#🌱.kyoya

[nothums-from-tj]

Tag Masterlist (to keep myself organized)

If you’re seeing this when I post it feel free to ignore this is for my pinned post lol

Anything in parentheses is not part of the tag, that’s just to provide context. I will try to regularly update as I remember/make/add more of them (and some I’m putting in bc I plan on adding them soon lol)

CATEGORIES IN ORDER: fandoms, ships, characters/dynamics, other, block

Fandoms

tmnt 1987

tmnt 2003

tmnt 2007

tmnt 2012

rottmnt

tmnt (general; contains all iterations and AUs/designs along with multiple ships or no ships, bounds under this are pretty loose)

animaniacs (‘90s and comics for the most part)

animaniacs 2020 (reboot)

patb (Pinky and The Brain)

sbsp (SpongeBob SquarePants)

pokémon (games and anime)

pokémon bdsp (Pokémon Brilliant Diamond/Shining Pearl)

pokémon sword

pokémon sv (Pokémon Scarlet/Violet)

sailor moon

ohshc (Ouran Highschool Host Club)

looney tunes

space jam (original and sequel I think)

space jam 2 (sequel)

tlts (The Looney Tunes Show (2010))

looney tunes cartoons (HBO Max original)

amphibia

toh (The Owl House)

sdway (Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! (1969))

tsds (The Scooby-Doo Show (1976))

the new scooby doo movies

apnsd (A Pup Named Scooby-Doo (1988))

scooby doo zombie island

wnsd (What’s New, Scooby-Doo? (2002))

sdmi (Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated (2010))

bcsd (Be Cool, Scooby-Doo! (2015))

mystery inc (Mystery Incorporated (2021, YouTube live action))

scooby doo (same loose rules under the TMNT tag)

tawog (The Amazing World of Gumball)

barbie 2023 (live action Barbie movie)

opal (Jack Stauber short film)

stranger things (sometimes shortened to ST)

gaobam (The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy)

eene (Ed, Edd, n Eddy)

milo murphy’s law (might be shortened to mml)

moral orel

death note

ppg (Powerpuff Girls)

regular show

Ships (I try not to include most ship content under fandom tags)

rasey (Raph x Casey from TMNT, mostly 2012 and ROTTMNT)

rasey shit (just feels right sometimes)

apritello (Donnie x April from TMNT, I think only 2012 and some ROTTMNT)

leosagi (Leo x Usagi from TMNT, varying different iterations)

brinky (Pinky x Brain from PATB, all media)

da brinky???? (feels right sometimes)

squidbob (Squidward x SpongeBob from SBSP)

squillward (Squilliam x Squidward from SBSP, I think I only have this pairing as exes)

makoami (Ami x Makoto (Mercury x Jupiter) from Sailor Moon, any and all iterations I could find lol)

tamakyo (Tamaki x Kyoya from OHSHC, particular from the anime and live action)

baffy (Bugs x Daffy from Looney Tunes, many different variations)

marcanne (Anne x Marcy from Amphibia)

raeda (Raine x Eda from TOH)

lumity (Luz x Amity from TOH)

huntlow (Hunter x Willow from TOH)

blinkley (Daphne Blake x Velma Dinkley from Scooby-Doo, many different iterations)

velmarcie (Velma x Marcie from SDMI)

fraggy (Fred x Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, many different iterations)

shed (same ship as prior, I try to use both)

fraphne (Fred x Daphne from Scooby-Doo, there isn’t and won’t be much of this admittedly)

poly doo (Velma, Daphne, Fred, and Shaggy all dating or included in the polycule, will have varying different looks/ideas)

robball (Rob x Gumball from TAWOG)

byler (Mike x Will from ST)

ronance (Robin x Nancy from ST)

steddie (Steve x Eddie from ST)

elmax (Max x Eleven/Jane from ST)

lumax (Max x Lucas from ST)

jopper (Joyce x Hopper from ST)

jargyle (Argyle x Jonathan from ST)

jancy (Jonathan x Nancy from ST)

billy x mandy (from GAOBAM)

kevedd (Kevin x Edd “Double D” from EEnE)

t4t kevedd (same ship as prior, except they’re both trans)

dakavendish (Vinnie Dakota x Balthazar Cavendish from Milo Murphy’s Law)

puppingframe (Clay Puppington x Danielle Stopframe from Moral Orel)

lawlight (L x Light from Death Note—yes I understand how morally grey the relationship is, I try to be very critical of them)

💥🌼 (Boomer x Buttercup from PPG)

🔪🌱 (Butch x Blossom from PPG)

🧱🫧 (Brick x Bubbles from PPG)

(Separately, you can still find “Boomercup”, “Blossutch”, and “Brickubbles” tags on my blog just know it’ll mostly be stuff I make rather than reblogged stuff to cross tag)

mordeson (Benson x Mordecai from Regular Show—please don’t come at me I have multiple ideas that balance them out)

Characters/Dynamics (have posts about them individually)

tmnt raphael

2012 raph

2012 raphael (I interchange them, I’ll switch it up soon)

rottmnt raphael

trans fem raphael

tmnt leo

2012 leo

rottmnt leo

trans fem leo

tmnt donatello

2012 donnie

rottmnt donatello

trans fem donnie

tmnt mikey

april o’neil

casey jones

rottmnt casey jr

yakko warner

wakko warner

dot warner

warner sibs

brain patb

pinky patb

squidward

spongebob

ami mizuno

tamaki suoh

kyoya ootori

bugs bunny

daffy duck

anne boonchuy

marcy wu

sasha waybright

sprig plantar

hop pop plantar

grime

eda the owl lady

raine whispers

king clawthorne

lilith clawthorne

luz noceda

noceda siblings

blight twins

amity blight

velma dinkley

daphne blake

fred jones

marcie fleach

gumball watterson

darwin watterson

watterson sibs

opal

will byers

el hopper

steve harrington

robin buckley

scoops troop (Robin and Steve, sometimes with Dustin and Erica)

double d eene

trans girl double d

kevin eene

trans kevin

clay puppington

orel puppington

blossom utonium

bubbles utonium

buttercup utonium

brick jojo

boomer jojo

butch jojo

benson dunwoody

Other

tj talks (my own text posts or responding to them in a reblog)

tj shares (my own fandom related posts)

tj writes (writing projects and plans)

tj draws (my own art)

texts (all non-fandom related reblogs that I didn’t add to, save for the tags)

reblog (specifically for posts I’ve already reblogged or made that I or others have edited or bumped)

prompts (writing and drawing prompts I want to use at some point in time

fanfic wingmen (a TMNT multi-chapter work I wrote, you can find updates and all those parts there)

sd celeb au (a Scooby-Doo AU I have in the making right now, all prompts and ideas and the eventual fic will be under this tag feel free to ask me abt it)

tbmg (multi-chapter Boomercup fic, any prompts/ideas/chapter updates for it are under this tag)

fppg au (fostered Powerpuff Girls/foster care AU—no powers, not bio siblings)

palestine (resources, information, donations, and other things related to helping out Palestine during the attacks!)

