#and their next question always used to be in which engineering college he was studying in or some question already assuming he took up

[merinelsa]

.

[thewulf]

Sir || Aaron Hotchner

Request: Do you think you could do a Hotch x ADHD reader where they are energetic and talkative all day since Aaron came back from a tough case. With the constant questions and comments Aaron gets irritated due to stress and says something like “can you be quiet for 5 seconds please” or “enough with the stupid questions, it’s annoying” and the reader ends up talking less with him and only responds with short answers and they try to suppress their ADHD ticks around him.

A/N: Well, I couldn't sleep on the plane home yesterday and I found a surge of inspo! Had so much fun writing this one. I just adore Hotch! Thanks for the request! @ghostridrr

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k +

You’d never expected to be dating an FBI agent nonetheless fall hopelessly head over heels for the guy in a matter of months. Coming from humble beginnings in a small southern town. Not many people made it out, but you did. You were determined. Determined to get the hell out and never look back. So, you did. You made it happen. Working your ass off through college becoming a civil engineer and finding a job at a firm in Washington DC you quickly found your groove. You worked your way up from an engineer to a manager to a project manager within ten years. Loving your job meant giving your all which didn’t leave much time for your personal life nor a love life. It’s not like you hadn’t tried you were just busy.

 It all hit you on your birthday that you wanted more. You wanted a partner. You wanted to have a life with somebody. For years you put in effort to try. Dating good guys and shitty ones alike. You were about to give it up for good after the years of trying. But the universe had a different plan for you.

It all started so casually on a sunny Monday morning at Quantico. Your firm had been contracted out to completely renovate the old Quantico offices and bring them into the 21st century. You’d absolutely fallen in love with your job, the project manager, over the course of the six months. Between working with the clients, budgeting, staging, and executing the demo and construction you’d found loved. It was the perfect job that kept your busy brain occupied and constantly moving. Always showing up to work with a big cheesy smile on your face and ending the day with an inevitable streak of dirt across your shirt or jeans.

Everything went so smoothly until your crew moved up to the sixth floor. The BAU. Whatever the hell that is. Apparently, nobody had warned the boss man and he wasn’t too thrilled to say the least. You were used to working around the residents of the floor, but this wasn’t starting out to great considering your crew would be working on the floor for the next few months.

“What the hell is all this? Why is there tarp in my conference room?” A strong voice broke you from the planning board you were reviewing with your construction Forman, Eric.

Snapping your head around you made eye contact with possibly the most handsome man you’d ever seen. Of fucking course he had to be hot as hell. This was certainly going to make things way more interesting for you.

Putting on your best smile you slowly walked over to him, hardhat and high visibility vest and all, “I’m so sorry sir. I thought somebody from your leadership would’ve informed you. My crew is starting some demo and renovations on this floor today. We’ll do our best to keep the noise down, but we might have to kick you out of a few spots every now and then.” Trying your best to charm the man with a big smile you only felt intimated when he simply just looked at you. As if he was studying you. Not frowning, not smiling, stoic as hell. You involuntarily took a step back. Intimidating the hell out of you.

He must’ve picked up on your discomfort as his straight-faced gaze softened ever so slightly. He pinched the bridge of his nose as you cocked your head to the side observing him. He must’ve been choosing his words very carefully.

“I don’t have time for this today. I’m sorry.” He sighed in clear frustration. A real frustration you’d seen time and time again on the job.

You frowned. Annoyed at his leadership for failing to tell him you were about to ruin his next few months as your crew worked through the floor. You had to think quick. This was your job after all, “I’ll tell you what sir. We’ll start over on those conference rooms this week. Hopefully that gives you time to sort it out?” You pointed to the rooms on the other side of the office, not the large one his team clearly needed.

He gave you a curt nod. His gaze almost fully softening as you tried to compromise with him still with a genuine smile on your face. Even he had to admit that smile was breaking him down far faster than he would’ve thought possible. He had yet to even look at a woman since Haley’s death, that was years ago now. It freaked him out a little. He’d been so fine on his own. Figuring out a good routine with Jack and Jess. Getting too complacent. He knew it wasn’t fair to Jack. Especially since he was getting to an age where a mom was crucial. Jack needed somebody to lean on and it certainly wasn’t fair to Jess to pick that up.

“It won’t mess your plans up?” The handsome stranger asked you. Your smile grew as you knew he was going to be willing to work with you. More often than not you’d have to get into with whomever was arguing back with you, often the government trying to shut you down. But you knew better. You always had all the permits you needed and knew the rule book like the back of your hand. That’s why you excelled. You never let anybody get the better of you. ADHD was a curse and a blessing at the same damn time.

Shaking your head you continued, “Not at all! That’s construction. You plan, and then it changes 45 times before you actually start. It’s no big deal at all. Really.” You tried to reassure him. He looked embarrassed that he was so upset only a few moments prior. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. You knew you had at least two months of face to face with the guy. Starting off on the wrong foot was the worst thing you and the crew could do.

“I’m sorry. If you wouldn’t mind. We have a crucial case involving some kids…” He stopped himself before he divulged too much. He didn’t want you to get kicked out on his own accord. He knew you only had a clearance to enter the building. Nothing more, nothing less. He wouldn’t risk that at your stake.

“No explanations necessary sir. We’ll find a better day to demo.” You never dropped your smile as you maintained eye contact with him. You found that making sure to look whomever in the eyes always met you with better than looking around, looking scared.

“Aaron. Sir is too formal. Aaron Hotchner. My team, whenever they get here, will call me Hotch. Call me whatever.” He stuck his hand out for you to take. Gently you set your hand in his. You’d always been taught to go for the death grip when shaking hands. It established dominance or some bullshit like that. Especially since you were a woman in such a male dominated field. Working in a man’s world was exhausting. But something struck you as different with the man. So gentle it was.

“Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’m Y/N.” He shook your hand just as gently as you set your hand in his. You weren’t sure if he felt the pull that you felt but you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“It’s nice to meet you to Y/N.” The handshake when on for a little too long. You were positive Eric was going to give you hell for this when you walked back over, “And again, I’m sorry for the outburst. These cases get stressful.”

You laughed a giggle that shouldn’t have come out of your mouth at work. His stoic expression tweaked into a soft smile after hearing your laugh, “Believe me when I say that was tame. The yelling matches I’ve gotten in with men twice my age are too plentiful to count.”

He laughed this time finally dropping your hand, gently of course, “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

You shrugged, “Part of the job. Plus, it’s fun to yell back sometimes.” His small smile grew into a much larger one, eyes crinkling and all. You’d done it. You’d charmed him.

“Hotch!” A female voice came yelling out of the conference room, “Round table, let’s go.” The pretty blonde-haired lady smirked at him before turning back to the room. The two of you failed to see his team file in during the conversation.

He broke his gaze turning around to see his agent vanishing from the doorway, “Got to go. Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

You nodded your head, “Likewise Aaron.”

