#what am i talking about i hate being a university teacher right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherrylovelycherry · 1 month ago

Note

Hey cherry, I just came to order an Éclair au chocolat, and maybe (pls pls pls pls pls) an Tarte aux fraises. Specifically something like strict teacher x soft teacher trope. With Ratio because I love him too.

- 🐇 anon

.note. heyy, that's a good idea, I know what to do, thanks for ordering 🐇 anon! ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

𓂅new order. "éclair au chocolat and a tarte aux fraises."

Rumors and denials

pairing. Dr ratio x gn!reader cw/genre. fluff, angst, friends to noting , rejected before declaring. synopsis. Your students and staff started rumors about the two of you. That was not a good idea. full menu

You looked at a blank dot on the director's desk, begging your eyes not to get teary.

Ratio nodded. "I assure you that this situation won't happen again,"

His voice was stoic, giving away nothing of what he really felt.

During one of Veritas' periods without a class, he came across you in the breakroom. With a passive scoff, he made his way over and placed down a coffee for you. He was not kind to many of his other co-workers, but it was difficult to rain on your lovely presence.

"Here," Veritas grumbled as he placed down the latte, moving to take a seat across from you. "I made it since I am quite certain that no one else would." He seemed to stare you up and down for a brief moment, but you weren't sure why.

Your face was worthy of a question mark. Carefully, you moved aside, settling in the seat. "Oh, how attentive on your part, thank you," you gently let go, as you grabbed the latte.

By the time you moved and he sat down, he managed to see in full that on the table you were sitting on there was not only a coffee, there were like four different ones. All intact, it seems.

So, clearly, Ratio's words were not the most accurate. Ratio's eyes widened, before he huffed as he leaned back against his chair, arms crossing over his chest "Oh?" He raised a brow at you as you took a sip of the latte, before continuing.

"And here, I thought they would have all been already picked up by now… I suppose there are kind staff that roam this university, then."

"Mhm, I guess that's right," you added, calmly as you took a sip like him to the latte.

He repressed letting out a sigh.

"So, how is your classroom doing, then, if you're not out being given gifts by your darling students," he continued, but it was not a full question, rather a rhetorical one.

Even a blind man could see how your students loved you. Not that he was jealous, of course not. You let out a slight laugh at his words. You weren't really trying to start the conversation, because he sometimes had the face of little friends. So today you were surprised that he's talking to you this way and even taking the trouble to prepare a latte for you.

"Is it a sign of jealousy, Mr. Ratio?" You said in an attempt to joke lightly.

He almost choked on his saliva, his body flinching at your words. He was not jealous. He was not envious of your way of teaching, nor how you managed to win the hearts of your students.

He was not envious of that, ever.

As much as his mind denied, his heart beat slightly faster for some reason, so he quickly covered it up by scoffing. "Jealous? Me?" He said incredulously, acting as if this was a funny joke you just told him.

"Please, spare me."

You let out a slight laugh. But what a funny reaction. "Whatever you say, Mr. Ratio,"

Ratio's face flushed slightly at your teasing, but was quickly covered up by a cough. He was not blushing. Nope. It was simply a reaction due to the heat of his drink, and he was not embarrassed at you calling him out.

In fact, in his mind only, he totally hated the way your words for him rolled out of your tongue.

Not in a good way. At all.

He took a sip to buy time, eyes locked on you.

"How are you doing in your classes?" You asked him.

Now that he had particularly started talking to you, you wouldn't miss the opportunity to make a friendship with him. Or at least you'd try.

"They are…" Ratio trailed off, looking to the side for a moment in thought before looking back at you, "…well, exasperating. Not a single brain in those empty skulls." He continued with a sigh. "And here I was, expecting at least a handful of competent people. But it seems, even that was an overestimation of my part."

He leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, but he found some of his gaze lingering on you as he did so.

You carried a finger to one of your lips, putting on a thoughtful pose before you spoke again.

"I've heard from my students that you're very hard on them," you said, always with the characteristic softness in your tone. The difference that now sounded somewhat worried.

Hard? Him? Of course, he could be called that, but coming from one of the nicest professors in the academy, it was a bit surprising.

"Of course I am. How else would they learn properly if I am not hard on them? Even you must understand that to be true,"

He spoke matter of factly. He did not tolerate idiocy, much less that of a student. The students that he taught either accepted his teachings and gained knowledge, or they simply…failed.

"Mhm," you let go, as an understanding of his words.

You didn't agree with his way of teaching, but you wouldn't say you hated it either.

You were going to say something else, but the sound of your phone caught your attention. You had set an alarm to know what time your rest was over.

He was about to say something again when your alarm went off. He raised an eyebrow and waited to see what you would do.

When your hand moved up to check the time, his eyes moved, unintentionally, to your face.

He was, for the first time, looking at you closely and taking in your features. Again.

"Rest time over?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer, and it also seemed that he was slightly saddened that the conversation was apparently going to end soon.

"Ah, yes," you answered, with a slight disappointment in your voice.

The two of you had been talking for 15 minutes.

Surprisingly, more time than you had expected to spend in his presence.

You quickly turned off the alarm and stood up as you took the latte in your hand.

You looked at him, not entirely sure what to say.

"Thank you for the coffee," you said sheepishly, offering a smile.

His heart skipped a beat when he heard you thanking him, for once in his life, he felt a sense of satisfaction within himself for making a coffee.

"Oh, of course," he responded, trying hard to keep his face impassive.

He didn't want you to pick up on the fact that your smile made him feel a bit happy, and he didn't know how to deal with it either.

"Well, see you, luck with your students," you said, firing you with one hand and leaving the teacher room for your classroom.

And there you left, leaving behind a perplexed teacher.

He had a habit of not letting his emotions overtake him, he never allowed them to. But there you were, somehow managing to make him feel…strange while being your usual pleasant self.

[…]

The class had come to an end. Many of the students quickly left, but a few stayed behind to ask the teacher some questions, which he answered in his usual manner.

Once the last student was gone, he got up from his seat and began to gather up the papers that were laying on his desk.

His mind had managed to focus on the papers, leaving behind the previous interaction he had.

That was, until, the classroom door swung open and he looked up. For some reason, he had expected you to be behind there.

Instead, he saw a young woman, he believed she was a college student who was taking one of his classes this year.

"Professor Ratio," she said, as she approached his desk.

He was mildly annoyed to say the least, he wanted to finish up and leave.

"What are you still here for," he asked, placing the papers back down and looked up at her sternly.

The female student looked slightly nervous, he was a strict professor and she was aware of that.

"Well, I wanted to…" she started, but seemed to hesitate.

She took another step towards his desk, as Ratio leaned back in his chair, wondering what she could possibly need from him.

"Go on," he said, raising an eyebrow as he placed his fingers over his nose.

"I do not have all day. State what you need from me and be quick."

Woah, it had been some time since the classes were initially finished.

He spent more than 30 minutes explaining to his student what she didn't understand.

And at all times, he didn't know how to recognize why he felt like that was taking a long time away from him.

Once he finished saving everything, he set out to leave the classroom, closing the door behind him.

He hesitated on his feet, wanting to pass by the door where you were classing.

His mind and his heart were at war.

He didn't want to admit it, but he found himself feeling strange around you that day. He found himself feeling something when you smiled.

He didn't understand what was going on, and quite frankly, he didn't like it that much.

His mind told him to go on with his way, so he did, not allowing his feet to take a single step in your direction.

It had been two days since that talk he had with you.

The day was coming to an end, and Ratio found himself walking in the hallway to the break room, but he found himself stopping when he saw the door to the room you were in to teach.

He couldn't help but stand outside, hearing your voice from the inside. From time to time, he could hear the small laughs from the students.

It was irritating him.

As if it were a reflection, you turned your head in the direction of the door, seeing Ratio through the small glass in the door.

Your eyebrows raised as you saw him standing on the other side, and Ratio's eyes widened, and he cursed himself for standing there in such a manner.

He quickly composed himself, but it was too late, you had already noticed him, and the eyes of a couple of your students were on him now as well.

He saw how you said something to your students, before you approached the desk next to the board and grabbed something.

You came over and opened the door, extending a folder.

"It's good that you passed by, Mr. Ratio, a teacher said that you forgot this in the teachers' room. ," you said, once you went out the door and closed it behind you so that your students wouldn't be gossipful.

"Oh," he said, looking at the folder, slightly surprised. He took it, although he didn't completely remember having forgotten it anywhere.

He also tried not to pay attention to how close you were standing to him, and he tried not to take notice of the light scent of your perfume.

"I see," he spoke, clearing his throat, "Thank you," he added.

You responded with a cheerful smile that made his heart skip a beat, but he didn't show it, keeping an neutral expression.

"Of course," you said. But then you gave a small and short laugh, "Although I would say that it surprises me that you, of the most organized, forgot something," you joked.

He felt a small sense of embarrassment when you said that. It was true that he was organized, and he never forgot where he placed something. He could count the times on one hand the times where that has happened.

He found it quite strange, again, that you didn't seem to be intimidated by him like the other teachers.

Well, of course, you were the only one who smiled at him everytime you saw him.

Although well, you smile at everyone.

"One forgets things from time to time," he said.

"Oh, absolutely," you added as you brought a hand to your waist, "I understand, it happens to me a lot of times, too," you said with a slight laugh.

He was quite impressed at how you found a way to keep a conversation going every time.

"How is your class going?" He asked you.

It was strange how he was having the desire to keep talking, and of his free will with you.

That made you go back to reality.

"Oh, my class," you said, as if you had forgotten because you were talking to him.

"It's going well, thank you for asking," you said, somewhat quickly, before taking a quick look back, looking at your students.

That to your surprise, instead of talking to each other, they seemed more attentive in your interaction with Ratio.

"It was good to see you, Mr. Ratio, but I have to continue with my class," you said, turning your eyes to his face.

"Ah, I understand, yes," He didn't want to admit it, but he got slightly disappointed when you said that.

His mind was telling him that it was better this way, and he quickly agreed, as he cleared his throat as said in an indifferent tone,

"Good to know your class is going well," he paused for a bit, before he added, "and thanks again for this," he added, raising the folder he was holding.

"I hope you have a good class," he said, even if he would rather keep talking to you.

You smiled at him in response before re-entering your classroom and closing the door behind you again.

He stood there, for a few seconds, as he placed the folder below his arm.

For the umpteenth time today, his mind and his heart were at odds with each other.

One half of him was telling him to go on his way and continue with the day as normal, the other half, was telling him to go back to the classroom so he could-

He did not want to finish that thought.

He shook his head gently, as if that would make the thought disappear from his mind, and he started walking again.

[…]

You entered the teachers' room, accompanied by another teacher.

You were talking happily with that teacher, who was just going to the teachers' room to leave the uncorrected works of his students.

You, for your part, were just going to rest for a while, or well, talk to your coworkers and have a coffee, until your next class shift.

The other teacher greeted you before turning to take a seat to correct their students' works.

As you walked in, you began chatting with some of the teacher who were there.

One of them was a woman. She was your friend for several years, so both of you got along quite well.

"So, how are your students," she asked, as she filled the cup of coffee, with the warm liquid steaming lightly.

"They're doing good," you said, and then you smiled, "well, except for one, but he tries to do well," you said, as you received the cup from her.

You didn't notice a familiar pair of eyes looking at you from across the room, from the couch.

Ratio's eyes were fixed on you, as you chatted with some of your coworkers and laughed at a small comment that one of the teachers said, which sounded funny.

He saw you in the most concealed way that existed.

He was strange to see you smile, he felt strange. The other teachers continued to ask you questions.

One of them asked you about how was the last exhibition that you organized at the local museum, another one, asked you about a drawing that you had sent to a contest.

You responded cheerfully and happily at every question or comment.

Ratio found himself being completely captivated as he saw you smile, laugh and chat with everybody, and it was strange, really.

He never paid attention to people, but he found himself focusing on you and only on you.

Until, he was forced to continue reviewing some of his students' works.

Yes, he had concentrated for a long time on that.

That's why when you approached him and sat next to him, he didn't even notice.

He found himself immersed in reviewing one of his students' works, not having heard you as you approached him.

Not until he heard a slight chuckle on his side, which made him slightly startled. He looked up to see you sitting, right next to him.

He felt a slight pang of his heart when he looked into your eyes, but he hoped it didn't show on his face.

"Hey, Mr. Ratio," you said, trying not to laugh, "did I startle you?" you asked, as you took a sip from your coffee.

"Absolutely not," he said, straightening his back again.

"What are you doing here, may I ask?" He inquired, even though he knew you were there to rest and chat, but he just couldn't help but ask why you sat next to him.

"Well," you said, as you took another sip of coffee, "obviously I was going to sit down and rest, and to chat, you know," you explained, although it wasn't as if he didn't know.

"I didn't want to disturb you, of course, but the rest of the couches are already occupied," you said as you tried to give an explanation why you sat right next to him.

He should have told you that it irritated him. He should told you that he did not want you to sit right next to him. He should have told you to go sit somewhere else.

But he didn't.

"Well, then, I suppose there was no other choice," he said, slightly moving to give you just a tiny little more space.

You nodded, while you sipped your coffee that you had in both hands.

Then you looked forward for a while, until you looked back at him.

"I saw you looking in our direction," you said, giving him a soft elbow in his arm.

"What," he asked, as he moved his gaze from some of the papers he was holding, to you, as you slightly pushed him.

His heart slightly dropped, had you noticed him watching you? All the time?

You didn't leave him any more time to answer, because you spoke first.

"Yes," you said smiling. "So, Mrs. Amelie?" You added, in a somewhat funny tone and in a somewhat low voice.

His heart skipped a beat at your words, and for a slight moment, he felt a little panic, before he composed himself to speak again.

He was extremely relieved that you didn't have noticed him watching you for a long time.

"What are you talking about," he asked, raising an eyebrow, acting casual, or well, that's what he tried.

"Oh come on," you said, as you slightly pushed him once again with your elbow, "you know what I am talking about," you continued, with a slight smile.

This situation, in any other case, would have annoyed him.

The fact that you were so cheerful and you would come and poke him with your elbow everytime you spoke would have annoyed him very much.

But for some reason, right now, it didn’t.

"You totally have something for Mrs. Amelie," you said. He gave a scoff, and rolled his eyes.

He did not had anything for Mrs. Amelie.

Sure, she was the other math teacher, an excellent one, one who didn't have any idiots in her class, but that was the only quality of her.

"Of course I don't, don't be ridiculous," he said, in a somewhat exasperated tone, as he looked back at the papers.

You let out one more soft laugh, as you sighed before you finished drinking your coffee and placing it on the small table in front of the couch.

You didn't like it very much that he told you 'Don't be ridiculous', but you knew that Ratio could express himself like this sometimes. Maybe you shouldn't bother him too much.

"Okay, if you say so," you said. Then you put your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your chin on your hand while you look at your phone, completely entertained.

Ratio felt a little bit of relief when you left the topic aside.

He was absolutely sure he had no interest in Mrs. Amelie.

Sure, she had great qualifications, and she was the 'only one' of his co-workers who never angered him, and they had a certain similar way of thinking when it came to education, but he didn't feel anything when he was next to her.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt that you seemed to be distracted using your phone.

He glanced at you, in a subtle yet inquisitive way. You were completely oblivious to his gaze, as you had your eyes fixated on the screen of your phone.

You were completely entertained on whatever you were looking at there.

Ratio thought that it was a good moment to return to his work, it was good to be able to concentrate now.

But the moment he tried to return to his papers, you looked back at him, your eyes slightly moving from the phone, catching his gaze.

"Yes?" You asked, a little confused, but you still had that soft smile on your face like always. His eyes widened ever so slightly when you looked back at him.

Right, right, you had probably caught him staring again.

"What time is it?" That's the first thing he came up with. It was almost lunchtime, if we were being really specific.

You looked at your phone, before seeing him again.

"Lunch time," you said bluntly, before you smiled softly, "do you want to eat together?" You asked, completely innocently.

His mind went blank for a moment, he was completely unprepared when you asked that.

It's not that he didn't want to eat with you, of course he did, but his mind had already convinced him that it wasn't possible.

He was tempted to immediately say "No," but of course he couldn't say that to you.

"Oh, well, sure," he answered, in a somewhat calm tone.

Until the feeling of paper in his hands made him remember.

"Uhm, I was actually thinking about eating here, I have to finish reviewing this," he said, raising up the papers he had in his hands.

The papers he had in his hands were a test for a different student.

He actually had to finish that, and actually had to eat something, as he was also hungry from having spent almost three hours reviewing papers.

But this time it wasn't an absolute obligation, it was optional.

He looked at your face again, seeing the soft smile of yours, and he might have changed his mind.

But before he can say anything, you interrupted him.

"Oh, I understand absolutely, no problem," you said, as you got up from the couch calmly.

The disappointment was almost obvious on his face when you said those words.