polls (any polls I make and most I find bc I love that feature sm)

asks (answering any asks I receive WHICH are always open feel free to talk to me <3)

ask meme (please ask me questions from these posts)

writing help (pleaaase please give me feedback whatever’s tagged as such as long as you’re polite abt it)

writing (more just discussing plans than actually putting them out, or other people’s fandom-less written works)

art (other people’s general art work)

playlists (typically for characters or moods, I doubt I’ll share many of them)

discord server (advertising any servers I make though unfortunately I’m not the best at interacting in them)

crush (my yearning for a boy, if/when I get over it I’ll go back in and delete the posts)

info (learning from people with experiences or for me to fact check later)

art fight (Art Fight attacks and team intro cards)

what a fucking ride (absolutely insane posts, usually with many twists and turns)

trans resources (lists of articles and videos for myself and my trans siblings early/pre-transition!)

tag meme (games I’ve been tagged in to join that you’re also free to participate in!!)

nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month—participating for the first time in 2023; these are tips I may need and potentially any writing projects during that time :])

trans (transgender tingz)

itt (reblogs specifically from user inthetags where questions they post are answered, well, in the tags; it’s basically a little trivia of me if anyone’s interested at all)

Block (trigger/content warnings and spoilers)

drug cw

tw eating issues

sdmi spoilers (please block this tag if you’re interested in seeing the series, yes there is a plot and it gets so dark and so heavy dude don’t spoil it for yourself)

toh spoilers

amphibia spoilers

sa mention

suggestive cw

nsfw warning

blood

f slur tw

tw sex mention

tw abuse mention

tw sui ideation

slight gore warning

mml spoilers

regular show spoilers

[softprettything]

late bloomer, ch 5

AO3 | Previous | Next

Fandom: OHSHC

Pairing: Kyoya/Reader

Tags: 18+, A/B/O Dynamics, College AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Eventual Smut

Summary: Nobody ever said falling in love with your best friend would be easy.

Taglist (new!): @silverhetdanes

late bloomer, ch 5

“God, another flat white?” You grit your teeth together as you tack the order sticker to the cup and pass it off to Hikaru. “Fucking grad school hipsters.”

“Says Miss matcha latte, please, with oat milk and a pump of vanilla? ”

“I don’t sound like that.”

“One, yes you do,” Kaoru chimes in from your left, grabbing the cup from his twin. (He’s right. You absolutely do.) “And two, you’re just pissy because Haruhi’s missing your super-special, super-roomies slumber party thing.”

You snatch the cup back from him, and push past to the steamer. “It’s a movie night. And it’s tradition. We’ve done it every year since we were eight.”

“So? It’s not like you’ll never see her again.”

Hikaru nods. “You literally live together.”

“Every year,” you repeat stubbornly. “For almost two decades.”

“And I’m sure you’ll do it every other year for centuries to come.”

“Kaoru’s right, (Y/N). Look at it from her perspective.”

“I am .”

“You sure? Because last I checked, it’s not every day you get asked out by an incredibly rich, incredibly good-looking omega.”

“He wasn’t that good looking.”

“But he is rich,” he counters. You open your mouth, and he raises his hands. “I know, I know. Saint Haruhi would never care about something so superficial as looks or money.”

“Probably she just likes that he’s assertive enough to ask her out to her face.” Kaoru leans against the counter next to you, crossing his arms, and leans in, staring at you almost as hard as you’re trying to avoid making eye contact with him. “Instead of, I don’t know, pining after her for years …”

“Shut up.” You look at the clock, and shove the finished drink at him. “And start closing out the register, while you’re at it.”

You escape to wipe down the empty tables, stacking chairs on them once they’re clean. The last customer takes her drink and, mercifully, immediately leaves. You lock the door behind her.

“Someone’s in a rush to get out of here,” one of the twins calls over the counter. You roll your eyes, though it’s more out of affection than annoyance. Or at least equal parts affection and annoyance. When they first started working at Ground Up (one of the busier coffee shops on campus) two summers ago, you were primed to dislike them—the class clown energy, the endless quips and banter.  And you, as the most senior barista on shift, had the joyful task of trying to wrangle them into model service workers. In hindsight, maybe you were a touch too strict. You can’t imagine they liked you all that much back then, either. Those first few weeks in particular were so isolating—the way they talk to each other is almost like a secret language. You suppose that’s one of the perils of sharing a womb for nine months.

But at some point—somewhere between arguing about an espresso machine malfunction, and Hikaru walking in on you crying in the supply closet after a particularly stressful shift—they must have decided to adopt you, or something.

Of course, that doesn’t mean they tease you any less.

But it’s never mean spirited. And it’s nice to have that camaraderie. To be included in their secret language. And besides—no matter how much they may annoy you sometimes, there’s a special tie that forms between a couple of poor kids having to deal with the same stuck-up trust-fund babies coming into the cafe, day in and day out. You guys are trauma bonded, in a way.

“Remind us again why you haven’t asked her out?”

“I—”

“Ohhh, shit, that’s right—you don’t have a reason!” Kaoru cuts you off. “You’re just a wimp.”

Then again, being trauma bonded with them means they know all of your deepest, darkest secrets. Which gives them tons of material with which to be annoying as hell.

“I’m not—” You stop, and sigh. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

“Mm hm.”

“And besides, it’s not like I haven’t told you before.”

“Right.”

“Fine! Fine.” You pause your chair-arranging to face them, ticking off reasons on your fingers. “I don’t want to ruin two decades of friendship. The last thing Haruhi or I need is a relationship when we’re already swamped with school and loans and all of that crap. I’d rather ask her out after school, when we’re employed and financially stable. Odds of college sweethearts lasting are zero to none already, and I don’t want to sour a perfectly good relationship with pointless arguments.” All that endless bickering. For some reason, your mind flickers back to your arguments with Kyoya—in class, at the hospital. The memories alone are enough to set that familiar fire of rage alight in your chest, send the blood rushing through your ears.

