the ready, and Petra motioned to problem number three.

“I get tripped up when there’s a double integral, I think.” She was already making the amendments in her head and she asked him for a piece of paper as well. Levi withdrew another from his desk cadenza and his breath hitched as their fingers touched. Stop acting like a teenage boy, he scolded himself, wondering when the last time he went on a date or had gotten laid because this was ridiculous. She was at least ten years his junior, his student no less, and she was just asking her math professor for help, even though she clearly didn’t need it.

She crossed her legs cutely, emphasizing her thighs between the space between her skirt and socks, and Levi averted his gaze as he forced himself to concentrate on her bright tone, going over her process as she circled and made the adjustments from her previous attempt.

“Yes, that’s correct. You want to integrate x and treat y as the constant. It’s like in the partial example, which you completed correctly in problem one.”

Petra smiled, nodding as understanding entered her field of vision and she completed the problem with ease. “Thank you Professor! Can you give me a harder problem just to make sure I understood the concept?”

And as Levi did his best to not pay attention to the way she said harder, he opened up the math textbook and selected an exercise, scratching it onto the paper between them and slid it towards her.

The mahogany desk was slightly too tall for Petra to comfortably lean against from the chair, so she sat up and leaned over to solve the problem, orange hair falling from her tucked ears. This time, Levi didn’t even bother looking away since Petra was fully invested in solving the equation, and he felt his pants tighten as he noted the white lace bra she had on underneath, and her round mounds spilling from her top.

“Is this right?” She asked, finally finishing, sitting back down in her seat and Levi coughed as he fought down the flush on his face.

He stared at the problem, willing himself to concentrate on the numbers in her neat handwriting, but he was finding it difficult to focus as he noticed her licking her lips after reapplying some chapstick. He took it line by line until he finally nodded and said, “Good work.”

Petra returned the paper to her folder and touched his hand gently from across the desk. “Thank you Professor Ackerman, it really means a lot to me that you went out of your way to help me. I guess the reviews were right after all.” His eyebrows rose since he didn’t usually make a habit to read his class reviews but relied on the report that the school gave him at the end of each term.

“Oh really? What do the reviews say?”

Petra giggled, and Levi felt his heart stop at the beautiful sound. “Well for one, they say you’re the sexiest teacher on campus, but more importantly, students who take your class are set up for success for linear algebra, which is my goal. I’m an astronomy major.”

He didn’t know why he found that to be a turn on since he worked at a university where there were literally hundreds of majors, but before he had a chance to think, Petra had collected her things and waved as she made for the brass knob of his office door.

“See you next week, Professor!”

And the door clicked shut. Levi’s head was spinning, and if he didn’t know any better, Petra was outright flirting with him, and he was having a difficult time processing that. He moved to lock the office door and he double checked to make sure that he didn’t have any upcoming meetings. Sinfully, he laid back in his chair and closed his eyes while he unbuckled his pants.

She’s your student, you filthy fuck. But her shiny lips, her sweet voice, and her intellect…

He stroked himself, thinking of her, and he came quickly, her name on his lips as he imagined himself taking her between her plaid skirt and thigh high socks.

---

Monday afternoons became a ritual for them, and while Levi attempted to muster up every ounce of professional courage, he found himself unable to say no to her. Every day, after class, she would sweetly ask if she could go over the day’s lecture, and he would say yes and they would wordlessly walk to his office and repeat the same routine.

It was always strictly professional, but he could have sworn that she was intentionally taking off her jacket or sweatshirt in front of him, sometimes leaving her in only a crop top. He decided then that she was purposely trying to kill him because the blood rushed faster to his groin than he could will himself to stop. He had to keep himself firmly behind his desk, not wanting to scare her from his raging hard-on as she pattered on about her misunderstandings for the day, and he would mutely nod, watching her the entire time.

She stopped the week during finals, only visiting him after his final lecture and he missed her presence during the two week absence. He eagerly awaited the day of the final exam, just to pathetically see her again, and there she was, front and center, pencil at the ready.

“This is my last test,” she whispered to him excitedly as he handed her the exam and he gave a thin smile and muttered a ‘good luck’ to her row, but looked at her the entire time.

She was the last to leave, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she handed him her packet, looking joyful.

“How did you find the test, Ms. Ral?” he asked, sparing her a last glance before she left his classroom for the final time. His heart ached at that, but he supposed it was for the best since dreams and visions of her had plagued him since the beginning of the semester.

“I think I aced it, thanks to my excellent teacher.” And she gave him a dazzling smile as she walked away and Levi trailed her form until she disappeared.

It was a routine message that Levi sent out to all of his students, that if they wanted to go over their final exam that they could set up office hours. He didn’t allow for debating for points--he had no time for that, and his grading procedure was precise and calculated, but he set up time slots for ease of the students.

So when he saw Petra Ral in his email, requesting for the last time slot before the last day of the grading period, he hurriedly clicked accept even though she received a perfect score on her test.

It was spring, and the promise of a new future hung in the air when Petra entered his office, wearing a similar ensemble to when she first came in, a red plaid skirt, thigh high stockings, and this time, a white knit t-shirt that unbuttoned just at her cleavage. She poked her head in, and he noticed that she didn’t carry a book bag, but opted for a small purse that slung over one shoulder.

“Hi Professor!” she chirped happily, hands clasped behind her back. Levi allowed himself a smile as he took her in.

“What can I do for you Ms. Ral? Surely you don’t have any complaints about this test--congratulations on ruining the curve, by the way. Your classmates are furious.”

Petra laughed, feeling satisfied with herself as she gazed at him--sleeves rolled up to his forearms and he opted for a vest and tie set that complimented his eyes nicely. “I wanted to let you know that I’m taking Professor Hange’s class next semester for linear algebra.”

His heart fell; he was also teaching that class, but maybe it didn’t fit into her schedule. He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “She’s a tough teacher, but she’s good at what she does. Don’t expect to be let go early, the woman can and will go on for hours.”

Petra smiled. “I’ll be sure to make a note of it.” And she shuffled between her feet as a light blush came to her cheeks. “I wanted to give you a thank you gift, for all the office hours you’ve given to me the past semester.”

Levi raised a thin eyebrow between his glasses. “You don’t have to do that, Ms. Ral. It’s part of my job. You’re an excellent student, you made my job very easy.”

She batted her eyelashes as she stepped closer to him. He was seated in his leather office chair, arms crossed and she took a deep breath as she stood a foot apart from him, hands still playing with each other behind her back. “It’s nothing expensive. And you can call me Petra, Professor, the semester is over.”

And before Levi could question her words, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek. Levi’s heart pounded in his chest, noticing that Petra was visibly shy despite the bold gesture she had just committed and he stared at her, slack jawed.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Levi’s eyes widened, and the hungry need he had for her over the past three months took over. Before he knew it, he was tugging at her wrist and she was straddling his lap, skirt pooling between them as he devoured her into a kiss, lips furiously nipping and biting as she let out an animated moan. Her hands went for his tie, pulling it from his vest and then around his neck where she buried her fingers into his undercut. A shiver of pleasure went down Levi’s spine as he settled his hands at her waist, then her back, and then at the fabric at the end of her shirt.

Panting, Petra raised her arms, signalling for him to take it off, and Levi let out a groan and a fucking hell at her lacy push up bra. Arms wrapped around each other again, Petra leaned into his chest, pressing her tits against him while she grinded against his lap, smiling as she devilishly noticed his hard-on between their clothing. Her breath was hot against his as she moved to unbutton his vest, and he raised himself to take it off, but let out a hiss as their centers made contact.

Not being able to help himself, Levi trailed his fingers up and down her legs, groaning that he was finally able to touch her, and the way the spandex hugged her skin was driving him crazy. He dove between her skirt, reaching for her panties and he played at her apex, noticing that she was incredibly wet, which only turned him on more.

Petra keened and threw her head back in pleasure as he began lavishing her neck with kisses and suckled at her jawline, happy that she tasted as beautiful as she looked. A light floral perfume danced across her flesh, and he inhaled her as he undid the headband from her hair, freeing the locks so he could bury his nose between them.

“Professor, ah, can you please touch me?” She asked weakly, eyes clenched shut from Levi’s ministrations and he chuckled.

“Only because you’ve been such a good student,” he whispered into her ear, and she nodded as he slipped a finger in, and pleasured sighs escaped both of their lips.

“God, you’re so fucking wet. Were you planning on this before you came in?” Levi asked, using his other hand to unbuckle his pants and slid down his zipper.

Petra was finding it harder and harder to think as Levi pumped into her, alternating between two and three fingers, teasing her clit and taking his hands away before she could go any higher. Vision going blurry, she reached for the back of her bra and undid the hook, letting it fall between them and Levi ripped it off, freeing her breasts.

He took a nipple between his teeth and bit down hard, earning a cry from Petra as she begged him to keep touching her while he buried his face into her chest. Petra moved to play with both of her nipples, all while riding against his hand and she felt like her heart was about to explode from Levi’s touch.

She slid her tongue against his lips, drinking him in as she asked him to help slide her panties down, and he obliged, but not before pocketing them into his pants. She shot him a questioning look, and he smirked, “This is my thank-you gift.”

Bashfully, Petra smiled and pawed him between his underwear, stroking his length up and down with her hand and she pulled his waist down just far enough to free his member. She gasped at his size, and Levi let out a hum of satisfaction while she took a moment to gaze at it, providing him with light touches.

“Levi, can I ride you?” She asked demurely, eyes fixated on his dick and he gripped her by the ass to guide her close.

Leaning over, he whispered into her ear, “That’s Professor Ackerman to you.”

Petra keened at his husky voice, and lowered herself onto him, moaning loudly as he breached her, dick hot against her tight entrance.

“That’s a good girl,” he encouraged, holding her close as she steadily bobbed up and down, her wetness providing enough slickness between them. His balls smacked against his legs, and her tits bounced each time she reached his hilt and she cried out.

Wild with lust, Levi toyed with her clit as she continued to ride him, fingers dancing and shaking as she paused to catch her breath. Their eyes met, and with equal fervor, they kissed as Petra braced her hands against his shoulders, pace increasing and then reaching her climax in a frenzy as she bobbed up and down.

“Professor,” she whined, releasing her hands and crying into his collar as she rode out her orgasm.

Levi’s eyes were clenched shut as her walls fluttered around him, her tightness becoming too much for him as he also met his own pleasure, and he pumped into her in short pulses. Breaths panting, he looked up to meet Petra, who was smiling between breaths.

Still sitting comfortably inside her, Levi laughed warily, unsure of where to go from here. Petra, still wrapping her body around his, licked the lobe of his ear as she said sultrily into his ear, “Did that count as extra credit?”

#rivetra #rivetra fanfiction #Levi x petra #petra x levi #petra ral #my fics

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ghooostbaby · 4 years ago

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Reading the MDZS novel

A high octane journey through the final extras chapter

• ahh LWJ and WWX role playing they've never met before?!

• Lan WangJi, sir, I frankly cannot believe that you, an educator, are lying to children about math

• I got very excited when I first thought this was in Gusu Lan sect, and that they hang out with the little kids there! Logically if they teach the juniors as teens they MUST also teach younger kids and I just want to see it!!!!

• Ahhhhh wei ying feeding Lan Zhan things ... just all of it

• wwx sticking a sweet thing into his mouth and lwj just letting it stay there, and then wwx is like do you like it? And how lwj says nothing. And how wwx says I'll take back if you don't say if you want it! So lwj bites it (oh how he loves to bite what we wants)

• Honestly its one of the most romantic things in my opinion, that knowing lwj has trouble saying what he wants, wwx doesn't try to fix him, and just playfully gives him snacks to try, while teasing him

• The two of them just sauntering around a market together omg the domesticity im MELTING

• "When [Lan WangJi] finished [the snacks], Wei WuXian would always ask, 'How was it? How was it?' Sometimes Lan WangJi replied 'fine', while other times he replied 'excellent', yet more of than not, he would reply 'strange'. Whenever that happen Wei WuXian would laugh and take it, not letting him have any more." AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

• Lan WangJi being the baby oh my heart!

• Lan WangJi sneaking off to secretly learn to cook Wei WuXian's favourite soup for him it hurts

• Wei WuXian: you're a virgin who can't cook

• Lan WangJi: *is silent*

• 1 minute later

• Wei WuXian: plzzzzzz hanguang jun cook for Meeeee

• Love how they bully each other. Love how wwx has no poker face. Love lwj loving to win and being all big and good and getting kissed. Love wwx loving losing to lwj and being all small and bad in his lap.

• Also wwx calling lwj "my dear" (as the translation goes) !!!!

• OK there's just too many little back and forths that I am HOWLING over! WWX begging to be cooked for about to jump in his lap! lwj then correcting his posture!!! The "Er-Gege you can't treat me like this"!!!! And then finally holding wwx's hand and saying he cooked for him already!!!!

• But also hasn't it been months?? Atleast?! What have they been eating all this time?

• Wei Ying!!! No sex in the restaurant!

• Ohhh WWX being serious and he's just so earnestly overjoyed that his husband is a good cook fuck they're sweet

• Ahhhhh smile lan zhan, smile! It would send your wei ying through the roof

• Oh nooooo now they're playing a CARNIVAL GAME?!?! I am dead. They're winning toys for each other ahhhhhhhh help me

• Lan WangJi repeated, "Whatever it lands on is mine." We all know what you're thinking you possessive bitch

• Yeeeeeee forehead ribbon tugging in public. Who belongs to who now?!

• "I want whichever one you get." Oh lwj and your beautiful pure heart

• Ahahahahaha "Look at you. What are you doing in front of all these people?" Lan WangJi, "What?" Wei WuXian, "You're flirting with me." Lan WangJi's expression was calm, "I am not."

• The gentle teasing, the deep familiarity, the sense that they are that old married couple at the farmers market so in love after 100 years oh my god

• Ahhhh if wei wuxian can throw from that far away that must mean he developed mo xuanyu's golden core this is too much goodness

• "The jinshi is a peaceful place only for playing the guqin and burning incense"!?! Wei WuXian I've read about many other things occurring there ...

• Aghhh you never see LWJ as a normal teacher so the image of hanguang jun standing up at the front of a normal classroom as the juniors file into their desks ... "good morning class" ... with the new souvenir their teacher's husband got for him on their recent romantic getaway on display

• Honestly these two being teachers is the sweetest thing. Imagine having this hot gay magical power couple be your teachers.

