#you heard it right: we have TWO courses in our faculty or whatever you call it

[howlingday]

RWBY ReWritten:

SALEM

"Your grace, we will be approaching Atlas soon."

"..."

"Y-Your grace? Um, we will be approaching Atlas soo-"

"I heard you the first time."

"Oh, um, yes, your grace."

"Do you think I'm stupid? That I've gone blind and deaf and must be told things twice?"

"N-No, your grace! I would never-"

"Oh, are you questioning my mental faculties? That I'm in some way wrong for explaining this to you? Is that why you are still standing in my presence?"

"I... I..."

The mighty behemoth Grimm bellowed, opening its maw to the freezing air around it. The servant struggled to hold onto the internal walls of the massive Grimm whale but found himself slipping. Thankfully, there was something he could hold onto. Some leverage that would keep him from falling.

That is until the beam struck his arm. He screamed as he hurtled to his death far below. Monstra shut its maw and continued on course. A smile graced her lips. The flight to Atlas was getting so dull.

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

"Have every available specialist on site."

"Yes, General!"

"Make sure every dust-powered gun is fully stocked."

"Yes, General!"

"Schnee!" The general whirled to his lieutenant, looking her in the eyes. "The Winter Maiden-"

"Is in our custody, General." Winter swiftly responded. "Atlas will not fall."

"For both our sakes, Schnee, I hope you're right." He sighed. "How long before she arrives?"

"An hour at most, General." She followed him as he left his office. "Do you have any further orders, General?"

"Keep the Winter Maiden away from the landing zone. Evacuate all citizens to the bunkers. And as soon as Salem's forces are in our sights-"

"Fire to eliminate. Yes, General-" The was a buzz and chatter on the communications. Winter held her hand up, eyes widening. "General, sir, the east cannon battalion has opened fire, they confirm a direct hit!"

At this time, there would be a sigh of relief washing over the room. People would be cheering and celebrating a victory as the cannons were made of the highest quality dust that the Schnee Dust Company could provide, and each cannon packed enough firepower to destroy two Mountain Glenns. But the room was filled with the best and brightest of Atlas.

"Target still en route, General."

"Dammit all." He growled. "Tell East Cannon to fire again when they're ready. Do whatever it takes to destroy that Grimm!"

"Yes, General." She tapped her earpiece. "East Cannon Battalion, come in." She waited. "East Cannon Battalion, respond!" She waited less. "East Cannon-"

"Schnee." A hand landed on her shoulder. She looked to the screen ahead and shuddered in horror at what she saw.

Hundreds of dots blanketed over where East Cannon was station. The green triangle that indicated their position and communication capabilities was no longer visible. She looked to the general, who shook his head.

"Get to the Winter Maiden."

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

The landing on the east side of Atlas was anything but smooth. Between the pounding cannon fire and the obstructing hard-light shields, Monstra was almost certain to not make it. Thankfully, Salem had already planned for such obstacles, thanks in part to the genius of her servants. Anyone who failed in their tasking would have... Well, she could always use more practice.

The maw of Monstra opened just enough to allow Salem to exit and for her army to be seen inside the Grimm. It was such a lovely day, and though she was a busy woman, she could take the time to appreciate the lovely red sky overhead. When she saw a bullhead land and a familiar face step out from it, a smile spread over her face and she hurried to meet him.

"Hello, James~!" She called sweetly. He held his hand up, ordering her to stop. She gave a giggle. It was always cute when they thought they were in control.

"By order of the Atlas military," he called through a speaker device, "you are not permitted to come any further into Atlas, Mantle, or any property protected by Atlas Huntsmen Jurisdiction!"

"Oh?" She raised her brow. "You want me to leave? That's the only thing you want? Well, I can certainly do that. I'll even take my army with me!" She held up two fingers. "But I have some demands of my own." There was a long, uncomfortable quiet, the kind that only came from the meek and insubordinate, two things Atlas was infamous for.

"First," she began, "I demand the Winter Maiden. Bring her to me and I shall leave. Then, I demand the Relic of Creation, and in return, I shall take my army with me." No response still. It was starting- No, it was beyond starting and well into annoying her. Balling her fist, she walked closer. Maybe they didn't hear her? "I hate repeating myself, but I'll blame these damnable winds just this once. Give me the Winter Maiden and the-"

Black ash and white embers sprayed into the winds of Atlas. From the distance, a sniper cocked his weapon to the ready position after reloading. There was a quiet cheer held around him as they confirm the hit. The general, however, was livid.

"You foo-"

But before they could hear his reprimands, a thin beam of magic passed through his vision, striking the sniper where between the eyes and killing him instantly. The snipers around him died shortly after in the blast that followed. General Ironwood was frozen in fear.

"Really, James?" He whirled to the woman reforming, her finger still aloft from where the beam had been fired. "How rude. But for the sake of diplomacy, I will only kill half of your men."

She rushed forward, her long black dress doing nothing to slow her down. Atlas armaments roared as she was fired upon by everything from rifles to rockets. This, too, proved fruitless as smaller beams were fired from each of her fingers, killing dozens of men. General Ironwood could take this gross decimation no longer and charged the cackling witch.

"Fighting me yourself, James? Is that really how a general should command his men?" He fired into her twice, destroying both of her hands before getting close enough to strike her with his pistols. Every strike caused black ichor to spill from her body, but even as more pistol rounds were fired into her, she would not fall. If anything, it only made her cackle harder.

"I won't let you destroy Atlas!"

"It was already destroyed the moment you chose to side with them!"

"Enough!" The two looked over to see an old woman approaching with a younger woman behind her. In the old woman's hands was a long, gilded staff topped with a blue crystal. "That's enough, James. Atlas has fallen."

"Finally, someone with some sense." Salem said as her wounds began to fill themselves. "And seeing as Atlas still remains in the air, I assume you are the Winter Maiden keeping it afloat, yes?"

"Yes."

"Dammit, Schnee!" General Ironwood shouted. "I ordered you to-"

"Shut up, will you?" The Winter Maiden snarled. "Your bullheadedness is what killed this kingdom. Atlas has fallen, but there is still time before it collides with Mantle. The people have already fled for Argus. This battle is over."

"Do you hear that, James? You still have people to protect. I will grant the mercy of maintaining your dignity as you flee with your tail between your legs." She returned her attention to the Winter Maiden. "Well, shall we?"

"Wait just a moment." She glared into the red of eyes of evil. "Before we leave, I have one request."

"Oh? You think you're in a position to make demands of me?"

"Not a demand. A request from an old woman. I wish to see my granddaughter."

"Oh, a family reunion? Well, I see no reason to not reunite family. After all, I do so wish to reunite with my dearly departed husband, if only so I could wring his neck myself."

"General, sir?" Winter place a hand on his shoulder as he watched in horror as the two greatest powers of Atlas left for the same Grimm that had invaded not so long before. "It's time to go, sir. We... Atlas has fallen."

[kalmeria]

look at me, writing and sending an email in under 90 minutes! what a legend!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate. Notes: Reader gets a bit of a backstory here, with just enough concrete details to serve the plot in future chapters. Hopefully enough is kept vague for people to enjoy it. Now... Time to meet your new kids-in-law/the gremlins :) Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants

2: Uncertain Destinations

“You already know my name, as well as my fate, and I have neither threats nor demands to make of you. I am at your mercy, regrettably, with nothing more to say. Shall we consider ourselves ‘introduced’? Or is there more you wish to ask of me?” You wonder, eying ‘Alcina’ with a bored expression. It felt odd to refer to her that way, even within the confines of your mind. She had been ‘Lady Dimitrescu’ for as long as you could remember; starting with your years in the village, and continuing through your months here at the castle. One day, perhaps, you would grow used to calling her by her first name. For now, you simply hoped to focus on other matters.

“Tell me of yourself, your past. Who were you before you came here?” Alcina asks, surprising you. What did it matter, now that you were stuck here? At first you shrug, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to open yourself up to her. But before long she’s placed a hand on your shoulder, applying just enough pressure to encourage you to speak. You win this round, you think.

“Somehow I doubt you’ll find it terribly interesting. I was born in the outskirts of the village, on a small farm, just like any other. I had a pet dog, went to ‘school’ with my neighbors, and spent my weekends volunteering with the church. The only thing you might not expect is that I lived outside the village for about a decade. Traveled for a while, never really staying anywhere for terribly long. Eventually, I got tired, and so I came back to help my parents with what little property they had left,” you explain, quietly. Being vague had been intentional, considering the nature of a few details. Did she need to know why you had left? Or that you had once revered Mother Miranda?... No, because if she learned that, it would not be long before she learned that you had changed your mind years ago. Something told you that she wouldn’t appreciate your lack of faith in her mistress. “That was six months ago, roughly. Barely got to spend time with my parents before I was ‘donated’ to the staff here.”

“Not many ever leave the village. Those that do rarely, if ever, return. How particular,” Alcina replies, giving a soft hum. There’s something in her expression that tells you she’ll eventually ask you to elaborate. For now, however, she seems content to move on. Internally you sigh in relief. “I suppose this is sufficient to sate my curiosity, for the time being. Now come with me, I’d like to introduce you to my daughters, to ensure that they understand you are… off limits.” With that said she stands, once more reminding you just how small and fragile you are in comparison, before heading towards the exit. You’re nearly forced to jog in order to keep up with her long strides. As she leads you through hallways, down a flight of stairs, and past several nervous looking maidens, she slows down the slightest bit, having eventually noticed your struggle. Admittedly, that’s more kindness than you would have anticipated. Perhaps she was used to adjusting her pace for her daughters?

Whatever the reason, you do appreciate it. Still, by the time you arrive at your destination, the castle’s library, your legs are feeling the smallest bit sore. Brushing off the ache, you follow Alcina inside. Then you’re taking in the sights, having not been here before, admiring the impressive collection. Glad I’m not responsible for cleaning this place, you think as you pass by dozens of filled shelves. Before long you encounter the three daughters. They’re sitting in a semi-circle, each with their own book, though they’re quick to sit up once they spy their mother. One by one they’re smiling up at her, not even sparing you a moment’s glance. Admittedly you’re glad for that. What good could come from their attention, especially when they don’t yet know who you ‘truly’ are?

“I’m glad to see you’re all in one place, my darlings. There has been a… development, of sorts,” Alcina says, speaking in the same tone one might use to address a faculty meeting. In a less intimidating household, it would have been much harder to hold in a laugh. Was this always how she spoke to her children? For their sake, you hoped not (though the concept was amusing). Regardless, it is at this point that the daughters notice you, with one of them looking intrigued enough to send a shiver down your spine. You’re pretty sure her name is Daniela, being the only one you haven’t met before today. A toothy grin spreads on her lips, and once you make eye contact you swear that she winks at you. This literally could not be any worse, you think, unable to stop yourself from frowning.

“Does it have to do with this little thing?” Daniela purrs, taking a step towards you. Instantly both Alcina and yourself are tensing up. While your soulmate shifts in front of you, an incredibly faint rosy tint to her cheeks, all you can do is pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers.

“This ‘little thing’ is not your newest playtoy, Daniela. Rather, they are my-” she hesitates, disliking the way the word feels in her mouth- “soulmate. I expect the three of you to behave, understood? At the very most, you are allowed to prevent them from leaving the premises, but even then I expect you to remain gentle. Have I made myself clear?” Alcina asks. Now she’s not the only one blushing, as Daniela looks so embarrassed that you wonder if she’ll pass out. Maybe now you’ll think twice about flirting with everyone you meet, you think, remembering the various rumors you’ve heard about her. For a moment, part of you imagines what your relationship with her would look like, were you to continue ‘courting’ her mother. Could this be a moment you could torment her with for life? Get some cheeky revenge for all the maidens who couldn’t risk it? A lovely thought, though one soon interrupted.

“Of course, mother. We will not lay a single finger on them, unless we have no other choice. Right, sisters?” Bela replies, turning to her siblings with an expectant look. Neither of them seem terribly pleased, but they nod, each giving their own verbal affirmations. All three spend a few moments glancing you over, reevaluating you now that they know who you are, appraising your worth. It’s not hard to imagine that they all find you lacking- at least in comparison to their mother. “Are introductions in order? We’ve met before, but I hardly know anything about them. It would be… nice to properly meet the newest edition to our family.” The way Bela says the words makes you nervous, and the way Cassandra grins only worsens the feeling.

“If you desire such, I see no reason to forgo such a thing. Perhaps the three of you could give them a tour? I must return to my duties, and I doubt they have seen much of the castle, given their… former occupation,” Alcina admits, softly. Was this a confirmation that you’d no longer have to spend every day working yourself to the bone? On one hand you were somewhat relieved, but you also regretted the possible loss of your preferred coping method. Worse, were you really going to spend who knows how long with the dreaded Dimitrescu daughters? They were going to rip you to shreds, at least verbally, you were sure of it. How could you ever meet their expectations? If they were anything like their mother, you would never be enough to satisfy them. Or at least that is what you assumed.

“I’ve seen a fair bit,” you interject, awkwardly, hating the way it brings everyone’s gaze back to you. Alcina’s lips twitch, as she fights back a frown. Evidently she didn’t appreciate you countering her suggestion.

“Please, we insist,” Bela fires back, a pleasant tone covering her thinly-veiled animosity. “I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time getting to know each other. You do want to learn more about your soulmate’s children, don’t you?” Something about the way she speaks makes you want to laugh. When you smile back at her, it’s without a hint of any placating intentions, rather a dewdrop of mischief. Bold of her to assume that you wanted to make her mother happy. After all, it was clear from her phrasing that this was a ‘test’, a ruse to ‘reveal your true colors’ to Alcina. But you were as uneasy about your part in this as Bela was, neither of you finding yourself a suitable match for Alcina. Despite the way she narrows her eyes at you, her mother is smiling again, glad that she had a way to keep you occupied for the time being.

“It’s settled then,” she says, moving to give each of her daughters a kiss on top of their heads. They giggle at the affection, looking rather proud of themselves. Then she turns to you, hesitating, clearly having the instinct to give you a kiss as well. Half of you wants to stand on your tippy-toes, expectantly, wondering if she’d do it (and how flustered it would make her). Instead, you pretend not to notice, accepting the awkward shoulder pat she ends up giving you. “I will see you this evening, for dinner. Do try to enjoy yourself. But don’t forget-” she leans in until her mouth is right next to your ear, breath tickling your neck- “behave yourself. I will not tolerate any tomfoolery, understood?” Alcina does not pull away until you’ve nodded, and you do not relax until the library door has shut behind her.

Except now you’re alone with her daughters. Wonderful.

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

Dealing with finances was not, to put it simply, Alcina’s ‘favorite’ activity. Although she employed someone to handle the majority of the paperwork, she made sure to go over it herself to ensure accuracy. There were many aspects to her business, being both legitimate and illegitimate, technically. One could never be too careful about their records. After all, failing to file tax returns had taken down Al Capone, of all people. Who was to say that such a mistake, or one in a similar vein, could not damage House Dimitrescu? Certainly it wouldn’t be enough to ruin them entirely, but it could lead to certain ‘nuisances’ bothering the village. At the end of the day, Alcina cared more about the impact it would have on Mother Miranda than anything else, even the possible decline of her household.

A nasty habit, really. Few knew the extent of her self-entitled devotion to the cult leader. The only bond that ran deeper was that she had with her daughters, who meant more to her than she could ever vocalize. Even then, she viewed them as a gift from Miranda, which in turn strengthened her love for the woman. Now that love leaked into everything she did. With a flourish of her pen, she signed away some of this month’s earnings. So what if she already ‘donated’ a large portion of her income to the village and its leader? Certainly this was a way to show the level of her devotion? Certainly Miranda would take notice, eventually? Praise her for it? Take Alcina’s hand in her own, thumb caressing her skin, eyes filled with a long-sought affection?...

The sound of passing footsteps brings her back into the moment, and Alcina stares down at the mountain of paperwork she’d yet to approve. With a deep sigh she readjusts her reading glasses, sets the finished document aside, then gets back to work. A part of her mind soon starts to drift to other subjects. To you, primarily. Would your affection be easier to gain? Steadier?... But could it, in any way, compare to Miranda’s? No matter how she tries to brush the thoughts away, they nip at her heels, circling her head like vultures. Only time would give her the relief she so desperately sought.

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

“So, don’t tell me you really think you’re my mother’s soulmate, right?” Cassandra says, somewhat grumbling, as you trail behind Bela. It’s less than five minutes into the tour, with the siblings having behaved so far, focused on actually showing you around. At her words, both her sisters started walking slower. Their gazes were still locked ahead of themselves. The way they positioned themselves, however, made it clear that they were listening. “Is it some elaborate scheme, hmm? Did you spend a dozen hours with the other servants, noting every last detail about her soul mark, before copying it? Do you really think that you’ll get away with this?” Well, ‘twas good to know who the most paranoid of the three were.

“Ah, yes, it’s all a great, horrible ruse. You’ve caught me red-handed, I’m afraid,” you chime, sarcastically. A hand goes to your forehead as you fake faintness. “I’m just so desperate to be scrutinized by yourself and your mother, to have my every movement watched, to somehow be less free than I already was. I simply… cannot… believe… that you saw through my bluff.” With that you give a dramatic sigh, pausing in the hallway to give Cassandra a judgemental look. If not for Alcina’s instructions to keep you safe, you’re certain she would have beheaded you on the spot. “I’m not claiming to understand the universe’s decision. But I’m also not giving up immediately, no matter how much the three of you scare me.” At that, Bela stops in her tracks, slowly turning to you. Instinctively you go to take a step backwards, only for Cassandra to catch you, holding you in place. Next thing you know, the oldest daughter is grabbing your head, staring you right in the eyes.

“Answer one question, and maybe I’ll make sure you don’t fall victim to some tragic, unfortunate accident. Can you see yourself loving my mother?” Bela asks, more intense than you’ve ever seen her before. Despite that, you don’t tremble, swallowing your fear long enough to reply.

“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s terrifying… and beautiful. Cruel to some of the maidens I’ve met… and loving to you three. I… I don’t know if I can love her,” you admit, gulping. “But isn’t that part of the point of trying? To find out? I am going to try, for both my sake and hers, to love her. To cherish her. What more would you ask of me? I cannot tell you how the days to come will go, whether or not your mother will enjoy them, or even whether she could love me. This is not a situation you can threaten into resolving the way you want it to. So let me go, finish the tour, and give me a chance. You owe your mother that much, do you not?” Soon enough the hands keeping you in place loosen their grip, and Bela turns away with a scoff. Honestly, you can hardly believe that your little speech worked. You aren’t given much time to celebrate, however, as the sisters quickly resume their walking. Before long, Daniela is speaking up between giggles.

“I like this one already.”

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 8 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“Oh, hello there Sakura.”

She almost lost her balance when she saw her next customers. Standing beside Kakashi with her arm entangled in his was a brunette, a spitting image of Dr. Aki Nohara, a giveaway that this was her sister. Sakura’s surroundings dimmed out of focus, and her hearing became muffled as if she was submerged underwater.

“Couldn’t mistake that green eyes for anyone,” Kakashi continued. “I’ll have a caramel butterscotch with extra whipped cream – make it super heavy – and Rin –“

“That’s supposed to be my order, you dummy,” the woman replied beside him. He chuckled in fascination and tightened his hold on her arm. “Besides, you don’t like sweets.”

“You’re still on a specialized diet so allow me to eat and drink whatever you want while you stick with – “ Kakashi glanced at Sakura, and she immediately mustered a tight-lipped smile. “One iced americano in your smallest size please. Thanks, Sakura.”

She took in a deep breath, suddenly aware that she wasn’t able to acknowledge her teacher and his companion, but so many things have been running through her head – like how did he know it was her? Why was he with Rin? Did he propose already? She hasn’t even confessed yet.

Somehow, in the dragging silence in her ears, she heard Sasuke cleared his throat. That was enough to break her from the spell, and she put on her bravest mask. “Hi Kakashi-sensei. Nice of you to drop by! I’ll have your order ready in a jiffy.”

Kakashi turned around and waved lazily at Sasuke. “One of my students is here too. Are you on a red eye advance study?”

“Can’t sleep so might as well have caffeine.”

“You’re too young to have this energy.”

Rin jokingly slapped Kakashi on the arm. “You talk as if you’re old already.”

“But aren’t I?” The pair slowly drifted away to find a table, but Sakura noticed the flash of recognition when Rin took a long good look at Sasuke, but her friend stared at them like he was throwing sharp draggers.

“He looks happy,” Sakura noted as she fixed their drinks.

“I want your favorite coffee,” Sasuke quipped out of nowhere.

“There’s a thing called palpitations. It’s caramel macchiato.”

“Might do me some good while I wait for you to finish your shift.”

Sakura sighed, feeling the tiredness come upon her all of a sudden so she relented. “Just take it to-go. I want to get out of here.”

She quickly asked permission from the manager, saying she felt sick and fatigued, and with her clocking overtime in the past few weeks, her request was immediately approved without deductions. The mixed winter and spring air hit her lungs as soon as she stepped outside. Sasuke waited for her across the street, a gesture that implied she could go to him or separate ways right now. As she vied for time to decide, she took one last look through the window.

It was a foreign sight. She has never seen Kakashi’s attention torn apart from his books. Even if he was talking, there would be an open page on his side, stealing glances on passages when the conversations got boring, yet there he was, fully attuned to whatever Rin was saying with no book around him…like she was his favorite book and he enjoyed reading every letter of her.

And Sakura realized she could never be the story he would even want to pick up.

She felt the tears coming so she started her pace on the same road. Across from her, Sasuke got the signal and went the other way.

