#also will anyone do my calc homework for me

[beepsheeps]

pt 4! i hope u guys enjoy these as much as i do (pt 5) (pt 3)

[watery-melon-baller]

lads it's so fucking frustrating when you desperately want to learn and understand something but u just can't fucking get ir

[lizpaige]

I really would to see more Lynch brothers/Adam interactions, if you’re up to it 🫰🏻

hiiiii anon tysm for the prompt! sorry it took a minute. i'm back at work so prompts will take me longer to get through. shameless plug once again for my fic, fáilte, which has some more lynch bros/adam interactions. but hope you enjoy some more Declan being sus of Adam! (and Adam helping Matty with his calc homework)

It was winter break and despite spending most of it in DC, they (Matthew) decided to spend a week at the Barns. Declan was only slightly surprised to see Adam Parrish's jalopy in the driveway when they arrived. He and Ronan were dating. That was also news that didn't surprise Declan... well, maybe a little.

Now, Declan sat in the living room in direct eye-line of the kitchen, where Adam was sitting at the round table with Matthew going over his calculus homework. Of course, Declan was pretending not to look, instead typing idly on his phone an email that was long overdue but his focus was on the kitchen. It started like this:

Declan found coffee in the pot early in the morning, although Ronan was not a coffee drinker. He poured himself a cup anyway, nearly jumping out of his skin when he heard a noise behind him. He turned to find Adam Parrish at the breakfast nook, coffee next to him, textbooks, pens, and an open refurbished laptop illuminating his freckled, exhausted face. He looked up for a moment, nodded to Declan, and then resumed his studying.

He wanted to make breakfast, but his stomach churned wearily. He wanted to make some toast, but the toaster always made him feel uneasy. Instead, he grabbed his black coffee, went into the living room, and sat silently on Aurora's old sewing chair, watching the doorway to the kitchen. Could he trust Adam Parrish? Maybe. Possibly. He needed more data.

Matthew bounded in sometime later, sleep rumpled and beaming. He had no qualms about disturbing Adam in the kitchen, waving and sharing a cheery "Hey, man!" before rummaging through the cupboards for cereal. Declan's coffee sat untouched and cold on the end table next to him.

"He's the worst! He gave us like 100 problems to do this break," Matthew said loudly, his mouth full of cereal. His voice always carried, even when he was trying to be quiet. In a stage whisper, he continued, "I haven't even started yet. Don't tell anyone."

Adam's mumbled reply was too quiet for Declan to hear, but Matthew's response wasn't. "You would? Gee, thanks, I completely forgot what we were learning so that would help."

Matthew left the room and came back with his calculus textbook, notebook, calculator, and pencil case. Declan narrowed his gaze and set his phone down in his lap. Interesting.

Adam Parrish seemed to be the type of person who would never do anything for free. What does he get out of helping Matthew? Points with Ronan? The better question to be asking is what does Adam get from dating Ronan? A lot. Too much. Could he be trusted? Where will Ronan end up when Adam inevitably gets whatever he needs and wants from him? Will Declan be able to pick up the pieces?

Declan needed leverage in case it came to that, but he knew very little that mattered to Adam. His family was out of the picture, Declan knew that after Ronan came to blows with Robert Parrish (and Declan's subsequent research into the emancipation case). Adam cared about Aglionby, but with the rate he was going, he'd easily make valedictorian. He cared about school; Declan heard a rumor that he applied to four ivy league schools, but he thought the number was a bit low.

Adam cared about Ronan. Or at least it seemed that way.

When Ronan came through the mudroom door into the kitchen after his morning chores, boots kicked off, mud up his forearms, his grin was shocking and foreign to Declan. His happiness was apparent and genuine and Declan could hardly remember a time after their dad passed that he saw Ronan smile like that. Ronan moved to the other side of the room and Declan couldn't see him, but he could hear the sink running as Ronan washed up before coming around to stand across from Matthew and Adam.

Adam said something too quiet for Declan to make out, and Ronan flipped him off, but Matthew laughed. Declan quickly grabbed his phone as Ronan started walking toward the door. "-fucking nerds, I'm going to shower and then make some pancakes, sound good?"

"Ooh, chocolate chip, please!" Matthew called.

Ronan stopped in the doorway of the living room, eyeing Declan for a second. Declan didn't look up, feigning focus, losing sanity. "Pancakes good with you?"

"Hm?" Declan was going to crack Adam Parrish. "Yeah, sure."

"Ooh-kay," Ronan said slowly as if Declan was the one being weird and not everyone else in this godforsaken house.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Danny Phantom Gets Summoned Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Ringback by kelpeigh (chitaqua) - Not Rated

“I think we’re on hold.” a soft voice hedges. Four hoods twist as the group looks to their youngest member. She continues, “This is just a ringback tone. Don’t you have one, Steph— uh, Shadowlux?” “You’re right.” The cloaked man next to her answers. “We’re totally on hold.” - A summoning au where Danny can only be summoned as Phantom, and anyone who tries when he's human has to wait until he happens to go ghost again.

Is This Just A Thing that Girls Do? by newdog14 - Rated T

“Yeah, and about that,” The Ghost King said, pinching the bridge of nose in frustration. “You found an archaic book of magic with a summoning spell for the Ghost King, who you believed to be evil, and then you used said spell to bring me here and bind me to answer questions, and you did this so you could ask me about a middle schooler’s crush?” “We also want to know what the secret of life is,” Cori said, crossing her arms defensively. “42,” he answered without hesitation.

after school summons by blueh - Rated T

"So this is the fabled Ghost King," the man says like he expected better. Danny feels he should almost be offended if it isn't for the tiny detail that these cultists—who summoned him by using salt and goat bones—assume he is the ghost king. "…Did you seriously confuse me with Pariah Dark?" The man pauses. "Pariah Dark?" "Yes! He's like fifteen feet tall, has a huge sword, is a pain in the ass, and has, like, an entire ghost army. I have, I dunno, pre-calc homework in my bag. We are not the same." Or: Danny accidentally gets summoned. He’s not happy about it.

AfterSchool Special: Psst! Summoners After You! by GothMoth - Rated G

How to piss off that weird kid at school: very rudely summon him, bombard him with questions like this is his fault, tell him he’d look better dead, and use this as an excuse to give him homework

Summoning by DP_Marvel94 - Rated T

When Jack and Maddie Fenton tried to summon the King of All Ghosts, the last thing they expected was the sudden appearance of a very familiar, very human boy wearing spaceship pajamas and with a toothbrush halfway to his mouth.

11:30 on a Tuesday by piece_of_pierce - Not Rated

Danny is home from school, recovering from a bad fight, and just trying to let himself heal. Then, Danny is standing in his classroom, in a summoning circle, in his PJ's. AKA: Why is Danny's class unsupervised and trying to summon a ghost at 11:30 on a Tuesday? Danny doesn't even care anymore.

Summoned To A Rude Awakening by Kimcat - Rated G

Dash tries to summon Phantom, it doesn't go very well. Danny just wants to sleep after everything hes been through.

[sadie-bug345]

the gang as classes i’m taking this year 🤓☝️

is this a way for me to flex my fucked schedule? yes.

ponyboy:

AP Lit

ARE WE SURPRISED

likeeeee this is pony to a T

we’re currently reading the crucible (my school starts HELLA early in the year)

and pony is surprisingly vibing w the salem witch trials

a good amount of homework for this class, but since the majority is reading pony’s got that down

he does get super bored when they’re just taking notes though like his imagination just runs free

johnny:

APUSH ?? 🧍‍♀️

uhhh this was one i don’t really think would fit johnny but i only have 6 classes and calling “lunch” a class is reserved for steve

honestly this class is super quiet except the table i sit at with my friends so i think if johnny was with the gang (PRETEND THEY ALL GO TO SCHOOL OKAY🤨) or at least ponyboy he’d have a good old time

lots and lots and lots of notes but johnny kinda likes just independent work like that ykwim

group projects with random people suck the SOUL OUTTA HIM

darry:

sports med 2 ⚽️🏀🏈⚾️🥎‼️

darry would love this class at first solely cause there’s the word “sports” in it

this class has like 15 people in it, most are kinda jerks but he gets through it

when it comes to helping out the athletic trainer on game days after school, darry is THERE and he’s PREPARED

years of momming around teenage boys has prepared him to….tape some random kids wrist i guess

dally:

anatomy and physiology 🧍‍♀️☝️

HEAR ME OUT

first of all, i’d love to study human anatomy w him any day of the week💀🥰🤭😏😼

SECOND OF ALL, i think bros psychopathic tendencies would come out during dissection labs /j

in all seriousness though i feel like he’d be totally fearless when doing those typa labs like everyone’s kinda grossed out and scared (irl we gotta dissect a RABBIT😭🫢) and dally’s just like

”idk what yall are on about, mannn🙄”

also it’s a notoriously easy class at my school so that’s up dally’s lane for sure

two-bit:

pre calc🫢

NOW HEAR ME OUT AGAIN

the only reason i say this is because this year we got a new teacher to teach my pre calc class and she’s from some eastern european country and has an accent just like Grus from despicable me😭😭😭and that class is SO QUIET

and that’s kinda where two shines like he’ll yell out so much random shit in that class and it’s so hilarious to…

pretty much only his friends 🧍‍♀️ but that’s kinda the fun part though

lots of homework but you’re delusional if you think two-bits gonna actually do that

soda:

photo 2

the majority of the time spent in this class is just messing around on your computer which soda loves

like bro will find the most outta pocket and weird stuff to photograph

but also he gets real artsy with it sometimes just cause he’s messing around

surprisingly it turns out super good sometimes

he’s the king in general of being just as shocked as anyone that hes succeeding as a whole

steve:

LUNCH

bro struggles through the entire day just for these 20 minutes istg

like bro endures so much in classes he doesn’t understand with people he doesn’t like just for those moments😭😭

honestly that’s me during seasonal depression winter

hes the type to stop everyone during lunch and just rant about all the weird shit that happened throughout that day

like he’s def the type to see someone get jumped or do something weird in class and think

”man i gotta tell the gang about this at lunch”

actually doesn’t mind school food…😭

OK IDRK WHAT THIS WAS THIS KINDA SUCKED BUT ANYWAYS MY INBOX IS OPEN BYEEEEE🥰🥰

[meanwhileinstasiville]

The metaphorical writing is on the wall or; what kind of experience you can buy for a dollar

You know, I used to sleep above the bridge between two towns, because of the view and the vantage point more than say, security. After a short (very short time, I might add) time of stopping there, some graffiti artists decided in their infinite wisdom to draw a blue beady eyed guy staring at the very spot I was sleeping.

An adult behavior this isn't, but it is the work of very dangerous people.

And I don't know how best to explain how this stuff goes to a broad audience. When I was in school, the valedictorians took classes with low homework loads; because they had no more intention of doing it than anyone else. So to academic admins it was a distinction without a difference whether "kids were struggling" or "kids have no intention of doing homework". It's not that they were "gaming the system" either; kids took whatever classes they academically placed into, and then educators were forced to grade on a continuum whereby finished a third of the book of classwork was equivalent annually to finished a half or three quarters or even less than a third.

So they'd promoted the students to what real life would call their level of incompetence. Which kids graduate to college, graduate to the workforce. I'm from an era of the 1980s and also a community where people were lined out as children for careers commensurate with their respective wealth and subseque class privilege. Grades and discipline not that big of a thing, because it was Reagan and then Bush if you happened to start school in the late 80s.

A third of algebra, and then a third of trig, of calc, and so on. As a "life sciences" guy, I tried to take the classes that were hard in case I happened to need to know any of the stuff that I was supposed to be learning.(And my "graffiti" example, was brought to me by people who gamed the system).

It's not that it's based on anything concrete (even though it was an exposed face of a bridge), in terms of reasoning, but a function of delegation when it's your choice regardless of any thinking you might have put into it. Because that's what you become when you succeed coming from the eighties. So I can have the adult version of "I can get the truant officer to make you talk to me when I want attention!" which is nothing new to me, but the community as a whole here is not going to do well by it.

We have an unsolved unsolvable as yet murder to show for this stuff to; "who shot mr burns" seems to be the go-to even for the fbi. Also completely ignoring that you can't simply kill someone in broad daylight where nobody sees something, and with no planning, and with no consulting a larger group, specifically because in that last case; there's no evidence to go with no one seeing anything. Where it becomes like a stabbing on the subway crowded with people who "saw nothing". Very much alike "did they complete calculus?" and they got a passing grade throughout the year, but nowhere near a complete course.

So to answer "how does THAT make you feel?!!" Including the coopers: this is exactly the same shit I saw when I was a little kid. Around Oregon, seems nothing has changed since then.

Even with supposed "jump scare" stuff to open my day. No more receptive to it than I ever was, and I've been one of those "low latent inhibition" guys since about the time I got into a car crash. So none of this is affecting my opinion on anything.

[maxinaptak]

(AoT/SNK) Reluctant Hero: Levi X Abused!Reader

You looked around nervously and pulled your sweater sleeve down farther as you walked into the school building. You didn’t want anyone to see the new bruises on your arms, let alone on your neck. You hoped the turtleneck sweater would hide them. You knew the sweater looked suspicious since it was late spring, borderline early summer, and the temperatures called for lighter clothing, but you really had no choice. You tugged the neck up higher and scurried off to your locker, hoping everyone would ignore you like they normally did.