He, at that moment, wished he had something more compelling to say, something better, but he had nothing.

He was both incredibly disappointed and glad that you understood, it was a weird feeling inside him, a strange feeling of disappointment that you accepted his excuse, that you were going to leave.

He watched as you stood up from the couch calmly.

"Thank you," he said.

[…]

You came very carefully through the door of the teacher's room, holding a tray with food with your hands.

You were not surprised to see the empty room, as most professors were also eating in the respective university cafeteria.

Even being careful, you headed to the big table, where Ratio was there.

You smiled for yourself when you saw it with a frown, he looked focused. Sitting there, reviewing the papers of the students.

His eyes were fixed on the papers and he was somewhat concentrated.

He was not thinking about anything in particular. He was only focused on the papers.

Until, you, entering through the door of the room, made him lose his concentration for a second.

His eyes moving to your figure, with that tray in your hands.

For a moment, he didn't know how to react, but he quickly regained his composure.

"You came back?" He said, as he slowly lowered the paper he had in his hand.

"Who would have guessed," you said as you smiled at him.

"I told you I was going to eat with you," you said, as you moved carefully to the table.

He stared at how you walked towards him, your body moving carefully, until you arrived at your destination.

He could easily understand that you didn't want to drop the tray.

His eyes moved, from your body to the tray with the food.

You placed it on the table without making much noise, as your eyes looked back to his face.

"I brought you lunch," you said with a soft smile.

A somewhat strange feeling of happiness appeared in his chest.

He felt that he was staring at you for too long, so he just looked at the tray of food that was in front of him, instead of looking like an imbecile.

That you had come back to eat lunch with him.

He tried to shake that feeling from his head.

He placed the papers on the table, one by one, one on top of the other, before giving you his full attention.

"Oh? How kind of you," he said, his voice, despite it's usual cold and somewhat rude tone, having a hint of genuineness.

He looked at the meal you had placed in front of him.

It was not bad, you had brought him a sandwich, some fruits, a piece of cake and water.

You smiled at his words and how he looked at the food.

"I didn't know what you liked," you said, before you sat down in the chair next to him.

"No, no, this is fine," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice, and he hoped that you didn't notice.

"I like almost anything, I'm not picky," he reassured, as he picked up a slice of the sandwich with his fingers.

False.

He was certainly demanding with his food.

He lied to you for good reason.

You smiled as you heard him say he wasn't picky.

You knew that was very false, at least you had heard his rants of how he was usually not satisfied with the food in the cafeteria, or the rest of the things he said about his taste.

You saw him take a bite of the sandwich, and you smiled again, seeing him eat the food you had brought him.

Then you took your phone out of your coat pocket and began searching for… something, in it. He was grateful that you hadn't noticed that he had lied to you.

He thought that he had a good reason to lie, not to sound like a snob, even more if you had brought him this lunch that you had bothered to bring.

Noticing that you were fiddling with your phone, he looked at you.

He couldn't help but wonder what you were doing, but he obviously did not want to be rude and pry.

So he just sat there, slowly eating, watching you glance at your phone.

You of course had noticed his gaze out of the corner of your eye.

"I was telling Mrs. Lia that she didn't need to keep a seat next to her," you said, as you finished writing on the phone, in a soft voice.

The way you noticed his behavior and expressions and how you responded to him, it seemed like if you were treating him like your students.

He felt somewhat nervous after you spoke.

Of course he had noticed the way your body moved in the chair when you spoke to him, he had noticed the slight change in your voice, the way you had caught him looking at you, and had responded to him like you had done that morning.

He let out a small scoff to try to hide that he was embarrassed.

"You didn't have to, really," he replied in a somewhat casual way, while he finished eating the sandwich you had brought.

He took a sip of his water, to wash off the taste of the sandwich in his mouth.

On your side, you had also grabbed an extra fruit bowl that you placed on the tray, for yourself.

"Eh, it was no problem," you replied, with the slight smile that you always seemed to have.

Your face was pleasant to look at, it was not difficult to see that your soft features combined with each other wonderfully.

You were, however, blissfully unaware of the fact that you had a somewhat oblivious effect on him. And also, blissfully unaware that he was staring at your face every time you were too distracted looking at the screen of your phone to notice, or any other time.

You put your phone down to concentrate fully on your food.

"So, how's it going with grading…?" you asked, trying to start a conversation with him. He suddenly almost choked on his water after hearing your question.

He put the glass down on the table before he was able to control himself.

Once he was finished coughing, he spoke.

"Very… good," he said, in a somewhat forced way.

He had not expected you to initiate a conversation with him, he was not really prepared to answer that question.

He looked down at the table, trying to avoid the intense gaze of your eyes that looked at him with a slightly smile.

You saw him almost choke when you asked him the question.

You laughed a little when he was coughing, but you also had a hint of concern on your face, so you leaned forward.

"Careful with the water, Mr. Ratio," you said, before moving back when you saw that he was okay.

"Surely they're going well?" You dared to ask, considering his reaction.

It was quite evident that he was not used to being the target of this type of concern.

When you leaned forward, a slight feeling of surprise appeared on his face, he was not used to being cared for, it was always the other way around.

Once after you finish clearing your throat, I let out a slight sigh.

"No, it was horrible for everyone," he said.

It was Friday, and Ratio's class was taking a test.

He sat in his chair, waiting for his students to finish.

As far as he remembered, there were about fifteen minutes left before the period was over.

The silence was quite deafening from the class, he could not hear anything other than slight murmurs and whispers, pens writing, and the occasional cough.

He could see the students moving with concentration at their desks, probably trying to finish the test within those fifteen minutes.

A few of students had already finished.

He was watching quietly how the students were struggling to answer the remaining questions with the time they had left.

A few seemed desperate, some seemed confident, and of course, there were some of them who had already given up.

He watched his students quietly and carefully.

His gaze moved carefully from one of the students to another, watching them write, some quickly, and others, slowly.

It was clear that some of them had already finished, and they just looked around, bored, waiting for the test time to end.

He saw how some students were desperately trying to answer the remaining ones, they only had around 10 minutes left.

"Five minutes left," he announced loudly, in a cold, yet firm voice.

The sound of the pens writing on the sheets increased.

In his mind he could not help but cross a thought that was not expected at all. You.

What would you be doing with your students now? It was an intrusive thought.

After all, he shouldn't be thinking about you at a time like that.

And yet, he was.

His mind couldn't help thinking about you, even if he was busy watching over his students.

He wondered what you would be doing at that moment, how you would be handling the test situation.

He imagined that you would be sitting at your desk, quietly, watching your students finish the test.

Or if you would be walking around the classroom, just watching and… giving your students a smile of encouragement, if they needed it.

He could imagine that very clearly.

He let out a silent sigh, when he finally came back from his thoughts.

Time ended, giving notice to their students, who were gradually approaching his desk to leave the tests there. Students approached him one by one to give him their tests.

He took the test, and looked at them one by one.

Some looked decent enough, and some didn't, but of course, he just gave them his usual cold look, and placed the test on the desk.

Some of the students tried to talk to him, he of course, just answered in monosyllables.

He could not help but remember again.

Now he wondered what you would be doing, after that your students had finished the test.

He really should not be thinking about you at that time.

"Yeah, of all the teachers, with them he gets along better,"

"Do you think they have anything?"

"Aw man, I hope so,"

"What? you're crazy? They shouldn't be with a bitter like him,"

"Do you talk about the professor Ratio and the professor Y/n?"

"Yep, on how they would make the perfect…"

What.

What was it that he was listening to?

How it was possible for their own students to talk about those things.

He could not believe what he was listening.

The words that one of the students said made him stay still, just listening to their whispered conversation.

He should have said something, but he just stayed there, trying to process what he had heard.

Of course, what else could he have expected? They were talking about two adults like if they were discussing a romance novel.

And those two adults were, coincidentally, him and you.

There it was again, the thought of… you.

He knew that his students sometimes joked about nonsense, but he thought that what they were saying was on another level.

He sat down in his chair after putting down the papers the last students had given him.

There he was, sitting there, with what his students had just said.

He knew very well that he shouldn't give it too much importance. After all, it was just the stupidity of their students.

…

And yet, he could not help but think about it.

The thoughts started to manifest in his brain, and he could not do anything to expel them from there.

[…]

You left the room in a hurry, you were leaving late and all to help one of your colleagues take several piles of exams to the teacher's room.

Almost as a regrettable thing, the sound of rain echoed in the almost empty corridors of the university.

You frowned a little, begging for umbrellas in the place where they always had.

But by the time you arrived and had in your hand one, some students, two to be exact, they couldn't grab an umbrella.

Those two students were in a hurry because of the rain. They had gone to retrieve their umbrella, but to their bad luck, there was not one.

Before they could complain and despair about the situation, you saw them and kindly stopped them.

"You need an umbrella, don't you?"

They looked at you, nodding softly with sadness, and perhaps a little shame.

You smiled slightly.

"Oh don't worry about it," you said, as you handed them the umbrella. "You can use mine,"

The students looked at you with surprise, but also with gratitude.

They were surprised by the gesture you had had.

"But… Professor Y/n, aren't you going to use the umbrella?"

One of them asked you, still looking puzzled and confused.

You smiled again.

"Don't worry, I'll be just fine," you replied, in a reassuring tone.

Although, for a brief moment, one of the students made a comment that caught your attention.

"I guess you are not gonna use the umbrella, because you know…"

What?

You looked at the student puzzled, for that comment.

That comment caught you off guard.

"How come?" you asked, feeling even more perplexed.

The student looked at you hesitantly, as if they weren't sure how to respond, and then they spoke.

"Well… we have heard that… well…"

They stumbled over their words, clearly feeling a bit awkward.

What?

What had they heard this time? you asked yourself. You watched the students hesitate before speaking.

There was something that seemed very strange about their behavior.

It was as if they were reluctant to tell you something, and even that they were quite embarrassed by it.

You tried to hide that you were nervous, and gave them a reassuring smile.

"What have you heard, exactly?" you asked, trying not to sound too worried.

The students exchanged a quick glance before speaking.

"Well… some of us have heard that you and Professor Ratio…"

One of them spoke.

"That the two of you…"

The other continued.

"That you and him…"

They trailed off, clearly hesitant to speak the words fully.

You could feel your heart beating faster, wondering if they were going to say what you fear they would.

But, in this case, you wouldn't let them continue to talk about that issue.

"I already get a sense of what you're trying to tell me, guys, don't believe everything you hear. Come on, go home now," you said, in a soft but almost scolding tone.

The students looked at you, a little surprised by your response.

It was almost as if they had expected a different reaction from you, but instead, you were brushing off the rumors that they had heard.

They looked at you with puzzled expressions, but before they could say anything further, you spoke again.

"Go on, go home," you said, a bit sternly. "Or you'll get soaked in the rain."

The students then nodded reluctantly. "Yes, okay, sorry, Professor Y/n," they said, before they began to leave.

It was clear that they were a bit bummed that they had ruined their opportunity to gossip with you.

But, you were grateful for that.

As you watched them go, you couldn't help but shake your head. The students were notorious for their gossiping, and it seemed that this time, their target had been you and Ratio.

You wondered what kind of rumors they had heard this time. You shook your head slightly again, trying to push those thoughts away for now.

Now there was another thing that you had to worry about: the rain.

You glanced around, looking for a place where you could shelter.

As you looked around, you realized that there was not a single person left in the halls, probably everyone had already left due to the sudden rain.

You were in an isolated part of the university, and the rain was pouring down hard, almost as if it was taunting you. With a sigh, you started walking towards your home.

You just hadn't brought your car, because in the morning it was a sunny and pleasant day.

But, as you walked, you saw a familiar figure walking in the distance.

Wait. Were you seeing correctly? Was it… Ratio?

You squinted your eyes, trying to make sure it was him.

And sure enough, as the figure moved closer, you could see the distinct outline of Ratio's frame.

What was he still doing here at this hour? you thought. You watched as Ratio walked, seemingly deep in thought.

You were mentally grateful to see that he had an umbrella in his hands.

Anyway, you'd wait for him to get to the entrance of the building to ask him. Because he didn't even seem to have noticed you were there.

Which was fake, he obviously had seen you, he was just doing the one he hadn't seen you.

Ratio had felt your presence, even though he wasn't close to you. He knew that you were there, but he tried to keep his expression neutral, as if he hadn't seen you, as if he was engrossed in his own thoughts.

But, of course, that was just an act, he was quite aware of your being there.

As he continued to walk, he could feel your gaze on him.

He wondered why you were still there at that time, and why you hadn't brought an umbrella with you.

"Oh, Mr. Ratio," You once said that he came near you.

He heard you call out to him, and he tried to look nonchalant, as if he had just now noticed you were there.

He turned in your direction and looked at you with his usual stern expression.

"Oh, Professor Y/n," he said in his usual tone. "What are you still doing here? It's almost night, and it's pouring outside."

"I was just about to ask you the same question." You responded.

Ratio let out a low sigh, before looking away.

"I was just taking care of some paperwork that I'm behind on," he said.

He was lying, and you both knew it.

The truth was that he had stayed behind thinking about… well, you.

You knew that his answer was not entirely true.

He was obviously lying to you, and you wondered why he would do that.

But, Ratio was not going to confess that he had stayed because he had not been able to stop thinking about you.

There was a moment of awkward silence, before he spoke again.

"You don't have an umbrella, I suppose," he said, looking out at the rain.

"Ah…" you let go, as you scratched your cheek. "I gave it to some students who didn't have one," you said, somewhat embarrassed to have done that instead of thinking about yourself.

Ratio let out another low sigh, shaking his head slightly.

He wasn't surprised that you had given your umbrella to some students, it was in your usual nature to be kind and helpful to others.

But, he also felt annoyed that you had left yourself defenseless against the pouring rain.

"You always put others first before yourself," he said, almost in a scolding tone.

You managed to let out a soft laugh.

You were going to ask him to share his umbrella, but he interrupted you.

"Don't even ask me to share my umbrella," he said, knowing what you were going to say.

Instantly your face decayed a little bit.

"But it's pouring outside," you retorted.

Ratio gave you a look, as if to say: don't think you were not going to receive a scolding.

"Just because you were foolish enough not to bring an umbrella for yourself, doesn't mean that I should share mine with you," he said his expression stern.

You let out a small sigh, knowing that he was right.

It was your own fault for not bringing an umbrella, and you shouldn't expect him to share his.

"Well, you have a point," you said, surrendering.

Ratio was pleased to hear you admit that he was right.

He knew that he was being a little tough on you, but he couldn't help it. He just didn't like seeing you in uncomfortable or annoying situations.

You stopped looking in his direction, to see how the rain soaked the ground.

Well, if he wouldn't let you share his umbrella, you'd stay a while longer here to wait for the rain to calm down a little.

After all, you weren't in a hurry. Ratio watched you look at the rain, and he knew what you were thinking.

He was not going to say it, but he didn't like that idea.

"You're going to stay here?" he asked you.

You looked at him and gave him a soft nod, as if to say: "yes."

Ratio let out another frustrated sigh.

He couldn't believe that you would rather stay in the cold and wet than go home.

"You realize that waiting here won't do any good, right?" he said, trying to make you see the absurdity of it all.

But hey, what other option did you have?

...

"Just come here," he grumbled, gesturing to you to get under his umbrella.

You were taken aback by Ratio's unexpected order.

He was actually offering to let you share his umbrella?

You looked at him, not sure if you had heard correctly, but Ratio's expression was a clear indication that he had said what you thought he had said.

Slowly, you took a few steps towards him, moving under the umbrella he was holding. He held the umbrella over you, making sure you were completely covered from the rain.

Ratio could feel the heat coming from your body now that you were close to him.

It was strange, having you so close to him. He wasn't used to being so physically close to another person, and having someone else occupying his personal space was something that usually bothered him.

But, for some reason, having you so close didn't bother him as much as he expected.

However, one common thought grabs both of you.

'Wouldn't this generate more rumors?'

Oh, but there was no one on campus to see you anymore.

Okay, you don't really know how it happened, but it happened.

After that afternoon almost night, you ended up going home with him almost every day.

It was strange if you started thinking about it a lot, but it started to be comforting. It had been days since that rainy day.

You had found a routine in which you and Ratio would go home together after their classes had ended.

The first few days, it was a little uncomfortable, given the natural stiffness of Ratio, but over time you had both gotten used to it.

You were walking next to him, or even in his car, with a comfortable silence filled the air.

It was a little strange to think about it, but you got used to have Ratio by her side every day.

You were beginning to appreciate him, perhaps even too much.

~Maybe too much to consider him just one more coworker.~

As you walked or rode in the car in comfortable silence, you couldn't help but steal glances at Ratio.

You had grown used to constantly being around him, so you had come to appreciate his quirks.

For example, the way he walked, as if he was constantly trying to maintain proper etiquette.