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

The last term of their second year came like a bazooka. Sakura threw herself on her pet project as a sort of coping mechanism. The announcement was done during the general assembly which did not generate the intended buzz or reaction. After all, it was a tricky topic to handle and many facets of which were still stigmatized when talked openly in public. Naruto, ever the people magnet, broke the agitated atmosphere in the auditorium with a slow clap and was soon joined by many others.

The council created a Google form which allowed students to anonymously register, and they get assigned a schedule on the day their contracted psychiatrist comes to visit. All they had to do was provide their designated client number. The council further complemented this with short programs that serve as mental health breaks for the student body. Sometimes, this would be as light as a block screening of a coming-of-age film or heavy like a conference with faculty and teachers and questions and concerns are remotely flashed.

Then came Valentines’ Day, and the council organized this some kind of literary showcase that presented the opportunity to mingle woes of personal sadness and griefs with confessions that would have been left unsaid. Naruto and Sasuke both helped in constructing the makeshift stage in the middle of the soccer field that would be used later that afternoon.

“Cookie points for my crush,” Naruto grinned as he hammered away. “Thanks for picking the poem I will be reciting tonight, grumpy. Didn’t know you were into literature.” He jokingly elbowed the raven-haired beside him, and he got a death glare in return.

“Do it properly. Look at that nail sticking out like your porcupine hair,” Sasuke grumbled. “And yes, I’m not as uncultured as you are.”

“But I still don’t understand it though.”

“Ugh, just use the internet to search its meaning, idiot.”

“Meanie!”

A fellow runner peeked into their work area and knocked on wood. “Hey Uchiha. Some girl is looking for you.” Her face expressed grimace, having done this for more than five times already within the span of an hour. If it wasn’t Sasuke, it was one of Naruto’s fan girls or boys.

Sasuke went to her and fumbled around for cash in his pocket. “Next time someone looks for us, tell them we went home for the day. Here’s money for your date later. If you have anyway.”

“Whatever grumpy.” The runner replied, still half-angry, half-frustrated, but she took the money all the same and told the girls that ‘They told me to tell you they went home for the day so shoo shoo.’

Naruto laughed at Sasuke’s successful attempt at bribery. “Look at that rich money. I wonder whether Sakura will give us chocolates.”

“Have you seen their office?” Sasuke flipped open the curtains that will be hang as backdrop. “Their desk is filled with chocolates from her admirers – platonically, romantically, whatever. Some people from other schools dropped by too. You got serious competition.”

Naruto chuckled nervously. “As if I do not know that already. Haven’t you told me before- she likes everyone and everyone likes her.”

Not really true at all now, Sasuke thought to himself. But ignorance is bliss, Naruto.

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

The three sat on the grass beside the stage, having full view of the student body listening to the reciters. Throughout the program, Sakura went through each package given to her, visibly stressed with evident signs of sleepless nights under her eyes.

“Before I forget, happy Valentine’s day you two. My council-mates told me you didn’t get any chocolates,” Sakura gave each of them a pouch of small chocolate bars. Sasuke didn’t have to guess if it was store-bought or homemade based on the cuts on her fingers.

“Sakura, stop eating. I almost gagged at the seventh chocolate,” Naruto complained. He tried to get the basket of sweets from her, but she just moved it away from his reach.

“Everything tastes bitter,” she muttered under her breath. “I need sugar. My energy can’t keep up with the countless interviews. I understand that the school board liked the exposure, but the burden falls on me. At least have a teacher back me up?”

“Heard Kakashi-sensei volunteered to accompany you in interviews?” Sasuke was too late in shutting Naruto up, but the most that question got out of Sakura was an eyebrow raise.

“I need more sweets.” She proceeded to jam the rest of the Hershey’s kisses in her mouth.

“Okay, we have a submission from Uzumaki Naruto,” the announcer said. “Shout out to our rookie MVP!” A round of applause. “And who might be the recipient of this poem? We heard through the grapevine that he hid from his admirers all day. I know several people are waiting to confess to him!”

Sasuke instructed him earlier to send the poem anonymously and address it to Sakura, but the dumbass blonde mistakenly exchanged it. He rubbed his forehead in annoyance, but he can’t bring it up right now.

“Just read the poem!” Naruto shouted on the side, clearly embarrassed now. Sakura looked up at him, genuinely curious now, and her sticky chocolate-filled mouth was on the edge of firing him questions.

“Sasuke and I sent in poems! Just to support your program, nothing really too deep into it ehe.” Naruto glanced at Sasuke with slightly widened eyes. “Right, Sasuke?”

“Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare,” the person started.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

Sakura slapped Naruto on the arm. “Didn’t know you read Shakespeare! What a romantic!”

“Isn’t it a tragedy?” Sasuke remarked, a look of disgust in his face when Sakura mindlessly offered him a toblerone. “No sweets for me.”

Sakura guffawed at Sasuke’s remark, and her laughing was a rare sight recently. She was in too deep in her student council functions that they barely see her. And when they did, she’d be a little bit closer to fatigue.

“What’s funny? Who’s Shakespeare? Let me in on the joke!”

“Let’s call on Kakashi-sensei, our very own student council advisor and youngest teacher in the university. He’ll be reciting a poem by Pablo Neruda. A man of culture, we see,” the emcee announced.

Sakura stopped laughing as soon as she heard his name. If Sasuke could glean into her thoughts, she’s probably making up excuses to escape right now.

Kakashi stood in the middle of the stage, holding an open book. “Let me just ramble on here for a bit. Neruda is a Chilean poet and a politician, but just as much as he is a revolutionary, he is a romantic and a worshipper of ideals and ordinary things. He often compared his muses to earth and nature – basic providers of our existence. It’s interesting to see. Now, this poem is what I would have wanted to say to someone who is fundamentally part of my existence, but she won’t listen to me.” Kakashi smiled even more at the onset of outburst of giggles from the students. “So you’re gonna be the audience whether you want it or not.”

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you, for your hot heart,

like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

A thundering applause followed Kakashi’s poem and random shouts of, “Drop her name sensei!” “Good luck to your love life!” “Happy for you, sensei!”

As the lights went out on the stage, Sakura fished another pouch from her vest pocket, and Sasuke knew at once that it was Kakashi’s. She popped a bar into her mouth, staring blankly ahead.

“God, it’s so bitter.” Her lips started to quiver, and she started to cry.

Naruto threw a worried glance at Sasuke, but his expression must have given something away because the blonde didn’t prod, and he looked as if all the puzzles fell into place.

Sasuke just didn’t expect to be confronted about it as soon as the program finished. He was carrying blocks of wood to the shed when Naruto dropped the question – a question he already knew the answer to.

“You like Sakura.”

Sasuke inhaled sharply and halted his steps. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stacked the wood against each other and turned to face the blonde. “Besides, shouldn’t you be worrying about exams?”

“What exams? We’re exempted from it,” Naruto bristled.

Sasuke smirked. “No, you’re not. You didn’t qualify for finals.”

“Oh shit.”

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

“What do we get in return?” Sakura asked as she munched on her bento box. Shouts of the practicing dragonboat team filtered through their space.

“But last time you volunteered!” Naruto said.

“We’re friends so my services don’t come free anymore,” she chided back.

Naruto glared at Sasuke. “If she’s not gonna do it, you’re gonna do it.”

Sasuke nonchalantly shook his head as he skimmed through Naruto’s notes. “What she said.” They weren’t notes per se, but doodles of Sasuke and Sakura and interestingly, projections of different batting stances. “I’m also not gonna forgive you with the duck butt hair.”

“But you have a duck butt hair!” Naruto crossed his arms and huffed menacingly. “Ramen?”

“Same old, same old.” Sakura finished her lunch and started to sip her cranberry juice. “Give us something new.”

“Ramen and…..karaoke?”

Sakura brightened up at the prospect. “Deal.”

“At least add snacks to your place,” Sasuke interjected. “And not just ramen. Put some nuts or fruits in your fridge.”

Naruto grumbled but raised two thumbs up in defeat. “Deal.”

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

Sasuke has thin patience when it came to teaching Naruto, Sakura observed. She didn’t know how these two managed to do the supplementary math lessons when she wasn’t a part of their group yet. She didn’t mind teaching, but Naruto’s short attention span was a devil of its own. He would be attentive to her for 15 minutes and then drowse off so Sasuke and her agreed on non-negotiables.

“No ramen break for you if you don’t finish this set of problems,” Sakura told him.

“You’re demon spawns,” Naruto cried out in defiance.

“If you don’t get a passing score on this sample test, no kani toppings for you.” Sasuke raised the stakes.

“Demon spawns,” Naruto repeated.

“You won’t call us demon spawns if you see your name on the list of passers.” Sakura started the stopwatch on her phone. “Now go.”

This took her mind off things, from Kakashi’s public confession to the blank career form hidden within the pages of her history textbook. It was a good distraction until the penultimate exams day. Naruto came in with a bandana on his forehead with FIGHTING written in the middle of it. Sasuke, as usual, breezed through it, already finished by the thirty-minute mark.

And she? Well, she liked exams. The time limit and the pressure allowed her the reprieve to shut the rest of the world out so she relished answering each number until the bell rang. It was a moment where she can focus fully on the paper in front of her, the sound of her pen scribbling, and her mind working full force to cull out the answers in her memory. Her utmost concentration on questions suspended her own questions on her feelings for a teacher, on her parents’ divorce, on her future.

When the school plastered the results on the bulletin board, she couldn’t help but release a satisfied chuckle. She turned to Sasuke who was surprisingly stoic about the results. “First place! The bonus point really helped.”

“Why should I bother with a teacher’s middle name for the bonus question?” Sasuke grumbled back. “Congrats. Stop rubbing it in my face already.”

Naruto was too busy pointing his name on the board and bragging about it to the student body, most especially the freshies. When he found them on the back of the crowd, he rushed to them and placed his arms around their shoulders “Drinks on me!!!!!”

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

“He really shouted drinks on me in the middle of the school, sauntered in here like he’s loaded, and ordered two pitchers of iced tea.” Sakura kept bringing this up since they entered the karaoke room ten minutes ago.

Naruto was preoccupied with inputting song numbers on the machine to respond to Sakura’s banters. “Technically, they’re still drinks!”

Sasuke was on the phone with the kitchen, and from what she could hear, he was ordering almost everything on the menu. When he sat down on the adjacent couch, Sakura leaned forward to him. “Are you gonna finish all of that?”

He jutted his index finger to Naruto. “No, but he will.”

The first notes of Michael Jackson’s Thriller wafted through the room, and the blonde made a quick impression of the artist’s famed moonwalk.

“Why are you opening with that?” Sakura cried out in amusement. “It’s not even Halloween!” Sasuke watched Naruto try to dance with a straight face, but she thought he was itching to face palm the whole time.

Naruto kept beckoning Sakura to join him in the middle of the room, but she was busy laughing at him and taking videos. “I’ll send these to Haru as a pick-me-up. I think this is the best remedy.”

Next was Sakura’s pick – Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle. She couldn’t contain her laughter in between verses when the two boys finally heard that she was tone deaf. Naruto joined her with the other mic, trying to drown out the off-key notes. By the bridge, Sasuke stood up with them, a glass of juice in his hand, and mouthed the words.

“You know this song!” Sakura said excitedly.

“I don’t live under a rock!” He yelled back amid the loud music.

“OOOH BABY DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT’S WORTH OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH. THEY SAY IN HEAVEN, LOVE COMES FIRST. OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH!”

“Okay who’s next?” she asked when the next number flashed on the screen. Sasuke silently took the mic from her and faced the monitor with a hand in his pants’ pocket.

Naruto gripped the mic harder when the song started. “I’ll be your second voice, grumpy!”

She immediately went to the front and started recording. “One for the road.”

“No videos, Haruno,” Sasuke warned.

“Come on, it’s my remembrance,” she whined. He wasn’t able to clap back when the lines started to move.

“Turn around…” Naruto sang.

“Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘round,” Sasuke’s baritone voice filled the room like an empty coliseum.

“The fuck. You can sing?” Sakura gasped out loud. “How can you have that voice and not sing - like you know, every day?!”’

Sasuke gestured her to stop as he belted, stoic-faced, through the chorus with Naruto singing like a slaughtered pig in the background. Sakura stopped recording and joined them for the rest of the song.

Two hours and three pitchers of orange juice later, they finally settled on the couch and munched on Naruto’s leftovers of fries, buttered chicken, nachos, and calamari. On the karaoke monitor was David Bowie singing Heroes.

“Can’t believe we’re already seniors two months from now.” He stared at the ceiling, his eyes following the tag game of disco lights. “Elections of officers will be tomorrow which means Captain Haru will be formerly stepping down.”

Sasuke reached out and shook his hand. “Good luck next captain.”

Naruto immediately pulled out from his grasp. “What do you mean next captain?”

Sakura chuckled and patted his back as assurance. “Everyone knows it’ll be you. Have you seen how your teammates look at you when you’re discussing strategies?”

In the dimness of the room, she saw the flush on Naruto’s cheeks, and she found it amusing how he cannot take compliments.

Naruto scratched the back of his head. “Well, everything is possible, right? That said, I still haven’t filled out my college form, but I’m really set on getting an athletic scholarship and eventually be part of the national team! How about you grumpy? Changed your mind yet?”

“About what?” Sakura glanced at the silent raven-haired guy beside her. To be able to see this much of him was a nice privilege.

“I’m moving away after high school.” Sasuke fiddled with his half-empty glass, his eyes trained on the slushing juice. “I already sent applications to some universities in Europe.”

“We also have good medicine programs here. I don’t get why you have to move away so far. I’m so bad with converting time zones.”

Sasuke scrunched his nose in annoyance. “Are you dumb? The schools you listed are also out of this district.”

She seemed to be moving farther and farther from their exchange. Like an outsider peeking in, she understood the frailty of the moments in front of her, and by the time the next two months set in, the stopwatch would have started running its last lap. The bonds she has made so serendipitously were in danger of being cut off by dreams. She breathed in, engulfing the noise and scent of this room, panning every color and shape assembled like supercut in her head, praying that someday if she would lose herself, she’d come back here right at this frozen memory and relive the wonderful indecisiveness of adolescence and the chance to say I don’t know without repercussions.

“Sakura to earth?” Naruto’s voice.

“Idiot. It’s earth to Sakura.” Sasuke’s voice.

She blinked fast, returning to the moment that wasn’t finished playing out yet. She quickly brushed her hands on her eyes as if something got into her eyes, hoping they don’t see the small droplets of tears that have formed. “Oh uh, I have a list of prospects, but I’m not quite sure what to take.” The form was still blank actually.

“That’s a usual problem of anyone who’s too good at everything,” Sasuke replied.

“Are you complimenting me?” I wish I was.

“Should I take it back?” He proceeded to gulp down the remnants of his glass.

The monitor suddenly turned off, indicating their time has run out. “Hey guys, for our last term, let’s make the most out of it, all right?” Naruto asked. “I’m so happy we became friends.”

“No hugging please,” Sasuke said, but it was too late. Naruto’s arms were too strong to pull away from so the two allowed him a few seconds of skinship.

Naruto’s words struck a chord in Sakura; it was a resolve she tried to form and disfigure for several months now. Before they could stand up to fix their things, Sakura blurted it out loud before her courage took the best of her.

“For our last term.” She flexed her fingers and curled them up against her palm, placing weight on her lap as she ground her fists onto it. “For our last term, I’m gonna confess to Kakashi.”

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 9

[spahhzy]

Promise.

No Fall AU. Fourth year.

*Dimension 52*

.

.

"I promise Ruby on my name and life as an Arc you'll get that dance!

Ruby sighed for the umpteenth time as the music blared in the background students all around her were dancing and having a good time.

"He'll be here Rubes" Ruby looked up and saw her sister Yang, and the rest of her team along with Team JNPR minus its leader.

"Yeah ruby Jaune-Jaune will be here he promised!" Said Nora handing Ruby some punch.

Blake put a hand on her shoulder.

"Has he ever broken a promise too you?" She said and Ruby shook her head and looked at the clock and looked down at her red dress and evil lady stil-heels.

9:00pm

The dance was almost over.

Where is he?

Yang watched her sister sit in her chair away from the crowd upset.

"Where the hell is vomit boy?!" She said and Weiss nodded while looking at her scroll trying to get ahold of junipers leader. They all did Jaune had said he was going into Vale to get nice suit for his date/dance.

"It shouldn't have taken long...you don't think he is standing her up do you?" Blake asked

"Jaune isn't like that he made a promise...and you know how he is on promises especially ones to Ruby" Weiss said defending the knight. Over the course of the school years Jaune had earned her respect for all his hard work he put on at Beacon.

"Then where is he!?" Yang said eyes going red and kicked the railing as silence fell amongst the group.

-

From another side of the auditorium Glynda and Ozpin looked on seeing everyone having a good time well...not everyone.

"It would seem that...not everyone is enjoying themselves" said Ozpin as he eyed the Rose girl sitting in her chair, the red dress clashing with the white seats.

"Ah yes...miss Rose...apparently Jaune Arc was her date no?" Glynda asked to which Ozpin nodded.

"Perhaps Mr. Arc had second doubts?" She asked and Ozpin sighed.

"I don't think he would be the type...we've seen how far he'd go for people" Ozpin said as he recalled moments over of all Jaune's deeds he's ever done for him and many of the faculty members.

Suddenly a buzzing sound came from his scroll.

Pulling it out he looks to find an incoming call from...

"The Vale General Hospital?"

-

It was now 10:30.

The dance was 30 mins from being over and still no Jaune Arc.

No calls or texts.

No one could get ahold of the arc knight.

"I'm so sorry Ruby" came the voice of her sister as she came to comfort her.

"Sigh it's alright...I...I didn't expect him to break his promise though...sure we had a fight a few weeks back" Ruby said tears pooling in her eyes.

" I love him...I really love Jaune and he said he loved me...so why isn't he here" to which Yang just hugged her sister tightly as the DJ announced it was now time for the last slow songs of the night.

-

"This isn't like our fearless leader Ren!" Nora said as she took a sip of her drink.

Weiss was still working on trying to get ahold of the dolt but still so far nothing. No one had been able to get ahold of Jaune.

Suddenly Weiss scroll beeped and her screen came to life with 'Breaking News'

"Guys come look" She said to Ren, Nora, Pyrrha and Blake as they all gathered around to see a special news report.

"This is Lisa Lavender coming with you live on the scene from downtown vale where a explosion had just taken place just a few minutes ago" said the reporter as fire and smoke were present in the background as fire fighters came storming by.

"The explosion came during a conflict with a hostage situation involving 3 armed suspects in this building or what is left of the building before it toppled down"

"The three suspects before detonating the explosion were confronted by one individual but we are getting reports that he was a Beacon student" The moment she uttered those words everyone began to have a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomachs.

"We do have video footage of the matter just before the building collapse from a near by cctv camera" she said before cutting to the video and their everyone's heart sank.

Their was Jaune, shield up and sword in hand dressed in his unbuttoned dress shirt and tux as the three individuals just looked on before pressing what looks like a button suddenly an explosion happened which showed Jaune was only knocked backwards a few feet before getting up, he looked to his right for some reason.

The camera picked up on his body glowing before the camera angle changed as suddenly a young woman was shown in the wreckage of the explosion crying out for help.

Every one was silent fear in the pit of their stomachs as they saw Jaune come to the ladies rescue able to get all the rock and debris out of the way before trying to get her somewhat stable to remove her from the situation.

Suddenly he looked up behind him as his body glowed again and he raised his shield up before suddenly mountains of rubble came crashing the CCTV cut off.

"We have reports that the lady in question after the rubble was cleared is okay! Though we do not know the status of the Beacon student in question as he neglected treatment before leaving..."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, Jaune was alive but they also realized that was why Jaune was late it was because-

"Renny look! Fearless leader!" Nora shouted in excitement as she took off with Ren and Pyrrha in tow.

Weiss immediately ran to the railing as their at the entrance was a clean, safe and alive Jaune Arc..

She looked on as Jaune rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment before Pyrrha pointed to all the way to the dance floor where the lonesome Ruby awaited.

Weiss sighed before sitting back down.

All would be well after, Arc kept his word.

-

10:45pm

He really wasn't gonna come was he...

He really was gonna break his promise....

He -

"At the special request we are now going to play a special song before tonight's end"

*play whatever special slow song you'd think Ruby and Jaune would dance to*

Ruby's eyes widened that was her's and Jaune's song but wait...

"Hey craterface..." She heard his voice as suddenly the dancefloor that had many people dancing started to thin out before finally only one person was standing their.

Jaune Arc looked at her as she stood up from her chair.

Jaune looked to his right to see Yang giving him a thumbs up of approval, he nodded before wincing a bit as he walked forward.

Ruby started walking towards him...meeting him halfway before finally they were feet apart.

"Hey..."

"Hey..."

"I'm sorry I'm late...I didn't mean to make you think I was gonna stand you up...something happened in vale took longer then I expected" Jaune said to which Ruby shook her head before reaching in and giving him a hug.

"Your here...thats what matters...its our final Beacon dance and I wanted it to be with you" She said nuzzling into his chest as Jaune chuckled.

"Then would this lovely rose accompany me to our final dance of the night?" He asked to which he felt Ruby nod as they began to sway to the sound of music.

-

Weiss joined the others as they stared at the last two on the dance floor.

"So vomit boy tanked a building falling on him while saving someone...to think I couldn't get more impressed" Yang said as she was caught up to speed on why Jaune was late.

"That's our fearless leader alright a true knight in shining armour!" Nora said happily as Ren hugged Nora as Pyrrha and Blake all looked on in happiness.

Weiss scroll rang again and she pulled it out.

It was a call from the headmaster? That got everyone's attention.

"Hello? Headmaster how can I help you?"

Before she could get an answer a scream rang out and everyone turned back to the dance floor.

-

"Glynda we must getJaune Arc immediately!"