• Ohhh they're actually in lotus pier!? Ugh my heart

• so adorable and dramatic lwj! wwx: "don't tip the boat sweetie." lwj: "do not worry. I can save you if you fall."

• "Yes! We can come again." Ugh these two. So gorgeous

• The way wwx reacts to lwj's smiles ... they are so so so in love (and the fact that Lan Zhan smiled at Wei Ying saying he wanted to trick him into getting beaten by the angry lotus farmer!)

• Oh Lord!!!! The serenity of lwj when they've fallen in the water, and he takes the blame for tipping the boat, so then wwx takes the blame, and they laugh and kiss!!!! SO. IN. LOVE. I am so happy for these sweet little lambs

• "Back then, all I really wanted was to play with you." Ajhh wwx you're going to end me.

• LWJ just scooping him up and putting him back in the boat, its too much!!

• Did lwj retrieve wwx's hair ribbon from the water or does he just keep a supply of red ribbons incase wwx needs one?!

• Oh no LWJ now you've DEFINITELY killed me: "you can try now to see if I would reject you over anything."

• And then wwx's reaction "please warn me before you say anything so romantic, or else i won't be able to take it." ahaaaaa you little shit. But honestly SAME

• And then lwj's little "ok" !!!! Imagine that he takes this seriously and from then on periodically says, "Wei Ying, I'm about to say something really romantic." And Wei Ying takes his hand and says, "OK, I'm ready Lan Zhan."

• So glad they get to have endless laughter and hugs now. My sweet darlings, you deserve it

• They really are so perfect

I love them so much

#this chapter killed me #now to start the novel again to actually read it in order and for the plot ahaha #mdzs #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian

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missjanjie · 3 years ago

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Better Than Revenge | (2/?)

Title: Better Than Revenge Summary: Karma Inc.’s business structure is simple - clients hire them when they’ve been grievously wronged and they send one of their revenge mercenaries to right them. As painstaking as their efforts to remain ethical may be, that may be tested when former detective, Rosé, enlists the squad to pick up where she couldn’t on a much higher scale, with potentially greater consequences. Word Count: ~2.6k (this chapter) | ~5.3k (total) Relationship(s): Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx), Jankie (Jackie Cox/Jan Sport), Halldoll (Nicky Doll/Jaida Essence Hall), Gimone (Gigi Goode/Symone), Gottlux (Gottmik/Olivia Lux) Rating: T

TW for this chapter: implied domestic abuse, attempted sexual coercion of a minor, deadnaming/transphobia

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: Rosé learns Nicky, Jan, and Mik's revenge origin stories

Milwaukee, WI - 2007

“I think my parents are starting to get suspicious,” Jaida quietly confessed, her gaze downcast to the floor while Nicky sat behind her, braiding her hair.

Nicky frowned, her brows furrowed as she tied off the braid she’d put Jaida’s hair in with a hair elastic. “What is making you say that?” she asked, moving so she was facing the other girl and taking her hands into her own.

She shrugged, fumbling with the hem of her shirt until Nicky’s grasp stilled them. “Just feels like they’re snooping around more, suddenly real interested in my life. And you know they’re always acting weird whenever we’re at my house together. Last time they made us keep the door open, remember?”

“I had assumed that was an American thing,” she confessed. She had only moved to the states a couple of months ago, at the start of her and Jaida’s junior year of high school, and she was still learning how to differentiate cultural differences from people behaving unusually to her specifically.

“You think everything you don’t understand is an American thing,” Jaida rolled her eyes with a fond smile, “though I guess you’re right most of the time,” she conceded.

Nicky shrugged it off, redirecting back to the topic at hand. “But you’re worried they’re going to find out about us and poop will hit the ceiling.”

“Shit will hit the fan,” she corrected, then sighed. “I mean, think about it — my mom’s a Sunday school teacher and my dad’s the son of a preacher, they take ‘traditional family values’ very seriously. And I don’t know how things are in France but there’s nothing traditional about this,” she explained, gesturing between the two of them.

She frowned, her brows knitting together. “But we are happy together, surely once we graduate, we can—”

“It’s not that simple, Nicky!” Jaida tossed her head back and groaned. “I love you, but in a place like this, sometimes love just ain’t enough.”

And maybe it was denial, or maybe it was blind optimism, but Nicky had refused to take that answer lying down. She fought for Jaida and fought even harder to keep the relationship away from her disapproving parents. For a while, it seemed to be working, they had their beautiful, fleeting moments that let them believe that everything would be okay.

It was the first day back after spring break and Nicky immediately noticed a change in her girlfriend. It was like the life and light had been drained from her like she was only present physically. And despite the warm weather, she was dressed for late fall. She rushed towards her, taking her hand. “Ma chérie, what’s wrong? You look so unwell.”

Jaida hesitated before pulling her hand away. “I can’t hang around you anymore,” she replied. “Though I’m not gonna see anyone around here for a while starting real soon,” she mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“My parents found out, Nicky,” she choked out, forcing back a sob, “and they were mad, I ain’t never seen them so mad. They’re sending me to military school… well, they gave me a choice between that and conversion therapy… seemed like the better option.”

Nicky bit down on her quivering lip. “But you can find me when you are done, right?” She reached out to her again, but Jaida backed away to step out of her grasp.

“I can’t. Besides, you won’t want me anyway, I won’t be the same person.”

She tried to grab for her once more, desperate to keep her, looking at her with watery, pleading eyes. “Jaida, I can’t—”

“Please,” she sniffled, “don’t make this harder than it’s already gonna be.”

And perhaps Nicky should have let it go, accepted losing her first love, and moving on with her life. Sure, she would eventually. She would move around for school, for work, meeting many beautiful women along the way, but none of that happened until she made sure Jaida’s parents experienced at least a fraction of the hurt they had caused the both of them.

Her plan had been elaborate and convoluted and would require a heavy amount of stealth work and computer literacy to pull off. But as it turned out, her plan of convincing the two parents that the other was cheating on them was quite easy when her snooping unearthed the fact that both of them already were. All she needed to do was bring it to light.

Present Day

“When you think about it,” Nicky mused, “I did them a favor. There are worse ways they could’ve found out than having an envelope full of proof dropped off at your workplace. At least no one made a scene… as far as I know, at least.”

“Does Jaida know?” Rosé asked. “Now that you guys have reconnected, have you caught her up to speed? Because it seems like something you should tell her.”

Nicky winced and looked away. “It… has not come up yet,” she murmured. “There is no easy way to inform someone that you were the catalyst in their parent’s divorce. Unless you have a way, in which case, feel free to share with the class.”

She shrugged, putting her hands up in surrender. “I got nothing, but my point remains. It’s gonna bite you in the ass badly if you wait too long to say anything.” When Nicky shrugged it off, she decided to move on. “What about you, Bubbles?” she asked, looking towards Jan, “what sort of scathing revenge does someone as bouncy as you come up with?”

Jan pressed her lips into a fine line, holding back what was either a smile or a grimace. “Well, this also happened in high school, an all-girl Catholic school, of course…”

Old Bridge, NJ - 2009

Jan was nothing if not brave. Coming out in tenth grade, especially considering the environment she was in, was a choice that couldn’t be taken lightly. While she had the support of her family and closest friends, the school environment had been a different story.

“Janice, could you stay back for a moment?” her math teacher, a conventionally attractive man in his early thirties, prompted as the final bell rang.

With math being her weakest subject, Jan was instantly concerned and nodded. “Of course, sir. Is something wrong?” she asked as she walked over to his desk.

“I think something is very wrong,” he replied as he got up. “Janice, I am highly concerned with your mental wellbeing.” He stopped in front of her, cupping her face with both hands. “You’re such a bright, beautiful girl. It would be such a shame for you to throw that away because you’ve chosen to shun God and live in sin.”

Jan felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach and her throat tighten. This was inevitable, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. She started shaking her head. “N-No, I’m… I’m not, I—”

“Shh…” he pressed his thumb to her lips to quiet her, then swiped it across her bottom lip. “Part of being a good Christian is overcoming temptation. And that’s what you want, isn’t it? Isn’t it what your parents want for you?” His hands move to her shoulders, squeezing them gently. “God gave you this body to lay with a man, you just need to be put in the right direction before it’s too late. I could help you, I could save you.”

Jan felt sick to her stomach. She hated every moment of the interaction; she hated the feeling of his hands on her, the way he was leering at her body, undressing her with his eyes. But at the same time, it was hard to lean into that hate, because he did pick on every insecurity she had in regards to her faith. But her sense of self won out and she was able to free herself of his grasp and run out of the room as fast as her legs would take her.

Any shame or guilt she might have felt was quickly replaced by anger and a desire to stop the man that tried to rob her of her innocence from harming anyone else. But she was still cautious, she knew there was a risk of retaliation if she spoke out alone, that was when her plan formed.

She created a fake Facebook account of a fifteen-year-old girl who was ‘planning on transferring to her school’. That was why she messaged the teacher, and after a few days of exchanging messages, ‘Samantha’ had agreed to meet up with him, the conversation in no uncertain terms making his intent clear.

Now, the obvious path from there would have been to go to the police, but that wasn’t good enough for Jan. Instead, she went to her godfather, who had promised he’d always help her ‘by any means necessary’. So, it was neither the police nor ‘Samantha’ that met the teacher at the park. Instead, it was two burly men who drove home a rough lesson that he was to turn himself in the next day, lest he face even worse consequences. He’d been given a flash drive with a copy of the whole exchange and was told he had exactly twenty-four hours and that the police would be expecting him.

Of course, those details weren’t in the subsequent news story of the teacher’s arrest. The conviction, however, was disappointing to Jan, as it was only two years and a thousand dollar fine, as well as losing his teaching license and having to register as an offender.

Present Day

“But rest assured, people are keeping an eye on him these days. You know, should he ever try and act up,” Jan explained with a shrug.

Rosé’s mouth was hanging open by the time Jan had finished her story. “So, you put a hit out on a pedo. I mean, shit, color me impressed,” she chuckled softly, then quickly followed up with, “I’m so sorry any of that happened to you, though. I’ve had people in my life try to weaponize religion against me after I came out. It’s never an easy pill to swallow.” She then looked at the group curiously. “Are you all…”

“Mik’s pan but yeah, the rest of us are gay,” Gigi confirmed with a nod. “At first, I thought that’d be the only thing we all have in common, but here we are now.”

“Chosen family is super important,” Mik agreed, “you never know who you can’t trust in your bloodline.”

Rosé quirked her brow. “That what happened to you?”

Scottsdale, AZ - 2015

Mik had been sitting across from his parents in dead silence for the past five minutes. There was no easy way to break it, let alone a correct one. On the coffee table in front of them were printed pictures of screenshots from his private Twitter account, where he presented himself as his true identity, but the precautions he took weren’t enough.

“Kady, sweetheart, I’m sure Uncle Joe brought this to our attention with your best interest at heart,” his mother said in as sweet of a voice as she could muster, which only served to sound fake to her son.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh please, don’t give me that. If it was ‘concern’ he would’ve told you privately. He sent it to the family group chat then told you that, and I quote, ‘your daughter thinks she’s a tranny’,” he struggled to keep his tone even, but he knew he needed to coddle his parents’ feelings if he wanted a chance of being taken seriously.

“I’m sure it just caught him by surprise,” his father offered.

Mik groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Even if he did, he wasn’t treating it like a fun piece of gossip, he hunted down my private account and outed me to humiliate me, and it would mean a lot if you guys had my back on this.”

This brought another wave of silence upon his parents. He couldn’t get a clear read on them, but they seemed stressed, confused, and most painfully, they seemed sad. His mother slowly picked her head back up. “Kady, I—”

“My name is Mik.”

“Listen, honey, you’re going to have to give us some time to adjust,” his dad tried to ease the tension, “you’re still our child, but this isn’t an easy thing to process, your mother especially is mourning the loss of her daughter.”

Mik felt his chest tighten in anger and hurt. “But I’m not—” he got up, shaking his head. “Right, fine,” he mumbled and escaped to the sanctuary of his bedroom. Left alone with his thoughts, the anger he had towards his parents dissipated and the rage shifted solely onto his uncle. After all, this was his fault. He was the one that robbed him of the opportunity to come out on his terms, and with the active intent to cause harm.

The anger didn’t go away over the following weeks. Instead, it built up, it festered inside of him as the summer after high school began. He had downloaded Grindr out of casual curiosity, and it was only a matter of minutes before a profile caught his eye. “No fucking way,” he grinned.

Of course, it was Joe, Mik realized how much of a cliche it was, but that didn’t change the fact that his bigoted uncle that tried to ruin his familial relationships was soliciting male escorts on a gay dating app. The opportunity for revenge essentially fell into his lap. He made a fake account and exchanged messages with him, just enough to get the evidence he needed.

The last step was simple, he dropped the screenshots into the same group text without any comment and removed himself from the group chat right after. He didn’t need to see the chaos unfold, Uncle Joe’s absence from the next family gathering was all he needed.

Present Day

“Just to be clear,” Mik added as he finished the story, “I’m against outing people, for the most part, obviously it should be something done on your terms. But shit, sometimes it’s gotta be an eye for an eye, you know?”

“Wait, I have a question,” Jan chimed in, “is he out now? Do y’all even talk to him anymore?”

He shook his head. “He moved to Alabama, I guess he wanted to go somewhere to double-down on the bigotry. No idea what happened after that. But, you know, good fucking riddance.”

“Amen to that,” Rosé agreed. “I don’t know how you guys have figured out that line of deciding what’s morally sound and what’s ethical enough. It seems to work, but it seems hard.”

“Jackie helped a lot with that,” Jan told her, her face lighting up and her smile broadening as she continued, “she has this pragmatic take on these things while still understanding that there’s so much ambiguity and morally gray areas. She’s honestly the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

Rosé nodded as she listened. “I’m glad you guys have someone like that on your team. How long have you two been dating?”

Jan turned bright red, worsened by the way the rest of the group laughed. “Oh, um, we’re not dating. She and I are… very close friends,” she explained.

“Ah,” the corners of her lips tugged into a smirk, “you’re just fucking, got it,” she observed, causing another eruption of laughter from the others, much to Jan’s chagrin. Once it died down, she redirected her attention to the half of the group that had yet to recall their stories. “Alright, who’s next?”