The rest was literally history. He ended up bringing you some sort of coffee or baked good every morning he was in the office, which you learned very quickly wasn’t all that often. He and his team seemed to be away more than they were actually there. You took advantage of that and fixed their office spaces and conferences rooms right as they left for their trips. You’d check in with Penny to make sure you weren’t in the way when they got back.

Small chit chats in the morning turned to lunch “dates” as Eric so kindly called them. You’d refused to call them as such, not ever truly able to gauge whether he was actually interested in you or not. You tried to make it as blatantly obvious as possible, but he was Aaron. Calm, cool and collected. The two of you had even been the butt of office jokes as you got closer. You didn’t seem to care though. It felt too good with him to give whatever you had up.

Lucky for you those lunch dates turned to dinner dates and before you knew it you were meeting Jack and spending time at his place. Weeks turned to months, and you were spending almost every night at the Hotchner’s. You and Jack were getting along as thick as thieves. Aaron even trusting you to watch him while he was gone. You made Jack promise not to tell his daddy that you gave him ice cream almost every night. It was a secret between the two of you.

Jack was off on a summer camp, and you’d just wrapped up the Quantico project leaving you far too bored sitting at Aaron’s place. So, you did what you always did when you had nothing to do. You cranked up the music and started cleaning. It was a Tuesday morning, and you really weren’t expecting Aaron to get back from his case. It was a long one out in Colorado. He never gave you the specifics, but he sounded horribly upset each night when he was on the phone with you. Distracted and distraught.

You hadn’t heard the door open and close as you were upstairs cleaning. But when your music abruptly stopped you hightailed it downstairs to get it going again. To your surprise your boyfriend was standing at the kitchen island rubbing his temples. You should’ve known there that he wasn’t going to be in the best of moods.

“Hon.” You grinned ear to ear seeing him standing there, “Your home! How was the trip? Happy to be home? I missed you tons. Especially with Jack being gone, I haven’t had anybody to talk to.” You wrapped your arms around his front, hugging him from behind. You were usually really good at picking up on social cues, but you must’ve been too damn excited to see him to pick up on his mood.

“Y/N.” He gave you a half smile before squeezing your hands tightly but gently. Like he was afraid of losing you.

“Aaron.” You let go of him brushing the now overgrown hair out of his face, “Are you alright? Was the trip okay? I just missed you so much. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad. I’ve really gotten used to having Jack around. I wish you didn’t have to go so often.” You admitted.

He sighed a deep one, “It was a tough case.” Was all he gave you. You should’ve known there that he wasn’t going to give you much else. But your stupid ass brain decided to ignore the cues. It wasn’t really your fault that it bounced around so quickly. You’d even taken your meds today. It was something about Aaron that seemed to break anything those meds were holding back.

“Want to talk about it? I know you never do but it could be good for you. You know? It’s not great to hold that kind of stuff in. It’ll eat away at you.” You just wanted him to be the Aaron you knew. Not the ball of stress standing before you.

He shook his head, “Not this time.”

“You sure? You look upset hon. I don’t like to see you like that.” You continued not noticing him closing his eyes. Surely more than irritated with you at the moment. But were you going to catch that? Nope.

“Positive.”

You nodded, “Alright. If you say so. Are you hungry? I can whip you up some lunch…”

He interrupted you before you could go on whatever long winded rant you had built up, “Y/N, can you be quiet for five seconds please? I’m trying to think.” You were turned away from him and didn’t see the immediate regret that washed over his face. He didn’t really mean it he just needed you to stop for a moment. He wasn’t expecting you to be home and wasn’t ready for the bombardment of questions. After cases that involved so many deaths it took him a moment to come back around. He needed a second to himself. The job was hard and you knew that.

And with that you felt your heart deflate right then and there. The smile that hadn’t dropped since he came home immediately vanished without a trace. Your happy eyes immediately dropping and filling with hot, wet tears that desperately wanted to spill over. You’d been with him for almost half a year and that had yet to come out of his mouth. It took you by surprise, to say the least.

“I’m so sorry.” You squeaked out before walking out of the kitchen hastily. You weren’t good with conflict. Always running away from it.

He knew he fucked up. You weren’t overly sensitive, but he knew what he said was over the line. Especially since you were simply trying to help him. But he also needed that moment. So, he shamefully let you sit upstairs with your thoughts. You had an issue of letting things ruminate in your head for far too long.

Letting the tears fall you continued to clean the bathroom in silence. Why were you like this? As soon as you got comfortable with someone you seemed to ruin it with your dumb ass brain. You should’ve known he was exhausted. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks. Cases never ended well when he was gone for over a week let alone two. You should’ve backed off the second he started giving you short answers. Stupid stupid brain ruining everything.

Once you finished you thought it best to spend some time back at your own apartment. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him into breaking up with you. Tip towing downstairs you found him asleep on the couch. Biting your lip, you scribbled a note letting him know you went home making a dumb excuse that your friend needed you. As much as you wanted to spend the night with him, he clearly needed it alone.

It wasn’t long after you got home that your phone buzzed. Looking down you saw Aaron was calling. Deciding it best to give him space you decided not to pick up. When it rang for a second time you answered, “Hey.” Why were those stupid tears threatening to spill again?

“Sweetheart where are you?”

You frowned, “Home. Emma needed some help with a dress.” You partially lied. Your friend Emma really did need help hemming her dress, something you were oddly good at. But she wasn’t coming over until the weekend.

“Oh, are you coming back after? We can make Spaghetti, your favorite.” You knew this was his attempt to apologize. Quickly realizing in the relationship that Aaron was a quality time kind of guy, his true love language.

Should you? You weren’t feeling great about the whole thing and a night away might make the heart grow fonder, “I don’t think so Aaron. I’m tired and she’ll be over for a while.” Another lie. You hated doing this to him but you just couldn’t confront it head on. It just wasn’t something you were ready for.

“Oh, okay.” He sounded sad. It made your heart lurch just thinking about it, “Come over tomorrow after work?”

“Yeah, sure.” You knew you were being short with him but God, you just didn’t want to annoy him. A specialty you’d seemed to master.

“Everything alright sweetheart?”

Everything was not alright, “Yeah, just a bit tired. I should get going, she’s almost here.” You hardly heard the confirmation on the other end of the phone before you hung up on him.

You didn’t sleep well nor work great the next morning. Aarons comments ringing in your ears over and over again. When it came time to go home you took his route home. Knowing you had to confront this at some point. Aaron would make you. He always did. As bad as he was with words, he always made sure to talk things out.

Somehow, his black SUV was parked in the driveway. You had an inkling feeling he was going to beat you home no matter what. He might’ve even taken the day off today. Walking through the front door you found Aaron in the kitchen cutting up some tomatoes.

“Sweetheart.” He smiled while dropping the knife and walking over to you. Wrapping you in a tight hug he made sure to give you an extra squeeze. He was a profiler after all, he knew something was amiss.