Ozpin put away his scroll as Glynda looked at him confused.

"That boy was in a serious situation and no doubt its on the news by now but he refused help" He said as Glynda got up from her seat.

"His aura probably healed whatever damages he sustained" She tried to deduced as Ozpin shook his head.

"The young women he saved came in on the call from the General Hospital explained that he shielded her from the debris using his aura" his voice grim as he tried began scrolling in his contacts for Weiss Schnee.

"So then he is fine right? His aura saved her and him" to which Ozpin shook his head.

"His aura didn't stop everything...when the women came too she saw Jaune with a piece of-"

"Hello? Headmaster how may I help you?"

"Weiss it's of the utmost urgency yiu get to Jaune Arc and get Aura into his system now-"

But was cut off as a screamed pierced the auditorium.

-

The song played as they continued dancing.

Ruby was happy...it was everything she wanted she looked up and saw Jaune smiling down at her with tear blue eyes. It wasn't long before Jaune tilted his head down to her and she met him halfway before their lips met in a electric kiss.

Euphoria was all Ruby felt as she finally separated from the kiss and continued their dance.

"So how was that Vomit boy"

"Heh...it was...to die for" he said to her as he kept dancing as once again they tuned the world out.

Unbeknownst to Ruby...Jaune glowed brightly before his aura slowly started to shimmer away.

It wasn't a few more minutes before the song came to an end and they both stopped but continued hugging each other.

"I love you Jaune Arc...thank you for keeping your promise" Ruby said her arms still wrapped around his chest.

But Jaune said nothing.

"Hey...how about we go back to your room hmm cuddles and such?"

Jaune still said nothing and suddenly Jaune decided to lean against her becoming surprisingly heavier.

"Hey Vomitboy your too heavy for these lady stilt" She laughed but still Jaune was unresponsive and her hand started to get wet.

"Jeez Jaune were you sweating this dance your whole back is all...wet?" She looked at her right hand from behind him to find it was not sweat...but blood.

"Jaune..." she pulled her head back to look at his face and all she saw was lifeless blue eyes looking at her in a sad smile as he finally got to heavy and they both fell to the ground.

Ruby looked at him frightful as his he was facedown as blood began to pool out, soaking his tux and the dance floor.

Ruby began hyperventilating and the world seemed to slow down as she looked on at the love of her life laying down in his blood.

It was too much.

Ruby screamed.

"I promise Ruby on my name and life as an Arc you'll get that dance!"

For the 9 days of Lancaster.

Enjoy.

[hutchhitched]

The Marrow of the Story

Written by: @hutchhitched​ 

Prompt 17: Everlark enemies to lovers, a long-standing grudge (could be anything, even simple) but somehow it is discovered that Katniss is a bone marrow match for Peeta. If she doesn’t donate he will die. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone​]

Ratings/Warnings: E

A/N: I’m continuing to post the nine @everlarkficexchange prompts I took and then sat on throughout the early months of the pandemic and the world slowly ground to a halt. This is the eighth of the nine. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays. I wrote most of this a few months ago before getting stuck on some transitions. Since then, the teenage daughter of one of my closest friends has been diagnosed with B-Cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia and must undergo a bone marrow transplant this spring. As such, this story became much more personal than a prompt. I’m sure I’ve taken some liberties with the medical aspects and ethics of this story. They are intended for story-telling purposes only. K, I hope you enjoy my take on your prompt.

  “Ms. Everdeen, I need your signature,” my administrative assistant says briskly as she enters my office.

 “What’s this for?” I ask as I scribble my signature on the form.

 She takes the manila folder and hands me another, indicating that I need to sign it, too. “Maintenance orders. The library and those lockers in the freshman wing that don’t lock properly.”

 “Got it. Thanks.”

 “Oh, and you have a call waiting on line three. I told him you were busy, but…” She shrugs as she walks out of the room, and I sigh and drop down in my desk chair. It’s been a really long day.

 “Ms. Everdeen, Panem North. How can I help you?”

 A rumbly, entirely masculine voice reverberates through the line, and I wrap the phone cord around my left index finger. Even before he’s spoken three words, I’m already impatient for the call to end.

 “Ms. Everdeen. It’s Peeta Mellark. How are you today?”

 I narrow my eyes and resist the urge to slam the phone down in the receiver. Mr. Mellark is not my favorite person. He’s the principal at Panem South, my high school’s cross-town rival, and he and I have always clashed. It might be his smug arrogance when he explains his educational philosophy, or it could be the way he surveys me and then turns away in dismissal every time I see him. Whatever it is, I’ve never been able to stand him, and it’s obvious he feels the same if our interactions at every systemwide meeting and educational conference is any indication. My greatest fantasy consists of him being fired in disgrace. A close second is his forced transfer to another school—any school, so long as it’s out of state and I never have to see him again.

 “What do you want, Mellark?” I snap. I have so little patience today I’m afraid I might actually use profanity if he doesn’t hang up within ten seconds.

 “Doing that well, huh? Always good to hear a friendly voice when I have to contact you.”

 “I thought you were on medical leave,” I say with little compassion. It’s not my finest moment, I know that, but I really loathe this man.

 “I am,” he admits. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I really need your help. I know we’re not exactly friends, but—”

 “Friends?” I laugh. “Are you kidding me? I don’t even like you. There’s no way I’d be your friend. Not even if you were dying, and I had the cure.”

 Silence stretches across the line, and I cover my face at what I’ve said. The words are rather unforgivable, and I open my mouth to apologize when he says something I don’t expect to hear.

 “Well, I guess that answers my question. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

 “What question? You didn’t ask me anything,” I say, exasperated.

 He sighs heavily, and I almost throw the phone across the room. “Katniss—sorry, Ms. Everdeen—I don’t really know how to tell you this, so I’ll just ask you to check your email. I think you’ll find something there from me. It’s from my personal account, so you might have to look in your spam folder. It’ll explain everything. Have a good day.”

 And then he hangs up without even bothering to say goodbye. That complete and utter bastard hung up on me. I mean, I wanted him to leave me alone, but he could have at least had the courtesy to say goodbye before cutting off the conversation.

 I know I’m being unreasonable, but I don’t have time to deal with it at the moment. The last bell of the day is about to ring, and I hurry from my office to oversee students loading onto buses and wandering the parking lot as cars zip in and out of traffic. It’s one of the most nerve-wracking parts of my days, and I’ve almost forgotten Mr. Mellark’s phone call by the time I make it back to my office. If I’m lucky, I can finish within the hour and get home before dark. I hate it when the sunlight hours are so short the day quits before I do.

 I’m just about to shut down my computer when I remember the aggravating phone call. I consider forgetting about it and walking away, but something tells me to open my junk folder and see what that twit’s request is. And then I see it, and I want to throw up.

 Dear Ms. Everdeen,

I know we aren’t exactly friends, but I’ve always admired your ferocity and willingness to give everything you have for your students. Compassion in education isn’t hard to find, but the way you fight for your school, faculty, staff, and students has been inspiring to watch over the past few years.

I mean that. It’s not a ploy to win you over, even though I have a gigantic favor to ask of you.

You might remember that I’ve been on medical leave several times over the past few years. It’s difficult doing my job when I’m ill, so I’ve tried to hide the significance of my condition. The truth is I have a rare bone marrow disease that, without a transplant, is terminal.

Since this is not official business, I’m writing from my personal email, but the favor I’m asking does require your professional approval. With the upcoming blood drive in our district, health clinics have volunteered to be on hand to administer tests for the bone marrow registry. That would streamline the process and allow potentially myself and countless others in need of a transplant a match from someone who might not otherwise volunteer to be tested.

Please consider allowing your school to be part of this. It might save a life.

With admiration, Peeta Mellark

 ****

 Of course I end up giving approval. I’m not a monster, no matter what Mr. Mellark thinks. In good faith, I’m tested as well, and two weeks later, I get a phone call telling me I’m a match for someone in need. By a dramatic, ironic twist of fate, it’s Peeta Mellark who needs my marrow. Thankfully, I’m able to take some time to process, and it’s torture as I weigh the pros and cons.

 A few days pass before I work up the courage to call him. I haven’t heard from him since the phone call letting me know about the email. I’m sure his health takes up much of his energy, but I’m oddly saddened by his absence. I’m also angry with him, but that’s not fair. It’s not his fault that the favor he asked of me will result in me giving up a part of my body and DNA.

 “Hello?”

 “So, what is it you have exactly?” I ask and wince at how detached and unfeeling I sound. I’m anything but that. My squeezing heart is more than enough evidence to prove otherwise. Still, I’m barely holding it together. I can’t let go of the control or I might collapse, and then what?

 “Ms. Everdeen?”

 “Katniss. If you can ask me to consider donating bone marrow, then you can call me by my first name.”

 “Okay, Katniss.” There’s a long pause before he continues. He’s tentative when he finally says, “So, you decided to participate on top of allowing the clinic access to your school?”

 “I did, and I’ll repeat. What is it you have exactly?”

 The words sound just as cold the second time, and I hold my breath until he finally answers.

“I have something called aplastic anemia. I’ve had it since college. Been treating it with blood transfusions for the past decade or so,” he explains with no trace of self-pity or false bravado. His tone is pragmatic, which is almost heart-breaking considering what he’s facing. “There aren’t too many of us with AB- blood in the world, so, I don’t know. When I saw the option of getting more involvement, I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask for help. Directly, I mean. Instead of waiting for the system to work. The worst you could say was no, right?”

 “I’ve already said no to you several times,” I remind him, and he chuckles in response.

 “Yeah. You’ve fought me on every philosophical disagreement we’ve ever had.”

 “That’s because you have really stupid ideas about what works sometimes.”

 His chuckle morphs into a full-fledged laugh, and it makes my lips twitch. “You reject me with aplomb, too. Thanks for not holding back.”

 A grin quirks at the corner of my mouth. He’s funny, I realize. I guess I probably could have figured that out earlier if I’d ever bothered to listen to his words instead of merely hating him.

 “Well, you know. I’m not very good at making friends.”

 The words catch in my throat as I say them. It’s a true statement, but I hadn’t comprehended how much it bothered me until I heard them out loud. I don’t sound matter-of-fact like he does. Loneliness and sadness echo in my voice. I could take some lessons on self-pity from Peeta Mellark, apparently.

 “I’d like to be your friend,” he says softly.

 I blink away tears because my insides have melted into a very unprofessional puddle of goo. It’s a good thing we’re not interacting about anything regarding our jobs.

 “You just want my bone marrow,” I mumble, and my heart jumps at his soft chuckle.

 “Your bone marrow?”

 I inhale shakily and bite my lip. Finally, when I’ve regained a semblance of control, I answer in a quiet admission, “I’m a match.”

 “You’re my match?” His disbelief echoes across the line, and it breaks my heart to hear the trepidatious undercurrent in his tone.

 “I am.”

 “Oh…”

 “So, you want my bone marrow.”

 Silence stretches between us, and I hear rustling before he responds carefully. “I’ll start with that. We can talk about what else I’d like to have later.”

 His voice is warm and soothing, and I feel myself softening. I’ve known that I’m going to be his donor since I knew he needed me, but it feels more personal now. More like he’s my responsibility, my ally, and not my enemy.

 “Okay.”

 There’s a beat of silence, and then he asks tentatively, “Okay?”

 “Yeah. I’ll do it.”

 There’s almost no sound from his end of the line, just his breath in my ear. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking or feeling. It must be a massive amount of relief mixed with a hundred other emotions. Like me, I’m sure he hates asking for help, and to have to request it from me must have been terrible for him. I don’t want him to feel beholden. He doesn’t deserve to have to be grateful for the rest of his life just because he needs something I can willingly give.

 “Thank you,” he finally says, and the simplicity of it takes my breath away.

 I wonder exactly what it is he’s thanking me for—his life? For being willing to grant him a favor? For not being a complete bitch to him like I have been for the past three years? It’s the least I can do for someone who’s dying. I can’t be responsible for hitting him when he’s down.

 “Sure. Yeah, let me know the specifics. Or the hospital can or whatever. I’ll talk to you later.”

 I end the call before he can answer, or maybe he does and I just don’t hear it. I can’t bear to listen to his voice anymore. I don’t know how much I’m going to have to actually see him to complete this process, but I’m suddenly nervous. He’s melted me with just an email and a few phone conversations. If I’m in the same room with him, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up the façade of hating him, and I need to. I can’t afford to care about him.

 The next few weeks pass in a flurry of meetings with medical professionals and preparing for the surgery. I don’t see Peeta, and he doesn’t contact me. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll change my mind, or maybe he doesn’t have any interest in actually being my friend, after all. I don’t allow myself to think about why that disappoints me. Instead, I tell myself that he’s likely dealing with his own illness and concentrating on getting as healthy as possible so he can recover quicker following the procedure. Maybe I’m just making excuses for him, but I remind myself that making a friend isn’t why I’m doing this. He doesn’t owe me anything.

 Suddenly, it’s the day of the surgery, and I’m terrified. I haven’t ever been on anesthesia before, barely been sick, and never had an IV. Now, I’m about to go under the knife for my mortal enemy. Okay, that’s overdramatic and hyperbolic, but I’m allowed that on the morning of a procedure that will result in me being cut open and part of my hip scraped away. I comfort myself by imagining the simple pleasures I’ll indulge in afterward—an overly sugared hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, some of those cheese buns I never allow myself to buy, highlights from a hairdresser instead of a box. Surely, I deserve those after opening myself up to…

 I shut down that mode of thinking and concentrate on getting to the hospital. As nervous as I am, I manage to stop thinking and let the medical professionals do their jobs. Before I can worry about anything else, I’m on a bed and being wheeled to surgery. When I count backwards, all I see are Peeta Mellark’s deep blue eyes shining at me.

 ****

 I blink awake to a concerned gaze. My sister’s next to my bed when I wake up and greets me with a smile.

 “Hello, sleepyhead. Welcome back to the world.”

 “Little Duck,” I slur with a lazy smile. “Hiiiii!”

 “How do you feel?”

 “Very fuzzy,” I admit after a sporadic inventory of myself. “And my ass hurts.”

 “I hear that happens when somebody cuts you open. I could be wrong.”

 My bubble of laughter is almost giddy, clearly an aftereffect of the anesthesia, but I still manage to ask the really important question. “When can I go home?”

 “A few hours, I think. Outpatient surgery, for the win!”

 “I’m already thinking about how long I have to sponge bathe instead of showering. An incision on my rear end is a new one for me.”

 “I bet the guy you’re giving your marrow to would be happy to help you. He must be pretty grateful,” Prim said slyly, and I roll my eyes.

 “I’m guessing he’s more concerned about not dying, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

 “I looked him up, you know. He’s very pretty.”

 “He’s also an arrogant ass.”

 “Speaking of arrogant asses…”

 “Hey! I thought I’d gotten past being maligned by the Everdeen girls.” Gale Hawthorne’s deep bass booms from the hospital room door. “Hey, Catnip.”

 “Gale! ’S so good to see you.”

 “Well, Prim called. I thought maybe I should cut my business trip short and pay you a visit.”

 I reach for him, and he crosses to me quickly. His hand wraps around mine, and the warmth grounds me. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen my childhood best friend, and his familiarity makes me feel like I might be able to handle anything. They both keep me occupied until I’m released and then help me get settled at home. Gale and I sit on the couch and catch up while Prim makes a run for takeout.

 “I couldn’t believe it when Prim called to tell me you were doing this,” he says. “Especially not for the guy you’ve been bitching to me about for the past few years.”

 “I haven’t been—”

 “I’m going to stop you right there. You have, and we both know nobody takes up that much space in your brain unless there’s something there.”

 “There’s nothing between us,” I insist and grunt when he nudges my shoulder.

 “Then maybe you should figure out if there could be. I mean, you have a vested interest in the man. You have a lot in common professionally. He’s going to live a long life because of you. Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you were part of it.”

 “He’s in a bubble for a few months. Recovery. No germs. All that.” I’m making excuses, and he knows it. He looks at me with pity, and I want to smack him.

 “Katniss, give the guy a chance. From what you’ve told me, he’s into you. On top of the fact that he made arrangements for that massive bouquet of lilies and wildflowers over there.” He motions to the vase we brought home from the hospital. The note provides thanks for saving his life and an apology for flowers being inadequate as repayment.

 “He’s not—”

 “Give him a chance.”

 Gale’s words wash over me, and it’s like all the painful moments and deep bouts of loneliness resurface at once. No matter what’s happened between Peeta and me, I have a connection to him now that’s deeper than our usual snipping and snark. Being forced to think about him as someone with real hopes and dreams and challenges has softened me to him, but I barely know him. Why does everyone assume he wants anything more than he’s already received?

 Prim returns with food, and I’m grateful for the distraction. I promise Gale I’ll think about what he’s said as I recover, but that’s only to get him off my back. Yet, as the days pass, I can’t get Peeta Mellark out of my head. Now that I’ve saved his life, he’s got a hold on me.

 ****

 I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I expect anything from him. I’m just stopping by to see how he is, and that’s it. No expectations, no nothing. Just an attempt to make sure he’s feeling better after the transplant. I shouldn’t even be able to see him, but I called the hospital, explained the situation, and found out I’ve been approved for visiting for the past couple of weeks. Peeta must have added me to his approved list, which makes me remarkably happy. It’s been a month since the bone marrow transplant, and Peeta’s body seems to be accepting it with no problem.

 Besides, no one can fault me for checking in on a sick colleague. It’s practically expected as part of my job. Except, that’s a lie. I’m not checking on anyone else who calls into work sick, but, then again, no one else called in because they had a disease that resulted in some of my own body inserted into them.

 Which sounds dirty and definitely not what I should be thinking as I knock on his hospital door and peer into the room.

 “Katniss!” he says as his beautiful blue eyes light up. “Please, come in.”

 “I, uh… I just thought I’d check on you. Make sure my bone marrow is behaving. Not giving you any trouble.”

 Oh, hell. I sound like an idiot.

 “Doing beautifully. It’s almost like it knows it’ll be in trouble if it acts up. Must be the principal coming out in us.”

 “Behavior issues are the least favorite part of my job.”

 “Same,” he chuckles and waves me to the chair. “Sit, if you have a minute. I’d like to thank you—”

 “No,” I insist. “No, you don’t have to do that.”

 “Katniss, you saved my life,” he sighs. “The least you can do is let me thank you properly. Let me take you dinner sometime or something. In fact, yes. I need to do that. No expectations, no nothing. Just dinner.”

 I feel an uncomfortable pang in my stomach as I hear my own thoughts repeated back to me. It’s almost like he can see inside my brain, and that’s terrifying.

 “Fine,” I concede. “Dinner, but not until you’re completely recovered. I don’t want to be cause for a setback.”

 “I can handle that,” he agrees and then gives me a soft, beautiful smile so incredibly shy that it feels like he’s only ever shown it to me.

 I don’t even want to think about why I’m floating as I leave the hospital.

 ****

 It’s another few months before Peeta finally insists he’s well enough and calls and invites me to the dinner I agreed to when he was in the hospital. His recovery has been rapid, and I hear through the grapevine he’s back at work and seemingly cured. I don’t know enough about his disease to know if he’s healing faster than normal or not, but I breathe easier when I hear the news. That is, until the phone rings.

 “Katniss Everdeen. My savior,” he says when I answer.

 “Oh, please don’t,” I gulp. “I’m no savior.”

 He chuckles at my discomfort but it’s clear it’s not with any sort of malice. “Sorry. That might have been hyperbole.”

 “You think?”

 “Maybe. Maybe not. I would like to see when you’re free for dinner. You’ve put me off long enough. I demand satisfaction. I mean, my belly does. In other words, I need food, and now that I feel well enough to consume copious amounts of it, I’d really love some company as I do that. Who better than the woman who made it happen?”

 He’s so charming it makes my toes curl, which is not at all what I want. Because how am I supposed to resist that adorable smirk I know is plastered across his face when he’s sitting across the table from me and plying me with delicious food? He’s supposed to be my nemesis, and I’m not strong enough to deny him when he’s not only good and kind but also a survivor of a rare disease. I mean, that’s not even playing fair.

 “You don’t have to buy me dinner,” I start, but he interrupts before I can get any farther.

 “If I remember correctly, you agreed to this back in the hospital, and I know you always keep your word. I wore you down, and you said you’d go with me. Don’t go backing out on me now,” he chides. His tone remains light-hearted as he speaks, but I detect a hint of hurt below the surface. My willingness to concur seems important to him. Why, I’m not sure, but the last thing I want to do is break the fragile truce that had somehow emerged between us.

 “I’ve got some back to school things coming up, so my nights are pretty full,” I protest feebly, but he just waits patiently until I relent. “Fine. Next Thursday. Does that work?”

 “Of course.”

 “Don’t you have meetings, too? You haven’t resigned, and I haven’t heard about it, have you?”

 “No, nothing like that,” he laughs. “I’ve just been given stringent orders from Superintendent Crane to take it easy. My assistant principal is covering anything at night until October.”

 “Lucky you.”

 “I have a good staff,” he deflects. “Next Thursday. I’ll pick you up.”

 “No! I can meet—”

 But he’s already disconnected the call. I don’t even bother to wonder how he’ll figure out my address. I don’t put anything past him anymore. Other than the life-threatening illness, he seems to have beaten, Peeta Mellark has the best luck of anyone I’ve ever known.

 ****

 “And then I lowered my hand and answered him in the most serious tone possible. I could hardly keep a straight face because I had fake buck teeth in. The poor kid looked at me like I was insane, but he didn’t ever wear the vampire teeth in class again.”

 I can’t help myself as I giggle at Peeta’s story. I never giggle. It isn’t like me at all, but Peeta’s so funny and disarming over dinner, regaling me with story after story of strange behavior modifications he’d tried when he was an assistant principal and mostly in charge of discipline issues.