#halldoll #jankie #rpdr rpf

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fanficteen · 4 years ago

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stale blood (3)

chris argent x reader

The months passed peacefully, and the McCall pack slowly let their guards down. Every week, Scott, Stiles, and Lydia would hand in their homework with a little note, giving you a time and address with just the words “pack meeting” above it. Each time you tutored Malia, she would also leave you with a little note at the end of the week. And every week, you would throw the notes away and mark their assignments. Then two of your students turned up with their throats clawed out and suddenly the Sheriff was knocking on your door. “Miss (L/N).” His face was grave, but there was something familiar about him. “Sheriff Stilinski. I just have a few questions to ask you.” Of course. Stilinski. “Come in. Would you like a cup of tea?” The familiar rattle of Stiles’ Jeep lurched along the road outside, but there was another vehicle with it. Just as the Sheriff opened his mouth to respond, there was another knock.

“Bring yourself and your friends in, Mr Stilinski,” you called, not even moving from the kitchen. Stiles and Scott filed in, followed by Allison… and her father. “If I wanted to meet the pack, McCall, I would’ve come to one of those meetings.” Scott, at the very least, had the decency to look apologetic, as he gestured helplessly between Stiles and his now-irritated father. “Stiles, what have I told you–“ “He was only concerned about your wellbeing, Sheriff.” You turned on the kettle. “Would anyone like tea? I’m afraid I don’t have anything stronger.” “Does he have need to be concerned?” Stilinski inquired, as Scott and Allison both agreed to tea. Your small kitchen was becoming quite crowded. “Sheriff, if I wanted to kill someone and get away with it, I wouldn’t have clawed their throats out and left them outside my own workplace,” you told him, matter-of-factly. “And I’m not in the habit of killing kids, no matter what hunters might say.” Stilinski glanced over to Chris, who nodded. “She’s a witch. If she wanted someone gone, she could make sure we didn’t even know they ever existed.” His voice was deeper, heavy with the weight of his years, but you weren’t surprised. Neither of you were kids anymore.

Eventually, Stilinski nodded, thanked you, and headed for the door, with a trepidatious Stiles on his tail. Scott and the Argents lingered. “Sheriff.” Father and son paused, glancing back to you. “I know it’s your job, and you’re probably more aware than most cops around here. But I think it’d be best if you take a partner to question suspects from now on. Preferably that Hellhound that’s been sniffing around the school.” A beat passed, in which the Stilinskis had a very in-depth conversation using just their eyes, then he nodded. “Understood.” The door closed behind them. Silence settled around the room as you met Chris’ eyes. “We should go,” you heard Allison prompt, quickly finishing her tea. Chris didn’t move. “Dad?” “It’s been a while, Mr Argent.” There was no escaping this. “I don’t think I thanked you properly.” “You don’t owe me any thanks.” A beat. “I’m sorry.” “For saving my life?” Shock spiralled through his blue eyes. “What happened to my parents wasn’t your fault. In fact, it wasn’t even your father’s fault. They earned what they got.” You offered him a tired, lopsided smile. “Thanks for giving me a chance.” The room was quiet again as Chris gaped at you. You turned to Scott.

“It’s 7pm tomorrow for the pack meeting, right?” The young alpha also stared at you for a long moment, then a grin crept across his face. “7pm at Derek’s,” he confirmed, happily. “Well, I suppose I can spare a little of my grading time,” you sighed, melodramatically. Scott’s smile widened. “I owe you all a bit of an explanation.” You heard Stiles’ Jeep start up outside, the Sheriff’s car already puttering away down the street. “You’re going to miss your ride.” Stiles’ voice bellowed from outside as you finished your sentence. “We’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Scott confirmed, backing towards the door. “8.30am sharp, McCall,” you teased, earning an eyeroll. “Yes, I’ll be there.” “We should go too,” Allison prompted again, as Scott disappeared. Chris nodded, vaguely. “You start the car, honey.” He chucked her the keys and she followed Scott outside. “(Y/N)…” You smiled up at him as he trailed off, so many words welling on his tongue, fighting for first place. “It’s ok, Chris.” And his shoulders dropped, as though he’d held something heavy for too long. And you supposed, in a way, he had. It took you a moment to realise he was crying, silent tears glistening from his piercing eyes. “Thank you.” His voice was barely a whisper, but he knew you could hear him. You just smiled again, a sad, sorry sort of a smile, then he bade you farewell and headed for the door. “Chris?” He paused in the doorway, a raised eyebrow glancing over his shoulder. “What do you know about cats?”

When Scott had said tonight’s pack meeting was going to include everyone, you didn’t think he’d actually meant everyone. It had to be half the town, crammed into the loft. “Derek,” the man who answered the door informed you, holding out a hand. “(Y/N).” “Is this the new girl?” Another face appeared behind him – a little older, fairer, framed in a V-neck tee. “You must be Peter,” you greeted, politely, though all you could see was Lydia huffing about Satan in a V-neck. “A pleasure.” You followed them into a very crowded living room. Allison, Malia, and Lydia were crowded together on one couch, chatting comfortably about some maths assignment. Scott was talking to two boys you didn’t recognise and the slightly older Hellhound you’d seen around. Derek immediately made a beeline for Stiles, who was perched precariously on the kitchen counter reaching for something on a high shelf. Sheriff Stilinski and Chris were talking to another woman you didn’t recognise. Then Malia’s eyes lit up and she was bounding across the room, and you were engulfed in the werecoyote’s enthusiastic embrace. “I was starting to think you weren’t actually coming,” she informed you, happily. “I’m glad you’re finally here.” “Glad to see my daughter likes you more than me,” Peter assessed, wryly. Malia rolled her eyes, but shot her father a grin anyway. By now, you had garnered Scott’s attention, and he took the floor, making the rest of the pack fall quiet.

“First off, a lot of us already know, but I’d like to introduce our newest pack member–“ You raised an eyebrow at that, but Scott just beamed back, unabashed. “Miss (L/N).” “You know, I think you can safely call me (Y/N) out here, Alpha boy,” you pointed out, as though taking the floor wasn’t terrifying. “Give him a few weeks to get used to that one,” the woman piped up, “It took him two months to process that my name wasn’t “Mom”.” Scott blushed, groaning, as laughter smattered through the room. “You must be Mrs McCall, then,” you gathered, holding out a hand to her. “I’m (Y/N), Scott’s history teacher.” “Melissa.” Her smile was warm and gentle, so full of kindness you wondered if it could soothe any wound. And then you were standing in front of a room full of strangers. Not that this was new, as a teacher, but you didn’t usually have to teach a syllabus on yourself.

But you talked anyway. About meeting Chris. About your parents. About Ennis finding you, biting you. About losing your pack brother. And then, about losing your whole pack. About fighting for your life, fighting the man who had almost been your father. About waking up in that hospital with your neck stitching itself back together. “You’re not a wolf, though.” The prompt came from Lydia, keen hazel eyes fixed firmly on you. “No,” you agreed, vaguely. Chris raised an eyebrow. You looked away. “Something went wrong when he bit me. I don’t know if it was because I’m a witch or something else, but… I became a black dog.” “A dog?” one of the boys repeated, raising an eyebrow. “How terrifying. What are you going to do, bark our enemies to death?” “Isaac,” Scott growled. “A black dog,” Allison corrected, turning all eyes to her. “Like a Grim?” “Like a Grim,” you agreed, directing a sharp smile at Isaac. “I don’t think you’d like it if I barked.” He scratched the back of his neck as Stiles snickered. Derek elbowed him. “Now, more importantly,” you turned back to Scott, “I think I know what killed those two juniors.” “Why is nothing ever just a mountain lion anymore?” you heard Stilinski groan. You grabbed your satchel from where it was crumpled by the door, pulling out a huge, old book. “A cat?” Stiles questioned, as you flicked the page open. “A fairy cat,” you corrected, pointing to the page. “A chapalu, cat sidhe, cath palug, whatever you want to call it.” “Fairy cat sounds least threatening,” the youngest boy piped up. “Great, we’ll just call the giant killer cat a fairy until it grows tiny wings and turns pink,” Peter drawled, dryly. “Let a kid dream, not all of us are hardened lunatics,” Stiles retorted, laughing. “Former,” Peter corrected, “I’m much better now.”

“Scott.” The young Alpha paused on the doorstep when Derek said his name, glancing back over his shoulder. “Why does (L/N) smell of blood?” Scott frowned, sniffing the air again. “She always smells like that. I assumed it was a witch thing?” Derek hummed, unconvinced. “Not a witch thing,” Peter mused, “Maybe a Grim thing?” “Or maybe she’s bleeding.” All the wolves’ eyes shot to Melissa as she spoke. “Don’t look at me like that. (Y/N) is a grown woman, I wouldn’t go asking too many questions if she smells a bit coppery now and again.” They all grimaced as Melissa pulled Scott to the car, muttering about damn nosy werewolves.

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oikawas-fav-alien · 5 years ago

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Dominant | Taichi Kawanishi x Reader

✧ Summary: Student body president to the most renown school in the Miyagi Prefecture, it made you wonder how Kawanishi, a regular on the infamously dominant volleyball team, was such a lazy jackass.

warnings: language, otherwise none, rated K+ :)

✧ Masterlist ✧

As the student body president, it was your sworn duty to uphold the high ethics as a student and leader. Many often described your personality as rough or overly haughty from your mean-looking resting face. However, they continued to vote for you simply because you were the most qualified and your very presence screamed authority. You wanted to pursue politics in the future and therefore treated the role professionally. In your first-year, you were already elected as a delegate to the student government. Second-year, you were the vice president. And in your third-year you were the highest position possible. The only thing that kept you held back before was the very fact that underclassmen were not allowed to run as president.

You used the position as practice and cared for your potential constituents. There were a few major players here and there, thankfully they were your friends. Growing up alongside Ushijima and Tendou had their benefits. If you had the favor of the volleyball team, you might as well have the whole school crawling in the palm of your hand. Thankfully, none of the people actually on the team could run for student government since they were so busy with the sport. To win over the rest of the student body, there was a fairly popular second-year student who came from a wealthy family that many just looked up to. You often questioned why she did not run for student govt. and once asked her why.

After spotting her at the library, you decided on approaching the girl, “You would be perfect and I don’t see why not.”

“Thanks senpai, but nah. After you’ve seen the shit that I’ve seen... You wouldn’t want to be the leader of such arrogant little sheep.”

You laughed at her metaphor and asked, “I didn’t know sheep could be conceited?”

“Of course! They’ll give you all the attitude in the world, but still follow you in the end.” She joked. Behind her you recognized the light tuft of brown hair that indicated the presence of the current starting setter of the volleyball team.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Shirabu-kun.” You nodded to the boy who was waiting for the girl in front of you, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you from your boyfriend.” Almost instantly, they both denied the claim. The both of them were rather sheepish in their words and you wondered really if the two of them did not have something going on.

“That’s cute. Well, when you guys end up going to the spring formal together, be sure to send pictures to the Shiratorizawa Academy page on Instabook!” You advertised to the blushing couple, walking away before they assaulted you with more denials.

You were early to your class and browsed away on said application to see the newest posts. Since you were the secret wielder of the Shiratorizawa page, you saw everything. People were still liking the post of Semi and his girlfriend at the autumn formal and that had been months ago. There were various other couples scattered throughout the page, but when other students saw Semi and his significant other, they could not help but think, “Goals af.”

They were going strong and you could not help but feel a hint of jealousy. You grew up in Shiratorizawa Academy in both junior high and high school and there was not a single person in your year that you were not already previously associated with. The boys were those who were immature or simply someone you did not see pursuing. After seeing Tendou eat four-crayons in fourth-grade or Ohira singing along to the barbie-girl theme song, you could say that your view of many of the boys was incredibly skewed. You knew them for too damn long and there was no way you could date any of them. On the flip-side, the people you spent most of you life with knew your name, face, and outgoing personality more than any other candidate. You won the popular vote with a landslide majority, even during your first-year when three other people were running for the same position. This also came with an obvious disadvantage. Almost everyone knew you and that put yourself in a large spotlight. Your daily life was constantly broadcasted and you had to put on a sunny demeanor even if you were having a bad day. Teachers expected the very best from you and anything less would indicate that you were not prepared to be president, forget being prime minister.

It was unfair of your teachers to take advantage of your position, but you took it with stride and a chin held high. It was your sworn duty and you would not slack on any given responsibility. You would volunteer to help clean a classroom in addition to your duties in student government. To do this and uphold good grades in advanced classes, your social life was nearly obliterated. The only person you kept in daily contact with was him, a new project that a teacher assigned to you almost out of spite.

He was a starting middle-blocker on the volleyball team. That fact in itself made you assume that he was as diligent as Ushijima or his very roommate Shirabu, or really like most of the other members of the male volleyball team. His transcript showed his engagement in advanced classes since junior high. And yet, the teacher aggressively requested that you tutor the young man.

And you learned rather quickly that Kawanishi Taichi was an ass.

It really bothered you that a man with his potential failed to fully utilize it. You had better odds finding Kawanishi asleep in his dorm than in the library with his supposed study group. In advanced, you asked several times for the two of you to meet the group and study there. And more than once, he failed to show up and you simply studied with Shirabu and his not-girlfriend.

After that escapade, you made sure to show-up directly at his door with the reading material, snacks – so he could not complain about being hungry – and enough prayers to Jesus to help you through this trial.

You were sat-up on the edge of his bed, dictating to him which sections of the chapter and the appropriate equations he should memorize for the upcoming exam. Kawanishi was previously sitting next to you, but he opted to lay back with his hands folded behind his head. His roommate, Shirabu, was out (probably studying in the library with you know who.)

You sighed loudly and almost slammed the book shut. “You’re so cute when you’re angry, (F/N).” He commented.

“Flattery won’t help you pass abstract algebra, Kawanishi-kun.”

“I’ve told you to address me by my first name. And hopefully, it’ll get me a date with the most elusive girl on campus.” He slowly drew out.

“And I told you not to.” You sighed again, adding to the innumerable amount, “You were the only one who qualified for college prep classes in your second-year and you’re taking advantage of this by… failing advanced math.” You stated.

“Ouch.”

The pure fact that he shared the same third-year level math class was impressive. You sat in the very front and your attention never strayed from the professor’s lecture and had failed to notice the young-man before. But once you saw Taichi's work ethic up close, you knew he was nearly a lost cause. It was rare for him to study and you only wondered why. The teacher originally told you that Kawanishi had the capacity to be the best in class, only he was barred somehow.

Ugh.

