#lecture on medical science

[starstrucktimetravelcowboy]

Lecture on medical science

https://ln.run/MAKBe

[evilkitten3]

team minato modern middle school au where kakashi is the annoying genius who skipped like two grades, rin somehow lives in a hospital (no one's sure which nurse/doctor is her parent but. it's one of them. right? it's gotta be. no way did a bunch of worked-half-to-death medical staff accidentally adopt a baby someone forgot about. definitely one of them is her parent. her birth certificate is around here somewhere i'm sure look i'll get back to you once my shift ends in six hours), and obito is the class clown who lives with his awful anarchist stoner grandpa and calls his house "the cave"

minato is a former student of kakashi's dad's friend and he's their carpool driver bc no way in hell would that man be allowed to teach in real life

[icedrivenwinds]

soooo tempted to write smth that just has so much unnecessary science behind it

[itsmadhvi]

The Evolution of Ayurveda- Lecture Notes by Dr P Ram Manohar

Ayurveda, derived from the Sanskrit words Ayush (life) and Veda (knowledge), translates to the "knowledge of life." This ancient system of medicine has been evolving for thousands of years. It has been shaped by the contributions of countless teachers and scholars. Its earliest texts were well-developed and highly systematized, laying a strong foundation for medical practice in India. The Charaka Samhita focuses on general medicine, while the Sushruta Samhita is renowned for its detailed surgery knowledge.

Ayurveda, derived from the Sanskrit words Ayush (life) and Veda (knowledge), translates to the “knowledge of life.” This ancient system of medicine has been evolving for thousands of years. It has been shaped by the contributions of countless teachers and scholars. Its earliest texts were not only well-developed but also highly systematized, laying a strong foundation for medical practice in…

[simonh]

Translating the Code: A Tale of Tails by National Library of Medicine Via Flickr: Alternate Title(s): Tale of tails Series Title(s): NIH director's Wednesday afternoon lecture series Contributor(s): Allis, C. David., National Institutes of Health,(U.S.). Medical Arts and Photography Branch., National Institute of General Medical Sciences (U.S.) Publication: [Bethesda, Md. : Medical Arts and Photography Branch, National Institutes of Health, 2001] Language(s): English Format: Still image Subject(s): Histones Genre(s): Posters Abstract: Predominantly blue poster with multicolor lettering announcing lecture by C. David Allis, Oct. 2001. Series and sponsor information at top of poster. Visual image may be a representation of histone. Title and speaker information on left side of poster. Lecture date, time, and location near bottom of poster. Extent: 1 photomechanical print (poster) : 82 x 46 cm. Technique: color NLM Unique ID: 101455873 NLM Image ID: C02741 Permanent Link: resource.nlm.nih.gov/101455873

[jobsnotices]

Nobel College Vacancy 2024 for Lecturers of Various Faculties

Nobel College Vacancy 2024 for Lecturers of Various Faculties. Interested and eligible candidates can apply within 4 days of vacancy announcement. CAREER OPPORTUNITY Nobel College Vacancy 2024 for Lecturers of Various Faculties Nobel College is seeking qualified lecturers for various programs including Nursing, Medical Laboratory Technology, Public Health, Pharmacy, Nursing Science, Optometry,…

[bnpd]

❛❛ NERD-JO .ᐟ >ᴗ< ❜❜ :

SYNOPSIS: you're a new transfer at a big prestigious private university. what happens when the first friend you make is a cute nerd? will you get your chance to start fresh? or will your newfound 'friendship' bring you unwanted drama in the future.

DRABBLE WRD COUNT: 2.6K pairings: rich nerd!deans nephew gojo x reader tags: cute nerd gojo, reader is kind of mysterious, gojo makes me chuckle here. NOT PROOFREAD (sorry) ill come back and remove some grammatical errors. this might be cheeks fr

NOTEᝰ.ᐟ : im late to the nerd gojo party </3 but please enjoy! please do not steal my little nerdjo pngs just because they have my 'bnpd' if you want the individual png pls just shoot me a text :) lmk if there are any issues, so i can fix them !!

a tall man sits in the far back of the lecture hall. figure hunched over the desk as he scribbles away intensely in his journal. 30 minutes earlier than the usual start of the lecture. 

the glasses that sit delicately on his nose bridge slide down every once in a while. his white ruffled hair stays still as he shuffles in his seat to adjust his posture. 

many are intimidated by his silent and blank stare. everyone but students in his science club feel that way. he’s quite the chatterbox contrary to popular belief. ask him about his favorite physics theories and he’s chatting your ear off.

he doesn’t go to parties, but invite him to a museum or a bookstore? he’s already in the car.

he’s quite polished. gojo can be one of those pretentious nerds, but he doesn’t mean to! he has lived a privileged life and acts like any other rich college student would. 

comes from a wealthy family and doesn't hide it, but he also doesn't run around telling everyone.

it might seem like he dresses like a regular guy but his clothes are still expensive. you'll occasionally find him wearing a sweater vest and button up tucked into his well-tailored pants altered to fit his long legs on formal days when he has a research symposium presentation or a meeting with the steam department about improving certain aspects he finds are not up to his standards.

most of the time, he’ll wear comfortable clothes. wears glasses, cliche, but he wears them more out of practical appeal and necessity. 

his eyes are sensitive due to a medical condition he has. so, the glasses he wears are tailored to prevent his eyes from straining. his parents urge him to wear the endless supply of contacts he has but he’s quite comfortable with his glasses. 

every pair of glasses he owns has his initials engraved on the temples, whether it’s gold or silver. whatever matches the aesthetic of the pair of glasses.

when he was younger. his parents would fund his personal ‘academic’ projects. he’d be busy every summer at a science or math camp. if they sent him to a summer camp that wasn't academically related; at camp you’d find him reading far away from everyone else. whether in front of a lake or a quiet little place in the woods. 

now? he’s still the same. just bigger. doesn’t go to summer camp but definitely stacks up his summer with internships or side projects. on top of that, he’ll spend time volunteering at local schools, teaching students in high school or middle school.

very good with kids, and more patient with them than he would be with his uni study partners. 

donates whatever money he earns at internships to local communities to aid students in pursuing their education. he strongly believes that if he can pursue education freely, so should everyone else.

his timer goes off quietly and he stops scribbling down his memorized equations. he huffs out a breath of relief yet frustration. 

 i’m still missing one… he thinks to himself. if anyone with an outside perspective were to see him they’d imagine gears turning inside of his head.

he flips the page, resets his timer, and starts again.

time passes and he realizes class has now begun. he was so caught up studying, he failed to realize that the class is now packed with other students. a few scattered seats remain vacant. 

the professor enters the class and silently unpacks her bag before greeting the class and breaking the silence, “let’s have a great semester.” she wastes no time diving into the lecture. 

gojo, contrary to popular belief, sits in the middle section of the lecture hall. he’s not fond of the back because for starters, he’s easily distracted and he can’t hear from all the way back there. the middle is just right.

he’s kind of a loner, by choice. he's just always being productive on campus.

you’ll often see him sitting alone, busying himself with his studies unless he has a meeting with his club about an upcoming math or science competition. if it’s not the season of academic olympiads, he’s alone. 

he only has two close friends: geto and shoko. geto majors in psychology. shoko is, of course, pursuing her dream of being a doctor. she’s a biology major undergoing the pre-med track. 

gojo has yet to have a girlfriend in college.

not because he can’t find someone interested in him, absolutely not. he’s handsome, intelligent, quiet, kind, and rich. he's the most sought after bachelor on campus. with his brains and looks, he's every girls wet dream.

unfortunately for him, women are always hitting on him but quite frankly, he’s not interested. or sometimes he doesn’t catch on to the fact that a woman is subtly flirting with him. 

not because he’s dense, but how would he find something he’s not even looking for?

like right now, when you gently plop down on the seat next to him. you’re quite fond of sitting in the front but the lecture hall was overwhelmingly full. there were other open seats but he looked to be the most productive and you needed that.

you were a transfer. which is odd to be one this late into college, given that you’re a senior trying to complete your last year. 

the university is a pretty big private school so no one notices new transfers nor do they care. but within them, are those who do. 

like gojo. 

he doesn’t realize you’ve sat next to him until the end of the lecture. given that he was too busy scribbling away in his journal. 

one thing about gojo is that he likes to leave when everyone is already gone and the professor is free to approach. he’s a tiny bit surprised to see it seems you think the same. but for reasons he’s not aware of, you’re there for a reason other than academics. 

he silently observes you as you approach the professor. his eyebrows raise a bit when you share a hug and it has him adjusting his glasses to make sure he’s seeing things correctly. 

interesting

you continue to sit next to him in the following weeks, seeing him twice a week on tuesdays and thursdays. you began to find yourself looking forward to it. you get to sit next to a tall dorky handsome stranger? you’ll be getting perfect attendance. 

you rarely catch a glance of him outside of class, but every time you do he is so focused. 

the more you studied him while he studied something else, the more you realized how attractive he was. even if you knew that prior to your silent observations.

from the outfits you could tell he spent some time on in the morning—you assumed he woke up earlier than everyone else, to the way his obsession with organization—you took note of when he set his things down for class and neatly organized his pens, pencils and journal for notes.  

don’t be mistaken though. one tiny peek at his journal was enough to see that despite his need to tidy things on the outside…his notes were written haphazardly and quick. notes are a reflection of your mind, and if you’re constantly thinking then your notes will be a reflection of that.

you had also come to the conclusion that he was a man that was yet to become aware of his height. he moved around like he didn’t know how much of a walking tank he was. you hoped he never found out.

the best thing about him wasn’t any of the things you listed, but it was a few of the habits he had. 

everything he owned was personalized. from the pencils he used, to his backpack. you made that discovery when you forgot your pencil pouch in the library.

it took you a total of 2 minutes to gather the courage to turn to the mysterious man beside you, and ask him for a pencil. 

“excuse me,” you said gently, “im sorry, but can i bother you for a pencil? im so sorry.” 

he stared at you and you thought he would explode you with his bright blue snow glazed eyes. 

he cracked a tiny toothless smile and you figuratively crossed your fingers, hoping he wasn’t silently judging you or worse—came to the conclusion that were unprepared and incompetent. 

you watched him intently as he reached to grab his backpack, taking in the way the black expensive leather had his initials engraved in the bottom corner. he reached his hand into his backpack and pulled out–what looked to be the most elegant, technologically advanced sleek black mechanical pencil.

“don’t worry about giving it back,” he says politely but then he goes for the blow “i know you might need it in the future.” with a hint of pretentiousness. oh!

“well… thank you,” you say a bit taken back as you reluctantly take the pencil from his extended hand. your face falls a little at his response and you deflate a little in your chair.

did he think you were…poor? god forbid a girl asks for a pencil. you’d, unfortunately, been perceived. and in the worst way possible. he probably thinks you’re irresponsible, and an idiot!

you look at the pencil and realize that–of course–he has his initials engraved in his mechanical pencils too. 

g.s.

you bite back a smile that might give away how endearing you found it. that is so cute.

he has his initials on almost everything. you try not to crack a smile at how adorable yet endearing that is. 

unfortunately, you couldn’t really put the pencil to good use because he kept fidgeting in his seat the entire class. it distracted and worried you at the same time. which was odd because he never did that. 

is he upset that he had to give you one of his spare pencils? will he ask for it back? 

as you were packing your bags to leave, you felt him heavily staring at you. it makes you pause your movement and then turn to him, and sure enough, he was looking at you. you a tiny sigh leaves your lips. 

“yes? is this about your pencil? because i have my own i just needed–”

“im sorry.” he interrupts you and it shuts you up immediately. 

what?

he might have seen the confusion in your eyes. “about what i said about the pencil, i didn’t mean for it to come off that way. i was just saying because i have a lot of them so it wouldn’t have made a difference. and i was guessing maybe you didn’t. wait–no. i meant like if you didn’t–.not that i think you can’t get your own pencils or anything like that because i am super sure you can. but if you need it you can keep it. not that you need it right? because everyone needs a pencil. like one time i–”

you stare at him as he rambles on. you’re completely endeared with the way he doesn’t look you in the eyes and the way his hands move around to prove his point. 

he huffs out a breath of frustration. you on the other hand huff out a breath of amusement and the stranger before you finally moves to look at you.

“it’s okay.” you dismiss his worries, standing their idly as you mirror his movements. 

“i just thought i might have inconvenienced you by asking,” you tell him honestly, you grab your computer and gently store it away in your backpack as you continue your conversation, “im usually prepared, but i accidentally left my pencil bag in the library this morning.”

he gives you a tiny affirmative nod, taking in your words. he swings his backpack over his shoulder, and loops both arms into their respective loops, wearing the backpack on both shoulders. 

cute.

there's an awkward silence that follows you both before the door slams shut and you realize then that the professor has now walked out. 

the stranger huffs out a small awkward laugh, “you didn’t–by the way,” he speaks then, “inconvenience me, I mean”, he clarifies. now it’s your turn to nod at him. 

this is so awkward, it almost makes you laugh. 

he breaks the silence again, “im satoru gojo, by the way.” he politely introduces himself by extending his hand in a respectful manner.

you extend yours in return, shaking his hand before sharing your name with him as well. 

“i have time to kill,” he offers, “why don’t we take a walk around campus before then? the weather is great.”

after your shared walk with gojo you learned a lot about him. 

he recently discovered his interest in kpop after his friend, shoko, played a song during a shared car ride. 

he’s a senior, like you, studying engineering and double minoring in business and mathematics. he originally wanted to minor in physics but he said his father urged him to do business instead. he had to compromise.

that doesn’t stop him from taking physics courses out of pure enjoyment though, exceeding the 18 credit limit. 

he’s also an on-campus tutor and does a work study job at the library. the old librarian on campus loves him and appreciates his extensive knowledge on literature and figured that if he spent all his time there already, might as well let him get paid for him. 

when she approached him, his ears turned a light shade of pink and you could just imagine gojo pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose before they slipped as he hurried to apologize. 

she waved him off and urged him to just work there already. gojo then started working with them a week later after financial aid finalized the paperwork. he remembers the look of the financial aid lady when she looked at his file and saw that he was beyond in need of financial aid. 

all she did was raise and eyebrow but clicked away. thankfully, gojo managed to get the work-study payments signed off as a form of volunteering hours rather than an extra below minimum wage salary.

he didn’t share with you the last part about his tiny altercation with financial aid though. he assumed you had no idea who he was. and you hoped to keep it that way. 

you in turn shared with him that you were transferred from another school. he already knew that (he paid a visit to the dean but he’ll never tell you that, given that the dean is his uncle afterall) he didn't know why. so, he asked.

“i transferred because there were some personal issues there and now i just want to start fresh.”

gojo raises a questioning eyebrow, but decides to respect your privacy. he hopes one day you’ll trust him enough to tell him. 

the rest of the chat was quite delightful. you were about to invite him to the cute nearby cafe you saw on your way to school, but before you could muster up the courage. 

a chime was heard from gojos pants pocket. he excused himself to check his phone. you stood there idly as he let out a tiny groan of frustration. 

“im sorry–” he apologized again. the look of pure regret made your lip quirk up again. he was so cute and polite.

“i hate to cut our…trip—short but it kind of slipped my mind that i scheduled a study group with a class i T.A. for.”

you wave him off, “it’s okay!” you reassure him with an upbeat tone in your voice, “we share a class so i’ll see you around.”

he bids you a quick goodbye and you watch his retreating figure. you sigh and head to the opposite direction. 

this semester will be exciting. 

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 . join my tag list : ⟢ join my girlypop disc: link ‹𝟹

TAGLIST : @luvwithau : @sugacor3 : @bloopsstuff : @fushitoru : @serenityfauna : @luna-v-roiya : @rjswrld : @fartm : @bammbi-jeon127 : @gojoslefttoenail : @laviefantasie : @red-viewe : @danakul : @xchannelorange : @honoredalone : @plutosgold : @jotarohat : @shadowytiger : @um-no-ok : @lavender-hvze : @nvmlolo : @rintcrous : @jaelahh-blog-blog : @fuckerenyaeger : @bigbodiezz : @simp-plague : @lialia3945 : @gojostit : @fangirlingoverfanfic : @deluluforcarlos55 : @manyno :

omg! i didn't realize how many people signed up for my taglist <33 tysm ! currently working on a masterlist too. long shot gojo. i have not forgotten you.

©2025 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate.

[euphoriaslux]

two’s a party.

summary: you recently transferred to stanford, and decide to tutor a tennis player in your class. he has a friend. severe indecency ensues.

word count: 3.3k

warnings : smut, threesomes, f!oral receiving, swearing, smoking, drinking. slight cuck energy if you squint (i’m sorry ((no i’m not))). no challengers spoilers!

a/n: this fic got away from me big time but this movie has rotted my brain and as a result i have written utter debauchery that i will not apologize for. just had to get this out of my head, enjoy!

-

stanford science hall. monday , march 3.

You swear the last thing you’ll hear before your body is lowered into your grave is the process of lactic acid breakdown.

It’s 2:30 PM. Kinesiology 189 with Professor Wilson, a lanky middle-aged man with a PhD in exercise science and a half-grown beard that you don’t think will ever fully grow in, is almost over. He’s teaching Extended Studies of the Human Body in a humid classroom filled with student-athletes, most of whom are trying to stay awake, trying to hide that they’re taking a nap, or making no attempt to hide that they’re on their phones. You don’t really blame any of them, because the professor’s voice is so soft and monotone that it feels like he’s begging everyone to pay attention to anything but him. You’ve managed to stay somewhat on course with the thread of today’s lecture, the notebook in front of you filled with scribbles of incomplete molecular structures and somewhat legible drawings of the muscular anatomy of a hamstring.

This class is required for your biology major since you’re on a pre-medicine track. You don’t know why you’re doing it, the whole doctor thing, but you’ve developed a weird fixation for this class. The functionality of the body, how muscles stretch and tear with each movement, and how amino acids work to build them back even bigger.

And, possibly because of the tennis player who sits four rows ahead of you every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

His last name is Donaldson. You know because of the faded label on the massive bag he throws on the floor every time he walks into class, at least ten minutes late with a backward Stanford Tennis cap on his head. His first name remains a mystery, partly because he never talks in class, and mainly because you’ve made no attempt to speak to him. You like to think it’s because you’re so focused on the curriculum.

Professor Wilson knows your name, though, since you’re in his office hours every Thursday at 11 A.M. In part because he gives out most of the answers to his homework, and because you just transferred to Stanford your last year and very desperately need a letter of recommendation for medical school. Hence why you agreed to tutor a student with lower than 60% in the class during one of your meetings. And why everyone in the class was staring at you right now.

“... first come first serve, so reach out to her sooner rather than later.”

You give a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room. Most people have looked away, back to their distraction of choice, but you meet eyes with the fluffy blonde-haired tennis player.

stanford library. wednesday, march fifth.