 “I’ve gotta admit,” he says ruefully, “I don’t really miss that part of the job now that I’m head principal.”

 “No, I can imagine you wouldn’t,” I agree with a smile.

 Lifting my wine glass, I look at him over the rim and take a sip of the pinot. I dreaded this dinner all week, but it’s been the highlight of a pretty rough few days. I certainly wasn’t expecting to enjoy his company so much, not even after getting to know him a little bit better during his recovery. I thought his charm might wear off at some point, but he just gets more and more disarming the longer we talk. If I didn’t know better, I might think I actually like him, but that’s ridiculous. I’m just glad to have company over dinner. That’s all this is.

 My cheeks flush when Peeta grins at me and sits back in his chair. He’s kept up a steady stream of witty repartee throughout the evening, but now he merely surveys me as the soft sounds of the dining room echo around us. It’s almost intimate.

 “I can’t tell you how much I’m enjoying this,” he finally says. “And how grateful I am for what you did for me. I know it wasn’t an easy choice, but you… You’re an amazing woman, Katniss Everdeen. I’m in your debt forever.”

 I don’t know how to answer him because I can tell he’s completely sincere. He’s not gushing or trying to butter me up. He’s genuine in his words and actions, and I’m stuck feeling guilty for treating him so poorly before his illness threw us together.

 “You really don’t have to thank me anymore,” I insist. “It’s not necessary at all. I mean, what kind of an asshole would I be if I hadn’t agreed to help you? Besides, you’re a fellow principal. Administrators unite and all that.”

 “Stop deflecting,” he said. “You did something really great, and it’s okay for you to take credit for it.”

 Flustered, I fiddle with my napkin because I don’t want to say something stupid. He has a way of making me tongue-tied that I haven’t felt since I was a teenager. “Thanks,” I manage to mumble.

 “Thank you.”

 I hesitate but finally manage to choke, “You’re welcome.”

 “I’d like to do this again. If you’re willing.”

 His voice feels like a caress, and I lift my eyes to look at him. He’s studying me, unsmiling but not frowning, and I’m struck by how handsome he is in the dimmed light. He reaches across the table and holds his hand out to me. I stare at it for several seconds before I’m willing to reach out and accept it. He gives it a squeeze.

 “How about next week? Is that too soon?”

 “I— I need to check my calendar.”

 “I already did. No school activities.”

 “Are you—”

 “I’m sure,” he insists. “Please.”

 I don’t have a good excuse for saying no, so I agree. I’m still in a daze when he pulls the car to a stop in front of my house and gets out to walk me to the door. He leans in to kiss my check, but I turn my head at just the wrong time. His lips hover millimeters from my skin, and I struggle to breathe. After what feels like an eternity, he tilts his head and brushes his mouth over mine.

 The earth skews off its axis. There’s no other way to describe what happens because my entire world rearranges itself in that brief moment. Much too soon, he’s backed down the sidewalk and waves goodbye to me from his car before pulling away.

 ****

 I’m a mess by the next Friday when Peeta picks me up again for our second dinner together. I don’t know whether to call it a date or not, but the kiss the previous week indicates it could be. The night passes much the same as the previous week. He’s charming and funny and wearing the most stunning shade of green that makes his eyes sparkle turquoise. They do things to my insides. He’s a perfect gentleman as he drives me home again, walks me to the door, and kisses me softly. The situation repeats on the third and fourth and fifth time until I’m so wound up, I’m about to lose my mind. I don’t mean to complain, but my body wants more than what he’s offering.

 I can’t tell if it’s deliberate or just really bad luck that our schedules don’t align for another few weeks. The days pass slowly without seeing him, although we do talk often. Some of his messages and emails make me smile when I read them, while others make me wonder if he’s flirting with me or simply being his usual friendly self.

 I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out what’s happening between us. The conversation I had with Gale after my surgery flits in and out of my conscious thoughts. I don’t want to open myself up. I’ve been hurt too many times in the past, but Peeta’s wonderful—smart, compassionate, funny, respectful, and supportive. He’s also got a backbone and knows how to advocate for himself and others around him. In short, he’s exactly what I’ve always desired in a partner. It scares me to death to acknowledge that I want him to be a bigger part of my life. It terrifies me to realize I can also picture him in my bed.

 Finally, we both have an evening without a work responsibility, and he asks if he can come over and make dinner when I tell him I’m simply too tired to dress up and go out to a restaurant. By the time he shows up on my doorstep with bags of groceries, my stomach’s in knots. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, it feels like we’re starting all over again.

 He looks insanely good after having filled out a little since the transplant. His broad shoulders are strong underneath the soft cotton of his salmon colored sweater, and the jeans he’s wearing hug his thighs and hips like a second skin. When he turns around so I can inadvertently check out his ass, I swoon at the sight. I want my hands on that peach so badly my fingertips tingle.

 He leans in to kiss me hello, and time stands still. He pauses once he’s broken the kiss, and we stare at each other for what feels like ages. Something’s changed. We’ve evolved. Our relationship’s grown while we’ve been apart. The air crackles with anticipation, and I’m beyond ready. Finally, he recovers and surveys me, taking in my black leggings, forest green tunic, and braid with a whistle. I flush scarlet at the flattery.

 “Good thing I have these bags to occupy my hands,” he teases, but I swallow down disappointment. He doesn’t seem that interested in touching me, and that makes me feel like howling my disapproval.

 “Maybe I should help. Give your hands a chance to…uh…stray.”

 He whips his head around to stare at me, uncertainty mixing with something I can’t quite decipher. When I don’t drop my gaze, he gulps before heading into the kitchen and tossing the food on the counter. He makes himself busy while I flit around him, unsure what to do. When he finally turns his megawatt smile on me and asks me if I’d be okay cutting vegetables, I nod eagerly. If it puts me closer to him, I’m completely game. He positions me in front of a stack of carrots, potatoes, and mushrooms and turns to his own work.

 We keep up a steady stream of chatter that grows increasingly flirtatious as the minutes pass. He brushes against me several times, and I can feel the electricity sparking between us. When he reaches over to take some of the diced potatoes, our hands brush, and we both jump.

 “Peeta,” I sigh a second before he’s pressed against me, his chest hard against mine as he cups my jaw and kisses me.

 I growl in the back of my throat at the feel of his tongue tangling with mine, and he hauls me tighter against him. He wraps my braid around his hand and tugs my head back so he can lick deeper into me. I’m shaking with desire, frantic for his hands on me. We’ve been circling each other for four years. The months since I agreed to donate my bone marrow have all been foreplay. I’m ready to give into the craving I’ve denied for far too long.

 I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. My hands tangle in his hair, and I can’t stop the wanting whimpers that fall from me. He’s just as frantic, his hands caressing everything he can reach, until they both cup my behind and squeeze.

 I realize I want to climb him like a tree. There’s no shame in admitting it. His body’s hard under his clothing, and he’s rigid as iron against my hip. When he thrusts his right hand under the waistband of my leggings, I don’t even try to stop him. Instead, I moan when his fingers stroke the patch of hair between my legs.

 “Fuck,” he gasps. “Katniss, tell me to stop if this isn’t okay. This is— You’re… You have to stop me now if you’re going to.”

 I don’t stop him. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. My limbs aren’t working other than to cling to him. My eyes roll back into my head when he breaches me. His mouth works magic while his fingers plunder and stroke. I’m begging him, my voice hoarse and broken. It’s been so very long, and I don’t have the patience to wait anymore.

 I’m pressed against the counter, my back bent as he fingers me. I don’t care about dinner or anything else except the feel of his calloused palm cupping me while he dips in and out in an uneven rhythm designed to stop me from falling over the edge too soon. His breaths are ragged, and I wrap my left leg around him to pull him closer. It also gives him better access, which he uses to his advantage.

 I’m sopping wet, squelching as he thrusts in and out, his thumb circling my clit and forcing wrecked squeals I’ve never made until experiencing the glory of Peeta Mellark finger fucking me in my own kitchen. My whole body trembles as the tension builds. I just need a release. That’s all I care about in the moment. The entire world could be exploding outside, and I wouldn’t care. He’s driving me crazy, and I don’t want to be sane. I just need him.

 “I’ve wanted this for so long, sweetheart,” he groans in my ear. “Wanted to feel you on me, hot and wet and sweet. I’ve dreamed about making you come. Imagined it so many times. Wanted to feel you fall apart because of me. You’re almost there, aren’t you, honey? I can tell you’re trying so hard not to let go. I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you.”

 I’ve abandoned all sense of propriety. I’m moaning and rutting against him. I don’t know who I am anymore, but then everything makes sense in a rush of euphoria. I come with a scream that Peeta swallows with his kiss. He holds me close, rocking me through the spasms, grounding me, and cheering me on as I quake and shudder.

 I blink as I come back to myself, but he’s there. His face comes into focus, and I give him a dopey grin that makes him chuckle. He welcomes me back with a kiss as he frees his hand. My pants are moist, and I wiggle at how uncomfortable it is. Still, I think it’s worth the discomfort. I feel like walking liquid.

 “I think we burned dinner.”

 “Don’t care,” I tell him through a kiss. “We can order pizza. Not hungry anyway.”

 “Well, I am,” he jokes as he proceeds to devour me.

 We haven’t talked. I have no idea where we stand, but that doesn’t matter. Right now, Peeta’s here, alive and well, and with me. We make sure the burners are off and then I lead him to the bedroom. I don’t ever want to let go. If I could freeze this moment, I would, but I also want to see about all the others he has left simply because fate threw us together. We’ll get to the deep stuff. For now, I’ll settle for him deep inside me.

[sleepybutwriting]

I Believe You're My Soulmate | Wakatoshi x Reader

_____

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where the first thing your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist. With the phrase you got, you always pictured your soulmate as some nerdy guy, but boy are you wrong.

_____

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I believe you’re my soulmate.”

Those were the first words you would receive from your soulmate, engraved on your wrist as a constant reminder that your true love was out there somewhere. And he was a huge fucking nerd! 

At least that’s what you had always pictured. Why else would the first words of your soulmate be so formal?

As much as you liked the idea of one day putting a face to the sentence, you never thought of finding your soulmate as a top priority. You believed that whatever happened, happened, and you would find them when you were ready. So in the meantime, you focused on you.

And along the journey of finding yourself, you always managed to learn something new. For example, you really loved to play volleyball. You first got into it when one of your friends Hinata from middle school had begged you to set for him. The more you learned about it, the more you wanted to do.

You ended up following him to Karasuno High, where you both continued your volleyball journey and joined the volleyball team. Although none of the girls on the girl’s volleyball team were as motivated as the guys one, so you would often end up sitting in and practicing with them whenever you had free time in order to get in some extra practice. 

Today, Kageyama, wanted to work more on his serving, while, Hinata wanted to work on his spike, and you wanted to practice your receives, so you all made a plan to come in early and work with each other. It was the last day before summer break so you all thought it was important to cram in as much as you could. You were at it for almost an hour when the rest of the team finally showed up.

“Before we begin today, I have some great news” Takeda stated excitedly, causing everyone to abruptly stop and focus their attention on the young faculty advisor, “It appears that a few players from our team have been offered to attend the Shiratorizawa summer volleyball camp. It’s really hard to get into and although it only lasts for a few days, it’s a wonderful learning opportunity for up and coming players to expand their skillsets. Directed more for first years.”

Everyone’s mouth dropped, eyes staring expectantly waiting for Takeda to say which of them had got in. Even you were bouncing up and down silently praying that it was you who got picked. There would be nothing you would love more than to play with the best of the best from other schools. A good chance for you to show off your skills as well as learn new ones. You’d been waiting for another chance like this ever since you had played against Nekoma and Aoba Johsai in a practice match. You needed another challenge.

“What are you waiting for? Tell us who got in!” Tanaka shouted, unable to stand the suspense.

“Yeah!” Nishinoya added, backing him up. Takeda just grinned at their impatience before continuing.

“The players from Karasuno they selected are… Y/N, from the girl’s team, and Hinata, and Tsukishima from the boys.” You and Hinata stared at each other for a second before you both shouted out in joy, high fiving each other. The rest of the team also joined you giving the three of you a ‘congrats’ while patting your guys’ backs. Tsukishima didn’t seem affected by the news, the serious look he always kept on his face never fading.

“Wow, Tsukki! This is great. Aren’t you happy?” Yamaguchi questioned him.

“I would expect them to choose someone like me. And I guess I could picture why they would pick Y/N. What she lacks in blocking, she makes up for in receiving and attacking. But what I don’t get, is why they picked a small fry like Hinata.” Tsukishima answered, obviously trying to rile him up.  But Hinata played right into his hand,  marching right over to him and beginning to argue with him on how he’s improved.

You probably would have done the same if you weren’t already used to Tsukkis cold personality. You knew he just got a kick out of getting a rise out of people and accepted it as a part of him, so it doesn’t bother you as much as it did when you first met him.

When school had finally ended for the break, you were eager to already begin camp, not wanting to wait until tomorrow. But the day had arrived sooner than you had expected. Shiratorizawa Academy wasn’t too far from Karasuno. You had passed it plenty of times when out on your team practice jogs. But you and Hinata had still made a plan to meet up halfway so you could walk in together. 

You had told Tsukki about it, but he wasn’t interested. Stating that, ‘just because we’re on the same team, doesn’t mean we actually have to show up together.’ So it was just the two of you. Both gleaming with excitement.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Hinata asked jumping up and down in place, unable to contain his excitement. With each step you took, you could also feel your smile beginning to grow.

“Of course not. How could I?”

“Me neither. Kageyama was trying to hide it, but I could tell he was jealous.” Hinata laughed, thinking back to Kageyama’s face when he heard the news. “Man, I wish we were there already.”

“Well, then why are we walking so slow? Let’s pick up the pace already.” 

“Last one there has to pick up balls next practice match?”

“Deal.” and with those final words, you both took off right towards the Academy at full speed, trying to outrace the other.

You had arrived out of breath and sweaty, nearly collapsing the second you both passed through the doors to the gym. “I win!” You both shouted at the same time. “No, I did!”  you both argued again simultaneously.

Hinata quickly looked around the gym before locking eyes with Tsukishima and calling him over. “Who do you think won?”

“You’re both losers to me, so what does it matter? And I would appreciate it if you two didn’t acknowledge me while we’re here. I’m here to learn. Not babysit.” And with that, he turned and walked away not wanting to discuss the topic further.

“Dang that was harsh.” You mumbled, watching him walk away.

“Yeah. He must not have slept much either,” Hinata joked, causing the both of you to snicker. 

The first day of camp had you all riled up. You had seen a lot of people from other schools that you had recognized, but a few people were completely new. Some you had never even heard of, but all of them were great players, even for being first years. You felt really intimidated by everyone but had no problem getting along with, and even making friends with a few of the other girls, as well as a few of the guys.

And even after you had practiced all day, some of you would continue to practice playing two on two or even three on three matches. Just depending on how many people you had gathered that day. And this day was no different. You and Hinata had even convinced Tsukki to join you in a three on three practice match against, Kindaich from Aoba Johsai, Goshiki from Shiratorizawa, and Lev from Nekoma. Hinata even decided to up the stakes by making a wager that the losers had to clean up, and buy the winners dinner.

So now you were all pretty into it. Most of the other students had headed home, but a few upperclassmen from Shiratorizawa who had watched you all practice, lingered. Goshiki had mentioned that they were keeping an eye on him to take notes and tell him what he needs to improve on, but they were a little distracting. Mostly because of how intimidating they were.

Wakatoshi, who was apparently the ace that Goshiki had planned to replace, was really tall with a muscular build. While the redhead next to him, Tendo, was only slightly shorter with a skinnier frame. You weren’t exactly put off by them, but their general presence was pressuring. Although you had never officially met them, you had seen them play and they were both incredible. Practically unstoppable. And you wanted more than anything to be on there level. So, of course, it would be a distraction to play in front of them.

But nonetheless, you were determined to win. Mostly because you were starving and really didn’t want to clean up. So you gave it your all, Hinata and Tsukki doing the same.

The game was getting close to the end, and you just needed to score two more points to win. Thinking he had this, Hinata ended up screwing up on one of his receives and sent the ball flying backwards, directly towards the two upperclassmen who had lost interest a while back and were now talking to one another ignoring the match. Until someone shouted a “lookout!” successfully grabbing both of their attention.

Before you knew it, your body was flying towards the ball in a last-ditch effort to save it and send it back towards your two teammates. You jumped as high as you could and had managed to make contact, sending it over to them perfectly, but it had all happened midair, so as soon as you hit it, you lost your form and you were now heading straight for the ground before Wakatoshi caught you, causing you to crash into his chest instead of the floor.

You were trying to wrap your head around what just happened. It all happened so gracefully and fast that you were still in a little bit of a daze. Slowly, your mind started to come back to you. And as you processed what had happened, you couldn’t help yourself as you uttered out “what is this some kind of Wattpad novel?” while laughing like crazy.

It was just so smooth, and he was like a real-life prince that it had all fit so perfectly as something out of a storybook. Wakatoshi was about to speak before Tsukki yelled over at you abruptly interrupting him before he could get a word out.

“Hey! Do you want clean up duty or something? Quit screwing around, were outnumbered here!” Tsukkishima yelled, pulling your thoughts away from the man in front of you in time to remind you that you still had a game to win. You didn’t waste another second wiggling out of his grip and darting back on the court.

Hinata ended up scoring the last point earning you a final win. The two of you high-fiving while the three losers walked away sluggishly to the supply closet to get the cleaning equipment.

“That was a great spike, Hinata!” You praised, Tsukki just rolling his eyes and mumbling an ‘it was okay.’

“Forget my spike, what even was that save you did with the ball. I mean with your reflexes, you’d make a great Libero.”

“Ooo,” you responded giving the thought a once over, “I guess it would be fun to give Noya a run for his money.”

Tsukki just laughed at your comment, like it was the funniest joke you had told all year. “You’d make a better libero if you could catch your balance after you receive the ball.”

“Tsukki you’re always so cold. When will you just admit that you’re jealous of my mad receiving skills?” You argued before a deep voice sounded, cutting your argument short. You turned around only to come face to chest with your prince charming from earlier.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Wakatoshi stated, bowing slightly at you, “but I believe you’re my soulmate.”

The two boys had the same shocked reaction as you, but they were still able to move unlike yourself. Immediately yanking their gazes to stare at your frozen form. Your brain had officially short-circuited. Here you were, staring up at this greek god, whos towering over you. He’s nothing like the nerdy kid you pictured as your soulmate. He was...better. Is that even possible?

How was it that the dream guy you pictured growing up, just seemed average when compared to your actual soulmate?

Oh, god. How long were you standing like this? You have to say something quickly. Your brain was yelling at you to respond to this man. You just kept repeating the phrase ‘say something cute.’ Hoping that something cute actually would come out and you would be able to win him over. Until finally, you managed to spit something out.

“H-hi soulmate. I’m Y/N.”

...Shit

[ppangjae]

Behold, a follow-up to barista!jaehyun

[4:50 pm] — [7:19 pm] — [8:59 pm]

You promised yourself that you were never stepping foot in the campus cafe ever again. Even if it were for Johnny’s caffeine boost or Eunha’s study sessions, you promised yourself that you would never fall within a metre from the cafe.

But of course, promises are meant to be broken. You’re a clown. You’re boo boo the fool because here you are, standing in front of the cafe in the shivering cold. A chilly breeze passes by and hits your cheeks, making your teeth clatter.

You had just finished your written exam and submitted your projects for the fall semester. But as you’re headed back to your dorm to get a nice ten hours of shut-eye, you find yourself passing by the dimly-lit cafe. It’s tempting. A warm cup of hot chocolate is tempting.

After a couple of minutes of plainly standing outside of the cafe, contemplating on whether you should just get a drink and go, you decide to do it. You muster up all the courage and you find yourself heading towards the entrance door.

Luckily enough, there are a couple of students studying inside. Even better, the man you have a massive crush on isn’t working. You sigh with relief.

“What can I get for you?”

You smile at the cashier. You assume it’s a freshman because he looks younger than you. “I’ll get a small hot chocolate, please.”

The cashier is punching in your order and asks you for your payment. You’re digging in your wallet for your coins until you hear a familiar voice. It’s a soft, low baritone voice. You feel yourself freeze. Slowly looking up, you see him. He’s coming from the back of the kitchen.

He was there the entire time? Oh no. Here’s what you do. Just pay for your drink, pick up your drink, and make a run for it. But what if you trip over? What if—

“Miss?”

You snap out of it. “R-Right! Here’s my payment. Keep the change!”

The cashier looks at you funny and puts the coins in the machine. Jaehyun seems to take notice of your presence and he nods his head at you. You probably look like a crackhead from the goofy smile you flash back at him. God, why do you have to be so embarrassing? Why? Why? Why—

“I’ll just finish up this order and I’m clocking out. Doyoung will be coming in a couple of minutes to help you during your shift.” You hear Jaehyun tell the other employee as he works on your drink.

You slowly feel your soul leave your body. Jaehyun looks like a prince. He’s effortlessly sporting a light brown turtleneck that’s tucked in a pair of black jeans.

“A small hot chocolate for you.”

You snap out of it. You squeak, “Thanks! Have a great day!”

And with that, you snatch the cup of hot chocolate and out of sheer panic, you dash out of the cafe. You click your tongue. You are so close to flinging yourself into a lake of ice cold water out of embarrassment.

You gasp and you can feel your face grow pale.

“Did I really just tell him to have a great day when it’s clearly dark outside?”

Jaehyun watches you as you rush out of the cafe. He bites back a smile. He clocks out of his shift and grabs his brown coat from the rack.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon!” He tells his co-worker before heading out the door.