“But don’t you think—”

You put a chair up onto a table with such vigor that it ends up slipping right back off, crashing to the ground so loudly that you actually jump. They both rush to your side.

“You okay?” Hikaru asks, as his brother puts the chair up properly.

“I…I have to go.”

“...Okay.”

“I told Haruhi I’d be back in time to help her pick out an outfit,” you say. They both groan. You turn away from them, wiping down another table that you may or may not have already wiped down two minutes ago.

“(Y/N).”

“This is starting to get sad.”

“I mean, it was sad already.”

“Really sad.”

“But c’mon.”

“Guys!” You whirl around with your hands in the air. “Really. It’s not a big deal. She’ll go out on one date with him, and then she’ll get bored, and then…” You notice them exchange a look. “What?”

“Tamaki Suoh can be…a lot,” Hikaru starts. You snort.

“Yeah, I noticed. That’s what I mean, they’re nothing alike at all—”

Kaoru shakes his head. “What we mean is, he can be persistent.”

“Single-mindedly persistent. And charming.”

“ Really charming. When he sets his sights on a goal—”

“And right now it sounds like his goal is to romance Haruhi—”

“He won’t stop at anything.”

You roll your eyes. “So? Haruhi’s not going to get fooled by some…some insincere rich guy who’s just trying to smash.”

“I said romance ,” Hikaru repeat. “If he asked her out, it’s because he wants to date her. As in, a real relationship.”

You think back to the way he looked at her in the hospital. Sure. You suppose that makes sense. “Okay.” You cross your arms. “But, I mean, that isn’t only his call to make. She has to like him enough to want to date him.”

“Yeah. And clearly, she already does,” he points out.

You open your mouth, then close it. Uncross your arms, then cross them again. “How do you know so much about this guy, anyway? I’ve never even heard you mention him before.”

They exchange another look. An infuriatingly unreadable look. It's the kind of look that reminds you—no matter how good friends you may be, you didn't share a womb with them, and you'll never be able to read their secret language completely.

“We’ve had a lot of classes with him,” Kaoru finally volunteers.

“Yeah. That.”

You give them an odd look of your own, before returning to cleaning. “Whatever.”

They sigh in unison. “It’s really not healthy for you to be fixating so much on one person, (Y/N),” says Hikaru.

“You think I don’t know that? Trust me, I’d love to just be able to go on dates with people.”

“I don’t think you do, though, is the thing.” Hikaru hops up to sit on the table you’re wiping. You stop, but avoid making eye contact. “It’s starting to feel like an excuse, at this point.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Like, as long as you’re so focused on not-dating Haruhi, you don’t have to go through the stress of actually dating anyone.”

“And then you don’t have to open up to anyone, which means you don’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

You plop down in one of the remaining chairs, and raise your eyebrows at them. “What is this, one of your psych projects?”

“I mean it! And hey, look—if you want to be single, then stay single. But don’t do it because you’re stuck in a one-sided unrequited whatever.”

“And if you do have to be stuck in a one-sided unrequited whatever, why not switch it up? Pick someone else for a change. You don’t have to automatically be in love with the person you’ve known the longest.”

“Yeah. If that was the case, Hikaru and I would be screwed.”

You let yourself crack a smile at that. “Fine. I hear you, okay? I don’t necessarily agree with you…but I hear you.” You glance at your watch. “Shit. I have to run—you guys can put this last chair up, right?" You grab your bookbag off the floor and take off. "And don’t forget to take out the trash!” you call over your shoulder.

As the door closes behind you, the twins look at each other and shake their heads.

[nice-kill-tanaka]

Can I have a matchup for Ouran Highschool Host Club? I use she/they pronouns and I'm poly and pansexual. My favorite colors are black and gold. I play volleyball and I love to rollerskate. I collect heels. I have two cats as well as anxiety. I'm a plant mom. I'm hardworking and determined. I have anger issues and I tend to hold grudges. I can Oikawa from Haikyuu. My favorite foods are french toast and sunny side up eggs. I'm a September Virgo. Thanks and have a good day :)

[🌄 @elaineiswithyou-blog requested one (1) regular Ouran High School Host Club matchup. I have just the ingredients for that! Sit tight while I get to work.🌌]

Seijoh kinnies unite ✊(Personally, I’m a Mattsun kinnie. It’s just the chill, “minding your business” vibe that I can relate to).

And to answer your question on the Rules post! “One per visit” means I’ll only do one fandom in that type of request. So if you want a Haikyuu!! and a BNHA matchup, I’ll only do one of those fandoms. It keeps my mental health in check 😅

Oh! Also, I think someone likes you:

🗿Takashi Morinozuka🗿

🌱Humble Beginnings🌱

- Before anyone else, you were friends with Tamaki Suoh and Kyoya Ootori

- You were a commoner at Ouran on a volleyball scholarship. So, you naturally had that “meek commoner innocence” people seemed to gravitate towards

- Tamaki found you intriguing and charismatic for someone of your financial status. So, he and Kyoya sort of adopted you as their figurative raccoon (trash baby) friend

- So, you started hanging out at the Host Club sometimes after volleyball practice

- One particular time, Kyoya and Tamaki are busy with clients, so you were greeted by the loli you recognized as Honey-senpai. The fact that the boy was older than you, yet so small, put you off. You addressed him respectfully nonetheless

- Honey apparently came to you to ask for cake, but you didn’t have any. So, you offered him your leftover french toast from breakfast

- You watched as Honey nibbled at the lukewarm bread, hoping you wouldn’t trigger some sort of tantrum by giving him something he didn’t like. Instead, Honey smiled and downed the rest in…what looked like one bite…?

- “Do you have any more, (Y/N)-chan?!”

- “Well…no. (That was my supply for tomorrow actually…). But, I can make more if that’s what you want?”

- “Mitsukuni. It’s impolite to ask strangers for food.”

- You were sure you heard a pouty reply from Honey. Something along the lines of: “She’s not a stranger, they’re (Y/N)-chan!” But, at that point, you weren’t really able to register it

- The guy in front of you and the boy clinging to your uniform was the personification of a streetlight: tall, silent, and easy to recognize at any point in time. His dark eyes were nonchalant, like this wasn’t the first time he’s had to say something to Honey about this. Dare you say, you would’ve considered him pretty if you weren’t so intimidated

- You recognized him too. Morinozuka was his real name, you think?