It’s 11 A.M., and you feel like your brain is about to explode if you look at another practice set.

“Hey”.

Your head whips around to the harsh whisper, only to be met with the blue-eyed mystery from your class. He has that large bag slung over his shoulder, with the end of a tennis racket peeking out of it. His hair is slightly stuck to his face, and his compression tee is slick to his chest like a second skin.

“Hi,” you whisper back. He smiles before tossing his bag on the floor and sitting in the chair across from you, either unaware of or completely ignoring the glares he’s receiving from the other students studying.

“You know,” he pulls out some kind of nutrition bar from his bag, unwrapping it and taking an aggressive bite, “for someone advertising their services, you’re pretty hard to find.”

“You’re in Mr. Wilson’s class, right?” you ask, hoping your subdued voice will remind him that he’s in a notoriously quiet place. He hums, pointing at you with his half-eaten snack.

“And I’m trying not to fail, but you didn’t leave your number anywhere in the classroom, and you bolt after every class. So how am I supposed to patronize your tutoring services…” he trails off, his volume the same level as when he walked in. You furrow your brows as he leans back into the chair.

“That’s when you say who you are.”

You feel a burn on the back of your neck as you tell him your name. He glances down towards the problem set you’ve nearly finished.

“How do you turn in any of those, I can’t get halfway through one of them.”

You pause for a moment before leaning slightly across the table to whisper:

“This new weird thing called studying. I think it just got approved by the CDC.”

“Very funny,” he shakes his head as reaches for your binder with your class schedule printed out on the front of it.

“Why are you taking so many bio classes?”

“Because I’m a biology major,” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, you’re making this too easy for me,” you raise your hands in conceit.

“I have practice every day at five so you can tutor me for like an hour beforehand,” he says before standing up, crunching up the silver wrapper and stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue jeans. You scoff at his sentence.

“Well, thank you for so generously fitting me into your schedule,” you roll your eyes, turning the page in your textbook. He grins.

“Tell the coach you’re there for Art. They’ll let you through.”

stanford tennis courts. friday, march 7th.

It’s 4 PM, and the California sun is sweltering. Your shorts feel like they’ve become a part of your legs, and your bag feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. By the time you make it to the tennis courts Art is already on the green concrete, shirtless with beads of sweat dripping down his face and chest. You hear his grunts as he sprints across the court, hitting the ball toward a slightly taller brunette with dangerously short red shorts. You watch them at the entrance for a few minutes, slightly entranced as the two play so seamlessly, as if they know every move the other person is going to make. You force your eyes away as you walk up the bleachers, stepping over leftover water bottles and chip bags to sit down and grab your notes from your backpack. It takes a couple more minutes for Art to notice you, yelling your name after he turns around to grab a ball his partner had hit particularly hard. You wave, and he says something you can’t hear to the brunette before the two of them jog across the courts and up the stands to where you are, blocking the sun as the two stand side by side.

“Who’s your friend?” you ask as you stuff the problem set you were working on in between the pages of your notebook.

“I’m Patrick,” he says, with a toothy smile and his ears poking out from under his hair. He has a bit more of a boyish charm to him than Art does, whose eyes are glued to his brunette counterpart.

“Are you in Mr. Wilson’s class too?”

Patrick opens his mouth to answer but Art speaks first, slightly pushing his friend with his shoulder as he says “He doesn’t go to Stanford, too busy being a tennis pro.”

Patrick rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t leave his face. You notice how different this Art feels from the one in the library, how direct his playfulness is and how close he and Patrick stand together, their sweaty torsos nearly melding together.

Interesting.

“Like, Andre Agassi level pro?” you smile as the two of them laugh. Patrick raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, and you can’t help but take a glance at the exposed skin just above his waistband.

“Sorry, he’s like the only tennis player I know.”

“No, no I’m taking that as a compliment that you think I’m on the level of Agassi. No takebacks if you see me play,” Patrick points at you.

“Will do,” you salute, turning over to Art.

“You ready to study?” you ask him as he makes a comically loud groan, his head falling back. Patrick laughs, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.

“You do remember that’s why I’m here, right? Midterms are in two weeks.”

“I definitely have not forgotten that.” he says. You purse your lips just as Patrick’s eyes seem to light up.

“I’m staying at the Courtyard Hotel for the weekend. You two can come over and study, I need to review my last match anyway. Kill two birds with one stone,” Patrick suggests.

“Just studying?”

“Just studying,” Art says, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulder. You glance between the two of them, trying to decipher the unspoken communication they seem to be doing. But you can’t crack it, so you shrug.

“Sure.”

“Let us finish this set, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”

“Wow, what a privilege. Don’t take too long, it’s hell on Earth out here!” you yell the last part as Art jogs down the steps and back down towards the net. You look up once you realize that the sun is still being blocked, and Patrick is still standing in front of you.

“You ever play?” he grins, flipping the tennis racket in his hand.

“Tennis? God, no, that would not be a pretty sight. I’ll stick to what I’m good at,” you gesture to the books and notes in your lap. Patrick nods.

“If you ever want to learn, I could teach you sometime, you know if-” he’s cut off by Art yelling his name, and you both glance to see him with his hands on his hips.

“Go, don’t keep your boyfriend waiting,” you wave him off, and you swear you can see him blushing. Must have been the glare.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder as he runs toward Art.

courtyard hotel. saturday, march 8.

It’s 11 pm. There’s a cold shiver in the elevator as you wait to get to the fourth floor, your tennis shoes tapping against the floor as one hand plays with the handle of the pack of beer in your hand while the other crumples and re-crumples the piece of paper with the hotel room number Patrick scribbled on it.

what are you doing?

You don’t have time to think about the consequences of your actions as the robotic voice signals that you’re on the fourth floor, the elevator doors fluttering open. It’s like your feet have a mind of their own, as you find yourself almost mindlessly wandering through the hotel halls until you’re planted in front of room 4B. You raise your hand to knock on the door but before you can make contact with the wood it’s thrust open, and Patrick is standing behind it. His dark hair is slightly tousled around his face, his striped shirt unbuttoned and his black boxer briefs low on his waist. He’s smiling, that same big smile as before, but his face is a little flushed, a gentle pink hue touching his cheeks. The two of you don’t say anything for a few seconds, as if you were both testing to see who would concede first to acknowledge the other’s presence. You raise the pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your right hand.

“I brought studying fuel.”

You were never good at waiting.

Patrick laughs before he moves slightly out of the way to allow you to walk into his room. It’s small, with a queen-sized bed and a tiny desk, and the A/C emits an odd rumbling sound as it smacks against the window. Clothes and scorecards are strewn across the floor, and the scent of cigarettes permeates the room. You place the alcohol on the floor before deciding to sit on the bed, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs. Patrick seems to stall for a moment, smiling to himself before closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock the door, but you didn’t notice.

“Art’s not here yet?” you ask, watching as Patrick walks over and tears open the cardboard case, cracking open a can. Taking a sip, he leans against the desk as he smiles.

“Art can be bad with time.”

“As I’ve noticed,” you reach your hand out to motion towards the drink and Patrick hands it to you, staring as you take a large sip.

“Well,” you wipe the side of your mouth, “I told him to bring the topics he wanted to study, so I guess we can’t do anything until he gets here.”

Patrick nods with a slight pout, his fingers playing with the pop tab of the can. “I guess we can’t.”

“How’s tennis… stuff,” you laugh as you finish the question, not sure of exactly what to say.

Patrick seems to tense a little at the mention of the sport, moving over to sit next to you on the bed. His knee grazes your leg and you feel a slight buzz at the contact as he takes the beer from your hand.

“I’m kinda fucking it up right now,” he says, and you furrow your brows.

“How? You were like, really good yesterday.”

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He hands you the beer and you finish it off, placing the empty can at the bottom of your feet.

“I’m good with Art. It feels so fucking natural and easy with him. But in my other matches, I don’t know. I just … can’t replicate it.”

You nudge him with your leg.

“Sounds like you two were made to play tennis together.”

He makes a noise of agreement, his hands slowly moving to ghost over your thigh.

“You and Art are pretty close?” you ask as he plays with the bottom hem of your shorts, but he doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a yes.

“Do you ever get jealous?”

“Of Art?” he asks, almost incredulously. You shrug.

“Yeah, or jealous of the girls he’s with. Either or.”

Patrick sits on that for a few moments before smirking.

“What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.”

You laugh at that, a real deep laugh, and Patrick giggles next to you, the both of you tipsy from the can of beer you finished. You reach over and put your hand on his flushed face, rubbing your hand across his cheek.

“What were you doing before I came?” you feel his face warm even more against your skin as you position yourself closer to him.

“Practicing- or, sorry, rereading my scorecards from my last match.”

You tutted as you moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently running your hands through his hair.

“You can tell me the truth, Patrick.”

He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand before looking up at you as if to check if that was too much. Whatever your expression is gives him the confidence to move down to your neck, his tongue licking your skin.

“I think you know.”

You feel a pull in your lower stomach at his words, muffled by his mouth nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he sucks hard enough for you to put your hand around on his face at the pressure. Pulling his face up, the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and his eyes glance toward your lips. You wanted to wait, to make him beg and plead for it, but your body seemingly pulled you forward as your pressed your mouth onto his.

You were really quite bad at waiting.

He tastes like tobacco and faintly of the fruit medley in the dining hall, and you sigh as his lips interlock with yours and his hand grabs the back of your neck, pressing you into him. The kiss gets messy and hard, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and into your mouth as you lift your leg to straddle Patrick, grinding into him. He whimpers into the kiss as his calloused hands drop down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for a moment before dropping his hand into your underwear. You grind just a little bit faster as his fingers press circles into your clit, covering your mouth with your hand as you moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he uses his other hand to guide your hips, and your move your hands down to tug firmly on his hair. You can feel your climax building, the pressure in your stomach getting closer and closer to taking you over the edge-

You both jump at the sound of the hotel room dor slamming shut. Art is standing there, in that damn backward cap and a Stanford tee shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing as you and Patrick sit up straight, him adjusting his crotch and you smooth down your shirt, avoiding his gaze. Finally, the silence is broken by Art laughing.

“Christ, I’m not the cops,” he slips out of his slides as he waltzes over and opens a can of beer, drinking about half of it in one go. You look at him, and at Patrick, and then back at him, not knowing what the hell you just got yourself into.

“You want to fuck him right?” Art asks, and you can’t help your small gasp at how easily he said that. You glance at Patrick, hoping he’ll know what to say, but he’s just staring at Art.

“I-um,”

“So, no one’s stopping you,” Art cuts you off, taking a final swig of his beer and moving to stand directly in front of you. You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can talk Patrick’s mouth is on yours again, his hand roaming your body. His grip is firmer now, his fingertips digging into the side of your stomach. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you separate, breathless as you pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Patrick’s mouth moves down to your neck, then your collarbones, and then your chest as he reaches around to take of your bra, and you feel on fire from Art’s gaze across the room. As Patrick kisses down your stomach and yanks down your shorts, you turn over to meet Art’s eyes.

“Come here.”

Whatever resolve Art was holding onto crumbles as he quickly takes off his shirt and slips out of his Nike shorts, tossing his hat on the dresser. In a flash Art’s hands are on your neck, tilting your head around to kiss you as Patrick lifts up your hips so he can take off your underwear. Art’s lips are softer than Patrick’s but he kisses you a little bit harder, his hand cupping the base of your neck. Somehow, they both taste the same. You moan into Art’s mouth as you feel Patrick’s tongue swirl around your clit, rolling your hips into his mouth as Art’s cock presses into your back. It’s just so much so fast, and that familiar buzz starts to pool in your lower stomach.

“Look at him,” Art turns your head to Patrick and you look into his eyes as you cum, Art’s hands hold your head forward as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Patrick’s hands are digging into your hips as he stares up at you and Art. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, leaning against Art as Patrick leans back up, his mouth a few inches from yours.

“Who do you want first?

[wheeboo]

pulse points | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. Being the TA for your anatomy class has always been really rewarding, especially stemming in your passion for the medical field. But as it’s approaching the peak of the school semester and labs have gotten more intense, you aren’t surprised to be dedicating your time to tutoring your strangely handsome, dorky, yet enigmatic classmate during after school hours — and reassuring him how to not be afraid of dissections. PAIRING. wen junhui x TA!reader (ft. performance unit as jun's roommates + mentions of wonwoo and jihoon) GENRE. fluff, classmates to lovers, humour WARNINGS/TAGS. unrealistic TA x student dynamics lmao, lots of medical sciency-anatomy talk, talks about dissections n cutting into things (they dissect a sheep brain), mentions of tools used for dissections, yn is wayyy too studious its a bit unhealthy perhaps, their love language is napping together n sharing food :(, alcohol and drinking (yn gets drunk 😣), they flirt in the middle of a damn dissection AHHAHA WORD COUNT. 15.9k

notes: this is my fic for the "back to school" collab hosted by @camandemstudios! i hope u all enjoy <3 was lowkey hating this fic as i wrote it but... i think it turned out fine?!?! thank you to all my moots, specifically @bananabubble @slytherinshua @etherealyoungk and the collab discord server for either helping me w ideas n brainrot or reading over the fic!! love u all to the stars and back <3

Three dollars is not enough for Jun to buy himself lunch. 

He could probably snag himself a stale, English muffin from the dining hall, but then he’d be walking around campus with a dry tongue until after his classes end. And unsurprisingly, he forgot his water bottle back in his apartment. Briefly, he considers texting Soonyoung or Minghao to perhaps drop by the apartment and grab his water bottle or even a quick snack that’ll last him, but the two of them were already knee deep enough of responsibilities of their own. 

Fucking capitalism. 

He’s already out of breath speed walking all the way from across campus and through four different hallways. The large windows of the science building bring in the natural sunlight at the peak of the afternoon, allowing it to cascade across the polished floors and right to the ends of his feet with every step that he takes. 

Jun purses his lips together tightly as he rounds one last corner before arriving in front of his current class: Anatomy. The quick glance at the time displayed on his phone shows that he’s around eight minutes late, which is way better than the fifteen minutes from last week. His shoulders slouch slightly with a bit of dread as he reaches for the doorknob and pulls it open.

Compared to the beginning of the year, there’s more empty seats in the lecture hall now. Honestly, Jun is surprised he hasn’t dropped out of the class yet, because his grade in all honesty isn’t… the best, to put it simply𑁋he’s passing, somehow, but just barely.

But he simply can’t afford to drop it and take on a new class like a snap of a finger, and he knows that if he bails now, he’ll only be prolonging his graduation date, a situation neither his parents nor his bank account would be happy about. He wasn’t even supposed to be in this class in the first place, but his horrible procrastination habits and the fact that the other classes he wanted filled up so quickly left him with no other choice.

Jun sits down in a seat near the back of the class, trying to blend in and hoping the professor won’t notice his tardiness. He swiftly pulls out his notebook and laptop and redirects his focus to the front of the classroom, where he sees Professor Lee already lecturing something about vascular anatomy and blood circulation, motioning towards the slideshow displayed on the screen. 

“…the brachiocephalic trunk branches off the aortic arch, which divides into the right subclavian artery and the right common carotid artery. These arteries supply blood to the arm and the brain, respectively…”

The words seem to flow through his brain like water. Even when he jots them down in his notes for him to study later, he reads the words like hieroglyphics. Perhaps it’s the hunger getting to him or just the mounting stress, but the lecture feels like it’s slipping through his fingers.

By the time Professor Lee finishes with the lecture, he has five pages of notes that feel like a jumble of terms and diagrams.

However, just as he thought he might finally catch a break, the slideshow switches to the next slide. 

“Now, let’s discuss the final major lab that will be crucial for your grades,” Professor Lee explains, a determined look on his face. “Your dissections that you will be finishing the year off with. I’m letting you all know about these in advance so you would have plenty of time to prepare.”

Jun’s stomach drops. Dissections. Of course, he knew it was coming, as it was quite literally listed in eye-catching bold letters in the syllabus at the beginning of the term. Yet the thought of cutting into anything and seeing its insides makes him almost squeamish. 

“This will account for a significant portion of your final grade. I can’t stress enough how important it is to take this seriously. Remember that dissections aren’t just about retaining names and locations in the body. They’re about seeing the relationships between different structures and understanding how they function together in real life.”

Every fibre of his being is aching for him to raise his hand and stupidly refute. He imagines what he’d say𑁋“I’m not good with blood,” or “Is there another activity I could do because I’m absolutely scared shitless?”𑁋but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he slouches further in his seat, hoping to disappear. He weighs all of his options, but they’re all equally unappealing: he can’t drop the class, he can’t afford to fail, and he certainly can’t magically become proficient at dissections overnight.

“Since the class has an uneven amount of students and the limited amount of specimens we have, I’ve decided to pair you all up. Y/N, may you hand out the partner lists?”

Jun feels himself tense in his seat as his eyes scan the room and land on you. Not only are you the TA of the class, but your seemingly calm demeanour as you drift throughout the room handing each student paperwork makes you appear almost intimidating to his eyes. 

When you finally reach him, he swears he catches a glimpse of a slight curl to your lips as you silently hand him the slip of paper that contains his partner assignment, before walking down to the next person. 

At first, the paper essentially states the same information that was discussed earlier: the dissection assignment, guidelines, and a list of required materials. But then his gaze falls to the part that matters most: his partner's name.

Y/N L/N, it reads. You’re his partner. Shit.

Your calm, composed attitude and role as the TA have already set a high bar for expectations in his mind. You’re probably going to be hyperanalysing and dissecting every aspect of his class performance, knowing his poor little heart wouldn’t be able to handle all that. You probably already have this tarnished reputation of him in your mind, with his frequent tardiness and the amount of times he’s dozed off in class.

Jun glances around the lecture hall, noticing other students exchanging whispers and glances at their own partner assignments. Some seem relieved, while others look as apprehensive as he feels. His stomach churns with the thought of having to work closely with you.

Professor Lee clears his throat and speaks, “Now that you all know your partners, I request that you all sit next to each other. These will be your seats starting from today and until the lab finishes. I also strongly encourage you all to exchange contact information with each other. Your collaboration together will be vital to your success in this lab.”

As the students shuffle around, Jun finds himself stuck in an uncomfortable limbo, watching as everyone pairs up and settles into their new seats, naturally exchanging contact information with one another. Then he shuffles for his backpack that was leaning against his chair in order to go find where you sit, but as he’s about to stand up, he’s met with you taking a seat right next to him.

Your eyes meet. A faint smile crosses your features. His backpack slips off his shoulders and falls to the floor with a dramatic thump.

“Hi,” You greet him softly, before offering a hand to him. “Granola bar? Had an extra one.”

Jun just blinks, eyes flickering between your face and the hand you have extended out to him. Then he awkwardly clears his throat, tentatively reaching out to grab the granola bar from your grasp, and the warmth emitting from your hand seems to crawl up his neck. 