“Hi.” You mumbled in his chest. Breathing him in completely you let your eyes close as you leaned into him. He was clearly trying to make it up to you now, might as well let him.

“Have a good day?” He asked while prying you away from his chest.

Shaking your head you decided to answer honestly. The little white lies you told yesterday making you feel gross, “No, not really.” Yawning you leaned your head back into his chest.

He starting brushing through your hair with his fingers having an inkling as to why, but he needed to know for sure. He hated hurting you. You were nothing but sweet to him and he returned it by snapping at you? He’d done it to Jack as well. He knew it was something he needed to work on even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

“And why’s that?” He asked softly making sure not to startle you.

“Didn’t sleep great. Then my boss decided to put me on the worst project. Pipes.” You sighed. It wasn’t an attack on you, every project manager had to have a hellish utility job. You were just next on the list. It couldn’t have come at a worse time though. Pipe work meant constant oversight, and anything could shut the project down. Tedious and annoying but necessary, you knew it.

“I’m sorry honey.” He confined brushing through your hair.

“It’s fine.” You signed closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat. You weren’t in the mood to talk which was strange for you. You always wanted to talk. To dive a little deeper. Understand him a bit more. But you weren’t feeling it. Was it actually your mood or were you just terribly self-conscious now? You refused to ask that question as you shoved it to the back of your mind.

“You sure it’s fine? You’re awfully quiet. I miss my chatty girl.” He knew he needed to apologize. He should’ve just spit it out already. But he wanted to see if he could see if it was anything more. He’d never seen you so down and out. You were always there with a smile and seeing you so sad had him worried. Had he done that to you? Did you not sleep because of him?

You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, ‘M just…” You paused. Was it really worth not telling the whole truth? Aaron would figure it out. He probably already had. He was doing that profiler shit on you now. As annoying as it was you grew to love it. It was him. You loved him. Everything about the man intrigued you, “Tired.” You finished. Not the whole truth and you knew it.

“Honey.” He kept brushing through your hair knowing how much it calmed you.

Feeling a little surge of bravery, you looked up to him, “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dismiss you yesterday.” He paused giving you a brief kiss on your forehead but not giving you enough time to respond before he continued, “I love all your questions. I really do. It’s just this last case was rough. And I know that’s no excuse to treat you like that. It’s just… this guy. He targeted women that looked just like you. It’s been an awful two weeks. I just miss you. Please stay?”

“Oh Aaron,” You frowned but squeezed him tightly, “I’m so sorry. If I had known…”

“I should’ve told you. Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing.” He kissed your forehead again holding it there. Just holding you in his arms.

Feeling so safe and secured in his arms made you feel every emotion all at once. Thrilled that he still felt the same about you. Embarrassed you took it so personally. Scared you would mess this up. So in love with the guy who recognized so easily what was bothering you. It was all too much for you. You couldn’t try to stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks even if you tried.

Aaron pried you away from him taking your head in his hands. Softly he wiped away the tears with his thumbs with a sad look on his face, “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” His eyes searched your face for anything. His heart breaking just a little more seeing your hurt expression across ever feature.

Nodding, that’s all you could do. Absolutely you accepted his apology. He was so sincere with it you know he meant everything with his entire heart, “It’s okay.” You managed to choke out between breaths. After a moment the tears finally stopped. You’d normally be horrified by the sudden outburst but with him you weren’t. You knew he had you.

“It’s really not. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” He assured you wiping away the final tears.

“Thank you, Aaron.”

He pulled you back into him, “I’m not perfect but I promise you I’ll try.”

“I know that.” You beamed up at him. You felt so much better. Words always helped, running away never did.

“I love you, my dear.” He smiled down at you while rocking you back in forth in his arms.

“And you know, I love you too.”

Taglist: @twilightlover2007 @morgthemagpie @ashie-babie @buckybarnessweetheart @wendy234678 @adhdannieedison @emilykolchivans @aurabambi @pipecleanerweyesfp @simp4f1 @ghostridrr @sunflowers-4

[daisynik7]

you’re killing me with all this angst!! 😭 any possible unrequited but happy ending with Eren when you have the time and will? Or just anything fluffy really, just to put a dinosaur print bandaid on all the broken hearts 😭

🎶 You've got my heart bursting at the seams, maybe you're the boy of my dreams. 🎶

Title: Dream Boy

Pairing: jock!Eren x shy!reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

cw: unrequited crush, fluff, college au

Summary: You’ve had a crush on Eren Jaeger for a while now. He’s the captain of your university’s swim team who also happens to be a fellow engineering major, like you. For months, you’ve admired from afar, letting yourself daydream about being his girlfriend. But that’s all it is: fantasy. Until one day, when you’re invited to a beach outing with friends, and he happens to be there too. 

Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request, anon! Going with a common trope here, hope you don’t mind! I’ve always been a sucker for popular jock x shy nerd, so I hope you like this one! Also, fair warning, I have never surfed in my life, and I had to do some research on this, so major apologies if I got any of these details wrong, please don’t be mean to me LOL. Title is inspired by the song "Dream Boy" by Beach Bunny! Listen if you want to set the mood right. Divider credit to @/saradika.

With the weather getting warmer and the sun shining brighter, a trip to the beach sounds like the perfect idea to get away. Midterms just ended and finals are fast approaching in a few weeks. This is the only weekend when it makes sense to relax before you have to start the grind once more.  

It’s your roommate, Sasha, who originally plans this little weekend getaway. When you’re not too busy studying, you’re hanging out with her. She’s become your closest friend since you first lived with her freshman year, always friendly and making the effort to include you in all her social affairs, even when you decline so often. Through her, you met Mikasa and Annie, who have been nothing but kind to you, despite having strong personalities. You’re excited to get to know them even better by going on this trip with them.

With Annie’s car packed with all of your belongings, the four of you set out on the hour-long journey. Mikasa offered her parent’s beach house to stay at which works out perfectly for broke college students. Using your meal plans, you collectively purchased enough snacks and beverages to last the next two nights. So far, everything is working out swimmingly. 

You arrive to your destination, stoked to be spending the weekend with the beach as your backyard. Mikasa points out the other car parked in the driveway, groaning. “Oh no. Eren’s here. And he probably brought the rest of the boys.”

Sasha turns to face her. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“That’s his car. And those are their surfboards on the rack. They’re definitely here.”

Your roommate directs her question at you. “Are you okay with this?”

You smile, a little taken aback that you’ll be sharing a home with a few strangers, but fine overall. “Yeah, should be fun. By the way, who’s Eren?”

“Eren Jaeger, my brother.”

Upon hearing his full name, you do your best to swallow the strangled noise in your throat, playing it cool. Eren Jaeger? Captain of the school’s swim team? Fellow engineering student and your classmate for two of your current courses, three last semester? The guy you’ve had the hugest crush on since you first laid eyes on him freshmen year, when you used to live a floor above him? That Eren Jaeger? 