A couple of metres away, he finds you walking down the sidewalk all alone. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks up to see small snowflakes falling from the sky. He speeds up his pace to catch up to you.

When he’s about a metre behind you, he clears his throat. You stop in your tracks, slowly looking over your shoulder to see him. You feel your breath hitch in your throat, quickly turning away. Should you make a run for it? Pretend like you didn’t see him there? But he clearly saw you turn around? What if—

“Y/N, right?”

Huh? You turn around. “You—You know me?”

He smiles and you swoon. He’s so handsome. He’s so nice. He’s so genuine. How could such a man exist?

“Of course!” He exclaims. “We were in the same group for freshman week, right? We also had a couple of classes together. I’ve also seen your work when our faculty worked with the art faculty.”

He knows you? He remembers you? Oh no, he probably caught you staring at him many times then. He probably even caught you admiring him. Shit—

“R-Right,” you let out an uneasy chuckle. You gesture towards your cup of hot chocolate. “The drink’s great, by the way.”

He feels his cheeks flush a light tint of pink. His ears feel warm. You seem to take notice of the light blush forming on his cheeks and your eyebrows slightly raise in surprise. Is he blushing? No, you’re probably overlooking it. It’s probably because of the cold weather. Yeah, seems just about right—

“Thanks.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, uh—I’ve been wanting to meet you since Johnny talks about you all the time.”

“You know Johnny?”

He nods his head. “We’re basketball teammates.”

Right. You completely forgot about that. How could you forget?

“Oh! Right.” You chuckle. “Sorry, I just feel a bit flustered.”

“Oh,” he frowns. “Sorry! I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable—”

“No!” You blurt out. He looks at you with surprise. “I mean—no, you’re not making me feel uncomfortable. It’s just—”

“Oh, that’s a relief.” He chuckles. “Can I be honest?”

The two of you are walking down the sidewalk, heading back to the dorms. You look up at him, allowing him to continue.

“I was curious about you because Johnny talks highly of you. I wanted to meet you. But you’re really hard to encounter.” He laughs. “That was until I saw you come into the cafe to order a drink. I thought it was an opportunity that shouldn’t be missed.”

Were you dreaming right now?

“I figured that if your drink was on the house, you’d definitely come back to the cafe. I was so sure of it. But then you didn’t come back.” He continues. “Months have passed by since. But I didn’t expect to see you again tonight.”

You gawk at him. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. He’s looking back at you with sincere eyes and you feel yourself melting. It must be the hot chocolate.

“I decided not to miss the opportunity again, so here I am.” He smiles. “Wait. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself to you.”

“You don’t need to.” You chuckle. “You’re Jung Jaehyun, the handsome part-timer—I mean the barista! Yes, you’re the barista.”

He watches you as you play it off with a nervous laugh. You finally reach the dorm building.

“I guess this is it.” He gestures to your dorm building. “It was nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I hope I can see you again.”

“Likewise,” you smile.

“I hope I can see you tomorrow afternoon at the cafe.” He avoids your gaze. He feels shy. “I’ll treat you to a free drink too, made personally by me.”

You both share a look before laughing.

“I’d like that.” You smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“And the day after that?”

You laugh. “Yes, even the day after that. But after that, no more free drinks, I am an independent woman. I can pay for my drinks too.”

“Alright, whatever you say.” He smiles and his two dimples show. Your mind blanks out. “Goodnight, Y/N. You should head inside before it gets colder.”

You nod your head. “Goodnight. You should head straight back to your dorm too! It’s getting cold.”

You wave at him, heading inside the building. You press the button to hop onto an elevator. As you wait, you turn towards the exit doors to see Jaehyun still standing there. You wave at him and he chuckles. He waves back at you.

As you hop onto the elevator, you let out a sigh of relief. Your knees give out again. If you were to tell your past self that this would be happening in the future, you wouldn’t believe it. As you trudge your way towards your dorm, you enter to find Eunha already waiting for you. She’s looking at you suspiciously. She notices the cup of hot chocolate in your hands and her eyes widen like saucers.

“No wonder!” She exclaims.

“What?” You exclaim, panicking.

“You said you were going to be back before eight. It’s nine-thirty. I was getting worried!” She scolds you. “I was wondering where you were until I heard you and Jaehyun talking outside.”

You gasp. “You heard us? You eavesdropped on us? Eunha!”

“You know, he’s still standing outside.” She grins, nodding her head towards the window. “You should take a look out the window.”

“No, I don’t want to—”

“Just do it!”

“No!” You exclaim. “I feel so embarrassed. I feel shy. You wouldn’t imagine what he told me.”

Eunha watches you shrivel up in embarrassment. You decide to hop into the shower to make yourself feel better. As you enter the bathroom, Eunha grabs her phone and starts making a phone call.

“Johnny, I think our job is done.”

“What? You’re joking, are you?”

Eunha sneakily takes a look out the window and she spots Jaehyun still standing outside of the building. He’s pumping a fist in the air, making a small celebratory dance. He barely notices Eunha spying on him.

She giggles. “Our work here is done. The two have finally met.”

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

It’s incredible how throwing together an essay for classes can make you not want to even think about words for a day. In unrelated news, I made a lot of progress in my Minecraft world, and did some graphing in the process!

Anywhos, time to get into Izuku’s first day of class and all that fun shenanigans (which might be on the Sunday before the actual first day? | April 8th/9th or sommat like that.) I’ll try to get first shots of characters when they pop up, though most show up in the next chapter I think?

[No. 5 - Smashing Into Academia]

We enter into Spring, as well as Izuku preparing to head out for school! Inko is worried about Izuku forgetting something, and I find it hilarious that she is reminding him to bring pocket tissues and a handkerchief. Family of quick criers, them. 

Izuku promises he has everything and is in a hurry to make it to class on time, but Inko holds him back one last time to tell him he looks great in his school uniform. We get a full body shot of his uniform (though from the side) and so we get the first view of the abomination he makes of his tie. Also, a small thing:

Obviously perspective makes it a bit awkward to be sure, but you can kind of see how much he’s grown over the year since the start of the series (which is hilarious to say when we’re four and a half chapters in). 

Anyways, another view of the school, which just has such an odd design in my opinion. I’m sure there’s good reasons for it or it’s based on some landmark / building I don’t know about but Hori is referencing. We next jump to Izuku rushing down a hall, looking for 1a while noting how huge the place is, while noting that less than 1 in 300 applicants get into the hero course - 36 to a grade, divided into two classes of 18. (Plus the two per class that come in from recommendations, but that gets mentioned later.)

He finds the door (which is like almost four times as tall as him), all his anxiety flaring up about how his class will be the elites from that exam, and how he hopes that ‘those scary guys’ (Katsuki and Tenya) are in the other class. 

I’m sorry I’m cackling. Poor anxious bean. He immediately gets to find out that he is, in fact, sharing a class with them both. We also get our first peek of Kaminari, Mineta and some of Ojiro! 

Knock off brand Kaminari… his hair is so fucking weird like this, I can’t even.

Anyways, Tenya is snapping at Katsuki to get his feet off the desk since it’s insulting to UA and the people who made said desk. Katuski blows him off (metaphorically) and demands to know what school Tenya is from. When Tenya offers it as well as his name, Katsuki calls him a ‘stuck up elitist’ who he should ‘blow to bits’, which has Tenya questioning whether he really wants to become a hero.

Tenya then notices Izuku, who is still peeking from the doorway and is startled when he gets noticed. He marches over and tries to introduce himself again, like he practiced this speech dozens of times in the mirror or with the begrudging aide of his older brother in the month between the exam and the first day of class or something. (Poor, poor Tensei.) Izuku cuts in long enough to mention he heard that already, and introduces himself.

Tenya pushes on with his totally-not-prepared-in-advance apology speech, declaring that Izuku had perceived the true nature of the exam while he had not, and that he’d misjudged him, before declaring Izuku the superior candidate through grit teeth. Izuku, meanwhile, thinks that he didn’t perceive anything - which in its own way proves more how he earned his spot; he didn’t rescue Ochako for points, but because he was driven to save her.

Katsuki finally notices Izuku and is not pleased, while we get a shot of the wider class and get to confirm that Aoyama, Asui, Ojiro, Shouji, Jirou, Tokoyami, Hagakure, and then Katsuki and Kaminari again- wait a fucking second.

When the fuck did their rows move around? And when did Ojiro teleport to the other side of the classroom?? What the HELL? I mean, Katsuki and Kaminari are still oriented the same against each other and could technically fit into their second noted spots, but like, I. You know what, nevermind, just assume that was an editing mistake and move on with my life.

Izuku gets spooked again when Ochako appears behind him in the doorway, with her recognizing him by his hair and as ‘the plain looking boy’, while Izuku notes her as ‘the nice girl’ and calls her cute in her uniform, which is adorable. Also, confirmation on the toe finger beans! Also, while she does have some blush marks on her cheeks, it’s not those round circle blush marks like from the anime… suppose we’ll see if those develop.

Ochako is glad he got in like Present Mic said he would, especially with that cool punch of his. Izuku is blushing up a storm and stammering out his thanks for her speaking on his behalf. While she asks how he knows that, we get to focus on Katsuki as we head into a delicious flashback about when they were congratulated on getting into UA.

Their homeroom teacher calls Izuku’s success ‘a miracle we never expected’ while giving a chuckle. This is apparently news to Katsuki, what with the look he gives to Izuku. We can see the buds just coming in on the trees outside - it is March, after all - and Katsuki’s pulled Izuku to the side and shoves him against a wall to ask what dirty tricks he used to get in, which is like. I’m impressed he thinks Izuku can somehow cheat his way into the top school. 

Katsuki logic: There's no way this guy who's just behind me in class scores and with a buttload of determination, who I saw at the entrance exam, could possibly have managed to figure out a way to defeat the robots and get in; no, he must have cheated and tricked the teachers and staff of the top school in the country, which would be arguably even harder and draw more attention than fighting the robots in the first place.

Ah, what a fucking gremlin. He goes on about how he was supposed to be the first and only, and how Izuku tore his grand plans to shreds, and how he’d told Izuku to go somewhere else.

And then! Izuku grabs his arm with both hands, and we get to see him stand up for himself once again:

Friendly reminder that, once again, Izuku is not afraid to stand up to Katsuki where it matters. Also, look at that, he does believe he earned his place in UA, and refuses to back down on becoming a hero now that he has someone who believes in him and is backing him up. God just. The shift in dynamics in this scene, where Izuku is first pushing himself as an equal and with just as much right to aim for heroics and be in UA as Katsuki. It’s fucking gorgeous. 

We return to the present as Katsuki thinks about how Izuku actually stood up to him, and how there’s something fishy about the whole thing. Meanwhile, Ochako notes that that day is entrance ceremony and guidance sessions, and wonders what their teachers will be like, while Izuku is desperately trying to hide how red his face is from having an extended conversation with a cute girl.

I don’t feel like I have anything to add, this is probably the funniest introduction we will ever get to a character. Just, the way he’s just lying there on the floor. The way the two stare at him. The way he just pulls out that jelly pouch and sucks it all down in one go. The entire class united in their ‘what the FUCK’ as he gets up while still in the sleeping bag.

Discord:

What a legend. Also, a face of regret:

Anywho, Aizawa pulls himself out of his sleeping bag while noting it took the class eight seconds to quiet down, before mentioning that time is a precious resource and that they (the class) aren’t very rational. Which I know comes as a shock when considering they’re teenagers, the most rational and logic-minded age group in existence. 

The class realizes that the hobo who walked into their class is, in fact, their teacher, while Izuku determines that he’s also a pro hero - but interestingly, he doesn’t recognize him at all. Aizawa introduces himself by his name and that he’s their homeroom teacher, which surprises all of them again. He then pulls out a school gym uniform (from the sleeping bag!) while telling them to get changed and head out to the grounds.

Wow, I really hope he recently washed and changed into a clean uniform and shoes, or else this is really, really, REALLY awkward. Hell, I mean it already is, but like. There’s dramatic and then there’s whatever the fuck is happening here.

(Honest to god, this is THE most Extra™ and Dramatic™ bastard in the entire series. I cannot even begin to explain the levels of Extra™ happening here.)

Discord:

We briefly move over to Toshinori, who’s reading the Secret Faculty Registry. Which makes me wonder how many people on the staff are actually known to be teaching there by the public. Like, we know Present Mic and Midnight have to be well known staff members, but like, how many more are kept secret? Eraserhead is obvious because he’s underground, and All Might just is not someone you can reasonably hide. But like, in the USJ, the kids are surprised to see Thirteen, so like… what’s the minimum ‘roster’ they keep for the public facing side while the rest are kept quiet so that villains don’t try to target them or the students of UA to get to them?

I mean, look at those security keypads on the doors, they probably go to a decent length to protect their staff and schedules… a shame those all can be worked around with a decay quirk.

But yeah, Toshinori notes that the UA system is like no other, with the homeroom teachers conducting - well, what leads into Aizawa’s test, but I have to wonder whether any of the other teachers have ‘extra’ little tests or showcases they do with their homerooms. Definitely nothing as extreme as Aizawa ‘Plus Extra™’ Shouta, though. Anyways, we go back to the kids in their uniforms who are being introduced to his test - which will apparently be a test of their quirks. (Also, that CURSED bootleg Tokoyami.) 

Ochako asks about the entrance ceremony and guidance sessions, and Aizawa says there’s no time to waste on it if they want to become heroes. And again, with bringing up that ‘freestyle’ educational system and how that applies to the teachers, and knowing how Nezu lives for chaos… yeah, I really have to wonder what the other classes were going through for ‘orientation’.

He then brings up the eight standard gym tests done in middle school - softball throw, standing long jump, 50-meter dash, endurance running, grip strength, side-to-side stepping, upper-body training, and seated toe touch. He notes that the country insists on prohibiting quirks in calculating averages on those records, and considers it irrational, saying that the Department of Education is procrastinating. 

Don’t you love having flashbacks in chapter 5 of the manga?

Aizawa asks Katsuki how far he could throw in middle school, to which Katsuki replies 67 meters. Aizawa throws him a softball and tells him to try it with his quirk, and that he can do whatever so long as he doesn’t leave the circle, so give it all he’s got. Katsuki stretches a bit and winds up, and just:

This is exactly the sort of nerd who would come up with the hero name he currently has. Also, I was just reminded that technically, Izuku is supposed to be ‘narrating’ all this to some unknown audience, which makes all these internal thoughts for Katsuki and others in retrospect even funnier since he had to ask them what they were doing/thinking at the time. Especially the villain stuff, like, dude, what did you do to find out this stuff? Or worse, did you make it up for dramatic effect?

Anyways, Katsuki sends that softball rocketing away, with smoke rings following in its wake. The dust from the blowback wooshes past the other students (and oof, Jirou there wincing at the noise, poor girl, being put in a class with such loud classmates); when the ball finally hits the ground and rolls to a halt, it’s still smoking. Aizawa notes the distance - 705.2 meters - and shows it off to the class while noting how it’s important to know their limits, as their first rational step to figure out what kind of heroes they’ll be.

The class gets into how awesome this is, and how great the hero course is; meanwhile, Izuku is panicking over these events he didn’t know were coming. Aizawa is silent for a moment before echoing their ‘awesome, you say’ back to them. He puts on another dramatic loom as he says that they’re aiming to be heroes after three years, and asks whether they really think it’s all fun and games. He then declares that the lowest score across all eight events will be judged hopeless and expelled, which has the whole class shouting in shock while Izuku panics more.

We briefly jump to Toshinori again, who in turn is noting that Aizawa will be nothing but trouble, as it shows the man’s codename ‘Eraserhead’ and that he’s expelled 154 students by that point. 

Back to Izuku, who is still panicking as he thinks about how he’s still all or nothing, and can’t regulate his power. Aizawa, still being a dramatic bitch, runs his hand back through his hair while declaring that the student’s fates are in UA’s hands, and welcomes them to UA’s hero course. The other students are dredging up their determination, while Izuku’s narration asks what he can do.

God, why do people not write Aizawa ‘Plus Extra™’ Shouta being so overly dramatic more often? He’s like AVPM Snape levels of dramatic. Maybe even AVPM Malfoy. 

As a sendout, from the discord:

[echoghost1]

Dark Familiarity

Word Count: 2608

For: @gottacatchghosts

Summary: Danny has been hunting ghosts for a while now. He has been ever since they ruined his life and a mysterious package arrived with everything he needed to exact his revenge.

TW: Character Death!

You can read on AO3 or down below the cut.

Danny slowly slid the window open. He knew if he went too fast it would squeak. Just as he nearly had it wide enough for him to fit through, the door behind him opened.

“Danny?” his mom called out with a hint of warning in her voice.

He sighed and slid his backpack off of his shoulder. “Yeah?” he said with as much disinterest as he could muster. Which was a lot, surprisingly.

“What are you doing?”

“Opening the window? Am I not allowed fresh air now?” he said with a scoff. Could she just hurry up with the lecture already? He was missing out on his patrols and if he waited too long that ghost girl would get all the good ones.

She crossed her arms and scowled right back at him, “Why do you need your backpack to open a window? And where’s the screen?”

“It fell out.” That was true enough. She didn’t need to know that it was because he had kicked it out about a month ago.

“And the backpack?”

“I just hadn’t taken it off yet. Anything else you want to interrogate me over?”

She sighed and all the previous agitation drained out of her, “Why are you so angry? You never used to be this angry.”

“Well, maybe it’s because my life sucks?! Did you ever think of that? Maybe moving to this terrible apartment complex at the beginning of the school year wasn’t such a great idea?”

“You know we couldn’t afford to stay in our old house after what happened.”

“Yeah, but you could have tried a little harder to find a place with a few less rats, don’t you think?”

“Daniel!”

“Or maybe this is just who I am now?” He snatched his bag off the ground and pushed the window the rest of the way up. He didn’t care if she saw anymore. He just had to get out and shoot something.

“What are you-? Get back in here this instant!” His mom yelled as he slipped out the window and stood on the fire escape.

“You don’t want me to be angry here, so I’m going out.”

“Danny please, just come back in. It’s not safe out here at night.”

He didn’t bother replying. The only words in his mind were cruel and he didn’t want to make this worse.

He took the fire escape stairs two at a time and jumped from the ladder to the dirty sidewalk below. He quickly walked a few blocks until he got to the corner store, then he slipped into the alley and put his hunter suit on.

The technology used to make the gear was so beyond what he even thought was possible. He still had yet to meet the person who had sent it to him, but it worked so well he hardly cared if he ever would.

There was a ping on his visor HUD and he couldn’t help the smirk that stretched across his features. That looked like a big one. Perfect.

===============================================

Due to him staying out much longer than necessary for ghost hunting patrols he accidentally slept through a test and got in trouble for fighting when he decided to stand up for himself for once.

Why he got in trouble for not wanting to be shoved inside his own locker for the hundredth time was beyond him.

“I can’t believe you kicked Dash in the balls.”

Oh yeah, that’s why he was in trouble.

He laughed, “Well if he hadn’t made it so easy I wouldn’t have been able to.”

“Okay, but when did you become such a badass?” Tucker asked as the two sat in the empty classroom and waited for their detention to start.

Danny just shrugged.

He hadn’t told his friends about the ghost hunting yet. He almost did, but when he heard Sam going off about ‘Ghost Rights’ he figured it would just be easier to keep it a secret.

“Well maybe tone it down next time? I thought the plan was to be geeks in school and then take over the world when we graduate college and all the dumb jocks have to work for us?”

“That may be your plan, but I don’t think I’m patient enough for that.”

Tucker rolled his eyes before quickly pocketing his phone as Mr. Lancer entered the room.

He takes his sweet time making it to his desk before looking over the files in front of him, “Tucker Foley. Repeated loitering by the girl’s locker rooms and having your phone in the classroom.” he sighed and looked at Tucker with a disapproving frown before looking at Danny’s report. “Daniel Fenton. Sleeping in class. Talking back to faculty. Fighting with other students? Mr. Fenton, I know you’re going through a rough patch right now.”

Whatever he was about to say Danny didn’t want to hear it. “Save it. If I wanted a pity party, I would have thrown one myself.”

Mr. Lancer slapped the papers back onto his desk. “I was hoping some positive reinforcement would do you some good but clearly that’s not what you want.”

“How is getting detention for standing up to bullying ‘positive reinforcement’?”

“Danny,” Tucker whispered through clenched teeth, “stop! You’re gonna make it worse.”

“What could possibly be worse?”

“Suspension! You’re suspended for the next two weeks! Hopefully, that will get your attitude back in check.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Actually, as Vice Principal, I very much can. Now, wait here while I call your parents.”

Danny clenched his fists and glared at the floor. This wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair and everything was stupid.

If he couldn’t go to school what the heck was he supposed to do all day? He certainly wasn’t going to sit around in the apartment.

===============================================

Oddly enough, news of his suspension gave his dad the idea to visit his old college friend. “Sure I haven’t seen the man in years, but I’m sure he’d love to have us. It is our 20-year reunion this year, maybe he’d like to catch up?”

“Are you going to call him first? Before you just show up?” Jazz asked looking up from her book. It was a valid question giving their dad’s tendency to just do things.

“No need! He sent this invitation just the other day. It got lost in the mail for a bit due to the move, but here it is!” he said pulling the invite out with a flourish. “Nothing like a good old road trip to put the mind at ease!”

“Wisconson? That’s at least a four-hour drive from here.”

“Yeah! It’s going to be great! Especially if we see any cool attractions on the way!” his dad continued oblivious to his daughter’s distress.

“You know, this might be a good thing for us.” his mom said as she looked over the flyer. “I’ll give him a call and see if he minds if we all come.”