“Thanks,” he mutters sheepishly, shifting his gaze away to hide a small upturn to the corners of his lips. 

The rest of class passes by in a blur, mainly with Professor Lee going over proper attire to wear and safety protocols for the dissection labs. And when the clock strikes dismissal time, students begin to filter out of the lecture hall, chatting amongst themselves as Jun struggles to stuff his laptop inside his backpack. 

You’re already gone to the front to talk to Professor Lee when Jun looks over. He watches as you hand in what looks like a stack of paper, only to be given another one right back, probably of assignments that the class has done lately. The air of professionalism that surrounds you is quite admirable, he would say. 

You seem to exchange a few more words with Professor Lee before turning on your heel to leave the lecture hall, the stack of papers neatly held under your arm.

By the time Jun is already on his way to his next class, he pulls the granola bar that you had given him out from the pocket of his jeans, unwrapping it and taking a bite out of it, savouring the moment as it relieves his nerves and gnawing hunger. 

Then by the time finishes his last class for the day, reality hits him the second he steps out of the building. Figuratively, and maybe even literally, at this point. 

He forgot to get your number for this lab.

The click of your pen echoes throughout the vast lecture hall. Unintelligible mutters leave your lips as your eyes quickly scan over the papers in front of you with ease. Among the many tasks you have assigned as TA, grading assignments is one of them, and you find yourself marking and correcting each paper just as you’ve done many times before. 

There used to be rumours floating around that your grading style was particularly strict, even more so than Professor Lee. Though it was probably spread around with the intention to intimidate other students and establish your reputation as someone annoyingly meticulous, you hardly let it get to you. 

The truth is, you were fair in your grading, but thorough. You didn’t see the point in letting half-baked work slide, especially when you knew these assignments could determine someone’s future. Medicine has been your passion for as long as you could remember, and that dedication extended into almost everything you did. Being the TA for the class was just one factor of it. 

It’s much, much quieter after school hours when most classes have finished for the day, and it’s natural to bask in the peacefulness that drifts throughout the barren room. You sort out the papers in front of you in a neat stack before taking a moment to stretch your arms up above your head, a soft sigh leaving you at the tension dissipating away from your limbs. 

As you begin to shuffle through all the papers in front of you𑁋separating them into piles of graded assignments and unfinished ones that you’ll save for later on𑁋there’s a quiet knock at the door that makes you pause in place. You turn your head towards the door, anticipating for someone to come in. 

Then another knock.

You swear you see some sort of shadow in the door window. It appears then disappears, and you  roll your eyes, thinking it was just someone who was lost or purposely going around knocking on each door (which has happened way more than one could expect). 

The shadow appears again, and this time, you decide on heading to the door yourself. And as you twist the doorknob and pull the door open simultaneously, you find yourself coming face-to-face with Jun, who looks a bit sheepish as he’s caught mid-knock. His eyes widen upon seeing you right in front of him, and he brings his hand down to his side. 

You blink up at him, not expecting for him to be here at this moment of the day.

“Junhui?” 

It’s at this point of his life that Jun realises he really isn’t used to people calling him by his proper first name. But the way you say it is different𑁋soft and warm, like an unexpected compliment.

“Uh, hi,” he greets a tad bit awkwardly, mentally slapping himself in the face. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” 

“Oh, no, you’re not. Don’t worry,” You tell him reassuringly, catching the way his eyes seem to flicker everywhere but on you. “Is there anything I can help you with?” 

Jun fidgets slightly, his gaze bouncing between the floor and your face. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “Actually, I... um, forgot to get your number earlier today. For… for the lab, I mean. Professor Lee said we should exchange information so I thought I would ask. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at your lips. “Ah, I see. No problem. I’m glad you came by to get it. Here, let me just𑁋”

You shove into your back pocket to retrieve your phone, only to feel that it wasn’t there. Then you glance over to your desk, seeing it sitting next to your abundance of papers, before returning back to Jun.

You shove a hand into your back pocket to retrieve your phone, only to feel that it wasn’t there. Then you glance over to your desk, seeing it sitting next to your abundance of papers, before returning back to Jun.

“Here, you can come in. Let me just get my phone real quick.” You step to the side and open the door wider for him.

Jun visibly hesitates in the doorway, before muttering a quiet thank you and stepping inside the lecture hall. It’s certainly a sight to see the room so stripped of other students besides you and him, the sounds of his footsteps bouncing off the walls. He takes in the stacks of papers that you have spread across your desk, and he feels some nerves snake their way up his spine at the thought of you grading his work.

“Wow, that looks like a lot,” he comments gingerly. 

“Yeah, it’s quite the pile, right?” You agree with a light chuckle as you grab your phone and unlock it. “Always happens near the end of the sem.” 

Jun’s eyes wash over you with a look of concern. “That seems… stressful.”

You just shrug nonchalantly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, it keeps me busy.” 

“Well, you should get some good rest after this then,” he remarks coolly. 

“Wish I could, but I have some tutoring scheduled in about half an hour,” You say, tone warm but tinged with a hint of weariness as you glance at the time on your phone. “One of the students in the intro biology class needs help with some of the basics before their midterm. So… rest will have to wait.”

From that, Jun shifts awkwardly, his fingers playing with the strap of his backpack. His brain races as he considers his options. You’re clearly knowledgeable and dedicated, not to mention you seem approachable, but the thought of admitting how much he’s struggling makes his throat dry, plus the guilt of adding more to your busy plate. 

“Tutoring, huh?” Jun finally says, trying to sound casual. “Is that… something you do a lot?”

You nod, tapping away on your phone as you pull up your contact information. “Yeah, actually. It’s nice to help people out. Keeps me up with the material too. Usually I’m free most days at any time after classes.”

Jun continues to gaze at you wonderingly until after you pick up your head to look at him, to which he faces away immediately. He scratches the back of his neck bashfully, before fixing his posture and clearing his throat.

“Do you… have room for one more student?” Then he feels the immediate regret afterwards. “It’s okay if not. I know that you’re busy and all that𑁋”

“Junhui,” You interrupt gently, a calm smile on your face. “I have room. Don’t worry about it.

He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, the reassuring warmth on your face easing the knots in his stomach. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“I’d be more than happy to find a time that works for us both. Just let me know what you need, and we’ll figure a time out. We’re lab partners, after all,” You say gleefully. “Speaking of which, you can put your number in here.”

You extend an arm with your phone in-hand. Jun takes the phone from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment, and types in his phone number and information. When he hands the phone back, he looks up to meet your eyes, trying to muster a more confident expression.

“Thank you so much, really, I…” His voice trails off for a moment, trying to regain his words. “I’ll owe you one for this, truly.” 

“There’s no need.”

Jun shakes his head. “Seriously, I’ll feel bad.”

You bite at your bottom lip in thought, an endearing look washing over your features as you consider his insistence. The pleading in his eyes is hard to ignore, and it makes your heart soften in your chest. You take a moment to think before offering a small, playful grin.

“Alright.” You cross your arms together. “We’ll see.” 

Perhaps… you aren’t as intimidating as he thinks.

Jun is staring at a sheep brain. 

Not a real one𑁋a picture of one, specifically. It’s apparently very similar to the human brain, and the specimen he’s expected to dissect for the upcoming lab. 

He stares at the image displayed on the large screen right before his eyes, feeling a strange mix of fascination and dread. The detailed structures and labels are overwhelming, each word swimming in and out of focus as he tries to absorb the information. It's not that he isn't interested𑁋on the contrary, there's a part of him that's genuinely curious about how it all works, and the other part of him is utterly disturbed. 

You’re sitting next to him again, just like everyone else is sitting next to their partners, taking notes and even drawing a very rushed outline of the brain on your paper. 

“We have to dissect that…?” Jun whispers under his breath, as if speaking any louder might bring the brain to life. 

“Yep,” You reply, glancing over at Jun. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Jun attempts to stifle a groan, eyes going between the image on the screen and down to his near-empty notes. He can’t help but wonder how on earth he’s going to get through this without completely embarrassing himself.

Letting your eyes roam over Jun for a moment, the visible discomfort in the way he crosses his arms together and the furrow in his brow doesn’t escape your notice. Casually, you scoot your chair towards him a little bit, along with your notebook so that it’s settled in the space between the two of you with the outline of the brain clearly visible on the page. Your shoulder almost brushes against his. 

“Here,” You say softly, tapping your pen on the page. “I’ve got the main structures labeled already. You can add them to your notes if you want. I can explain it to you in more detail when you come to tutoring tomorrow?”

Oh, that’s right. Tomorrow is the day you both were free and decided it was the day where Jun could stop by after classes end to have his first tutoring session with you. 

“Yeah, uh, that would be great,” Jun responds quietly, peeking over at how neat and organised your notes appeared to be. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” You nod, before soundlessly shuffling inside your bag and extending it out to Jun. “Granola bar?” 

Jun glances at the granola bar being offered by you, its wrapper crinkling slightly as you hold it out to him. He smiles, a little lopsided but genuine, and takes the bar from you. The hesitation in his shoulders has deflated slightly than from the first time you proposed one to him. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

“Bro, are you going out on a date or what? You’re stinking up a storm here.” Soonyoung lets out a few dramatic coughs at the sudden sharp scent of Minghao’s perfume hitting his nose, followed by Chan behind him nearly gagging at the smell. Though obviously one would expect for the owner himself to be the one using it, he certainly didn’t expect for the culprit to be none other than Jun.

Okay, yes, he may have accidentally sprayed a shit ton of Minghao’s perfume on himself, which was a bit of an overkill. But he clearly wasn’t thinking straight after waking up from a nap between deciding to take a really quick shower or stealing his roommate’s expensive perfume. 

“You think this is too much?” Jun asks unsurely. 

Beside him, Chan rolls his eyes while clutching a bowl of ramen. “You smell like you’re trying to cover up a crime scene. It might suffocate someone. Where are you even going anyway?”

Jun clears his throat. “Tutoring𑁋”

“Tutoring?!” Soonyoung exclaims in surprise. “For which class?”

“Anatomy𑁋”

“Hell no,” Soonyoung crinkles his nose at the mention of anatomy. “You're telling me you’re getting all dolled up for a tutoring session on dissecting brains and guts? Are you trying to seduce the organs or something?” 

Jun groans at his roommate’s words, shaking his head. But before he can say anything in response, Chan seems to beat him to it.

“Don’t you have this really strict TA in your class too? I’ve heard that they don’t even offer partial credit or crack a smile during lectures. Like, they’re just a machine, dude,” the youngest adds in.

It’s quite literally insane to hear that kind of description about you leave Chan’s mouth when all of his interactions with you have been nothing but short and sweet, to put it simply. Though he won’t deny he’s heard all those rumours spread around about you𑁋that you’re strict, and perhaps a bit intimidating. He’s had his fair share of moments where he felt overwhelmed by your grading and meticulous nature. Yet from what he’s seen of you so far, you’re passionate, friendly if anything, and your smile is… cute. 

Jun only shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, they’re in my class, but I’m just trying to get my grade up before the year ends. I think I can handle them.” 

Soonyoung huffs a breath, stepping up to Jun and giving him some sort of comforting pat on the back, almost like he feels bad for him. 

“Well, good luck, dude,” he reassures him, though it hardly eases Jun’s nerves at all. “Don’t get crucified in there.” 

As Jun wanders down the familiar hallway to the classroom, he finds his thoughts beginning to second-guess everything. What if he ultimately fails meeting your expectation at the end of the session? What if he struggles to fully grasp the material and ends up looking like an absolute fool in front of you by the time the real dissections roll around? 

However, those thoughts are pushed away when the door to the classroom swings open before he has the opportunity to knock, with you standing on the other side. Your face seems to light up at the sight of him, and it makes Jun briefly think about what Soonyoung said earlier about you. Like… was he talking about the same person?

“Hey, you made it,” You greet him, stepping aside so he could walk in. “Let me just finish organising some things and we can start.” 

Jun’s eyelashes bat together in curiosity as he watches you rummage through some papers, before deciding it's worth sitting down to wait for you. He places himself down an empty desk, fishing out his notebook and laptop and whatever he may need, though he doesn’t really know. By the time you’re making your way over to him, you set your stuff right next to his. 

“Okay.” You let out a relieved breath, peering at him. “Where do you want to start?” 

Oh, he hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet.

“Uh,” Jun stammers, fumbling for a moment, his mind suddenly drawing blanks. He quickly opens his notebook to the page where he had jotted down some half-baked notes during class and is staring back at him like a puzzle missing half its pieces. “Maybe… maybe we can start with what we’re going over in class right now? And just go down from there?”

“We can do that,” You agree without hesitation, leaning in more so that you were able to see his notes. Jun draws himself slightly back. “So, as you know, we’re going to have to be familiar with the parts and functions of the brain since it’s also part of the dissections. What I like to do is break it down into smaller sections and tackle each one individually. It might make the whole thing less overwhelming.”

Jun just nods, appreciating the way you’re making things more approachable. 

You grab a blank sheet of paper and draw a quick, simple outline of the brain, labeling the major parts with clear, concise notes. “Let’s go over the basics𑁋the cerebrum, cerebellum, and brainstem. These are the main regions we need to understand before diving into all the nitty-gritty details. Is that okay?”

He nods again, moving back slightly closer so he can see what you’re drawing. 

“The cerebrum is the largest part of the brain and is responsible for higher brain functions like thinking, reasoning, and sensory processing,” You continue, pointing to the relevant part of your drawing. “It’s divided into the left and right hemispheres, and each one controls the opposite side of the body.”

Jun watches as you explain, occasionally nodding to show he’s following along. There’s something calming about the way you speak𑁋gentle, but confident, filled with poise. He tries to shake off the thought, reminding himself that he’s here to study, not to admire the way your eyes light up when you speak so passionately about a topic as ridiculous and complex as the damn brain. 

You’re so different from what people say. There’s no sign of the strict, no-nonsense TA everyone talks about. 

“...and that’s why the frontal lobe is so important for decision-making and problem-solving. I like comparing it to, let’s say, a CEO,” You explain. “It’s where a lot of our executive functions happen. Think of it as the brain’s ‘boss’ making the big decisions and planning.”

Jun blinks for a moment, snapping back to attention, quickly jotting down a note to make it seem like he was paying attention. He actually was, sort of. Somehow he’s lucky enough for you to not notice him being distracted (or you do, and he’s the one who didn’t notice). 

“Frontal lobe, right,” he mutters lowly, under his breath.

“The cerebellum is our little assistant to the CEO. It’s responsible for our movement, coordination, and balance,” You say, pointing to a spot on the sketch at the very back of the brain and above the brainstem. “Think of it as the brain’s quality control. It just makes sure that whatever movements we do are smooth and precise, so…” 

Nope. He still can’t detect those rumours that paint you as some sort of cold, calculated, and harsh TA. He spots not a single one of those in your demeanour. Briefly, he wonders whether or not those rumours bother you, if they’ve ever bothered you or made you feel misunderstood. Swiftly, though, he brushes those thoughts away𑁋he’s more focused on you than the material at hand. 

It’s hard not to look at you, in all honesty. 

“Junhui?” Your voice pulls him back to reality.

“Huh?” he responds, a little too quickly.

You tilt your head slightly, a small, knowing smile on your lips. “I asked if you’re ready to move on to the brainstem, or do you want to go over the cerebellum again?”

“Oh, um… no, I’m good,” he says, feeling his face heat up slightly. He hopes you don’t notice how flustered he is. “Let’s move on.”

You nod, satisfied with his answer, and continue your explanation, turning your attention to the next section of the brain. 

“The brainstem,” You begin, pointing to an area at the bottom of the brain with the pencil. “is like the brain's relay station. It connects the brain to the spinal cord and controls many of the body’s automatic functions, like breathing, heart rate, and digestion. Without it, our bodies wouldn't be able to function properly…”

Jun observes as you draw a line down the sketch, clearly marking the brainstem. He’s listening, or at least trying to, but his mind keeps drifting back to how comfortable this whole situation feels. He expected to be a nervous wreck, fumbling through explanations and possibly embarrassing himself in front of you. But instead, he finds himself oddly at ease, more focused on how you’re able to break down the complex information into something so much more digestible.

“Still with me?” You ask suddenly, looking up from your notes to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Jun answers unsurely, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. He offers a small smile, hoping it masks his earlier distraction.

A flicker of amusement flashes in your eyes, and there’s a warmth in your expression that puts Jun further at ease. “Okay, great. We can continue then.”

The rest of the session goes by surprisingly rather quickly. You guide Jun through the material, your explanations helping Jun absorb the information more effectively than the regular in-class lectures. It makes him think about how great you would be as a professor, or anything in the medical field. Everything just seems to flow out of you seamlessly as you discuss various brain functions and their relevance to anatomy and dissections.

As Jun is finishing up the last of some notes, you ask, “Would you mind if I write you a little sticky note? To tell you what to look over when you’re reviewing on your own?” 

Jun looks up, a bit surprised but grateful. “That would be good, thank you.” 

You stand up to retrieve a sticky note from Professor’s Lee desk, before returning back to Jun and writing down: 

Review over neuroanatomy and its functions! •ᴗ•  

Finally, you plaster the sticky note at the corner of the page in his notebook. 

There’s a comfortable silence that follows as you both gather your belongings. It feels like a small victory for Jun𑁋he not only survived the session but actually, in a way, enjoyed it.

As you both stand up, ready to leave, you glance over at him.

“By the way, I don’t think you need all that perfume on,” You say, a hint of laughter in your voice.

Jun’s eyes widen, caught off-guard. Shit. “Oh, uh𑁋yeah, that…”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just… a little overwhelming. Maybe tone it down next time?”

Jun’s face flushes as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, I uh… was rushing and just grabbed what I could find. I didn’t mean to overdo it.”

“You’re all good,” You reassure him, still smiling as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Just a little heads-up. So, anyway, for the next session…”

Next session? His jaw nearly drops to the floor at your casual mention of a next session. 

“...I think I’ll try and set up a little lesson plan we can reference off of… probably review over the cardiovascular system…”

“You… You don’t have to do all that,” Jun interjects. “It sounds like a lot of work.” 

You dismiss him off with a reassuring wave. “It’s no trouble. I think it’ll help to have a structured plan for us to follow. It’ll make sure we cover everything orderly.” 

Jun zips his mouth shut and just nods in agreement, unable to hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, biting it back when he hangs his head down to the ground. When he perks back up, he finds you over at Professor Lee’s desk, sorting through some papers before organising the stack and preparing to finally leave. He opens his mouth, but the words he wanted to say stick to his tongue.

“I’ll see you later?” Jun calls out to you instead, his voice bouncing off the walls of the lecture hall. 

You glance up at him in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you later, Junhui.”

He takes a visible gulp.