“Oh, cool,” you say, totally not meaning it. Still, you have to keep your composure. Knowing this information has you feeling self-conscious. You didn’t pack your best clothes, under the impression this was just a girl’s trip. And you realize that he might see you in your swimsuit, which you’re horrified about. Internally, you’re freaking out, unprepared for this recent development. You contemplate calling a taxi, faking an illness to avoid any possible embarrassment you’ll display in front of him. Before you can, Sasha drags you into the house, both your bags in hand, announcing your arrival. “Eren! We know you’re in here!”

Mikasa and Annie follow, carrying the rest of the luggage with them, inspecting the house. “Hey, Jaeger. Get out here,” Annie demands.

He strolls in from one of the hallways, hair down, in a white t-shirt and basketball shorts, slides on his feet. Looking as cool and attractive as ever. You hide behind Sasha, cheeks already hot. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks Mikasa, placing a hair tie between his lips, fingers running through his hair to put it up in a ponytail. 

“Carla and Grisha said I could use the house for the weekend. What are you doing here?”

“Brought the boys to surf and chill. I guess I should have asked Mom and Dad first.” He shrugs, unfazed.

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “You should have told me you were coming. I have guests.”

He glances at the rest of you. “So? It’s just Sasha and Annie. What’s the big deal?”

“My roommate’s here too!” Sasha mentions, stepping aside to reveal you. “And it’s weird sharing a house with boys!” 

You give him a small wave, a weak grin on your face. “Hello.”

He steps towards you, squinting as if he’s studying you carefully. “Hey! It’s you!”

You blurt out a confused, “Huh?”

He says your full name, shocking you further, before he continues. “You’re in my class. Physics and Materials Science, right?”

You’re surprised that he recognizes you, that he even knows your name. Up until this point, you were convinced that you were invisible to him. You nod, momentarily speechless when he smiles at you. “I’m sorry for showing up like this. We can leave if you want us to.”

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Annie comments, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Before anyone else can speak, you say, “It’s okay. You don’t have to leave.” If you’re going to grow up and move on from this crush, you can’t chicken out on things like this. And besides, you don’t want to be the one person who ruins all the fun. 

“Are you sure? It’s not a big deal. It’s just an hour drive. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. The more the merrier, right?”

He grins. “As long as you’re okay with this.”

Mikasa, on the other hand, says, “Well, what if I’m not okay with this.”

“Fine. Then you be the one to kick out Jean. He was really looking forward to surfing today.” At the mention of that name, Mikasa blushes, not responding. The rest of you girls have an idea about Mikasa’s crush on Jean, so it’s not surprising when she doesn’t pester Eren anymore. Even Annie’s eyes light up when Armin comes out of one of the rooms, greeting you. 

After settling in, everyone gathers in the living room, planning what to do next. Collectively, you agree to head outside to relax on the beach while the boys surf. You try to contain your excitement at seeing Eren in a skin-tight body suit, holding onto the giant board, hair tied in a messy bun like a male model for Billabong. 

You lay towels and blankets all around the sand, setting up umbrellas to block out the blistering sun. Annie dumps all the snacks in the middle, while the four of you stretch out comfortably. You hide yourself under a towel, self-conscious about in a bathing suit in front of Eren, who probably doesn’t notice anyways. 

Sasha plays music on her Bluetooth speaker while you and Mikasa open your books, reading. Annie watches a movie on her phone, headphones plugged in. An hour later, Eren comes running up from the shore, dripping with ocean water, hair matted, still gorgeous. He glances at you first, flashing his brilliant smile. “Hey, do you want to try?” He knocks his fist against the surfboard, waiting for your answer.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be good at it. In fact, I think I’ll be very, very bad at it,” you admit.

“It’s okay. I can just show you how to sit on it. We won’t actually ride the big waves. You know how to swim, right?”

You nod, placing your book in your bag. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up, especially since it means quality time with him. However, you can’t help but feel nervous, expecting to make a fool of yourself. Sasha encourages you. “You should go try it! It’ll be fun.”

Mikasa adds, “Yeah, Eren is surprisingly a good teacher.”

Convinced, you stand up, hesitantly letting the towel fall to expose yourself in your swimsuit. You avoid his gaze, too flustered worrying about what he thinks of you. He leads the way to the shore, you following close behind him. The rest of the guys sit on the sand next to their boards, chatting. When they see you, they wave, giving you some motivating thumbs up. 

Eren turns to face you, pausing. “First, you have to attach the leash.” He squats down, hands near your foot, peering up at you. “Do you mind?”

Unaware of what the leash even is, you remain calm, trying to ignore your excitement with him this close to your bare skin. “Go ahead.”

He wraps the Velcro around your ankle, fingers brushing against you delicately. He readjusts it three times, asking on the third, “Is this too tight?”

“No,” you answer, still staring out towards the sea, unable to meet his gaze.

He stands back up to explain the basics of surfing. It’s all too much to retain in a short amount of time, but you listen and appreciate how well he describes each step, memorizing the most important details. 

“We should practice getting on the board first before we enter,” he suggests, placing it flat on the sand, beckoning you to get on it. “Just lay on it, face down, and get used to how it feels against your body.” You get down, pressing your stomach to the deck, gripping to the sides. 

“Good job.” He squats again, level with you. “Once we’re in the water, you’re gonna want to move fast. You have to push the board forward against the force of the waves, then quickly hop on. It might be a little tough, but I know you can do it. The waves are strong, so if you can’t get the timing right, make sure you lift your board up with the peak and hold on tight, so that you don’t get dragged with it.”

You nod, getting increasingly anxious. With the information locked in your brain, you follow Eren into the ocean, board floating steadily on the surface, your hand on the center. He isn’t exaggerating; the waves are intense, even the tiny ones close to shore. Once you are waist deep, Eren, who’s farther away from you now, turns up the volume of his voice louder, cupping one hand around his mouth, the other pointing to the incoming wave. “It’s coming!”

It approaches fast, almost too quickly. Before you know it, the force drags you backwards, falling in. Wet from head to toe now, you resurface, grabbing the board to reposition yourself, grasping both the tail and the deck, remembering his instructions from earlier. 

“Are you okay?” he yells out, concerned.

“Yeah!” you respond, preparing for the next one. With more determination and confidence, you push forward, hopping on successfully when the wave rushes in. 

“Great job!” he exclaims from behind you. Your chest swells with adrenaline and pride. There’s no time to waste as the next wave approaches. The next task is to straddle. You get in a push-up pose, grasping the side rails. It’s not enough though; it slides out from under you, knocking you back, a stream of salty water flushing your nose causing you to choke momentarily. Eren ruses over as fast as he can, waddling in the water, worried. “Are you okay?”

You laugh, an electrifying buzz coursing through your body. “Yeah! Let me try again.”

He smiles brightly, amused by your resolve. “Okay. Hold on really tight and make sure to slide the board slightly forward as you sit up.”

It takes you a couple more tries, salt water now burning your nose and throat, until you finally manage to straddle the board. You raise your fists in the air, turning your neck to face him. “I did it!”