Or the way he always held his chin slightly higher than normal.

Or the way his hair always seemed to be so well-groomed.

Wait.

...

Why were you even noticing those details?

Don't be weird.

"Well guys, 15 minutes off, remember to stay silent," you said, as you sat at your desk, watching your students talk to each other.

The students acknowledged your words and began to chat amiably.

It was during these 15 minutes that you usually did some paperwork, or simply looked out the window, waiting for the break to end and resume the classes.

But, today you felt different.

Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ratio cross the door frame that separated your classroom from his.

He looked at you for a brief moment, as if waiting for you to notice.

You got up from your desk for a moment, taking advantage of the fact that your students were at their break.

"Yes, Mr. Ratio? Does something happen?" You asked with your typical softness in your tone.

Ratio stopped in front of the doorway, looking at you with a passive expression.

He cleared his throat softly before speaking.

"The principal is waiting for you in his office. He says he needs help on some of your students' documents."

That caught your attention quickly, if it was that, you'd definitely have to go now.

"Ah…but," you said, looking back, where your class was, talking to each other in a low voice.

Ratio observed the way you turned your back and saw your class, noticing the slight concern on your face.

"Don't worry," he intervened. "I can supervise the rest of your class for a few minutes," he said, his demeanor as serious as always.

Your eyes widened a little bit.

The idea of having Ratio in charge of your class was…strange, to say the least.

But it was better to leave them unsupervised.

You nodded, like thanking him, before you spoke out loud to your students. "Guys, listen to Professor Ratio, I'm coming back in a moment,"

The students let out small murmurs of acknowledgment, looking at where Ratio was standing.

They were a little surprised by the situation too, it was the first time that they were going to hear Ratio's class.

You let out a tiny chuckle, before walking to the door where Ratio was.

"Well, I'll be back in a few," you gently said, as you walked past Ratio, and he also moved to the side to allow you to pass.

"Take your time," he said softly before you left the classroom.

Ratio watched you go, closing the door once you were outside.

He stood in front of the class for a few moments, looking around at the students.

They all stared back at him with expressions of curiosity and a little bit of concern.

He was not exactly one of the most "beloved" teachers on campus for his attitude, and it was not surprising that his students feared him a little.

"You may continue your conversation," Ratio said stoically, taking a seat in your desk.

The students listened to his words and nodded before resuming their conversation.

However, they continued to watch him out of the corner of their eyes, trying not to annoy him.

Ratio let out a subtle sigh, before he took a look at the documents you had left scattered on your desk.

He moved a few papers, and his eyes landed on some student grades.

Oh… You were quite generous with those grades, he thought.

The walk was quite short, but you managed to think a little bit about why the principal of the university had asked for your presence.

After a few minutes, you finally reached the principal's office and knocked on the door.

A moment, his tone of voice was soft?

[…]

When you came back to your classroom, you let out a sigh, feeling more relaxed at last. you felt like you spent hours reading the same document over and over again.

But what you expected to hear; whispers and mild laughter, was the opposite once you took a step inside the classroom.

Pure silence.

Your students looked tense and when you noticed, the blackboard had physics theory.

You were speechless.

Of course, you knew that your students were a little afraid of Ratio and would do pretty much anything he asked, but you didn't expect that.

He look somewhat exasperated sitting at your desk, watching your students struggle to understand and solve basic physics exercises.

How was it possible that in less than a few minutes Ratio was lecturing physics?

"Ah, Mr. Ratio," You said, approaching him.

Ratio looked up from the papers in his hands as he heard you speak.

"Ah, you're back," he said.

"How did things with the principal go?" He added on.

You stopped by the desk, looking at him for a moment before looking at your students.

You found them trying to concentrate on his physics theory.

"How did this even happened?" You asked looking back at Ratio.

The students in the class were carefully watching the conversation between you and him, still somewhat nervous that his strict demeanor would pop out again at any moment.

However, they were surprised to see how casually you and Ratio talked.

Ratio noticed your surprise at the sight of the class focused on his Physics lesson.

"Well, I had two options," Ratio said. "One, stand there looking at them, or two, give them a Physics class."

"And it seems obvious that I chose the second one."

He didn't take his eyes off you, observing your expression as you looked at the students and back at him.

You felt somewhat worried about the tension caused in your students, but, this is a good anecdote.

You sighed, while you're smiling. You'd rather take it with a joke or calm before you get upset.

He got up from your desk, before he went to the door, where you too went.

"Thank you for taking care of them," you said, putting a hand on his shoulder somewhat confident but soft.

Before you go back to your desk and tell your students that they no longer needed to try to make sure by solving the blackboard thing.

Ratio felt a small shudder as soon as you put your hand on his shoulder. He didn't expect that simple gesture, but he didn't dislike it either.

He nodded in response to your thanks, before he went back to the teachers room.

He took a seat at his desk and went back to his paperwork.

But his mind wasn't completely focused on the papers in front of him.

He couldn't help but recall the feeling of your hand on his shoulder.

It was… strange.

Your students had asked you if you got along with Ratio, among other questions, since you always talked like this with them.

It was a shameful thing for you, but you clarified that it was just your coworker.

This time, you hadn't been able to fall asleep, especially since you stayed late correcting exams.

In the teacher's room, you collapsed at the table, lying in your arms, to try to rest a little until your next class.

Ratio observed you from his desk.

He knew you had stayed late correcting papers, and you were obviously tired.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. Almost time for your next class, and you looked about to fall asleep on the table.

Ratio let out a soft sigh before getting up from his desk and walking towards you.

He stood next to you, looking down at you.

"Don't fall asleep here," he stated in a firm but soft tone.

Suddenly, you opened your eyes when you heard Ratio speak.

You stared at him, bleary-eyed, a bit disoriented, but then you remembered why you were lying there.

You let out a soft sigh, and sat up from your previous position.

"I wasn't going to," you said, rubbing your eyes.

You looked at the clock on the wall and groaned. Class would start in about 10 minutes.

Ratio crossed his arms, looking at you closely as you sat up.

"Sure you weren't," he said with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "It doesn't look like you got any rest."

He could see the bags under your eyes and the look of exhaustion on your face.

You remained silent, your eyes closed, without answering him. You were falling asleep again.

Ratio's expression softened a bit. You were really tired.

He leaned his hip against the table, before lightly tapping your head with his hand.

"Hey, stay awake," he said, gently tapping on your forehead.

You were almost asleep when Ratio tapped your head.

You quickly opened your eyes and looked up at him.

"I'm awake," you said, rubbing your eyes again. Ratio let out a small huff, seeing that you were still slightly dozy.

He decided he needed to do something to keep you awake.

He reached out his hand and lightly pinched your cheek, pulling it gently.

You felt a mixture of surprise and irritation as Ratio pinched your cheek.

"Hey-!" you exclaimed, swatting his hand away from your face.

"Don't do that," you grumbled, rubbing your cheek.

Ratio smirked, watching you become a little more awake.

Well, at least he can wake you up a little bit more.

After that, you went to give your class, which fortunately was only 1 hour.

When you finished class, you left, and oh, you were still too sleepy.

You walked quietly through the corridors of the university, which were still passed by more students.

Until you get to the exit, where you were walking to the parking lot.

You stood next to a car, waiting for Ratio to arrive, because, as you used to do, he would take you home.

You stayed there, holding the strips of your bag with one hand, while with the other you tried to keep your eyes open after rubbing them.

Ratio walked out of the university, noticing your figure standing next to the car.

As he approached, he observed how your eyelids were half-closed and you were struggling to stay awake.

He let out a soft sigh as he approached, not saying a word.

Once he was in front of you, he stood still for a moment before speaking. "You look worse than earlier."

That made you laugh a little bit.

You instantly recognized his voice and forced yourself to open your eyes at that moment to see him.

Without waiting for him, you felt his hand take yours, before gently pulling yourself to walk.

You frowned a little bit, where was he taking you? if his car was next to you.

Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, he spoke.

"That's not my car, mine is here,"

Your frown faded as he spoke.

You were a bit slow to understand things at the moment given your tiredness, so it took a few seconds to register his words.

"Ah..." you mumbled quietly under your breath, following him blindly.

But it made you laugh anyway to have made a car mistake.

He never took his eyes off you, he was making sure you didn't end up in a wall or something.

He didn't say anything, just kept walking, and you following him.

When you reached the car, he quickly opened the passenger door and helped you into the car.

Once you were inside, he closed the door behind you before going around to get into the driver's seat.

You sat in the passenger seat, finally resting on a comfortable surface.

You closed your eyes for a moment, relishing the feeling of the seat beneath you.

You heard the sound of the driver's door closing, and soon Ratio started the car.

He started to drive, and the hum of the engine and the quiet music playing from the radio were the only sounds in the car.

Ratio occasionally glanced at you through the corner of his eye, watching as you tried to fight against the tiredness that threatened to overtake you.

He could see how your eyelids were heavy and how you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"You can sleep for a bit," he said, his voice soft. "I'll wake you when we arrive."

You heard Ratio's voice, and opened your eyes a little, looking in his direction.

You considered what he said for a moment, but then closed your eyes again.

You let out a subtle breath, realizing that perhaps sleep was not a bad idea.

"Alright," you muttered. "Just… wake me up, please."

"I will," he reassured you. "Don't worry."

The car continued on its way, the hum of the engine and the quiet music lulling you into a drowsy state.

The passing scenery outside the window slowly began to blur together, as you gradually fell asleep.

[…]

You opened your eyes somewhat startled.

The first thing you saw was that you were still in Ratio's car and on top of it you had something that looked like his clothes.

Aeons, how much time had passed? As you tried to sit up, you realized that Ratio's vest had been placed over you like a makeshift blanket.

Looking out the window, it seemed that the car had parked in your driveway.

You turned to look at Ratio, who in that moment seemed to be reading something. Ratio looked up as soon you turned to look at him.

He didn't say anything, just looked at you with a blank expression.

"You drooled on it." He said as he pointed to the vest. You let out a small chuckle, noticing the wet spot on the vest he was pointing at.

"Sorry," you said, trying to rub the drool off the fabric. "I'm going to wash it."

Ratio shook his head, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"It's fine, don't worry about it."

He closed the book he was reading and put it on the dashboard.

"It's not like it's the first time it's happened."

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, a bit intrigued by what he meant.

"What do you mean, it's not the first time?" You asked. "Someone else drooling in your clothes?"

Your face was pure, literally, like a sign of interrogation. 'I screwed up.' was the first thought on Ratio's head.

"No, maybe, yes, no,"

"Huh?" You let go, not understanding what he said.

So, yes or no?

He looked at you for a moment, watching you trying to wrap your head around his previous answer.

"No, it's never happened before," he clarified.

"I meant that this is not the first time it has gotten dirty." He dded. Just in case.

Your mouth opened in the form of an 'o', now understanding its words.

"Ohh," You said, nodding.

"Right‐, you didn't wake me up, how long has it been since we arrived?" You asked, something worried.

Ratio checked the time on his phone, which was on the dashboard.

"About two hours," he replied, before locking the phone and turning his attention back to you.

Your eyes widened slightly in shock when you heard Ratio's answer.

"Two hours?" You repeated, feeling a pang of guilt for sleeping for that amount of time.

Ratio nodded in response to your question.

"Yes," he said. "You were really tired."

"Oh, aeons, I'm so sorry," you said quickly.

You felt sorry, as he spent two hours waiting for you to wake up.

Ratio shook his head, waving off your apology.

"It's fine," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "You needed the sleep."

He paused for a moment, his gaze studying you closely.

And as he looked at you, you took out your phone, watching how late it was already.

Even though he told you he was okay, you still feel the shame.

"Your house is far from mine," you muttered as you calculated the time with your fingers, according to the time you saw on your phone.

"You can stay at my house until tomorrow," you said without much thought, "you're probably tired too," you added.

Ratio was surprised by your invitation. He hadn't expected you to offer him a place to stay.

He considered your offer for a moment, weighing the pros and cons in his mind.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice laced with a hint of hesitation. "I don't want to impose."

"I'm definitely sure,"

He hadn't expected you to invite him over, but the thought didn't seem unpleasant to him.

"Alright," he said after a moment of consideration. "If that's alright with you."

[…]

Ratio took a deep breath, trying to ignore the slight flutter in his chest.

He had never stayed at your house before, but the thought of spending even just a night there didn't seem to bother him.

"Uhm," you let go, something insecure to say.

"You can sleep in my room," you said, as you brought blankets to the couch and a pillow.

Ratio watched as you brought blankets and a pillow over to the couch.

He paused for a moment before speaking, his voice soft.

"Are you sure you're not going to be uncomfortable?"

He said, when he saw that you made a makeshift bed on the couch, where he assumed you were going to sleep.

"Of course," you said, with a small smile.

"It's fine, I'm not that uncomfortable," you added, waving off Ratio's concern.

"But… are you sure you're okay with it?" He hesitated for a moment, before adding, "You'll be sleeping alone on the sofa while I have your bed?"

"Yup," you said, finishing fixing the makeshift bed.

Ratio had to admit that the idea of sleeping on the couch made him uneasy.

Although the couch was comfortable, it wasn't built for sleeping comfortably.

Without saying a word, he walked over to you and gently took the blankets from your hand.

"You're sleeping in the bed," he said, his tone firm.

You opened your mouth to protest, shocked by Ratio's adamant demand that you sleep in your own bed.

But Ratio was unshakeable.

"I'm not going to let you sleep on that couch," he said firmly. "It's uncomfortable."

"But…"

Ratio stood in front of you, holding the blankets in his hands. He was determined and unyielding in his decision.

"You'll be sleeping on the bed, and that's final."

You raised an eyebrow at his uncompromising tone, feeling a mix of surprise and amusement. It was a bit out of character for Ratio to get this adamant about something.

"You'll be uncomfortable." you protested weakly.

"You shouldn't worry about it, go to sleep," he said, placing the blankets he had in his hands back on the couch.

You let out a sigh and went to your room, muttering a silent 'good night'.

And, as Ratio sat on the couch so you could lie down, you left your room.

[...]

"We'll both sleep on the couch," you said, firmly, and sitting next to Ratio.

You didn't think it was fair that you slept in your bed. Ratio was taken aback as you sat down next to him on the couch.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes widening in surprise. "Are you serious?"

He couldn't believe that you were willing to give up your own bed.

"This is ridiculous," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice. "You're the one who needs sleep the most."

"And so did you." you said more calmly, settling on the couch, that fortunately it was big enough for both of you. Maybe you and he got too attached to each other.

Because now it didn't consist of being together when you came home, but even staying to sleep in each other's house.

Sometimes in your house and sometimes in his.

At first you two went from being only on the couch, to the point of confidence where you could sleep together in the same bed.

Of course, you never crossed limits, just some conversation and maybe embarrassed looks and that.

You couldn't believe you even took his hand when you slept.

It was sudden, but very pleasant.

The feelings involved were too obvious. But not a single word was ever said about it.

It had become a routine now, almost like a habit.

Whether it was your house or his, you would find yourselves in the same bed. There was a sense of comfort and familiarity in each other's presence.

The touch of his hand in yours, the way you both held onto each other's hands in your sleep—it spoke volumes without either of you uttering a word about it.

Despite the obvious presence of feelings between you, neither of you dared to express them aloud.

It was a strange and complicated situation. Both of you were aware of the feelings that were blooming between you, but neither of you had the courage to say anything about it.

The touches, the looks, the way you slept in each other's arms—all of these were like a silent language, a silent understanding between two people who were too afraid to speak.

The silence in the darkness seemed almost deafening.

The only sound breaking the quiet was your soft breathing and Ratio's steady heartbeat.

In the dim light, you watched his profile: the slope of his brow, the sharp angle of his nose, the firm line of his mouth. Even in sleep, Ratio's features held that aura of intelligence and aloofness.

Your eyes traced the shape of his lips, a thought lingering in your mind: what would it feel like to press your own against them?

Your heart raced as the thought crossed your mind. The image of pressing your lips to Ratio's, the sweetness and tenderness of the gesture, both excited and terrified you.

You felt your cheeks grow hotter and your breath quicken slightly.

'What am I thinking?' you scolded yourself silently, feeling both embarrassed and intrigued.

After a few more turns in bed, you managed to fall asleep.

[…]

The light coming in through the window of your room made you move a little in bed, letting out a slight whimper for waking you up.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking in the familiar surroundings of your bedroom. The morning sun poured in through the curtains, casting a warm glow over everything.

As you moved slightly in bed, you felt a weight against your back and something around your waist.

Suddenly, the realization hit you: you were not alone.

Ratio was there, his body pressed against yours, his arm around you like a protective barrier.

You lay still for a moment, processing the sensation of Ratio's body against yours.

His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his breathing slow and even. His arm was tight around your waist, as if he was holding onto you even in his sleep.