- You quickly clear up the situation as Honey runs off to do something safe enough that Mori could focus on you. Surprisingly enough, his aura was just as warm and delicate when talking to you! You wondered if he could sense how nervous you were

- The conversation (that you mostly led, helped along by Mori’s few questions) veered to your volleyball scholarship. You fretted over how your stamina just wasn’t all there during practice or matches. Especially during conditioning

- Honey, ever the eavesdropper, mentioned that Mori could help you with strength training if he was up for it

- You glanced at Mori, hesitant to ask. But, once Mori shrugged and agreed to help you, you were much more open to the idea

- The first training session was hard. Like, really hard. Mori was a tough, but fair, trainer. He seemed to like putting you into sink-or-swim situations where you have no choice but to succeed. But, you enjoyed it, you wanted to do more

- (Besides, Mori wore a tank top during your sessions. Those biceps were WORTH IT)

🌳Flourishing Love🌳

- You started crushing on Mori first

- Underneath his strong, silent exterior, he was very kind and considerate. And you found that out through dragging him to breakfast cafés and your favorite roller rink after training sessions as a “thank you” (With Honey of course)

- And while something told you that he liked you too, Mori was a little too stoic for you to know for sure

- (But, you still found his stoicism hot-)

- Tamaki and Kyoya caught wind of your crush on Mori early. And since they’ve known Mori for longer, they were able to tell that he liked you back. However, they decided not to say anything to keep you from denying your feelings in an embarrassed rage

- You tried to drop hints to Mori with offers to hang out outside of school, invites to your volleyball games, even giving him a succulent to take care of! (To appeal to his nurturing tendencies)

- But, Mori wasn’t picking up on the hints. And if he was? He was doing a terrible job of showing it

- The day after a particular training session. You couldn’t keep your feelings to yourself anymore. You ranted to Kyoya and Tamaki about the way Mori helped you through a Charlie-horse in your leg. And how it was so frustrating that you were down so atrociously, but that you weren’t getting anywhere in your relationship with Mori

- “I see his shirt ride up once and suddenly he’s all I-“

- You stopped as your friends’ gazes shifted to just behind you. You sighed, regretting every decision you’ve ever made to lead yourself to this point. Your voice came out in a strangled push:

- “…If he’s behind me, just say that…”

- At Tamaki and Kyoya’s nod, you turned around to see, of course, Mori behind you. Honey had dragged him there when he heard the group talking

- You stuttered and struggled to backtrack. But, as you were doing that, Mori went to dig around in his bookbag. He handed you a Tupperware container of homemade French toast, sunny side up eggs, and a note

- “Date? Without Mitsukuni this time.”

- Although flabbergasted, you accepted the invitation and confession

- Your first date was at the beach, where you had a beach volleyball game (You comment on how Mori would make a great middle blocker)

- Although he never considered it, Mori was open to the idea of introducing more people into your relationship. He’d be willing to try it once

- Your first kiss was at the roller rink after your volleyball team made it to nationals. In an excited act of impulse, you kissed Mori when he caught you after tripping

- Your two cats highly enjoy Mori’s company, and whine when he has to go home

- Mori is incredible at calming your anxieties, seeing as he’s had to deal with Honey’s child-like behavior

- On that note, he’s a great person to rant to when something gets on your nerves!

- You two are an unlikely couple that works surprisingly well. Maybe it’s because you’re both earth signs 🤔

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one matchup for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan

[softprettything]

late bloomer, ch 4

AO3 | Previous | Next

Fandom: OHSHC

Pairing: Kyoya/Reader

Tags: 18+, A/B/O Dynamics, College AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Eventual Smut

Summary: Nobody ever said falling in love with your best friend would be easy.

late bloomer, ch 4

You wake up to a bright light and a high-pitched beeping and what feels like a bag of sand under your head. 

A few shifts later, you realize it’s actually a pillow. A stiff-to-the-point-of-uselessness pillow, but a pillow nonetheless, because you’re lying on some kind of cot. The ceiling above you is a painful shade of white; the walls, too, and as you blink the leftover sleep from your eyes, you realize that the beeping is coming from a machine to your left—a heart monitor, attached to you with various wires connected to your finger, arm, chest.

“Hey, you.” In your dizzy, drowsy state, the sound of Haruhi’s voice feels like a balm to the ache in your head. You turn to see her sitting to your right, looking uncharacteristically concerned. That has you nervous—it takes a lot to rattle Haruhi. “My advisor meeting ran late, so I only just got here, but the nurse said they brought you in twenty minutes ago. All you alright? What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” you say—half out of habit, half because you actually aren’t quite sure. What did happen? How did you get from the classroom to the student hospital? “Nothing serious. Really.”

“You’re hooked up to, like, ten different machines. It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“She fainted,” interrupts a new voice—this one familiar, too, but in a way that makes you tense up automatically. “You’re the emergency contact, I imagine?”

“Roommate.” She stands, and sticks out her hand. “Haruhi.”

“Kyoya.” Your eyes are already fluttering back shut from exhaustion, so you can’t see whether he accepts the handshake or not. “She fainted on her way out of class. Is this a common occurrence for her?”

“Not that I know of.”

“I can hear you talking about me,” you say. They both ignore you.

“Any history of stroke, seizure, anything like that?”

“I’m ba-aack,” sings a new voice. The door swings shut behind him with an audible thump that has your eyes opening, ever so slightly, to see the blonde boy from the hallway. “It took me ages to find the vending machines, and everything there looked so sad and tasteless, Kyoya, it really was tragic—Oh, you’re alive!”

“Awake. She wasn’t dead before.”

“No thanks to you.” He kneels before you and holds up a bottle of electrolyte drink, offering it as though it were a freshly-plucked rose. “On Kyoya’s behalf, as a token of apology.”

“It isn’t my fault she fainted,” Kyoya says, clearly trying very hard to keep his patience. “I wasn’t standing anywhere near her.”

“Exactly. You didn’t even make a move to catch her, and then maybe she would have hit her head and then maybe she would have died, and then where would we be?” The blond boy turns back to you, and flashes you a dizzying smile. “You must forgive my friend. You’d think someone of his pedigree would have better manners, and yet…”

In your most lucid moments, you’re not sure you’d have a good response to a sight like this: the most audaciously good-looking man you’ve ever met in your life, kneeling at your bedside like some knight-errant out of a book. As it is, this is not one of your most lucid moments. So instead of saying anything at all, you just blink at him a few times. He smiles more widely still, and presses the bottle into your hand. 