“Hey ________, what’s with the sweater,” your best friend Max asked, scaring you near shitless, “Isn’t it a little warm?”

“Ah…,” you muttered, panicking slightly, trying to come up with an excuse, “I’m not warm at all! You know me, I’m a fucking ice cube, I’m cold all the time!”

You cringed internally, knowing it sounded like a terrible excuse, but you prayed to whatever god there was out there that she bought it. You breathed a silent sigh of relief when she laughed.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She said, smiling.

You grabbed your books and shoved them into your backpack. You slung it over your shoulder and winced in pain as it hit a particularly nasty bruise on your back.

Max looked at you concerned and asked, “Hey, are you ok?”

You quickly nodded your head and said, “Yeah, I’m fine! I just hurt my back last night trying to move my couch.”

“Why were you moving your couch?” She asked, confused.

You racked your brain for any lie possible and quickly spewed, “I was trying to clean under it.”

She seemed to buy it and you breathed another quiet sigh of relief. You finally bid your friend goodbye and hurried to your first hour class, pre-calculus. You immediately sat in your seat and took your book and notebook out, getting prepared for class. Class began and you wrote down everything your teacher did exactly as she did, but you still didn’t understand it. When you finished the notes, she began to hand back your last test. You got nervous, knowing that you didn’t do very well. When she placed it on your desk, it was upside down, and she gave you a sad look. She continued on down the rows and you sighed, flipping the test over, groaning quietly at the red “f” at the top. Next to it, also written in red letters, was a note that said, ‘See me at the end of class please – Mrs. Palmer’. You sighed again and looked up, only to have your (e/c) eyes lock with steely grey irises.

‘Shit!’ You thought, blushing lightly and looking away from him.

His name was Levi Ackerman, a fellow senior at Shiganshina High, and he was a student aid for Mrs. Palmer first hour. You’d known Levi since you were in fourth grade when he had moved from France to Shiganshina. You were never friends, but he had been in both your fourth and fifth grade classes and several classes after that in middle and high school. You’d learned a little bit about the boy by watching him from afar, but you had never talked to him more than just a passing encounter during class about an assignment. You’d heard from other people that he was a very unpleasant person, but from the few brief encounters you had with him he didn’t seem that bad.

“Alright, that’s all for today,” Mrs. Palmer said, snapping you out of your thoughts, “Either review your test or start on your homework.”

You chewed your lip as you rose from your seat, beginning to walk towards Mrs. Palmer’s desk. You eventually came to a stop before her desk and played with the end of your sweater, dreading what she was going to say.

“________, do you know that you’re failing?” She asked quietly so that only you could hear her.

You swallowed and nodded almost guiltily.

“Why is that?” She continued.

“I just don’t understand the stuff…,” you muttered, looking down, “I write down the notes exactly how you write them, but I just don’t understand how to do it….”

She frowned and said, “That’s what I thought. Would it help if you had a tutor?”

You thought for a moment and nodded. Your teacher nodded as well and motioned someone behind you over. When that someone stopped beside her, you looked at them and resisted the urge to gasp. It was Levi.

“From now on I’m going to have Levi tutor you,” she said, gesturing to the short male with her hand, “He’s amazingly good at math and he’s tutored many students before so I’m sure he can help you.”

You nodded and looked at him shyly.

“Do you have a lunch or a free hour?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Um, both, actually…,” you said, voice shaky, “I have lunch fourth hour and IA eighth hour.”

“Alright,” he sighed, nodding, “I’ve got lunch fourth hour and I student aid for Mrs. Palmer again eighth hour for pre-calc so were meeting both those times, got it?”

You quickly nodded.

“I’ll find you at lunch, so just sit where you normally do.” He said, picking his bag up from the floor.

You nodded again. The bell rang and he nodded at you before walking past you and leaving the room. You quickly gathered your things and made your way to your AP psychology class. You took your seat next to your best friend and stared off into space.

“Hey,” Max said, snapping her fingers in front of your face, startling you, “Earth to ________! What’s up with you today?”

“Well, I wasn’t feeling the greatest this morning, but then last hour I found out that I’m going to be getting tutored twice a day by Levi Ackerman.” You said, shaking your head.

“Wait, you’re getting tutored by Mr. Forever-Pissed-Off-With-A-Stick-Up-His-Ass?!” Max asked, surprised.

“Oh come on,” you said, rolling your eyes, “He’s not that bad.”

“You’ve never seen him mad then.” Max said, shuddering.

You shook your head and tried to pay attention to your psych teacher.

You grabbed you lunch and sat down at your normal table, across from Max.

“Why are you over there?” She asked.

“Cause I’ve gotta get tutored.” You answered, pulling your book and notebook out, getting ready for number hell.

A minute later, a book and a tray were placed beside yours and a body settled onto the bench next to you.

“Alright brat, you ready for this?” Levi asked, cracking his knuckles.

You flinched at the sound and began to shake.

“U-uh, excuse me…!” You said, jumping up and running from the table, heading towards the bathroom.

Levi watched ________ run off with confused grey eyes. The girl looked terrified. He turned his perplexed orbs to her best friend, hoping she could shed some light on the situation.

“Is she alright?” He asked.

Max sighed and said, “She does that sometimes. She’ll randomly cringe and suddenly run off, most times to the bathroom. I feel like it’s got something to do with hearing or seeing something but I can’t figure it out.”

The girl looked worried about her friend and Levi wanted to figured it out as well. He wondered if it was something he had done or said. He frowned and looked in the direction that ________ had run off and saw that she was coming back.

You quickly pulled yourself together and left the bathroom. You headed back to the table, an embarrassed blush coming to your cheeks as you saw Levi looking at you.

“Sorry,” You said quietly, pulling on your sleeves, “I get these little nauseous spells and I tend to run away when they happen… you know, just in case….”

You hoped the lie sounded believable, because if they didn’t buy it you were in big trouble. Luckily they both nodded and Levi dove right into the tutoring lesson. Mrs. Palmer had given him all the things that you’d need to go over and he luckily started at the beginning. You didn’t get to go through much, but what you did get through you finally understood.

“Alright, so eighth hour, just go to Mrs. Palmer’s room and we’ll pick up where we left off, alright?” Levi said, packing his things up.

You nodded and did the same, shoving you book in your bag. You slung it over your shoulder and flinched again as it came in contact with the same bruise from that morning. What you didn’t know was that it didn’t go unnoticed by both Levi and Max, who shared a worried look.

Eighth hour you headed to Mrs. Palmer’s room, your pre-calc book in hand. It was an odd feeling but you accepted it. When you reached the room, you were relieved to see that Levi was already there.

“Back here,” he said, leading you to a table in the back of the room, “We’ll be going over things back here while she teaches and she’ll probably drop in and check up on us at some point knowing her.”

You giggled slightly, knowing he was right. You sat down and began studying again. Levi really was a good tutor because you were picking the material up really fast now. Soon the bell rang, signaling that you were released from prison. You both let out a breath and began to slowly pack up your stuff.

“Thank you for tutoring me…,” you said softly, causing Levi to pause in his movements, “I know Mrs. Palmer probably asked you to do it, but still, it’s really helping me already so… thanks….”

“Actually,” he said, beginning to put his stuff away again, “I offered to do it.”

“What?!” You said, looking at him in surprise.

“She was grading tests and she started talking about how she was sad about a student not doing well and she started ranting to me, as she often does, and after she was finished, I offered to tutor you.” He said, looking at you.

You blushed lightly and looked back down at your stuff, shoving the last thing in your bag.

“Well, thank you….” You said.

He nodded and you both stood. You excited the classroom and parted ways with a quick goodbye. You stopped by your locker to drop off a few things before leaving the school. You groaned loudly when you reached the door and saw the light sprinkle turn into a downpour. You sighed and were about to accept your fate when a voice sounded from behind you.

“Are you walking home ________?”

You turned around with a start and saw Levi standing there, backpack over one shoulder, umbrella in one hand, and car keys in the other.

You looked back out the door for a second before returning your gaze to the male and answering.

“I have to,” you said, your shoulders slumping slightly, “I don’t have a car….”

He frowned and shook his head.

“I’m not letting you walk home in this kind of weather,” he said, walking up to you, “I may be an asshole, but I'm not that much of an asshole.”

You opened your mouth to argue but a clap of thunder sounded, cutting you off. You flinched at the loud sound and began to shake. You nodded your head, agreeing to letting him drive you home. He walked to the doors, you right behind him, and opened one. He opened the umbrella and stepped outside. He grabbed your backpack and pulled you out and under the umbrella with him, keeping his arm around your shoulders. He led you through the parking lot to his truck and unlocked the doors. He opened the passenger side door and helped you into the truck before closing the door and getting in himself. He tossed the wet umbrella into the backseat and started the truck.

“Where do you live?” He asked.

You swallowed hard and told him where you lived. He looked at you with a strange look in his eyes but began driving anyway. You looked down at your hands shyly. You didn’t want him to know you lived in the really nice neighborhood. When he pulled up to your house, you blushed more. It was really big.

“Um…,” you muttered, looking at him shyly, “Thanks for driving me home Levi….”

“Yeah, anytime.” He said, a strange look in his eyes.

You grabbed your bag and quickly jumped out of the truck, running into your house. You watched through the window as he pulled away and sighed. You trudged up the stairs to your room. You entered the barely furnished room and set your bag down on the floor. You locked your door and sat on your bed, bringing your knees to your chest. You reached over to your bedside table and picked up the framed picture that was set there. You looked at it and felt tears roll down your face. It was a picture of your family from when you were little. Your mother was holding you and your two older brothers were standing beside her, hugging you two, their heads on her shoulders. Your father wasn’t in the picture since he was the one who took it, but it was all for the best since you hated the man. You hated him because he didn’t even want you. He had never wanted you. He’d only wanted sons. The only reason you were born was because your mother wanted you. She loved you with all her heart and you shared the same adoration. But then she was taken from you when you were six. She had been hit crossing the street while she was out shopping one day and died before the paramedics even arrived.

“I miss you mom….” You whispered, letting more tears flow.

Your phone rang and you sniffled, wiping your eyes. You grabbed your (f/c) phone and looked at the caller ID. You saw that it was your older brother Mason and smiled slightly.

“Hi Mason.” You said, voice still shaky.

“________,” he said, sounding concerned, “What’s wrong? You sound off.”

“Nothing. I'm fine, really. I was just looking at the picture of me, you, Joshua, and mom and got a little sad, that’s all.” You said, smiling to yourself.

“Ok, well as long as that’s all that it is. Don’t be afraid to tell me if there is something though. Cause I’ll cut a bitch, and you know it.” He said.

You giggled and said, “Yeah, I know.”

He chuckled and said, “So how’ve you been little one?”

“Holding on.”

“School kicking your ass?”

“Yeah….” You trailed off a bit.

Your brother laughed and asked a few more questions before ending the call. It was hard having twin older brothers who were ten years older than you. You had a great relationship with them but they didn’t know what was happening with your father.

“________!”

Speaking of your father….

You flinched at the yell you heard and knew you’d be getting a few new bruises.

It’d been two weeks since Levi started tutoring you and since you got a few pretty new bruises on your back, arms, and neck from him. It was beginning to get too warm for long sleeve sweaters, so you were wearing a tank top under and light hoodie, trying to hide as much of the bruising as possible. Levi also started driving you home every day, insisting that you shouldn’t have to walk if he could drive you. When you got into the truck, you dropped your phone, so you leaned over to grab it. You weren’t careful when you leaned though, and Levi got an eyeful of bruising on your neck and chest.

“Shit ________,” he said, staring at you, wide eyed, “What happened to you?!”

You looked at him confused before realizing what had happened. You blushed and pulled you hoodie around you tighter, trying to cover the bruising. You began to shake, fear coursing through your veins at what was to come.

“________, did someone hurt you?” Levi asked softly, startling you.

You’d never heard Levi use that tone of voice before. It almost sounded like he was talking to a frightened small animal. Which, in some respects, was what he was doing, but still. You swallowed hard and stared at him, (e/c) locked with steel. You contemplated telling him or not. No one knew what was going on, not even Max.

“________...,” Levi’s soft voice brought your full attention back to him, “Please, tell me what’s going on….”

You broke. Tears began to form in your eyes and chocked sobs began to escape your throat against your will. Levi quickly, but gently, pulled you against him and let you sob into his chest. After some time had passed, you finally calmed down enough to speak.

“My father….” You whispered, voice hoarse.

“What?!” Levi uttered, shocked.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and rested your head against his chest before elaborating.

“My father has been abusing me since I was six,” you said, sniffling, “It wasn’t as bad when I was little because my brothers were still at home so he couldn’t really do much, but then they went to college when I was eight. That’s when it started to get bad.”

“Why would he do this to you?” Levi asked.

You smiled bitter sweetly and said, “He never wanted me. He only wanted sons, but my mother wanted me. But she died when I was six, so I lost my only real protection. Then when my brothers left, I was left completely defenseless.”