A strange mix of emotions swirled within you: surprise, contentment, tinges of joy, and a hint of confusion.

'How did we end up so close?' you wondered, feeling Ratio's breath against the back of your neck.

You moved as you could, coming face to face with him.

You were still sleepy, your eyes were still getting used to daylight.

The sight of Ratio's profile, up close and bathed in the morning light, was almost too much for your still-drowsy mind to handle.

His features, so often set in a stern expression, were relaxed and peaceful.

But before you could continue to admire his face, he frowned a little, also feeling the light that fell on his face after you had moved.

Ratio began to stir in his sleep, his arm around your waist tightening for a moment before he slowly opened his eyes.

He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the morning light, before he focused on you.

Ratio found himself face to face with you, their bodies tangled together and closer than usual.

He could tell that you were still half-asleep too, your eyes slightly glazed and your body drowsy.

For a moment, he simply watched you, his gaze lingering on your face. It was a sight he had grown accustomed to over time. But there was something about this moment, with the soft sunlight bathing your features, that felt almost intimate.

And, as if it were his way of saying 'good morning', he came to your face a little bit closer and gave you a soft kiss on the lips.

The surprise of Ratio's unexpected gesture left you momentarily stunned.

It was a soft, brief kiss, but it left a warm and tingling feeling on your lips. You couldn’t help but stare at him dumbfounded, your mind still trying to grasp the early morning.

You felt your heart race in your chest, but you couldn't move or even think about reciprocating.

As Ratio pulled away from the kiss, he looked into your eyes. His gaze was softer than usual, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was only broken by the sound of your mingled breaths.

You looked back at Ratio, unsure of how to react. You couldn't tell if he did it without thinking because after all, he had just woken up.

But the fact was that he kissed you. Ratio broke the silence first, his voice low and deep.

"Good morning," he said, his eyes still fixed on yours.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, the kiss still lingering on your lips.

"Um," you muttered, not quite sure what to say. "Good morning…"

He stayed silent for a moment, his arm still around your waist.

There was a palpable tension in the air, a silent communication between you. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the unexpected kiss, had transformed the usual early morning quiet into something almost electric.

You managed to stick your head to his chest, almost as if you wanted to hide your face.

And as you did, you let out a soft laugh.

You were grateful for what was going on in your life. Ratio heard your soft laugh, the sound slightly muffled by his chest. He felt your body relax against his, and a strange feeling of relief and warmth washed over him.

He could feel the heat coming off your face as you tried to hide it against his chest.

After a few moments of silence, Ratio spoke again, his voice soft but firm.

"I can't see your expression like that."

You felt his hand began to slide up and down your back in a slow, soothing motion. The gesture was both comforting and intimate, his hand warm against your skin.

It was as if Ratio was silently acknowledging the change in atmosphere, the strange but pleasant electricity in the air.

"I know," you said quietly.

Ratio's hand continued its slow, soothing path up and down your back, the contact warm and gentle.

You could feel his breath against your hair, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled.

There was something soothing and intimate about being so close to him, about feeling his body against yours.

Ratio, on the other hand, was also silently relishing this moment of closeness.

He had woken up to find himself tangled with you, and the kiss had been completely unexpected.

But he didn't regret it.

[…]

You walked with a smile on your face, which despite being something characteristic on your face, this time it was for one more reason.

Him.

Oh, aeons, you really liked that man.

Maybe it's time for you to tell him your feelings, even though they're obvious.

You gave your first two classes of the day with much better attitude than other days, and of course, your students were more than happy about it.

Ratio, for his part, also noticed that you were more radiant than usual.

The usual kindness and patience you always put into your classes were heightened today, and your warm aura seemed to touch everyone.

Even his most rowdy and reluctant students were unusually attentive and behaved during his class.

There was a sense of peace and tranquility surrounding you, and it clearly had a positive effect on everyone around you.

Throughout the day, Ratio found himself stealing glances at you everytime he could, the memory of the morning fresh in his mind.

The students in your classes today couldn't help but notice the change in your demeanor. You were more energetic, more animated, and more engaged than usual.

Word was quickly spreading that you seemed happier than usual.

By lunchtime, many of your fellow colleagues had come up to ask you about your mood.

"You seem strangely more happy today," a colleague commented during lunch.

"Something good happened?"

"A secret lover, perhaps?"

You could not hide the small, almost embarrassed smile that formed on your lips as your colleagues teased you.

Their comments weren't far from the truth, after all.

"Maybe," you replied, trying to brush off their suggestions with a casual laugh.

But deep down, you knew the real reason behind your elevated mood.

Ratio. He was the reason.

After that, you just had to teach a class and you would end your working day, you were already looking forward to returning home with Ratio.

But strangely, just as you were going to start teaching the class to your students, a knock on the door rang out.

You curiously approached quickly, only to see Ratio there.

You instantly smiled, something you couldn't help.

However, your smile disappeared a little as you noticed the frown on his face and look somewhat tense.

Before you could ask him what was going on, he spoke first.

"The principal is waiting for us in his office,"

Your heart sank a little at Ratio's words. The principal summoning both of you could mean nothing good.

A thousand thoughts began to race through your mind. Had you done something wrong? Had there been a complaint about your classes?

You tried to remain calm as you spoke.

"Do you know what it's about?"

Ratio shook his head, his expression still tense. But as he gestured for you to follow, his eyes met yours for a brief moment.

You could see a flicker of concern in his gaze, a hint of the same emotions you were feeling.

"Guys, if you're going to talk, do it quietly," you said out loud, without your tone of voice faltering from the tension that grew inside you, before closing the door behind you.

The walk to the principal's office was filled with a tense silence. Ratio's face was unreadable, his usual stern expression giving away nothing.

You walked slightly behind him, trying to keep up with his long strides.

Despite the distance between you, you could almost feel the anxiety radiating off him. It was unlike him to be so visibly unnerved.

You could feel your heart beating faster with each step, your palms slightly sweaty.

As you reached the principal's office door, you felt Ratio's hand gently touch your elbow, a silent gesture to make you stop.

You turned to look at him, meeting his gaze.

For a moment, he stared at you, his eyes studying your face. It was as if he was trying to read something from your expressions.

Ratio's eyes seemed to linger on your face a little longer than necessary, but you couldn't tell if he was reading your concern or something else.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low.

"Whatever happens in there," he muttered, his gaze still firmly locked on yours. "Stay calm. Try not to say anything unnecessary. And—let me do most of the talking."

His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

You nodded, swallowing heavily. Ratio's words did little to ease your growing anxiety.

In this case, it only made it worse.

Ratio's words echoed in your mind as you watched him knock firmly on the principal's office door.

The silence that followed seemed almost deafening.

After a few moments, the principal's voice called out.

"Come in,"

Ratio pushed the door open, gesturing for you to go in first. You stepped into the office, your heart hammering in your chest.

The principal was sat behind his desk, a stack of papers in front of him.

His expression was serious, his eyes moving from Ratio to you.

With a brief greeting, the director told them to take a seat, even without changing their tone of voice or facial expression a little.

You sat down, your legs seeming to turn slightly numb.

Ratio took a seat beside you, his hand brushing against yours for a brief moment.

The principal looked at both of you, his gaze lingering on you for a few seconds, before finally speaking.

"I suppose you know why you're both here," the principal began. "I need to discuss a…delicate matter."

Your anxiety heightened even more.

Ratio, on the other hand, merely nodded, his face stoic.

The principal leaned back in his chair, studying you for a moment.

His expression was still stoic, but there was an edge to his gaze that you couldn't quite read.

"I'm going to cut to the chase," he began, shuffling through the papers on his desk. "There have been some concerns about… certain rumors about you two."

Your breath caught in your throat. Rumors? What rumors…

Oh, fuck.

The principal's words were like a punch to the gut.

Rumors.

You'd known the students have been speculating about the two of you for a while, but you hadn't realized it had gotten this far.

As the principal continued to speak, you could feel Ratio tensing beside you.

Your palms were sweaty, and it took all your will not to clench your fists too tightly.

"There have been reports," the principal said, "of… improper conduct between you two. Spending excessive time together, leaving and arriving at work together…"

The principal continued, his gaze shifting between you and Ratio.

"Apparently, there have been some… rumblings among the students and staff." He said, his voice stern. "Concerns about a… romantic… relationship between the two of you."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I'm more than sure you both know about the code in this university about relationships between professors," he added again, intertwining his hands at the desk.

Your heart sank even further as the principal's words sunk in.

So it had gone that far. Rumours amongst the students and staff…

This wasn't good.

Your eyes flicked to Ratio, but he was still stonily silent. His face was impassive, but you could see the muscles in his jaw clenching.

"Of course," Ratio spoke up for the first time since being in the office. His voice was as level as usual, betraying nothing. "We are both aware of the rules in place."

The principal's words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Your heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

Beside you, Ratio's body was taut, his expression still a blank mask.

The code was strict. Professors were forbidden to date each other—it was a rule that came with the job.

The principal's gaze rested on Ratio, his eyes sharp.

"Ratio," he said, "I've known you for a long time. You're an excellent professor, but—"

Ratio cut him off, his voice cold. "Excuse me, but what? You're going to lecture me about the code?"

The principal's expression didn't change a bit. "Yes," he said, "as your boss, it's my responsibility to remind you of the university's regulations."

Ratio's jaw tightened. "I'm well aware of the regulations," he said, his voice taking a more defiant tone. "But do you really think I would risk my career for… for something like a romance?"

Your mind was racing. The principal's words had struck a nerve, but Ratio's response was almost… defensive.

The principal, on the other hand, was unimpressed.

His gaze remained steady on Ratio. "I'm not questioning your professional integrity," he said, his tone unyielding.

"But I need to make sure that these rumors are… unfounded."

Ratio's face darkened, his eyes narrowing. "These rumors are absolutely unfounded," he replied, his voice sharp as a blade. "Our relationship is… strictly… professional."

Your heart ached. Strictly… professional?

He saw the director leaning on his chair, before letting out an audible sigh.

"As the authority of this university, I dare ask both of you. Are you having, starting. thinking about having an external relationship to being coworkers, rather, a romantic relationship?" He questioned, with total seriousness and firmness.

The room was silent as the principal's question hung in the air.

Your chest was constricting, your gut clenched.

You stole a glance at Ratio. His jaw was so tight, you thought it might crack.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the principal.

The seconds felt like hours before he finally spoke. "No," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "There is no romantic relationship."

"…"

"We do not and will not, have, any sort of romantic relationship."

The principal was silent for a moment. His gaze flicked over to you, his eyes seeming to search your face.

The director was going to talk, but Ratio interrupted him.

"And even though something happened or hasn't happened between us, that was and would be purely a mistake. Something that in any case got out of hand. Only that, nothing else."

The room was silent once again.

Ratio's words echoed in your ears, each one like a stab to the heart.

His words stung.

A mistake. That's all what had happened between the two of you was… a mistake.

You felt that ugly feeling where you felt a pain in your chest and throat, which left a slight shudder spreading throughout your body.

After a few moments, the principal spoke again. His voice was still firm, but there was a hint of resignation in it.

"And you, Y/N? Do you also think the same way?" The principal's question forced you out of your thoughts.

Your heart was pounding.

You swallowed heavily, trying to steady your racing mind.

The words stuck in your throat. You could feel Ratio's gaze on you, but you dared not look at him.

For a moment, you didn't know what to say. Your mind was a jumbled mess.

Your heart was breaking.

Finally, you found your voice. "Yes," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. The word felt like sandpaper on your tongue. The room was so quiet, you could almost hear a pin drop.

Ratio remained silent, his expression unreadable.

The principal was watching you, his eyes studying your face intently.

You could feel yourself wilting under his gaze. Your chest was tight, your head spinning.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the principal spoke.

"I see," he said, folding his hands on the desk. "In that case, I trust that both of you will ensure these rumors do not continue to persist. We do not need such… distractions at this university."

You looked at a blank dot on the director's desk, begging your eyes not to get teary.

Ratio nodded. "I assure you that this situation won't happen again,"

His voice was stoic, giving away nothing of what he really felt.

Ratio.

You had no idea what he felt in that moment.

But his words… still echoed in your heart.

A mistake.

He looked very firm in saying those words.

The principal nodded, seeming satisfied enough. "Good," he said, "that's all I needed to know."

He pushed his chair back, signalling that the meeting was over.

"You both may leave now."

You felt your body moving, but you were on autopilot. You understood that he would not deny, after all, he could lose his job. But a small part of you hoped he would defend what little you two were beginning to have.

Everything around you was a blur, your thoughts were all over the place.

Ratio stayed silent as well as both of you walked out of the office.

It wasn't until the door closed behind you that the world came back into focus.

And despite being outside, you didn't look at him.

For a few moments, both of you remained there in tense silence. Ratio's expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on some point to the side.

Your heart was still in your throat, your mind still racing.

Finally, Ratio spoke, his voice low. "You should go back to your class."

Hearing his voice felt like another twist of a knife.

You nodded, not able to bring yourself to speak. You turned and walked away, your heart heavy.

You could feel your hands trembling, your chest constricting more and more with each step.

As you entered your classroom, your eyes were blurry, and your vision was slightly misty.

The students glanced up as you walked in, but you barely noticed them.

You made your way to your desk and sank into the chair.

For the rest of the lesson, you taught mechanically.

Your mind wasn't really there.

The hours passed, but the lesson seemed to last an eternity.

Each moment felt like a blade against your heart. Ratio's words were etched in your heart, and the image of his stony face refusing to leave.

The students were starting to notice that something was wrong. Some asked if you were alright, others exchanged whispers.

You made it through the period on autopilot, hardly paying any attention to yourself or the class around you.

Once the bell rang, you watched as the students filed out of class.

You were left alone in the empty room, the silence deafening.

Once the door closed behind the last student, you slumped back into your chair.

Your body was trembling, and your heart was beating painfully in your chest.

You felt like you might burst into tears at any moment.

But you sat there, frozen, staring at the wall in front of your chair.

You took a few minutes to calm down as best you could, before you left the classroom.

You walked through the hallways, your eyes unfocused and your heart still aching.

The corridors were empty as you made your way to the break room.

You wanted—no, needed—a cup of coffee. It was more of a physical need than a mental one.

As you reached the small break room, you walked in and closed the door behind you.

The room was not empty, but it was not too full either.

You made your way over to the coffee machine and began to make yourself a cup.

As you did, you tried to relax with the sound of the clock on the wall and papers being signed and corrected. The coffee started to brew.

The rich scent of caffeine filled the air as you waited patiently, hoping it would soothe your aching heart somehow.

You were still shaken from the meeting, and the cup of steaming black liquid was the only thing you could find any comfort in.

The warmth it gave you, more than anything.

As the coffee finished brewing, you were about to pour it into a cup when a voice startled you from your thoughts.

"That's a lot of coffee."

You turned to see who had spoken.

Ratio was standing next to you, looking at the coffee you were about to pour into a cup.

You froze, your heart lurching in your chest.

Seeing him suddenly was a surprise, and a reminder of the conversation and how it ended.

"Ah…yes" you muttered, trying to make your voice come out soft and calm, as always.

Ratio's expression was unreadable, his gaze fixated on the coffee pot. For a moment, he said nothing, only remained there in silence.

The desire to cry took hold of you again. And to think that today you were going to declare and affirm your feelings for him.

Ratio's voice broke the silence, low and measured as usual. “I didn’t know art teachers could drink this much caffeine." His words were a weak attempt at humor.

You didn’t know what to say, staring at the cup you were about to fill. "Hah," you forced yourself to let go of that slight laugh.

Ratio's gaze flicked to yours, studying your face for a moment.

His expression was calm, but his eyes seemed to cut through you.

You knew he was looking at you, but you couldn't bring yourself to look back at him.

The tension in the air was thick.

"You shouldn’t drink that much,” Ratio spoke again. You knew he was going to keep talking. But at that moment you didn't want to hear him.

You couldn't help it.

Before he could continue, you finally looked at him, forcing yourself to look straight into his blank face.

The words came out of your mouth before you could even catch them.

"Why? Are you worried?" Your voice was sharp and cold, surprising even yourself.

A defence mechanism.

Ratio was caught off guard, but his stoic expression didn't falter. He didn't immediately reply.

After a few moments, Ratio's gaze flicked over your face, searching for something.

You didn't know what he was looking for, but you knew that you hoped he didn't see anything.

His voice was a little softer when he finally replied. "Yes, I suppose I am."

Your heart ached at the answer, your chest tight.

He was concerned?

And yet…

His words in the director's office echoed in your mind.

"A mistake.."

You tore your gaze from his, staring back at the coffee pot. You could still feel his eyes on you and it was suffocating. So you forced yourself to speak.

"The best thing will be that you don't worry about me again, Mr. Ratio," you spoke, adding the formal title to his name, almost like before being close to him.

Ratio was silent, and you could feel his gaze still on you.