“Jun,” he suddenly says, saying it as if he were correcting you, which in a way, he is, but it comes out a bit awkwardly. “You can call me just Jun, if you’d like.” 

A wave of surprise washes over your features, before ultimately fading into a pleasant smile.

“Alright, Just Jun,” You reply, tilting your head slightly. “I’ll see you later.” 

One could probably say you’re a party pooper. Not necessarily intentionally, but instead of filling up your college experience with going to parties and social events, you find yourself buried within pages of textbooks. Your weekends aren’t filled with the chaoticness of drinking and loosening up; rather, they consist of quiet study sessions in your room and creating new lecture material.

You’re not avoiding fun𑁋at least, that’s what you always tell yourself𑁋you’re just focused on achieving your academic goals.

It’s a routine carved ever since you were younger, your parents constantly instilling that education is the key to success, and you’ve taken that message to heart. From an early age, you learned to prioritise your studies over everything else. As you grew older, you carried that mindset with you, where you’ve become known among your peers as the diligent, dependable student and TA who always has their priorities straight.

Your schedule is precise, your assignments are always turned in on time, always prepared for every quiz and exam, and your grades reflect the countless hours you’ve spent studying. It’s a reputation you’re proud of, but it also comes with a certain level of pressure𑁋pressure to maintain those high standards, to never let yourself slip.

You sit back in the seat, satisfied after crafting a proper lesson plan and organising your materials for your next tutoring session. When you glance over at your planner to see who was coming in today, the name that you spot is𑁋

Knock. 

You glance up from your planner and over to the door. “Come in!”

It takes a few moments for the door to swing in, and the tall figure that steps through is unmistakable𑁋light brown hair slightly fluffed out, a half-opened black backpack hanging on his shoulders, and an oversized hoodie that appeared way more comfortable than it needed to be.

“Jun?” You look at the time on your phone. “You’re here early.” 

“Oh, yeah…” Jun runs a hand through his tousled hair. “I thought showing up early could give us some extra time, maybe. Unless… unless you’re still busy?” 

You shake your head. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. Just give me a few minutes and then we can start?”

“Yeah. Take all the time that you need.” 

Once again, it’s only the two of you in the lecture hall. He ponders if you’ve tutored any students before him today, hovering near you as he watches you sort through some papers and adjust your notes. The room is quiet except for the faint rustle of papers and the soft hum of the air conditioning. Jun can sense his curiosity growing within him, making him fidget with the strap of his backpack. 

“So, uh… how long have you been a TA for Professor Lee?” 

You pick your head up from your papers, fingers resting at the edge of the desk. 

“Since the beginning of the year,” You reply. “I got recommended to him by some previous professors, and I guess I couldn’t say no to the opportunity.”

Jun nods slowly, thoughtfully. “Do you like it? Being a TA, I mean.”

You consider his question for a moment, feeling a bit reflective as you answer, “I do, actually. It’s hard but rewarding, you know? I get to help students understand the material better, and I learn a lot in the process too. It’s a good balance between teaching and learning, I would say.”

Jun takes in your words attentively, peeking his eyes toward you with an almost shy smile. There’s a quiet admiration in the way he looks at you that you don’t notice, as if he’s trying to understand how you manage to keep everything together so well. Then a moment of silence fills the space between you two, not uncomfortable, maybe a bit awkward on his end, but more contemplative.

Jun shifts this abominable weight pressing down on him from one foot to the other. He’s not used to being in situations like this𑁋alone with someone who seems so put together, so sure of themselves. It’s both inspiring and a little intimidating. The silence seems to stretch, and you can see the gears turning in his head, like he’s on the verge of saying something but can’t quite find the right words.

“I guess I wonder how you manage it all so well,” he remarks timidly. “You’re always so organised and… on top of things. I’m curious how you do it.”

You purse your lips together into a thin line and simply shrug your shoulders. “I’ve always had high expectations for myself growing up and I guess it’s carried into everything I do now. It’s become second nature, really.” 

As Jun takes in your words, that sense of admiration seems to soften into a bit of worry. It’s amazing that you could handle so many responsibilities at once, but the more he thinks about it, the more it seems like a lot of stress and pressure to manage. He wonders if you ever feel overwhelmed or if it ever gets too much to handle at times. 

You probably do𑁋you’re human, after all𑁋and a twinge of concern snakes up his spine as he thinks about.

“Anyway, hm… I was thinking about going over the cardiovascular system for this session. What do you say?” You ask him.

Jun snaps out of his thoughts, walking briskly over towards the desk to take a seat. “Oh, yeah. That sounds good.” 

The session is just similar to last time: you begin by outlining the cardiovascular system, breaking it down into different sections just as you did with the brain, and using relatable analogies with associating each part with their functions.

“...so the heart has four chambers: the left and right atria plus the left and right ventricles,” You explain, pointing down to the drawing you made with the tip of your pencil. “The right side deals with deoxygenated blood, while the left side handles oxygenated blood. The heart’s valves make sure that blood flows in the correct direction. Think of it like… traffic signals.”

“Traffic signals…” Jun mutters to himself as he writes down notes. Knowing that this is all going on within his own body wraps around his mind uncomfortably.

As you continue explaining, there’s that light again that Jun detects in your eyes, as well as the subtle lift to your lips that makes your voice just a step higher. His gaze also follows your hands that you unknowingly maneuver when you talk, the movements graceful and expressive, like you’re bringing the material to life.

“Are you familiar with where all your pulse points are?” 

Jun lifts a brow, thinking for a second, before taking a finger down to his wrist. “I think so. There’s one here… on the wrist…”

“The radial artery.”

“Radial artery. Yeah.” Then he drags the tip of his finger up to his inner elbow. “There’s also one here. The brachial artery, right?”

“You got it.” 

He grins bashfully at that, though it’s quick to fade when he focuses again, pointing down to his leg. “There’s also two here. Femoral and… pop… Popliteal?”

“You’re right,” You confirm wholeheartedly, and Jun’s heart flutters in small victory. 

Jun then brings his hand back up, using two fingers to point to a spot on his neck. 

“And, uh… The one here on the neck. It’s…” He continues pressing down into his skin to find where he can feel his pulse, but your eyes on him is causing him to feel a bit self-conscious. “Uh…”

“The carotid artery. Right here.”

Before Jun has a chance to correct himself, you’re suddenly scooting closer to him in your chair, leaning in and extending an arm out towards him. The sudden contact of your fingers on the side of his neck makes his eyes widen and his breath to hitch. 

Your fingers rest gently on the side of his neck, just below his jawline, and for a brief moment, the world outside of the lecture hall seems to disappear. The visible swallow of his Adam’s apple isn’t hard to miss as he tries to focus on anything but the sensation of your hand on his neck.

Heat washes over his face, and he swears to himself that you could most definitely feel the way his pulse is running marathons under your touch. All of a sudden his tongue goes dry, his limbs go numb, and the way you’re so close to him makes it hard for him to properly think straight, let alone form any sort of coherent response.

Your eyes meet for a singular millisecond, too quick that Jun could have possibly been imagining it.

Pulling your hand away, you clear your throat soundly. “Try it.”

It takes Jun a moment to register you were talking to him, and he tentatively replaces the spot where your fingers were at with his own.

“Right here?” he asks.

“Mhm.” Your gaze roams over his concentrated face. “Apply a bit of pressure. That’s the carotid artery doing its work.” 

His pulse is certainly fast. The thought has him sinking into a pit of embarrassment. 

But he only nods, keeping his voice steady as he says, “Yeah, I feel it.”

“So whenever you want to count your heart rate, this is one of the places you can check,” You instruct. “You can just press down on that spot and count the number of beats you feel in 15 seconds. Then, multiply that number by four, and you’ll have your heart rate in beats per minute.”

Jun attempts to listen to his heart rate, but the attentive look you have on your face as you watch him makes it really hard to properly count. So he chooses to let his hand fall back down. He wouldn’t be able to calculate it with you here with him anyway. 

When the two of you meet eyes for the nth time, there’s a fleeting, almost electric moment of mutual awareness. None of you acknowledge it, yet it awkwardly lingers in the air. Warmth spreads across Jun’s chest, coupled with a nervous energy that makes his heart beat soar just a little faster.

You break the tension with an airy chuckle. “Are you ready to move on?” 

Jun blinks a few times, shaking off whatever awkwardness swirling around him, and nods quickly. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

By the time he gets back to his apartment later that evening and begins to unpack his things from his backpack, a small piece of pink paper flutters down to the floor like a feather, landing by his foot. It’s a sticky note, reading:

Good sesh today •ᴗ• Don’t forget to review!

“There’s no way I’m touching a brain.”

“Jun, you have to! You’ll be wearing gloves anyway𑁋”

“I cannot cut into a brain. That is gross,” Jun rebukes defensively, face scrunching up with stubborn refusal. 

“Jun, dissections are really important for anatomy,” You clarify calmly. “It’s part of the learning process.”

“Yeah, I… I know,” he mumbles defeatedly, almost shameful to admit. “I’m not that good with, uh… dead things. Like, couldn’t we look at diagrams or pictures instead? They’re less… squishy.” 

You smile amusedly at that, finding his squeamishness a bit endearing. But you straighten your posture and plaster on a reassuring look to your face. 

“I understand that it’s not for everyone,” You respond, a comforting tone to your voice. “But getting hands-on experience is really valuable. It’s one thing to see it in a book, but actually being able to identify the structures in real life makes a big difference in how you understand the material.”

Jun still looks apprehensive, but your words bring a sparkle of determination to his eyes. The idea of cutting into something that used to be alive still makes his stomach turn and the hairs on the back of his neck stick up, but he knows that you’re right. When are you not right?

“It just feels illegal,” Jun admits uneasily, a shudder running through him at the thought. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“That’s what I’m here for, remember?” You lightly nudge him in the arm with your elbow, attempting to lighten the mood. “We’re partners, after all.”

“Yeah, but…” There’s some hesitation, his gaze dropping down to his shoes. He lowers his voice as he speaks, “I want to show you that I’m capable of doing something…”

“Then we’ll start off slow, make you become familiar with everything,” You reason gently. “I know you’re not the only one who feels queasy by it, but you’ll have to face it. Facing your fears can help in conquering them, you know.” 

The corners of Jun’s lips tug up at that, mainly from the fact that you’re able to reassure him this effortlessly. He can’t tell if it’s exactly your words that eases up his nerves or if it’s simply your presence here with him right now thawing away the ice of his fears. Whatever it is, all he can really say is he likes knowing that you genuinely care.

And he likes knowing that you’re right next to him too.

“If I freak out,” he starts. “You’ll promise to help me out?”

Your lips draw into a thin line, a certain playfulness softening the features of your face. 

“No promises, but𑁋”

“Hey!”

“Study what we discussed today and then I’ll consider it.” There’s still a twinge of tease to your words, but the edges are roughened with a touch of sincerity. 

Jun just grins. How could anyone ever make up ridiculous rumours about you?

“Good game, man. Same time again next Saturday?”

Jun huffs out a winded breath, dabbing at the sweat that clings to his forehead with the edge of his shirt before taking a long chug out of the water bottle that Wonwoo tosses over to him. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you then,” he replies exhaustedly, taking another tip of water, feeling his muscles aching from the game. 

As his friends leave the basketball court, he starts to retrieve his own belongings, slinging his backpack and hoodie over his shoulder and starting his walk towards the bus stop so he could go back home. The sun has completely set at this point, the night sky now blanketing the city in a cool, comfortable darkness. The breeze that floats through the air relieves some of the tension in his body, cooling his skin after the intense game. Jun walks slowly, taking his time on the way to the bus stop, simply savouring the peacefulness of the evening.

He considers getting food for himself𑁋there’s a small convenience store that he spots at the corner of his eye, and his stomach rumbles at the thought. 

He changes direction and heads toward the store, the faint jingling of the door chime greeting him as he steps inside. The store is a cozy, cluttered space with a mix of snacks, drinks, and other essentials. He decides on grabbing a cold drink and some instant ramen that he can heat up when he gets home. And after purchasing, he heads back outside and continues his way to the bus stop.

Tapping his bus card on the scanner, Jun makes his way toward the back of the bus and settles into a seat closest to the window, the seat right next to him vacant. The bus was mostly empty, but everyone else was spread out in their own seats either dozing off, listening to music, or staring out the window. It’s quite nice, he must say.

The sounds of him crumpling his bag fills the still air of the bus as he waits for the bus to move, but the hissing of the doors opening perks his attention up. 

Out of all things, he certainly never expected to see the sight of you breathlessly climbing onto the bus, muttering apologies towards the bus driver as you scramble for your bus card in your wallet. Your backpack is about to slip off your shoulder, cheeks flushed from assuming all the running you did to get here, and a mask of tiredness that you wear on your face that isn’t hard to notice. Were you at campus? It’s almost ten at night. 

And out of all things, he didn’t expect for you to come over to him among the many empty seats in the bus. 

“Hey,” You greet him breathlessly, glancing down at the empty seat next to him. “Are you fine with me sitting here?” 

Jun blinks, before speedily adjusting himself, forcing his body more into the seat so you would have all the room that you wanted. He gives you a nod. 

Smiling faintly, you sit down right next to him, shoulder brushing against his. You settle your backpack on your lap and lean back a bit, finally allowing yourself to relax. The bus lurches, beginning to move forward. Jun lets his eyes wash over you.

“Did… you just come from campus?” he asks. 

You laugh awkwardly at that. “Yeah, I… I was studying.”

“You study this late at night on campus?”

“I do.” It’s a bit funny admitting that, you don’t know why. “Sorta lost track of time, I guess.” 

Jun keeps a fixed look on you, as if there was some anomaly within your words, but he knows you’re telling the truth. He just can’t believe that anyone would stay on campus so late, plus you look way too tired, like you could pass out any second. Some worry flows down his body. 

“That sounds… exhausting,” he says, concern edging his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

You glance at him, eyes softening slightly. There’s something about him asking that tugs at your heart. “I’m fine. It’s not unusual for me to be up late studying. I’m used to it.”

Jun feels his fingers twitch around the bag in his grasp. “I see.”

You let your head fall slightly. “Thank you though.”

He faces you curiously. “For what?”

“Just…” For being here? For asking if I’m okay? “I don’t know. Thank you.”

He doesn’t know why you’re thanking him; if anything he should be the one thanking you.

“Oh.” A small smile appears on his lips. “You’re welcome.”

He feels weird. Not in a bad sense𑁋far from that, actually. It’s basically his first time ever interacting with you that isn’t on school grounds, and in a way right now, he isn’t the student and you’re not the TA. He’s simply Jun, and you are… well, you. You’re just two people sharing a late bus ride, and Jun is oddly grateful for the chance to see this side of you𑁋tired, a little vulnerable, but still yourself nonetheless.

The bus rumbles lightly. Silence swirling the air around the two of you. Jun glances at your profile, noticing how your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before snapping open again. His fingers twitch again, wanting to do something more𑁋maybe offer you his jacket, or ask if you need anything𑁋but he holds himself back.

The thought of pushing himself to exhaustion like that feels foreign. But he knows you well enough𑁋or at least, he’s seen you enough𑁋to know you’re driven, always working hard, sometimes too hard. He doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s okay to slow down.

“Y/N?” he calls out quietly.

You face him with a cute, sleepy look. “Hm?”

“You’re falling asleep.”

You giggle lazily at that, the sound unguarded and relaxed. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You can close your eyes. When’s your stop?”

Gazing at the window for a few moments, you take note of the familiar surroundings that the bus passes by. “It should be the next one.” 

Before you can settle back into the seat, Jun quickly adds, suddenly feeling brave, “You can… lean on my shoulder if you want.”

You hesitate for a moment, then give him a drowsy, grateful smile. “I think I’d like that.”

With a sigh, you allow your head to rest against his shoulder, and Jun could only imagine how uncomfortable his own shoulder might be compared to a pillow, but he doesn’t mind, and neither do you as well𑁋at least he thinks you don’t.

Your eyes are closed when Jun leans down to sneak a glance at your face, your features softened with exhaustion. There’s the faintest sight of a smile to your lips, and it makes his own curve up slightly too. His heart stirs in his chest, all while attempting to fully compose himself so you wouldn’t be disturbed. 

As his eyes drift back outside, he leans his own head on the window, watching the cityscape pass by. There’s fatigue crawling up his body too, but he forces himself to stay awake so that he knows when your stop is approaching. He casts glimpses down to you to make sure you’re still comfortable, but every time he looks at you, his heart seems to do a little jump, a little flutter in his chest. 

Jun knows he shouldn’t hope for anything more than this moment, knows he shouldn’t let himself fall into dreams of what-ifs, but he can’t help it. Admitting to himself that he likes you is bizarre, almost too bold for him to fully accept. Yet here you are, leaning against him, breathing softly in your dazed state as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

And maybe, just maybe, he thinks, it could be.

You could tell there was something off about Jun today, and it seems to bother you a little more than you expect. 

He just didn’t seem to be… paying attention. You would explain something to him, and he’d reply with a small hum of acknowledgment before drifting off into a bit of a daydreaming state. Perhaps his mind was clouded and it wasn’t your place to ask, or maybe he was just tired. Regardless, you knew that it wouldn’t get either of you progress through this tutoring session, especially when you’re trying to instruct him about what to expect for the dissections.

“Jun?” You snap your finger in front of his face, and he immediately perks up. “You got all that down?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, the probe…” He trails off, looking a bit lost. “Uh, can you repeat it?”

“The probe is used to explore and identify different anatomical structures,” You explain slowly. “But remember to be careful with it. Tissues are very delicate, so one wrong move could cause damage.” 

You watch quietly as he writes down the notes, his head resting on his as if he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

“I saw you fall asleep today in class.”

Jun looks back up at you, eyes widening as if what he had done was some sort of crime. He suddenly appears more awake than ever.

“Crap, I… I’m sorry,” he mutters in apology, face flushing with embarrassment. “I knew you were lecturing since Professor Lee wasn’t here today, but I just… I don’t know. I couldn’t keep my eyes open that well. I’m really sorry.”

He could only assume the worst𑁋that you’re mad at him for falling asleep, when in reality he had stayed up late the night before to review over the material the two of you have covered so far during your sessions. But when your face softens into a look of understanding, he seems to relax. Just slightly. 

“Jun, it’s fine, really. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” You reassure him gently. “Trust me, you’re not in trouble and I’m not mad.”

He swallows down the lump in your throat. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Like really sure?”

“One thousand percent.”

“I’m not convinced.” A sly grin spreads across Jun’s face. What a dork.

“Unfunny,” You huff, before taking a seat right next to him and flipping through the pages in your lesson plan. 

Once again, Jun props an elbow on the table and leans his head on his hand, a playful smirk lingering on his face as he watches you. You feel his eyes on you. 

“It sort of gave me a little glimpse into your life, you know.” 