Levi was quiet and you looked up at him. His jaw was clenched and he looked angry.

“Levi…?” You said quietly, putting your hand on his chest.

He looked down at you and said, “When would your dad be home?”

You were confused but answered him anyway.

“He won’t be home until later… why?” You said.

“Because you’re going to go grab a bag of your stuff, and then you’re coming to live with me,” he said, his arms tightening around you, “No arguments. I'm not going to let that bastard hurt you anymore.”

You stared at him with wide (e/c) irises and he suddenly began to blur. You burred your face in his chest and began to cry again.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered into your (h/c) hair, “I promise….”

“Thank you…!” You cried, nuzzling into his chest.

You sat there for a little while longer before heading to your house. You threw what little belongings you had into a bag and left with Levi. He drove you to his apartment and he settled you into the spare room he had.

“Why do you live alone?” You asked, looking at him as you sat on the couch.

“My parents decided that they wanted to go back to France, but I didn’t want to leave,” he said, bring one knee up to his chest, “I was already eighteen at the time so they decided to get me an apartment so I could finish out high school and figure out what I want to do with my life.”

You looked at him and thought he looked a bit sad. You smiled faintly and leaned your head on his shoulder. He rested his on top of yours and you just sat there in a comfortable silence until you both decided it was time to turn in for the night.

“If you need me for what ever reason, just come in,” he said, leaning on the doorframe to his room, “Chances are, I might still be awake. I don’t sleep very well most nights so it won’t be any trouble.”

You nodded and smiled at him before going into your own room. You changed into your pajamas and crawled into bed. You closed your eyes and were able to fall asleep fairly quickly.

Your eyes shot open and you sat up in bad, your breathing ragged. You took a shaky deep breath and closed your eyes, only to gasp and quickly open them. All you saw was his face when you closed your eyes. You took another deep breath before getting out of bed and heading across the hall. You quietly opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind you as quietly as possible.

“________?” Levi asked, sitting up slightly.

It looked like he had been awake, so you didn’t feel that bad about coming to him. You walked over to his bed and sat on the edge. He sat up all the way and put a hand on your shoulder. As soon as he did, you lunged at him and buried you face in his neck, your body shaking from the fear.

“Nightmare?” He asked softly, stroking your slightly messy hair.

You nodded and shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable. He pulled you down to lay beside him and cuddled your shaking body against his, trying to take your fear away. No matter what he did however, your body wouldn’t stop trembling. So he gently took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted your face upwards to face him.

“I told you that I would protect you didn’t I?” He whispered, slowly leaning closer.

When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance between your lips and kissed you. You kissed him back after the initial shock wore off. He pulled back after a few seconds and rested his forehead against yours.

“That felt good….” He muttered, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips, tickling yours.

“Yeah….” You breathed your agreement.

“Be my girl?” He asked quietly.

You smiled and kissed him again.

“I don’t think it’s even a question….” You said, kissing him again.

He chuckled and nipped your lip, kissing you deeper this time. He was defiantly not letting anything or anyone hurt you now.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Joshua ____(l/n)____?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’ll explain in a minute. First let me get your brother on the line as well.”

“Hello?”

“Mason ____(l/n)____?”

“Yes?”

“Ok, good. Now that I have you both, my name is Levi Ackerman. I'm your sister’s boyfriend. We recently got together, she hasn’t been hiding it from you. But that’s beside the point. The reason I called you both is because I need your help. ________ is currently living with me because your father has been abusing her. I have pictures of the bruises he left even.”

“He what?!”

“That bastard! I knew something was wrong when I’d call and she’d be crying!”

“Like I said, I need your help. I know it’s short notice, but if you could make it out here within the next few days, I want to get him where he belongs.”

“I’ll be on the next flight there.”

“I’m in the car in an hour.”

“See you soon.”

You heard a knock on the door and got up to answer it.

“Joshua, Mason?!” You exclaimed, extremely confused.

They both enveloped you in a hug together, confusing you even further.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, hugging them back.

“I called them.” Levi said from behind you.

“What?” You were now completely confused.

“We’re putting that basted where he belongs,” Mason said, clearly upset, “Why did you never tell us?!”

Your eyes widened and you turned to Levi.

“You told them?!” You asked.

He nodded and said, “I need their help to put him where he belongs to make sure you’re truly safe.”

You sighed and sat down on the couch. You listened to them plan and scheme about how to get your father arrested. You rolled your eyes and finally spoke up.

“How about we just go file a report with the police,” you said, looking at them, “We’ve got plenty of pictures of the bruises and I’ve got some scars I can show them.”

They looked at each other and seemed to agree. So they took you down to the station and you did just that. And they arrested your father. You wouldn’t have to deal with him for a very, very long time.

It’s been a few months since all the excitement of getting your father arrested. You and Levi graduated along with your friends. And speaking of your friends, you and Levi set up Max and one of Levi’s friends Mike, so they were having their own summer adventure. But as for you and Levi, you were traveling around Europe together for the summer. And in the fall, you’d both be starting at a university in France.

“Oi, brat, why are you staring out the window?” Levi asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked at him and smiled. You went over to him and startled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Because I had some stuff on my mind,” you said, kissing his neck, “But, I think I know something else that’s on my mind now.”

Levi smirked and flipped you over so he was hovering over you.

“Great idea.” He said, nipping at your neck, trailing his tongue lower.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled.

“I love you ________....” Levi murmured against your chest, placing a kiss to your heart.

“I love you too Levi….”

[bbyboibinnie]

two of us

synopsis: love is hard to come by, especially when the boy you’ve been pining over is already taken. pairing: reader x jisung  genre: fluff, angst, romance, college au  warning: explicit language/cursing wc: 2.8k

one

It was halfway through your senior year in high school when you two had met. This was unexpected to say the least because it was the last semester of your last year; you had no intentions of making any new friends, considering you already had a handful of people you were close with and stuck by for the last three years. It was Chan that introduced you to him. You had known Chan for awhile–he was your lab partner for two consecutive years now–and although you considered him as a friend, you had never actually hung out outside of school before, unless it was for a group project of course. However, one day he had invited you to his birthday celebration and that was the day when you met his other friends, one of them being Jisung. 

“Woah, slow down there.” His word caught you by surprise as you were stuffing cupcakes in your mouth. You didn’t really know any of Chan’s friends at the time and socializing with new people didn’t exactly come by easily for you, so you had opted to linger around the snack table instead. 

Hastily dusting the crumbs off your face, you introduced yourself, “Oh, hey. My name is y/n.”

“I’m Jisung. I think we have calculus together right?” You looked at him closely; with black hair, deep brown eyes, and round cheeks you couldn’t lie–he was pretty cute, but you shook your head in response as you didn’t recognize him.

“Ya, Jisung! Come help me set up the cake!” Another one of the boys had called out, cutting your conversation with him short.

“Keep an eye out for me in calc.” He said as he was dragged away into the kitchen.

two

Sure enough, he was in the same math class as you. Honestly, besides your best friend in that period, you really didn’t pay attention to the other people. After all, the class was impacted and half of them were underclassmen so why bother remembering all the names and faces? 

It was the day after the party and you looked around at everyone in the class; it only took you a moment before you spotted him in a seat two rows over. The lecture hadn’t started yet so he was talking to his friends. You didn’t feel the need to get up to go over and spark a conversation or anything, but when you two made eye contact, you gave him a quick smile before turning back to face the front board. 

For a while, you two would occasionally spare glances at each other and wave or smile if you locked eyes, but there was nothing more. It wasn’t until after the latest exam when he approached you again.

“Hey, how’d you think you did?” He asked, waiting as you finished packing up your belongings. 

“Could’ve done better. What about you?” You made your way to the door and he followed suit.

“Just hoping for that passing grade. Anyway, Chan and I were going to meet up to grab food after class today, wanna come?” You debated going with them for a second but ended up agreeing anyways. 

You didn’t know what to make of Jisung at first, considering you had only exchanged a few words, but after hanging with him, even if it was just for a few hours, you found him to be quite likable. 

From then on, he stuck around and you didn’t mind, in fact, perhaps you enjoyed his presence a lot more than you were willing to admit. 

three 

High school came and went but you were ready to face the new challenges and opportunities that college presented. Most of your other friends had been accepted to places further away, but you had settled for community for the time being. For the most part, you were an independent person; therefore, you tried to not be clingy when your friends left to reach their own goals–you’d see them soon enough again–but you had been worried about starting this whole new chapter of your life alone, luckily for you, someone by the name of Han Jisung had enrolled right alongside you.

As days went by, you two were seen together more and more. Of course he met new people, and so did you, but it was always nice to have someone familiar to go back to and for you, that familiar face was Jisung, and for him, that person was you. 

Your majors were completely different and so were your classes, but you still spent time with him studying, ranting about professors, and passing out in each other’s rooms after staying up to finish assignments. 

“Hey, Jisung,” you whispered, trying to not startle him awake, “it’s almost midnight. You should probably head back to your place before it gets too late.” He was slumped over your desk, fingers lifelessly placed atop the keyboard of his laptop, already drifting into a deeper state of sleep. “Jisung.” You tried again, only to have him groan in response. Shaking your head, you draped a throw blanket over his figure before returning to your workload. 

It had gone on like this for weeks, months, nearly a year. One night he’d sleep over at your place and the next you’d be at his. Both of you had been accustomed to this routine now and you thought nothing of it, however, the more time you spent with him, the more you found things to like about him, and that’s what you were afraid of in the beginning–falling for him.

four 

You were never the type to fall head over heels for anyone, all throughout elementary, middle, and high school, you only had occasional crushes but nothing significant. Yet,

there was something about him that you couldn’t shake off. Maybe it was the way he always made stupid jokes that you couldn’t help but laugh at, or perhaps it was the way he played his guitar and share the new songs he wrote with you first before anyone else got to hear them. It was the smile that reached his eyes and the way he knew you so well, like the back of his hand. It was everything. 

You didn’t expect anything more out of the platonic relationship, but you couldn’t just get rid of the feelings on demand, so you had to let them settle and hope that they’d go away eventually, of course that didn’t work. 

five

Just because you saw Jisung differently, didn’t mean he would have the same outlook on you. 

“What do you think would make a good first date?” Jisung had asked casually over the counter. You were currently on shift at the local boba shop and Jisung often tagged along; typically he just sat there and did his homework as he waited, but on days where store traffic was low, he would ease your boredom by talking aimlessly. This particular caught you off guard though.

“Um, I’m not sure. Why do you ask?” You said, trying to sound casual, while restocking the ingredients.

“Well, I finally managed to receive a ‘yes’ after I asked someone out earlier today.” He said, smiling to himself in satisfaction. You were shocked, but at the same time, not at all. During the twelve months or so that you’ve known him, relationships weren’t a common topic of discussion. Yes, it did come up a few times but college and just life in general was already too time consuming so you didn’t bother with relationships, and neither did he.

“Wow, I’m impressed Jisung. I didn’t think anyone would fall for a clown like you.” You teased him, hoping your disappointment wasn’t showing. You knew that it was a platonic relationship and had set no expectations, yet you still felt a wave of sadness wash over.

“Oh, haha. Seriously though, I only prepared on how to ask them out, but I didn’t think past that because I wasn’t sure I’d even make it this far.”

“In that case, why don’t you consider what the person likes and try to set up something that you both would enjoy? Personally, I don’t think you could go wrong with arcade, pizza, and boba though. I could even hook you up with a discount on the boba.” You said jokingly in an attempt to lift your mood up. 

“What would I do without you? You better keep your word about that discount though. Oh shit, I gotta head back and finish my essay, see ya y/n. Also, text me when you get back to your place!” He shouted the last part as he was in the midst of exiting and the door jingled as it shut behind him. 

six

So his date had gone well and now his status went from ‘single’ to ‘taken’ while you were still struggling to manage your unrequited feelings. You had accepted the situation for what it was but that didn’t make it any easier. 

Naturally as he began to split his time between his new relationship and you, the time you spent with him dwindled down. Weekly study sessions became bi-weekly, which turned into monthly events. You didn’t hold this against him though, you were glad he found someone to connect with. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late… again.” Jisung said sheepishly as he entered your room, with a backpack slung over his shoulders, messy hair, and pink marks peeking out from under his t-shirt. You were flustered at the sight, knowing that he had just come back from being with his significant other, doing who knows what. 

“Uh, it’s okay. Just–let’s just get to studying.” You preoccupied yourself with your various notes and textbooks and tried you best not to be distracted. Suddenly, somewhere along the line, tension began to build. Maybe you were just imagining it but something had shifted between you and Jisung these days, and it gave you a sense of hopelessness because there was nothing you could do about it.

seven

More time had passed and your friendship was still afloat, but it definitely wasn’t the same as before. It seems like everything has its peak and you two have surpassed that; what goes up must come down, so it was all downhill from there. 

As his relationship became more unstable and doubts, he slowly began to make his way back to you. You should’ve been happy, even elated at this fact, but you weren’t. 

“I don’t know what happened. One minute we were fine and the next we were arguing. It’s like I am dating a different person now.” He expressed to you, once again at the boba shop you were still working at. It had actually been awhile since he came.