He was trying to read you, trying to understand the change in your attitude.

You could sense that he was at a loss for words.

After a moment, he spoke again, his voice still calm but with a slight edge to it.

"Did I say something to upset you?" he asked.

His question was a dagger to your heart, your mind instantly going back to the memory of his words in the director's office.

You forced yourself to stay calm, to keep your voice level and emotionless.

"You didn't say anything that wasn't true, sir," you replied.

As you spoke, you slowly poured the coffee into the cup, trying to keep your hands steady.

Ratio was silent, his eyes still on you.

You knew that he knew the weight of his previous words. He knew it perfectly well.

"We are and will not be anything, what happened when we were together was a mistake," you said, using the same words as him.

However, when you spoke, you lowered the tone of your voice, so that only he could hear it and not attract the attention of the other teachers who were in the room.

Ratio's expression didn't change. He remained still, his eyes fixed on you, but a flicker of something passed through his gaze. Whether it was hurt, guilt, or something else, you couldn't tell.

When you finished speaking, he was silent for a few seconds, his eyes still burning into yours.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice a little hoarse.

"Is that what you really think?" His question felt like a slap in the face.

Was that what you really thought? You almost wanted to laugh, but the bitter feeling in your chest wouldn't let you.

"That's what you thought," you answered, not looking away from him. "I'm just repeating what you said."

Ratio's jaw clenched tightly, his jaw tensing as you spoke.

"It was a mistake," he repeated what he had said before, his voice a little more firm. There was something else in his voice. A pang of regret or doubt.

You tried to keep your composure, but his words dug into your heart again.

"That's right," you agreed, your voice low. "It was a mistake. Nothing more. Nothing less." After that, you didn't bother to see him again. All you heard were his footsteps and the teacher's room door opening and closing.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify or feed into ai

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sweetcloverheart · 2 months ago

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Clover Rants Miraculously: Unearned Defeat

Maybe it's the bitter Chloe Stan in me, but I genuinely do hate how her (And Lila's, frankly) "Downfall" in S5 was never actually about her bullying victims coming together as a community/group to finally stand up for themselves, but about the writers taking every opportunity possible to mock her (and her fans indirectly) because they were that desperate to get the audience onboard with her constant on-screen ridicule. Marinette wasn't allowed to actually stand up for herself against her, to get others to stand up for themselves, to get the class and their teachers to put their feet down in face of her cruelty and commands and finally say "No. I don't care if you're going to call your dad down to have me fired/expelled/exiled. I'm noting doing what you asked. I refuse to buckle under your threats anymore. The answer is no."

Instead, it's 27 episodes (and two specials) of "Isn't Chloe so stupid and dumb? Look at how stupid and dumb she is! She's too dumb to tell Felix and Adrien apart despite being their friend for years. She's too dumb to hide the fact that she hasn't been doing her own homework since Primary. She's too dumb to know Gabriel's tricking her into taking over Paris. She can't even spell 'Democracy' or scheme without Lila needing to hold her hand! What a moron, am I right?". Her friendship with Adrien gets ended over a randomly inserted event from a year ago rather than her steadily growing toxicity that's clearly changed her from the girl he befriended years before, just so Chloe can rant and rave about how evil (and stupid) she is, too much so to even apologize. Sabrina gets downgraded from friend/lackey to punchingbag/slave with nearly zero explanation on how the transition happened, before suddenly being inserted with morals during a scheme (when the upset's clearly more about her being upstaged by Lila) when she barely showed any remorse/reluctance before now and throwing Chloe under the bus to save herself under the excuse of "redeeming herself" to prove further that Chloe is too dumb and stupid to appreciate her friends. Her father, who constantly indulged her whims and turned the whole city upsidedown in her name even when unasked, calls her "Selfish and heartless" to a close friend, and barely reflects on how he might of had a hand in how that came to be, before tossing her to her neglectful mother as a "they deserve each other" punishment for her stupidity and evil. An entirely new character is introduced specifically to talk about how evil and stupid Chloe is and blaming her for her expulsion before getting casually tossed aside. An evil version of Marinette's existence is all but directly blamed on Chloe's bullying rather than the post-apocalyptic villainous dictatorship she lives under that forbids helping people, and even then, nothing comes of the mention as it just exist to remind the audience that Chloe is evil and stupid - even in alternate universes. We dedicated a section of the London special on how Chloe's too evil and stupid to change just to have it there (instead of actual being in London so the episode name would make some sense). Her defeat doesn't come from a clever plan, or the power of cooperation, or even love in the face of difficulty - instead, it comes from spyware and the heroes deciding "Nuhuh" as their transformation timers run out and the narrative shrugging before giving them a freebie by claiming they've "Grown up" without explaining how.

Even when Marinette is finally given the chance to shut Chloe down, it just...rings hollow, because it more about making Chloe look foolish and letting us laugh at her tears than making Marinette seem strong for finally standing up to the girl who's apparently tormented her since they were in diapers and yet somehow she's been beating the blonde down for the past 2-4 seasons with minimum effort. And even, it feels unearned because not only has Marinette not been allowed to build up to her defeat of Chloe to this point, she isn't the one who took her down anyways - convenience did the job for her and she just showed up at the right time to reap the benefits.

Marinette and all the people Chloe hurt should have been given this chance to grow and finally get back their agency from her, to finally defeat Chloe on their own - but instead, they're made passive players and props to the writers personal hit pieces against the loud fan minority on twitter, because a group of adults decided their personal hateboner against the fictional child antagonist they created was far more important than the story they were supposed to tell

#ML Salt #Clover Rants Miraculously

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elderwisp · 5 months ago

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◁ || ▷ now playing

Frances: Look, I’m sorry about my friends. I swear, they aren’t that weird all the time. Well…

Icarus: [ chuckles ] It’s fine. They seem to care about you a great bunch.

Frances: I honestly think they would take a bullet for me. I’d do the same for them.

Icarus: That’s good though, I’m glad you have people looking out for you.

Frances: Would you say the same for your friends?

Icarus: Yeah, I think so. This your room?

Frances: Mhm. You can come in.

Icarus: You sure?

Frances: Or we can talk right here. Although I imagine you’re gonna get a bit tired of the drunk people running into the door.

Icarus: [ small laugh ] Good point. You like to collect a lot of things. Is this a rock?

Frances: A geode, I think if I wasn’t a music major, I’d probably be a geologist.

Icarus: You could always study for another four years.

Frances: Pfft. Absolutely not. I never want to buy another textbook again.

Icarus: Are you excited for what comes next?

Frances: Actually, about that. I need to talk to you about something.

Icarus: Is it bad?

Frances: Sort of.

Icarus: Then we can talk about it another time. We’re celebrating.

Frances: Icarus…

Icarus: You gonna deny me that?

Frances: [ shakes head ]

Icarus: Good.

Dan: Oye pendejo! Where are you going with my alcohol?!

Ares: JESUS!

Dan: It’s okay I know him. Pues?!

Atlas: No te preocupes, vamos a divertirnos! Mwah! / Don't worry, we're going to have fun!

Dan: [ grumbles ] That fucker.

Ares: Context??

Dan: He literally always does this. He always steals my alcohol!

Ares: You should beat him up.

Dan: I should- Why are you encouraging me?

Ares: I dunno. Feelin’ evil I guess. Got a light?

Dan: Now what the hell is up with you not having a lighter?

Ares: I do! I just never refill it.

Dan: I don’t even think said lighter is in the room with us.

Ares: You know there are some things I’m allowed to not be put together with and this is one of them.

Dan: Here. Keep it.

Ares: I am not keeping your things.

Dan: You sayin’ there’s something wrong with it?

Ares: I’m not doing this with you.

Dan: Oh so you hate me.

Ares: Yep, I guess I do.

Gabriel: Dan! Now why the hell were there two people making out in the entrance?

Dan: They’re still doing that?

Gabriel: I mean good for them but like… Get outta my way, you know?

Dan: Pfft! Thank you for coming!

Gabriel: Of course! I brought a bottle of wine but Gum took it.

Ares: Gum’s here? And she’s alone?

Gabriel: She’s fine. Knows exactly where I’m at, besides something caught her eye.

Frances: You’ve been practicing.

Icarus: I have a great teacher.

Frances: Man, I’m gonna miss this.

Icarus: Sit. I know you’re scared that things are changing.

Frances: Icarus, I need to-

Icarus: I’d like it if you enjoyed this moment with me. Please?

Frances: Okay.

Icarus: When do you leave?

Frances: First week of July. God, leave it to the universe to cosmically fuck up my life.

Icarus: Not even!

Frances: I mean is it selfish for me to be a tad bit unhappy? Everything I’ve worked for, built up to this very moment and it’s not enough.

Icarus: Sometimes expectations are just that. A lead up to disappointment.

Frances: I’m sorry, I’m being so negative right now. We were having a moment and I started to ramble.

Icarus: Don’t apologize. From the time I’ve known you, I can see you’re a bit of an overthinker but! Before you give me that look, it isn’t a bad thing.

Frances: It isn’t bad… It’s horrible.

Icarus: [ chuckles ] Stop it! You like to see things in every perspective and it’s endearing.

Frances: Said the only person ever.

Icarus: Why are you so keen on giving me a hard time?

Frances: Why not? I think you like it.

Icarus: I like a lot of things about you, Frances. Be here with me?

Frances: Even if it breaks my heart?

Icarus: At least you won’t be alone in that.

#feck it good morning i’m posting this rn so i can react with all of u before work #30 PICTURES?! TECHNICALLY 31?!#i will say this but the fact that icarus just knew what was coming next and frances having to experience a situation you can't control.. ah #tessellate #ts4 #simblr #sims 4 story #show us your story #tw: smoking #tw: alcohol #tessellate: dan #tessellate: frances #tessellate: icarus #tessellate: ares #tessellate: atlas #tessellate: gabriel

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aromanticannibal · 2 months ago

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yeah so if you genuinely don't know how to write an email instead of using chatgpt and getting something that 1: has a chance to just fucking suck (and potentially be noticeably AI) and 2: uses stolen content, ruins the environment and indicates to the gen-AI companies that you want more gen-AI bullshit that will steal things and ruin the environment, you can look up how to write an email or look up email examples. here's a website, here's another, here's the wikihow page (it's a bit shit but it does its job), here's a good one for formal emails, and here's an email I sent today (more examples under the cut):

something that's really annoying right now is that most websites are desperately trying to sell you their cool funky AI friend that can write the email for you, and look at me: you have to tell it to go fuck itself (in your head, don't use it). this isn't about you being a moron for not being about to write an email, I struggled with it for a while too, I still do sometimes, writing emails notoriously sucks. gen-AI sucks more.

also, this might not be the case for everyone, but please at least try to learn how to write the email before using chatgpt, it will help you forever. if you have a question about emails or if you're not sure how to write one specific email, you can send an ask: I'm not all-knowing but I'll do my best to help.

I can mostly help for college/high school levels and I am studying in a French school, so the codes may not be exactly the same, but I am in fact being taught by English speakers, sometimes native ones.

I'll give more general advice at the end, but here are a few examples of emails I would send.

If there's even a small chance of your teacher not recognizing you, write at the top something like "I am Name Last name, I am in your X-Y-Z class on Mondays from 8AM to 9AM". This isn't too useful in high school because your teachers likely know you, but in college your teachers might not. This will give them context.

Do your best to avoid typos or grammar errors. Reread your email, especially if the teacher is a language teacher.

Be polite, always, unless the teacher explicitly specified they don't care.

You do not need to beg for anything, don't debase yourself, and if a teacher makes you debase yourself, report them. You shouldn't have to beg for something that you ask for in an email. (so no more than one please per email, and avoid this one please if possible).

If it's possible and safe for you, prefer discussing important matters IRL.

Remember who you're talking to. Is the teacher strict or chill? Younger or older? Are they a white abled man or a Black disabled woman? Are they very into "respect the teacher!!" or do they put themselves at your level? Are you a 15 y/o high school student or a 20 something college student? Is this teacher familiar with you? Have they been understanding in the past? etc.

Generally, despite all my warnings above, a simple polite email will be fine with most teachers. If you're not sure how to identify the above possibilities or how to alter your emails depending on them, just write a formal, polite email (like seen above).

Some universities have online courses that teach you how to write emails. If there is a web-type course in your university and you can take it, take it.

Mine has one. I hate it. They defined a tweet as a "post on a blogging platform". I have to complete it or I don't pass. It still has a good tutorial for writing emails. You are lucky in the sense that emails are like the basic thing that even the boomer teachers know how to do (even if they don't like doing it), so there are a lot of resources for people who haven't written emails yet and need to learn.

If possible, ask your teacher at the start of the year what email to contact them with - if you're lucky, they'll say things about what kinds of emails they want.

If you're lucky still, someone else will send a shit email and the teacher will make a point during the class to remind how to write a proper email.

I put "Dear name" everywhere, but if it's not an extremely formal setting, some teachers will be fine with a "Hello". If you're not sure of the receiver's gender, use their title (Dr. etc).

For the extension: sometimes teachers aren't allowed to give you an extension or are assholes who don't want to give you an extension. In that case, don't bother writing another email (again: don't beg. + it will make them dislike you which you don't want).

This works more in work settings, but I read once that it's good to say "I will be taking a day off" rather than "May I take a day off/is it possible to take a day off". Just say that it's going to happen.

Know your rights. I can't know them for you. Figure out what the teacher can and cannot do through legal documents on your school's website or whatever. Know your rights depending on your state or country.

If you have a bad memory and don't want to have to look up how to write an email everytime, open your notes app or your blocknote or any preferred place to take notes and write down the important. I'd advise to note common greetings, subjects, opening and closing lines. Same for your teachers, if you need to remember which one is a bitch and which one is chill, write their name down with a description.

#people who know how to write emails. I'm calling you. post email examples lmao #like if you have time to make a guide or to compile examples. do it #mumblings//#emails #how to write an email #chatgpt #(if you're a tech bro and you see this: do not bother I will block you)

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interstellarlyinlove · 7 months ago

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Established Relationship (May 20th)

word count: 683

@wolfstarmicrofic

“What do you mean? What’s there not to like about summer?” Sirius asks, looking at Remus from above the book he’s reading. The book the both of them are reading, actually, except Remus is a quicker reader so now he has to wait until Sirius finishes to be able to talk to him about it.

“The stickiness of it all,” Remus says, resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder and closing his eyes. They’re sitting under their favorite tree near the Black Lake and today is their last day in Hogwarts until next September. Sirius is spending the summer with Remus and his family.

“When else am I going to spend my days eating ripe fruit and wearing too-short shorts? Summer is great.”

Remus smiles. “Sure. If you say so. You're burnt for three months straight, though.”

“I would’ve been too powerful if I had the ability to tan and not burn.”

Remus laughs. “Yeah, that does make me feel better about you being unfairly gorgeous. At least you can’t tan.”

“The universe gave me a boyfriend that tans beautifully though, so I’m not complaining.” Sirius looks at Remus. “You’re unfairly gorgeous.”

Remus’ favorite thing in all the universe is Sirius complimenting him. Still, he makes a face. ��Gross.”

Sirius closes his book. Remus raises an eyebrow. “You are never going to finish that book, Godric. I swear you have until tomorrow before I spoil it for–”

“What do you want to do?” Sirius asks, kissing Remus’ cheek.

Remus blinks. “Like, right now? I want to read to you, maybe make out a little bit, you know how it is.”

Sirius laughs Remus’ favorite laugh. “Sure. I mean, I’d love to. I just meant, like, later. Like, next summer.”

“Next summer?”

“There’s no more Hogwarts after next summer.”

“Ah,” Remus says. Next year is their last at Hogwarts. “That’s a little terrifying, isn’t it?”

“A little.”

“I think I’d like to teach,” Remus says, then he flushes. “I mean, if I could. A werewolf teacher sounds pretty horrible, doesn’t it?”

Sirius flicks Remus’ temple. “I hate it when you say things like that. You’d be an amazing teacher. Academia looks too good on you, moonstone.”

Remus might die. Having Sirius believe in him even more than he believes in himself is something that is so dear to his heart. He wants to tell Sirius this but he flicks Sirius’ temple instead. “You’re sweet. You’d be an amazing healer.”

Sirius looks at him funny. “How do you know what I want to do, and I don’t know that about you?”

“I’m a better boyfriend,” Remus says, grinning. “Also, everyone knows everything about you because you are a professional blabbermouth.”

“I am not.”

“It’s cute.”

“I do not talk a lot,” Sirius says. “I will take a vow of silence right now.”

Remus laughs. “Don’t! Your blabbering is my favorite thing about you.”

“How romantic,” Sirius says. His voice is monotone but Remus knows he’s trying not to laugh.

“I’m excited about living with you. After school”

“You want to live with me?” Sirius asks, and he sounds sincere.