You glance up, intrigued. “Yeah? And what did you take from that?”

“That… I really cannot and will never be on your level of studying,” Jun admits sheepishly. He seems to crawl into himself a bit more as he continues hesitantly, “and, uh, made me admire you a little bit more too.”

You freeze at that, pausing mid-flipping through a page in your planner as his words float through the air. Admire… you? It wasn’t something you ever anticipated hearing from him𑁋ever anticipated to see him this forward𑁋especially not today when he seemed so out of it.

You clear your throat softly, trying to act nonchalant. “You admire me?”

Jun chuckles softly, the sound a little awkward as he tries to ease the tension. “Well, who wouldn’t?”

He’s probably digging himself into a bit of a hole right now, perhaps overstepping a small boundary of what was supposed to be just a casual tutoring session. But really, despite these sessions honestly really helping with understanding the material, he’s mainly here because… well… he gets to spend time with you. 

“Sorry, I-I mean… I made this weird, didn’t I?” Jun swiftly corrects himself, face flushing deeper with each word that leaves him. “I guess I just want to thank you for pushing me to do better. I’ve always… kind of admired that about you for a while now.”

Even you momentarily forget what you wanted to discuss with him for the session, a surge of warmth shooting through your body. The only sounds you could hear right now are the branches outside hitting the window from the wind and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The room was quiet, filled with an awkward, yet comfortable tension that neither of you seemed to know how to break.

“I’m glad to hear that,” You tell him. “It means a lot that you feel that way.” 

Relief and apprehension hugs around Jun, as if unsure whether he should say anything more or go back to tutoring. But he thinks he’s already said enough𑁋at this point his tired brain nearly made him confess his feelings, and that would be utterly stupid of him. 

“But you should really learn how to rest,” he suddenly says firmly.

You laugh that off way too easily. “You know that I can’t𑁋”

“I know, but… come on, just rest for a little bit,” Jun insists. “At least for a few minutes.”

“You’re seriously telling me to rest while I’m here to tutor you?” You lift a brow, almost teasingly.

The way he only nods and gazes at you with pleading eyes almost resembling a cat stretching out for attention makes it almost impossible to resist. And you would hate to admit that yeah, maybe you do push yourself way too much, that all the strenuous effort you put into studying is now starting to take a noticeable toll on you. At the moment, rest does sound really nice.

“My friends and I are planning a hangout this weekend at my place, if you’d like to join us. You… You don’t have to if you don’t want to, or if you’re not into that kind of stuff,” Jun informs you sheepishly. “It’s not a lot of us too, but if you ever want to just… unwind, you know, you could stop by. We aren’t doing anything too wild, just a chill get-together. They’re all cool, I swear.”

You consider his offer. Again, you were never much of a party person nor ever gave a crap about that sort of stuff, but the thought of taking a break from your routine is a bit... enticing, to say the least.

“I’ll think about it. Thank you,” You say with a grateful smile, finally giving in. “Give me a few minutes to tidy up?”

Jun watches for a few moments as you quickly organise through your notes and gather up the loose papers that have accumulated on the table, standing up and heading to the front of the lecture hall to put away the rest of the materials that you won’t need for the session. 

As he waits for you to finish, Jun sets aside his own stuff, folds his arms and places them on the table, slowly guiding his head to rest on top. He closes his eyes, taking advantage of the opportunity to rest as much as his body craves.

By the time you get back, you catch a glimpse of Jun’s relaxed form in his seat, and your heart does a little flip in your chest. The corners of your lips tug up unknowingly into a soft smile as you settle into the seat cautiously next to him, feeling a wave of exhaustion hitting you all at once.

It’s rare that you let yourself go these days, but with Jun here, it seems easier to let your guard down, even for just a few minutes. 

Without much thought you let your head rest gently on your own arms, finding yourself staring at the front lecture hall, before ultimately, moving your head so that you were facing Jun. You’ve never seen him this close before, drawn into his features for a moment or two𑁋over his closed eyes and the small moles that pepper his cheek and one particular spot above his lips, which were curled up slightly. Contentment warms you like a blanket as you let your eyes drift to a close.

Unbeknownst to you, Jun slowly peeks his eyes open, being met with the sight of you resting so peacefully and comfortably beside him. A sense of calm takes over the vast lecture hall as he simply watches you, even feeling brave enough to lightly brush a strand of hair away from your face with his finger, before quickly pulling back when he catches your nose scrunching a little in your sleep. His heart swells even more.

He decides on settling back into his own arms, taking one last glance at you before drifting back into light sleep. 

“You’re way too smiley to be going to a tutoring session,” Chan points out as he catches Jun about to leave. “Isn’t it like your third time alone this week? Last week you went twice…”

Jun snorts annoyedly at that. “Yeah, and?”

“We’re just saying you’re way too happy to be going to tutoring, man,” Soonyoung continues on, an edge of suspicion to his words. “Did you find out the meaning of life? Figure out why our bodies cause us to shit and piss or why the earth goes around the sun?”

“I’d be happy to answer that question if you’re curious,” Jun states wryly. 

Soonyoung scrunches his face and shakes his head. “Please don’t.” 

His roommate only observes as Jun stuffs his feet into his Converse, which looked to be at the end of its life. Minghao comes out moments later, toothbrush in his mouth with bits of foam to the corners of his lips. Along with Soonyoung and Chan, the three of them watch as Jun finishes lacing up his shoes, his good mood unwavering.

“I think I have an answer to that question,” Minghao says, voice somewhat muffled.

Soonyoung faces the younger boy. “The piss or the earth one?”

“He has a crush,” Minghao states flatly, a subtle smirk creeping onto his face despite the toothbrush still dangling from his lips.

“A crush?” Soonyoung’s eyes widen as he exchanges a glance with Chan, the two of them looking like they were about to combust any second. “A crush on that scary TA?”

“They’re not scary!” Jun protests, face reddening hearing his own loud voice, secretly hoping to make some sort of quick escape before his friends could pry any further into his dry love life, but he knows he won’t be able to get them off his ass. “So what if I have a crush on them?”

Soonyoung’s jaw drops to the floor at that, before bursting into laughter. “‘So what’? You’re totally into them!” He starts bouncing on his toes, a grin stretching across his face. “You’re in loooove with the scary TA! This is gold.”

Jun could seriously strangle all of his roommates right now. He runs a hand through his hair and glances at the door, regretting opening his mouth. Was he seriously that obvious? “You guys are blowing this way out of proportion.” 

“Bro, you’re blushing so hard right now,” Chan chimes in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

Minghao chuckles, finally pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth. “It’s obvious. You don’t study like that for just anyone.”

Jun’s face turns an even deeper shade of red. “I𑁋okay, fine! Maybe I like them a little bit, but it’s not a big deal! I’m just trying to do well in class. Now, can I leave?” 

It takes one last torturous minute of teasing before Jun shoots his roommates with annoyed looks and heads out of the apartment.

Normally at nine o’clock, you would most likely be in the campus library studying until your eyes go dry, or in your own place with textbooks sprawled over your bed. But this time, you find yourself right in front of the address Jun sent you𑁋his address, specifically.

You’d spent the past few days thinking about his invitation, and despite some initial hesitation, you may be looking forward to this little break from your routine. Because according to Jun from a text he sent you the night before along with the address: it’s what you deserve.

Your heart still does a little jump when you think about it still.

[09:08 | y/n] Hey Jun! I’m here by the way

Your phone vibrates right away.

[09:09 | just jun] WHAT omg

[09:09 | just jun] sorry i’m coming out right now!!!

There’s a figure that emerges from a door, waving to you from above. You give out a small wave as you start to make yourself comfortable on the front steps of the building. Jun hurries down the stairs, looking both relieved and a bit flustered as he reaches you.

“Hey, I…” His eyes roam over you from head-to-toe. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.” 

You offer a tentative smile. “Well, I figured, you know? Thought it would be nice to stop by for a little bit. Plus you live closer than I thought.”

Jun’s face brightens, the relief in his own grin oozing its way into your heart, and he gestures for you to follow him back to his place.

Just as he promised, the gathering was quite small. Jun introduces you to his roommates𑁋Minghao, Soonyoung, and Chan are their names (Soonyoung and Chan look oddly more excited to see you, for some reason)𑁋and two others in his year. You recognise Wonwoo, who is a TA from the English department, and the other is Jihoon, whose name had been tossed around quite frequently during your time in university.

Overall, the vibes have been quite laid-back, and the apartment has been warm and inviting so far.

“Do you want something to drink?” Jun asks as he leads you towards the kitchen, where some food and snacks were sprawled across the counter. “There’s water, soda, and um… some alcohol too.”

Your eyes roam over the assortment on the counter, gaze lingering on the bottles of alcohol. For some reason the idea of relaxing and letting loose feels particularly appealing tonight, and you can hardly remember the last time you had a proper drink of… anything. 

“I’ll take some alcohol,” You answer, suddenly feeling a bit adventurous; it even surprises Jun. 

Jun pulls one of the bottles and pours you a generous amount before handing it to you, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours as you find yourself settling down in a seat near Wonwoo and Jihoon. 

Soonyoung and Chan come into view a few minutes later, and they’re still looking at you as if you’ve come in with a second head.

“You’re not scary,” Chan claims randomly, scanning you up and down with his eyes closely.

You lift a brow and look behind you, thinking he was talking to someone, before turning back to him. 

“Me?” You point to yourself. “Scary?” 

Soonyoung takes a sip of his own drink before saying, “Yeah, dude, I mean… There used to be a lot of rumours spread about you being like, mean and stuff, you know? I’m talking about people saying you were super strict, always serious, and that if anyone messed up in class, you’d roast them alive.”

You almost want to laugh at that. Sure, you’ve heard plenty of those rumours before and never really let it get to you, or had the time to straight up dismiss them, but you didn’t think people were still clinging onto those thoughts nowadays. 

“Did you expect me to show up with devil horns and a pitchfork?" You joke, finally allowing yourself to laugh, shaking your cup in amusement. “Wow, I didn’t realise I was so terrifying. Maybe I should start living up to it now.”

Soonyoung lets out a hearty laugh, almost choking on his drink. “Please, no! We’re all just barely surviving as it is.”

“Nah, you’re good as you are. If anything I’m glad to see that the stuff people have said aren’t true,” Chan adds in.

An exaggerated gasp leaves Soonyoung. “Oh my, God, wait! Does this mean we’re friends now?” His excitement is so over-the-top that you can’t help but laugh too. 

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You tease with a faint smirk, shrugging. “If you behave.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Soonyoung declares, grinning ear to ear as Chan gives him an enthusiastic high five. His face is already turning the slightest bit of red from the alcohol. “Jun, you’re in good hands!”

In the kitchen, you catch Jun gazing over his shoulder and towards his friends. And when his eyes land on you, he shoots you a brief smile before quickly taking his eyes away, but the tips of his ears being red doesn’t go unnoticed when he turns away.

As the night continues, you find yourself letting loose, more than you’ve ever done recently. You find yourself easily getting along with the lively atmosphere of Jun and all of his friends. You don’t really know how many drinks you’ve taken at this point in time, how many refills you’ve been offered, but the buzz you feel is pleasant and warm, your inhibitions slowly but surely melting away. Laughter tumbles out of you as if it was the most natural thing in the world, almost to the point you feel your chest physically ache.

Occasionally, from the side, Jun quietly watches you. He can feel his own mood lifting with every smile that finds its way on your face. It’s almost as if he’s looking at a completely different person𑁋someone entirely the opposite from the studious TA he’s been used to this entire time.

But the second he sees you stumble slightly when you come out from a bathroom break, a pang of worry hits him.

“You okay?” he asks you when you nearly run into him, making him circle his arms around you out of habit in case you might fall. However, you’re somehow so close to him that he can feel the warmth of you through his clothes. Your cheeks are flushed, and you’re grinning lazily up at him, the effects of the alcohol clearly taking their toll.

“Oh, doing lovely, um…” You assure him, voice wobbly as you clear your throat. “The alcohol was awesome. I haven’t… I haven’t drank like this in such a long time. It feels sooooo nice.” 

You nearly stumble into him again as you attempt to move past him, and he’s quick as the Flash to grab you by the shoulders, his hands squeezing tightly around your forearm. 

“I think you should sit down, Y/N.” 

“Bu-But I don’t want to!” 

A playful pout spreads across your face as he carefully leads you back to the quiet kitchen, away from whatever version of charades the others have put on in the middle of the living room.

“You’ve drank too much,” Jun points out worriedly. “Do you want me to take you home? I can walk𑁋”

“What are you? My… my boss or something? I’m supposed to be the one in control here! I’m… I’m the one making the decisions, not you!” You protest, a weak, half-hearted attempt at establishing your authority as you knead the fabric of his shirt into your fists. 

Did you have to be so cute when you’re drunk? Though Jun is fast to shake those thoughts away and focus more on making sure you’re okay, having to bite the bottom of his lip to conceal an incoming, endearing grin at your silly antics. 

“Come on, let me get you some water and then I’ll take you home, okay?” Jun offers, and you give him a tight-lipped smile. 

“But I am home,” You slur lowly, circling a finger in front of his face, close enough you may jab him in the eye. “I’m home here… with you…”

Jun seriously doesn’t know how he would be able to dismiss those words that left your mouth, even in your inebriated state. It doesn’t help that you’re also looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and a dreamy smile, like the world is spinning and yet he’s the only one keeping you steady. 

“Let’s go. I’m taking you home,” Jun says as he snatches up a bottle of water and slowly coaxes you towards the door, not before announcing to his friends as well, who all seem too drunk to even care anyway.

The second the cool air meets your skin and the cold water flows down your throat, you seem a little more lucid, but not entirely. You still clung an arm around Jun’s own arm, which was hanging loosely and awkwardly to the side, your steps a bit uneven as you walk down the street together.

Jun holds his breath every time your body knocks into his side, afraid you might lose balance, but you somehow manage to stay upright𑁋barely. The warmth of your arm wrapped around his doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, Y/N𑁋”

“Shhhhh,” You suddenly hiss, making Jun shut his mouth. “You’re too loud.”

Jun hangs his head down in slight guilt. “Sorry.”

“Hmm, isokay,” You mutter, tightening a grip on his and nearly causing Jun himself to stumble. “You know, you’re always so… nice. It’s kinda weird.” 

Jun tilts his head, somewhat confused by your drunken logic. He glances at you, catching the way your cheeks are shaded with a rosy hue and the warmness to your hazy eyes. 

“Weird?” he repeats curiously.

“Yeah…” You draw out the word clumsily, shifting your eyes towards him, gaze lingering on him a little longer than usual. “It’s like you’re not real sometimes.”

“You’re holding onto me.” Jun shakes his arm, and you still carry a tight grip on his arm, fingers digging lightly into the material of his sleeve. “I think I’m very real.”

“I know,” You mumble, scrunching your nose endearingly, as if you still don't believe him. “But you barely know me.” 

There’s a few moments of contemplation that passes by between the two of you. Your steps have somehow managed to sync with each other, the streetlights above casting down a soft glow on the pavement below, and the quiet night feels oddly… intimate. 

“Maybe.” Jun shrugs, voice low and soft. “But I like what I know so far.” 

Now it’s your turn to grow silent, a wave of realisation cutting through your inebriated thoughts. Your grip goes from loose to tight on Jun’s arm, your chest and heart feeling heavier than it did moments ago, and it certainly was not because of the alcohol.

Your mind is practically aching with all these thoughts, aching with the urge to do something about it, and the way Jun’s side profile is illuminated under the streetlight doesn’t help the situation at all.

“It’s funny, because I… I would see you come into class. And…” You let out a giggle. “I don’t know. My first thought was always that you were cute. Hmm, maybe dreamy too? Yeah, dreamy… That’s a silly word.” 

Before Jun can say anything to that, the words seem to tumble out of you. 

“...I’d see you fall asleep in the back of the class, or come late to lecture, and I’d think you were cute seeing you so panicked… And when you asked me to tutor you, I was so happy. It’s just𑁋I-I don’t know.” A brief pause, before you continue, “Is this what liking someone is?” 

Jun doesn’t notice how much his steps have faltered, his voice and own words getting caught somewhere between his throat and his heart. There’s a mix of panic, disbelief, and excitement flowing through him, almost too much he can’t quite process going from emotion to the other. However, how the hell does he respond when the person he’s been developing feelings for says something like that so openly?

“Shit, I’ve… I’ve made this weird, haven’t I?” You give yourself a light facepalm, before carding a hand through your hair. A yawn starts to leave you. “I’m just all over the place right now, I’m sorry…”

Jun wants to say something, needs to say something, but he stumbles over his words. “I… Y/N, I𑁋”

Before he can finish his sentence, you trip slightly, and he instinctively pulls you closer, catching you with both hands. A wholehearted round of laughter tumbles out of you, resting your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, and for a split second, everything feels still. His heart races faster than ever.

He lets you take the lead on the way back to your apartment complex, feeling as if he had been walking on eggshells the entire time. The buzz of the alcohol running its laps through you has seemed to soften, and if anything, you’re more than ready to sink into your bed for the night. Although there’s comfortable quietness in the air now, Jun can’t stop replaying all the words you’ve said to him tonight alone.

Before he can fully process everything, you come to an abrupt stop just outside your building, turning to look at him.

You stare at him for a moment, eyes roaming over his face as if you’re trying to commit everything to memory. Then, without thinking, you step up to him and press a kiss to his cheek. It’s quick, fleeting, the gesture so unexpected it sends a rush of heat flooding up his neck and straight to the tips of his ears. He’s practically on fire, at this point. 

When you pull back, there’s a bashful smile playing at your lips. “Goodnight, Jun.”

You don’t think you can ever look at Jun in the eyes without wanting to sink into the ground, because each time he comes into view, it reminds you of the absolute idiot you put on show for him last weekend. It’s harder to pay attention when your hands seem to touch every given opportunity. You just have to make it through one last tutoring session before the big dissections later that week.

“So, um, we’ll use the forceps to clamp and separate through the tissues,” Jun explains, pointing towards the dissection guide displayed on the table, still feeling a tad bit queasy at the thought of it, even if the dissection pan was empty. “Then the scalpel will be used to cut on the incision lines we marked.”

“That’s right. You got it,” You say with a small smile, briefly casting a glance towards him, watching the way he adjusts the goggles on his face. 

The two of you decided on running through the dissection for practice, focusing instead on the procedural steps and techniques. It’s been smooth-sailing so far𑁋Jun looks more confident and comfortable as he walks through each step𑁋and you’re positive that the actual lab will go well.

On the other hand, you both can’t deny the awkwardness thickening through the room, drifting within the crevices of even the most subtle interactions. 

“Alright, so once we’ve done that, we’ll… uh, we’ll…” Jun’s voice trails off as he fumbles slightly with the scalpel, trying to decide between placing it on the tray or handing it to you, his gloved fingers brushing against yours again as you grab it from him.