You reiterated the question once more, “Prove that if a and b are nonzero integers for which a | b and b | a, then b = ± a.” You looked over and was not surprised to see that Kawanishi had the audacity to close his eyes! You dropped the book on the ground, startling the boy. “I’m leaving.”

“You have to give me time to think, babe.” You were halfway across the room when he sat-up to write some solution to the problem. Unsure if he was actually doing the question, you went back to look-over his shoulder.

Before you could read to the bottom of the page, he slowly turned his head towards you to say, "Since a | b, there is an integer m with b = ma. Since b | a, there is an integer k with a = kb. Substituting a = kb in the equation b = ma we get b = m(kb), so since b is nonzero we can cancel it to get 1 = mk. Since both m and k are integers, and |1| = |m| · |k|, we must have |m| = 1 and |k| = 1, so either b = a or b = - a.”

You looked back into the book to see that yes, Kawanishi’s answer was correct.

He was giving you his lazy stare, one that even you could not decipher. Kawanishi was waiting on you and you hesitated, completely dumbfounded, “Well… It seems you’re ready for the exam.” You gave a weak excuse and exited from his dorm. He did not fight it and seemed to lie back down as you left.

Kawanishi was an utter conundrum. This was not the first time that he amazed you with his intelligence. You brushed off these previous events as rare, but it seemed to not be the case as time went on. The teacher never indicated he was failing, you only assumed so by the many red-marked on his returned homework assignments. But homework was only a small percentage of the final grade, falling in importance by attendance. Outside of your tutoring sessions, you did not really know Kawanishi in his natural element.

You decided on watching the game between Shiratorizawa and Johzenji High. You spotted other people in the crowd, like the supportive girlfriend of Semi and not-girlfriend of Shirabu, but decided on straying from the rest and sitting elusively alone. Kawanishi was just switching into the game, standing right next to the net. After spending extended time with Tendou in and out of class, you knew the basics to volleyball and his role. It just so happened he shared it with Kawanishi.

He played an offensive and defensive role that competed with the tallest members of team. The tallest person was probably Wakatoshi, but he was middle blocker. After that, Kawanishi seemed to tower over the rest of them – Tendou included. The problem was that Tendou shun so brightly, with his unusual hair and outgoing personality. Everyone was aware of his skill and given nickname, the “Guess Monster.” You could almost call the two middle-blockers opposites. To any outsider, Kawanishi was giving a completely impassive appearance to the enemies on the court. But you knew he was thinking and that the little hamster in his brain was working tenfold. He was capable of blocking the spikes of a certain loudmouthed Johzenji player, who made it necessary to yell at random moments. Kawanishi made it appear as if he was putting little to no effort – probably to keep his cool-looking exterior – but you knew better.

Maybe you judged Kawanishi too quickly?

Shiratorizawa closed both sets in their favor and you made your way down to the court before the crowd could block your way.

“Could I get a picture of the victors to send to the Shiratorizawa page?”

Tendou was eager to nod in agreement before grabbing an underclassmen you recognized as Goshiki Tsutomu and an expressionless Ushijima Wakatoshi. Kawanishi spotted you and looked away, deadpan appearance still displayed on his face.

What the hell was that?

During your private tutoring session, Kawanishi was a man filled with unending charisma and charm. And in this instance, not a full day later, he was ignoring you entirely. Who could possibly explain the paradox that is Kawanishi?

“Why do you want to know so badly, huh?” Tendou supplied your question with not an answer, but another question. You shared an English class with the guess monster and decided that during break, you would ask more about the young middle-blocker.

“You know I tutor him… And I fear that I might have judged him too quickly.”

“He’s an ass.”

“Well, I know that.”

“He doesn’t talk to his teammates much.” He candidly stated, “Kawanishi is very similar to his roommate.”

“Shirabu?” You asked incredulously.

“Yeah, they’re both quiet little shits. They like to sit and observe others around them, only speaking if they were called out. Taichi is quieter than Kenjiro though, the latter is hella salty and has no problems sassing his older ones!”

“Huh.” This description seemed like the opposite one that you were used to. Kawanishi had no problems calling you nicknames and there was never a quiet between the two of you. It seemed like he even took amusement in constantly teasing you.

“Something wrong?”

“Not at all what I expected, that’s all.” You confessed, “He seems pretty lazy.”

“Oh he is!” Tendou interjected, “Don’t get me wrong, Taichi has let a ball hit the ground perfectly in! But he’s smarter than he gives off. We play the same position, but his blocking methods are more experiential. Taichi sticks to read blocking, but when he’s in the zone he guess-blocks like me. And if all else fails, he’ll go for the option he knows he can block.”

“That’s… clever.” You were hesitating in your words and Tendou noticed it, evident from the narrowing of his wide eyes, but he did not comment on it outwardly.

Instead, he replied with, “But it’s obviously not as impressive as my method!”

You laughed lightly and complimented, “Seems like no one can compete with the attention of the guess monster.”

At this point, the teacher entered the room and continued with class. Your thoughts often surrounded the elusive man and you wondered if Kawanishi really did act differently around you than the others, but you were running out of options to ask from. If Tendou’s description was accurate, then there was no way that Wakatoshi could give you more valuable information. Shirabu was Kawanishi’s roommate and closest companion, he must know more than the rest. But surely, he would convey to the middle-blocker your interest and you could not handle Taichi finding out.

You went to the second best.

“How’s my favorite kouhai?” You attempted to coerce the popular second-year into conversation, but she gave you the face that knew what you were up to. It was a widely known fact that she was Shirabu’s best friend, member of a second-year study group that included him, and gossip queen – she had to know something.

“If you need something just say it, (L/N)-san. Better make it quick, I have class soon and I can’t be rude to the only senpai that I like.” You caught her in the hallway, typing away on her phone.

You sighed, “What can you say about Kawanishi?”

“Taichi?” She put her phone back in her bag to look down at nothing in particular, whilst frowning. “He’s a lazy piece of shit who knows better than to act like how he is now. You’re tutoring him, so you’ve probably seen it.”

“Yeah…”

“He’s pretty quiet, but not at all shy. Taichi has a personality that’s rough around the edges and it seems like he has a permanent bitch face on. But he opens up to those he can trust.”

“Oh.”

At that reaction, your kouhai quickly stepped in front of you and stopped walking, blocking your immediate pace. “What do you mean, ‘Oh?’ Do you like him?”

“No, it’s just he’s been acting a certain way around me. I was wondering how much of him I really knew.”

“Like how?”

“Like teasing me, calling me ‘babe’ of all things.” Her eyes widened at the newfound gossip and you could almost feel the internal screaming she was projecting. You were unsure if you should walk-away at the stunned girl or shout to grab her attention.

“How cute.” She simply stated, composing herself in a single second and then was on her way.

That conversation did not help your nerves at all and your next class was shared with the aggravation of your thoughts! You approached life like a simple equation. There were variables here and there, but eventually all would be solved and revealed. Math was your shit and yet Kawanishi defied every prior algorithm of judgement you had unofficially convened in your mind.

Since you were relatively early to class, you took the empty seat next to Kawanishi – which was the very last seat in the back! He strolled in with headphones buried in his ears, showing not a single care. His dark eyes narrowed at your presence, but this time he actually acknowledged you with a casual wave.

“Are we still on for tonight?” He did not dignify you with a response, just a sly lift of his eyebrow that you knew suggested something! But you simply rolled your eyes, happy to see your usual Kawanishi and continued, “For studying. Don’t get anything in that head of yours.”

Woah, take a step back.

Your Kawanishi? Since when did you think of Kawanishi as yours? That thought slipped your mind quickly and almost naturally. That fact alone scared you. The two of you had spent numerous nights studying alone and it was clear that he thought of you as a friend, as per his insistence of using his first name. It seems his determination and utter repetition were finally getting to you. And you were surprisingly okay with that.

This was your hardest class and there were exams every week. The professor handed the last test back and you almost cried at seeing your eighty-nine out of one-hundred! Thank the lord! Amongst the few that took the torture known as abstract algebra, the topic for the last exam was agreeably the hardest and you would not be surprised if you were the curve.

Once the professor returned to his desk, he announced, “Sorry class, there is no curve on the exam grade this week.”

What the fuck?! You had never dropped below a ninety math and it was rare for anyone to be ahead of you. There were a few times that the curve was slightly above you by a point or two, but never a full letter grade.

You looked over to Kawanishi and saw the perfect score that he was failing to hide. His expression was a grim line and you reached over to take the paper off his desk. He did not fight you and allowed you to compare answers.

His work was perfect, his penmanship was sloppy, but the answers were completely legible and circled at the bottom. You even remembered him leaving the classroom earlier than you during the exam. At the time, you figured he was going to take a nap – which he did – and not be bothered by the importance of the exam. But boi, you were wrong.

You felt like an ass.

“Looks like you’ll be tutoring me from now, Taichi-san.” You teased. Kawanishi froze at your sudden playful-tone, one he had perceived before, but never seen used against him. He urged you several times before to use his first name and, of all times, you decided now in the middle of class.

Taichi had observed you through junior high and now. You were smart and made it widely known that you and you alone were the leader. You would inwardly groan at teacher’s directions, but do it anyway because that was simply how you were. He grew in the contrary direction and wanted to know why you were so damn happy leading a bunch of idiots.

The student body was easily swayed and not worth his time to keep a reputation. It was easier to keep an impassive disposition than appeal to those he simply did not care about. And yet, you were just as smart as him and you wanted the favor of those beneath you. Kawanishi wanted to know why you subjected yourself to this arduous task through the years. What could be so good about volunteering time into people who widely did not deserve it?

Kawanishi was willing to let all six-years go to waste. Spend his time merely watching you and never actually saying anything. He could easily grab your attention, but what was the point? Your heart belonged to the student body and you would never dedicate time to just him, another student in a sea of others.

Until his matchmaker of a math teacher forced you to.

Kawanishi silently thanked whatever deity was watching over him. He wanted to push your buttons, see how far he could go before the kitten would show her claws. You were put alongside the rare amount of people he could truly express himself with. And damn, you were pretty entertaining. He loved seeing the determined glint in your eyes after he paid even the slightest bit of attention to your tutoring. Or the way you rolled your eyes in amusement after he gave a rather presumptuous statement.

You were a mature intelligent young-woman, a year his senior, with an honest-heart and an ass to boot.

When you were riled enough, you fought his teasing with your own harsh words. Taichi could literally watch your usually composed demeanor collapse at his words. Your usually kind vernacular would get replaced with punitive and ruthless sayings towards him and it strangely invigorated him to see more. You would heave a sigh and force deep breathes to calm yourself and he loved seeing the dramatic rise and fall of your chest.

Taichi long-accepted his interest in you and was not at all shy at expressing this. But you were just??? So dense??

But now that you were finally teasing back… Kawanishi fought down the strange heat rising to his cheeks and attempted his most casual tone of voice, “You can drop the formal suffix, (F/N).” Damn, that was too low! I sounded like a male pornstar.

You laughed, he was could not pinpoint the exact reason since you were smiling so radiantly at him, “Alright, Taichi-kun.”

He sighed at your teasing and refused to respond to your mischievous statement.

Oh boy had the tables turned.

Neither of you could pay full attention in class since any movement from the other person would catch your immediate notice. The two of you did not have to voice it out loud, but it was obvious that you were both on edge, eager to say something but never actually saying it.

The professor decided on letting the class out early and you grabbed his hand, “Hey. Want to have dinner first before we study?”

Kawanishi mulled over your request, frown slowly tilting to a smile when the classroom emptied. “Can’t get enough time with me?”

“Yeah, whatever.” You joked, grabbing your stuff and walking alongside the male. He was keeping an unusually large distance, but at this point you could almost understand the puzzle that was Taichi.

You were a contender for a spot in the top ranked students in the Academy and it was for obvious reasons. And after observing Taichi throughout the week, his personality seemed clearly defined to you. He was not shy or held-back, but honest. Quiet, since he found no reason to speak to those beneath him. Taichi did not radiate the same intelligence as others, but you could still sense his pride and hidden tenacity.

However, you could not explain why his frank behavior was pointed towards you. You were never a member of the volleyball team and yet he treated you like one of his close friends. Kawanishi was a year your junior and you were the president, so maybe he found the need to place formal respect? But he never exhibited the same regard for other seniors or delegates to student government. You glanced back to the hazel-haired male. He was walking at a leisurely pace, his permanent little scowl displayed to the rest of the world.

You swiped into the cafeteria, grabbed some food, and sat in a booth across Taichi. Conversation was mostly comprised of you talking with his occasional comment. This was definitely new behavior, but maybe not at all. This must be his normal disposition and you were entirely okay with that.

It made you feel special, that he talked differently to you in private.

But the small privacy of the booth did not last long. “Hey, (F/N)-san!” You spotted Semi’s girlfriend, arm-in-arm with her setter. “I just had a quick question about prom.”

You were whisked away with multiple questions of what not to wear and the theme. She ended up taking a seat next to you. You were not at all troubled, it was only part of your duties as student government and you were delighted to share details about the most massive event of the year. Semi scooted into the booth next to Kawanishi. Both boys watched the conversation in silence, giving only a polite greeting to one another.

After giving many thanks, the couple took off with a wave. You and Taichi continued in your dinner and you off-handedly asked, “How do you feel about losing so many senpai’s?”

He frowned and sat-back, “They’re moving onto better things. I trust Shirabu.” You nodded at his explanation and the rest of dinner went by casually. His words were concise and you found his current curt vernacular very similar to Wakatoshi.

The moment the two of you were completely alone, in the comfort of his shared dormed room, Kawanishi did not hesitate to slam the door behind him and flash you a flirtatious smile. “What’s up with you lately, babe?” He walked over to his bed, throwing his backpack on the top. You realized it was not as heavy as yours and spotted his textbooks scattered haphazardly on the floor. You did not comment on it, not this time.

“Why?” You had a raised brow, but wide smile on your face.

“Why do you keep smiling at me, (F/N)?” He questioned, sitting on the edge and leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees.

“Why do you treat me like this, Taichi-kun?” You asked, “I’m not complaining, but I seem to be on a special list in your mind. I just want to know what I did to earn it.”

His gaze shun with understanding and amusement, traveling for you to a spot on the floor, “Maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

Back to the teasing! “Well, you’re definitely smarter than I first thought. So I am sorry I misjudged you for a lazy idiot. You’re just lazy genius, it seems.”