“No, I don’t, actually,” Remus says, and he flicks Sirius’ temple again because how can he not? “Don’t be stupid. Who else would I live with?”

Sirius’ smile is the sun. “I love that you love me. It’s my favorite thing.”

Remus’ heartstrings tug. “Why do you say things like that? Godric.” He pauses. “You loving me is my favorite thing, too. Whatever.”

“We need to learn how to break into vaults.”

“Sure.”

“I need to steal some of my family’s money. Really. I wasn’t thinking about buying a flat before getting disowned. I should’ve toned it down a little bit. Did you know I officially got disowned on a stupid Tuesday night while making new paper from old scraps of paper? It’s a whole thing where you shred it and then dunk it in water and wet tiny scraps of paper have such a weird texture. Anyway, It came out of nowhere, really. The disowning, not the paper making.”

Remus laughs. “You are such a blabbermouth.”

#I love them together with allllll my heart like how cute they're made for each other <333333333333 #I am a healer!Sirius truther at my core #I forgot to post this on the 20th lol but it's here now :)))#remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #wolfstar drabble #marauders era #my writing

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raeniskaies · 6 months ago

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how to fix your mindset ♡

- your mindset is one of the most powerful things in the world . how you depict the world , what you believe , can absolutely change it all . .

001 , respect yourself

- so most of you attend school , right ? whenever you talk to the teacher , you call them by their honorific titles or speak to them with respect . or if you meet a stranger , you greet them and ask how they are. now , forget about teachers or strangers , imagine you are greeting a member of the royal family , you curtsy or bow towards them with a great amount of respect. you are a member of the royal family. every single morning , look in the mirror and tell yourself you deserve a great amount of respect and you deserve the freaking world . don't expect anybody to love you if you don't even like yourself ! look at your room. is it messy ? if so , go clean it right now because having the place where you sleep , study and lounge be messy is extremely disrespectful to yourself. not having the respect or even a frick to clean after yourself is disrespectful to you and you might not even realise it. treat yourself like you're the most precious thing in the world because honey , you are .

002 , stop being lazy + pathetic

- you may be still searching on how to stop being lazy or how to get back up. do it. I don't care if you're tired because whose fault is that ? some people can not afford to be lazy. the financially struggling can not afford to be lazy. the single parents can not afford to be lazy. the workers can not afford to be lazy. you sit around on your butt all day watching tiktok or reading tumblr blogs or whatever to do absolutely nothing. God has given you the gift of life , out of billions , you were the one to be placed on this earth and you spend your life doing nothing ? don't say you're unlucky or your life is terrible. that's absolutely pathetic. let that be your motivation. it's okay to take breaks or rest but please get back on track. only the privileged can afford to be lazy.

003 , don't follow people around - you're not a dog

- have you watched ' mean girls ' ? had you seen gretchen and karen ? did you notice how they follow regina ? don't be like them , don't waste your time , your life on following someone like they own you. don't seek someone's attention like you live off of it ; you don't ! it's also disrespectful to yourself because you're lowering yourself to the position of a dog or any other pet , following it's master to the end of their time. life is only once. use your time on something more important.

004 , idgaf

- please don't care if somebody hates or dislikes you. they are just jealous. no seriously , they spend most of their time obsessing over you and your life just to " hate on it " , they're jealous , hun. also face it , we are all going to die , life is too short to care about it , you are way more important to just worry your pretty little head on some obsessive parasite !

" so and so said this about you - " okay.

" they said this - " okay.

okay. idgaf.

005 , life is survival of the fittest

- your future matters. your teen years go way too fast and before you know it , you're already grown up. get a decent education. get to the top.

my mother always tells me I am pretty , I am smart , I have potential and I actually do. at the age of 10 she would already know what private university she would attend and she would have that as her number one goal. 5 years later , she travelled away from all of her family , her friends , her home to reach her dream ( the uni ) and she did. she knows others who have done the exact same as her who are billionaires and others who haven't who are financially struggling. throughout her parenting ( the first couple years were an extremely tough time for her ) journey , not one person , not even her bestest friends had come to our home offering gifts or money , not even for her kids. everybody else is focusing on their own families and their lifes ! if you have an opportunity , take it , like my mother had + be prepared ! because at the end of the day , in 10 years , your " friend " will not pay your rent.

006 , your mind is blind but not deaf

- your brain has no eyes of some sort that can lookout and know what's happening. whatever you tell your brain is happening , that's what it will believe , e . g ::

♡ " I'm ugly " then you'll be ugly. you'll perceive yourself as ugly.

♡ " I can't achieve anything " then you won't. you'll get nothing done in your life.

instead , tell yourself affirmations in the mirror , remind yourself that you're absolutely stunning ! it will come true !

007 , every setback is a blessing in disguise // see the bright things in everything

- now I do not care how bad something was , or how much it had impacted you , that is a blessing in disguise from God. God has your back. God is with you 24 / 7. He is greater than everything in the entire world. Don't ever erase that from your mind if something as small as not being able to go to your bestie's bday party or having strict parents. When I moved to the other side of the world , I felt like my life was over. 2 months later , I realised how toxic some of my old " friends " were and I got amazing opportunities where I live now. " When a door closes , another one opens " that is one of the most truthful sayings ever.

008 , don't wallow in your own self pity like a pig

- did you lose a competition or your partner broke up with you ? its okay to feel sad and you can cry about it but afterwards , get up. Move on. im sorry but nobody really cares. "oh my life is so unfair" so is everybody else's ? Get over it , please ! you can try another competition and your ex was clearly not for you so move on. nobody will care because they have their own problems to deal with. they may say sorry or give you a pat on the back but that's it. It won't change anything. they will be a whole lot ahead of you whilst you're still in the same spot in life , wallowing in your own self pity. whether you like it or not , life moves on and nobody cares , ml ♡

009 , set boundaries

- do you not like it when someone makes fun of you or touches you in a way you don't like ? you do not have to endure that , honey ! set your boundaries and if someone breaks them , take a break / leave them ! if they cannot respect your boundaries , they don't deserve you ! ♡

010 , drop toxic people

- it doesn't matter if you've been friends with them since kindergarten , or you don't want to seem mean. drop toxic people. this includes "friends" who just talk about themselves and say things like "oh , my life sucks" all the time , put everything in a negative mood. they don't deserve you. don't ruin your mental health over someone else , ml ! ♡

sorry if I sounded mean , I'm just trying to be honest !! ♡

#mindset #thewizardliz #song jia #wonyoung #wonyoungism #raeniskaies #tips #how to #guides #jang wonyoung #girl blogger aesthetic #aesthetic #pink #pink aesthetic #how to fix your mindset #becoming that girl #wellness girl #it girl #coquette

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explorationsoftheid · 1 year ago

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Autism: A Senior Perspective

Recently there was a post on here where someone was saying how everyone automatically hates us because of our autism. How they may act nice to our face, but trash talk us once we’re out of earshot. How everyone will abuse, even kill us, because they can’t stand our autism. I replied that they were just wrong about that. That everyone doesn’t automatically hate us.

The more I thought about it though, the more I saw this was an opportunity for those of us who are older and are autistic, to share our perspectives, our experiences. I think it might help those who are young to know what we went through, how we coped, how our lives have turned out. Most importantly that it can get better.

I’ll start:

I’m 62 years old. Looking back with what I know now it’s clear that I was definitely autistic as a child. Today, my teachers would have pressed to get me tested, but in the 1970s, well autism wasn’t on anyones radar. I doubt my parents would have gone along with that anyway. They were the, “Straighten up and do what you’re supposed to”, and “Boys don’t cry” attitude so common of their generation. I had significant trouble with social interactions, I stuttered, and fought like hell to not melt down in loud and overwhelming situations. Public school was unfortunately full of those. I liked procedure and process, there was a right way and a wrong way to do things and I would get upset if someone broke ‘the rules’. I would obsess over particular subjects. Actually I drove some of my teachers nuts. They would give me a writing assignment and I would turn in a top quality report, but I would have somehow twisted what they wanted into what I wanted to write about.

High School was very confusing. People started dating and going to dances, and all that. I kept asking, only half as a joke if I had missed a class or something because it was all so strange to me. I went off to University and really did well there. My grades weren’t good, (I had to work well over full time to afford to stay in school) but I loved academia. The order, the quiet of the library, being able to study a subject that I was totally onto because I had chosen it as my major. The people I worked with, at all of my jobs, grew to understand my ‘quirks’ and were fine with them. I only wish I hadn’t had to work so much. My middling grades meant that by the time I graduated, I was mentally exhausted, and didn’t qualify for Grad School.

So, I got a job and had to move across the country. There I met someone who I have spent the succeeding 36 years with. They understand me, accept that sometimes I’m a bit odd. Sometimes I react badly to things. Sometimes I just have to say no, and they roll with that.

So I’m now approaching retirement. In the last few years I finally figured out that autism was the reason for all the trouble I’ve had over the years. I’m not lazy, or dumb, or anything like that, I’m autistic. I’m neurodivergent, and that’s the way it is. The worst time frankly was in my childhood and my teens. Since then I’ve learned how to deal with the world. I’ve found people who like me for me, people I don’t have to mask or put on an act around. I’ve found other autistic people and am not the only one anymore. I figured out what jobs suited my talents, and limitations (Retail? No! Computer Wizard or someone who makes things work in the background? Yes!) I’m approaching retirement and honestly things are going pretty well now.

So fellow Autistic Seniors, (That is to say anyone that thinks of themselves as older than most), what was your experience living your life as an autistic person? How have things turned out for you? What advice would you give to children or teens that are struggling to cope?

#autistic adult #autistic community #autism community #autism #autistic experiences #autistic #neurodivergent #autistic feels #actually autistic #autistic culture

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themarsmaiden · 3 months ago

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Accolade

Yuri x Gn!Reader

alternate universe

Summary: [Name] and Yuri have known each other since they were kids. Always competing, and now they prepare for their final year in high school. For their colleges of choice, the science fair, and in love.

Case Study 2: The Partner Punnett Square

September; Yuri’s Birthday

September had started, and the year-long project that Dante had announced a few weeks ago is finally starting.

It would be a partner project, and [Name] already had a few ideas on what them and Rui would be doing for this-

“[Name], Yuri, not so fast.” called their professor, pushing up the glasses that rested on his face. “Come here for a minute.”

Before either of them could start talking to anyone around them, they went over to where their professor was.

“You two will be working together.”

The two of them were stunned silent, he had to be kidding right? “Don’t give me that look, I warned you this would happen.” He sighs, “I’ve known you both for four years now, and every year is the same.” He organizes the stack of papers in front of him as he speaks, “Fighting, fighting, and more fighting. Now, I’m glad the both of you are showing interest in learning. It's a wonderful thing to see as a teacher, but its not wonderful when two of your students start bickering so much you can’t hear your own thoughts.”

He pulls out a sheet of paper from his desk, “So, I’m taking matters into my own hands. You two will learn to get along whether you like it or not.” He gets back to the stacks of papers in front of him, and without looking up he dismisses them, “You can go now.”

The two of them scramble to their tables, [Name] looking down and scowling at the paper in their hands that had become scrunched in their hands.

________

Rubric:

100% - Worked on by both partners, clear interest and understanding in the subject. Min. 500 word essay documenting your findings.

80% - Worked on by both partners, some understanding in the subject. Essay reaches 500 words, but barely exceeds 500

60% - Worked on by both partners, minimal understanding, no essay

40% - Not worked on by both partners, no understanding, no essay

Partner Punnentt Square

You will learn about your partner over the course of the school year, find out about their parents and genealogy and how it aligns with them today. Make punnentt squares of 4 key traits, they could be visible or mental. In your essay, both of you must understand each other thoroughly and genuinely. It must be an unbiased view on the individual.

NOTE: I understand the other students get to choose what they do, however you will not get the privilege of doing so. Consider it punishment for continuing to bicker after I told you to stop :)

________

Yuri stomps over to them, “Stop gawking over that piece of paper, follow me to my table, we must discuss the contents of our project.”

[Name] hurriedly grabs their bags and mouths, ‘Save me’ to Rui as they run over to the otherside of the lab where Yuri sat.

“Now as much as I hate you, I think we should continue working on Project: Jiro, the mysteries left to solve just cannot go untouched.” He immediately spoke, blissfully unaware of what was written on the paper in his unwilling partner’s hands.

“Yuri.”

“He has a rare genetic disease that makes it hard for him to live,” He continues on, most likely intentionally ignoring the coming calls of his voice from his rival.

“Yuri.”

“So I think we can-”

“Yuri!”

Finally their voice, now booming across the loud chatter filled room, cut him off from his train of speech. “What?” he looks down at them, annoyed and unamused. They hand him the paper, which he takes aggressively. “Project must be worked on by both partners, 500 word essay… Partner Pennett Square?! An idiot could have done this!!” he crumples the paper even further in his hands. “Am I being reduced to a little kid?”

“And this is why I don’t like you.” [Name] mutters under their breath. “What was that?” He turns to them, “You’re conceited to the point you won’t hear me over your own talking, you reduce thought out projects to kid projects because they aren’t ‘good enough’ for you, it’s annoying.”

“Get over yourself [Last Name], you’re the exact same person you just described and you know it.” He crosses his arms across his chest and scowls.

The bell dismissing the school day rings. “I do not look forward to working on this with you.” says [Name] as they walk away, grabbing their bag. “Likewise.” responds Yuri, who goes his own way from the classroom.

Thus marks the start of Case Study: The Partner Punnett Square, a year long study that will take [Name]’s sanity. On a positive, they note, it will help advance Case Study: Isami Yuri, but at what costs?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

A week later, [Name] found an email in their inbox from one Doctor Yuri Isami, it read, as follows:

_____

Dear [Name],

As much as I do not like working with vermin such as yourself, I have found it within myself to put this aside for a grade. As such I expect only greatness from a lab partner chosen to work with me, failure in living up to these expectations will face dire consequences. Fortunately I, unfortunately, have faith in your want for a good grade as well. Thus, I invite you to start working on this project as soon as possible, so with all due disrespect, you are cordially invited to my birthday bash on September 14, I expect to see you there,

Sincerely

Isami Yuri

______

They stared, eyes gaping at their computer. “If you stare any harder you’re going to burn your retinas out.” A hand is placed on the chair behind them, “Oh Haku, hi, how did you get in here?”

“You left the door wide open.” He chuckles, moving to their side to read the email they had been staring at.

Kusanagi Haku, their Step-brother after both of their mom’s divorced their husbands and got married to each other. “A birthday invitation? From Yuri? Stare away then.”

They groan, finally reacting to the email, rubbing their hand against their forehead, “I forgot that day even existed. How is it possible that a man that terrible was actually birthed, and didn’t just spawn out of the darkest pits of Tartarus in a bursting pimple of ugly goop?”

“Hey, He’s not that bad a guy, he’s just… like a worse you. I mean, Mama birthed you, and you came out just as nerdy.” He pinches their cheek between his fingers, to which they slapped away. “And mom somehow birthed you.” They pushed him aggressively, shoving him to the side, “Now please don’t compare my genius with that of monsters.”

Haku laughs, “You’re so dramatic.” There was a momentary beat of silence, “So are you going to go?”

[Name] sighs, “Do I have a choice? If I don’t at least attempt to start on this project, Dante’s going to kill me.” They slide down further into their swivel chair.

“What about the secret evil third option?”

“Haku Kusanagi! I am not failing this assignment.” They say, appalled at the fact that he may even suggest the idea of failing a major grade. How will that look to Harvard Medical? Certainly not good, especially, especially, considering the fact it was a biology project.

[Name] mentally dismissed the fact that applications would have already been due and sifted through by the time this project was over, it didn’t matter, if they weren’t Harvard material throughout their entire school year, they weren’t Harvard material at all.

“Fine, fine, but you could always not go.” He waves them off, to which they shake their head. “No, I have to go, I have to cross this hurdle for the sake of my grade.”

Haku sighs, “Whatever you say…” He raises his hands as if in defeat, “But don’t complain to me about it when you get home, I know you. Complain to Edward or that Luca boy or something.”

[Name] feels a slight flush of embarrassment flush on their cheeks, “You can go now Haku! I’ll remember your words later.” They stand up and push him out of their room. “Maybe.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The dreadfully fated day has come, September 14th, Isami Yuri’s birthday. [Name] had his case study mentally on hand for whatever interactions they might have this unfortunate day. When they arrived at the location, a decent sized house came into view. It was nothing grandeur, but it stood out for its gothic architecture compared to the relatively more modern houses that laid around it. One could only assume it had been there for a few generations already.

There was no crowd present anywhere near the house, perhaps one or two vehicles had been around but nothing more than that. [Name] always assumed Yuri had no friends, but they didn’t actually believe that was the case. However, it seems now that perhaps they had been right in that assertion.