“Sorry,” You both blurt out at the same time, voices mixing into one.

As you both share an embarrassed laugh, a few moments of silence follows. It seems to dissipate the tension in the air. Some of it, at least.

Jun clears his throat. “Y/N, I𑁋”

“It’s fine,” You assure calmly. “Let’s just keep going.” 

“I… Okay.” His shoulders slump in a pit of defeat as he fixes his attention back down towards the task at hand. “Can you, uh… pass me the probe?”

You nod and hand it over to him, trying to attentively listen as he explains the function of the tool and how it would be used for the lab, adding any feedback along the way. You’re surprised at how easily you fall back into a comfortable rhythm, as if the moments from earlier had ceased to exist, as if that night and your stupidity didn’t happen, but only you both know about the unacknowledged elephant in the room.

The rest of the practice goes by without any more mishaps. The next thing you know, you’re pulling off your gloves and taking off your safety goggles as Jun sets the dissection tray away. By the time he returns, he’s surprised to see you already grabbing your belongings like you’re ready to leave.

Jun swallows down the nervous lump lodged in his throat. “Y/N, wait.”

You pause in the middle of stuffing some notebooks inside your backpack, already feeling the apprehension snaking up your spine as you face him.

“Can… Can we talk?” Jun asks hesitantly.

A sigh leaves you. “Look, that was really dumb of me, I get it. I shouldn’t have… kissed you on the cheek like that and said all those weird things. It was impulsive and I was drunk. I’m sorry, I should’ve known my limits, or maybe just have not come at all𑁋”

“I was really happy that you came,” Jun interrupts, a voice almost too loud in the quiet, empty lab room. He rubs his gloved hands together nervously. “And, um, the kiss... I liked it. It was, well… kind of nice.”

You really can’t tell if his words are making you feel any better or worse, if the hesitation on his side makes you want to sink more into the ground or feel a bit of hope. Regardless, it’s hard to ignore the warmth growing in your face as your fingers tighten around the strap of your backpack. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like you too, and I wanted to finally tell you that before you left my place. But then things got a little messy and it was a bit overwhelming, so I wanted to take you home because you looked like you were about to𑁋”

“Jun, just…” You chime in ruefully, clearly not wanting to relive your stupidity. “Go back a little. You like me too?”

Jun takes in a deep, slow breath.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Holy shit. I can’t believe I said that.” 

The laughs that leave you two sound more freeing in a way, more effortless, like the thick, heavy fog that settled around the room has been lifted, and for the first time in days, everything is more clearer. 

The carefree grin that Jun catches to your features nearly forces him to step up towards you, but he holds back. Instead, he thinks the sight of you looking so naturally happy is something he could cherish for a very, very long time.

“So, uh…” he starts, shooting a sheepish glance down at his shoes before meeting your gaze once more. “We’re okay?”

You only nod.

“We’re okay,” You confirm softly. “Maybe more than that.” 

As you finish getting ready to leave, you turn back to Jun, who nearly drops the dissection pan in his hands. 

“I have a meeting to go to right now,” You tell him. “But afterwards, I could… text you?” 

His face brightens expectantly, attempting to keep the excitement coursing through him at bay.  “Yeah, yeah, of course. Um… have a good meeting.” 

He’s cute. And silly. And weird. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Before you finally leave the lab room, you take a leap of faith and turn back around, heading straight towards Jun. He’s in the middle of taking off his goggles when you find yourself standing back in front of him, and a mischievous grin etches across your face. Jun takes a few steps back, his ass nearly stumbling into the table behind him.

“One more thing.” You reach up and to gently tug the goggles off his face, and the contact of your fingers to his hair has Jun bracing himself for doomsday. Your breath fans against his skin for a moment, and when you pull away, you’re holding up the goggles towards him. “You were wearing these upside down the entire time.”

Jun chokes on air, and you let out a giggle.

Shit.

Jun cannot focus right now.

The goggles feel uncomfortable on his face, the gloves make his skin feel clammy, the uncomfortable, pungent smell of formaldehyde fills the lab room and his nostrils. Not to mention that there’s a goddamn sheep brain sitting on the metal pan in front of him. 

Perhaps he can call it quits now𑁋take the zero for the lab and run for the hills, drop out of university, become a nomad in the countryside and never have to touch any sort of assignment again. In his mind right before the dissection starts, it really doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all…

“Jun?”

He snaps his eyes back at you. You’re wearing your own pair of gloves and goggles, positioning the dissection tools on the table, eyebrows raised in worry. 

“Are you good? We’re about to start,” You tell him. “You look a little pale.”

He blinks a few times, trying to compose and mentally ready himself, acting like he hasn’t just spent the last few minutes imagining an escape plan abandoning all forms of education. “Yeah, I… I’m good.”

“You good to start?” You ask, and the concern he senses in your voice makes his heart soften. “Or do you want me to take over first?’ 

There’s that offer again, the one he knows he should probably accept for the sake of his sanity, but there’s also a part of him that doesn’t want to back out now. Not when he’s finally managed to clear the air between the two of you, when things are more comfortable than they’ve been in weeks. 

Jun exhales, shaking the tenseness out of his body. This is it. Glancing around the room, he notices that other students have already started their dissections with ease. He looks down at the sheep brain again, feeling that queasiness rising, but just your presence right next to him seems to settle down his nerves way more than it should.

He steels himself, trying to cling to that feeling instead of the growing discomfort in his stomach. He can do this. It’s just a brain. A sheep brain, he reminds himself, as if that makes it any better.

Letting out one last breath for good measure, he reaches for the scalpel. 

“I’m good,” he says, more to himself than to you. “Let’s do this.” 

His hand quivers as he leans in towards the sheep brain, its colour slightly pinkish and grey. His nose crinkles the closer he gets to it, and the second he lightly grazes the scalpel along the surface of the brain, he can’t help but wince. At his side, he feels your shoulder make contact with his, and helps ground him a little more. 

Narrowing his eyes, he focuses on making a precise incision straight down the middle of the brain𑁋the medial longitudinal fissure, he recalls𑁋his hand trembling slightly as he draws the scalpel down. The smell of formaldehyde grows stronger as he slices through the tissue, and the somewhat gelatinous texture that the brain has is incredibly off-putting. 

When he finally finishes, you help part the brain in half, and Jun’s eyes widen in awe at how visible the structures are. 

“You did pretty well.” You send an encouraging smile Jun’s way, taking the probe in your hand and motioning towards the exposed structures. “See? Look at that. You can see all the parts clearly.”

Jun takes a leap of faith and points to a particular part. “That’s… the thalamus there, right? And the hypothalamus is right below it.” 

You nod proudly. “You got it. And this section right here?”

“The… pons? And then, uh… Oh! The medulla oblongata. Then the spinal cord starts beneath it.”

“Yep. Here?”

“The cerebellum!” 

Your own heart seems to swell with every step up his confidence goes, whatever discomfort he was initially feeling begins to be melted away under the warmth of your praise. You bring your eyes up from the brain, letting it roam over his side profile, taking in the way the goggles make his hair stick out in odd angles, the curve of his jaw as he tilts his head slightly, brows furrowed in concentration.

As Jun pinpoints another structure on the brain, he faces toward you for confirmation, only to be met with your eyes already on him. He opens his mouth to say something, before slowly shutting it, and for a split second, he forgets about the question he was about to ask, the lab, everything else.

“Did I get it right?” Jun questions, feeling the confidence flowing through him falter under your thoughtful expression. “This is the sulcus? And the gyrus…”

You lower your attention back down to the sheep brain, realising he was pointing to a spot with the probe. 

“Hm, just…” You start, leaning in a bit closer to examine where he’s pointing to. With a sly smirk, you reach over to grasp his wrist lightly, slowly guiding his hand more accurately with the probe. Your warmth slips teasingly under his skin. “The sulcus is the little groove right here, and the gyrus is the ridge surrounding it. See it?”

Jun swears you’re doing this on purpose, and whatever it is, it’s working.

“Got it,” he mumbles, hoping you won’t be able to see the flush to his cheeks under the goggles. His eyes flicker between the brain and your face, noting the playful glint in your pupils that certainly isn’t from the fluorescent lighting of the lab room. “I see it now. Thanks.”

You let go of his wrist, still wearing that mischievous look at your lips, though it fades into something more genuine now. “You’re doing good, you know.”

Relief hits him from your words. He does feel way more comfortable, the entire lab becoming less daunting all because you were simply right here next to him. His mind momentarily flashes back to all what you’ve done for him𑁋from the tutoring, to the way you’ve been nothing but supportive and patient with him, before it all circles back to the mutual fondness blooming its way within the crevices of your hearts together.

He likes you, and you like him back. Jun still has no idea how this came to be, because he used to think he had no such chance with you. Yet now, he has the freedom to think about where he wants to take you on your first date.

The rest of the dissection goes by with ease. Slowly but surely, other students begin to clean up their workspace and submit their lab reports to Professor Lee, their tasks winding down as the lab session comes to a close. The lab starts to empty out as the minutes tick by, and it isn’t long until there’s just a few more students left𑁋you and Jun included.

“Here, I’ll finish up here,” You tell him, taking the brain into your hands without hesitation and placing it into a sealed bag for disposal later on. Then you take the dissection tools into your hands and walk off towards the sink to wash them, leaving Jun hanging in a bit of a daze. 

“I… What can I do then?” he asks, wanting to contribute still.

You turn back to him, humming in contemplation. 

“Let’s see… Disinfect the table, take off your gloves and goggles, and then…” Your lips quirk up again. “Just stand there and look cute. I’ll handle the rest.” 

The tips of his ears flush with heat as you casually sidle away from him and towards the sink. Jun shakes away the flutters in his stomach, though the corners of his lips tugs upwards as he works on cleaning up the table. 

Jun is already waiting by the door with his backpack on his shoulders as you finish up some tasks with Professor Lee. Once you get the signal that you’re free to leave, Jun feels the excitement pool down to his feet, a sense of accomplishment knowing that he was able to get through the one lab he dreaded most, and finished the class with a passing grade.

As you both exit the building, Jun pauses in his place, watching you continue to walk a bit without him.

“I owe you a date, you know,” he calls out to you with determination, though a pinch of nervousness still lingers.

You turn back to him curiously, and the way the sun catches on your face makes you appear more radiant above anything else. “A date, you say?” 

“Yeah, I…” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Before all of this, I told you I would owe you something for helping me, and well…” He lets his shoulder relax. “I want to take you on a date.” 

Jun watches the way a bunch of emotions seem to morph among your face. Even with knowing how you feel for him, he still braces himself for a different kind of response. 

Biting at the bottom of your lip, you step back up to him, and before he could fully process what’s happening, you answer him with a quick, affectionate kiss to his cheek. Right at the corner of his lips, to be specific. Then you reach down and grip his wrist, tugging him gently towards you.

“You’re on,” You challenge, a playful sparkle to your eyes. “Let’s get going.”

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Experimental Obsession

Part 11

Prev

Everyone was waiting anxiously in Jason's apartment for word on how (Name) was doing. Steph knew the PTSD was going to be bad from the little she learned. But total disassociation over the mere thought of the experiments. It was worse than anything they could have expected, especially since she was so much younger than Steph first thought.

Yes, she had heard stories and had seen (Name) in passing. That didn't change her mental perception of the girl. The stories made her sound older. At passing glance at what she was doing, taking notes and doing science experiments or lectures. Those were older kid activities, not seven- or eight-year-old activities. To think that no one was looking out for at the age. It made Steph feel guilty for not noticing. Why had she been so nervous? Cause she was previously a Robin and a Batgirl.

Shaking her head, Steph forced herself to continue reviewing the files. Well Barbara had decoded and read one of the files, there were dozens. So, they decided to start reviewing them while they waited. She sat reading through boring medical terminology she barely caught on to and horrifying descriptions of violence. (Name) was really just eight to nine going through this.

Steph paused as she began a new file. This one was dated two days before the escape. Her mind flashed back to her interrogation of Matthew Jenkins. If her math was right this would be the test that made Henry Duncan tap out. The one that made her chest look like a deflate balloon. Steph began to read the report when Tim spoke up.

"I have something."

"So, do I. I think." Steph held up her tablet gesturing to it, "You go first Tim. I still have to read through this."

"Okay so it would appear we've all misunderstood (Name)'s meta-abilities." Tim placed his tablet on the coffee table for anyone who wanted to look at it, "She's not a super healer. She produces a chemical in her blood stream that causes the effects of miraculous healing and potentially immortality."

"What? That should be impossible, there's no chemical capable of that. Even the Lazarus Pit has a limit" Damian snapped, setting his tablet aside.

"You're right it's technically not a chemical." Tim shrugged before looking towards the door to Jason's bedroom. (Name) and Jason were in there, as Jason attempted to calm her down. "It's a liquid metal, but it's still in her blood stream."

"You don't mean..." Dick started looking up from his tablet. Tim nodded causing Dick to swear, "Dionesium. What are the chances The Court of Owls is involved."

"It's unclear right now but we may need to explore that angle. Though the Court probably would have used Electrum. She, however, produces pure Dionesium in her bloodstream. Not Electrum." Tim looked down at his tablet again as Bruce picked it up. "At least that's my theory currently. They wrote it down as Concentrated Lazarus Pit Water they had found in a cave system somewhere beneath Gotham."

"I thought I destroyed the lake of Dionesium under Gotham after the Joker Virus incident?" Bruce looked up from the file. He gave Tim a quizzical look.

"Either it wasn't completely destroyed, or there's another one." Tim shrugged again, "Whatever the case they don't know what they found. That or I'm completely off base and were missing a file of how they treated actually Lazarus Pit Water to 'concentrate' it. However, they still got the Chemical they injected her with from a cave in Gotham. We're going to have to find that."

Bruce sighed, rubbing his temple. Steph focused back on her file and began to skim it for details, "On a different note. I found the log for the final experiment they perform before (Name) escape. The one that made Henry Duncan storm off."

"Really? What did they do?" Barbara asked. Throughout this whole ordeal everyone had shared horrifying revelations of what the experiments had done. Drowning, Burning, Shooting, Stabbing, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Duke even found a file where it shows she no longer displayed any brain activity when hurt. All that to lead up to the final experiment in Steph's hands.

Steph began to read through the file. She paused in confusion reading through the beginning, "Well they started by sedating her and preparing her for surgery?"

"Surgery?" Cass asked looking towards the tablet in Steph's hands.

"Yeah. Apparently, the anesthesia didn't work properly so she was conscious throughout the whole ordeal." Steph continued to read through the file. Every word felt like falling further and further down a ravine with no clue where the end was. She could feel the color draining from her face as pieces started to click into place. Pressing on her chest, deflated balloon, something growing. No not growing, re-growing. Steph's voice was barely above a whisper, "Oh dear god."

She was ten. She was child and they did that to her, all well she was awake. Steph felt like she going to be sick. "Oh, dear god, she was awake through that. Shit she probably remembers it too."

Steph felt like vomiting. That are running into the room with (Name) and Jason to hug the girl.

"Stephanie!" Dick grabbed ahold of her. It shocked her enough to drop the tablet. It slid across the floor landing by the coffee table. "What did they do?"

"We've been looking for our suscepts in the wrong place. They're not Meta Traffickers." Steph looked towards where (Name) was. She was ten and they didn't even know she was in trouble. "They're Organ Traffickers, who just made an endless supply."

Dick let go of Steph. He blinked a few times before glancing at the door. Everyone looked towards the door. The room had gone deathly silent as pieces began to slide into place. It was Bruce who spoke first, "We change plans. Now."

Steph looked towards him to see a dark look she had never seen on Bruce's face before. Soon it was as if dark steel had crossed everyone's face. They would not let (Name) down again.

When you started to come back to reality, you could feel someone holding you and humming. It was a familiar tune; one you remember in blur dreams about the past. A goofy little song about axolotls and penguins. The person singing seemed to remember the lyric more clearly than you. Slowly you began to join in the silly song, holding just the melody without the words.

A blanket had been wrapped around you and someone's arm pressed you against their chest. The humming mixed with the steady beating of their heart acting like a lifeline to the present. There was a shout in the next room that had you jerking up. The person allowed you to move but was soon hushing you back towards their chest. It was so gentle you simply allowed the motion to happen.

"How you feeling, angel?" You looked up to see that you were wrapped in Jason's arms. Blinking up at him, you shook your head before leaning back down to listen to his heartbeat. He took a deep breath. Soon he was slowly stroking your head. You hummed before burying your face in his chest.

This was okay. You could pretend you were safe for right now. Just like the blurred memories of when you were a toddler. Leaning into Jason's arms after your reoccurring nightmare. He had changed physically since them. Taller, buffer, but the comfort factor remained the same. "Do you want me to tell you a story, like old times?"

"I don't remember those times very well." You murmured gripping onto his shirt. "I know you taught me to read."

"Yeah, I did." Jason mumbled. You didn't look up at his face, but you could tell he was sad. There was something haunted in his voice, "Your favorite storybook wasn't even a story. It was a meet the planets picture book."

"Each of the planets had a different voice." The laugh that bubbled out of you was small. A hazy memory of Jason as a teenager with voice cracks reading in different voices danced in your head.

Jason laughed too, "Later when we played you insisted on being a space exploring scientist princess and I was your space pilot knight."

"Why did we stop playing?" The atmosphere shifted but didn't entirely break. Jason shifted the blanket, so you were wrapped up just a little tighter.

Once satisfied he asked one question. "How about a story okay?" You nodded and Jason began.

"Once upon a time in a kingdom not too far away lived a family of brave knights. Each one was skilled trained personally by the King, a skilled knight in his own right. One day a Princess was born and the King assigned one of his closest knights to protect the young girl. This made the two grow very close, acting as brother and sister despite having no blood ties.

When the Princess was two, a threat arose. A Clown Prince threatened the kingdom and more specifically the Knight's mother. The Knight having believed his mother was dead, rushed to her aid, ignoring the King's warnings. He ended up being captured by the Clown Prince. Before the King could rescue him, the Knight was killed.

Yet it the story didn't end there. Two years later a skilled Necromancer and his daughter found the body of the Knight. Together the two raised him from the dead but when he came back, he was no longer a knight. His body no longer felt right, and he quickly discovered he had been made into a monster. The Necromancer had showed him the kingdom. The now reborn Monster had been replaced by someone else as the King's Closest Knight and Princess once adore was left alone with no one. The Monster couldn't tell if she was left alone for asking questions or for not accepting the new knight.

In a fit of rage, the Monster attacked the King and his Knights. The fighting lasted months before finally the Monster's rage subsided. In those battles however the Monster did many horrible things, still the family accepted him. Even with the acceptance the Monster was scared to approach the Princess. If couldn't bring himself to accept the possibility of accidently hurting her. So, he stayed away for years, watching from the shadows as she grew to be a brilliant and kind scholar. When he finally had the courage to explain to her what had happened all those years ago..."