His bit his bottom lip and kept a firm gaze back on you. It was rare to see such an intense stare coming from the boy and you fidgeted in your spot, standing in the middle of the room. “A compliment just to knock me down?” There was no hint of a smile despite his amusing tone, and he continued, “Should I punish you?”

Your smile was wiped clean off your face and you looked at him with wide eyes. There were no words you could respond with to make sense of the conversation, so you simply stated, “Do you think you could handle me?”

Oh my god, why do this sound like the beginning of a porn?! You shrieked in your mind, confidence outwardly radiating but on the inside you were literally screaming.

He gave a light chuckle, smirking away at how easy you were to read. Taichi stood up, leisurely walking in your direction and not showing signs of stopping, “It’s easy to get a kitten purring.” And he continued strolling right past you to his desk. “But first I have to tutor you. Now be a good student and sit-down.”

At this point, you were inwardly heaving at the obvious tension and the fact that his smirk looked so hot. You were always the one who brought the study session back to its true purpose when the two of you deviated. And yet here Kawanishi was, getting you all riled-up just to walk-away from his obviously effective work.

This is bullshit!

You were a whole year older than him and the most powerful student at Shiratorizawa – there was no way this tall-ass sloth was going to one-up you! Taichi, you learned overtime, loved to be in control of a situation. He observed other people from afar and would act according to what he wanted as the outcome. And you refused to be another marionette in his game.

You grabbed his shoulder, whipping him around to sit back down on the bed. Taichi leaned back, eyes wide with surprise. You propped your knees onto the edge, initiating a very intimate very dominate position, and pushed the subject, “I think it’s time you learned your place. You can endlessly tease me when I’m trying to help, but I can’t? You better answer my question here and now.”

“It’s because I have feelings for you.” His eye-contact did not waiver, so Tachi easily perceived your astonished-look despite how well you thought you were hiding it.

You opened your mouth, words not coming out, and slowly leaned closer to the man. At this point, any outsider could observe your pose as straddling his waist. But! This was simply not his way. With you still in a daze, Taichi had no problems switching the positions with him now looming over you.

He grabbed a hand in each of his, placing them above your head in his grasp. “Sorry sweetheart.” Taichi murmured above you, noses gently bumping each other. You leaned upward and closed the distance, lips molding against each other. He tasted of mangos, a fruit you would not have expected of the quiet boy.

You felt the sweep of his lips against yours and opened at the invitation. Taichi previously had a knee on the bed, but now he was fully inclined on top of you, hips to hips and to nose to nose. He moved his left-hand from your shoulder to grasp the back of your head tenderly. He was invading all your senses and it seemed his only goal was to deepen your already intimate contact. Your left hand found itself on his shoulder, gripping tightly as the other hand threaded between his auburn-hair.

You moaned at a particular sensation and Kawanishi leaned back to get a full-look at your flushed face, “Well? I like you too. Keep kissing me, you idiot.” You spurned him on, earning a smile as he pushed you further up his bed to a more comfortable position.

He continued in his dominant pose, not hesitating to place himself over you. The heavy-air was incredibly evident and you knew your eyes were hazed over with lust. You traveled a curious hand from his hip to the bare-skin of his stomach and you swear he basically growled. He was sporting that intense gaze again and you only wondered how you were not aware of his feelings before. Taking away by your thoughts, Taichi returned your favor by placing a warm-hand on your waist and roaming upwards underneath the comfort of your shirt. But he was not stopping.

His hand stopped at the crest of your breast when –

“Oh my god!”

“Leave a sock on the door or something, holy shit.”

You broke apart to see Shirabu and his not-girlfriend in the doorway. She had her hands covering her face, but not her eyes. His poor roommate looked entirely done and not at all surprised. The two of you quickly sat-up, but Kawanishi secured a firm hold on your waist. Shirabu and his study partner did not leave the room, but in fact walked-in further.

Your kouhai was quick to compose herself and started, “Wow, (F/N). You work fast! And you said you didn’t like him, no wonder you were gushing all—”

“Are you leaving?!” You interrupted.

“This is my room.” Shirabu stated, sighing. “But we’re just stopping here to grab books and then to the library to study.” Kawanishi was dead-silent, lips a straight-line, but the hand on you was drawing lazy circles on your skin.

“Don’t hesitate to text me if you need anything, (L/N)-san! Some snacks? A condom?” Shirabu flicked the girl on the forehead before grabbing her and almost dragging her from the room. "You were gushing over me?" Taichi asked, stating the question dangerously close to your ear. "I'm going to kill her." He laughed and extended another hand, both of his arms resting across your waist as nibbled lightly on the shell of your ear. "Now, don't be mean because she was honest." Kawanishi whispered, a tingle traveling up and down your spine and causing you to arch forward into his touch.

“That was hella embarrassing.”

He pulled back, “It’s embarrassing to be with me?”

“No!” You were quick to answer and grab his arm, pulling him back, “Not at all. I just don’t want an audience when I’m being intimate with the guy I like... What if they walked in a little later?”

He raised a brow at your question, smirk splayed on his face yet again and returning to his close-position by your ear, "What do you think we’d be doing?”

“I don’t know!” You covered your face with your hands, corrupt thoughts popping up and you were almost sure Kawanishi could see your thought bubble. He laughed and placed the hands away, returning back to lean his forehead against your's.

“You’re cute.” And he enveloped you back into another kiss.

You were not the sort of couple that would hold-hands in the hallway and Taichi would rarely ever kiss you out in public. But you would not have it any other way. His affectionate side was for you alone and he made sure to affirm his affections the moment you were behind closed doors. You noticed the little things, lingering looks or a smile thrown your way. In the comfort of your privacy, Taichi would not hesitate to have roam his hands on your skin.

Taichi Kawanishi was one-of-a-kind and you thanked whoever was out there for blessing you with such a charming boy. He was still an ass, no doubt, but he was your ass.

You loved him fully and he would not hesitate to do the same.

98 notes · View notes

anna-justice · 4 years ago

Text

Lost or Found - 9

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

9 - Happiness is a Butterfly ...

Hailey leaned against Jay’s truck while she waited for him, once again he was her ride home. The events from the night before replayed in her head and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face when she saw him walking toward her. They hadn’t spoken alone since it happened, they had seen each other in class of course, but they were surrounded by their friends. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting from him, as close as they had gotten she still couldn’t read him. She wasn’t sure anybody could.

The smile on Hailey’s face was priceless as Jay approached her, his stomach churned with guilt, but Adam’s words were ingrained in his brain. He enjoyed the fleeting moment of complete happiness while it lasted, pretending that he wasn’t going to have to end whatever existed between them in a few short moments. As much as he hated it, it wasn’t fair to her. She deserves someone who knew exactly what they wanted and how they were feeling and not wrapped up in all the shit that they were.

“Hey stranger.” She said smirking, Jay took her in. She was leaning against his truck, and for some reason the sight of her pushing herself off of it had him feeling some type of way. Her blonde hair was falling down over her shoulders, which was a rare occurrence, and her black ripped jeans were a perfect fit.

Jay snapped out of his trance, suddenly realizing that she was probably watching his eyes scan her body. “Hey.” He rounded the truck to the drivers side, “Good day?” He asked over the roof.

Hailey used the running board to launch her small frame into the front seat, causing Jay to stifle a laugh. “Yeah, you?”

Jay nodded, “Pretty good.” He revved the engine and pulled out of the parking space. “Adam almost glued his hand to his face during shop.”

Hailey laughed, “I wish I could’ve seen that.”

“Don’t worry, I took pictures,” Jay said, giving her a cheeky grin.

Hailey returned the favor, turning to look out the window. She watched the houses go by and placed her hand on the center console next to where Jay’s was already resting, she kept her eyes trained on the blur of trees. She waited patiently for the moment when he would intertwine their hands, but moved hers back to her lap when she realized it wasn’t coming. Pink flush tinted her cheeks and she didn’t dare look at him now.

Jay grimaced as Hailey pulled her hand away, it took everything in him not to take it out of her lap. He wasn’t quite sure how to go about the whole situation, he cared deeply about her and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. That was the very thing he was trying to avoid. The selfish part of him wanted to just say “screw it” and be with her, life was short, they all knew that now. But all the reasons why he kissed her were also why he shouldn’t have.

“Hailey--”

“Jay don’t.” She said, finally turning to face him. “Don’t explain anything please. I get it.”

Jay swallowed hard, “I’m sorry--”

“Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.” She cut him off again.

Jay considered trying to explain again, but he figured it was a mute point. He wasn’t going to be able to get a word in.

In the passenger seat Hailey’s eyes stung. Out of all the ways that she could have imagined this conversation going, she wasn’t prepared for this one. Hell, it wasn’t even a conversation, but she knew exactly what would’ve been said. Hailey didn’t want a half assed explanation or an apology, it had been a mistake, he had made a mistake, there was nothing that she could do about it. Groveling or talking it out wouldn’t dull the pain in her chest, thankfully she had gotten pretty good at ignoring the feeling all together.

She busied herself on her phone, texting Kim to see if she could come over. She was in some serious need of girl time. As soon as she responded Hailey spoke up. “Can you take me to Kim’s house please?” She never looked over at him, she kept her eyes trained on the road.

Jay nodded and took the next left instead of right. The drive was short, and Hailey already had her seatbelt unbuckled before they even reached the driveway. “Hailey, I’m sorry.” He said as she got out.

“It’s fine, Jay, really. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that she slammed the door.

…

Less than 10 minutes later Jay found himself sitting in Adam’s room. He thought he was going to be spending the afternoon with Hailey, but obviously plans changed. Instead he was sitting on the floor with his U.S. History textbook open in front of him. Homework stopped for no man, or stalker for that matter.

Adam groaned, spinning around to face Jay. “Have you done the pre-calc homework yet?”

“Man, I haven’t even started.” Jay said, cracking a smile.

“Damnit.” Adam grumbles, “I’m never going to finish this, Wilson is a tyrant.”

Jay knew exactly what Adam was talking about, their history teacher, Mrs. Wilson had assigned them three chapters to read plus notes and it had to be done by the next class. Which unfortunately was tomorrow. “I’m halfway through chapter two.” Jay said, holding up his scribbled notebook.

“I’ll give you the answers to half of the pre-cal work if you give me your chapter one notes.” Adam proposed. Jay chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t want your pre-cal work.” Adam glared at him, but Jay handed him the notes from the first chapter anyway.

“I love you.” Adam said as he fake prayed to Jay, who kicked his hands away. “I don’t know how the girls are doing it, AP, I swear Kim is taking twenty-five of them this year.”

Jay nodded in agreement, “I don’t either.”

The two worked in silence for a long time. Finally Jay broke it by sighing dramatically. “I’m done.” Adam cocked an eyebrow, “With the history shit.” He reluctantly pulled out his pre-calc textbook and flipped to the correct page. The assignment sheet said problems 35-63, it was going to be a long night

“So, did you talk to Hailey?” Jay looked between his homework and Adam, math was sounding a lot better than the latter at the moment.

“Yep.” Jay said, avoiding Adam’s gaze. “Translating log functions…” He trailed off, attempting to get Adam off his ass.

It worked for a few minutes, Jay had managed to get a few problems under his belt before Adam spoke up again. “Okay, it’s killing me. What happened?” Adam leaned forward in his chair, smirking slightly.

“Nothing really.” He sighed, chuckling a bit. “She didn’t even let me get a word in.”

“Sheesh, that bad?”

Jay shook his head, “I honestly don’t know, she just said that she understood and I didn’t have to explain.”

Adam cocked an eyebrow, “I don’t know if you are the luckiest son of a bitch in the world or if you are just out of touch with reality.” Jay shrugged. “You sure she’s not pissed?” Adam asked.

“One hundred percent.”

…

“I’m pissed.” Hailey said to Kim as she ran her fingers through her hair. She had told Kim what happened as she paced around the room, Kim sat on her bed clutching a pillow. “I completely understand where he is coming from. I get it, there is so much going on right now, neither of us really needs to be in a relationship right now.” She stopped her back and forth motions. “Just--why did he kiss me just to shut me down?”

Kim shrugged, giving her a kind smile. “I don’t know Hailes.” Kim didn’t know how to comfort her friend, Adam was her first boyfriend and they had jumped right in the deep end, so far it had worked out well for them. She watched Hailey cautiously as she stared into the full length mirror leaning against the wall, she fiddled with her shirt, pulling it away from her stomach. Hailey stuck her leg out in front of her, looking at herself in a different way. Kim sighed, “Hailey, stop.” She said.

Her friend turned to face her, her eyes glassy. Kim jumped up and hugged her, ignoring the fact that Hailey was not a hugger. Hailey pulled away a little while later and wiped under her eye. “I’m sorry.” Kim kept a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me. I just-I just keep thinking about Erin.”

Hailey felt terrible, feeling jealous of a dead girl was not a good feeling. Not only that, but how can someone make you feel self-conscious from the grave? She hated comparing herself to Erin, she just couldn’t help it.

“Hailey you are allowed to be upset about this.” Kim said. “You can understand him and forgive him and still be upset.” Hailey nodded, hating herself for yet another moment of weakness. First with Jay, now with Kim, she was letting her walls down more and more. Telling them about her dad had been a step in the wrong direction, letting people in only got you hurt, today proved that. “You wanna go get ice cream?”

“Yeah.”

…

Jay was pretty sure that his pile of homework was endless, he had finally gotten back to work after he and Adam’s short conversation about Hailey, but he wasn’t getting much done. A familiar ringtone sounded throughout the room and both of their heads shot up. Looks like they were done for the night. Jay grabbed Erin’s phone out of the bag and read the message out loud.

Blocked ID: There’s already been one heart broken today, let’s make it two. It’s time for the heartbreaker to go back to his old ways. Call Kim and end it.

“No. I’m not doing it.” Adam said.

“Adam--”

“No Jay.” He ran his hands through his hair and down his face. “She is my person, she gets hurt either way, I can only protect her from one.”

Jay nodded, he wasn’t sure if he could let go of Hailey if he had to. There had to be a way to save everybody. “We should probably go over there.”

“Let’s go.”

…

Fifteen minutes after Hailey and Kim were headed for Kim’s car. It was parked in the free standing garage behind their house. Kim unclasped the latch on the door and pushed it up, entering keys in hand.

“What are you thinking? Scoops?” Kim asked.

Hailey turned to face her, ready to respond, but there was a loud crack. “Ki--” She tried to scream, but before she could the dark shadow reached her and the baseball bat made contact with her head.