Beaming, mimicking your celebratory gesture, he happily yells, “You did!” When the waves come, you and the board flow with it, bobbing up and down on the water. After minutes of struggling, covered in sweat, dripping with ocean water, you finally feel at peace. You enjoy riding a few more waves, dehydration slowly sinking in, surely from all the salt you’ve unintentionally swallowed. You glance at Eren, who’s watching you from a short distance away. “I think I’m good for the day! I need some water.”

He walks over, standing next to you. “Oh yeah, definitely. Great job, by the way. That was awesome seeing you like that.” He pats you gently on your knee, grinning. 

You giggle. “Thank you. So, uh, how do I get off this thing?”

“Well, this is going to the last thing I teach you, okay? You’re going to paddle out and towards the shore. Think you can do it?”

With whatever leftover determination you have, you nod, leaning your chest down to the board. He helps you readjust yourself so that you’re facing the sands. “The wave is coming! Get ready to paddle!”

Like a dog trying to swim, you flail your arms as if your life depends on it, successfully riding the wave until it comes to a stop on the shore. Armin, Connie, and Jean, witnessing this still sat in the same spot, cheer. When you stand up, your equilibrium is all off, losing balance. Luckily, Eren runs up to catch you, steadying you. “That was awesome. You did so good!”

Catching your breath, tired from all the physical exertion and adrenaline, you breathe out, “Thank you,” giving him a weak smile. The two of you walk to the rest of your friends, Eren’s hand on your back, in case you lose balance again. As you approach the girls, they applaud, beaming with joy. 

“That was epic!” Sasha exclaims, handing you a water bottle. 

Suddenly, he’s gripping your shoulders, squeezing affectionately. “She’s the best. Never gave up, totally committed.” He turns his head to look at you, voice lower, speaking directly to you. “You were really great out there. I mean it. I never doubted you for a second. You’re the smartest person in class, so I knew this would be a piece of cake for you.”  

His last statement almost leaves you speechless. Voice trembling from exhaustion and his kind words, you reply, “Thank you. You’re a really great teacher.”

He gazes at you, seemingly forever, sliding his hands down to your elbows, lingering for just a moment longer until he lets you go. Clearing his throat, he announces, “I’m going to catch a few more waves with the guys. I’ll see y’all later.” Is it your imagination or is there a slight blush on his cheeks? It’s most likely from the sun, so you disregard it, not wanting to get your hopes up. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing beside your friends, like you had originally planned. The novel you started earlier is open in your hands, your mind definitely not focused on the words. Instead, you daydream about Eren, relishing what just occurred. All those times in class, fantasizing about different scenarios with him, always convinced that nothing would ever happen. Now, you can’t help letting your imagination run rampant. Still, when you all pack up to take the short trip back to the house, you let those fantasies disappear. There’s no way he feels anything for you beyond friendship. And you’ll just have to live with that. 

Later in the night, with everyone sun-kissed and clean from beach residue, you collectively decide to get cozy in your pajamas. Mikasa ignites the fire pit out on the balcony, perfect for the cool breeze. When four boxes of pizza are delivered, the eight of you huddle around the flames, enjoying the meal as you laugh at the stories being shared. Connie tells a hilarious tale about him and Jean streaking in the dead of night for a dare that resulting in almost exposing themselves to the university’s president. Annie mentions her roommate, Hitch, and how she slapped a creeper at a frat party, who wouldn’t stop annoying her. Sasha asks for advice on how to approach her crush, Nicolo, the young chef at the campus cafeteria who makes her breakfast burritos especially tasty. 

After a while, Eren suggests, “How about some s’mores? I brought the ingredients to make them. What do you say?”

Everyone hums in agreement. He directs his attention to you. “Can you help me in the kitchen?”

You obliged, surprised that he chose you specifically. Following him, you slide the door closed, quiet inside the house except for the muffled voices of your friends outside. In the kitchen, he reaches up for one of the cabinets, grabbing two bags of marshmallows, two big bricks of chocolate, and a box of graham crackers. In another drawer, he retrieves metal sticks to roast the marshmallows. In the meantime, you search for a large baking tray, eventually retrieving it from the oven. “Maybe we can set everything up on here so that It’s easier.”

He smiles at you. “Good idea.”

At the counter, you start unwrapping the chocolate, breaking them into sectioned pieces. Eren does the same with the graham crackers, the two of you working beside each other in a comfortable silence. Halfway through, he asks, “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun! Thank you again. I really had a blast.”

“I did too. It was a lot of fun hanging out with you today.”

“Maybe next time, I can actually learn how to surf for real,” you say, not thinking anything of it. 

He leans closer to you, arm brushing yours as you lay out the chocolate on the pan. “Yeah, next time.”

It’s silent again. You finish the chocolate, washing your hands clean to move on to the marshmallows. One bag in your hand, the other in Eren’s. “So, um, do you have a boyfriend or something?”

This catches you off guard. “No, I don’t.”

“Cool, cool, cool. I’m single too. In case you were wondering.” You’ve never heard this type of nervous energy in his voice before. It’s unusual to hear him like this. You’re unsure how to respond, unprepared for where this conversation is possibly heading. 

“Well, if you ever need someone to study with, I’m always available. The season is over, and I get tired of my teammates sometimes,” he says with a laugh.

“Do you want to study with me?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“I’d like to do a lot of things with you, actually.” There’s an undeniable blush on his cheeks as he pours the remaining marshmallows onto the tray. This can’t be just a sunburn, can it? 

Butterflies flutter in your belly. You look at him, smiling. You can’t chicken out now. Not when he’s giving you this chance, this opportunity. You need to go for it. “Can I be honest with you?”

He faces you, eager. “Of course.”

Sucking in a deep breath for this leap of faith, you confess. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since freshman year.”

His smile widens, brilliant teeth on display. “What? When we used to live at Reiss?”

“You remember?” Your mouth hangs open, shocked that he recalls living in the same dorm as you. 

“Yeah, I do,” he answers. “You’re a hard one to forget.”

“I thought I was invisible.”

He shifts closer, tipping his head to meet your eyes. “Not to me.”

You face him, understanding that he’s always noticed you. He leans forward, lips inches from yours. “Can I be honest with you, too?” You nod, desperate to hear what he has to say.

Even closer now, lips grazing your ear, breath ticklish on your skin, he whispers, “I really like you. I’ve always been too nervous to do anything. I thought you’d only see me as a dumb jock.”

Immediately, you pull back, replying, “Never! I never thought that of you! I think you’re so smart.”

He laughs, eyes crinkled with admiration. “I think you’re so smart, too. And really, really cute.” 

You stare at each other for a moment, wishing this would last forever. Wanting to pinch yourself to confirm this is real. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” The pink hue on his cheeks gradually turns into a red.