“Mmhhm.” You nodded wordlessly as you continued to spray down the tables with disinfectants.

“The argument was so petty, I should’ve known better than to engage in it.” The rant continued on and on and you had mindlessly agreed with everything he said, until he noticed you weren’t even paying attention.

“Y/n, are you even listening to me?” 

“Yup.”

“Okay, then will you give me your entire life savings?”

“Yes.”

“Y/n!” He shouted, getting up from his seat to stand directly in front of you on the other side of the counter. His loud voice startled you and you looked up, only to face a boy who was seething in anger. “Why are you blatantly ignoring me? I’m trying to rant to you and you’re not even helping.”

That was the last straw. 

“Listen, don’t come in here asking me to be your guidance counselor after cancelling our plans on dozens of occasions. Also, how could you really expect me to give you my time when you can’t even spare me a minute on any other day. You’ve been a real jerk lately and you haven’t even noticed it! I can’t believe I ever liked someone like you!” The indirect confession left your mouth before you could stop yourself, and he stood there absolutely dumbfounded. 

eight 

 That night, you immediately wanted to hide in the back of the store and hope whatever happened never happened, but you were tired of miscommunication.

“You like me?” Between the two of you, he was the one who had the courage to break the silence.

“Liked. I liked you. Past tense.”

“Do you still like me? Present tense.” 

“No, I don’t–or maybe. I don’t know right now.” You had mentally convinced yourself that you were over him, but trying to admit it out loud proved otherwise. 

“Y/n, I–” He started but you cut him off before he could finish.

“Maybe you should just go home now. I need some time to think.” He had hesitated for a moment, but eventually, he respected your wishes. 

nine

It had been over a week, nearing two weeks, since you’ve talked to him. You already had so much on your plate with finals coming around and constantly having to work, so this was not something you wanted to deal with now, or ever actually. But closure was necessary, for you and for him, so you decided that once finals were over, you’d set things straight.

Grabbing the phone off your nightstand, scrolled through your contacts to find his name.

(11:57 PM ) 

[ you ]  hey, we should talk after finals r over

You sent the text, hoping he’d want closure as well, but minutes passed there was no response. Just when you were about to sleep, your phone vibrated.

(12:05 AM)

[ jisung ] okay, see u after finals then. gn 

ten 

You had just gotten out of your last class of the day when he came into view. Frankly, you hadn’t expected to meet up with him until later on in the day, but that was your own mistake for not specifying when or where to meet in the text. Although this had slightly caught you off guard, you couldn’t put this off forever so you made your way towards him.

It was a relatively cold day; he stood there bundled up in his hoodie and a beanie atop which tamed his hair from the strong winds. 

“Hey.” You said as you stood face to face with him.

“Hey, it’s been awhile.” He responded, eyes softening when he saw you. 

* * * 

Together, you ended up walking back to his place to talk. Nothing much was said during the trip back, besides the occasional polite small talk like “how have you been?” and “how were finals?” 

When he opened his door, you entered wearily; although you had visited his place numerous times in the past, the last time you actually came by was months ago so it felt odd to be back to place so familiar, yet foreign again. 

You were grateful for the fact that it was so warm in his apartment because the weather outside had left your body feeling numb. 

“Here, I know you get cold easily.” Jisung handed you an extra sweater he pulled from his closet and you thanked him before sliding it over your shoulders. 

The both of you just stood in his living room, no one knew what to say or how to start the conversation, but you were here now so it was time to say everything you’ve felt. With a deep breath, you began. 

“I thought I could let go of my feelings for you, but I couldn’t.” You said, focusing on the floor as you couldn’t look him in the eyes. “And I’m sorry if this makes you feel uncomfortable or jeopardizes whatever is left of our friendship, but I can’t keep lying to myself anymore. If you don’t like me, then I’ll have to accept it and move on but I just had to let you kn-” 

Your spiel came to an abrupt stop when he drew you into his arms. Not knowing how to react, you were frozen from confusion and shock.

“Y/n, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?” He held you at arms length and gently titled your chin up so you could meet his gaze. “If I had known you liked me, I would’ve never looked at anyone else.”

His words were forming incoherent sentences in your head. Was this his confession? Did he feel the same way? 

He must’ve sensed your puzzlement because he smiled at you and said, “Yes dummy, I like you too.” 

Your immediate response was to smile, but then something dawned on you.

“What about your current relationship?”

“I’m no longer in a relationship. We have been broken up for nearly a month now.” 

“So what does that mean for us?” You say, almost too optimistically. And his response was to pull you in close, so close to the point where you could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks and your noses were barely touching, before closing the gap between your lips and his.

a/n: honestly, this piece is kind of all over the place since it’s my first one but hopefully more practice will make my writing better! also, this is not proofread so my apologies for any grammatical/punctuation errors. 

also here it my masterlist in case you want to read my other works!

[forevfangirlwrites]

Okay so either a teacher AU, secret relationship AU, more actress Annabeth, or cheerleader Annabeth? I love all of your writing so really anything is amazing

Betting is not encouraged at Jupiter High but that doesn’t stop half the students from forming a pool.

“They hate each other,” Katie asserts, rolling her eyes at the Stolls’ nonsense.

“Or, and hear me out,” Travis holds up his hands, “they’re actually flirting with each other.”

“Who flirts by being mean? That’s ridiculous.”

Travis, looking taken aback by her outburst, rubs the back of his neck meekly. “Some people do…”

Katie rolls her eyes again and turns back to the math homework incidentally assigned by the subject of conversation.

Ms. Chase was one of the hardest teachers at the school, but damned if everyone that entered didn’t walk out with a comprehensive understanding of mathematics.

Silena Beauguard, a senior, who had hated every moment of the class the year before, now sang praises of Ms. Chase and just how easy Calc was now. The girl had even decided to get a math minor.

Katie’s not quite at that level yet, but there’s no time to dwell on it as the bell rings.  

“I’m telling ya, you should get in on this,” Connor says. “Will bet twenty that they don’t actually hate each other but aren’t flirting either.”

“What kind of bet is that?”

Connor shrugs. “Don’t know, but it’s easy money.”

Shaking her head, she looks around in search of the other Stoll. Travis is lagging behind, suspiciously quiet, which usually means he’s planning some obnoxious prank on her.

“Travis, hurry up, we’re going to be late,” she urges against her better judgement.

Surprisingly though, he complies, and they make it to history with time to spare.

Mr. Jackson is the kind of teacher that encourages dressing up for a mock historical debate. But his energy is a bit contagious and makes the topics bearable.

He’s got a wide smile on his face today as he starts writing on the board, just as the second bell rings.

“Today,” he turns to address the class. “We’re going to be covering—“

A knock on the door interrupts him and everyone turns their attention to the front of the class.

Despite not getting along, the two teachers often interact with each other. Because standing at the door is none other than Ms. Chase.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she begins in a tone that doesn’t sound like she’s that sorry. “But Ka—”

She interrupts herself as her eyes land on the green letters on the board. “Are you talking about Hamilton? The musical?”

Mr. Jackson, keeping a very neutral face, responds, “Yes. There’s a lot to be learned from it.”

“Are you sure it’s not an excuse to just listen to a musical?”

The conversation is wholly civil with no undercurrent of anything in particular, but the whole class is watching in raptured silence.

“What brings you here Ms. Chase?” Mr. Jackson asks instead of replying.

“Katie.” Ms. Chase turns to the class. “You forgot your homework on the lunch table, I saw it when I was walking by.”

She takes two steps into the classroom as Katie, ears burning red, hastens to meet her. “And given that it’s for my class, I thought I’d return it,” Ms. Chase continues.

Katie mumbles a thank you as she accepts the paper, and hurries back to her seat, not wanting more eyes on her.

“How nice of you, Ms. Chase.” Mr. Jackson says. It’s a complete sentence but it feels like there’s things left unsaid as she turns back to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll let you get on with your class,” is all she says before stepping back out of the room. Mr. Jackson turns back to the board as Connor whispers to Travis.

“Dude, did you see? He was totally looking at her when she handed Katie her homework.”

Katie rolls her eyes. Of course, this bet business comes up again.

“But did you hear they way they were talking to each other,” Miranda whispers from behind her, evidently hearing the conversation. “They hate each other.”

Before Katie can shush all of them, Mr. Jackson turns back to the class.

“Anything I’m missing over there?”

Stifling a groan, she shakes her head.  “Actually, Mr. Jackson,” Connor speaks up, immediately overriding her answer.

“We were wondering if you’ve ever seen Hamilton?”

Thankfully, Mr. Jackson is also the kind of teacher to cut some slack, because he responds.

“Yeah, we saw it last year and it’s an incredible stage performance.”

“We?” Connor asks again, in an all too innocent voice.

Any other teacher and he would have been reprimanded but Mr. Jackson looks too caught off guard by the question to even say anything.

“Yes…me and my…girlfriend.”

She will never forget the moment that the whole class collectively lost their shit.

A silent shift, but the bulged eyes say everything, and even Mr. Jackson looks uneasy at the way they are staring at him.

“Right, so let’s get back on track. Hamilton…”

And despite her best intentions to try to pay attention to what he’s saying, the note passing between the Stolls get the better of her as the betting pool started to crumble.

-.-

“Maybe she doesn’t know he has a girlfriend and that’s why she’s flirting?”

Travis nods thoughtfully. “But then why would he flirt back?”

“Guys, lets face it, they don’t like each other.” And with that she turns back to her locker, her final words on the matter.

“Don’t know about that Katie Kat,” Travis says, still contemplating how to interpret this news. He’s not the only one, the entire class burst into conversation as soon as the bell had rang and PE next period made it all too easy to continue talking.

“I agree,” Connor adds with a smirk. “You’re pretty bad at figuring out when people like each other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She turns angrily towards Connor, only to find him cackling. Travis remains, once again, suspiciously quiet. And once again, before she can think further on what that means, the bell rings.

Walking into math has never been so…charged before today. The entire class is buzzing when Ms. Chase claps for attention.

“Alright class, we’re going to pick up where we left off on—”

But it’s difficult for anyone to pay attention and even Ms. Chase stops in the middle of a formula to address the obvious tension.

“What’s going on with you all today?”

Suddenly the whole class is silent. Her sharp grey eyes scan the class before landing on Travis and Connor.

“Well boys, you always know what’s going on.” She waits for an answer.

“Well,” Travis starts (after a lot of nudging from Connor). “We found out that Mr. Jackson has a girlfriend.”

The surprise is evident on her face. It’s rare to see Ms. Chase look taken aback, but she composes herself quickly enough.

“Good for him, why does that matter to all of you? A teacher’s personal life is allowed to be private.”

One day Connor will stop himself from speaking without a filter. Today is, clearly, not that day.

“Have you met her?”

Ms. Chase is exactly the kind of teacher that would never let anything like this stand but by some miracle of the gods, she’s not only taken back for a second time, it’s enough for her to not actually reprimand him.

“I..uh..yes, I have, not that it should matter to you.” Her composure, however, is lost on the entire class that, for the second time in that day, collectively loses their shit.

“Quiet!” Ms. Chase is still commanding enough to get everyone to shut up though.

“What’s she like?” Some girl in the back asks.

“She’s fine, now that’s not the point of—”

A loud knock at the open door has everyone’s attention.

And of course, of all the teachers, Mr. Jackson is standing there with his arms crossed.

“She’s great actually,” he says loudly.

For the first time, Ms. Chase actually rolls her eyes at the words.

“It doesn’t matter, that should not be a topic of discussion.”

Mr. Jackson nods. “You’re right. But for the record, she’s great.”  And with that he’s walking away again.

Ms. Chase actually rubs her face, letting out a huge sigh. She mutters something that Katie can’t make out.

“Okay, that’s enough, we’re getting through this formula now.”

She doesn’t know how they get through the class.

-.-

“Maybe—”

Katie cuts him off before he can say another word.

“Connor, please do not deposit another theory, I’ve heard like fifteen today.”

“Can you blame me? This is big news!”

She can’t, honestly. Despite her best efforts, she can’t stop thinking about it either. “No, I don’t blame you. I just can’t right now. Plus, I have a theory of my own I need to test.”

She shuts her locker and turns to her right. “Travis? Can I talk to you for a second?”

School’s out and most of the students have left, she’s only staying behind for Art Club and Travis and Connor usually chill with her for a bit before driving off. It’s been a long day, but she thinks she’s figured out at least one thing from all this chaos.

Connor immediately peaces out, walking down the hall as Travis looks nervously at her.

“What’s up?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

She can see a hint of red flushing is face. “I don’t—”

“I’m SO sorry to interrupt but you guys NEED to see this NOW!” Connor’s whisper yelling and beckoning them towards a classroom door.

Without even looking at her Travis immediately jogs to his brother, Katie following behind, shaking her head.

The door is only open a little bit, but it’s enough to hear what’s going on.

“I can’t let you shit talk my girlfriend!” Mr. Jackson’s voice is clearly recognizable.

“I didn’t shit talk and it was so not the time to bring that up.” Ms. Chase’s clear voice is also obvious.

“Okay maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but I can’t let anyone say something bad about MY girlfriend.”

“I didn’t even say anything bad!”