When they walked up to the door they had been alone. They could not have work be ruined by distracting comments from Rui or Haku, and Edward was too ill to be invited out. When they knocked on the door they knew that this was it, there was no going back, they were now at Isami Yuri’s birthday party.

They were greeted by a tall boy, he loomed over them, quiet and intimidating. They had recognized his face almost instantly, Kirisaki Jiro. A boy who was technically enrolled in their school, but one no one had ever truly seen. Rumor had it that it was he who killed his brother a few years back, but [Name] knew that wasn’t the case. Mainly because their step brother had been friends with the victim, as had they been by proximity.

That’s how they knew the truth of Jiro’s mysterious disappearance, his illness. He had an autoimmune disease that made it hard for him to live normally, which left him hospitalized in a coma nearly 2 years ago.

His presence here does not surprise them in the slightest though after Yuri’s not subtle bragging on the matter of ‘reanimating’ him.

“Yuri, there’s someone here.” He calls out, not bothering to turn around towards the inside at all, choosing to continue to look down at the student in front of him instead.

Soon the man himself appeared behind Jiro, causing the taller boy to move out of the way. This allowed [Name] to get a good look at him. He wore a turquoise button down shirt that was not 100 percent button at the top, exposing just the slightest bit of his chest. Underneath his untucked shirt were a pair of black pants that matched the black shoes at his feet. Overtop it all laid the final piece of his ensemble, a white lab coat.

It was strange. It was really, really strange. They had never once seen Yuri outside of an academic environment, he always wore that nerdy sweater vest in their head. Though, if they had to guess what he’d wear in a semi formal setting, a lab coat is definitely on the list. It was nerdy and pompous, right up his alley.

A devil of a thought passed through their mind, ‘he looks good.’ A thought purposely buried far back in the depths of their subconscious. That one would never get out.

“[Name], you came.” He sounded a little surprised, as if he was not actually expecting them to come. He quickly masks his own emotions, clearing his throat, “Good, only to be expected of someone who values their grade. Now I will put aside my hatred of you for today, so please come in.”

He moves out of the way, allowing them to enter. This was still so odd. Everything about this was odd.

Yuri really was a real person, with a house, and other clothes, and a life. It was a thought that never really crossed their mind, and they’d prefer to bury it back in their mind and pretend that he secretly was Hades right hand man. Though they couldn’t do that, not here, not in his house, not with him on his birthday.

Though, they will later.

“You can set yourself down in the living room, and we can begin discussions of baseline topics for the project after Jiro leaves.” He led them into his house, there was a small hall into the living room that shared a slightly open space with a large kitchen. The inside was practically identical to the outside, gothic. Yuri Isami was not beating the Victor Frankenstein allegations he faced amongst the intellectual circles at school.

“Isn’t there anyone else here?” They ask, sitting down on a dark purple flur de lis couch. “Huh?” He stops his walking, turning his body half around. “You said that we could start once Jiro leaves, is there not anyone else here we have to wait for? Like your parents?”

He goes quiet, “No. There isn’t. Do not bring this subject up again.” His face dropped (if it could), and an awkward energy filled the space. “Okay, I won’t, sorry” They responded, with as little attitude as they could manage.

He turned back around, “Jiro, come with me to the kitchen, the cake is nearly ready, you need to decorate it.”

He walks into the space that occupied the kitchen. They could see in through the half wall that barely separated the two spaces. As Jiro fumbled around with the cake, [Name] fumbled around with what was in their hands.

A bag, it contained one notebook and a few pens and pencils, and also a small gift. It was nothing special, just a copy of Frankenstein. It was a small dig at him while also being “polite” to their host, as Haku said they should be.

They looked up after taking everything out, “Would you like help?” They ask as they see Jiro alone struggling to ice the cake. He nodded, “Sure.”

Now, they did have a problem with the fact that they offered to decorate Yuri’s cake, but they couldn’t sit there watching as a dead friend’s brother struggled alone, so they walked over into the kitchen and took the icing bag from Jiro.

“To his room.” he says blankly. They nod, “Why?”

He watches as they carefully pipe the chocolate cake with the white frosting. “He needed to grab something. Also I think he was a little uneasy with your-”

Before Jiro could spill any of Yuri’s secrets for Case Study: Isami Yuri, the man in question came back through the kitchen yelling his name. “Jiro! Do not fraternize with such speak with the enemy.”

[Name] rolls their eyes, pushing his cake away that is now very nicely decorated with a squiggly border and piped rosettes at the bottom. “I should just ruin your cake shouldn’t I?” They’re inside thought was voiced allowed in a small mumble, though one that everyone could hear.

Yuri looks over at the cake in surprise, “You’re actually capable of doing feeble tasks?” He voiced, somewhat admiring the work done to the cake. “Rui likes to bake a lot, well more like Ed likes to eat a lot of sweets. I just picked it up from that.” They say, ignoring his insult to the best of their abilities as they pick up a teal gel to write ‘happy birthday yuri’.

As much as they wanted to write something mean, they decided against it. It was for the grade, they told themself.

Oddly enough, there weren't any more scuffles between the two before Jiro left. It was possibly because the awkward boy served to mediate any arguments just on the basis of, ‘jiro’s here.’

Once he left however, things became… rough.

[Name] grabbed their pencil and sat down on the living room couch, “Let’s start on this I guess.” They opened their notebook and made a small traits chart.

Yuri clears his throat and agrees and sits down next to them, taking out his own notebook. They took turns going over simple traits like hair color, eye color and height. “What about your parents? We should start with our moms.” [Name] suggested, “What can you tell me about yours?”

Yuri stayed quiet, as if searching his mind for an answer. “No.” More silence filled the air, “No?” They asked. “No.” He stood up, setting his notebook down. “I shouldn’t bare repeating myself to someone as naive as you.”

They stood up, “That was out of nowhere??” They set their notebook down. “And this is why I don’t like you.”

Yuri turns around, “You look down on everyone else.” They walk closer to him, “What makes you say that?” They roll their eyes, “One small thing and you insult me.” They walk closer again, making him back up, they point their finger towards his chest.

“Don’t act like you’re better [Name]” He rolls his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing. “I am better, Yuri.” They take one step, “You don’t have any friends because you’re that unbearable.” Another step. “You consume yourself in your work and make it your entire personality.” Another step. “You then make yourself seem like the smartest person on earth.” Another step, “The only time I’ve seen you smile is when you’re bragging about your genius.” Another step.

“You just turned eighteen, but you’re still a child, Isami.” Suddenly the boy was against a wall looking down at them, his face hid a small amount of panic and fluster. [Name] seemed to realize their proximity and stepped away after a few too many seconds in this position.

“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate of me.” They seemed to realize everything they had been ignoring before, though they couldn’t realize why. Perhaps it was because the weight of their words was unwarranted and they finally noticed they weren’t better. Haku was right.

Yuri stayed silent and still, as if he hadn’t exactly processed what happened. They couldn’t blame him, they had just pinned him to the wall and berated him, over one sentence.

[Name] excused themself and left, leaving the copy of Frankenstein untouched and uncommented on.

At home that night they reflected and came to the conclusion that they’re resentment had just been growing the whole night and that they had just kept it in for the sake of appearances. It wasn’t something they were used to doing, and it got to them.

Still, they meant every word, and they knew it. It was just how they’ve felt this whole time. Yet? They felt bad.

The image of Yuri under their gaze, quivering almost, it portrayed him as human, not as a monster.

This would certainly cause interesting developments for both case studies regarding the man.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

A/N: The end was rushed 💔 this was already posted to ao3 :3!! The Greek mythos stuff was specifically references to the Pjo/HoO/TOA versions of the stories because I love it sm!! I kinda wanted this to be released on his birthday but no… yeah idk if there was anything else for me to say but :3

Also this was 3100 words

Masterdoc

#tokyo debunker #tkdb #tokyo debunker x reader #yuri isami #yuri isami x reader

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lahotelbellamuerte · 4 months ago

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𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗟 𝗢𝗕𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗢𝗡 - floor six. her scorching touch

series masterlist ! current: her scortching touch ! next: ! !floor under construction!

pairing; slight five x phoenix warnings; phoenix being a menace! crushes beginning to grow word count; 5.9k notes; I forgot to post this one, some pls teach me to count what the fawk LOL!

GROWING UP WITH MONEY would usually mean having a much easier life. And for the Magnolia's that was only partially true. They were able to buy their daughter a much easier time with her disability. Getting her teachers to help her heighten her other senses. Teaching her how to defend herself from those monsters who were after her.

For a long time, Phoenix hated being alive. She hated the fact that she was gifted such powerful abilities, but wouldn't be able to see. Never got to experience seeing the sunsets or the sunrises. But she couldn't blame her mother or father as her birth was a unique occasion.

Like some of the other kids in the world, she was born through a mother spontaneously. And once her mother found out a rich man was flying around the world to buy them. She did all in her power to make it so that her daughter was hidden from the man. Something deep within her felt the man was deep danger.

Ella was able to give her daughter a normal childhood, well as much as a blind child with powers could have.

After the incident on the cliff, one would think people would feel bad for Phoenix. But it seemed no one really did. It gave them more of a reason to hate her. Each and every day they found something new to torment her.

Shoving and pushing her into lockers, and walls. Calling out names in the halls, taking her cane, and glasses, and throwing them. All jokes to make her life any harder. What's worse is no one else stepped to help. Not faculty, not students, she had no one.

So after some girls had drenched her with water in the bathroom, she decided that had been it. Walking out of the school she walked and walked never looking back. Throwing her bag on the floor in anger.

"What did I do that they hate me so much?" she huffed walking further the down the road.

Hair and clothes still dripping, "It was a stupid accident! Did they think I just killed them for no reason? They beat almost to death for crying out loud," she had been talking to herself ranting.

She ran her hands through her blonde hair and sighed, "And I'm the bad guy? They were going to kill me and call in an 'accident'"

Out of frustration she stomped her foot and screamed loudly. Covering her ears and clenching her eyes shut in anger.

Somehow she didn't hear the crack in the air as she disappeared from the country she was born in. After calming down for a while she looked around, "Okay where the fuck am I?" she whispered.

Now, not to be a bore or anything, but this was the first time she had properly moved a far enough distance with her abilities. Sure her mother did her best training her, but let's be real. How is someone who has no ability going to train a girl who is blind and has the power to destroy the universe?

Yeah, exactly you don't. You hope for the best and that she isn't evil. And that she won't willingly destroy everything in existence.

Let's just say that little old Phoenix was far from home. I'm sure you remember her mentioning how she was a whole-time hopper. Well, it started at the ripe age of twelve. The first location was Yosemite forest in California. It took her about two days to get out.

Rather than being worried about her safety, this was the first time she had felt free. So she took it to be a sign and continued to jump from place to place for about 20 years.

You read that right, she was thirty years old running around fulfilling her freedom. In those years she was able to learn more about herself and her abilities. Reigning them in to be fully in control.

Learning to fight with efficiency, without breaking a sweat. And best of all to fuck around and do all the things she wanted to do.

Visting all the Disneys (California, Florida, Tokyo, France,) she enjoyed being able to use her blindness to get all the things she wanted. The real world was much kinder than her schoolmates. Going to national parks, learning new languages, well to speak them that is.

It was all fun, even when the whole Commission got on her ass about not traveling in time. She loved the chase of cat and mouse. They never won, always had to return home in a body bag.

The Commission was evil, but breaking in was one of her favorite things she ever did.

Twenty-two-year-old Phonix had dyed black hair and round black glasses on her face. Long sleeve turtle neck matched her black ankle pants. Not to forget the converse on her feet. Oddly no one questioned her as she walked right in.

They all smiled and waved calling her Eight. She hummed to herself, thinking herself more of a nine in a half. But no matter walking into the building she moved to a room that had plenty of books. The manual of some sort, shoving it in a bag she brought, then ran her fingers thorugh the spines. Then her eyebrows raised as she felt bumps on her spine.

It was braille, who would've thought? Careful to choose only the ones she needed she stuffed her bag and left the room.

"Eight where have you been?" an older woman with white hair asked.

The girl froze and smiled, "Oh you know around..." she replied.

"Are you on a mission? You have an accent, and also changed the appearance," she said gushing a little too much for her liking.

Phoenix gave a fake nervous laugh, "Oh how did you know? You are so good at your job, doing..." she paused and was silent for a while, "...Stuff."

The older woman paused and blinked for a moment, "I truly don't know what your husband sees in you," she then replied walking off in the opposite direction.

After the woman was long gone, Phoenix took a breath, "Who is this lady that I look like apparently," she mumbled walking down the halls. Waving and nodding as others greeted her, "Seems she's popular too," she grumbled at the end.

Room after room the dark-haired young adult learned new things, well using sound more than anything. Luckily this place was full of televised or voiced things, and people were way too willing to help.

When lunch rolled around, she sat on the roof of one of their buildings, with a bento box she stole from someone down there.

"You're not Eight," a very British voice says near her.

Phoenix paused in her eating, "And you know this how?" she asked then paused, "Not that I'm confirming or anything."

The Brit snorts, "You have an Australian accent that is way too natural for boring-ass American Eight to do," she starts walking closer to the young woman, "And the bag beside you has many stolen books. Some in braille, and I know blondie isn't blind."

Phoenix finished the tray of food and put it down, raising her hands, "Alright you caught me, what are you going to do?"

"The names Lila by the way," she paused, "I won't do anything, I'm just bored from all the rules sticklers."

Standing from the ground, she stuck out a hand, "I'm Phoenix."

Lila laughed, "Like the firebird?"

The Aussie nodded, "Yup the whole burn and be reborn from your ashes," she replied picking up her bag and then walking off.

"Wait I know who you are!" Lila called catching up to the girl, "You've been causing trouble all through the timeline, you're lucky they haven't sent Eight after you yet."

Phoenix turned her head and snorted, "My doppelgänger? What is she going to do?"

Lila shrugged, "She's one of the best agents in the company. Never failed a mission."

"Yikes, that means she has killer instinct aye?"

"Never hear the end of it from my mother, she says I should be more like her. But won't let me meet her," Lila replied as they began descending the stairs.

The young girl turned to Lila and pat her shoulder, "Well if she's never failed a mission that means she sticks to the rules," she started with a frown on her face, "I, on the other hand, have fun," she begins to laugh.

As they reached the bottom Lila looked over at her, "What will you do?"

"Cause a little trouble, go back to making the timeline shit. Then take a break," Phoenix said as she walked towards the main building, but stopped when Lila was following her.

"I like you, Lila, don't go into that building."

Lila paused and nodded, there was something about the Eight doppelgänger that she liked. Not a rule follower, liked to have fun, and was blind but could kick ass.

"Will I see you again?" she asked watching as the girl paused.

Turning with a smirk, "It's not the last of me you'll ever see."

And that was true. That day she watched as Phoenix walked into the building and never come out. But she did hear the fire sirens going off, then a few windows blasting sideways. Screaming and people running out. Then the bullet sounds began to ring in the burning building. She rose a brow when flashes of red could be seen through the windows.

Lila smiled at the sight, she was a badass, "Now, that's cool."

Then the Commission was let know if she was ever spotted she was to be killed on the spot.

On a spontaneous meeting with many of the field agents, one particular one rolled her eyes, "How do you lose someone? Do you even know what she looks like?"

The Handler scowled at the voice, her eyes landing on the cloudy blue eyes, "You'll know Ms. Eight," she replied with a sarcastic smile.

The blonde sighed and stood from her chair, not caring about the screeching it made. She would find this Phoenix, and end it.

I'm sure you're asking yourself, "oh god did she go and find herself?" Well, what happened was that Eight Hargreeves is the smartest person possibly to exist—until she died.

She did find herself, and almost killed her, but let me tell you the story.

Phoenix had just turned twenty-five and she celebrated with a great killing of a few Commission agents. In her defense, they were going to kill her in return. So she flipped her new hair due over her shoulder.

Well, that's at least what the hairdresser did, purple hair with a blunt fringe right above her eyebrows. With a smirk, she turned and left the alleyway, her cane clicking every step ahead of her.

But she froze as she felt someone across the streets, "Oh shit," she mumbled the turned on her heels running away from the woman she hoped never to run into.

Her cane was long forgotten as she ran, shoes clicking as she continued to run. That was until a strong force threw her onto the ground.

"Have you forgotten me, [redacted]," the woman's voice called.

Phoenix gasped at the name, "How do you know that name?" she hissed getting up fist clenched.

Eight rose a brow at the sight of the red energy emerging from her hands, so much power, "I don't want to hurt you, but why are you after the Commission?"

"Why do you care? They're going to kill me anyway, so why not win first?" She called then ran forward her fist glowing red.

The blonde dodged it grabbed onto her arm and rolled her back onto the purple-haired girl. Bringing her over to her back onto the ground.

Phoenix rolls out and stands, "and what you're going to kill me now?"

The blonde scoffs, "I could, easily," she replied running forwards and missing a beat to punch her in the face, but she dodges it. This made her smile and moved her leg up and kicked her far.