“I can’t believe that you get in trouble and now I have to waste my weekend on some dumb family road trip.” Jazz grumbled mostly to herself before sticking her nose back in her book.

Danny just rolled his eyes and went to his room. Apparently, he had some packing to do.

===============================================

They ended up leaving much later than they had intended because his mom wasn’t able to get off of work any sooner than 6 ‘o clock. Because of their late departure, they had to sleep crammed into a sketchy motel. If they still had the RV they could have slept there, but that got sold with the house and all their inventions.

The sleepover did reveal some very interesting bit of news that their parents had decided to wait until the very last second to mention. Apparently, this mysterious old college friend was none other than Vlad Masters.

The name meant nothing to Danny until Jazz started going on about how he was some super successful billionaire or whatever.

That was not something he would have expected to hear.

It was made even weirder when they said he had a lab accident when they were in college that sounded an awful like it might have been his dad’s fault.

No wonder they got shut down.

Danny can’t help but wonder what his life would have been like if they had built the portal in the basement as they had wanted, instead of renting the lab space at Axion. He’d probably would have gotten hurt somehow. He’s honest with himself enough to admit that he’s clumsy and accident-prone.

Or at least he used to be.

Now he’s always ready.

===============================================

Meeting Vlad was, interesting, to say the least.

The man was both obsessed with the Green Bay Packers and also Danny’s mom.

Jazz said it was fine as long as mom said no, and she was usually right about things when it came to other people so he let it slide.

He was watching the reunion party get set up when Vlad came up beside him, “Can I have a word with you?” he asked in his smooth rich guy voice.

“Uh, sure?” Danny agreed and followed Vlad out of the room and down the hall.

They walked for a while in complete silence and just when Danny was about to say something they entered a laboratory.

“So, how is the equipment fairing? Everything working properly?” Vlad asked casually.

“Equipment?” Danny asked when the only equipment he owned was his secret ghost hunting gear.

Vlad turns to face him with a smirk Danny can’t quite place. “Yes, you’re ghost hunting equipment.”

“You know about that?”

“Who do you think gave it to you?”

Danny hesitated and realized maybe he should have looked into what Dlav Co. was after all.

“How many well-off individuals with a background in ghost studies do you think there are?” he chuckles, “Or did it not occur to you to know your benefactor?”

Danny frowned not at all liking how this guy was talking. “If you wanted me to know who you were, why didn’t you just say so when you sent it to me?”

“And risk anyone finding out I’ve given dangerous and experimental weapons to a fourteen-year-old? No thank you.”

“Then why give them to me at all?”

“Because you're the most capable ghost hunter I've ever seen!” he praised as he put a hand on Danny’s shoulder as he steered him further into the lab. “You’re a natural in the field. Quick battle reflexes and amazing adaptability. It’s like you were born for this.”

“You really think so?”

An adult saying nice things about Danny was so rare, but this was something else. Was this guy actually proud of him? What he’d give for his own parents to be even half this proud of him.

“Of course, dear boy.” He let go of Danny as they approached a large workbench, “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of gathering your equipment.”

Danny looked to where Vlad was gesturing and saw that that was his suit and all of his guns. Even the hoverboard was there too.

He hadn’t brought his ghost hunting gear with him. He distinctly remembers leaving that at home. In his room. Under his bed.

Should he be worried about that?

“I thought, after you’ve been working so hard lately, it could use some upgrades. Don’t you think?”

“Oh, okay. Cool.” Hard to say no when it was already here.

“Excellent.” He clapped his hands together once and spun on his heel, “Well I should be done with all of this in just a few days so I’ll just send them back once they are ready.”

Danny wasn’t super excited to be without his gear for so long, but this guy was being so generous. Danny just accepted the terms.

“Perfect. Now run along. I have a few things I need to attend to before all the other guests get here.”

===============================================

The reunion party was in full swing and Danny was starting to regret not just staying with Jazz in the movie room. Watching a bunch of grown-ups jump around to weird music because there was absolutely no one his age around to talk to was getting old.

He spotted Vlad from across the room as he walked with one of the waiters back into the kitchen.

Danny sighed and wondered if he would get in trouble if he just followed him in there too.

Just as he was setting his empty punch glass back on the table a scream broke out. He turned to the sound and instinctively reached for his gear.

Which he didn’t have.

He sighed and hoped that maybe it wasn’t ghost-related, they were so far from Amity that it couldn’t possibly be that, right?

He was wrong. Because of course, he was.

The ballroom was emptying out surprisingly fast and it didn’t take a lot to see why. Floating several feet in the air was his dad.

He was shouting nonsense about how he needed to pay for his sins as he flew about the room.

Danny bit his lip and looked around to see if there was anything in the room he could use to help.

He was about to grab one of the serving trays to use as a shield, Captain America style, but his mom gripped his arm and started to drag him out of the room with the rest of the crowd.

“Sweetie, we have to go! Where is your sister?”

“She’s in the theater,” he said pointing towards it as he tried to slip out of her grip.

“Good, let’s go!” before he could protest further she simply picked him up, slung him over her shoulder, and started running.

“Mom?! Put me down! We can’t just leave him!”

“I’m sorry sweetie, but it’s not safe. We need to leave.”

“But mom, it’s a ghost! We have to get it out of him!”

His mom slowed down in her retreat and held him in front of her, “And how do you suppose we do that? I don’t have any ghost hunting gear, do you?”

Danny bit back his retort. Of course, he couldn’t say that he did. He couldn’t say that it was in fact, here.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t take a guess at where some could be.

“Maybe Vlad has some? He went to school for the same thing you did, right?” Danny said in a rush as he was finally able to wiggle out of her grip.

“Danny wait!”

It was too late, he was already off back to the lab to get the weapons his mom didn’t know he knew how to use.

He slid into the room and to his utter horror, all of his gear was completely dismantled. Exposed wires and opened components everywhere. When the heck did Vlad even have time to do all this while he was hosting a party?

Danny scrambled to find something, anything that was even remotely usable but the more he looked, the more everything just blurred together into a haze of black and red electronics.

There was another scream.

His mother.

He ditched the room and ran towards the sound hoping he wasn’t too late to help her.

It wasn’t his mom that needed help.

Outside of the ballroom was a large balcony that overlooked the front lawn. From there you could see the most stars Danny had ever seen outside of astral photography.

The stars weren’t what was holding his attention tonight.

Down below the balcony, on the hard unforgiving asphalt of the driveway was his dad.

He was too late.

His dad was dead.

===============================================

If you enjoyed this AU you can read more here

[jed-thomas]

Debt and Unreality at a British University

Most of the time, when journalists or researchers ask students in Britain about their “concerns” and their “experience”, they’re not looking for answers like: ‘I don’t feel real.’ Because, well, what do you do with that?

A friend of mine sat on a stiff leather couch in the hallway, tiredly scrolling. She’d just clocked out. For nine grand, we were getting about 7 hours of teaching a week. The rest of the time, of course, was supposed to be devoted to reading all the material we’d be discussing in seminars or attending lectures on. But she was working part-time at a Pizza Express. The maintenance loans only stretch so far, especially with rent around here. And you have to catch a bus to get to campus. Lots of us, our parents helped out. But if the ‘rents can’t or won’t pay, you’re a little stuffed.

In 2019, it was reported that over half of young people are now attending university. These figures represent the fulfilment of a target set by Tony Blair at a Labour Party conference in 1999, during his first term as Prime Minister. In July of the year before, Blair’s parliament passed the Teaching and Higher Education Act, introducing tuition fees for universities across the UK. In 1990, around 25% of young people stayed in some form of full-time education beyond the age of 18. Today, most young Britons will have experienced the presumption that they’re a university student and frequently, the expectation.

Yesterday, the University of Warwick’s official Twitter account shared a link to a blog post on how to ‘relieve intense stress in 60-seconds.’ The post was written by a current student.

In 1962, towards the end of Harold Macmillan’s Conservative premiership, “ordinarily resident” students were exempted from tuition fees and made eligible for a means-tested maintenance grant. Shortly after the Teaching and Higher Education Act of 1998, maintenance grants were replaced with loans. In 2004, the cap on tuition fees rose to £3,000 and by 2010, it had risen to its current rate of around £9,000. There were protests over that last increase, of course. The protests were in 2010 and I went to university in 2017. I now owe the British government around £27,000 for tuition and around £10,000 for maintenance. If you’re going this year, you’ll end up owing roughly the same - more, if your family earns less than mine.

You hear things. “Oh, they’re antidepressants.” A friend with a weird flatmate who never leaves their room. Oddly intense desperation eking out of drunk students from some corner of a smoking-area. Vaguely recognisable names and their time of death. “Honestly, just couldn’t be bothered to get up.” An acquaintance from your course drops out and moves back home. Barely concealed frustration in your professor’s tone, hushed rants in faculty corridors. And you notice other things. Admissions of 'suicidal ideation' and life-crises on a FaceBook page which is supposed to be about students sending anonymous messages of romantic interest. Sarcastic tweets about ‘mental health dogs’ and ‘mindfulness seminars’ have become cliché. A routinely empty chair in your seminar room. Strained eyes staring into the middle-ground, silence attending the teacher’s question. Dysfunction as normality. Your diagnosis in your bio next to where you go to uni.

In 2014, it was reported that one in seven full-time students also work full-time. The same report put the proportion of full-time students working part-time at a third. A number of reasons were given as to why they were doing this. I wonder, when they look at their bank accounts, or their accommodation, or their text on sociology, on Latin American history, on virology, existentialism, do they feel they have a handle on things? "I’m a full-time barista, full-time student." "Hello, I’m an impossibility."

For students, the British university is an experiment in unreality. Am I a customer or a pupil? Am I demanding a service from a business or being educated by my elders for my own good? Will it be my fault for selecting a ‘non-applicable’ degree or their fault for selling it to me? Everything is optional, even when it isn’t. You spend all week pouring over the text but feel embarrassed to correct or question the people who clearly didn’t because the professor doesn’t: “Don’t worry if you haven’t done the reading.” Next time, you just put in a sentence or two to fill one of the many silences, improvising off of what others have said, pretending you read whatever it was. Then, of course, coursework is set assessing your knowledge of the curriculum. You spend a couple of days stressed out, hoping to turn your lack of knowledge into a scholarly tone of caution and hedged bets. You go to a careers fair, a student union election, a party, a debate. Nothing sticks, tomorrow is the same day. Your teachers are devotees of a faith but you have to fill the ranks of their picket against the Church. The protestors mass, fill the campus with tension and noise, and then, in a couple of weeks, you’re sitting in the same seminar room with the same professor doing the same thing. You have to think surprisingly hard to remember that past, fugitive now in an opaque present. The only thing that changes is that a few new buildings emerge from their shells of scaffolding. When you miss almost five weeks, there is an email or two. One time, because of your chronic truancy, you get some mark or something, some strike against your name. Nothing happens. In fact, you find it incredibly hard to even find the place where that warning is actually recorded, displayed. You graduate with a First.

Recently, there has been a steady trickle of data, news items, and reports, gradually exposing the rate of suicide in higher education in the UK. It came to a head last week, as a Conservative peer, Lord Lucas, called for a bill which would give British universities a duty of care in the mental health outcomes of their students. Lord Lucas’ plea represents the mainstream of a movement by aggrieved parents of young people who took their lives whilst at university. One of these young people was Benjamin Murray, a 19-year-old in his first year studying English Literature at Bristol University. Shortly before falling to his death, Murray was told by the university that he would have to leave. A local newspaper reports that, according to sources at the university, his attendance was ‘sporadic’ and he had ‘failed to hand in expected work’. Discussing interactions he had with Murray which revealed that the undergraduate was suffering with an anxiety disorder, senior tutor Ben Gunter remarks that: 'A large number of students we see have varying levels of anxiety.’

I mean, look at it this way. You’re saddled with a debt, a sizeable debt. It makes you nervous just looking at all the zeroes. But this moment of selling your soul was planned, it was expected from the beginning. And there are voices all around you that keep coming up and whispering in your ear. It’s just a tax on spending after education. No-one’s expecting you to pay it back. It all gets forgiven when you hit 40. What’s a person to do in that situation? The same government that portrayed the national debt as an existential threat is the same government that turns around and says: Don’t worry. Does debt matter or doesn’t it? Is this real or isn’t it?

People are screaming, again. It's 5:35 in the afternoon. Earliest you’ve heard it this week. They’re really drunk. Or on something. You’re only dimly aware of it, really. It’s ubiquitous, it’s ambiance. Dimly, you wonder if they realise how loud they are being, how obvious their public intoxication is. You perk up when you recognise a few voices. People on your course - you’ve got an essay due tomorrow at noon. Down the ages, goes the cliché, students are drunk and reckless with deadlines. But you’ve been wondering whether it really matters if you get a 1:1 instead of a 2:1. Don’t they inflate the numbers, anyway? And besides, it's experience that matters on a CV, everyone’s got a degree these days. I’d just be another idiot with a 1:1. Your flatmate drunkenly knocks on your door and you seriously consider going back on your refusal to go out tonight.

A survey of undergraduates in seven universities in England reportedly found very high rates of dangerous drinking, with 41% identified as ‘hazardous drinkers’. It also considers that one in five students were likely to be diagnosable as alcoholic.

Every weekend students give in to the unreality. I know what you're thinking. Of course, young people have always experimented with substances, acted like they were invulnerable, ignored consequences. But many of the young people before us were unfamiliar with this level of unreality, this level of confusion. So the recklessness intensifies in those claustrophobic spaces that remain open to us.

I have deadlines, right now. A few days to go. I’ve been looking at the news, all the statistics on internships and jobs falling through for graduates and young people, in general. The worst hit. I’ve been talking to my friends, moaning about the job hunt, the rejections and the no-replies. Anecdotes tumble down the grape-vine of graduates from respected universities not even being able to get a part-time job at a supermarket because of the number of applicants or whatever. A couple of my friends are intermitting due to mental health problems. When I was home, before the most recent lockdown, a number of my friends and I worked at a pub. I’m back at uni and they’re still there. Class of 2020, all of us. Of course, they like it, it’s fine. But where do we go from here?

Don’t ask me, mate, I’ve got deadlines.

[trickster-4]

Chapter 2

Lilith stood there paralyzed as the demon in child form walked towards her sister. Her magic was gone snuffed out like a candle. Lilith couldn’t even a cast a spell to warm her body and she felt so.. cold.

“Such a monstrous creature .. I should make this permanent.. No, I won’t do that, it’s not what Eda would want..”

”That voice.... Her entire presence feels so dark...” Lilith felt horrified at the feeling of the human’s mind..

Warmth began to return to Lilith’s body and she slowly began to recover. Just in time to see a human child undoing her curse with ease.. Seconds after she begins to gawk at Luz who had reclaimed Eda’s staff and began to fly away.

Thirty minutes later…

“She is to be left alone..”

“Sir?”

“She altered the flow of your magic twisted it with ease..” Emperor Belos sat in the chair with a cold demeanor.. “Luz or whatever the entity wishes to call itself could have stripped the magic from your body as easily as breathing..”

“But isn’t she a danger?”

“Immensely so.. Nevertheless the power she possess though infinite could be taxing on her mind. Notice the duality she struggled with after casting such a spell.. The more power she accesses the more memories there is of this Shabragnido in her mind..” The Emperor shook his head at the idea of that. This entity was an unknown. Letting it loose was dangerous, but provoking it when it proved capable of damaging his palace despite his best spell? That was foolish..

“And my sister?”

“The same.. Keep your distance until this creature is gone or weakened..”

“.. Yes my lord..”

“The Human is dangerous, but can be maneuvered around... The instincts of this entity however.. It’s an animal it craves destruction...” The Emperor seemed fascinated and yet repulsed as he continued to described her true nature.. “And the scale of it’s appetite are for lack of a better word far reaching… I have never felt such sadism from any being.. She wanted you dead Lilith in a way a mere mortal cannot desire.. The only thing that held her back from finishing you off is Amity Blight..”

“Amity?”

“Love…” Bellow began to laugh cruelly.. His head shook with cruel mirth.. “Such a novel thing.. And so easily twisted.. Hard to believe such a malicious thing like Luz Noceda could love..”

There was a cruel cackle of laughter that echoed from the throne room. And all across the palace even the servants of the emperor shivered in fear.

Elsewhere…

Luz looked in the mirror trying to find anymore demonic features staring back.. She finally sighed in relief. Besides her red eyes and her shadow occasionally flickering between a demonic figure or a girl; Luz still looked human for the most part.

“What am I gonna do?”

“Kid don’t worry.. Word up the grapevine is that you’re not to be crossed..” Eda patted Luz on the shoulder trying her best to comfort the young girl.. “Apparently whatever show you put on has them spooked..”

“Great..” Luz smiled sarcastically.. “Hexside is gonna be awesome..”

The following day…

Luz was not used to being avoided like this. The countless eyes staring at her with fear and trepidation were unsettling. More so was the reverence some of the faculty and the older students were showing..

“Lord Ruby Eyes….” Principal Bump gave a bow as he passed Luz by. “We’ll attempt to keep classes normal as per your desires..”

“Thanks…” Luz continued to walk through the hallways only to come across Willow and Gus. She smiled at the sight of them and approached them. “Hey guys how are you doing?”

“Oh hey Luz.. We’re doing fine..” Willow seemed rather unsure of herself. Her family were of the old worshipers devoted to the first dragons. They knew of the battles between Ruby Eye and her Lord.. “I’m glad you made it out in one piece.”

“Thanks I’m glad you’re doing good as well..” Luz hugged Willow who was caught off guard but she embraced her friend tightly.. “You guys didn’t get in trouble did you?”

“Nope..”

“Our parents.. were concerned but they’re holding off judgment…”

“Judgment?”

“You’re kinda a religious figure in Old Witch lore..” Amity walked in with a small smile. She held several books upon approaching Luz.. “You made combat magic, curses, hexes, transformation magic, we owe you much and it’s terrifying having your legends walking among you.. Especially when there’s a lot of evidence you are who you say you are.. Your aura is old, ageless, and dark and you matched Emperor Bellows easily despite being a “human”.. No one wants to make a god angry.”

“But I’m not a god it’s just me..” Luz protested even as her shadow shifted once again to the notice of Willow and Guz.. She muttered annoyed and was about to protest. Suddenly it felt like static in her brain and there was the taste of copper in her mouth. Then Luz looked at her hands and saw they were soaked in blood.. “No…..” The girl couldn’t believe what she was seeing and was distrusted by it.. “No No No No NO NO NO..”She ran towards the water fountain.

The girl scrubbed and scrubbed trying to get the blood off. She heard the crying of children and death screams of countless people. It hurt, it hurt so much and to feel that to understand that was absolute torture..

“Please stop it Luz!!”

You gotta stop Luz..”

“Luz!”

How many people did she kill as Shabragnido? How many jealous husband cursed their wives using her spells? How many kings sacrificed their children for power in her name. How many civilizations did she lay to waste just because she enjoyed doing it?

“Please stop Luz!”

“Your hurting yourself please stop Luz!!”

“LUZ!!”

Luz finally stopped scrubbing. There was never any blood she finally realized that. Though her hands was heavily rubbed raw and shaking. “Amity…” She grabbed her friend tightly and began to cry..

“It’s going to be okay Luz..” Amity promised..

The classes were thankfully over quickly though Luz had to lean on Amity constantly for her support.

That Afternoon..

“Well I figured something like this could happen.. Luz’s old life is ancient. And reawakening her powers has caused those memories to unspool. It’s not gonna be an easy job.”

“But you can do it right?” Amity looked at her crush’s mentor.

“Of course I can, best witch on the boiling isles here..” Eda boasted before sighing looking tired. Despite the fact that physically she felt great and had even regained her red hair; the witch was exhausted after making this artifact. Hopefully this would block out her old memories for a short time.. “Now once the spells have set this will keep your past from rearing it’s ugly head during the day. But you need to take it off later after school it has to recharge after eight hours.. Also your mind needs to deal with these memories Luz..”

A black head band glowed yellow mysteriously in Eda’s hands..

“Are you sure!?”

“Yes and I’m serious this could cause damage to your mind..” Eda gave her apprentice a stern no nonsense gaze. She wouldn’t budge on this in the slightest and upon seeing the over enthusiasm for the artifact put it into a jewelry box and locked it.. “You’ll take it off after school and you’ll be doing mental exercises with Amity and me for a few months..”

“Exercises?”

“Excuse me?”

“After your little excursion last time into Willow’s mind. I think you get the gist of it..” Eda leaned down to Luz and hugged her tightly for a moment. “It’s something similar but you two are gonna do deep diving and organizing of Luz’s old memories.. It’s going to be hard.. But, it’ll get easier and eventually you won’t need those little tuneups..”

“So this is not a permanent thing?”

“No it’s just a matter of helping Luz’s mind deal with the impending shift in gears.. Once that’s done she can heal naturally..”

“Oh thank goodness…”

“Why? Are you worried about seeing your crush’s mind?”

“Shh Luz doesn’t know that!!” Amity blushed angrily as she looked towards Luz who still seemed to be stuck in her thoughts. Thankfully she heard nothing.. “She’s going through a lot right now!! Luz can hear about that later..”

“Sure just don’t wait too long. Last thing we really need is a love triangle..”

Amity glared at Eda even as she fought to keep her face from blushing hard. She couldn’t believe her teacher and this woman were related..

“There’s something that I’m wondering about… Is Shabragnido really me?” Luz looked towards her shoes trying to avoid seeing what form her shadow was taking on at the moment. ”Part of me says yes…Or am I just a vessel for him? I feel things he felt, remember things he experienced. But, this goes beyond just sympathy or empathy doesn’t it?”