“You said fine, FINE. Are you kidding me? That’s—”

“I think I should be allowed to say whatever I want.”

Katie looks over at Travis and Connor, both of whom are staring with wide eyes at the whole exchange. There’s no way she just said that.

“No.” Mr. Jackson’s voice sounds like a pout.

Ms. Chase sighs. “You’re so stubborn.”

“I have to be to date a goddess.”

There’s a small chuckle at the words. “You’re actually ridiculous.” Ms. Chase sounds unbelievably fond.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But you still love me so I’m not gonna change.”

They can hear the smile in her voice when she responds. “I would never change you.”

“Even when I disrupt your class?”

There’s a beat of silence. “You’re lucky I love you.”

There’s another chuckle followed by more silence and Connor nods back in the direction of the hallway. They immediately run all the way down to her locker.

“NO FREAKING WAY!” Connor is leaning against the lockers as Katie automatically starts opening hers even though there’s nothing she needs to get from there.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

Connor looks at her. “What? Are you crazy?”

“Look, they clearly want to keep it private. We shouldn’t spill.”

Connor makes a face. “I mean it, Connor.”

“Ugh! Fine!” He turns towards Travis. “If you weren’t my brother, I would have kicked you for choosing someone with morals.”

And with that, he walks towards the doors.

It’s the last bit of confirmation she needs. She turns back to Travis who’s still nervously teetering close to her.

“So? Figure out if there’s anything you want to ask me yet?”

Travis makes a face. “You’re making fun of me!”

Smiling, she steps closer to him. “No, I’m not. I’m not mean to people I like.”

The sparkle in his eyes at her words makes her heart soar and she think she gets why Ms. Chase puts up with Mr. Jackson. It’s easy when the other person makes your heart flutter like that.

A/N: Hello! Thanks for the prompts! Another person also requested a teacher AU so I combined that request with yours and added some secret relationship in there! Told from an outside perspective but I hope you liked this! 

[eyeofthedrgn]

I have finally decided on a title for this multi chapter Rowcan fic: A Heavy Battle Symphony. Inspired by two Linkin Park songs (Heavy{feat. Kiiara}, Battle Symphony) that seem to fit the bill of the overall tone of the story. Since it deals with such dark topics and mental health, it just works. I wasn't intending for this to be song inspired, but here we are.

Also, I'm bad at summaries, but here we go:

Set in a modern high school AU. Lorcan was forced to live with his Aunt Maeve and boyfriend James Perrington, both of which are abusive. Once they move to Orynth, Lorcan's life is thrown into disarray when he meets Rowan.

Trigger warnings : language, mental abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, self-esteem issues, sexual abuse (only alluded to briefly in future chapters), just a lot of trauma, angst, smut - lots of lovely gay smut

Word count: just over 2k

Chapter 1 - Numb

Lorcan Salvaterre has had a pretty shitty life for only being 17. He's been to so many different schools, he doesn't remember them all. His mother died long ago, he didn't have a father, and he was then forced to live with his despicable Aunt Maeve when he was five. Lorcan didn't remember his mother anymore, all he knew was the cruelty of his aunt and her boyfriend, James Perrington.

Maeve's job required them to move every few months. Which meant his schooling was rather poor and often overlapped from school to school. He was always the loner and easily overlooked, at least until his growth spurt last year that catapulted him to be six and half feet tall.

He'd never had a friend in his life. No one would ever want to be friends with him in the first place. He always had a scowl on his face, wore black, long black hair, head down, his skin was a beautiful deep olive, his eyes dark as onyx. He was rather strange. And since his growth spurt, his hulking frame kept everyone away.

He never smiled, he rarely talked. To anyone. Not that he had much to say. He had no hobbies, no pleasures. All he was allowed to do in this meaningless life were chores, his homework, and lay in his room staring at the ceiling.

The way Lorcan had grown up was brutal. There were beatings for not finishing chores, misbehaving, or most of the time, just existing. He never got three meals a day, on the very rare occasion, he would get a small dinner, but generally, the only meal was usually lunch at school or when they were traveling. Even then, Maeve would order the smallest meal for the boy, gods forbid she had to spend more money on him than necessary or look bad in front of people.

That also meant that if he needed new clothes or something for school, he had to work extra for it. A lot of the time, he felt like a severely more abused Cinderella. His aunt made him do some of the most tedious chores in payment for his necessities.

The chores he could handle, sometimes they were even relaxing. The beatings on the other hand were less than desirable. Especially when most of the abuse wasn't even a result of Lorcan's supposed incompetency. But every beating was recorded in Lorcan's journal and accompanied by self harm.

Lorcan's mental health was far from healthy. He wished he had the courage to slice his wrists deeper, but if he failed to finish the job, he couldn't imagine how Maeve would react and what she would make Perrington do to him. So, he settled for the scars. 

His wrists and forearms were covered in scars. Every shirt he had was long sleeved to cover his coping habit. He didn't want questions or people staring, he hated being pitied. Honestly, he hated pretty much everything.

---

The new apartment Maeve had rented in Orynth was just like the rest of them. Lorcan's room was the smallest and also used for storage. Not that it mattered to Lorcan he only had a few things anyway, but it did mean that either his aunt or her boyfriend would barge in, whenever they wished, to grab something. Since Lorcan realized they were never going to stop and they always removed the lock from his door, he took to changing in the bathroom.

Lorcan was exhausted. He had spent all day moving every single box Maeve and Perrington had into the new apartment, making sure he put the boxes in the correct rooms. And setting up his room to give himself some semblance of privacy with the way he piled the storage boxes. 

A sleeping bag, a duffel bag full of worn and faded clothes in various shades of black, a few well worn books, a journal that he used to record every beating and every cut, and a fraying backpack full of school supplies were all of Lorcan's belongings. He didn't even have a real bed. Or a pillow.

Almost asleep in his sleeping bag, Maeve barges into his room and starts yelling at him.

"Lorcan! Where in the gods' forsaken apartment are my hair products!"

Lorcan had no idea why she needed them at midnight. "They're in your bathroom." Obviously.

"If they were, I wouldn't be here, you useless piece of shit!" She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up, then shoved him into the hall. He knew better than to fight as he stumbled down the hall, he did his best to keep his face neutral, but fuck, that hurt.

Resisting the urge to rub his poor scalp, he stalked to Maeve's bathroom and opened the box labeled MAEVE'S HAIR PRODUCTS. Lorcan sighed when he was greeted with her towels.

"I already looked there, you little welp," she snarled. "Now find my shit!" She stormed out and slammed the door.

Lorcan hung his head and looked around the room. He just wanted to sleep. It wasn't his fucking fault she mislabeled her fucking boxes. Again. Finding the box labeled MAEVE'S TOWELS, he opened it and sighed with relief as he set eyes on her missing items, and set the box on the counter. He informed Maeve of his discovery before heading back to bed.

---

Five hours later, Lorcan woke up, like clockwork. He released a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes. Hel, he was tired. Time to start an exhausting day of learning a new school and schedule.

Every morning was the same, up at five, shower, get ready for school, make breakfast that he wasn't allowed to eat. Only the adults were allowed breakfast. He'd get a knee to the gut if he attempted to snatch a strip of bacon or a link of sausage, or even a piece of toast. So, his stomach would growl until he got to eat a pathetic school lunch.

This morning would be slightly different from the rest, though. Maeve would have to take him to school and make sure he was registered. She always acted the caring aunt in public. It disgusted Lorcan. Especially when she would go the extra mile and kiss his cheek.

After Maeve left without a word to Lorcan, he stood in the main hall with his schedule and map in hand. This school was huge. Much bigger than most of the other high schools he had been to. That was to be expected, though. This was Orynth High after all, the biggest high school in the biggest city of Terrasen.

He looked over his schedule. He had no idea how he made it to senior year with all the holes in his education.

Fuck, why was pre-calc first? At least he was good at math.

He looked at the clock at the end of the hall, he still had half an hour before school actually started. Rather than wasting time, he found all of his classrooms in order, twice, and then went to the library to grab the necessary textbooks. 

By the time he left the library, the halls were filling up. Kids all around him were chattering, he was either ignored or kids looked at him with scared eyes and scurried out of his way.

He tugged his hood up and shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and made his way to first period.

---

Since it was the start of a new semester, most teachers ignored that Lorcan was new to the school. That was fine, he didn't want the attention anyway. But in his last class of the day, creative writing, they had to split into groups for an assignment. Lorcan hated group assignments. He was partnered with the smallest teenager he had ever seen.

"I'm Elide. You're new here aren't you?"

His nod was barely perceptible.

"It's Lorcan, right?" He nodded again. "Where are you from?" Her eyes were filled with pure curiosity. 

He cleared his throat. "Originally from Doranelle, but I don't remember it. My mother died when I was five. My aunt took me in and we move a lot." He blinked and shook his head in confusion at himself for telling a complete stranger something he hadn't told anyone else before.

How did this petite young woman bewitch him to talk more than he had in weeks? Lorcan felt exposed under her gaze. It felt like she could read him like a book. It was unnerving. 

"That sounds rough. I hope you like it here and I hope we can be friends." She finished with a smile.

Lorcan just turned back to the assignment.

The class passed without much other conversation besides about the assignment they had to do together.

Finally, the bell rang signalling the end of the day.

The first day at this school was done and he was exhausted and hungry. Lorcan was so focused on packing up his supplies into his ratty backpack that he didn't realize Elide was talking to him.

"A group of us are going to the park to hang out, wanna join?" He was zipping up his backpack, not hearing a word she said. "Lorcan?"

"Huh?" He looked up, confused. She giggled. His cheeks heated just slightly.

"Do you want to hang out with my friends and I after school?"

Why would he want to do that? Lorcan did remember saying she hoped they could be friends, but he thought she was just being polite. Now, she was trying to follow through.

But there was only one answer.

"No."

---

Elide adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she walked to the park to meet her friends. She could see Lorcan walking on the other side of the street away from her. His hood was up, head down, hands in his hoodie pocket, his posture slightly hunched. She thought he could almost pass for a shadow if his black clothes weren't so faded and worn.

She remembered looking into his eyes during class and seeing deep pools of onyx, they would have been gorgeous, but instead, they were dull, and lifeless. He had been so hard to read. Elide had guessed that he didn't have a good home life and they were poor, by the state of his clothes and backpack. She had seen the scars on his wrist when he reached into his bag for an eraser. It broke her heart. Watching him walk away, she noticed how awkwardly his clothes hung off of him. He was definitely too skinny for his frame.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear one of her friends come up behind and loop his arms through hers. Elide yelped and then realized it was her friend, Rowan Whitethorn. He had silver hair and pine green eyes that were always bright.

"I didn't mean to scare you! I called your name, but you were off in your own little world!"

"Sorry. I was thinking about the new kid that you will probably end up having a crush on." Rowan scoffed, Elide just laughed. 

They walked a bit in silence until Rowan made his confession.

"He is hot! He's in my gym class. Tell me everything, my precious Elide! I want to know!" Rowan was so excitable, it was infectious.

"He's in my creative writing class and we were partnered together. He said he's from Doranelle, his mother died when he was five, and his aunt took him in. And apparently, they move a lot." She also told him about the assumptions she made from her observations.

Rowan soaked up every word.

---

Lorcan was doing homework at the kitchen table when Maeve and Perrington came in with take out. It smelled good, Lorcan's stomach rumbled. Damn it. To his surprise, Maeve set down a small Chinese take out box right in the middle of this textbook. He blinked at it, and then up at his aunt, she looked kind for once. "Thank you." It was barely a whisper, but he knew she heard it because she nodded before walking away.

Sometimes he actually thought she loved him..

After his studies and meager dinner, Lorcan laid in his sleeping bag, using an old hoodie that didn't fit anymore as a pillow, trying to sleep. A sigh left his lips and he rolled over.

He couldn't sleep even though he was exhausted, so he pulled a well worn novel from his duffle bag. It was The Hobbit. Lorcan had read it many times. The spine was broken, pages were dog eared, some of the pages weren't even glued in anymore. But he enjoyed the adventure.

Lorcan was halfway through his book, when his window started lightening with the new day. He groaned and his stomach growled.

++++

Rowan couldn't get that new dark haired boy out of his mind. Lorcan Salvaterre. He had soaked up all the information he could from Elide about his new crush. Concentrating on his homework was so hard.

"Ugh." Rowan ran his hand through his hair and smacked his cheeks a couple of times to get himself to snap out of it. He still had homework to finish.

"Rowan, love, would you like some hot chocolate?" His mom leaned into his room. "You seem distracted today."

His mom, Barb, was the sweetest lady and the best mother one could ask for. They talked about everything. And he swore she had eyes everywhere because she always knew everything. Sometimes, Rowan hated that his mom was so observant.

"Yes, please." He got up from his desk and followed his mom to the kitchen. He enjoyed his cocoa with marshmallows. After taking a few sips, he told his mom about the new kid in school. She just smiled knowingly at him.

"Elide says he moves a lot. But I don't know exactly what 'a lot' means. Also, he's probably not into guys." He quirked his lips to the side. 

"You should probably start with actually talking to the boy."

Rowan whined, "Mom!" She just laughed and kissed the top of his head before retreating to the living room, leaving him with his thoughts and empty cup.