A little too eager, you respond, “Yes!”, resulting in him giggling again, pressing his forehead to yours. The contact sets your skin on fire, body tingling with a different type of adrenaline than from earlier. With your eyes shut, you close the gap, lips brushing seamlessly into a delicate kiss. His hand slides behind your neck, sending you shivers as he pulls you in closer.

Suddenly, there’s loud banging on the sliding door, startling you two apart. Mikasa and Annie have their fists on the glass, yelling out something incoherent, Armin tugging on their sleeves in an attempt to stop them. Connie, Jean, and Sasha holler with huge grins on their faces. 

Eren laughs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond, smiling at him. 

You gaze at each other for another couple of seconds, cherishing this special moment before returning outside to your friends, carrying the goods. They all talk at once, hyped about what they just witnessed, berating you with loads of questions and advice. You and Eren sit beside each other, politely redirecting each inquiry and comment until your friends get tired of non-answers, eventually changing the subject. He lays out a warm blanket for the both of you, legs covered, knees touching while everyone begins to roast their marshmallows.

By the time the s’mores are completely assembled, mouths sticky and full of ooey-gooey sweetness, you and Eren munch on your treats happily, holding hands beneath the blanket. 

[gorouenjoyer]

-Differences-

 We’re not too different 

A fanfic mildly inspired by kamiverse’s tfl

(half cannon universe half modern au)

Themes - Romance, angst, smut, betrayal

Pairings - Gorou×reader, Lyney×reader, Neuvillette×reader, Zhongli×reader, Albedo×reader, Scaramouche×reader, Tartaglia×reader

Warnings- virgin!reader, Lyney is kinda a slut?-college!Lyney, college!Lynette, college!reader, collage!furina

Smut will be next chapter I promise<3

Opposites attract right?

We’re really different. Lyney and I have been friends since FOREVER, he was an orphan who was adopted and raised by this figure he calls “father” from what I’ve heard father is a fatui harbinger who was apparently a fellow Fontainian 

We met because I saw Lyney on the street one day doing some fun magic tricks. He wasn't very well dressed so I’d thought that I would talk to him, maybe even help him out if he needed food as my family was well off enough to donate to charity.

Lyney seemed harsh at first glance, it turns out that day his twin sister Lynette got taken away by aristocrats. So that day I made a promise to be by his side forever and make sure nothing bad ever happens to him or his sister ever again!

I lost contract with Lyney after that and during that time he got adopted by “father” and my mom lost her high paying job for a “undisclosed” reason

Now we’re both in our early 20s and in college, all three of us are studying at “La institution de fontaine éducationnel” or IFÉ. Lyney is studying acting as he’s trying to perform at “la opera epiclese” at some point while Lynette is studying engineering as she is hoping to help her brother cut costs by doing repairs herself. 

Lyney has always been extroverted and quite charming so Lynette is always complaining to you about how her brother has another girlfriend or boyfriend which you always respond to with complaining about how you're always single. 

One day however you’re complaining to Lyney himself about being single while he visits your dorm which leads to an interesting conversation about a way to potentially solve that…

“What? You’re still single with your looks?” Lyney asks while leaning on the wall“WAIT! Does that mean you’re a virgin?” he taunts with a big dumb smirk glued on his face

“W-well uhm- Y'know what? That’s a really weird and uhm, invasive? YEAH invasive question to ask a female friend” you manage to stutter out with as much confidence as possible in this situation

Lyney laughs and offers you a bet, “If you end up sleeping with 5 men by the end of the summer I’ll offer you 200k, but the catch is that you aren’t allowed to fall in love with them. You have to sleep with 5 men, no strings attached” you stare at him  with  confusion while wondering how serious he is but then Lyney adds with a smile “Y’know what for every man after the 5th I’ll add another 50k” 

Lyney extends his hand forward for a handshake “deal?” you think for a moment wondering if this is really worth it. You don’t have enough money to finish your course and with 200K+ you’ll have enough to finish your last 2 years of university, maybe even enough to spoil yourself a bit with new clothing and makeup. 

The only problem was the time frame, you’ll only have 4 months for 5 guys? Surely I can’t do that right? I haven’t slept with a single guy for what? 20 something years?  How can I sleep with 5 in such a short timeframe?

After a lot of consideration you decide to take up his offer so you reach out your hand, but suddenly in a random act of courage or stupidity you add “I’ll accept your offer but on one condition, you’ll be the first guy” Lyney looks taken aback? Confused? Uncertain? No idea, but what you can notice is the light reddining of his cheeks.

“What? Are you repulsed by the idea Lyney? How rude” you questioned in a jokey tone

Lyney’s eyes widened in shock “No no, not AT ALL. I was just surprised you asked in such a uncharacteristically bold manner” he exclaims in mild panic

“So when do you want this to happen?” he asks awkwardly

“Oh uhm.. Sooner the better I think but probably not tonight? You respond while fiddling your thumbs “Maybe in a few days? Y’know what I’ll message you!” you decide 

After Lyney quickly and awkwardly leaves you message your best friend and roomie, Furina

10:48PM

-reader-: GIRLY YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT JUST HAPPENED

-Furina-: Did your lonely ass finally get a boyfriend?

-reader-: BETTER THAN THAT

-Furina-: WHAT? REALLY? DID YOU WIN THE LOTTERY?

-reader-: Ok just combine the last two ideas

-Furina-: YOUR ASS GOT A SUGAR DADDY??? HOW OLD???

-reader-: TF NO? 

-Furina-: I give up ;-;

-reader-: LYNEY SAID HE’LL GIVE ME 200K TO SLEEP WITH 5 MEN BEFORE THE SUMMER

-Furina-: WHAT?? ARE YOU GONNA DO IT???

-reader-: YEAH PROBABLY AND ON TOP OF THAT HE SAID HE’LL BE THE FIRST ONE :333

-Furina-: NO WAYYYYY SERIOUSLY? HE’S ACTUALLY SO FINE? I’M JEALOUS GIRL-

-reader-: You have a boyfriend who’s house you’re at right. now. HOW ARE YOU JEALOUS?

-Furina-: Uhm we don’t talk about thatttt, ANYWAYS GTG LOVE YOU POOKIE GL

-reader-: BYEEEEE<3333

You put down your phone for the night and decide to get ready for bed but while your trying to sleep all you can think of is what transpired today

When you wake up it’s already kind of late but your roommate isn’t back yet so you text her

11:17AM

-reader-: Hey wanna meet up at that cafe down the street later? Maybe at 12:30 if that’s good with you?

11:52

-Furina-: GIRL- I'M SO SORRY I SLEPT IN

-Furina-: 12:30 works BUT ALSO I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU WHEN WE GET THERE

-reader-: OMG OK SEE YOU >:3

A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG >W< I really wanted to get the pacing right for this fic cause I feel like I rush things

[gavisuntiedboot]

Gavi in love with an author or astrophysicist?

A/N: Welcome back to another installment of boot on the bus!! Because of the F1 kick I’ve been on, it took everything in me not to change this to an engineer :,) so we went with author

~~

“Thank you so much for joining us! We at Blaugrana Publishing are delighted to welcome y/n, author of the NYT best-selling series “Instinctual”, to unveil her newest work.”