With a groan the young woman rolled far, she's strong, she thought to himself standing and her hands began to glow as she began to float in the air.

But Eight didn't wait for a second, conjuring her lasso and tying around the floating girl. Lifting her own foot in a high kick, she moved the lasso on her foot, then slammed it down, bringing the purple-haired girl onto the ground with a harsh tug.

"Jesus christ lady where did you learn to fight?" Phoenix huffed getting up, running again and this time lifting things up around her.

Eight smirked and began rolling out of the way of the flying objects. The saw came too close and straight-up punched it to pieces, "I had a father who wanted me to be perfect," she huffed and blinked away to appear behind the floating girl. Punching her back onto the ground.

Not once has the purple-haired girl landed a hit on the woman. Lila might've been right that she's lucky that she wasn't her hit. It wouldn't have been long before she was killed. Especially with how easily this woman was able to throw her around. It was like she knew what was going to happen.

Just as she was getting up Eight blinked next to her and punched her. Then again to punch her, then to kick, punch, until finally, she activated her powers, the purples, blues, and oranges, hitting her right in the stomach. Sending her through the buildings.

As her back hit the ground, Phoenix knew she barked up the wrong tree. This lady was a lot stronger than she ever thought she could be.

"I'm not strong [redacted], I am trained in what I do," her voice came her hair softly falling back onto her shoulders, "And you have a lot to live for dear child."

Getting up Phoenix sighed, "What do you know about me?" she said stumbling feeling the large crater she made on impact.

Eight shook her head, "Not much for now, but I do know some serious shit is coming, and you are going to help me fix it."

The purple-haired girl laughed, "How am I going to help you if I barely know how to fight, I bet you weren't even trying."

The blonde kneeled beside the young woman, "I may have not been trying, but I know you'll get better. Just have faith Phoenix," she replied tapping the girl's forehead.

Phoenix blinked and looked around, "What the fuck happened to me," she mumbled moving to stretch her back, hearing small cracks as she did so.

Her memory wasn't erased it was just repressed to come back later in her life, but Phoenix didn't know that of course.

Anyways, after her little birthday there, she felt inclined to learn to properly fight. Using her ability she moved thought out the world to learn all types of combat. It took her a couple of years to really get into it. She was impressed by the end of it. I mean how many blind people do you know who are blind and can fight? Don't say Matt Murdoc...

When she turned thirty, the woman decided it was time to return back home. Her parents had seen her since she left Australia all those years ago. Boy was it hard to jump back from a whole other timeline. It was weird, some kids named the Umbrella Academy were famous in the past timeline.

She was able to successfully—well kind of, return back home. Like a couple that we know, when they tried doing a large jump like that, it doesn't always go to plan. And just like them when she returned, it was back to a fourteen-year-old.

Let me quickly recap the rest. When she returned her parents were weirded out why she looked so young after so long had passed. They were able to kind of get it when she explained the situation. Even with her young age, she did the best she could. Opened a repair shop with a local bike gang.

Momma wasn't happy, but mentally her daughter was a thirty-year-old. And couldn't yell at her for the tattoos she began to collect in a quick amount of time. But was proud nonetheless.

After that, she grew to be the eighteen-year-old we met when Hargreeves changed their timeline and ended up here. Kickstarting the end of everything, and meant slowly returning the repressed memories in Phoenix's head.

I'm guessing you want to know what happened to Eight's grave? Well, I can't tell you obviously that's the whole point of the story, but what I can tell you is—she was never buried in the first place—

AS THE DUO REACHED THE END OF THE ROOM. It was clear the chimp knew who the blind girl was. He took a long drag of his cigar as he looked at her.

"You look good Phoenix," he said his face not changing in sentiment as he glanced at her.

The girl nodded holding her cane, "Pogo," she greeted.

Five looked between the two, "I don't have time to know why know each other."

Pogo looked at her partner up and down, "I won't tattoo you, I barely did hers," he said blowing out another puff of smoke as he looked over at him

"Well, I'm not here for the ink. I'm here because you and I have a mutual friend. Not the Bird, but Sir Reginald Hargreeves." Five explained hands still in pockets.

Pogo paused for a second, "Whatever he wants, I'm not interested," he said turning back around to deal with his customer.

Five frowned at his words, "I don't think you understand. I'm one of his children," he paused, "From another timeline."

At those words Pogo paused his word to turn to look at Five, "Another timeline?" he asks out loud but only chuckles.

Five looked around and notices that the large buff men were getting closer. So he motioned for the teen girl to get closer in case things were to get dirty, "As crazy as it sounds, you and I have met before he starts, "Back in 1963, when you were a diaper-wearing chimp in dire need of a manicure. I don't know if you remember, but I have a scar to prove it," he finishes and pulls his collar to show him.

Pogo finishes packing, "if what you're saying is true, I'd be talking to a man well into his sixties. Now if you'll excuse me. I've had a very long day," he finishes turning to put on his sunglasses.

As he turns everyone starts to surround them, Five moves closer to Phoenix as they do.

"Time to go back to mommy," one of the buff guys says to them.

What was accidental was one of them behind shoving the purple-haired girl. Stumbling forward her glasses slipped down her nose. Lifting her head, one of the guys made eye contact with her.

But her pale grey eyes were only like that for a second before they began glowing an eerie red. The man gasped but froze as then a stream of red energy followed the room of men.

"Excuse me, my friend and I have work to do," she replied reaching up and pushing her glasses back up her nose. They walked ahead only to stumble.

Five caught her arms as they walked out of the building where Pogo had gone, "Jesus what was that?" he asked a little frightened about how they all were held hostage without her doing much.

She shrugged and giggled, "I don't know we had to get out of there. I'm drunk so nothing serious would happen to them."

"You are never drinking again," he hissed and pulled her by the hand as they reached to see Pogo ride off.

"Hey, I need your bike, It's an emergency," he told one of the men on a bike.

The man scoffed, "Think you have me confused with someone who gives a shit," he replies and rides off.

Five sighs as he watches him go off, "Bird get behind and put your arms around me," he says and pulls her arms around his torso.

"Why—" she screams as her voice gets pitchy, her arms holding onto him tighter.

Five blinked and threw the guy off the bike, "Oh my god! A death machine!" she screams.

He turns his head with a smirk on his face, "Have you never been on a bike?"

"Idiot I can't see!" she yells arms tightly holding onto him, "I think I've become sober from this!" she yells onto his back as the wind brushes against them.

Five can't help but chuckle at her fear, not missing her arms tightly wrapped around him. So much for a girl who had just scared a room of fully grown men.

"Don't laugh! If you make us fall, I will kill you," she yelled over the wind, her arms holding him tighter if it was possible.

The teen boy's small smile didn't fall from his face, "Don't worry, I know how to ride a motorcycle," he paused still looking ahead, "You won't be dying on my watch."

Phoenix could only nod against his back, still very much afraid. The world moving in blurs of lights around her. This was the first time she decided to trust Five with her life.

Five only hoped that the ride wasn't for nothing. Feeling a little calm with the wind blowing against his face. Without thinking he moved a hand down to the smaller hands tightly wrapped around his torso. He squeezed softly, a silent way of asking if she was alright. Realizing what he had done, he sighed knowing she still hated his guts.

But his thoughts fell silent when he felt one of her own hands squeeze back at his hand. Suddenly he was acutely aware of her cheek against his back, her warm hand against his. Her thighs were close to his body, all of it feeling like she trusted him. With the thought at the back of his head, he only smiled slightly.

A couple of hours later, the sun rose high in the sky, the duo still rode past through the greenery. The two silently communicated with the squeeze of their hands. Something so intimate yet, so silent.

"Senses up Bird, we're coming up on Pogo," he told her as he tuned the bike into a pathway.

She nodded, "Thank god, I hate this death trap."

Pulling to a stop, Five kicked the stand on the side of the bike. His eyes looked around at the trailer and the woman sat on a chair reading a book. Stepping off the bike, he turned to help the girl off the bike. Taking her hand as she swings her leg over the bike.

Hand still in his, he watched her take a breath, "Well this place is full of trees huh?" she mumbled.

"I still find it odd that you can sense everything around you," he adds letting go of her hand and moving ahead to the woman sitting on the chair.

The woman looked over at the duo and rose a brow. A teen boy wearing a whole suit, while the girl had a cane in hand, blind, she thought to herself, "Can I help you?" the woman asked, putting her book down.

Five stuffed his hands in his pockets, "Need a word with Pogo," he simply said to her.

The woman looked him in the eye, "No Pogo here, pumpkin," she said using a cute little nickname.

Phoenix snorted at the pet name, "Pumpkin my ass," she muttered under her breath, not missing the harsh feeling that Five gave her a look.

He clenched his jaw and looked back at the woman, "Okay," he said and stepped forward, but stopped when the woman stood from her seat.

"So, I suggest you get your ass off my property. Before I call a truant officer," she said putting down her cigarette in hand and giving him a look.

Again the girl rolled her eyes under her glasses, "Welp that's nice for him," she says and walks forward past the two of them her cane tapping the leaves softly.

Five furrowed his eyebrows and pointed at the girl, "Why did you just let her walk past?" he asked annoyed.

"Let him through Tammy," the voice came through.

The teen gave the woman a slight smile and moved around her to follow the girl.

Phoenix climbed onto the small trailer, "Love the whole trailer," she says pointing around with her cane.

The chimp rolls his eyes as he smokes, "And you're still equally as annoying as I saw you a few years back kid," he says to the girl with the vibrant hair.

She smiles at the thought, "Awe why do you talk to your favorite friend that way?"

Five was confused, "How do you two know each other?" he asked as he moves to sit in the booth with the chimp.

Pogo sighs at the question, "Don't believe this girl is all that innocent. That place you got her from—"

Phoenix cringes, "Pogo don't—" she tries to intervene.

The chimp lifts a hand to silence her, "She's Mengie the owner of the shop back in Australia," he simply says thinking the teen boy would know what he meant.

Five snapped his neck towards the girl near them, "Your name is Mengie?" he asked in disbelief, that the name was such a big secret was Mengie.

"No you idiot," she hissed and smacked his head.

Pogo shook his head, "No, her name isn't Mengie, she's a leader of an Australian gang," he adds.

"And that's any better than it being your name?" Five adds looking again at her, but she just shrugs.

"Just tell him what you're here for," she quips, but only smiles when she hears the pistol click, so then she turns to the sink and spots a bottle of liquor. Five won't know, she thinks to herself and picks it up and drinks from it.

Pogo just takes a sip of his drink, "You must be either dumb or desperate, to find me, and have her around," he says motioning to Phoenix, "Which is it?"

Time after time, he keeps hearing that voice. Chris, Eight's dead words, and now Pogo are all ringing the bell. How powerful is Phoenix that she has people vouching for her, without trying? That it was a good thing that Reginald didn't find her.

Rather than voice the thoughts in his head, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the skin, "You tell me," he simply said.

Phoenix just cringed at the sound of the skin slapping the table. Then she shivered as she felt a powerful wave come from near the area. Who had powers that big, she thought to herself.

Pogo just picked up the skin, "That looks like my work, but I never did that tattoo," he says and throws the skin back on the table.

"Not yet, you haven't," he says, "I cut it off my 100-year-old self."

The chimp hums, "Ah, so desperate," he adds taking a sip of his drink.

"You would be too if you knew the entire universe was at stake," the boy says seriously.

Pogo takes a sharp inhale, "So it's happened," he said and unlocks the pistol, knowing he wasn't a threat. He reaches into the side of the table for something, then hands it over to Five, "Ah, here it is. Look familiar?"

Five grabs the notebook and compares it to the skin that had the tattoo.

"Reggie was obsessed with these symbols. It's a sigil. A symbol thought to have magical powers," he says as Five looks over the symbols.

Five scoffs softly, "Dad believed in science, facts. I didn't respect much about the old man, but I respected that. Hoo-ha was not his thing. It's gotta have a rational meaning," he says as he continues looking over the symbols.

"I don't know, but he referred to it as Project Oblivion," Pogo told Five not knowing much about the symbol.

Phoenix took a sharp inhale putting the bottle back down at the skink. She felt eyes on her as she did. He probably remembered the two both muttered on actual old Five's deathbed.

Five leaned closer to the chimp, "This project. I need to know more," he said one of his hands clenched tightly.

The purple-haired girl searched in her head to remember anything of what he was talking about. Oblivion...oblivion...oblivion. It was almost like a lightbulb went off in her head.

In the strange dream when she passed out at the Commission, the very adult-looking Five had said this to her.

His blue eyes trained on hers, hands on her shoulders, "Oblivion..." he had said to her.

But she needed to know the whole story, why was he talking about such a word? What was happening, and why was that version of Five in her dreams?

Pogo's voice brought her back to the present, "It was a kamikaze mission. He was preparing the Sparrow children with the expectation they might never return. That's why I gave those children all those pills, to keep them safe from him."

"Great, now Klaus got him sober, amazing honestly," she snorted taking the glass cup from Five's hand and drinking it in one go.

Pogo sighed and looked over at the girl, "Then Project Oblivion is staring again, and you are all in danger," he paused to give the now probably drunk girl a look, "But this time you have her to help you, use her wisely."

Five and Phoenix gave each other a look, "You know about my whole witch shit?" the girl slurred waving her hands around her face.

The chimp chuckled taking a sip of his drink, "Dear you're one of a kind. I don't know anyone else who is blind that is able to dodge bullets without a second thought," he muttered taking another drink.

Five took back the glass from Phoenix and poured himself a drink, taking it in one go, "I should probably get that ink. Complete the loop," he said putting the glass down.

"Are you sure?" the chimp asked looking at the teen worriedly.

The time traveler chucked, "Oh, I don't think destiny cares whether I am or not," he paused and turned over to the purple-haired girl, "Want to do the honors?"

Tammy who sat in the back cleared the table and nodded, "Bitch is cruel, ain't she?" she thinks allowed getting up from the table.

The teen girl smiles at Five, "It's your first isn't it?" she asks reaching forward to unbutton his vest.

The two face to face, "No, got a small one on my wrist courtesy of my father," he says in a much softer tone, feeling as she delicately unbuttons his vest. Then watching her manicured fingers move up to loosen his tie, "How many men have you taken ties off huh?"

Phoenix just smirked, "Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," she mumbled moving to unbutton his white button-down, she let her hands briefly brush against his chest. Before turning to Pogo, "He's all yours Pogo," she finished and moved away for the chimp.

"Let's get started then," he says and it wasn't long before his tattoo machine was buzzing and marking Five's chest.

Five couldn't help but feel guilty as Pogo began his marking. The brief tingling from Phoenix's finger still lingered on his skin. He shouldn't begin to care for her. She wasn't his wife, not the woman he promised to love forever. Yet, why was he worried as he looked at her down the bottle of liquor? Ever since they arrived he couldn't help but notice she began drinking a lot more than it looks she can handle.

After getting Tammy to take the bottle from Phoenix, and tying her to a chair. She fell asleep listening to the buzzing of Pogo's tattoo machine.

Finally, Five was able to relax and just sit until he was finished with the art piece.

Pogo's eyes never left his machine as he continued, "You care for her don't you?" he asks suddenly causing Five to sigh.

"I don't know, I guess I do. She looks so much like Eight," he then says closing his eyes and getting a glimpse of the blonde.

The chimp hums, "Well Phoenix is a good one. She may look like she doesn't care, but she does," he pauses to wipe away some of the ink, "She's gone through a lot as a kid. Don't underestimate her. She can help you."

Five nodded lightly, "Does she have a drinking problem?" he then asked.

Pogo only snorts for a problem, "A little," he says, "She's always had bad luck with drinking. Can never hold it down, but really starts to drink when something is eating at her."

The two then say nothing for the rest of the tattoo. Both of them drowned in the sound of the buzzing of the tattoo machine.

"You're all set kid," he says a few hours later, rolling his chair back and rubbing ointment on the fresh ink to set it.

Five got up from laying down and began buttoning his shirt, fixing his tie, and his vest, "Thanks Tammy for tying her down after she got a bit aggressive," he said reaching for his jacket and shrugging it on.

The woman put down her book and smiled with a slight nod, "No worries, not the first time we've had to put down the girl," she says with amusement in her voice.

The time traveler looked over at the chimp behind him with a brow raised, "I'm sorry what?"

"We've known the girl for a couple of years," he paused to light a cigarette, "She makes a mean gang leader, like I said don't underestimate her."

There was so much that he still to this day didn't understand. How is the girl that was completely wiped out from a couple of drinks? He just hoped when she did explode she was still on his side.

He just moved forward and untied her from the chair, lifting her to his shoulder. Arms securely around her thighs against his chest. Turning to face the duo in the trailer he waved, "Thanks again," he called, then went with a crack.

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #aidan gallagher #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves x oc

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