_____

Thanks for reading! I'll probably post the next chapter next Thursday or Friday.

[mental-dilemma]

A Quick Meeting Part 4?

Damian’s an exchange student in Paris taking it easy until an Akuma attacks and he gets to meet ladybug. -----------------------------------------

Ok before everyone starts pancking: I am Emu-Lumberjack I just decided to create a Sideblog for all my writing so that way those who follow me exclusively for that don’t have to deal with the chaos that is my main blog

also I’m sorry it’s taken so long to post this but just between school and work and school and just general exhaustion it’s been hard for me to write.

and as always all credit to the Au goes to @ozmav 

pt.1 

pt. 2

pt. 3

“I don’t suppose I could bribe you to drop the matter.” Damian said sitting down in Tim’s office. He and Ladybug were situated next to each other while Tim was on the other side of the desk.

“Nope.” He turned to Ladybug, “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself, making sure Damian didn’t disappear and all that. Anyway I’m Tim Drake, Co-Ceo of Wayne enterprises and Damians older brother.”  

Ladybug turned to Damian and quietly said, “So does everyone in your family constantly talk like they’re trying to impress a victorian lord?” Damian snorted. Tim, unable to hear what she just said, looked to the two agape.

“At least I have a reason.” Damian responded, this time loudly enough for his elder brother to hear. “Anyway Tim is in CEO mode right now, which is pretty rare. Usually he’s a bumbling zombie dependent on coffee to function. In fact I remember one time when Dick took the last cup he----”

“I’d suggest stopping right there or I’ll tell her about the batcow incident.” Tim interrupted.

 “Did you just say batcow? Because I understand each of those words separately.” Ladybug said, and even though her mask still concealed half her face Damian could tell she was really confused.

“Don’t ask. Just don’t.” Damian said quietly.

“Anyway. I never caught your name and considering the fact that your in a mask I assume you’re a hero. Which is surprising because none of us knew Paris had heroes.” Tim cut the two of them off before more could be said.

“Yes that’s becoming a common theme I’m finding,” Marinette began. “My name is Ladybug in the mask. I have a partner, Chat Noir, but he’s currently indisposed, something about paint in his hair.” Damian stifled a laugh as Marinette continued, “We have been operating out of Paris for the last few years, early on we tried contacting the Justice league but Green Lantern told us not to prank call him.”

“Oh did he now.” Tim said, leaning his head forward.

“Yes he did. Thankfully my power allows me to reverse all damage done during a fight. Including any lives lost or monuments destroyed.”

“That sounds like a very useful power. I'm sure that the heroes of Gotham would love to work with you.” There was a twinkle in his eye that Damian knew meant Tim was concocting some scheme. He was about to jump in, but Marinette got there first.

“Yes I’m sure you would but the issue is we currently have our hands full here although from what Damian told me you guys sound much more fun to work with. At least the villains have better costumes.”

Tim noting her wording turned to Damian, “Did you tell her the family secret? You know what Alfred will do if he finds out.”

Damian smirked “I’m not an idiot Drake this was all her. She could rival you for deductive reasoning.” Marinette just sat there looking innocent.

“Well that explains why the two of you were sneaking around together, Ladybug should I assume Damian knows your identity as well?”

“Yep.”

“Well this is going to be a nightmare. But this just means  I can formally invite you to Gotham at least. Ha just leave it to the Ice Prince to leak the identity on his first civilian trip abroad.” Tim leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“Actually it was you guys who tipped me off.”

Tim suddenly opened his eyes and looked her straight in the eyes. “Come again.”

“Well it was the fact that no one had spied Robin around Batman while Damian was in France. Then the fact that you were patrolling rather than him tipped me off that Robin might be on a vacation..” Tim just face palmed.

“Of course that would happen, how did we not see it coming.” He muttered to himself. “Wait, that begs another question: how did you two meet.”

Damian blushed and before Ladybug could respond he said “not important, there was an akuma. Now do you need anything else.”

“Actually yeah. Ladybug you mentioned the video you sent to Green Lantern, well Batman found it and wanted us to investigate. He didn’t know Green Lantern had seen it or otherwise he’d be on his way back to Ooa healing from a scolding from Alfred. Dick and Jason wanted to come but Bruce needed someone he could send discreetly and who better than the Co-CEO of Wayne industries who could just be checking up on the Paris branch.” Ladybug was impressed by the scheming having Dick Greyson or Jason Todd come in would stir up villain or media activity but Tim the third son wouldn’t.

“Well if you want we can meet up with my partner later and you can formulate a list of questions. Plus it seems you and Damian have some catching up to do.”

“There was a reason I came to Paris Ladybug. Being forced to talk to Tim was not one of them.” Damian made to leave only for a yoyo to catch his leg. Ladybug smirked at him. “Maybe a five minute chat couldn’t hurt anyone. Family reunion and all that.”

“Great then as long as everyones in agreement I can set up a time with chat later this evening for all of us to talk things through and get a strategy in place.”

“Are you sure about this having the league involved is going to cause a lot of chaos and even more dangerous villains could target Paris.”

“Tim I have dealt with so much crap the last couple of years that at this point I will take Darkseid over Lila…… Oh crap. We forgot about Lila.” Marinette looked at Damian who was coming to the same realization she was. He called out Lila in the bakery, and outed himself as a Wayne.

“Do I want to know?” Tim said rubbing his temples. He did not miss highschool.

“Lets just say school tomorrow’s going to be interesting, and I think we’re going to have to put the meeting on hold till after it. Ladybug and I are going to need to deal with school tomorrow, and caffeine isn’t gonna cut it.” Damian said.

“Then again if we aren’t lucid tomorrow might not be so bad….” Marinette began

“Do not even finish that, you even more than me need sleep. Between fashion, school and heroing you function off an hour.”

“You.. have a point. I’ll brief Chat on the situation on my way home. In the meantime I’ll leave you too to the brotherly bonding I’m sure you need.” she pulled her yoyo from her pocket, “See you tomorrow Damian, and whatever plan you hatch up make sure nit doesn’t include killing anyone.”

“Goodnight Ma--- Ladybug. And no promises.” The boy caught himself before revealing Ladybug's identity. She gave him the look of ‘don’t fuck up my secret identity bird boy’ before jumping out the window to run from rooftop to rooftop.

“So. how long have you had a crush on her.” Tim pulled Damians attention, and Damian was sudden;y very glad he had said nothing about not killing his brother.

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

“Do you think they’ll actually help this time?” Chat’s voice rang over the phone, Marinette had stopped behind one of the chimneys to talk to him in private.

“I don’t know, at least now they are actually considering it rather than just brushing us off as children.” Marinette was tired but they needed to have this chat now, there wouldn’t be any chance to in class tomorrow.

“Yeah, just don’t get your hopes up. They left us to fend for ourselves for 3 years and are only doing this now because of Damian if you didn’t know him then none of this would’ve happened.  

“Ok but why does that matter that it’s Damian? They could’ve been doing it because of Jon too.”

“Oh please, you're more dense than our class sometimes. Jon would’ve noted it then forgotten to tell someone, but Damian told Batman right away. Why do you think he did that?”

“Chat I am too tired for this.” Marinette could feel Adrien facepalming through the phone.

“Oh I am not spelling this out for you, this time you get to figure it out yourself.”

“Fine. but next time you need help on your calc homework don’t come running to me.” Marinette hung up on him and made her way home. The parisian streets were nice and quiet for her, no akuma meant maybe another hour of sleep.

Once she was out of the suit she let Tikki rest and got right to work on the new piece she was making for Jagged, he wanted to somehow have the score of his newest piece sewn onto the pants for his next concert, and she had to brainstorm.

Twenty minutes went by.

Then an hour.

Then two.

Finally she put up her pencil and put on her pajamas, as she was falling asleep Adriens words kept replaying in her head, and the meaning slammed into her like a truck. Pulling out her phone she sent one message.

Oh fuck off

tag list: @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @yuulxd @smolplantmum @inarachi02 @notmycupoftea26 @laurcad123 @unknownvsworld @jeminiikrystal @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

[bellafarallones2]

a/n: t-rated indruck fluff from #21 on Veronica Bunch's college au prompt list: I get stuck with a late class that doesn’t end until 9pm and I’m always anxious about walking across the campus to the dorms, so you offer to walk with me and one night, I find out that it’s in the exact opposite direction that you need to go in

Duck had signed up for Performance Studies because he needed arts credits and because the meeting time, seven to nine in the evening Tuesdays and Thursdays, worked well with the rest of his schedule. He was less happy when the professor emailed out the homework for the first day: a reading that examined the question “what is performance?” for thirteen dense pages without managing to come to a conclusion.

By the time he showed up to the first class, he barely remembered any of the points the reading had made. Most of the other students already seemed to know each other, and were talking in groups when he arrived. Only one man, a tall guy with silver hair whose black roots suggested he’d spent an evening bent over a sink for it, was sitting alone and silent.

“Anyone sitting here?” said Duck.

“You?” said the guy hopefully. He was wearing jeans and a soft beige cardigan over his white shirt, and there was a small rainbow-flag patch on his black backpack.

“I’m Duck,” Duck said. “And my pronouns are he/him.” He still occasionally got read as a butch lesbian, and it was better to establish the pronoun thing right out of the gate.

“Indrid. I also use he/him.”

That was all they said before the professor showed up and class began. The professor genuinely cared about the material, which made the whole thing more interesting, though Duck was still distracted. Indrid had very nice hands, nails painted chipped black, and he doodled the entire class, filling a whole page with spiky fractals.

Finally nine o’clock arrived. The sky outside was pitch-black. “I’m not really looking forward to walking home this late,” Duck said as he stood waiting for Indrid to finish packing up. “Wish I had your punk privilege.”

“Excuse me?” Indrid looked amused.

“You know. You’re tall and you have piercings.” As Duck said that, Indrid stood up, revealing that he was even taller than Duck had previously thought. Jesus, this guy had Slenderman legs. “You look like you could throw a punch.”

“I could use my punk privilege to walk you home, if you’d like.”

“I’d appreciate it, if it’s not too out of your way - I live on High Street next to the REI.”

“Yeah, I’m going that way.”

Duck held the door as they left the building and walked together down the half-lit street. The planes of Indrid’s face looked almost unearthly in the streetlights.

“You an art major?” Duck asked.

“Visual arts and math. I needed to take something in theater or music as a distribution requirement and this was the least theater or music class I could find that was also after noon.”

Duck laughed. “Yeah, I’m in the forestry program and I had to take something artsy.”

Indrid nodded. They walked in silence for a while, but Indrid didn’t seem to mind, his hands shoved into his pockets and his face turned up.

“This is me,” Duck said when they reached the REI. The door to the apartments above was almost unnoticeable next to the brightly-lit storefront.

“Alright,” Indrid said as Duck fiddled with his key. “See you on Thursday!”

“Goodnight!” said Duck when the door swung open, looking around. As soon as Indrid saw that Duck was inside, he turned and walked back the way they’d come. Duck wondered vaguely where he lived; this block didn’t have many students. Ah, well. A question for another day.

--

On Thursday before class Duck stopped at the snack bar for dinner and spotted a familiar head of silver hair. Indrid was drawing, his head tilted at an odd angle so he could both look at the page and drink from the straw on a sixteen-ounce cherry slushy.

“Mind if I join you?” said Duck.

Indrid looked up and his face lit up. “Of course! I don’t mind, I mean. Please sit.”

Duck realized then that what he’d assumed was art was in fact math, that Indrid was taking notes out of a slim, intimidating textbook. Duck recognized a couple of integral signs and that was about it. “Math, huh?”

Indrid nodded.

“I had to take Calc 2 for my major, I wish I’d known you then so you could have helped me with it.”

Indrid laughed, tapping his pencil. “I’d have been happy to. Certainly numbers make more sense than people do, sometimes.”

“Probably more sense than that performance reading.” Duck leaned forward. “I don’t suppose you’d be down to walk me home again?”

Indrid shrugged. “You’re good company.”

--

Duck met Indrid again at the local park that weekend. Their homework for the week was to record themselves performing in a way they did in their daily lives, and Duck didn’t feel like getting into gender, so he’d decided to show how he performed when giving a nature talk, and he’d asked Indrid to help film. (He’d offered to help film Indrid’s performance in return, but Indrid had politely declined, joking about performance anxiety.)

It was less awkward than Duck had been expecting. He walked around the park, pointing out the fungus on a tree trunk and a frog sitting with just its eyes over the surface of the water. Indrid, filming on Duck’s phone, smiled encouragingly whenever he met Duck’s eyes, and it was all Duck could do not to break his train of thought to grin back.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said when he was done.

“Thank you for the free nature walk!” said Indrid as he handed Duck’s phone back to him. Their hands brushed against Duck’s smooth phone case. “I come here to draw sometimes, but I’ve never noticed all that before.”

--

They watched everyone’s videos in class that week. Most of them were pretty boring. Duck cringed through the playing of his own video, though Indrid had done a good job with the camerawork, and a few of the music majors in the class had recorded themselves playing their instruments, which was at least nice to listen to. And then it was Indrid’s turn.