“There’s no one else in there Luz..” Eda waved off her concerns of identity.. She held her apprentice’s gaze with a compassionate smile. For a brief moment her eyes glowed yellow for a few seconds. “Frankly your soul looks different.. At some angles it looks human, and others it looks like an overpowered demon.. But, it’s just you Luz.. There’s just more to you than you actually knew about.”

“What if I go full demon? What I get swallowed up in all these memories..” Luz’s eyes began to tear up only for Amity to take hold of her shoulder and smile. “Thank you Amity..”

“No problem it’s what friends are for..”

“Now then let’s get started.. Here’s hoping you kids don’t land into one of Luz’s fantasies..”

“What?!” The two girls screamed before they both faded into Luz’s mind. Eda shook her head laughing to herself. There was a sudden knock at the door she tensed for a moment before summoning her staff. The Elder Witch opened the door slightly.

“Who’s there?”

“H-Hello… Eda..”

“Leave Lilith.. You weren’t welcome here, but now my policy is shoot to kill on sight..” Eda glared at her sister with a cold unfeeling stare. She felt her mind shift to a number of deadly spells. “You’re dead to me.. Get away from my house. Go wherever you want to go, but to me Lilith Clawthorne died at age fourteen..”

“Eda..”

“I will never forgive you..”

Lilith’s head began to ring as those words rippled through her mind. The words that she never wanted to hear from her sister and haunted her darkest dreams.. Those words that were never spoken until today. I will never forgive you. I will never forgive. I will never forgive you. I will never forgive you. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!!!

Luz’s mind...

Luz and Amity slammed the door on the door. They were both blushing heavily and sweating while they walked away unable to look each other in the eye. Amity never knew Luz had such an attentive and creative imagination when it came to those things..

“Okay...” Amity looked a thousand miles away her face was blushing pink. She stared blankly ahead trying not to remember that vivid scene. Nope we are not thinking about. It’s Luz’s fantasy and I am not going to comment about it!! “Let’s just try to get into your memories and put things in order..”

“Soooo let’s get started..” Luz looked ahead towards a greek looking door.. She felt that it was new a recent emergence into her mind. “That place looks like a good place to start.”

“Ancient Atlantis… Whoa..”

“What?”

“Sorry it’s just a bit of a sore spot for witches one of the most magically developed civilizations.. Now we’re getting a look at those days..” Amity smiled excitedly. She took Luz’s hand into her own. “It’s a huge deal think of the discoveries that we can make..”

“I can’t believe that Atlantis actually real..”

They walked into the streets of an Grecian like city. Luz and Amity were in awe of the architecture. Water flowed through various aqueducts buildings were being built in seconds through magic. They were quickly approaching a black stone temple. Luz flinched at the sight of Shabragnido’s statues..

“Huh, I’ve never actually seen what Lord Ruby Eyes looked like ..”

“… So where is he? I mean where am I?”

The two girls suddenly heard the sound of laughter in the streets below the temple. They followed the sound until they saw a little girl playing with a strange horned brown rabbit with ruby eyes.. The rabbit was glumly silently even as he was forced into an embrace by the child. For a moment they actually saw a glimmer of enjoyment in it’s eyes..

“Damn my idiot of a brother..”

“Wait is that supposed to be me!? Why am I so adorable?!!”

[blackbatsnwitchshats]

New Opportunities

Chapter 7

Chapter Summary:

AFO/Ichidai: hey, hi, i'm karma ;)

Bakugou: *shocked Pikachu face*

______________________

The pleasant surprise on Midoriya's face when he found Ichidai waiting for him by the koi pond was incredibly humbling.

The other boy had come out of the building looking miserable, glancing his way for but a short moment before dropping his gaze to the ground again. Though, another look towards him caused Midoriya to jolt up in excitement when he realized he hadn't been stood up. To Ichidai, it wasn't unlike seeing a shelter puppy run towards him -a big ball of anxiety smothered by even greater hope.

"You're here!"

"I am," Ichidai nodded. "Though, I have to ask where your lunch is?"

"Oh! I -uh-"

Midoriya fumbled his words for a while before ultimately looking back down as his feet, almost ashamed.

Ichidai raised an eyebrow and stated, "Someone stole your lunch money."

He must have hit the nail on its head, because Midoriya sighed and his shoulders drooped like he was a wilting flower. "Yeah."

"Was it Bakugou?"

"No."

Both of them were quiet for a beat before Ichidai hummed and made room for him on the bench. "Well, then I guess I'll just have to share my lunch with you today."

"Suzuran!" Midoriya yelped, going ramrod straight and waving his hands in front of himself. "You don't have to do that! I'll be fine!"

However, his own stomach contradicted him by speaking up at that moment. It growled, loudly, and Midoriya looked down at himself in betrayal. Of course Ichidai couldn't help but chuckle, and that only made him cover his bright red face in embarrassment.

"You're right; I don't have to. I want to, though. So here," Ichidai said as he took half of his sandwich and held it out to him.

Midoriya peeked at him from between his fingers. "You're sure you're okay with sharing?"

"One-hundred percent."

"Well," He hesitated a bit longer before taking the sandwich and sitting down on the bench. "...Okay."

Midoriya took a bite and smiled. "This is good. Did you make it?"

"No," Ichidai shook his head. "My guardian did."

"Your guardian?" Midoriya asked curiously.

"He looks after me and my older brother. Our parents are no longer with us," Ichidai explained.

"Oh... I'm sorry."

Ichidai waved off his concern. "It's okay. You didn't know."

"Anyway, what about you?" he prompted as he bit into his own half of the sandwich.

"It's... uh... mostly just me and my mom. I don't have any siblings, and my dad is overseas for work."

"Must be pretty quiet at your house."

"Yeah, but we find things to do. Mom took up sewing as a hobby and I... well, I write."

Ichidai had noticed. If Midoriya wasn't doing assignments, he was writing in that separate notebook of his. He'd never gotten close enough to see what was in it though.

Now would be the perfect time to ask.

"You write? Creatively?" Ichidai tilted his head. "Is that why you're always carrying that beat up Compos book with you?"

Midoriya fidgeted his feet nervously. "Er... Yes and no. I do quirk analysis."

"Really?" Ichidai perked up not unlike a squirrel at an offering of nuts. "That's pretty neat!"

His own sincerity and exuberance almost startled him.

Midoriya himself was certainly taken aback by it.

Toning it down slightly, Ichidai asked, "May I see?"

Midoriya hesitated a bit before reaching into his backpack. "I guess, ...though -just letting you know- it can get a little... dark... sometimes."

"That's alright."

Ichidai opened the clearly beloved notebook and began reading.

Halfway through the second entry, he muttered, "You're very thorough... and you said you do it just as a hobby?"

"Uh... yeah. It's something I've been doing it since I was little. So I've kinda gotten the hang of knowing what to look for."

"This is amazing, Midoriya. You could be a professional quirk analyst."

Flipping forward a few pages, Ichidai was further impressed. The attention to detail in the other boy's observations was astounding.

"Most of your work is about heroes," he noted as he closed the notebook and handed it back. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah! Heroes are awesome!"

Goodness -the amount of glee in that answer was second only to Midoriya's joy upon finding Ichidai waiting for him.

"All Might's my favorite, but what about you? Do you like heroes?"

Ichidai just barely managed to keep a straight face at the mention of his arch enemy, shrugging in an effort to make his grimace look more neutral than disgusted. "Eh... I'm more interested in their quirks than the heroes themselves. Though, if I have to pick one, ...probably Fatgum. He has a cool quirk and doesn't seem like all that bad of a person. Everything I've seen and heard about him has been pretty positive over all."

"Fatgum, huh? I don't think I've looked into him yet. He works closely with the police, doesn't he?"

"Right. From what I understand, the way his quirk works-"

The bell for the end of lunch interrupted him.

"I guess we'll have to save this for later. After school?"

"Sure!"

________________

"You two have gotten rather friendly. You dating or something?" Bakugou jeered at them one morning.

Ichidai sneered back, "Why are you asking? Jealous?"

Rebuffing the blond had become his norm in the past few weeks. He'd thought Bakugou had been annoying before, but -now that Ichidai was friends with Midoriya- he'd gotten at least ten times worse.

Following them around. Asking too personal questions. Just generally being a nosy little bastard.

It was like Bakugou had some sort of complex involving Midoriya, and he couldn't stand not having the green haired boy and his attention all to himself.

Though, Midoriya for his part did seem to be losing some form of interest in his bully. He wouldn't answer Ichidai when he broached the subject, which made him curious, but Ichidai was more than willing to drop it in favor of more interesting topics.

Like quirks.

He and Izuku could talk about quirks for hours.

They didn't always agree on everything, like possible sources and applications, but they never felt the need to argue either. They'd yet to get bored of each other; their ideas, theories, and general flow of conversation never ran dry. There was always a new hero -a new quirk- to peak their interest.

They got along like a house on fire, and -for whatever reason Ichidai couldn't quite understand- Bakugou took offence to that.

Either way, Ichidai was having a blast rubbing it in his face.

When he wasn't making a nuisance of himself planting relatively harmless traps for Aldera's faculty failures, he was monopolizing as much of Midoriya's time as he was allowed. Partially because Ichidai knew the pathetic sharks would swarm the green-haired boy as soon as he left, but mostly because he was actually having fun with someone for the first time in goodness knew how long.

All For One couldn't remember the last time he'd genuinely enjoyed someone's company. He'd been so caught up in running his criminal empire that making any sort of personal connections just didn't happen. Not to mention the fact it just wasn't a good idea in the first place.

Now though ...now he could without worry, and he wasn't going to let some two-bit wanna-be hero brat ruin it for him.

"Nah. I just wanna know why you're wasting your time with the deku. You do know he's quirkless, right?"

In his peripheral, Ichidai could see Midoriya shift in discomfort. Probably worried he was going to drop him as a friend like a hot potato.

It made Ichidai wonder how many times it had happened, because he had no doubt it actually had.

"Yeah? And what of it?"

"So you do know; you just don't care. Why?" Bakugou huffed, "It's not like he's going to amount to anything or do anything important. He's useless."

"Useless, huh?" Ichidai raised an eyebrow, humming, "Well, ...if he's useless, then you're worthless."

Bakugou's mouth dropped along with the rest of their classmates'. Even Midoriya, standing just beside Ichidai's desk, couldn't believe the words that had just come out of his mouth. They all looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What did you just say?" Bakugou asked quietly as he clenched his fists.

Ichidai rolled his eyes. "You heard me."

Bakugou launched himself at Ichidai, fists flying. He yet again aimed for Ichidai's head, but missed as Ichidai lowered himself in his seat and braced his shoulders against the window sill. Glass rained down around them. Neither boy paid any attention to it though as Ichidai brought his feet up and planted them firmly on Bakugou's hips, kicking the blond off of him.

Bakugou flew back into several empty desks, their metal legs screeching over the tile floor.

He pulled himself up from the floor and snarled, glaring death at Ichidai. He tensed, preparing to tackle Ichidai again, before the classroom door slammed open to reveal their teacher and the principal.

"What on earth is happening in here?!"

Thinking quickly, Ichidai pointed to Bakugou and stood up to reveal the newly broken window next to his seat. "Bakugou broke the window trying to punch me!"

Classic.

Bakugou pointed back at Ichidai and opened his mouth, likely to deny the claim, but the arm he raised was the bloody one he'd used to punch the window. There was no getting out of trouble now. The evidence was clearly stacked against him, in plain view.

Repeatedly glancing between Bakugou and the window, the principal looked just about ready to blow his top. The anger in his voice was clear as he spoke, barely managing to keep himself from yelling. "Young man, this is absolutely unacceptable. Grab your things and meet me in my office. Now."

He then turned and marched out of the room.

Their teacher heaved a heavy sigh once the other man was gone. Looking to Bakugou, he said, "You heard him, kid. I'll call the nurse and let her know you're coming. She can escort you after you get that hand of yours looked at."

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, but nonetheless gathered his things. Shooting scalding looks Ichidai's way all the while, he stomped to the door and slammed it shut behind him.

"Alright class, fix your seats. There's still plenty of work to do. Those math problems aren't going to solve themselves."

________________

Later, during their walk home, Midoriya asked, "Suzuran, why did you do that? Earlier today..."

"Do what?"

"Call Kac- Katsuki worthless."

"Oh, that," Ichidai shrugged. "I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine."

"He's always calling you such horrible things, and I thought, "Why not return the favor with something equally as cruel? It'd only be fair, considering everything he's done." I figured that if he wants to go around calling people awful names, he should at least be able to handle receiving the same gestures in kind. As we saw earlier though, that's obviously not the case."

Midoriya nodded, quieting for a moment. Rubbing his arm, he asked, "You really don't mind that I'm quirkless?"

Ichidai pursed his lip in thought before answering, "Yes and no. I care in terms of what it means for you, but it doesn't hold any weight in my decision to be your friend."

"Really?"

Midoriya looked at him so warily yet hopefully that Ichidai simply couldn't bring himself to do anything other than reassure him.

Bumping his shoulder against Midoriya's, he said, "Really really."

It wasn't his intention to make Midoriya cry, but that's exactly what happened.

Though, Ichidai supposed he didn't mind. Happy tears were leagues better than sad ones.

[thenugking]

Grand Academy For Future Villains II: Attack of the Sequel, Chapter 0: Prologue. A commentary for Three.

Like Maedryn in this chapter, I am also back on my bullshit.

General CW for the whole thing: parental abuse, internalised dehumanisation as a trauma response. Three’s not doing well. They’re doing worse than usual in this specific chapter.

Game 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Alternatively, read on Google Docs here

***

That would explain the swarms of clones, you think dimly through the haze of the flashback, but not why they're me….

No. You hadn't been a mindless copy at all. You had been disappointingly independent, an individual in your own right, so instead of simply recycling you as perhaps she should have, Maedryn had raised you like her own child. Of course, you were still intended as a tool to carry out her grand designs; what kind of villain would she have been if she had simply loved and cherished you?

Professor Cerebrist had wanted your mother's replication technology for himself. When you, the living prototype of your mother's early research, showed up in his freshman Evil Genius 101 class, he saw his opportunity. In your first year at the Academy, you found yourself as the battleground in the war between your mother and her mentor. Even though it never came down to a fight between you, your loyalties were tested.

In the chaos of the battle between the rebel faculty, the attacking heroes, and the beleaguered Grand Academy administration, you'd called on your mother for help, and she'd come through. She'd defeated the Professor and taken his place.

Clearly your mother has finally perfected her replication technology and taken the place of her former mentor. But if she already has everything she wanted…why has she unleashed swarms of mindless yous upon the Academy?

It’s… not a great start to Three’s sophomore year. They weren’t looking forward to having their mother on campus in the first place, but they'd hoped she would wait at least a little while before getting back on her bullshit. (Not that that’s a phrase they’d ever use, having only heard it in the context of Scorpius informing them that ze’s very sadly back on zir bullshit, before throwing a box of scorpions at them and running off before Three could ask what ze was talking about. But Maedryn is, unfortunately, very much back on her bullshit here.)

They don’t know what she’s doing with the clones, but right now, that’s not as big of a concern as the fact that the clones are here at all. Looking like Three. And making person-like screams. And probably getting their outfits and hair messy. In public. Three is… somewhat disgruntled that after all the effort they’ve put in to turning themself into a tool, erasing any displays of personhood and imperfection, Maedryn would simply create some new tools that don’t bother with any of that at all. But which still let other people see Three as a messy, screaming person.

The very noticeable, very public appearance isn’t helpful for Three’s desire to remain unnoticed and not draw attention to themself, either. It’s an interesting paradox; they can blend into the janitorial staff perfectly, but they stick out as The Student Who Looks Like All The Clone Janitors. There’s a similar thing going on with their name, actually. They like having a name that suggests a lack of personhood, but it does have the unfortunate side effect of having people consider it  odd, unique and even memorable.

...That first explanatory paragraph up there is spot-on Three characterisation though. 

#"But what an impressive job you've done of it! I'm so proud you're my mother!"

She looks at you critically. "A bit grovelly, but appropriate; it was and you should be."

Three’s probably not quite this grovelly. Apart from disliking the exuberance of the exclamation marks, they’ve had nineteen years to learn to measure quite how much grovelling Maedryn likes. But a little grovelling in this situation is only appropriate, particularly when they’re not certain exactly what she might have read from their thoughts on the flashback gun.

"Some of you may remember," says the Head, in ponderous tones, "the attempted establishment of a second and rival school on our campus last year, calling itself the Polytechnic Institute for Antagonism and Moral Complexity. This institution is hereby forcibly dissolved, thanks to the clone armies contributed by our loyal faculty. There is but one school on this campus, and it will tolerate no challenge, share no power, and show no mercy!"

The judgment of the remnant of the ill-fated Polytechnic Institute for Antagonism and Moral Complexity is summary, arbitrary, and surprisingly creative. The fates of the rebel faculty, announced and executed by DarkBoard, range from "Probation, with Extra Probes" for Professor Ulik, to "Dismissal Before Expiration of Contract" for the senior Professor Dethclot, to "Disciplinary Suspension" for the ringleader, Professor Mortwain. This last didn't sound so bad, until you see that it involves being suspended in a vat of clear Jell-O and set on the plinth in the courtyard as a warning to traitors.

The rebel students are all expelled, which is to say they are one by one dropped through a trapdoor in the floor. Presumably it ends up somewhere in the dungeons, but the geography of the Grand Academy is dubious at the best of times, and you figure they're lucky if they end up somewhere with a breathable atmosphere and not floating in the void.

Three thought they’d long grown out of feeling sorry and disappointed for idealists who tried to act against their mother. Of course, they hadn’t known Maedryn had cared about the Polytechnic Institute for Antagonism and Moral Complexity, but on reflection, they don’t know why they ever expected the School Head to have any more mercy than Maedryn had. It’s unexpected and unpleasant, having these feelings come up again, and there’s a deeper despair they’re not sure they remember feeling before.

They could have been part of the Professor Mortwain’s Institute. They’d thought before this that they should have been. It was only cowardness that stopped them. But they’ve known all along that going against authority never ends well. This just shows they were right. This just proves any ideas they had about standing for their own beliefs in future were foolish and naive, and they knew better than Mortwain and Ulik and Phil and everyone else in the firing line now. So why do they still feel like they should be standing there with them?

"That," the School Head tells the surviving students and staff, "was a Refreshing Display of School Spirit."

It casts its gaze about the hall. Then those eyes land directly on you. "Are there any remaining students in this body," it says, "that we should know about, that participated in activities unbecoming the Grand Academy for Future Villains?"

You scan the hall, trying to find someone to betray. Not Rathna, you were known to be enemies. Not Miriel the Bloodshrike, you actually like her. Not Aurion either, the Head is known to favor him.

There. Leaning back in his chair, you spot the perfect mark. Phil, a casual friend from last year. Permanent upperclassman, villainous slacker, and known supporter of the rebel college, insofar as he could be bothered to support anything at all. 

The Head's baleful gaze has not left you. It's waiting.

Seriously, why am I being told I’m enemies with Rathna now? And that I like Miriel? Anyway, Three doesn’t particularly want to betray anyone. Certainly not Aurion, their Not Best Friend, or Rathna, who they get along well with, and turning on anyone from the Shadow Council could be dangerous. But with the Head looking right at them, betraying someone else might be the only way to keep themself safe. A few months ago, they wouldn’t have hesitated before giving Phil up; they’d thought he was too lazy and useless to deserve a place here anyway. Then he’d beaten them, and shown a commitment to his cause Three wished they could have, and inspired them to do better. Which obviously, in the end, was a bad decision on Phil’s part and got neither of them anywhere.

#Say nothing and hope no one notices.

You can't bear to betray him. However, your mother—despite the effort of controlling all the replicas in the room—notices your hesitation, and intervenes. Phil isn't any help. He doesn't put up a fight, doesn't even really seem to notice what's happening until he's hauled off to the trapdoor by two of your blank-faced replicas.

You think you hear him call your name. "What are you—" You shift guiltily in your seat, but he's addressing the clones.

Did he even notice that they weren't you? Did he even care that there were suddenly swarms of you when last year there'd been only one? Hurtful. He deserves whatever he's going to get. Or so you tell yourself as the trapdoor closes with a final clang.

Three doesn’t really feel hurt (at least not by Phil). After all, why shouldn’t he think the clones are controlled by them? Or that Three’s at least part of the dissolution of the Polytechnic Institute for Antagonism and Moral Complexity? They were working with the School Head to stop it last year, and they’re sitting with Maedryn now. And they never thanked him for what he did. And they never apologised.

Three doesn’t have many thoughts on the rest of the announcements, mostly because they’re dissociating during them. Which is fine. That stops them having feelings, and tools don’t have feelings. None of the Probably Much More Useful Than Three Is clones have feelings. Does Maedryn even need them for anything now she has the clones?

It’s not going to be a good year for Three.

[freddiesaysalright]

Soft in Love Part 2

A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader Fic

Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges.

Word Count: 2.7k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @benders-diamond-earring​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @anincurablefangirl​, @kiainspace​, @lookuptotheskiesandsee​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you all enjoy this next part! Sorry it’s taken a little longer than usual, I’ve been pretty busy at work.

Warning(s): None! Well, more pining, but hey, y’all asked for this.

Part 1

Part 2 here we go!!!

That night, you went to Sloan’s for pizza and a movie. Since you lived on campus as part of your scholarship, you tended to hang out at Sloan and Andrew’s apartment once classes were over and homework was done. You had a room to yourself, but it wasn’t spacious, so the three of you normally were at their shabby, typical New York apartment with little space and even less furniture.

“So, what should we watch?” you wondered as you plopped down on the couch.

“How about Bohemian Rhapsody?” Sloan suggested, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “Y’know, so you can really see Gwilym in action?”

Andrew groaned. “Come on, Sloan, we’ve teased her enough.”