Jason's voice caught in his throat as he tried to finish the story. You had pressed your face against his chest. Softly you whispered, "She disappeared."

"(Name)." Jason took a deep breath. "I know that you probably want revenge or to make sure what happened to you doesn't happen to anyone else."

Your breath caught in your chest when Jason said those words. Fear that he knew what you were planning shot through you. He continued, "But please promise me you won't become a vigilant. I swear I'll get your revenge for you and make sure whatever happen to you doesn't happen again. Just please don't become one of us."

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. One of your hands was under the blanket where he couldn't see it. You crossed your fingers slowly, "I promise."

The laboratory was quiet. Everyone involved had gone home for the day with the procedures completed. Isabella walked down the faux-hospital halls towards the office where her father worked. With Subject Origin lose somewhere in Gotham, the plan had changed. Subjects Alpha through Hotel were no longer allowed to leave during their recover phase. Just in case Batman got involved, he couldn't follow the subjects to the new location.

She knocked on the door to her father's office before slipping inside. The older man was sitting at his desk scribbling away on his journal. Isabella glared at the book, at least the notes in there were no longer about her. "All surgeries have been completed. We're monitoring the recipients now for any signs of rejection."

Her father hummed. There was long pause in which the only sounds that could be heard was the scratching of her father's pen. Finally, he sent the pen down looked at her, "Isabella what are the two results we are expecting?"

"Either all the recipient's bodies will accept the new organ, or they will all rejected." Isabella looked towards the ground. She intentionally didn't learn any of the kid's names. It made things easier for her; they were letters not children.

"Do you know why those are the two results?"

"No, I don't."

"Because" Her father stood walking towards the framed letter that revoked his medical license. Isabella didn't understand why he framed that of all things. "The experiments changed (Name)'s organs so they longer match any humans. She is a being that is truly unique now."

"Whose (Name)?" Isabella tilted her head to the side.

"Subject Origin, of course. Her name is (Name) Wayne." Isabella tried not to throw up. Wayne. Her mind flashed back to high school, to one of her friends that ended up dropping out to run Wayne Enterprises. It was easier to not know the names of her father's victims, because it made so she didn't know which of her friends was being reflected back to her.

Isabella began to silently pray Tim would never know what her father had done.

Prev

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[sparrows4bats]

Dragon Head AU

This came to me through music and vaguely inspired by one fic on ao3 I cannot find. I thought I had it bookmarked. Thanks to @peterchubs for listening while this au took shape.

What if, like in Batman Beyond, Damian returns to League to lead it one day?

I think for this AU Damian meets his father briefly, but after seeing that he isn't the perfect heir, he goes back to Talia to reform the League.

Bruce tries to stop him but finds there's not a lot he can do.

Since the year of Blood and Goliath coming into his life, Damian had started to doubt the wisdom of his grandfather. The killing of the Dragon Bats and Damian owns distaste for killing innocents have planted a seed of rebellion. One that meeting his father and seeing how he operated allowed to grow.

Damian believes that the world needs to be protected, that someone must fight for the earth, and it's innocents. He begins to recognise that killing is a hard choice and should not be the first course of action but sometimes can not be avoided.

After he gets back from Gotham, he discusses these ideas with his mother, not sure what to expect. Instead of a lecture Talia kisses his head and tells him that he is growing into the man she hoped he would become. A leader, a true mix of two great bloodlines and ideologies.

Talia Al Ghul looks at her son and pledges to aid his reforms. Talia embraces him as she promises to protect him. Damian learns love from her.

Next, Damian approached Mara, his cousin. It was a tough conversation. Mara is understandablely distrustful of him. The last time they met Grandfather has made them battle, Damian had scarred her and won Grandfather's approval. Something he now gas mixed feelings about.

Mara doubts him at first, and it takes a while, but even her loyalty is tested by Ras orders. Damian is the heir, and if he reforms the League ge speaks off, Mara promises that The Demons Hand will support him.

Over time, Damian gathers more allies inside and outside the League. A girl named Maya tries to kill him in revenge for her father but reluctantly befriends him.

Damian learns more about compassion and redemption from her. They become almost siblings in their closeness. Maya becomes his advisor and spymaster.

The turning point where Damian decides that he cannot wait to inherit the League but must overthrow his grandfather comes when Damian meets his brother.

Damian had heard rumours of his grandfather's labs. A place his mother ensured he never entered.

Damian isn't naive enough to think he was ever exempt from his grandfather's cruelty. But the way the lab in particular was avoided fills him with dread.

He finds it after Maya infiltrates a restricted wing of Nanda Parat. She says he needs to see this now and drags Damian to it.

Inside are pods growing versions of...him? He thinks? And on a medical table strapped down and unconscious is his mirror image.

He boy is taller than him, seemingly older, and instead of his mother's brown waves, the boy has striking white hair that is straight and fine.

His body is covered in scars. Damian looks around and finds files and notes of torture parading as science.

It is in that moment that he decides Ras Al Ghul must die.

Maya gets the boy out and hides him in Damians' rooms where only his most loyal enter, just in case Maya guards him and Damian destroys the lab.

He calls Mara and his mother and tells them that Damian will be the Demons' head sooner than expected.

They launch the attack at Dusk.

It is not an easy battle, but in the end, Damian drives his sword into his grandfather's chest and sets his body on fire, so not even the Lazarus Pit can restore him.

It is not an easy transition. For months, Damian and his family struggle to gain control of their forces and dismantle Ras more insidious operations.

But they manage it.

Respawn or Alexander as he chooses to call himself helps. Damians brother is learning how to exist outside of training and the lab and becomes his Brothers head guard. The two grow close, and Damian learns to be gentle with a boy that was hurt similarly to himself but so much worse.

Damians League is very different from its predecessor.

All jobs that they do are vetted to ensure they don't cause unnecessary damage, targets family, networks, and history is considered.

Life is to be respected whenever possible. For all being. Death is never a first course of action, but Damian will kill to protect innocents and the earth.

They no longer train children. It's not allowed until the person can consent. Any found abusing or hurting their children are punished severely.

There are no more inhuman experiments. Instead, Damian puts the Al Ghul billions into health and climate research. He goes so far as to hire Poison Ivy to regrow rainforests and other suffering botanical areas.

He also covertly funnels money into the green energy sector and lobbying groups for better regulations on environmental issues, health, and care.

Damian invests in communities that safeguard habitats and endangered species. Freeing some from human trafficking and exploitative corporations.

Everyone working in the League or with it observes a strict code of ethics. Their life is forfeit if they are found to have harmed innocents or betrayed their ethos.

The reforms had been thought to be too idealistic. A childish dream. But they work.

The League of Assassins becomes what it was always meant to be, a force for good that operates in the shadows.

Damian is still ruthless. All of his people are deadly, and no one who breaks his rules survives.

Damian wonders if his father would accept him like this? If his improvements are enough?

One day, Maya suggests he will never be a Demon, and Damian is a Dragon. The name sticks.

Not many outside of the Assassin's notice the changes in League at first. Not even Batman.

Damian is 21 by the time he has enough time to consider trying to approach his father again. His mother has not forgiven her Beloved for not embracing Damian all those years ago, and Damian can't bring himself to reach out to the imposing man he remembers.

Jonathan Kent is the first to discover the new Dragons Head.

He only finds out what the League is doing when he interrupts the forceful dismantling of an animal smuggling ring. It is one of the rare times Damian is performing a mission himself but when he heard how many endangered species were being held he left before Maya and Mara could scold him.

Respawn joined him with a laugh and asked if they could stop for takeout. Damian reluctantly agreed.

They are finished dealing with the leader of the traffickers when Superman 2.0 busts in.

He is very confused about finding a masked man comforting an injured baby orangutan while his companion teases him.

It's adorable that the man glares while still babytalking the scared primate.

Jon almost doesn't notice the body on the floor.

"What is happening here?"

The two turn to him and their guard rises immediately.

The one holding the animals clears his throat. "We are freeing these animals, you can either help or be removed Son of Kal El."

"How do you know who I am?"

"It's my job. So are you helping or no?"

Jon glares. "I don't know who you are."

"You can call me the Dragons Head and that," he points behind him "is my guard Respawn."

"Never heard of you."

"I am the head of the League of Assassin's."

Jon is suddenly much more on guard. The man looked too young to be Ras al Ghul.

"Did you kill that man?"

"He was wanted in three countries for trafficking and animal abuse. We offered him a choice, and he decided to attack us." The Dragons Head says reasonably.

Jon sighs, but in the end, the well-being of the animals takes priority right now. He can just try and arrest them later.

A part of him as he looks at the cages, the misery doesn't feel particularly bad for the man.

The Super secures the animals, and when he turns to interrogate the duo more, he finds them missing. With the orangutan.

After he reports the incident to the Watchtower, there is concern all round.

The bats are called in for an investigation. What they find shocks them all. Ras has been dead for five years, and the new head has even more connections worldwide.

They still kill, but they also do so much good. It causes a divide in the Justice League.

Those without a no kill rule suggest an alliance.

Those with one refuse to entertain the possibility.

So, a compromise is reached after days of debate, a fact-finding mission, and a diplomatic envoy to discuss their options with the Dragons Head.

Batman offers to lead it because of his contacts only for said contact to refuse to entertain them if Batman is there.

The League doesn't know the reason Talia Al Ghul glares at the vigilante, but the Batman is forced to stay put. Nightwing takes his place.

Jon is chosen to be part of an envoy to meet the new head, given he met him before.

They are greeted at Nanda Parat by an army. A show of power and strength to the heroes now in their midst.

Jon and Nightwing approach cautiously only for the crowd to part as they approach, revealing Talia Al ghul and a group of young people.

"Richard, good to see you again." She begins.

"I'm sure." The man in question quips.

Before the tension gets even worse, Jon interrupts. "When will we be meeting the head?"

Talia smirks and moves aside. The people behind her do the same. "My son, Damian Al Ghul the Dragons Head."

The man that steps forward is beautiful. Very clearly his mother's son with sun-kissed skin and green eyes. Jons breathe catches.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquitance, officially." The Dragons Head greets them.

They two heroes are invited inside and assign guest rooms. It's not until dinner that any actual negotiations take place.

The League of Assassin's is not opposed to the alliance with the Justice League, but only if their ethics remain intact.

They debate terms for days.

"The League respects life but understands that sometimes you have to kill what destroys the natural order." Damians argues.

Jon fights the urge to raise his voice. They have been going in circles of hours. "Because you never know for sure! You can't be certain that killing won't make things worse or that the person wasn't framed or can't change for the better."

Damian smirks. "That is true for every decision, that if I don't kill than that person kills others because I didn't stop him when I had the chance."

Jon groans. He can find fault in the logic, but some part of him agrees with it. It does not help that Damian is unfairly attractive.

"I'm getting tired of this. Would you like to walk with me to the garden?" Damian asks, gracefully standing and dragging Jon with him by the arm.

Jon finds himself distracted from escaping the Assassin's grasp by the sudden closeness.

They walk together in silence in a courtyard filled with jasmine flowers.

"I admire what you are trying to do. I get frustrated myself at never seeing progress, but ideals can be corrupted. Just look at the previous head." Jon says quietly.

"That is why I am open to trusting heroes. I'm terrified of becoming like my grandfather. If I allow the Justice League to know some of my activities, then there is a check and balance. If I go too far, they will be able to stop me."

"Stop you how?"

"Kill me if necessary."

"What!" Jon is incredulous. Damian looks so at peace discussing his own death.

"If I become what I swore to destroy. Death would be mercy."

Jon doesn't know what to say to that. His eyes fall to how Damian holds him arm still and lays his hand over his.

Jon stays at Nanda Parat for weeks, even when Nightwing leaves.

He and Damian spend every day together always ending sitting side by side amongst the jasmine. Their conversations starts drifting away from either League.

Jon learns that Damian has a small zoo of pets. That his innermost circle consists entirely of his family. That when he smiles, he has dimples.

Jon opens up about his doubts, about his temper and the weight of his fathers legacy.

Jon tells Damian about how he agrees that killing might be necessary but how he fears what he'll become if he allows himself to take a life.

Damian holds his hand and promises that he would never ask that of him.

They strike up a friendship, then something more.

Damian kisses him one day, and Jon sighs in relief.

Jon decides to go back to Watchtower after he receives a call from his father. He promises Damian he will return.

The Justice League makes him report on his findings and then almost immediately sends him to space.

He is away for two months.

When he flies to Nanda Parat Damian welcomes him home.

The two Leagues sign the alliance. Jon is named the diplomat between the two.

Batman meets his son again once the paperwork is signed. It's awkward, but the two are working towards a proper relationship.

Some object, especially after they get married.

People like to think Damian corrupted Jon. But his rage and need to affect change for all has always been a part of him.

Damian is his anchor, his safe haven.

Jon is Damians guiding light.

[okkotsuus]

"COLLEGE! AU" ー tabieitaken 🪽

features: tabito karasu, eita otoya, kenyu yukimiya

contents: college au, friendships, polycule jokes, jealousy/competition, very messy headcanons, 0.8k

notes: since my lovely @cheralith has tabieitaken stuck in my head at all times... this is literally just me talking at the wall

ALL

they're all in the same frat (alpha tau omega) and ended up rooming together after their first year in an apartment a few minutes off campus. tabito is the primary name on the lease, but yuki handles most of the stuff with their landlord (otoya just forks over money every month).

every friday, without fail, they all get together to do something, whether it be movies or dinner.

their apartment was decorated by yuki and karasu; but otoya is the one who most often brings home decor for the apartment (usually it's something stupid he bought).

they actually don't cook very often, like in terms of full meals, yet they are still an ingredient house iykyk.

one time, otoya accidentally hotboxed the bathroom and yuki went to take a shower and almost died.

despite how popular they all are, they refuse to host parties because their building is mainly elderly folks and they would feel horrible for them having to deal with hammered college students.

tabito and otoya went to highschool together and met yuki in their freshman year through the frat.

despite their differences, they are all actually extremely intelligent.

TABITO KARASU

3rd year biomedical engineering major.

tabito, despite literally never speaking in class except when called on, is very well known.

takes extremely elegant and detailed notes for every lecture: no matter how fast the professor is talking.

somehow always locked in, even if he's extremely hungover from an event the night before.

the kind of guy who really only talks to people unless they talk to him first or he's tipsy.

has never failed a class, he's extremely intelligent.

he has this very specific ritual he does before every single exam where he sleeps with his notebook under his pillow (it's so stupid but it has never failed him).

plans to go into biomedical engineering to design medical devices that put less of a strain on the patient (e.x. streamlining insulin pumps or making pacemakers less intensive)

actually extremely passionate about his work, got in on a full-ride for his essay which was his planned thesis for grad school.

works as a lab assistant in the school's medical research facility.

EITA OTOYA

3rd year political science major.

if you actually see otoya in class, it's rarer than getting struck by lightning: double credit if he's sober and awake.

despite this, somehow everyone in all his classes knows him and he knows everyone's names (it's bc he's a lurker).

the pledge hazer, he is so annoying; but he's never malicious about it like some of the guys are.

he smokes or takes edibles, constantly has some fruity vape on him at all times. he swears he can stop whenever he want (he cannot).

originally planned to take a gap year but his mom almost beat his ass for even suggesting it so he chose the major he thought was the easiest.

he doesn't know it yet, but he will end up going to law school to be a criminal prosecutor trust.

despite his horrid attendance, his grades are pretty good (lowest is a 82%), he's one of those smart kids that could be a genius if he just applied himself.

works at the local dispensary and as a barista on the campus cafe.

KENYU YUKIMIYA

3rd year fashion design and business management double major.

he wants to end up with his own clothing line, but he is actually horrible at sewing so it's kind of funny. he's only good at the designing part fr

literally everyone's hallway crush, everyone knows him and all the freshmen have a thing for him at some point.

the kind of student that all the professors like, even the typically rough ones that seem to hate everyone (he's a kissass and he knows it).

perfect attendance unless he is ill to the point of physically unable being to go to class.

academic validation kid, struggled hard his freshman year when everything wasn't easy peasy anymore like it was in high school.

partial-ride, about half of his tuition.

he became an ra for the free room and board his second year but ended up hating it so he didn't do it this year.

really good grades, but not as good as karasu's even though he tries harder (it really pisses him off)

works as a freelance model/actor and at the local movie theatre

⚜️ ㅤ okkotsuus ㅤ 25

[tjjamess]

To YOU he’s just a 192 year old dead revolutionary medical student who represented the logic of the revolution who lived much more normal than his counterpart, who was more human than man, the homo to vir, who liked the word citizen but preferred the word man and would gladly say hombre, who read everything, did theatres, followed lectures, explained the functions of artery’s, followed science, deciphered hieroglyphics, broke stones to look inside them, drew silk moths from memory, corrected the dictionary, both asserted and denied nothing, daydreamed, who was involved in issues of education, wanted society to raise intellectual and moral standards, believed that the narrowness of teachings and the scholastic prejudice would turn collages into artificial oyster farms, who was well-read, a purist, precise, polytechnical, hardworking, imaginative, who dreamed of trains and better surgical operations and fixing cameras and electric telegraphs and steering hot air balloons, who was the guide to the leader, who was not incapable of fighting but would rather be gentle, who wanted neither halt nor haste, who would rather let progress take its course rather than worship and incite revolutionary adventures, coolheaded but pure, methodical but irreproachable, phlegmatic but imperturbable, and who believed ‘good must be innocent’

To ME he’s everything

[mscherub]

Right, so…you’re transported to a new world, and me being the science geek I am, I can’t help but think of all the bacteria you wouldn’t be accustomed to in Twisted Wonderland…so imagine how bad flu season would be, or just the spreading of sicknesses around the school in general

You better have a good immune system cause oml would it be put into overdrive. Anyways…here’s my twist on what the Heartslabyul boys would do in order to be helpful in your recovery ❤️‍🩹

Let me know if you’d want to see other dorms!

Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings!:

Sickness, obviously

Mentions of vomiting, snot, etc

To start us off…

It’s flu season in Twisted Wonderland, well you call it the flu, they call it something else you don’t even bother to learn. With you’re immune so shot and not used to the illnesses that spread around, getting sick more often that you honestly should, you woke up with a headache. Ok…nothing too serious, but you thought it to be a good idea to just take some ibuprofen equivalent in their world and “thug it out,” which ultimately lead to your current situation. Currently, you’re in the infirmary, having passed out from a raging fever and a disgustingly congested respiratory system during PE and you’re bed ridden back at ramshackle, at least until your fever goes down. Sevens bless Grim and the ghosts as they try and get you things to feel better, but you need some sort of intervention, and here comes you’re favorite person at the right time. How do they help you out?