The video opened on a close-up shot of Indrid’s face. I am an artist, the voiceover said, Indrid’s own voice booming across the classroom. Sometimes I even look like it.

The Indrid on the screen bent his head - he was looking not at the camera but at a mirror behind it, putting on heavy eyeliner and spotty mascara. He switched out the subtle studs along the shell of his ear for something heavier, flashier, chain running between the holes. Then he stepped back from the camera and shrugged on a black leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders. A punk jacket. He posed, self-conscious, and as he started laughing the camera cut sharply to his face, again large.

I had an internship last summer with an insurance company calculating risk. He rubbed the makeup off his face with a makeup wipe, his eyes reddening slightly at the contact. He removed the jacket and folded it carefully before placing it out of frame. And then he picked up a pale blue button-down and buttoned it carefully down over his undershirt, and tied a tie in a perfect Windsor around his neck. He removed the bar from his eyebrow and the chains from his ears, which looked rather naked without them.

I perform to look like the things I know I can do. He dabbed concealer over the rosy maple moth tattooed at his neck, one wingtip peeking over the collar of the shirt. Then he held his hand out for a handshake, a business handshake, and sure, he looked like the kind of person Duck would trust to sell insurance. But there was something about his smile, something Duck wondered if anyone else could see. Something that lingered no matter what he wore.

Duck probably should spend less time thinking about his mouth.

--

“So my lease ends in January,” said Duck casually as they turned the corner onto his street. “And I’ve been having trouble finding other places that rent to students in this neighborhood, so I was wondering how you found your place.”

“Oh,” said Indrid, sounding guilty. “Well, I don’t know how much help I can be. I live up by the corner of 16th street and Broad.”

Duck did some quick mental geography as he climbed the step up to the front door. “That’s completely the other direction!”

“I know.” He was dressed like neither an insurance salesman nor a metal punk, today, with gold studs glittering in his ears like grains of sand and a soft, oversized sweater falling off one shoulder. The black roots of his hair had grown since the beginning of the term.

“You told me the first day of class that walking home wouldn’t be going out of your way! You know I don’t need walking home, right?”

“Of course. I just. Uh. I wanted to spend more time with you. I’m sorry for misleading you, we can stop if it makes you feel weird.”

Duck looked down at him. Indrid stood silently, awaiting judgment. “How about you come in?”

Indrid looked up. “I don’t mean to impose, it’s no trouble to walk home -”

Duck held out his hand. Indrid took it and followed him up the stairs without letting go. “You aren’t allergic to cats, are you?” Duck said when he finally had to take his hand back to unlock the door.

“Even if I was, I’d happily resign myself to sneezing.”

Duck opened the door and, as soon as Indrid was inside, crowded him up against it. Indrid slowly lifted his hands, trembling, and rested them on Duck’s shoulders. His gaze beneath his glasses flicked from Duck’s eyes to his lips and back again.

“Can I kiss you?” Duck said.

“Yes please.”

Indrid’s mouth was warm and soft and yielded so easily to Duck’s tongue, fuck, they should have done this sooner. Class would have been so much more bearable if he could have been looking over at Indrid’s lips the whole time knowing that as soon as class was over he could drag him out into the hallway, into one of the gender-neutral bathrooms in the arts building and kiss him silly.

“You don’t have any morning classes tomorrow, do you?” Duck asked when he finally pulled away enough to speak.

Indrid shook his head.

“Want to watch a movie and make out?”

“That sounds perfect.”

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2654

great news! yesterday was just my body being Dramatic™ because it needed a break. but i generally refused to give it, so it said "well fine, but don't come crawling to me when you do need a break."

lmao ok

anyway

i woke up today with no nose problems. no stuffy head. no allergies pestering me. clear nostrils. clear head.

but i also woke up at 6am.

for no discernible reason.

i tried sleeping again, which worked for about forty minutes, and then i said "yknow what? fuck it." and i just got up. i showered (it was lovely) and cooled down enough (wild, right??) and got dressed while cleaning up some things in my room (what???) and i went downstairs around 7:25. around 7:35 or so i left. i made it to bedford around 8. there was no line at starbucks. i made it to the school - with starbucks - by 8:20am. what. the fuck.

i walked in and aileen intercepted me and told me, "there's a veterans breakfast outside the MPR, everyone's invited." so i went and got breakfast. eggs and potatoes and fruit, all well cooked and really good and i was a happy clam. a moderately tired but happy clam.

i went back to the library for 9. no appointment at 9. 10am appointment (chemistry) didn't show. 11am appointment (microbiology) was online. 12pm appointment (spanish) was late but still came. 1pm was my break, so i laid on the floor to stretch out my spine. 1:30pm a student came over for help with calc. the first math i'd done. i'm the math tutor. lmao.

anyway, 2pm appointment (older lady in for early childhood education) showed up at 2:40, so i told her to come back at 4. 3pm appointment (earth science) was there on time and we went a little long, but that was fine. then for two and a half hours, i worked with the older lady on her early childhood ed class materials.

i left around 6:30pm. i got home just after 7, and immediately sat down to tutor some more. (statistics!! MATH!!!! fuckin incredible.) we went until about 8 when she had to go check around for her son, as he wasn't where he was supposed to be and she was worried.

by that point, i'd been working with students and handling other peoples' shit for twelve hours. i was brain dead.

so i did what any normal brain dead person does:

sit and stare at the computer screen until it does something.

in my case, i stared at my homework until i decided i had a headache and i needed to go the fuck to sleep instead. i was also stressing about cleaning my room. but i knew that the homework was the priority, because i can always clean my room tomorrow after class; homework is due by 10am. so i had to get it done first.

but i sat and watched tv, completely tuned out. i was hungry, but was sick of the sugar. i grabbed a big cup of water and gulped it down. put it down. didn't pick it up again.

did nothing, curled up in my chair and waited for myself to give in and go the fuck to sleep.

did i do that?

no.

i stayed up, decided around 10 that i needed food, so i made mac n cheese which, despite not being the normal stuff, was quite delicious. so i had mac n cheese and i went back to my physics work. i kind of logic-ed through the second problem and then got stuck on the third one for so long because i did the right thing and i did it over and over and i wasn't getting the right answer. fuck. so i looked it up, and i found a step-by-step process, which made sense, honestly. but it didn't give units, so when my answer was ultimately wrong, i didn't fucking know what to do. i got the same answers that i did the first time. i was just missing a step: i had to convert the sun's luminosity from units of Ldot to Watts, which isn't something that anyone said anything about anywhere. so i'm glad i figured it out. i ended up getting it right after that. because i'm a smart cookie. hell yeah. and then i did the fourth one, which was stupid too. i don't even remember what it was. oh. i remember. i think i may have gotten it wrong. but it was fucking. 1:30am. and i wasn't about to do another problem again because i was just too damn tired.

at some point i talked to joel, he encouraged me to eat and to go get some sleep, which i did, and will do shortly. he's got an interview tomorrow, and i'm so excited for him!!

but also i miss him. i would like joel hugs.

and i realized this morning as i was being a couch potato at work why my knee has been killing me so fucking much.

it's sensitive to the weather.

but not because of the surgeries i've had.

because i broke it in february this year.

i'm a goddamn fool. christ on a cracker.

[idk-mlb-is-reals-cute44]

Mirror

(AO3 Link)

Mirror. A reflective surface, often framed and decorated, in which your own appearance may be seen.

The first time Kagami snuck out was in the middle of July. She was supposed to be studying next year’s coursework, and she had gotten as far as cracking open the brand-new pre-calc textbook before she was suddenly standing, full of energy and not sure what to do with it. She fiddled with the choker Ladybug had finally entrusted her with that winter, and before she even made the decision to, she found herself on the roof, wrapped in an armor of spandex and magic. That first night was full of a dread that made her movements sloppy, her jumps often stumbled and her heart over-fast. Her mother had trusted her to study, to stay in her room and do as she was told. Slipping back through her bedroom window to find her treachery undiscovered filled her with a heady rush. A secret. She had a secret.

From then it became a habit. About once a week, often more, when she was supposed to be studying, she climbed out her window and took to the rooftops. She hadn’t realized how little of Paris she had seen until then. She visited kitschy sandwich shops and outdoor farmer’s markets. One particularly tepid August day, the week before school started, she stumbled upon a dance battle outside a small hip hop studio (she didn’t win, not by a long shot, but something about the feeling of being a part of a crowd, of a moment, thrilled her). After years of magical ladybugs and rampaging akumas and mayor’s daughters becoming superheroes, it was practically mundane to have a girl dressed in a dragon-y onesie visit your grocery store. She’d been complimented on her “cosplay” at least three times. She didn’t tell the other superheroes. She didn’t quite know why. It wasn’t against the rules or anything. Rena Rouge regularly picked up pizza before team hangouts, and Chat Noir had been spotted frequenting a flower shop once or twice. It was nice, though. To have something that was just hers. That wasn’t for anybody else. That she did just because she wanted to.

The first time she got a B on a homework assignment was an equal-parts mixture of confusingly exhilarating and nerve wracking. At first she was sure she would burn it. Shred it or rip it up and hide it in a dumpster where no one could find it. But instead she smoothed it out from where her tight grip had crumpled the paper, and slipped it in her backpack. She taped it to the back of her locker, and every now and then she would look at it and smile. She didn’t have any friends at school to ask her why. Even if she had, she wasn’t sure what she would say. Something about the curved letter, splashed in bright red across the top right corner of her history paper, made her feel like she was tethered. One large, egregious stomp of a footprint where before she had tiptoed, barely indenting the sand.

She was friends with the girl who butchered fish at the deli. Kagami wasn’t sure it was a deli, to be clear. It sold sandwich meats and cheese, but also fresh fish and honey cakes when the owner’s elderly mother made a batch, and a collection of awful romance novels on a shelf in the back that the owner collected and nobody bought. But the sign out front said “Alberts’ Deli,” so, Kagami was friends with the girl who butchered fish at the deli. Or, more specifically, Ryuko was. But Ryuko was more Kagami than Kagami was Kagami, most days. The girl was blonde and overwhelmingly foul mooded. She was rarely spotted without pink bubblegum scrunched between her teeth, and she was pessimistic in a way that made Kagami feel positively bubbly in comparison. When Kagami ordered fish, the girl went out of her way to find interesting newspapers to wrap it in, a sort of inside joke between the two of them. Kagami had never properly had an inside joke with someone before. Kagami didn’t know what to do with the fish that she bought. The money wasn’t a problem, she had a weekly allowance and nowhere to spend it barring the few times a month she and Adrien got together, but she hated wasting the fish, and it wasn’t like she could just leave it in her refrigerator. Her mom still didn’t know she’d been sneaking out, and mystery fish wasn’t easy to brush off. So far she’d been leaving it on Marinette’s balcony, because she seemed like the type of person who knew what to do with spare fish. But this weekend her mother was out of town until Sunday afternoon, and Kagami had an idea. Kagami didn’t know how to cook. Maybe she should have spent more time contemplating that, but she pulled up a recipe and googled how to use the stove. She burned herself three times, twice on her pinkie finger and once across her palm, but she ended up with an arguably passable cooked fish. It was a little burnt and a little under seasoned, but she ate the whole thing, and hand washed her plates and the pan, returning them exactly where they had been. It felt like a victory.

“I’m gay,” she said to an old man as she helped him cross the street. He looked a little confused, due to her being a complete stranger, but shrugged and said, “Whatever floats your boat, Missy.” “I’m gay,” she said to the girl who worked at the deli. “Am I supposed to act surprised?” Adelaide returned in a bored voice, scrounging up a copy of the funnies that she’d saved at the bottom of the newspaper pile in the case that Kagami stopped by. Kagami smiled. “I’m gay,” Kagami tells Ladybug, on accident when the two of them are partnered up on patrol. She hadn’t meant to. She’d wanted to keep her life and Her Life separate. But it was out there now. “Oh,” Ladybug said, looking a little shocked. “Oh, okay.” “Is that okay?” Kagami asked, hesitating before her next jump and fumbling the landing. “Yes,” Ladybug said, and Kagami knew that she would say yes, she did know it, but something in her breathed a sigh of relief anyway, “Yes of course it’s okay.”

Kagami joined a hip hop class. Not Ryuko-Kagami. Kagami-Kagami. Kagami, face bare of any mask and hands exposed to the open air, asked her mother if she could sign up for a dance class at the studio where the dance battle had been. She didn’t tell her mother about the dance battle. Her mother had been confused, at first. But she’d agreed. Reluctantly, but she’d agreed. Kagami’s first class went poorly. It was November, so everyone else was leagues ahead of her, and she kept messing up the moves. Her arms felt jerky and awkward and her feet were never quite in the right place it seemed. She didn’t know if she’d ever been that happy in her life.