“Drink up, then,” he says brightly, popping to his feet. “You’ll need it. I used to have fainting spells before my heats, too.”

You almost do a spittake. “What? No, I—this is—”

“People faint for reasons other than heats, Tamaki.” There’s an edge to Kyoya’s voice—not unkind, but stern—before he turns back to Haruhi. If you had a better opinion of him, you might think he was shutting down the conversation to avoid outing your presentation. “So, you said she doesn’t faint often. No strokes, seizures—any history of anemia, maybe?”

Haruhi purses her lips. “She used to have low iron count, but not anemic levels—but she isn’t great at remembering to take her multivitamin. Maybe that could be it.”

You’re still looking at Tamaki over the rim of the energy drink bottle—so you see his face when he hears her speak for the first time. The head turn; the flushed cheeks; the look in his eyes. 

You know that look. You’ve been wearing one like it for the better part of two decades.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” He even sounds breathless, somehow. As though he weren’t just standing in place. “Miss…”

“Haruhi. We’re roommates.” She says it in the way only Haruhi can—as though she’s completely immune to his looks and charm (which, knowing Haruhi, she probably is)—before turning back to you. “Okay. You look fine enough to me, so I’m going to go see if we can get you discharged. Did they leave any paperwork here to fill out?”

Behind her, Kyoya lifts up a clipboard—but before he can so much as open his mouth, Tamaki leaps and grabs it from him. “Here! I’ll come with you.”

“I don’t thi—”

“I’ll read out the questions, and write down your answers—that way you can keep an eye out for a nurse or doctor.”

She glances back at you. “I don’t know if I should leave (Y/N) alone.”

“Kyoya can stay with her.” He looks over at him, his eyes pleading.

Kyoya sighs. “Happy to.” 

Before you can protest, Tamaki claps his hands, practically glowing. “Perfect!” He offers an elbow to Haruhi. “Shall we?”

If you weren’t so out of it, you’d swear you almost see the hint of a smile rise to her lips. She ignores his elbow, but walks with him through the door. You can hear his chattering fade as they disappear down the hall, leaving you here. Alone. With Kyoya.

He clears his throat, clearly about to say something. You interrupt. “You really don’t have to stay here, you know.”

“I know,” he says. “But your friend’s right. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone until they’ve figured out what’s wrong.”

“What’s there to figure out? I fainted. I’m here. I’m fine.” You hold up the electrolyte drink. “I’ll hydrate, go home, and sleep it off.”

“You’ve never fainted before?”

“No. So?”

“It can be a sign of a deeper underlying condition. Blood pressure, heart function, things like that. Normally I’d wave it off as a sign of an approaching cycle, but…”

He trails off, and you raise an eyebrow. “But?” He shrugs, and you laugh, sitting up straighter in your bed. “But we’ve already established that I’m a ‘defunct omega,’ so you know I don’t have a heat or rut coming up. Is that what you were going to say?”

He sighs. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m sure you didn’t mean anything. From how disinterested you seemed in the class as a whole, I’d be surprised to find out you put any thought into your comments at all.” 

“What makes you think I was disinterested?”

You give him a look. “Your little speech about how you were only taking it to fulfill a requirement, for starters.”

“Would you have preferred I lied?”

“I would have preferred you not announce to the world your disdain for the humanities, and for betas in particular.”

He scoffs. “Now you’re just projecting. Just because you clearly have some sort of beta persecution complex, that doesn’t give you the right to assume—”

“Assume what?” You feel fire rising in your throat. You push the blankets off of you, and stand, slowly walking towards him. “Maybe I do have a persecution complex; maybe I am making assumptions. Because I’ll tell you this: when I look at you, what I see is a spoiled little rich boy, probably a pedigreed alpha, raised from birth with the assurance that your opinion matters more than that of anyone else in any room you walk into; and because of that, somewhere along the road you decided that it didn’t matter if you learned manners or friendliness or basic human empathy, because all of that silly sentimental nonsense was below someone of your intellectual prowess.” You tilt your head, eyes locked on his. “Tell me, Mr. Ootori, is that an unfair assumption?”

“I—” You see a flush creeping up his neck, and you stop where you stand, half-pleased to have gotten a rise out of him. He takes a step in your direction, then, and you realize how close you really are. Behind you, the machine picks up in tempo. He’s breathing more heavily, and you’re half aware that his chest is rising and falling at the same rate as yours. He swallows. “You—”

“Looks like you’re good to go!” 

The two of you stumble away from each other as Tamaki all but bursts through the door, Haruhi and one of the nurses trailing behind him. The nurse and Haruhi both rush to your side. “You shouldn’t be standing.”

As they help you back to the bed, you say, dizzily, “Tamaki said I’m good to go.”

“Pending a check of your blood pressure and other vitals.” The nurse takes a glance at the heart monitor, which, as you lay back down, is starting to return to normal. You think she’s going to require you stay for another few hours, maybe even overnight, but as she surveys the room, something changes in her expression. “Ah. That’s nothing to worry about, then.”

“What?” Haruhi asks.

“No standing up too quickly, and reduce stress as much as you can, for the next day at least. But other than that, I don’t see anything of concern.” She bends down to pick something up, and places it in your hand. The sports drink. “Finish that before you head out, alright sweetheart?” You nod, and she smiles. “Alright, then. You all have a good one.”

She heads out. You sip the sports drink, trying to blink away the dizziness. When you’re back in focus, you see Tamaki step towards you.

“Good to meet you, (Y/N). Feel better soon.” He flashes a small smile at you, and then a brighter one at Haruhi, waving as he walks out the door, Kyoya close behind. The latter doesn’t turn back to look at you. You aren’t sure why that leaves you feeling disappointed.

Haruhi clears her throat. “How are you feeling?” You nod. “Good.” She comes over to you to help you sit up slowly. It brings your heart rate even closer to normal. Haruhi always does, somehow. You suppose it makes sense, given how long you’ve known each other. Crush aside, you’ve known each other practically since infancy. Since the death of your parents, she’s the closest thing to family you have left.

“You know,” you say, playfully as you can, “I think the blond one might have taken a liking to you. You should have seen the way he looked at you.”

“I know,” she says. “I gave him my number.”