A loud, thunderous applause filled the hall, as 200 people cheered while you waved back, placing your hands on your chest to express the immense gratitude you felt for everyone that had supported your book.

You had started your debut novel “Instinctual” when you were in college, eager to turn all of your experiences into inspiration for a doomed love between a headstrong physics girl and and an idiotic business boy, who didn’t realize what he had until she had slipped between his fingers. Your publisher has taken a huge risk on you, but had backed you regardless to support ‘budding local talent’. The booktokers instantly fell in love with toxic, spicy romance that you weaved in your pages, which gave the publishers enough confidence for you to continue writing your series.

You had decided that your protagonists next love interest was going to be a footballer, prompting you to start researching footballers, watching interviews, and just learning their general mannerisms. Your publishing group had gotten you a media pass to La Masía, allowing your to interview players and watch games to get a full character study. You had every intention of making this footballer an ass - someone who would use your protagonist when convenient and abandon her for the “love of the game” when the time came.

Sitting in the stands of a La Masía match against the Sevilla football academy, you were hurriedly scribbling notes into the pages of your journal, taking in the sights, sounds, and interview responses from the players to get a full picture. You registered when someone had sat down next to you, but made no motion to look up or acknowledge their presence. About 15 minutes into the game, the person beside you tapped your shoulder. Looking up at him, your eyes met his honey ones, bright in the afternoon sun. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before.

“Sorry, if you’re going to spend the game doing homework, do you mind switching with my friend sitting behind you? We want to watch the match.”

The question had thrown you off guard. You looked the teenage boy up and down, unimpressed by his laid back demeanor. He and his friend beside him had spent the entire game muttering in hushed, angry tones. You didn’t see why they needed to add a third commentator.

“Sorry, but I’m taking notes of the game for my book. If your friend wanted my seat, he should have bought this ticket.”

“We never buy tickets for La Masía games.” He responded, sounding genuinely surprised by your suggestion. His friend beside him nodded.

“Then how did you three get in? Did you hop the fence?”

“No, we used to train here.And even if we didn’t- they always let the first team players in for free. ” The boy responded, eyes flicking between you and the game on the field.

Your eyes widened - you had struck gold. Actual first team, professional footballers to help you with your book. The excitement flooded your brain, and you spoke faster than you could think.

“Could I get your number?”

The three boys all turned to you, the one beside you confused, the other two holding back giggles.

“Usually don’t give my number to fans. Sorry.”

“I literally have no idea who you are.”

This statement made the two observers burst out laughing, unable to contain their mirth at what had just transpired between you two. The boys introduced themselves as Gavi, Ansu, and Alenjandro. Gavi begrudgingly accepted handing over his number, taunts from his friends heard for the remainder of the match about how was “still unknown” and living in someone named Pedri’s shadow.

Over the next several weeks, you messaged Gavi almost daily while writing, asking him about football, his personal life, the team dynamics - everything.

“Do fans give you their numbers often?” You asked, phone held up to your ear with your shoulder as you typed vigorously.

“Yeah, more often than not. Sometimes they’ll throw it into Pedri’s car as we drive home. Actually, there was this one time I was doing a signing at the team store and this girl slipped me her number. I didn’t want to embarrass her so I just took it and held onto it. There’s a video everywhere of it happening. Apparently I have amazing rizz?”

You laughed into the phone, taking a break from typing just to imagine Gavi, awkwardly accepting a paper slip, being turned into the master of getting girls. It had become a routine for you to call Gavi in the evenings, usually to ask about the character. But at some point it just morphed into calls about your days, your lives, your frustrations. It went on like this for two months. One evening, as you sat jotting down title ideas, you asked Gavi:

“Can I ask you something kinda personal?”

A pause.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Where would you take a girl out on a date?”

There was silence on the other side of the line for so long you had to make sure the call didn’t drop. After this long pause, he cleared his throat and said, “Well, how much do I like her?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well like if it’s a girl I found on instagram and I just think she’s pretty, then she’s meeting me at whatever club I’m going to with the boys. But if I’ve known her for a while and I like her, then it’s different. There’s this one kind of whole in the wall place near the stadium, it’s just- actually wait. What are you doing tonight?”

“Huh?”

“What’re you doing tonight? If you’re free, I can just show you rather than try and describe.”

You froze momentarily. You had noticed the dynamic shifting between you and Gavi, but that was just phone banter- nothing serious, nothing real. What he was proposing (a date) would shift the paradigm of the two of you more than you were ready for. But still, something within you was intrigued. Gavi was handsome - no questioning that - and there was something about him that drew you in, like a warm fire on a cold day.

“I’m… not doing anything. I’d love to go see it.”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the address and we can meet there at 8?”

Yes you had initially wanted to make your footballer dark and sinister like all the men you’ve known in your life. But sitting across that table, looking at Gavi, listening to him speak about his love, his passion, the future he wanted - you couldn’t do it. This man was softened butter on the inside, shy and courteous, like the boys in 50s movies. He walked you back to your place like a true gentleman, holding your hand at your door, and professing, confidently with some slight stuttering, that he thought you were beautiful, and wanted to be more than just your friend.

That was the night that changed your writing (and life) forever, for the better. Your second book, “Enticement”, was even better than the first, this time awarding you critical acclaim for your ability to “provide humanity to a callous character, creating compelling and layered people”. Your final book in the trilogy, “Enraptured”, won you a YA book of the year award, as it told a compelling love story where two young lovers could break down each others walls and love them at their cores. Your protagonist and her footballer lover were praised for how “real, honest, raw, and romantic” their relationship was. That was all thanks to Gavi. He taught you so many new forms of love and ways to express it - like someone seeing color for the first time. He showed you how to weather storms together, build each other up, and ground one another when everything seemed to crumble.

“Before we get onto talking about your upcoming work, we have a few questions from the audience.”

You answered questions about your thought process and your world building, encouraging all the young writers in the room to give it their best shot. The last question arrived, and a young girl in round glasses approached the microphone.

“Hi I’m Valeria. First of all I really love your book. I just wanted to ask about the final couple, Maria and Xavier. A lot of your book seems so realistic, except for the way Xavier acts. He’s almost too perfect, like he’s not like any man I’ve ever seen in real life before. So I just wanted to ask: do you know any men in real life that are like Xavier?”

The crowd erupted in cheers at the question, and you laughed to yourself. You looked off to the side of the stage, where Gavi stood leaning against the wall. He smiled widely, winking at you.