The B on her homework didn’t become a common recurrence. She kept the history paper taped to her locked, and it was joined by one pre-calc assignment and a lab write up, but overall she kept her grades up. She knew her place in the hip-hop class was more or less dependent on her school and fencing performance remaining unchanged. She’d made one friend though. “What’s that about?” George asked the first time they walked together to their lockers, hers and then his, in order of closeness to their final class, “You do know that you get the top grades in, like, the whole year, right? You don’t have to torture yourself with the few average grades you get. Anyone would be jealous to just have 3 Bs.” “No,” she said, “It’s not about that.” He seemed to want to ask what it was about, then, but she shrugged. They walked in silence to his locker, and she leaned against the wall as he stuffed back-breaking textbooks into his backpack. “My name means mirror,” she said finally, and he looked up, curious, “Sometimes it’s nice to… remind myself I’m not just the things people want to see in me. I guess.” “That’s… poetic,” George said, but not like he was mocking her. Kagami felt half her mouth lift in an awkward smile. “Thanks.”

She ends up not being very well suited to hip hop. Which isn’t to say that she quitted, just that she discovered her “worst in the class” phase wasn’t much of a phase at all. The gap became smaller, though. Penelope, a girl not much younger than Kagami, asked Kagami to help her with the footwork she forgot. The teacher corrected her less and less. She stopped feeling like a fish out of water and more like an average fish in a school of particularly exceptional fish… or something. They had a dance battle again. The studio puts them on once every three months, and participation isn’t mandatory but there’s no shortage of friendly peer-pressure. Kagami finds out that it’s scarier to dance in front of a crowd when you know them and they know you. When you’re not just a stranger in a mask. She didn’t anticipate how much sweeter the failure feels when, upon hopping off the makeshift outdoor stage, you’re surrounded by friends (and they are her friends, she has so many more friends than she could have ever imagined) whom holler and yell about how “AMAZING you were, Kagami, oh my god you killed it!” Penelope shyly asked if Kagami could show her how to do the jump Kagami had made up. It was a weird jump, kind of stumble-y and very awkward. Kagami shows her anyway. (She was still the worst in the class. She really didn’t mind.)

“You seem different,” Adrien said off-handedly one evening. The two of them were eating ice cream in the park, watching the newly sprung-up grass sway in the breeze. There was still some snow on the ground, leftover from the last big storm of winter. “I know,” Kagami said, “I feel different.” “You seem happier,” he added, getting chocolate all over his face. She smiled, and handed him a napkin, and stared up at the sky. “I spent so much time trying to be what other people wanted me to be,” she said, taking a contemplative lick of her strawberry ice cream, “And then I decided to figure out who I was when I wasn’t.” Adrien was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure who I am all the time,” he confessed. Kagami giggled. “Me neither.”

[notesbyash]

Hey! I hope you don't mind, but I just want to take something off my chest. Also, english is not my first language.

Right now, I'm starting my third semester in engineering, but I can't learning nothing in online classes. Literally.

I know that a lot of students are also suffering with that, but my anxiety is really kicking my ass in the past few weeks and I don't have anyone to talk about this.

It's just a mess. It's not procrastination anymore, it's fucking depression.

I'm currently doing calculus 3 in online format, and also physics 2 and 3 but because I can't motivated myself to study online before I don't really know the previous calculus well enough and this makes everything 1000x harder. I just wanted to study and know things but I'm feeling behind of everyone and everything, and I don't know if I have enough time to review my old classes to understand my new one's. Fuck.

I'm really sad...I feel like I can't understand nothing and I feel stupid. I really want to be a good student.

Hey anon,

Let me just start this off by saying that you are Not stupid or bad student - far from it. From what you've told me, you seem curious and driven and want to learn, but are just stuck in a situation that doesn't allow you to flourish as you want to. Your situation is not a reflection of who you are and though can be difficult to keep that distinction when things go to shit, sometimes little constant reminders (even if they feel fake) can help. Engineering is a brutal subject, and I'm incredibly proud of you for tackling it.

If it's any consolation, I've been in a similar situation to you before. The university system slams information at you at a relentless pace, and I struggled to keep up too. Went through the exact same situation with the calc series where I knew I didn't know enough but also didn't have the time to study up and prepare for it. Adding struggles with anxiety and depression onto it only made things worse - the paralysis of knowing you need to get things done and just being unable to do them is always the most frustrating part for me. Online courses seem as if they would only make a bad problem worse and I can't imagine the amount of pressure you are under. But again, it's not your fault. You're doing what you can in the situation you are in (even if it doesn't feel like it).

Not sure if you're looking for advice - in which case feel free to skip this section - but one thing that helps kick me out of the cycle of paralyzing thinking is just lowering the stakes what I consider good. It's the whole thing about "doing a bad job at the task is still better than not doing the task at all." My sophomore year was absolutely characterized by this mindset. I did not do well in my classes but fuck it, I did my classes. I turned in unfinished exams filled with scribbled attempts to explain my thinking in shameless point grab attempts. I skimmed and word-searched my textbooks instead of reading them. I got a Chegg subscription and did my homework side by side with the solution guide. It's not how you're "supposed to learn" or what people tell you to do but it's still learning. Adherence to a set of study rules that didn't work just wasn't a sustainable system for me; there's no reason you have to play by rules that are arbitrary. Fuck the system, do what you need to do to survive in the rip tide that is university (obviously I'm not condoning cheating or academic dishonesty, but I am condoning turning in your homework half-finished to preserve your sanity).

There's a lot of emphasis on "doing your best" but just "doing" tends to get overlooked. I get it. It's not glamorous to admit that you're at the bottom of the class (have been there) or are failing a class (have also been) or failed out of a class (have been there too). However, I've noticed that a lot of it ends up being posturing to preserve an image. But it's not necessary even though there's pressure to keep that image up. Sometimes the smartest option is to let go of pretense and focus on surviving. It is difficult. It is ugly. But you're absolutely not alone.

Hopefully this made any sort of sense - if you need to vent feel free to message or send an ask. I'm here for you and I'm rooting for you.

[ohshit-itsyagorl]

Four Dipshits and a Michelle

Part 7

Part 1, Writing Masterlist

Read on AO3 HERE

Summary: Michelle never believed in soulmates. But what happens when she turns seventeen and gets her mark? What happens when she inevitably finds the person with the matching tattoo? And what is she supposed to do with Peter Parker. Her best friend in the whole world. Her crush. Someone she feels drawn to for some inexplicable reason.

The next day was the first day of senior year, which meant Michelle had to get up at the ass-crack of dawn. She practically fell out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, dragging her feet with every step, and when she looked in the mirror, she cursed quietly under her breath. She looked like death. To be fair, she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. A few hours after Spider-man left, Peter had decided to take a shower, and his mark had flared again. She couldn’t really blame him—he did a pretty good job controlling it for the most part, and to be fair, it still happened to her, too.

She brushed her teeth and ran her fingers through her hair, deciding she would just leave it loose today. Throwing her clothes on, she went out into the kitchen and made herself a bowl of cereal.

She greeted Betty and Cindy when she got to home room. Home rooms were split by gender: girls in some rooms, boys in others, so there was never a chance that Peter or Ned would be in her home room. Thankfully, that also meant that there was no chance that Flash would be in her home room either.

Ms. Winninski handed out schedules to all the students, and MJ looked down at hers.

“What classes are you guys taking?” Cindy asked. She was already opening her messages to the group chat, furiously typing away under her desk as phones were not permitted in home room.

“Creative writing—I think Ned is in that class,” Betty said, blushing furiously. “AP Calculus is second period, which will be rough, but then I have theatre, so at least there’s a break. I opted to take dance/health instead of gym/health, and then I have lunch—god, I really don’t want to eat cafeteria food for the next nine months. After lunch I have French, then AP environmental science—oof, those are on opposite sides of the building—and I finish off with AP Econ.” She looked up from her schedule.

Cindy rattled off her schedule next. Then, they were both looking at MJ expectantly.

“Peter and I have AP Chemistry first period.” MJ looked up to find Betty waggling her eyebrows. “Shut up,” she said. “Then I have AP Calc with you and Cindy. AP great books, gym/health—I usually just read in that class anyway—then lunch, Spanish, art, and AP Psych.”

Cindy looked up from her phone and gave the report: “We actually have a few classes with Ned and Peter this year, not just PCB like in years past.”

MJ wanted to look and see but it was too risky with Ms. Winninski prowling around the classroom answering questions and confiscating phones. She sighed and pulled out her sketchbook.

Home room ended a few minutes later and soon Michelle was off to AP chemistry. She smiled at Peter when she saw him, then she remembered what he had done last night and her face reddened.

They sat down at the same lab table and sat in awkward silence, each not really sure what to say to the other.

On days like this, when they were just a bit out of sync, MJ just wanted everything to go back to normal.

Normal—what was normal these days? Michelle wasn’t really sure she knew anymore.

That entire day was exactly like every other first day of school, with teachers taking attendance, going over the syllabus, playing name games (seriously, they weren’t in kindergarten anymore),  and every teacher assigning the same getting-to-know-you packet for homework, which meant that MJ had to talk about herself seven times.

She guessed that part was normal, but everything else? She was part of the 0.02% of the population that had a true mate, she knew who he was, he didn’t know who she was, she loved him, he didn’t love her, they both had this annoying habit of getting aroused at the worst times, and neither of them could shower in peace ever again.

When she got home, she quietly opened the door in case her mom was sleeping in the sitting room. The light filtered in through the windows in a way that basked the room in a golden glow, she thought maybe she would paint it sometime.

Her mom was, in fact, asleep on the couch. MJ tiptoed past and flopped onto her bed. She groaned thinking about all the homework she had—none of it even remotely knowledge-related. She knew she should get started, but she really didn’t want to.

She pulled her bag toward herself anyway.

——————————————————————

Two hours later, Michelle was done with all the getting-to-know-you questionnaires and was perusing her bookshelf. She had quite a few new books checked out from the library, she just didn’t know which one she wanted to read next.

Tap tap tap.

Her head whipped toward the window. There was a masked face hanging upside down outside, red hand tapping on the glass.

MJ rolled her eyes, walking over to the window and opening the latch. She heaved the frame up enough for Spider-man to crawl in and drop onto the floor in a crouch. He stood up. “Fancy seeing you here, Michelle.”

“Hmm, I wonder why that would be,” she quipped. “What do you want this time?” She went back to looking at her bookshelf, running her fingers along the spines until she grabbed one randomly.

“I read The Assistant,” he blurted, reaching a hand up to run his fingers through hair that wasn’t there.

Michelle raised her eyebrows. “What did you think?” She hadn’t much liked the book, to be perfectly honest, only reading it because it was a critically acclaimed story about a jewish deli.

Spider-man shrugged. “I don’t know. It was okay, I guess. I had a really hard time getting behind Frank. There isn’t a sequel, but if there was I don’t think I would read it.”

She looked at him. “You’re a superhero.”

There was a long pause. “…Uh, yeah?”

“And a high schooler.”

“That is also true,” he said tilting his head to the side. “Are we making observations now? Because if we are, that shirt looks good on you.”

MJ rolled her eyes. He was either a shameless flirt in general or the mask made him cocky. Either way, she wasn’t interested. She thought of the way Peter’s cheeks dimpled when he smiled—no, she was definitely not interested. “How do you have time to get through these books when you’re always off saving people—helping the little guy, or whatever the fuck you call it.”

He shrugged. “I read them between ‘helping the little guy’” he said, waving his arms dramatically. “On rooftops and billboards and stuff. Or at school when I’m bored.”

She hummed. “Well, I need to choose another book. Want to help?”

He nodded vigorously, and practically tripped over himself trying to get to where she stood by the bookshelf. For a superhero, he wasn’t very graceful. She smiled to herself, shaking her head, and turned to look at the pile of new books again.  

He pointed at a thick, grey one and said, “This one looks cool.” MJ pulled it from the shelf and read the title Six of Crows followed by the description on the back. His white eyes narrowed at her. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a fantasy reader.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to branch out a bit,” she muttered, cheeks glowing red. She didn’t know why she was embarrassed—she had no reason to be embarrassed—but something about him threw her off. For some reason, she wanted to impress him, and somehow reading a young adult fantasy novel, highly rated or not, seemed like a weak choice after A Secret History or The Assistant.

His eyes followed the blush down to the top of her chest, then flicked back up to her face, which only made her flush more deeply. “Sounds like a great read,” was all he said. “I’ll check it out from the library.”

She looked down at her bare feet, flexing her toes against the soft carpet. When she looked back up, Spider-man was looking around her room. “Nice room. Lots of books.”

She felt herself flush again. God, what was going on with her today? “Yeah, it’s my safe space. You know, I don’t actually let anyone in here—you’re the first person besides my mom or me to set foot in here in years." There was a long pause, then, "What does your room look like?”

“Oh, you know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “just another normal room. Bed, desk, closet, bathroom—the works.”

“What side of the bed do you sleep on?” Michelle asked. She didn’t know what made her say it, but for some reason she wanted to know—maybe it was a way to make him seem more human, less… other.

“The left, why?” He glanced over to her bed which she realized, somewhat belatedly, wasn’t made and had a lacy bra strewn across it.

“No reason,” she muttered. Then, “I sleep on the left too. So does my best friend, but when I sleep over I kick him to the right side.” She chuckled. “His side of the bed smells like him.”

Spider-man coughed, and rocked onto the heels of his feet. He tilted his head to the side. “I have to go,” he said, moving to raise the window again. He slipped out and crawled out of sight.

MJ looked at her bed again, at that black lace bra, and cursed under her breath.