[softprettything]

late bloomer, ch 3

AO3 | Previous | Next

Fandom: OHSHC

Pairing: Kyoya/Reader

Tags: 18+, A/B/O Dynamics, College AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Eventual Smut

Summary: Nobody ever said falling in love with your best friend would be easy.

late bloomer, ch 3

Ootori. The name seems familiar—from where, you aren’t sure. You certainly don’t recognize the face attached to it. The newcomer is tall and dark haired, with equally dark eyes peering out from wire rimmed glasses. He’s disconcertingly sleek; the oddly formal suit he’s wearing (to a nine a.m. class, no less), the wingtip shoes, the aristocratic delicacy of his features. The only unpolished thing about his appearance is the tips of his ears, slightly reddened from the cold.

“Forgive my lateness,” is the only thing he says as he crosses the room to take the lone empty seat on the other side of Abe.

“No worries. We were just going around and introducing ourselves.”

“Ah. Yes.” He sits, shrugging off his jacket to reveal a crisp white button down underneath. “My name is Kyoya Ootori. Second year. I’m not in any of the humanities departments, I’m simply taking this class to fulfill some requirement—my advisor told me I needed to diversify my courseload. So.”

He leaves it at that. After an awkward pause, Abe clears his throat. “Well! We’re happy to have you. Hopefully you end up finding something of interest in our work this semester.”

Kyoya makes a noncommittal hum in response, solidifying your budding dislike. He can’t even pretend to be a little invested? It’s the first day!

Abe launches into a discussion—a brief summary of the book (as though you all haven’t read it a dozen times); a few talking points to get you all started.

As you listen to your classmates talk, jumping in a few times to add a point of your own, you can’t help but let your attention drift over, again and again, to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Douchey. He hasn’t spoken up even once. Hasn’t taken any notes. You notice he doesn’t even seem to have a copy of the book with him.

All the while, you’re running his name over and over in his head—where have you heard that before?

Something Olivia says catches your attention: “To be honest, I don’t really get why this book is applicable to this class. They barely dig into the topic of presentation at all.”

Your reaction must show on your face, because Abe turns his attention to you. “(Y/N)? What do you think about that?”

You open your mouth, then close it, drafting up an argument in your head. It's not all that difficult to find the words—after all, your application essay for this class centered around this exact topic. “I think that's a common misconception. But I’d argue that the first proposal scene alone is one of the most complex examples of intersectional discrimination in any of Austen’s work, if not the entire Regency canon.”

Olivia tilts her head. “Really?”

You nod, relieved to have been met with curiosity and not disadain. “The first time he proposes to her, it’s framed as an act of charity. A pity ask.” She purses her lips. You notice, for the first time, the little pendant at the base of her throat—three silver Ωs, embedded with little pink stones (her birthstone, if you had to guess). Just like that, your enthusiasm dims slightly—and you choose your words even more carefully. “And I think the reasoning behind her refusal is actually really beautiful. From the text, we learn that it’s been a few years since Elizabeth has been confirmed to not go through heats or ruts. But Lizzie herself never draws attention to it, or shows any shame. It’s only her mother and society that seem to have a problem with it. To say yes to Darcy’s first proposal wouldn’t just be a rejection of her values—it would be a rejection of her own sense of self worth.”

“Still, I’d argue that the first proposal is the more honest of the two.”

You were expecting a rebuttal from Olivia (you’d been on campus long enough to recognize a Triple-O necklace when you saw one—and nobody was more protective of traditional dynamics than a sorority-pledged omega). But she’s completely silent; the voice that chimed in was lower, more melodic. You look over to see Kyoya looking straight at you.

“What?” you ask.

“After all, it is a pity ask, is it not? She’s a defunct omega—” You flinch at that. Here we go. “—from an impoverished family—”

“A beta,” you interrupt.

His brows lift. “They never use the term.”

“Because the term hadn’t yet been invented.” You catch a snicker or two from your classmates, prompted by your defensive tone. Deep down, you know that every word you say is just placing more of a target on your back, but you just can’t help it. And besides—who cares? A few laughs are nothing. You’ve dealt with worse before. “It wasn’t coined for a few years after Austen’s death. Decades more, by the time it was considered a medically sound diagnosis.”

Kyoya rolls his eyes. You bite your tongue. “Very well. She’s a beta from an impoverished family. Either way, she won’t be capable, to his knowledge, of giving him children. And, to top it off, she has no sense of propriety. Is it any wonder his aunt objected to the match?”

“But that’s what makes it so powerful when he finally comes around,” you say, patiently as you can muster. “He’s bucking both societal standards and his own internalized prejudice.”

“To what end? It’s a worthless match. She has nothing to offer him.”

“Love. A match of minds. Traditional dynamic compatibility isn’t everything.”

He mutters something—too low for you to be absolutely certain of what it was he said. But if you had to place a bets, you’d be pretty sure that the words “typical” and “beta” were included somewhere in there. You can’t stop the note of anger that enters your voice as you ask, “Excuse me?”

Abe claps his hands. “Okay, well. Looks like that’s all the time we have left for today. Don’t forget to check the syllabus before our next meeting; and I know it’s the first day, but the first paper is due in two weeks! That might seem early, I know,” he chuckles, in response to a few groans, “but it’s with good reason. The Jen T. Goodwin scholarship contest deadline is a week after you submit that paper, and the parameters are the same—five to seven pages, double-spaced.” That catches your attention. The JTG is the biggest writing scholarship the university has to offer—ten thousand dollars. You’ve come in second place every year you’ve submitted (to the same guy, you’re pretty sure), but hey, you were an undergraduate then—surely you’ll have a better shot now that you have a Bachelor’s degree under your belt? “The sooner you hand something in, the sooner you can get feedback, so it’s never too early to start thinking about a good topic.”

You’re almost lightheaded with annoyance as you zip up your bag and make a beeline for the door. God. College ought to have been better than high school—less people you'd grown up with since infancy, no more identifying bracelets announcing your presentation to the entire world. You’ve managed to make it through most classes without being outed. But you can’t bottle your frustration when people start to shit talk betas just for existing—and being so overzealous about beta rights is almost always a dead giveaway.

One would think that being a beta would make things less complicated—and in many ways, it does. Or in a few key ways, anyway. While betas aren’t unheard of, they aren’t exactly common, either. Less than one percent of the global population, according to modern statistics. Even in the present, with modern-day presentation-reassignment treatments increasingly available to the public, that number has stayed low (though that may be thanks to the difficulties of full gland removal. Easier to transition to being an omega, or an alpha, like Haruhi—hormone treatments are so much less invasive than surgeries, and better studied, too. And trans betas have even less treatment options, due to the risks of long-term cycle suppression).