Kim woke up groaning, she didn’t remember how she had gotten where she was, but she knew her head hurt like hell. She pried herself on the floor and scanned the room. She was pretty sure she was in her garage, it was dark so obviously the door was closed and her car was running.

She began to panic, “Hailey? Hailey…” She breathed out, her chest felt heavy and as she stood up she used the wall for balance.

Hailey woke up to the sound of her name, she touched her hand to her forehead, pulling it away to find it red with blood. Kim eventually reached the driver side door and pulled as hard as she could, causing herself to go stumbling backwards. It was locked.

“Kim?” Hailey asked, pushing herself up. Her head was swimming. “What happened?”

Kim fought back tears as she yanked the handle again. “I don’t know, but we have to get out of here.”

It was in that moment that Hailey understood the gravity of the situation. They were trapped with a running car. She thought back to the safety training classes they had in middle school. There was no doubt that they were both suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning, they needed to stay awake.

“Do you-Do you want to try to lift up the door?” Hailey asked, stumbling over her words. Kim nodded and they both got to the garage door as fast as they could. “Ok, 1-2-3.” They both pulled with all their strength, which was fleeting fast.

Kim took a breath, “L-Let’s try a-again.” Hailey positioned herself again and the girls pulled with everything in them. There was no way that door was budging. Kim’s eyes filled again, this was the closest to death that she had ever been and she wasn’t ready for it.

Hailey looked around, trying to find anything to get them out of there. She spotted a tennis racket leaned against the back wall and she rushed toward it. “Kim! We can try and break a window.” There was no response. “Kim?” Hailey panicked when she saw the way Kim had herself braced against the car, her chest heaving.

“Hailey I can’t breathe.” Hailey took that as an opportunity to jam the handle of the rackett into the driver’s side window. It didn’t make a dent, she hit it again and again, but in her current state she wasn’t strong enough. Kim gagged and then proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach onto the floor. Hailey gave up on the rackett and rushed to her side. “Oh shit, Kim.” She knew that wasn’t a good sign. Kim fell to her knees and Hailey went with her, trying to keep her from hitting the floor too hard. “You have to stay awake.” Kim nodded, bracing herself against the floor. She needed help. Her phone.

Hailey pried herself off the floor once again and maneuvered herself to the garage door when she had first gone down. It had to be around there somewhere. She heard a thud behind her and turned to see Kim collapsed on the floor. The fast turn of her head sent her tumbling into the wall and she ricocheted onto the floor. Hailey laid there completely helpless, she was out of strength and out of time.

Adam pulled into Kim’s driveway with Jay in the front and Kevin in the back. He was a nervous wreck and was out of the car before it was completely in park. “Kim!” He shouted. They checked the backdoor, which was the only door her family used, it was locked and no lights were on in the house.

“Hailey?” Jay yelled, neither of them were answering their phone.

Kevin walked towards the garage, he heard a rumbling. “Dude do you think someone’s in there?”

“Hailey!” The voice got Hailey’s attention, causing her to lift her head up off the floor. “Hailey, where are you?” The voice shouted again. Using every ounce of strength she had left, Hailey kicked the garage door and let her head hit the floor again, hoping that it would be enough.

All three boys heard the thud against the door and scrambled to get it open. The sight in front of them was terrifying, they all gasped and sprung into action. Jay was immediately at Hailey’s side, he flipped her over and pressed his hand to the gash on her forehead. “Hailey, stay with me.”

Hailey’s eyes fluttered open, but only for a second. The image of him leaning over her was coming in and out of focus, almost to the point where Hailey thought it was a dream. “Jay?” It was barely audible, but it was music to his ears.

“Yeah Hailes. It’s me, I’m here.” He said, grabbing her hand. “Hailey’s awake!” He called to Adam and Kevin, Kevin nodded before relaying information to the 911 operator. He had called amongst the craziness.

“Kim’s not.” Adam cried out, clutching his girlfriend in his arms. “Man she threw up and she’s not responding.”

Jay grimaced, he was splitting his attention between the two of them. He felt for Adam, but he had to keep Hailey awake. “Did you shake her?”

“Jay, I tried everything!” He yelled back, Jay realized it was a stupid question the moment he asked it, but he didn’t know what to do.

He focused on Hailey again, who’s eyes were threatening to close again. “Hailey, Hailey, you’ve got to stay awake.” He said, gripping her hand harder. “You’re safe, everything is going to be fine, but I need you to stay awake.

Hailey squeezed his hand, showing him that she understood. She focused on taking deep breaths, she felt like she could finally breathe again. The sound of sirens was a welcome assault to her ears, in what felt like no time she was in the back of the ambulance, but in the process she had been ripped away from Jay.

The paramedics were telling her the same thing Jay was, that she had to keep her eyes open, that she had to stay awake, but they weren’t as convincing. And after fighting for what felt like hours, Hailey let herself drift away.

…

A/N: Wow this was a long chapter! First, I’m sorry for writing Adam like a little bitch but I love him and I think he’s funny. Second, I know Hailey is a little softer in this than she is on the show, but they are still in high school and I feel like she would be more emotional and unpredictable at this age. Thanks for reading!

#jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #upstead au #kim burgess #adam ruzek #burzek #burzek au #kevin atwater #erin lindsay #chicago pd #chicago pd au #one chicago

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loveau · 5 years ago

Text

You + Me = ? | Wendy

Genre: highschool!au, fluff

Word Count: 2,989

Request: Hi, there! 😁 May I request a high school!AU scenario with Wendy where the reader needs help with math and she becomes the reader’s tutor, then the reader improves in math and they fall in love and all that fluffy stuff?

Summary: While your math grade seems to be falling, it’s not the only thing that does once a pretty math tutor comes in to help you. You can only hope she’s there to catch you like she’s doing for your grade.

You curse at the dumb equations staring mockingly at you from your paper. Stupid algebra, stupid factoring, stupid polynomials. Nothing was sticking in your brain, and, at this point, it was pretty much fried. You bang your head on the desk and groan into the multiple eraser markings sticking on your cheek.

Yeah, you totally shouldn’t have convinced the counselor to let you take that extra elective instead of the math class. The entire year’s worth of not doing math had been both a blessing... and a curse. You sat in a class of mostly sophomores as the only junior taking that algebra course. It stung your pride to sit there staring at a low mark as they seemed to be passing with ease.

The only other junior in the class was the TA, and she stops by with a concerned look. However, one glance at your half done worksheet (with most of the answers wrong, by the way) she concludes that you’re frustrated and need help.

“Hey,” she calls. At this you put your head up and come face to face with her. “Do you need help with this? I can tutor you after school if you’d like to get help outside of class.”

“Oh my gosh, really, Wendy?! You’re literally an angel!” She smiles at you, only proving further to you that she not only acts like an angel, but she looks very much like one too.

She waves you off dismissively, but the red in her cheeks shows that she appreciates the comment. One look at your paper shows her that you really were in need of the help. No offense, of course, but the factoring you had done so far somehow led you to completely get rid of the variables. While this led to much confusion on her part where to begin, she was amused by your doodles on the page.

“You draw?” You peer down to see what she’s referring to. There’s small little sketches of your favorite characters from some show you were currently watching. A slight flush of embarrassment moves across your cheeks, as if it were a crime to like your shows. However, you just shrug to play it off cool.

“Kind of... I usually do this when I’m bored.” You realize that you’ve just admitted one of the reasons why you are behind in class. Wendy only reassures you with a smile, deciding not to point that out if she caught it at all.

She tries to help you as much as she can before the period’s over. You’re much too distracted by the curve of her bangs over her forehead and wonder how she must have done it. Done what? You know... looking so effortlessly stunning. You’re well aware of how she uses a hair curler in her bangs sometimes. You’ve seen it at lunch a couple times when she’s laughing loudly with her friends, but you could never bring yourself to look away.

About to be caught again, you quickly busy yourself with whatever problem you left off on. Wendy watches you for a couple more moments before deciding that she should start packing up and taking some last minute questions. You’re scribbling down the answers to the next couple of questions and she makes a mental note to check in with you later. In the mean time, she hopes you don’t mistake her number she wrote on the corner of your page for some polynomial without variables.

Luckily you caught it fairly quickly before the school day ended, when you had decided to continue your doodling on a previous sheet. And just like that, you were meeting Wendy after school to go over your homework that you had completed in class. Nerves began building up inside of you. Both at the idea of seeing Wendy again, but also... her relation to your math class reminded you of an upcoming test. As well as your low grade. It wasn’t that bad per se, but it wasn’t exactly ideal. You were bordering from a C+ to a B- and you knew you’d be in for it if your parents saw that as a final grade.

Your leg bounces as you wait by one of the lunch tables, and it distracts you so much that you miss the text from Wendy that she’s on her way and should only be another minute. By the time you’ve formulated your runaway plan and to make sure your FBI agent can’t track you down when you fail your next test, Wendy arrives with a chipper smile and taking a seat right next to you. Immediately her smiles drops at your worried face.

“Hey, are you alright? We don’t have to be meeting up right now if you don’t want to.”

“No! You’re fine.” Her concerned eyes don’t stop trying to figure out what’s eating you until it clicks.

“You’re worried about next week’s test, right?” You nod and Wendy pats your shoulder. However, she doesn’t take her hand away and instead squeezes your shoulder so that you feel the warmth through your shirt. You’re not that surprised to find that warmth has spread all throughout your body as well. “I can totally help you with that! I often see you looking frustrated in class but didn’t want to pester you. I figured today wouldn’t hurt.”

You shake your head and find that you were grateful she stepped up today. You could never with how preoccupied you were with trying to reteach yourself concepts as well as her being almost intimidatingly pretty. If it wasn’t obvious, your crush on her really made you freeze up. You remember developing your crush on her in your sophomore year, when the two of you shared a literature class together. The two of you got to interact some, but not much. What stood out to you was the reenactment of Romeo and Juliet where she played Romeo and you read the part of Juliet. Her character building and voice somehow made you feel as if you were really Juliet, easily swooning by her love confessions. You really began to daydream that they were real... and in modern english.

“If I bomb this next test, then I’m easily set to get a solid C instead of a C+. I have almost an 81 in the class, but just barely.”

Wendy hums and fixes her ponytail to stall while she thinks. Suddenly she brightens up and snaps her fingers. “Have you thought about doing the extra credit? It could definitely bring your grade up to an 85 at least! It can act as a safety net in case you do poorly on the test, but I won’t let that happen!”

“How so?” She takes your hands into hers and looks you earnestly in the eyes.

“Starting today, I will tutor you everyday to make sure you feel prepared and confident for the test. It doesn’t have to be just after school either. We can meet at lunch, during class, before school, or any time we can work it out. I promise you I will be there for you so that you don’t fail.” Your heart beats a little quicker at her promise, but the intensity also adds butterflies to your stomach. You can only nod in response and realize you’ve been holding your breath by the time she turns around to get some papers out. “Here, I keep these on me in case anyone approaches me outside of class for help. These are some of the extra credit sheets that’ll help you. They also pertain to the test so it’s a double whammy.”

She helps you get started on the sheets, telling you they’re honestly easy points to boost your grade. They really are with how much time Wendy spends talking you through the concept and making sure you’re not iffy on a problem. It’s like this the rest of the week. However, you also realize she’s been super affectionate once you get a problem right or giving herself whatever excuse to get as close as possible.

Sometimes her pencil might roll away from her as you work and she allows it to roll far enough so that it hits you. She either brushes her fingers against your hand or arm or she purposely touches her fingers loosely against yours if you happen to pick it up before she does. Some comments or corrections she makes on your paper also come in the form of hearts. It’s hard for you to keep your cool when she is being playfully flirty with you, but it also saddens you that it’ll most likely no longer happen once the week is over and you’ve taken your test.

“Here,” she interrupts during your last session on Friday. The two of you are sitting together at lunch and she decides to write down some problems for you to practice.

“Wendy, this is basic math. I did this in, like, second grade.”

“I just want to warm up your brain. Go ahead!” You look back down at the 2+2 written on the paper. Once you write down a hesitant 4, Wendy adds more simple math problems to your paper. The lunch bell rings signaling that you get to your next class. “Make sure to do the last one! I’ll see you next Monday on test day. Oh! And make sure to text me on the weekend if you have any questions.”

You’re too busy packing up to see what she’s written on your paper, but you assume it was something like 1+1. You figure that she must be doing this to reassure you and give you a slight break since all you’ve been doing is working on factoring for the past couple of days. By the time you get into your history class, a friend of yours points to the paper on the top of your notebook.

“How’s it going with Miss-I’m-too-pretty-to-make-you-function?”

“Shut up, it’s not like I’ll be seeing her after the test. She’s just tutoring me.”

“But you said the touches-”

“I’m overthinking it. It’s fine.” They roll their eyes at your dismissiveness. You’d been trying to swallow down the crush over the past couple of days, but Wendy honestly made it too hard. Her subtle touches and words of encouragement did nothing but make you hopeful. It also didn’t help that her bright smile plagued your mind whenever you went home and you were... looking forward to going to your math class.

“Hey, I think you’re overthinking the part where you think you have no chance.”

“That’s because I don’t.” They tap your paper and say otherwise. You’re unable to question them since they turn away to focus on the teacher beginning the lesson. You try to focus on the material about some revolution somewhere, but you can only focus on running through equations, the quadratic formula, perfect squares, and Wendy in your mind.

She stays on your mind the entire weekend as well, and you’re worried about the material even though you’ve run through it so many times you can practically do it in your sleep. On test day, you’re so focused on your work that you can’t even bring yourself to look at Wendy in fear of all your work together going to waste or seeing her be disappointed. But her quick squeeze of your hand as she passes by while handing out the tests lets you know that she’s rooting for you. She doesn’t mention the last problem she wrote down for you on that Friday. You don’t mention it either because you forgot.

It feels like time flies by so quickly, and you practically run up to the front desk to turn in your test. You’re unsure how to feel about it and wring your hands nervously. Wendy gives you a thumbs up with a determined look while mouthing “You did it. You made it through.” The gleam in her eyes sets your heart fluttering with all the confidence she has in you. It makes you disappointed that soon the two of you would part ways just like you had after the brief interaction during your Romeo and Juliet reading. However, Wendy makes sure to continuously check in with you about the material of the test to see what you thought of it.