Riddle👑:

He walks in with disinfectant spray and sprays down frequently touched surfaces, no joke.

Being raised by doctors he has a sense for what to do, so he jumps right on in making sure you take you’re medications at the right time, and consistently checks your temperature to make sure it goes down

Now…he can’t cook that well, so he has Trey make you things and drop them off while Riddle lectures you on proper rest…ok, is he gonna let you rest or no—

Whenever you cough or sniffle he’ll back up a bit and probably cover his mouth :/

If you throw up he’ll panic and back away even more. He’ll just use magic to clean it or something. After the fact he’ll realize he needs to make sure you’re ok, and he’ll awkwardly pat your back as you calm down again. He’s not too great at comforting. Give him time.

He’ll make sure Ramshackle is in tip top shape and performance, and he’ll drive off Ace, Deuce, grim, and anyone else from bugging you too much while you try and rest up

Trey♣️:

Of course I’m going to mention him making food for you, because it’s something that he’d do, don’t even lie to me. He’ll make you whatever your want, especially if you’re feeling extremely picky as to what you consume.

If you don’t want to eat anything, he’ll use doodle suite to try and make it taste even better to get you to eat it. If you still won’t budge he won���t be mad, just disappointed :(

Again with being on top of medications. He practically takes care of his whole dorm already and has that caring dad vibe going for him, so you’re gonna be taken care of well

He doesn’t care if you sneeze or cough on him. Probably won’t even blink if you puke on him. He’ll just help you and reassure you. He has younger siblings, he’s capable

He’ll probably get sick from taking care of you…repay him back later

Cater♦️:

Will be there mainly for emotional support

He’s gonna take pictures, captioning them with something like #playingdoctor#takingcareofmybestie#PREFECTISDYING

…anyways

He’ll make you things to eat, but they’ll probably be spicy, which in turn will make you snot up an even bigger storm, but he’ll chalk it down to “helping clear out your system from the bacteria.”

He’d set timers for when you need to take medicine and he’ll wait on you. Whatever you need he’ll do it…he’ll take pictures as usual, though. Tissues? You got it. More pillows and blankets. He’s on it.

You throw up he’s gonna go quiet and, same thing like I mentioned, be there for emotional support, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder as you calm down and he won’t say a thing…

If you fall asleep he’ll stay by your side and scroll on his phone, he’ll probably search up what else he can do to hopefully ease up any discomfort you have. He’s determined.

Ace❤️:

Saying this from the heart, he’ll be a dick, but he’ll try to tone it down and be a bit more loving.

If you so much as breath on him he’ll complain and glare at you, but there’s no real hatred behind it.

He’s the type to complain whenever you ask him for things, even though he literally came over to help…like ok bro.

“Prefect do it yourself. Fineeeee, I’ll be your savior.” He’s totally cocky about it

He’ll mainly just chill with you, and he’ll probably go out and buy food instead of making it. He gets a little hiatus away from his dorm in turn of taking care of you so he’ll indulge a little himself

He’ll forget to give you medicine, so you better remind him about it, and you better make sure you remember too.

He will continue to bug you even while you’re sick, you get no breaks. He tries to get you to smile and just relax through jokes and teasing

He does really care, he’s just being the way he usually is…the Ace way

Deuce♠️:

Goes through all the stages of grief upon seeing you sickly in bed; thinks your dying because you looked so weak.

He’ll be sad, then mad you’re sick, then he’ll accept it and then start to help you out quickly. So much so it’ll be like an overbearing parent with a kid

He’ll pester you a lot, making sure you’re ok.

“You need anything else?” “You’ve asked this 4 times within the span of a minute-“

He’ll make you food, and he’ll try and remember the times you need to take medications, he’ll forget once or twice, but he’ll write it down on a sticky note for good measures. If you refuse to eat or drink anything he may freak out, scratch that, he will, he’ll think something is going wrong

He’ll stare at you with a pout like the entire time he’s there

He won’t care if you get anything on him. He’ll sit next to you on your bed and just watch you…a little creepy but eh. He just wants to make sure your ok and won’t die on him :(

I love drabbles so much cause I can just yappppp. Also, the universe is on my side because they gifted me with a study hall in school so I have a little more free time. I SHALL POST MORE, ITS A MIRACLE. I’m taking refuge in the orchestra room cause I can’t stand the chorus rooms 💀

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[lvrgurlblobbu]

maybe next time?

college!zayne x fem!reader

⤿ CW: pure fluff!

⤿ word count: 2.3k

⤿ second part of code love series | previous part > next

ao3.

It’s been a week since you last saw Zayne, you’ve been going to the cafe where you saw him for the first time hoping that you’ll come across him again. But in the span of one week, you never saw him again.

What makes it worse is that you didn’t even know his major. You have no way of knowing where to look. The university’s campus is large, and without a clue as to where he spends his time, you feel like you’re grasping at straws. If only you had asked him just one more question, something, anything that could’ve given you a direction.

Today, though, was different. Your professor dismissed the class early due to an urgent meeting, leaving you with an unexpected chunk of free time. The lecture hall empties quickly, with students chatting amongst themselves and heading off to their next commitments. You sit there for a moment, gathering your things, the familiar hum of idle conversation swirling around you, but your thoughts remain focused elsewhere. You sling your bag over your shoulder, letting out a soft sigh. Another day of fruitless searching. It’s starting to feel hopeless, like you’re just waiting for a chance that might never come.

Just as you’re about to leave, a voice calls out from behind you.

“Still thinking about that guy?”

You turn to see your friend Tara and Simone leaning against one of the desks, smirking knowingly. They were the only one you had confided in about Zayne—the stranger who had somehow left an imprint on your mind.

You hesitate before answering, but Simone doesn’t need a response. She roll her eyes playfully. “You’re down bad.”

You huff, shaking your head. “I just… I want to see him again.”

Tara crosses her arms. “Then maybe it’s time to change your strategy. You’ve been going to the same café all week. What if he only went there one time?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to you before. Had you been limiting yourself? You rack your brain for any other places Zayne could frequent. But with so little information about him, it feels like searching for a needle in a haystack.

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” you ask, raising a brow.

Your friends grin. “We ask around.”

Your heart skips a beat at the idea. It’s bold—maybe even a little embarrassing—but if it means finding Zayne, it just might be worth a shot.

“Oh Zayne! Yes, he's currently a sophomore majoring in Medical Biology.” A student said, which name is Greyson. As you looked at Greyson’s features, you remembered that he’s the colleague that Zayne was talking to in the cafeteria. He also happens to be Zayne’s close friend and a classmate of his.

“Is he around? Can we talk to him?” Tara asked, looking very much hopeful. But when Greyson scratched the back of his head as he looked at the three of you, you instantly knew his answer.

“About that, he’s currently busy with his lab work and volunteer hours at the hospital,” Greyson said apologetically. “He’s been swamped lately, so he doesn’t have much free time.”

Your heart sinks a little at the news. So that’s why you haven’t seen him. Still, at least now you know his major and have a better idea of where he spends his time.

Tara, ever the determined one, steps forward. “Do you know when he might be free?”

Greyson hesitates for a moment before sighing. “Honestly, he barely has time to breathe these days. But…” He glances at you, his expression thoughtful. “If you’re really looking for him, he usually hangs around the Medical Biology study lounge when he has a break.”

Your heart leaps at that. A lead.

“Where is it?” you ask immediately.

Greyson chuckles. “It’s in the West Science Building, second floor. But like I said, he’s really busy, so don’t get your hopes up too much.”

You nod, gripping the strap of your bag. Even if there’s only a small chance, you’re not giving up now.

Tara nudges you with a smirk. “Well? What are we waiting for?”

With renewed determination, you and your friends head toward the West Science Building, hoping that this time, luck is on your side.

“Luck is not on our side.” Simone mumbled as you sat at the couch, you looked everywhere in the lounge hoping for Zayne but it seems like he’s not here.

You sigh, slumping slightly into the couch. So close, yet still no sign of him.

Tara crosses her arms. “Maybe he’s just not here right now,” she suggests. “We could wait a little longer.”

Simone groans, stretching her legs out. “We’ve been here for almost an hour. What if we just missed him?”

The thought makes your stomach sink. You glance around the study lounge again—students are scattered at different tables, some buried in textbooks, others quietly discussing notes. But none of them are him.

Then, your phone suddenly received a notification from your sister telling you to come home immediately.

“Sorry girls, I gotta go.” You said as you stood up, Tara and Simone looking at you confused.

“Go where?” Tara asked.

“My sister just texted me. She says I need to come home right away,” you explain, shoving your phone into your pocket and grabbing your bag.

“But what about Zayne? We haven’t found him, and maybe he’ll come around here in the lounge after a minute or two.”

You hesitate, glancing toward the entrance of the lounge. Tara has a point—Zayne could show up any minute, and if you leave now, you might miss your chance to talk to him.

“I know,” you say, running a hand through your hair. “But my sister’s message sounded urgent. I can’t just ignore it.”

Simone shifts in her seat, thoughtful. “Do you want us to stay here and wait for Zayne? We can let you know if he shows up.”

“It’s totally up to you two, but I suggest for the both of you to head home.” You chuckled, “Bye girls, see you tomorrow!”

You stepped out of the lounge and made your way to the elevator, only to find a long line of students waiting. With a heavy sigh, you decided to take the stairs instead, knowing it would be faster. As you arrived at the building’s lobby, you roamed your eyes around for the last time hoping to see Zayne but then again, you failed.

It’s been fifteen minutes since you left the University, you’re sitting at the window seat of the bus as you rode your way home, earphones attached to your ears, but your mind is miles away. The hum of the bus and the steady rhythm of the wheels on the pavement should be comforting, but instead, it feels like the world outside is just another blur—like you're disconnected from everything around you.

Then, you suddenly received a notification from your friends.

Tara: (Name)! Guess who we saw!**see attached photo**

Your heart leaps into your throat as soon as the image loads. There, in the photo, is Zayne—just as you remember him, but somehow, this feels different. He’s walking into the lounge, a stack of books in his arms, looking completely absorbed in whatever conversation he's having with his colleagues. The familiar serious look is on his face, not the relaxed version from the café, but something more focused, more… composed. It’s strange to see him like this, like he’s someone else entirely, yet still undeniably him.

Simone: Omg, he’s at the lounge right now!!! Are you seeing this??? Tara: You better come quickly!

You chuckled at their message, as much as you wanted to get off the next stop to sprint to your University, your sister needs you at home.

You: Sorry girls, need to go home TT Tara: That’s alright! We got you ;)

You smile a little, the lighthearted tone of her message easing some of the tension. They know how much this means to you, and even though you can’t act on it right now, at least they’ve got your back. You’re grateful for their encouragement.

Simone: Okay, I just did the job.

You frown slightly, your fingers still hovering over your phone as you try to figure out how to respond to Simone’s message. There’s something in her tone that makes you pause, like she knows something you don’t. Maybe it’s just her way of teasing you, or maybe she’s genuinely onto something. Either way, the thought lingers in your mind as you stare at the screen for just a moment longer, but then you hear the bus driver announce your stop.

With a soft sigh, you slide your phone into your pocket, knowing you’ll have to pick this up later. You grab your things and step off the bus, the cool air immediately hitting your face as you make your way down the familiar streets toward home. Your mind is still buzzing with thoughts of Zayne, and despite the fact that you’re heading in the opposite direction now, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s about to change. The moment might not be today, but the universe has a way of surprising you when you least expect it.

The walk home is quiet, your footsteps the only sound filling the space between your thoughts. You pull your jacket a little tighter around you, your pace slow but steady, as you process everything that happened today.

You’ve finally arrived home, the familiar scent wraps around you, but before you can even settle into the moment, you hear the familiar voice of your sister coming from her room.

“Ugh, I just don’t know what to wear!” she calls out, frustration lacing her tone.

You smile to yourself. It’s always something with her, but at least it’s a distraction from your earlier thoughts. You drop your bag by the door and head toward her room. As you approach, you see her standing in front of her full-length mirror, holding up two completely different outfits—one casual, one more dressed-up—looking at herself with a furrowed brow.

After a few changes, your sister finally settled with the outfit she’s going to wear and immediately apologized for rushing you to come home. You just smiled at her and with a few finishing touches, she kissed your cheek for goodbye and she left.

You sit back on the couch, letting out a soft sigh. There’s a part of you that still feels a little restless, like you’re waiting for something to happen, something to change. It’s hard to shake off the idea of Zayne from earlier, the thought of seeing him again so close yet so far. But for now, there’s nothing to do but let things unfold.

You pull out your phone, checking the group chat once more. Simone’s last message is still there, waiting for you to dive into whatever she might have been teasing about. You smile to yourself, letting the tiny spark of curiosity push you to reply.

You were about to reply when a sudden text message from an unknown number caught your attention. Your heart skips a beat when you see the message from an unknown number. For a moment, you're frozen, unsure of what to expect. The familiar rush of excitement bubbles up, but you're also trying to stay grounded, telling yourself it could be anything.

You tap the message open, and the first thing you see is a simple text:

“Hey, it's Zayne. I know this might be a bit random, but Simone gave me your number. I hope that’s alright.”

Zayne. Zayne.

And then, Simone sent another message on your groupchat.

Simone: You’re welcome ;))

You giggled at her answer, you sent a reply to their message before opening your conversation with Zayne.

You: Hey, Zayne! Of course, that’s totally fine. It’s nice to hear from you!

You bite your nail absentmindedly, the seconds feeling like they stretch longer than usual as you wait for Zayne's response. Your thumb hovers over your phone, checking the time, then glancing back at the screen, expecting the little bubbles to pop up any second. The anticipation feels almost unbearable—like this could be the moment where something shifts, or maybe it’ll fizzle out. You have no idea, but you really hope it’s the former.

You’re starting to second-guess everything, wondering if your reply sounded too casual, too eager, or even too boring. Then your phone buzzes, breaking the silence, and you almost jump in surprise.

Zayne’s reply lights up the screen:

Zayne: Glad to hear that! I’ve been a bit busy with school stuff, but I was hoping we could meet up soon. Maybe we can actually schedule our next meet up or date?

Date. Date.

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of date. You stare at the message, feeling a rush of excitement and nerves wash over you. It’s like he’s finally saying what you’ve both been dancing around, but now that it's out in the open, the weight of it is both thrilling and a little intimidating.

Date. The word keeps echoing in your head as you read the message over again, your thumb hovering over the reply button. He wants to meet up soon. He wants to actually schedule something. This isn’t just a passing interest anymore. He’s serious about wanting to see you.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus and not overthink. You quickly type your reply, making sure to keep it light but still show that you’re just as excited as he seems.

You: That sounds awesome! I’d love to. Just let me know when you're free, and we’ll make it happen!

You smile as you send it, feeling a little giddy but also relieved. There’s no turning back now—you’re both on the same page, and it feels like the start of something exciting. You can’t help but feel a little thrill at the thought of seeing him again, but for now, all you can do is wait for his reply and hope that this “date” really does come together.

dividers by: @dollywons

[iheartsparklingwater]

everything that happens in the deleted house episode 7x01 thunder roadtrip

a summary if you will

The episode begins similar to Now What. It’s the morning after the season 6 finale and the building collapse. House and cuddy are in bed.

Honestly guys, they fr just fuck a lot. Like a lot. The actual sex scenes are omitted from the script pdf, but its allllllll they talk abt.

House is ignoring wilson’s calls.

They drink wine on the couch and ‘happily argue’ (literal exactly how the script describes it), house plays guitar for cuddy. They fuck again.

House convinces to Cuddy to take the day off work to celebrate the fact that she said that she said she loves him. They then makeout.

There is no mention of Lucas or her engagement that she just broke off.

They ride house’s motorbike to a very fancy restaurant, House says he met the head chef during his post rehab cooking classes.

Cuddy’s new assistant alex calls and house speaks in a british accent whilst pretending to be cuddy’s nanny. He says cuddy is sick and can’t come in.

OH MY GOD WE HAVE OTHER CHARACTERS AND A B PLOT! PPTH's head neurosurgeon is sick, and that affects the hospitals status as a level one trauma centre and like bad things will happen if he's not there.

Back at the restaurant, they eat weird science-y food in the kitchen. very avant-garde shit. House sneaks away to call chase and tell him to impersonate a neurosurgeon to the assistant so cuddy doesn’t have to come into work/ sort it on her phone.

The restaurant owner comes in and plot twist: house and cuddy were actually breaking in and not supposed to be there. the owner calls the cops.

House and Cuddy then go up to the top of a bell tower in an elevator. But cuddy is scared of heights, when they get back to the ground a musician gives her a joint to smoke for her nausea.

House plays the piano with the stoner musician.

Chase calls, the new assistant doesn’t believe he is a neurosurgeon. She has been apparently reading up on the ducklings.

House tries and fails to light a bonfire on a beach

House finally answers Wilson’s call, he is panicked that house has relapsed and offers to pick him up. Until Wilson realises that house ‘sounds happy’ and drops the issue. Very 'I'm too in this episode'.

House teaches cuddy to drive his motorcycle.

They ducklings go to the home of the neurosurgeon who was too sick to come to work. they drug him to make him feel well enough to come to the hospital. however he is deeply affected by the drugs. They being him to ppth anyway.

Back @ the beach bonfire, cuddy had accidentally broken House's motorcycle.

House suggests they light the bike on fire. They don’t.

Cuddy suggests going home to fuck again, but then house surprises her – they’re going to bruce springsteen in Asbury!

House exaggerates his disability whilst hitchhiking, an elderly couple drive them to Asbury. They get covered in dog hair.

Thirteen and foreman fight about the huntingtons drug trial.

The guy house is buying the springsteen tickets from is a no-show. Two scalpers approach them.

ONE OF THE SCALPER’S PULL OUT A GUN. HE IS ACTUALLY A MUGGER.

The mugger steals house’s wallet and pants. He then lectures house on seeing the worst in people.

Back @ ppth the sick drugged neurosurgeon gets called out for being sick and drugged. Ducklings in trouble. All the icu patients get transferred to different hospitals.

Drugged neurosurgeon starts stripping in the or. And then wait – this is actually a symptom of somrthing else! This is a medical procedural show afterall!

Chase calls prawns shrimp which kills me as an Australian.

House is now wearing novelty pants with ‘little sailboats’ on them.

House and cuddy are both sad abt not getting tickets. Then they have an idea and sneak in w/ the tech crew.

The drugged neurosurgeon is cured of his ailment! The icu is reponed. Hurrah!

House and Cuddy have a deep and meaningful conversation side stage at bruce spingsteen. They talk about fucking but are interrupted by a security guard who kicks them out.

They are sad about this, but then makeout outside the arena.

The end.

I’m trying to find a way to share the script pdf, but am not sure how to go about it (I’m scared of doxxing myself/ my email accidentally by putting it on google drive lol). Let me know if you have any suggestions :)