In any case—you’ve long been accustomed to being one of two, maybe three betas in any given lecture hall, and the only beta in most seminars you’ve taken. Sitting in silence in a corner of the room during junior high, during the Health class unit in first cycles. And, of course, watching as, one by one, your peers had their own first heats and ruts. Most would just disappear for a few days, a week. Occasionally longer. But there was one kid you remember who started his in the middle of the day, without a pre-heat to warn him. The class was evacuated quickly, as soon as the teacher took notice, which only took a matter of seconds. But you were at the tail end of the line, and for a moment you and the boy locked eyes. You’ll never forget it: the sweat running down his brow. The pain and confusion in his voice.

But, worst of all: the look in his eyes.

Blank.

Hungry.

Helpless. Absolutely helpless.

After that day, you had an easier time coming to terms with your presentation. Softened the sting of being the odd one out, of all the jeers and taunts and snide comments made by your classmates. Even the jokes in sitcoms made towards betas didn’t bother you as much. By the time you reached college, you’d developed a sense of pride, even, in your status. Let the world laugh. You’d never have to deal with suppressants, or unexpected cycles, or the stereotypes associated with either of the Big Two presentations. A little loneliness was a small price to pay for all of that.

Plus, it’s not like you were always alone. You had Haruhi, after all. Nearly 20 years of friendship—from the playground days, through her transition, through the death of your parents, to living together throughout all of college—nothing had ever been able to come between you.

Or shake your crush on her, it seems.

Even now, the thought of seeing her later this week has you feeling a bit calmer. You and Haruhi often go days without speaking. It makes sense—you're both fairly introverted, and your schedules, at odds at the best of times, are downright hellish this semester, what with class and work and all. Besides, you've been friends for long enough to be able to fall into a silence that feels comfortable, rather that stifling (like an old married couple, the lovesick part of you can't help but chime in).

But no matter what, the two of you always carve out time to do something special the first Friday of the semester. Movie night, usually, with popcorn and face masks and pedicures. Already you can’t wait, your excitement causing you to pick up the pace slightly. You’ve almost reached the door when he cuts in front of you. Ootori. Kyoya. “Excuse you,” you mutter.

He turns—not fully. Just enough for you to catch a glimpse of those eyes, the glint of his glasses, before he turns back to greet the bubbly blond-haired boy waiting for him in the hall.

Or, at least, you think that’s what he does. It’s sort of hard to tell, because all of a sudden you’re lightheaded for real, and your vision is blurring and gravity feels wrong and the floor the floor the floor is right there—

[softprettything]

late bloomer, ch i

AO3 | Next

Fandom: OHSHC

Pairing: Kyoya/Reader

Tags: 18+, A/B/O Dynamics, College AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Eventual Smut

Summary: At first sight, you and Kyoya Ootori couldn’t be more different. He was raised in wealth; you work triple shifts at the local coffee shop. He’s a born-and-bred alpha; you’ve spent years fending off societal scorn at your status as a beta. He’s a pompous ass; you…well, you’ve never claimed to be the nicest person alive, but at least you have some concept of manners. However, you do have two very important things in common: first, you’re both grad students at Ouran University.

Second, you’re both desperately in love with your roommates.

(Or: the slice-of-life a/b/o fic in which you and Kyoya agree to fake date in order to make your respective crushes jealous. Everything goes according to plan and nobody falls in love with the wrong person...right?)

(Right?)

late bloomer, ch i

There are some people you just can’t help but fall in love with. 

Call it fate, call it biology, call it hormones—whatever you want to blame it on. Personally, you’re inclined to go for biology. After all, for you this whole mess started at birth, the day the doctor took a prick of blood from your tiny newborn finger and, after running the typical panel of neonatal tests, stamped that final seal on your birth certificate. 

Your parents never lied to you about your presentation—how could they? Even at six, the school had you all wearing little bracelets, so that you’d be used to them by the time you were old enough to go to the upper school. You still remember it now, the little purple band, the sterling pendant that dangled from it. The way it glimmered in the light, that tiny letter B taunting you as the boy you liked responded to your confession by pushing you down on the playground.

*****************

“Why would I like you, (Y/N)?” Yuri crossed his arms, squinting down at you as you tried to push back up onto your little elbows. A few of his friends gathered behind him, assembling to enjoy the scene. “You’re just a stinky beta.”

“I’m—m’not stinky.” You let out a little sniffle, dragging the back of your hand across your nose, and to your horror you heard him laugh. “I’m not!”

“Yeah, you are,” one of his friends chimed in, a dainty omega girl with silky hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion. Mimi, you think her name was. It’s funny, now, to think about. How even then, at such a young age, it was so clear to you that some people were pretty and some were not, and you couldn’t help but feel as though you fell decidedly into the latter category. “Look at you, rolling around in the mud like a little piggy! Oink, oink!” Even snorting in an exaggerated fashion, she was adorable, and you felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. You opened your mouth to offer up another half-hearted defense, when you were interrupted by another voice behind you.

“You should leave her alone.” Another little girl. The bullies fell silent; when you turned, you saw why. With the sun behind her, the light shining out from her silhouette like a crown, or a halo, her eyes dark and serious as took another step forward, she looked like an avenging angel. Or, like, the six-year-old equivalent. 

“Yeah? Why?” In spite of Yuri’s attempts to match the newcomer’s attitude, you heard his voice waver. “You can’t tell us what to do, Haruhi. You’re a beta too.”

“Well.” Haruhi tilted her head. “That doesn’t matter until we’re bigger. So you can’t tell me what to do, either. So you should leave me and (Y/N) alone or else I’ll tell Miss Ria and she’ll give you time out again, and then you won’t get to take from the prize drawer at the end of the week.”

The entire small crew paled, and slowly fizzled away. You heard whoops, little bubbly laughs, fading into chatter as they were distracted by other schoolyard activities. You were still sniffling when you felt Haruhi kneel down besides you.

“Are you okay?”

You gave her a wet nod. “Yeah.” You hiccupped, and then immediately broke down into full tears. “What if they’re right?”

“They’re just mean. They’re not right about anything.”

“What if they’re right about me? Maybe nobody’s ever gonna like me, because I’m a beta.”

“But your mom was a beta, probably. Or your dad. Or both. And they still had you.”

“No.” You shook your head with a wail. “My mom’s an alpha, an’ my dad’s an omega. What if there’s something wrong with me?”

So many children tend to cry whenever someone else is crying. They’re so young; they can’t help it. But Haruhi was calm as she made her next point. Quiet. “My mom was a beta, and she still had me. And my dad’s an alpha, and he loved her more than anyone else, so.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She patted your shoulder stiffly. “I think lots of people will like you. I like you.”