The day you get your test back, Wendy looks just as nervous as you. It’s been only two days since the test, and your teacher has graded the test faster than normal. You look at Wendy while your hands are balled up into fists on the top of your desk. She’s biting her lip and you can she her feet are kicking at the floor in anticipation. It looks like she’s running while sitting, and you wish you could do just that. Run. The teacher has her pass the tests back while they begin writing up some commonly missed questions. Before they could, they call for Wendy’s attention right before she reached your row of desks.

“Wendy, could you pass me one of the tests? I can’t find my answer key.” She nods and immediately hands one of the tests over. Once she’s finished passing out the tests you realize whose test is up with the teacher. Ah, how fickle fate seems to be with you. Wendy realizes that she’s passed your test up when she looks over at you and your anxious form trying your best to peer at the front of the paper by the board. She hadn’t seen your score either, which makes her just as anxious as you. From where you were, you couldn’t figure out what red marks meant what on your test.

The rest of the period was spent with you writing down all the right answers on your test just in case you got something wrong and you could figure out why, hopefully with Wendy’s help. Throughout the class, the two of you had been communicating with nervous looks while trying to put each other at ease at the same time. It didn’t work for both of you since you had started biting your nails and she was picking at threads of her sweater. You absolutely hate that the test review spent the entire period. Especially the fact that the teacher asked to see you when the class ended. Dread fills you when you hear the bell ring. Your footsteps seem heavier as you walk up to the front desk.

Wendy wanted to hang back, she really did, but she knew that it’d be better to respect your privacy and head out with the students. She waits for you to come out and you find her tapping her foot to a song in the middle of the hall. The second you spot her you squeal and throw your arms around her.

“Oh my gosh, Wendy!”

“What’d you get? How did you do? Are you okay? I’m so nervous, I didn’t even know it was your test!”

You shake your head and show her the test. You got nearly full marks, some rounding errors or accidentally using the wrong amount of sigfigs cost you a couple points, but not enough to bring it lower than an A.

“I can’t believe you practically saved my grade!” You’re jumping now and she’s still in your arms. It’s not a problem since she’s also jumping along with you with a large smile on her face. You pull away with a frown.

“What’s wrong now? Did your grade not rise enough to where you thought it was?” There’s panic in her voice and you’re quick to deny her question, but a pout remains on your lips.

“I won’t get to hang out with you anymore since I won’t need any more tutoring...” Wendy pauses for a second and looks as if she’s trying to find something in your eyes.

“... Did you see the last problem I gave you on Friday?” You think back on it and return her questioning gaze.

“You gave me basic addition. Are you telling me I need to work on what I learned in elementary school?” She shakes her head quickly and asks if you still have the paper, to which you nod your head since you haven’t cleaned your binder yet. She has you take it out and you’re about to tell her you’re not that bad at math until you see the problem she wrote.

Underneath the 2+2, 4+4, 3+7, and 1+9...

You + Me = ?

You look up at her and she smiles, but it’s wavering. She’s nervous about your reaction, but she’s somewhat relieved. She thought you had seen it and decided to ignore it, thinking she was weird or that you were trying not to be mean by rejecting that.

“What... Wendy, does this mean what I think it does?” Wendy puts on an air of fake confidence and takes a pencil out.

“Well, it’s simple really. You, that’s you, plus me, Wendy, equals...” She trails off and begins to write on the paper. A little drawing of a heart takes place at the end of the equation and you can only look at her in shock. She decides that it’s now or never to explain what it meant. “I was just... too nervous to approach you since I didn’t want to scare you away thinking I was there to bug you about getting help. I thought you were really cute at the beginning of the year, and after I finally got to talk to you I started developing a crush... I really worked the courage up to write that.”

You look back down at the heart and can’t help but smile at her. Wendy smiles hesitantly in confusion.

“You know, since it took me that long to solve such a simple problem... I think you’ll have to continue tutoring me. Why don’t we set up another study date to work on it!”

#elli writes #red velvet #wendy #red velvet imagines #red velvet scenarios #red velvet fluff #wendy imagines #wendy scenarios #wendy fluff #neutral pronouns #fluff #high school au

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authorized-trash · 5 years ago

Text

The Passage of Identity and Time

2116 Words

Analogince

Virgil escapes to a better family, one that’s much more accepting.

Warnings: Anxiety disorder, depression, homophobia, transphobia, dysphoria, cussing, panic attacks, heavy crying, misgendering, use of deadname

Virgil didn’t start out his life as Virgil.

He started it out as Amber.

Born in small town USA in the year 1998, a baby named Amber was born. Her parents were ecstatic. The gender of the child did not matter to them, only that they had one. They had been trying for a child for months before the news of Amber arrived.

The baby was small and wrinkly, as most are. Her father called her a raisin, earning a swat on the arm from the mother.

Amber grew to a healthy height and weight for a two-year-old. She could talk and walk by now and was quite the rowdy child. Her hair was growing in curly and that odd almost-black brown her mother was known for. Her eyes were a deep brown, with little specks of amber around the iris. Long lashes surrounded the round eyes, making her quite the lovely child.

(“Oh, she’ll grow up to be quite the lovely child.”)

Amber continued to grow, and by the time she turned seven, she had shot up to four foot seven, a good head taller than all of her peers. She had cut her hair by now, a cute bob all the teachers loved. Her young idea of fashion was mud stained shorts and tank-tops.

By the time Amber hit ten, she could tell something was wrong. She didn’t understand why she suddenly couldn’t play football with the boys, and why she couldn’t just go to grandma’s Easter party in pants and a shirt.

(“That’s not a very feminine look Amber, you are a young lady, and you’re old enough now to act like it.”)

For now she could ignore the growing feeling of discomfort in her skin. Amber could pretend nothing was wrong. And when the other girls commented on her odd nature, she dubbed herself a tomboy.

That’s right, a tomboy. The totally normal option, and the only correct one.

The only socially correct one.

… But then puberty hit.

Amber hated how her thirteen-year-old body changed so quickly. She was five foot eight and had been dubbed ‘giraffe’ by the nasty boys in school. Her height didn’t bother her, however. No, it was the hips that thickened, and the chest. She hated it, hated that she hated it. She didn’t think she was bad looking, per say, just… She didn’t look herself. She didn’t see a future in the person she saw in the mirror.

With the self-loathing came the depression, and with the depression came the anxiety. There was so much of it. By the time she turned fourteen, Amber couldn’t do anything more than stare at her wall for hours, too anxious to move, anxious because she wasn’t getting done, anxious for what this could mean for her. Anxious for the grades, but too anxious to get up and do something about them.

Around this time is when she started looking at her family at an outside point of few. Picket fence, white, Christian people. Extremely conservative, and right winged. She started finding flaws in their logic, started resenting every word that came out of their mouth.

Amber was a sheltered child, and only received a device with access to social media at fifteen. There, she found an escape, making friends.

She discovered the term ‘Transgender’ online.

Everything clicked in that moment. The more research the more tears. Amber outright sobbed as she read, this was it. This had to be. She tested it out.

(“He found what he was looking for, and he knew in his heart it was the right choice.”)

She loved the way the pronouns sounded, beaming, she ran downstairs to her- his parents. His, him, he. God, did that sound so nice.

Amber ran downstairs to his parents, but stopped. They were talking again. About the people who pretended to be a different gender. It hit Amber like a ton of bricks.

They were talking about people like him.

He walked right back into his room and cried.

The anxiety worsened to nearly unbearable amounts.

Amber continued to research and found that he wanted to save up for a binder. He began a savings account, saving every penny he got his hands on.

It took ages, but he finally, finally, convinced his mother to cut his hair.

(“You look like a guy now Amber.”)

God did that comment fill him with joy.

(“You look like a butch.”)

Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing, lesbians are lit af.

(“Do you really like it cut that short?”)

No shit.

Amber had never felt more confident, but there was one thing missing.

A proper name.

He scoured every male baby name he could find. Scrolled through every writer’s website. Hell, he even looked at the girls names to find one.

It wasn’t until he was studying old literature when he found it.

Virgil.

He loved the way it sounded. Virgil. Such a nice name, genuinely extremely aesthetic in his opinion.

Amber no longer fit, it didn’t feel right. It never felt right. Virgil.

Virgil.

He was now a junior in highschool, owned a binder, had short hair, wore baggier clothes, and went by Virgil openly at school. By now the hate had long since died down, and he was decently happy. Still ridiculously and ludicrously anxious all the tie, but that was something to look into at a later date.

Right now, however, he had to get away from his home.

He loved his parents, but they were just so… hateful towards any kind of minorities. POC, LGBT, and anyone who wasn’t a white Christian were seen as sinful in their eyes. Virgil was tired of being forced to attend a church about a religion he didn’t know if he believed. He was tired of listening to their bullshit.

So when the time came that he went to college, he moved into a apartment He had gotten scholarships due to grades he had been careful to keep up and didn’t have to rely on his parents money.

His roommate, an agender person by the name of Logan Thomasson, was one of the nicest people he had ever met. Supportive too. Logan and him hit it off. Logan was a bit hesitant at first, but eventually told Virgil that xe used xe/xyr. Virgil smiled and told them he’d accept xyr no matter what.

Virgil’s parents didn’t notice his efforts to distance himself at first. Not until the second semester of his second year, when they had heard nothing from him. By now Virgil had long since started testosterone, and his voice had dropped significantly. It was almost time for summer break, and Virgil was making plans to stay at Logan’s for the break again, when he got the call.

“Amber, honey, are you there?” His mother called into her phone with that sickeningly sweet voice she used when she wanted to sound nice. Virgil gulped audibly, staring across the room at Logan, who was sitting with him to keep his nerves down.

“Yes mother?”

“Are you sick dear? What’s wrong?”

“No mom, I’m not sick.”

“Then why is your voice so deep, Amber? You know I hate it when you lie.”

Virgil bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, feeling the tears fall. He couldn’t delay the inevitable. Sure, maybe it was a shitty thing to say to his mother over the phone and not in person, but he wouldn’t be able to stand her face.

“I’m not.. I’m not Amber, mother.”

“… What? Sweetheart of course you’re Amber, what has gotten into you?” By now Logan had gotten and moved across the room, and xe was sitting on xyr knees in front of Virgil’s hand, putting a hand on his knee.

“No mom, I go by- I go by Virgil now. I’ve been taking testosterone treatment for a year and a half now.”

“Amber.”

“No- Mom it’s not-“ Virgil choked up, “It’s not Amber, I’m sorry, I’m-“

“Amber I’m coming to pick you up. That college isn’t good for you. I knew we shouldn’t have sent you to a damn liberal school,” his mother could be heard shuffling around, presumably covering the phone with her hand, “Adam, your daughter believes she’s a boy, a boy Adam.”

Virgil started sobbing now, sliding off his seat. Logan was quick to scoop him up in xyr arms, holding him tightly. Virgil rested his forehead on xyr shoulder, looking at the phone in his trembling hand.

“Mama please,” he mumbled wetly, watching the screen fill with tears. The world becoming a blur. His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t take this, he was going to have an anxiety attack.

“No, Amber, your father and I will be there shortly. Goodbye.”

The phone beeped, and Virgil threw it.

He cumbled in on himself, crying hysterically. He wanted that to go better, damnit. Maybe a little acceptance. Anything. God, it hurt so bad.

Logan shifted him around so that xe could pet his hair, mumbling xyr stupid math equations in his ear the way xe did, in that stupidly endearing way that Virgil loved so much.

His parents, true to their word, arrived that night.

They didn’t bother to knock. Virgil didn’t even know how they knew where he lived.

Logan was the one to see them when they arrived, Virgil had locked himself in his room. Logan had suggested it actually, god Virgil loved xem so much.

“I do not believe you are supposed to be here.”

“Amber lives here, yes? Where is she, we’re leaving. You would not believe how this place has contorted her mind.”

“Ma’am, you need to leave. Both you and your husband.”

“Now who do you think you ar-“

“I’ve already contacted security. The officer is a good friend of mine, they will see you out,” Logan smiled over the couple’s heads, at the officer who was standing in the door.

The couple spun around, spotting the officer. By now Virgil had poked his head around the door. He might as well watch his parents leave, this may very well be the last time he says them this close, or not through a picture.

This was a mistake on his part however, because when his mother flipped around to confront Logan again, she spotted him.

“Amber! Sweetheart! You have to come with us! I’m not letting my baby go to Hell!”

Virgil crept out from behind the door, looking levelly at his mother, “No mum, I’m not leaving. Now I believe Logan asked you to leave. This is his-“

“Our, Virgil, how many times to I have to tell you it’s our apar-“

“This is Logan’s home as much as mine, and xe wants you to leave.”

By now the security officer had already gotten Virgil’s dad out the door, and had walked up behind the mother.

“Ma’am, these two have asked you to leave multi-“

“Xe? XE?! Amber! These are demons! You are possessed, please baby, come with us- please!”

“Ma’am! Either you leave or I arrest you, that is a direct order! Out, now!” The officer shouted, furious. They escorted the woman to the door, Virgil’s mother throwing a fit all the while.

“You’re all evil in the eyes of god! You will repent one day! You will!!”

And with that the door shut.

Virgil gave a small, defeated smile, looking at Logan. Logan breathed heavily out of xyr mouth, before walking up to the dark haired young male. Xe gave him a small kiss at the top of his head, ruffling his hair.

“I’m so, so proud of you.” Xe said softly. Virgil snorted softly.

“You think they’ll still let me go to Thanksgiving?” He joked.

Logan laughed.

A week past and Virgil had done nothing but delete the nonstop flow of messages from his old friends and family. He had no reason to talk to them. Not anymore.

He and Logan had started dating since then, and both were extremely happy. Hell, they had even been debating the pros and cons of inviting the cute security guard, who was named Roman, into their relationship. The guard had been flirting nonstop with the two of them, and honestly, they were smitten by the non-binary officer.

A few months later found them all happily watching movies on the couch with Logan’s ball python Dee.

A year later found them all happily married, with Roman’s brother Remus as best man.

Months after that found them adopting an adorable baby named Patton. The child was a spring loaded ball of red curls and freckles.

Virgil didn’t start out life as Virgil.

But he sure as hell didn’t end it as Amber.

A little fic a did as a sort of vent

I wrote all in an hour and a half, and I honestly don’t think I have it in me to go back through and fix it if there’s mistakes.

#logan #patton #virgil #roman #analogince #analogical #agender logan #nonbinary roman #trans male virgil #misgendering #transphobia #homophobia #anxiety #depression #deadname use #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #deceit mention #remus mention

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enragedbees · 5 years ago

Text

Wretched/Deluded

Pairing: Prinxiety, side Logicality

Summary: As Virgil helps Logan get ready for a date, he reminisces back to when they first met in high school.