“What?” she shot back. “They were really connecting.”

“Connecting?” you questioned. “We barely said two words to each other.”

You had neglected to tell them about running into your substitute in the library. You were keeping that moment to yourself. It felt like something private, even though it was perfectly innocent. You wanted to keep it in your heart. For now, at least.

“All that eye contact,” Sloan continued. “It was like Edward and Bella in there.”

“If it was like Edward and Bella, he’s more likely to murder me than anything,” you retorted. 

“Edward doesn’t kill Bella!” she argued.

“He turns her into a vampire!” Andrew pointed out. “That’s the same thing!”

“No it isn’t!” 

“Yes it is!”

“Okay, Jacob!”

“Guys!” you interjected. “If we talk anymore about Twilight, I’m going to kill myself. Let’s just pick a movie.”

“I still vote for Bohemian Rhapsody,” Sloan said. “Y/N should see at least one thing our new professor is in.”

“I think we should watch a classic,” Andrew replied. “I haven’t watched Casablanca in a while.”

“One vote for Bohemian Rhapsody, one vote for Casablanca,” she said, then looked at you. “Would you like to cast a vote, or add a contender?”

You thought for a moment, but you already knew what you were going to pick. You just wanted to give Andrew the illusion of having a chance. You tapped your chin with your forefinger.

“I’m gonna go with…” you paused. “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Oh, come on!” Andrew mock complained. Then he smiled. “Alright, I’m gonna order the pizza.”

“We’ll start the movie,” Sloan assured him.

As she picked up the remote, you considered telling her about the library. You weren’t sure why Sloan should be allowed this information and not Andrew, but you’d noticed he had sort of drifted from you while you were dating Daniel. Now that you and Daniel were broken up, Andrew was friendlier than before even. It made you a little confused. And the distance really hurt you.

But you looked at Sloan and thought about what she had said so far. You didn’t think she would tease you about the library, but she also would likely turn it into something it wasn’t. She had a tendency to gas you up for things that were hardly ever a big deal in reality. So you decided not to tell her. The moment would remain just yours. And Gwilym’s, of course.

The movie began, with the pizza arriving about half an hour in. You wouldn’t call yourself a huge Queen fan, but you liked their hits. You admired the movie’s aesthetic, but you especially admired Gwilym’s performance. He looked so cool with the curly hair and the seventies clothes. It was rather unlike the man you’d met earlier that day. Not that Gwilym didn’t look cool, he just wasn’t as glam. At least, not on that level.

When the movie finished after the Live Aid scene, you had gotten a little emotional. You wiped your burning eyes and sniffled.

“So, what’d you think?” Sloan asked, switching the television off.

“It was good,” you choked out.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re such a sap,” Andrew joked.

“Shut up!” you returned. “I just have feelings. There’s nothing wrong with that!”

He laughed. “Nah, I guess you’re right.”

You stretched out on the couch, nudging his thigh playfully with your toe as you giggled and yawned. He smiled back at you.

“I’m beat,” you sighed. “I think I’ll head back to my dorm.”

“You know you’re always welcome to stay here,” Andrew said.

“I know,” you replied. “But I don’t like to intrude. Plus, your couch is lumpy.”

“You could take my bed,” he offered.

Something about the way he didn’t look at you when he said it rubbed you the wrong way. If Andrew had feelings for you, you wished he would either say it or get over it, but not say things like that to leave you wondering. You knew it could never be that way between you, so you hoped for the latter.

“I’d rather be in my own bed,” you said, keeping your tone light.

You got off the couch and stretched again. As you put your backpack on, you thanked them for the pizza and then bid them goodnight. 

Sloan closed the door behind you and looked at her roommate.

“Could you be any more obvious?” she said. She continued by doing her best Andrew impression. “Stay here, sleep in my bed, suck my dick.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he returned, disappearing in to his room. 

You headed back to campus, which was only a few blocks away, your mind racing. Everything from your chance library meeting with Gwilym to whatever the hell had gotten into Andrew was swirling around in your mind.

As you passed the coffee shop closest to campus - frequented by mostly students and faculty, you spotted Gwilym though the window. You watched him as he pored over the book you had recommended, sipping his drink with something of a refined air about him. The temptation to go in and say hello was overwhelming. You were just so drawn to him for some reason. But you decided against it, remembering the way Sloan had compared you both to the cringiest couple perhaps ever written. Showing up suddenly at the coffee shop after one earlier chance meeting seemed very stalker or Edward Cullen-ish. Even if it was genuinely a coincidence. With a sigh, you moved along.

Gwilym lifted his eyes from the page he was reading and looked around. He felt as if there was someone he knew nearby, but as his eyes scanned the room, he saw only strangers. Movement by the window made him look out, but he missed who or whatever it was that created the motion. He blinked in that direction, his mind drawing up - for some reason - an image of you standing there. 

Something resembling disappointment crossed over his heart, but he pushed it down. He didn’t need to be wishing to see you anywhere outside of class. His phone ringing brought a welcome distraction.

“Hello?” he said, picking it up.

“Gwilym, hi!” chirped the voice of Dr. Bennett. “I just wanted to check on you and see how the first day went.”

“You’ve just given birth, and you’re worried about me?” he returned. “Emily, that’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t scold me, Gwil,” she answered lightly. “How’d the class go?”

“If you must know, it went just fine,” he told her. “I’ve been introduced to everyone. You have a very talented class there.”

“Excited as I am to have my son, I am a bit bummed I won’t get to teach them,” she agreed. “But, I’ve left them in very capable hands. I’m glad it’s going smoothly.”

“It really is,” he said.

“What do you think of Y/N?” she asked.

His chest tightened.

“She seems like a lovely girl,” he said stiffly.

“She’s a real star,” she went on. 

“I haven’t heard her sing yet, but from the way you and Dr. Curtis talk, I feel I should have a handkerchief on me or something.”

She laughed. “She’ll impress you I’m sure. Be careful there.”

He paused, wanting to know more about what she meant. It was an odd thing to say about a student. Was she joking? Was she giving him some warning about who you were? Were you not what you seemed? He wanted answers, but decided to ignore it entirely. That was the best way to deal with something like this, in his opinion.

“How are you and the baby?” Gwilym asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Perfect, so far,” she said. “Just ready to get home.”

“I’m sure.”

“Hey, Gwil,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Please keep me updated on everything,” she requested. “I’ll come and see the show at the end of the semester, but I want to know how everything comes together.”

“Will do,” he promised.

“Thanks,” she said warmly.

“You get some rest now,” he said.

“Will do,” she replied, and he heard the smile in her voice.

They said goodbye and hung up. Gwilym’s mind still reeled with her warning. Be careful there. Be careful of what, exactly? Perhaps it was better if he never knew.

On Thursday, you showed up to class early, as usual. The auditorium was empty except for Gwilym. Your heart rate quickened as you approached him. 

“Morning,” you said brightly.

He turned his head and smiled at you. “Hello, Y/N. You’re early.”

“I’m always early,” you said with a shrug. “How’s the book?”

“I’m only three chapters in, but it is interesting,” he replied. “Fond as I am of Shakespeare’s plays, it’s his poetry that really gets me.”

“Oh, really?” you wondered.

He nodded. “Yes. Poetry and songs I think are the most intimate forms of writing. The authors put their feelings out and wrap them up in beautiful language. And somehow, that makes others feel it. As if it were their own. If that makes any sense.”

You pondered his words a moment. You thought of every time you’d sung in your car at the top of your lungs, the words of a song just punching you right in the heart. 

“It makes sense,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were so into that stuff.”

“There’s a lot about me that may surprise you, Y/N,” he said.

You met his gaze, searching for the meaning behind that. He cut his eyes away before you did, clearing his throat.

“Would you like to get started?” he asked. “We can begin with your solo, ‘The Boy Next Door’.”

“Sounds good,” you agreed. “Want me to sing acapella or play piano?”

“You sing, I’ll accompany you,” he returned.

“You play piano?” you questioned. “You certainly are full of surprises.”

The teasing tone felt a bit unfamiliar to you. Were you flirting with him? If you were, was it wrong?

“I play piano, but not very well,” he replied humbly. “I can play a simple tune like this.”

You smiled as you both took the stage, you stopping in the center and he taking a seat on the piano bench. You waited for his cue, and then when he began, you opened your mouth and began to sing.

“The moment I saw him smile

I knew he was just my style

My only regret is we’ve never met

Though I dream of him all the while

But he doesn’t know I exist

No matter how I may persist

So it’s clear to see, there’s no hope for me

Though I live at fifty-one-thirty-”

Gwilym missed a note on the piano and stopped, bringing you to a halt as well. You shot him a questioning look.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not good enough to turn the pages on time.”

“Oh, is that all?” you teased. “Here, I’ll stand next to the piano and turn the pages for you.”

“I’m very much obliged,” he returned.

You walked over and stood to the side, looking expectantly at him.

“From ‘so it’s clear,’” he told you.

“So it’s clear to see, there’s no hope for me

Though I live at fifty-one-thirty-five Kensington Avenue-”

You turned the page.

“And he lives at fifty-one-thirty three.

How can I ignore the boy next door

I love him more than I can say

Doesn’t try to please me

Doesn’t even tease me

And he never sees me glance his way…”

You stole a glance at Gwilym as you held  this note. His face was screwed up in concentration as his eyes followed the music. His hands, which were large and smooth, moved gracefully. His long fingers pressed the keys with ease. He looked very handsome.

“And though I’m heart sore, the boy next door

Affection for me won’t display

I just adore him

So I can’t ignore him

The boy next door…”

You held the note and came off of it slowly and softly. Gwilym did the same with his final note. As the song closed, you looked at each other. A moment of softness passed between your gazes. Gwilym was beginning to understand his friend’s warning. You were so...charming.

“That was very good,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly.

“I’m impressed you knew all the words,” he remarked.

“I’ve been a fan of the movie since I was little,” you told him. “I literally wanted to be Judy Garland.”

“Well, you don’t have very far to go,” he said. “Although, I believe Y/N Y/L/N is perfect just as she is. You don’t have to be Judy Garland.”

Heat came to your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you said again, looking at the floor.

You paused, searching for something to say in return, some compliment to pay him.

“The piano playing was -”

“Please, Y/N, let’s not go there,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips. “My piano playing is absolute shit.”

He held his breath as the words left his mouth, fearful you might take offense to the language or feel he was getting too comfortable. When you clapped your hand over your mouth to stifle the most adorable giggle he’d ever heard, he was relieved.

“It wasn’t shit!” you protested. “Really, it wasn’t!”

“I appreciate you trying to bolster me, but the most redeeming part was playing through your page turn, which was executed flawlessly.”

You laughed some more.

“Well, I am known around here for my page turning skills,” you joked.

“I have a feeling you’ll be known for many things, Y/N,” he said. “Including turning pages for barely capable pianists.” 

Your smile lingered on your lips as your classmates began entering the theater. Sloan eyed you questioningly as he saw how close you were standing to Gwilym. When had you drifted that way? You hadn’t felt yourself move.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you stepped away, back toward center stage. Gwilym got to his feet and followed you, turning to address the other students.

“Welcome back, everyone,” he said.

He took roll quickly before getting into rehearsal. He and Lily were working on their early scene in the wagon. You watched him ease her into comfort with him. She was six, just like her character, Tootie, and though not shy, did need to warm up to people. Sloan’s sister took a seat in the audience, and you saw her soften as she looked on as well.

“Isn’t that sweet?” you said to Sloan as she approached you.

She looked over at Gwilym going back and forth with her niece.

“Precious,” she said flatly. “You and Gwilym seemed pretty cozy.”

You rolled your eyes, but knew you still looked flushed. 

“Oh, please,” you said. “We were just practicing.”

“Y/N, look at me,” she said with uncharacteristic seriousness.

You did.

“I know we’re joking about how hot he is and all that, but it’s not smart to think any further than that,” she said. “He’s a professor - at least right now - and both of you could get into trouble.”

Defensiveness surged through you.

“You’re talking about it like we’ve been sleeping together or something,” you said, harsher than you meant to. “You’re the one who’s been making the jokes. Nothing’s happened, so spare me the lecture.”

“Y/N, I’m just trying to be a friend,” she said.

“Look, it’s perfectly normal to connect with a teacher,” you returned. “It’s nothing more than that.”

She looked you over, skepticism coming over her sharp features.

“If you say so, Y/N,” she said with a sigh. “But, for the record, I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you were looking at him when we walked in. Ever.”

She walked away, leaving you stricken where you stood.

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

Warning! Personal Post because I’m feeling extremely nostalgic. 

Stories about romantic relationships seem to always be about “the one” or “the one you never should have dated because the dynamic was so toxic”. So seldom do we talk about romances that were short and sweet, but never meant to last. 

I just blazed through @cellsshapedlikestars wonderful story, “love's not a competition (but i'm winning)”, which was wonderful (everyone read it), and it drummed up so many memories about the boy I dated my sophomore year in college, let’s call him Jesse, that I wanted to write about him…

The rest of my self-indulgent memories are after the break. 

I’ve found myself thinking of Jesse more often years later, than I ever did in the immediate aftermath of our relationship. It’s not because ours was a burning love, or that he was the one who got away or anything like that, but because my relationship with him set the stage for what I came to expect out of even the most casual romantic relationships I had afterward.  

I’m thinking of him now, because that story I ready is about a girl who doesn’t realize she is dating a boy (though it's obvious to everyone else) until the last possible moment. It’s funny and sweet, and kind of how Jesse and I got together. 

I went to a really small liberal arts college, where the ratio of heterosexual or bisexual men to heterosexual women, does not favor women. That was pretty much fine with me. I was not what you would call relationship-seeking and I liked an uphill climb when it came to my romantic interests. I liked to pine after someone just out of reach, while randomly hooking up with other people on the side (that’s something to unpack on another day). 

Anyway, Jesse was my friend David’s best friend from back home, who took a gap year to bike the Pacific Crest Bicycle trail and then bum around the city where they were from. He came to visit a few times during the spring semester of our freshman year, but he didn’t start attending our college until the start of sophomore year. He entered the fall semester with a ready-made friend group and a flock of thirsty girls clamoring for a single, straight guy who was in great shape from his trip down the California coast. While Jesse seemed great, I immediately placed him in the friend category. He was sporty and tan and gregarious, while I tended to fixate on the brooding intellectual type. Plus, I had no interest in throwing my hat in an already overly full ring. 

Still, we were in the same circle of friends, so very quickly I got used to him being around, and Jesse was easy to love. He was affable and always up for new adventures. Soon, he was my go-to for many things. If my bike got a flat tire or we needed an extra player for a pick-up game of soccer or a racquetball tournament, I’d text Jesse. And he’d text me too, inviting me along to off-campus dinner parties, bike rides, and sometimes just to lie in the hammock he strung up outside his dorm room and smoke weed. He worked at the sailing club, and there were many afternoons I’d skip out on a necessary study session because he invited me out on the catamaran. 

I didn’t read anything into it. Everything was easy with Jesse. Everything was light. Was I attracted to him? Yes, but so was everyone. I knew he was into casual sex because he’d shared a few funny stories from his gap year, one involving breaking someone’s sink, and at least in the first weeks of school, he seemed to very much enjoy and embrace the attention he was getting from the opposite sex. 

While I felt a slight bitterness when I thought about how easy it was to get laid if you were a dude, I didn’t hold his good fortune against him. In fact, I went out of my way to be a good wing-woman. If we were at a party, and I realized we had ended up in a corner with only him, myself and whatever girl was clearly angling for him that night, I’d duck out and leave them alone. 

Early in the semester I had already picked my impossible romance; a senior year philosophy major who lived off campus and was rarely spotted at the parties we attended. The odds were very much against me, but that was fine by me. It kept me from being too distracted, and when we did cross paths, something about the slim possibility lit me up. 

Well, one night the stars aligned. Mr. Philosophy was at a friend’s party and somehow he and I ended up engaging in my favorite type of flirtation; a spirited debate about something theoretical and completely irrelevant where we could both be smug and disagreeable and walk away thinking we had won. We were drunkenly pontificating and probably about two drinks and one late night playlist change away from maybe getting somewhere when Jesse swooped in and completely cock-blocked me!

He just grabbed me by the arm, mid-sentence, and said, “Let’s take a walk.”

Well, of course, I was indignant, and I spent the entire stroll down to the bay explaining why. I could not understand why he was pulling me away from my conversation with the hot senior, when I had been crushing on him all semester. I don’t think Jesse had known that, but when I made it clear, a pained expression crossed his face, but he stayed silent as I continued my tirade. Why did he pull me away? It wasn’t like I was too drunk or anything, and I never pulled this kind of shit with him. When Megan or Rachel or whatever girl seemed into him, I didn’t interfere, even when Jesse was mucking it up by talking too much to me instead of them. Like a good friend, I’d make a graceful exit and leave them to it. So again...after all that, why was he fucking up my love life now? 

As a man of action and not words, at some point Jesse ended my stupid rant with a kiss. A very good kiss that led to more kissing, on the beach and then a stumbly, kissy, messy walk back to my dorm where we kissed and kissed and kissed some more in my bed until finally we fell asleep. I suppose at this point, I should explain that I was still a virgin. I’d fooled around enough to be pretty comfortable with other things, and I wasn’t waiting for any particular reason other than wanting to have sex with someone that I liked enough not to make it a one-time event.

The next morning, after Jesse left, I realized we had spent more time kissing than talking and I still had no idea what to make of the previous evening. Was it a one night dalliance, and we’d go back to being friends? Plausible, knowing his seeming aversion to relationships. Still, it seemed a strange thing for him to seek me out like that. What if it strained our friendship? I didn’t want things to get weird just because we spent a night making out. 

That didn’t happen with other people I had hooked up with that semester and I’d gone farther with most of them... but the others weren’t Jesse. 

And that’s how I realized that I actually liked him. I didn’t really care if things got weird with the others. I didn’t really like them. I liked Jesse. I liked him a lot. 

Cue an entire day of me freaking out while he seemed to disappear off the face of the planet. By the next morning, I had convinced myself that it meant nothing to him, and I should never bring it up ever again. Right when I was resolved to this course of action, I ran into him at the campus cafe, with his parents. They had come for a visit the previous afternoon, which was why he wasn’t on campus and why I’d heard nothing from him. But now, he hugged me and introduced me and even invited me to get lunch with them, and acted like everything was totally normal and still I had no idea what was going on. 

So I joined them and assumed Jesse’s play would be that the night of making out never happened, and that we would slide back into being good pals, and I was ready to swallow my tongue and slide back with him. I think we went to a concert after that and I was still with them when Jesse’s parents left and suddenly it was just he and I, and while I’m sure I stood there, totally awkward, Jesse just scooped me into another kiss. 

We didn’t have a conversation about what any of this meant. We just...started a relationship. A few nights later, we had sex...in a tent, down on the beach, after attending a ribald school tradition; a sex panel led by the most popular students and faculty, more funny than educational, with plenty of condoms and beer for everyone. 

Our first time was messy and a bit awkward but also lovely and fun and then we just kept doing it...all semester. I didn’t need to ask what we were. It was obvious we were a couple, but there was also a clear expiration date on our romance. 

Around the same time we hooked for the first time, I had decided I was transferring at the end of the semester, to another college in a much larger city, across the country. I told Jesse, a few weeks after we started sleeping together almost every night and it didn’t really change anything. Like I said at the beginning, Jesse was not the one who got away. Even as he became embedded in my life and opened me up to a very active (and I really mean active. To this day, Jesse is the most athletic and experimental person I’ve ever slept with) and very fun sex life, we didn’t connect at a level I knew that I wanted to connect with someone...someday. 

It wasn’t until my last week or two at school that he even really opened up about why he pursued me in the first place. Ironically enough, he liked that I never seemed that into him. He knew he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, and he kept getting signals from other girls that they were looking for something more. This is when he admitted that it drove him crazy when I’d walk away at parties. Apparently he had been trying to send the signal for weeks that he was into me, but like a loon, I missed it. Even so, he liked that I didn’t take him into consideration when I decided to transfer and that I didn’t expect too much from him. 

In hindsight, I find this an amusing sentiment, because whether I gave him the expectation or not, he was giving me what I’d guess any of those other girls were looking for in a college relationship. He was there when I needed him, spent almost every night with me, and we shared the same friends. I never said he couldn’t, but I knew that he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else when we were together. He was funny and the sex was good, and he made me feel beautiful and funny and free. 

He was the last person I saw when I left that semester. I stopped at his parent’s house on my way home for the holidays. We didn’t talk about what to do. We knew our relationship was over, but I let him press me up against a wall one last time and enjoyed every minute with him until I drove away for good. 

We didn’t really keep in touch after that, though a few years later, when I went back to see my other friends graduate, we had a cocktail together by the bay. He was in love then, to a dancer who was as vibrant and as adventurous as he was and I was so happy for them both. I had just ended a relationship with a guy who in many respects was Jesse’s polar opposite; a repressed, overly-analytical intellectual (another philosophy major) who talked everything to death. Our relationship was fraught and intense, and seeing Jesse again put a lot of things into perspective for me. 

I never fell in love with him like I had begun to with my more recent ex, but I had enjoyed my time with Jesse far more, and I felt better about myself when I thought about our time together, and that seemed important somehow. Seeing him reminded me that actions could mean just as much as words, if not more, and that any relationship, no matter the scope or intensity, for me, still necessitated a certain level of respect and regard and fun between both parties. 

I’m not sure I have the capacity to fully unpack all my thoughts on the topic, but I do know that I will always look back fondly on my first adult relationship. It was short and sweet, but I know there are a lot of women who have bad memories of their first time, and for that alone I will always be grateful. 

Cheers to Jesse! Always a laugh! Always a good time! And the only person I ever fucked in a tree.