You looked up at her. Even blurred by tears, there was something about her, something so odd and gripping about those dark, sad eyes. “I like you too.”

After a moment, she smiled. “Want to go on the monkey bars?”

*****************

There are some people you can’t help but fall in love with. The question is: when do you figure it out?

[softprettything]

late bloomer, ch ii

AO3 | Previous | Next

Fandom: OHSHC

Pairing: Kyoya/Reader

Tags: 18+, A/B/O Dynamics, College AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Eventual Smut

Summary: Nobody ever said falling in love with your best friend would be easy.

late bloomer, ch ii

One would think that, at twenty-two, you would maybe have the whole independent adult thing figured out by now. 

“Have you seen my copy of Pride and Prejudice?” You pick up a shirt off the floor and chuck it into the hamper. It misses. You ignore it, too busy scanning the rest of your room. It looks like a hurricane passed through. Half because you’ve spent the past five minutes tearing it apart in search of the missing book, and half because…well, evidently, you haven’t figured out the independent adult thing, in whole or in part, very well at all.

Your roommate’s in the kitchen when you walk out, pouring over a textbook, as per the usual. “Morning,” you greet her. 

“Morning.” With her eyes fixed firmly on the page, she pushes a mug of green tea in your direction. You accept it mindlessly. “I thought you took it to bed with you.”

“So did I. Last minute annotations. But it was gone when I woke up.”

“Did you leave it on the nightstand?”

“Nope.”

“Under the pillow?”

“I shook out the whole bed. Nothing.”

“Backpack?”

You dash back to your bedroom, balancing the mug haphazardly on the pile of books next to your lamp. Backpack, backpack, where is your backpack….aha! You hit the floor, peering under your bed. Bingo. And sure enough, zipped in the front pocket, is a well-worn copy of P&P.

“You’re a genius,” you call out to Haruhi, and finally take a sip of the tea as you return to the kitchen. Green, as always—you’re not a coffee person, but you need the caffeine. Ideal temperature. Steeped to perfection. “My hero. When’s your first class today?”

“Don’t have any.” 

“Lucky.” The mug of coffee by her left hand is almost empty already. “Did you sleep last night?” For as long as you’ve known her, Haruhi has had an almost freakish ability to complete inhuman amounts of work without succumbing to illness or fatigue. 

“I slept enough.”

“Haruhi.” You plop down in the chair across from her, and point to the fridge. “What did we say about sleep this semester? On the goal chart?”

The goal chart in question is a sheet of looseleaf magnet-ed to the freezer, where you’ll both be forced to see it in the morning, with a Venn Diagram drawn in faded orange Sharpie. It’s got things like 7 hours every night on Haruhi’s side, keep room clean on yours, and a big, bold LESS CAFFEINE scrawled in the section where the circles overlap. Clearly, you’re both off to a great start.

“We also said you were going to stop signing up for classes on Humanities Hill.” She angles her phone towards you. 8:48. 

“Shit.” You scoop up your backpack, plant a kiss on her head, and head for the door. “Love you. See you later.”

“Have a good class.” 

When you glance back, you see she’s finally looked up at you, away from the book, with a rare Haruhi smile. Subtle. Perfect. You’re blushing as you walk down the stairs.

Then you take another look at your phone, and take off sprinting down the sidewalk.

********************************

According to Google Maps, Humanities Hill—the cluster of buildings on the far side of campus where most of the English and Philosophy department hold court—is about a fifteen minute walk from your cramped one-point-five-bedroom apartment (you’re pretty sure your room was originally intended as a walk-in closet)—and that’s without a thin layer of snow on the ground, and the wind blowing full-force into your face. You somehow make it in nine. The seminar table is almost full, with only a few seats left. You slide into one by the windows, between a pretty blonde girl and a scruffy redhead with glasses and a manbun.

“I’m assuming you’re (Y/N)?” he asks, ticking off a box on the tablet in front of him when you nod. “Great. We’re just waiting on one more person, but I think…” He checks the watch on his wrist. “Yep. Let’s get started, and they can catch up when they get here. Awesome. So!” He claps his hands, and the general chatter in the room dies down. “Hey everyone! Welcome to The Radical Dynamics of Jane Austen. Abe here, I’ll be leading the class. I’m a third year post-doc fellow at Ouran, doing crossover work in the English and Gender Studies departments. I mostly work with Professor Sara Suzuki, if you’ve ever taken any of her classes.” A murmur of recognition ripples around the table. “Awesome. This is my second time teaching the course, so I’m looking forward to being able to share with you guys whatever insight I can, and also to hear what you have to say, and hopefully get some fresh perspectives. This field is always super relevant, and changing, and it starts here, with conversations like these.”

As everyone goes around the table introducing themselves—and as the caffeine kicks in—you feel the excitement well up in you. You’ve wanted to take this class since you were a freshman in the undergraduate school, and took a lecture about A/B/O in world literature with Professor Suzuki. Back then, you’d been attending Ouran on a pre-med scholarship. Suzuki was a trailblazer in her field; back then she had already won several awards for her research, and in the present-day you’d heard rumors floating that, at thirty-six, she was already being considered for tenure.

You remember what it felt like to see her speak. The realization that, not only was this something that people could study—this was something people studied and took seriously. You’d finished out your pre-med degree, but—with no small amount of encouragement from Haruhi—had decided to take a risk and apply to Ouran’s graduate program in humanities anyway. 

And, by some miracle, you’d gotten in. 

Which meant applying for boatloads of other scholarships, sure—and upping your shifts at the cafe down the block—but it also meant you got to be here. In rooms like these. Even a full semester in, you can’t help but feel the happy glow of having accomplished the impossible.

The blonde—Elle—finishes introducing herself, and nods at you. You beam. “Hi everyone! My name is (Y/N), and I’m a first year grad student here, as well. I went to Ouran for my undergrad degree, and I’m just—”

You’re interrupted by a loud bang from the direction of the door. All eyes turn. 

“Ah. Mr…” Abe glances down at his attendance roster. “Ootori. Nice of you to join us.”

[softprettything]

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this blog posts and interacts with adult content. minors dni.

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i tend to write f!reader (so you may run into afab anatomy, she/her pronouns, and gendered nicknames like ‘good girl’ while reading). occasionally I do write gn!reader, and when I do so I’ll indicate it in the tags/summary.

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