Warnings: Swearing (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Words: 3030

Song rec: Factories by Autoheart (This is less of a theme for this chapter, but more of the theme I’m using for the fic in its entirety!)

A huge thanks to the lovely @fall-sunflowers for being my beta reader!!

Taglist: @xionbean @thenewlarislynn @emo-disaster @darkstrange-son @starwarsdestroyedme

I love reading your comments! Please let me know what you think! :)

Read the companion to this story!

——————————————-

Chapter 1: To Put Together Me

~ -222 days from The Beginning ~

Virgil heard the front door of his apartment slam shut.

He switched the tab on his laptop from Tumblr to LinkedIn and got up from the couch, leaving the screen open and facing out as if to prove that he’d been doing what he was supposed to. His roommate walked through the kitchen, grinning.

“Hey.” Virgil walked across the room and leaned against the wall. “You look happy.”

“I am.” Logan opened the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle. “I have a date tonight.”

Virgil grinned. “You finally asked that guy you met?”

“‘Finally’ seems rather melodramatic. I waited a perfectly reasonable amount of time before asking him out.” Logan cracked his water bottle open. “I’ve only known him for two weeks.”

“And for two weeks you haven’t stopped talking about him.”

Logan rolled his eyes. He took a drink and set the bottle down. “How goes the job hunt?”

Virgil grimaced and sat back down on the couch. “I can’t find anything worthwhile.”

“Maybe I can ask Patton tonight if he knows of anyone who’s hiring.” Logan offered. “He knows the city well.”

Virgil scoffed. “You can’t ask that on a first date. He’ll think that’s the only reason you took him out.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Okay, I won’t.”

Virgil grabbed his laptop. “When are you picking him up?”

Logan checked his watch. “About two and a half hours.”

“And what are you wearing?”

Logan looked down at what he had on. “I was just going to wear this.”

Virgil stopped. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. What’s wrong with it?”

Virgil shook his head, eyes wide. “You can’t wear your daytime clothes on a date! Especially not when he’s already seen you in them that day. Do you want to look like you don’t care about going out with him?”

“Well, obviously, not,” muttered Logan.

Virgil sighed loudly and stood up. ”Come on, I’ll find you something.” He clasped Logan on the shoulder. “I guess some things never change.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “It’s not like I’m helpless without you.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” Virgil lightly pushed against Logan into his room and started to rifle through Logan’s closet.

~ -3110 days from The Beginning ~

Virgil Terek had no friends.

And he was okay with that. He enjoyed being alone.

It’s not like he wasn’t likable. He wasn’t an outcast. People were nice to him and he was polite back.

Virgil just didn’t make an effort to put himself near other people. If he auditioned for the school musical, he’d be immediately adopted by the theater kids. Same with choir, or art, or any kind of sport, all things he could excel at. He simply didn’t want to.

Virgil didn’t want to join a group where he’d always be on the outside. He might have had a couple friends, but he was too far behind to ever be a part of some tight-knit collection of people who had been in that club together since childhood. Virgil would sit with them at lunch, hang out with them on the weekends, go to their birthday and graduation parties. But they wouldn’t ask to work with him on group projects in class. They wouldn’t pick him for their team in gym. Every time they made plans, it would be, “Oh, and you can come too, if you want, Virgil.”

And it was far too dangerous to have a single best friend, instead of a group of people. Virgil would never depend so much on one person. He’d just get hurt when they left for someone else.

Virgil was happy where he was. At lunch he sat in silence with the other kind-of-loners like him and did homework. At home, he read or wrote or listened to music or watched television or dicked around on his phone. Virgil was content.

The lack of friends eliminated distractions from what really mattered to Virgil. He could focus on what he wanted to do, and never had to worry about not having enough free time to do it.

Virgil Terek entered the ninth grade with complete indifference. By that point, he had learned his place in the world. As long as he maintained his grades and took all his required courses and interacted with his parents every once in awhile, nobody bothered him. He was free.

And Virgil had never had a problem maintaining his grades. Being categorized as a “gifted student” sometime in elementary school, he never struggled with completing an assignment or needed to study for tests. Virgil was placed in the advanced classes throughout elementary and middle school and had no problem breezing through them without trying or even enjoying it.

He took Geometry CP freshman year because it was the logical next step. He had no idea how much different an advanced high school course was from an advanced middle school course. When Virgil didn’t immediately understand a concept, he didn’t ask for help. When he only halfway understood the quadratic formula or didn’t memorize the order of the postulates and theorems, he didn’t study, because he had never had to before, and everything worked out on its own. Virgil started getting the worst test grades he had ever received in his life.

A few weeks into the course, he was barely pulling a D+. His parents and teacher kept getting on his case, Virgil didn’t know how to fix his grades, and he felt his freedom slipping away.

Other students complained near him about doing poorly, but their worst was always a grade Virgil would kill to have again. And the most annoying part was the new student in his class who never complained, who never was unprepared or confused, who seemed to have already mastered every topic in the course yet participated and accomplished classwork with vigor like it was the most interesting thing going on in his life.

Over the course of a few weeks, Virgil saw his irrational hatred of the kid intensify. Every time he got a poor test grade or failed assignment, he grew angrier at the kid who had no problems with the material. Everything about him annoyed Virgil. He was a freshman who had just moved into town, and he was still better than Virgil. He was very tall and very thin, which should have made him awkward, but he wasn’t. He dressed every day like he was going to work, tie and all. He spoke so professionally, almost robotically. He was stuck up and arrogant and took every chance he could to correct someone. But he had an A+ in Geometry.

Virgil, slumped at his desk in class while the teacher passed back their most recent tests, let these thoughts stew. He begrudgingly took the paper his teacher handed back to him, upside down and folded, with a stern but encouraging glance in Virgil’s direction. Virgil grimaced and turned it over.

A big red D- sat leeringly at the top of the page. Virgil sighed. He looked to the front of the room at the new kid, who was flipping through the test, observing it with noticeable interest, looking over the unmarked pages before setting it back on the desk with an obvious A+ at the top.

Virgil rolled his eyes to himself. None of his closest acquaintances were in the same math class, and he didn’t feel comfortable asking the sophomores and juniors in the period for help. This kid who didn’t know Virgil and therefore, didn’t have a reason to turn him away, might have been Virgil’s only chance to get his life back to normal.

He groaned inwardly. He wished he had another option.

When the period ended, Virgil walked up to the kid, who was packing up his backpack.

“Hey, how’d you do on the test?” Virgil asked. He hated small talk, but he was about to ask a complete stranger for help, and Virgil felt that he at least owed it to the kid.

“I got one-hundred percent,” answered the boy. Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Cool. I didn’t do so well.” Virgil slung his backpack over his shoulder and they walked out of the classroom. “I’m Virgil, by the way.”

The kid furrowed his brow. “Like the poet? What kind of a name is that?”

Virgil glared at him. He decided didn’t need straight A’s that badly. “Alright, fuck off.” He started to walk away.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” The other boy at least looked sheepish. “I don’t have much of a filter or an understanding of social etiquette. I tend to speak whatever I’m thinking without realizing the effects of what I say.”

Jesus, this kid. Virgil was sure he had just recited that from a textbook he picked up somewhere. He sighed. “Okay. I don’t think that makes it better, though.”

The kid stuck his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Virgil. My name is Logan Schlenke.”

Virgil gingerly shook his hand and they continued down the hallway. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I’m kind of doing really badly in Geo and I can’t help but notice that you know what you’re doing.” He sighed. “Is there any way you can help me when I don’t understand what’s going on?”

“You want me to tutor you?” asked Logan. “Sure, I can do that.”

“It’s not tutoring, I just want a little help with the content.”

“That would be called tutoring,” Logan offered.

“No, I don’t need –” He stopped himself and gritted his teeth. “Fine, whatever, call it tutoring,” Virgil muttered. He bit his lip. “But you’ll do it?”

Logan stopped. He looked at Virgil thoughtfully. “I’ll help you under one condition.”

“Seriously?” Virgil groaned. “What is it?”

“It’s become evident to me that in order to have a productive and enjoyable high school career, one must be on good terms with their classmates,” Logan said. “I’ll help you understand Geometry if you help me to understand how to interact with people.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’m your best choice to learn people skills, man. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of keep to myself and don’t talk to anybody else.”

“That’s not true,” Logan commented. “I’ve seen you talking with lots of people and everyone likes you. Besides, I don’t want or need actual friends. I just need to get along with the other students in the school.”

Damn. This kid. Virgil was already regretting the decision. There had to be an easier way to pass Geo.

He let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

Logan stuck his hand out again, and Virgil shook it. “It’s a deal,” Logan smiled.

The two exchanged contact information, and Logan walked into his next class, leaving Virgil shaking his head in the hallway.

Over the next few days, Logan went to Virgil’s house after school and worked with him on the content they learned in class.

“Your main problem seems to be that you never learned how to study,” Logan noted. “If you practice teaching yourself the concepts you don’t understand in class, soon you won’t need someone to reteach it to you.”

Virgil scoffed. “Why should I teach myself something when there’s a teacher getting paid to do it?”

“Teachers or other professionals are useful to help explain a concept to students. Not all teaching styles work on everyone, so sometimes it’s necessary to find out how you learn best and teach it to yourself,” Logan explained, maintaining a remarkable amount of patience. “You should also pay attention in class more often.”

Virgil tried to help Logan interact in social situations, but he had no idea how to teach him, or if any of what he knew would work for Logan. Logan tried his best, though, putting the same effort into studying people skills that he did in his schoolwork.

“So, maybe, when you want to say something, just…don’t, for a bit. Until you think it over and decide it’s an acceptable thing to say,” Virgil offered.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I’ve tried that?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Look, dude, I’m not really sure how it works for you, anyway. But if you want people to like you, you can’t say things that make you look like an asshole. Just…calibrate, I guess.”

Logan’s eyebrow raised, but he said nothing. He jotted something down in a notebook.

“And you have to lose the tie.”

“Why?” asked Logan, genuinely confused.

“Nobody wears ties to school unless they have to dress up. Don’t you own, like, a single t-shirt or something?”

Horror flashed across Logan’s face. “Why would I wear a t-shirt to school?”

“So you look like a normal human teenager and not a child trying to run for president.”

Logan pursed his lips but wrote in his notebook again.

Virgil took a breath. “Tomorrow, try wearing jeans, a nice t-shirt, and an unzipped hoodie. And brush your bangs forward a bit, your hair doesn’t have to all be going in the same direction.”

Logan looked at Virgil like he had told Logan to wear nothing but a bathrobe to school, but he wrote it all down.

And the next day, Logan walked up to Virgil at his locker, wearing skinny jeans with a brown belt, a long-sleeve gray and white raglan, and a green hoodie. He had his hair swept to the side, falling gently over his forehead, just high enough so it didn’t impede his vision.

“Whoa.” Virgil grinned at Logan.

Logan smiled sheepishly back, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You look great, man,” said Virgil. And he really meant it. He could already feel a difference in the energy surrounding Logan. He could feel the other students no longer seeing him as an outlier or a stranger, but as someone who could be anyone else in the school. He’s one of us, they seemed to think out loud.

And, for the first time, Virgil realized that Logan was actually a really attractive guy. He just hadn’t known how to express himself. For some reason, Logan had tried to confine himself to a professional, more mature style. But in this outfit, he looked comfortable, relaxed, more laid-back and easygoing. Though he was almost definitely nervous of switching up his style so suddenly, Virgil could see in the way he carried himself that Logan felt more like himself in this outfit, not trying to prove to everyone that he’s someone he’s not.

They began walking down the hallway. “The most important thing about wearing this today is being confident in it. It won’t have as much of an impact if you doubt yourself.” Virgil said. “I know it’s a big change, but you’ve got to believe that you do look good.”

“You told me I did,” Logan said. “I have no reason to distrust you.”

As they walked, a few kids in the opposite direction smiled or nodded hello to Logan. He smiled back

“How do you feel?’ Virgil asked.

“I feel good.” Logan nodded. “I had no idea how much something as small as what I wore could have an effect on how I’m perceived.”

“You’re already starting to seem like a real person to the others,” Virgil smiled. “Keep this up and I’d bet anything you could get any girl in the school.”

Logan laughed out loud. “We’ll see. How did you do on the pop quiz in Geometry yesterday?”

“I got a B,” Virgil grinned.

“Well, that’s certainly an improvement, but I know you can do more. Are you free again this afternoon?”

Virgil sighed. God forbid he be proud of less than his best. “Yeah, my place again?”

Logan nodded and turned into his first period classroom for the day.

As the days passed, Virgil slowly grew more confident in his abilities to learn and understand things himself. He noticed that he started asking questions in class when he was lost, and he noticed seeing Logan smirk with pride every time.

Logan slowly grew more accustomed to social interaction. His robotic syntax and word choice didn’t change, but with the change in style, it began to seem quirky and intelligent rather than just arrogant. And though he still, with nothing but good and helpful intentions, corrected anyone who was wrong about anything, Virgil helped him to do it without making the other person feel stupid. Logan made friends, built connections, and started making a place for himself in the school.

Virgil soon became confident in his ability to study and learn things on his own, which was a huge source of pride for him. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to properly study. As one last benchmark, Logan went an entire chapter without tutoring or explaining anything to Virgil.

At the end of the chapter, his teacher handed him his test, upside down, with a pleased smile. Virgil turned over the paper to see a 96% A crowning the top.

Virgil ran up to Logan at the end of the class as they walked out together. “I can’t believe I did it!”

Logan grinned. “Congratulations.”

“Man, I could not have done this without you. Thank you so much for everything,” said Virgil.

“You’re welcome.”

Virgil pulled his phone out. “Do you want to come over today? I have to text my mom but I know she’ll be fine with it.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Is there another class you’re having trouble with?”

“What?” Virgil looked up at him. “No, no. Not for studying. Just to hang out.”

Logan raised his eyebrows.

“Like, for fun?” Virgil continued.

Logan’s face lit up. “Okay. Sure.”

He turned and walked away, beaming. As Virgil watched him go, a realization hit him. He had been trying for so long to get his life back to normal, back to being alone and untethered. But now, he’d never be able go back to that life.

“Goddamn,” he muttered.

Virgil Terek had one friend.

He walked away, shaking his head and laughing at himself, but unable to keep a smile off his face.

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