“You know, I used to think men like that didn’t exist either. But then I found him, doing something I’ve never done in my life - watching a football game. So don’t lose hope that your Xavier is out there. He might be climbing a mountain or buried under booms in a library or by the side of the road with a busted car. You might find him in the oddest of places, but he’s out there. And when you find him, he’s going to turn your world upside down, and bring you joy you didn’t know was possible. Because mine has.”

~~~

I always wanna say more but that’s the end of the bus ride and the end of the Drabble. Almost iftar time!!

[poltergeist-coffee]

Please infodump about the college

I am favela 6 enjoyer and you know it but talk about all the ideas you have and I'll read every word and be totally normal about it

No screams for now Bec I'm currently on class and I don't have much battery left in my phone:(

Later maybe

- 🍽️

OKAY!!! SO!!! All the members on the Qsmp go to Quesadilla University who’s mascot is a silly yellow duck and a white bear affectionately (?) named Cucurucho

The Brazilian members are international students who come one semester to study there!! (Bagi comes a few semesters after the og five do because Forever and Cellbit kept talking to her about the school. Maybe her application was delayed to join) They all stay in the same dorm together because if they weren’t allowed too I think they’d set the University on fire (all six still have very…questionable pasts but they don’t talk about it lol)

Quackity introduced all the Brazilians to the English + Spanish players because they’re all in a program to help the new international students get use to being at the university/help them in any way they need.

Cellbit is a law student with a concentration in criminal law I think!! Same with Bagi I think she would be a law student (if you have more creative ideas tho feel free to let me know)

Felps is an art student, I think he’d do a lot of sculpting and has carved a massive fucking slab of marble into a perfect square by hand (hes fucking insane <33)

Tazercraft are both Science/Stem majors I think? Pac might have a focus on like chemical science though and Mike is more engineering????

Forever is a carpentry major (BUILDER!!) and minoring in Business (STONKSCRAFT!!) he’s super popular on campus btw… it’s because he’s so pretty and friendly with people like… look at him… you can’t not love him…

Cellbit runs the TTRPG/DND club on campus (their club room is right next to the Pride Center. this was not a mistake they specifically asked for that room) and the vice president is Slimecicle!! It’s a super fun and welcoming place, both of them love to scare the shit out of the new players with the role playing horrors <33 During Pride Month, Cellbit is exclusively referred too as the “Gay Master” and wears a mlm cape with a lil ace flag in it too :DD

Anyways, I mentioned they all dorm together!! Basically it has like one communal space and three smaller rooms/bedrooms (2 beds in each, last room has one bed). The communal space has a couch which can be turned into a bed and they all like to watch movies there together and destress :DD

One of the bedrooms was turned into a study room basically and Cellbit pretty much lives in there MABDHJFBAKAK he’s always studying or doing something on his laptop and the others check up on him sometimes. There have been multiple occasions where Forever was studying in there at like…4 am and Cellbit just walks in, climbs into Forever’s lap and just passes out. He’s like a cat he sleeps wherever he wants and we can’t do anything about it ://

Also if no one asks where Felps is he will just pass out in his studio inhaling clay fumes or whatever project he’s working on. He will simply vanish off the face of the planet (this is why the Brazilians all have a “family” group chat, yes Bagi got added to it even before she came to Quesadilla University)

[hawkepockets]

OKAY he won the poll for “next bighuge honker of a post” so… here’s commander pepa (he/she)!

his full name is pepiya, but over his long career as a hero he’s become an asura of many nicknames.

backstory under the cut.

pepa is from a small and tight-knit family by asuran standards, the middle child of five. her mother, leppi, field tests power armor, exosuits, and mech golems in high-intensity environments around mount maelstrom. her father, dopt, was a biological anthropologist but retired young, when pepa was 12.

dopt wishes he could say he quit science to be a stay-at-home dad, but that wasn’t why. at the height of his career he was at the top of his field, held in very high regard by the arcane council and considered highly ethical. which is why when the asura first encountered a free standing humanoid plant that mimicked intelligent speech, he was offered a coveted spot on the team that would study it. he never would’ve condoned live experimentation on anything he considered a person, but he was so sure that this specimen wasn’t really sapient, just imitating humans, and so curious to know how it was doing this. he went ahead with the planned vivisection, despite the subject’s screaming and pleading in an incredible mimicry of a person’s voice.

the family has been sending a citrus basket to malomedies every month for 30 years. reparations.

after speaking with caithe—and watching her kill several of his coworkers—dopt finally concluded that sylvari were thinking, feeling beings with individual personalities. people. and having realized the evil his krewe had committed, he resigned on the spot. he taught his kids to constantly question the colleges’ & council’s risk assessments and ethical standards. he expressly forbade any of them attending dynamics, where his krewe was trained, and really hoped they’d all go into the arts.

calla and eshna, dopt’s two eldest, pleased him by becoming a council secretary and wearable sculpture artist respectively, but pepa desperately wanted to go to college. she ended up at statics, studying optics. she was competent, and blended in well enough with asuran academic culture, but it took most of her energy to stay mentally present in class and keep up her engineering student persona, instead of daydreaming all day about exploring ruins and making up booby traps in her head.

his real interest has always been archaeology—dopt’s life experiences instilled pepa with both a deep appreciation for the importance of learning about other races, and a deep fear of harming them in the process. so he studied cultures that were dead or missing from central tyria: the forgotten, the stone summit dwarves, and most of all the pre-primordus asura, as records of their lives underground were largely buried or erased to ease the transition to the surface. any time pepa didn’t spend on schoolwork, intramural tennis, or making the expected number of appearances at statics parties, he spent digging around in cave entrances and archives, collecting and obsessing over junk from ages past, and picking up thief skills to get over and under obstacles and stay hidden from destroyers and other subterranean critters.

the VOED was pepa’s final project, combining her official and personal fields of study to create a device that could visually highlight artifacts of interest. after graduation, she kept working on it, developing the core technology into an oversized lens that could scan large areas for old magitechnical signatures.

while observing the wilds around rata sum through his lens, pepa noticed huge cords of ancient magitech just under the surface—the optic fiber cables for underground ratas, though this wouldn’t be proven until the discovery of rata novus many years later. curious, she searched cave systems and dig sites around the “noodles” until finally striking on an exposed section of cable, and identifying it as the same type of coated glass that statics used for optics, and clearly old asuran make. she was over the moon, and undertook the project of mapping the optic cables and marking points where many intersected. these points, she theorized, would indicate the locations of large underground asura structures—maybe even whole lost cities.

most of pepa’s marked sites were inaccessible due to infestations and cave-ins (natural, caused by destroyers, or caused by asuran explosives to seal the entrances behind them as they fled to the surface). but at the site he’d labeled ‘X,’ his luck changed. as he hiked towards the spot, sweating in the maguuma heat, he felt a sudden cold breeze from below—a shaft, opened by erosion, just barely wide enough for a teenage asura to wriggle down—directly into an intact abandoned rata. pepa explored as far as he safely could alone in stealth, and saw no trace of destroyers or dangerous wildlife. squeezing up to the surface again, he was beside himself with excitement.

getting the funds, resources, and manpower to fully explore “rata x” was no picnic, though. the arcane council was fully against it, for fear of waking destroyers or damaging the structural integrity of the ground near rata sum. statics dismissed it at as a vanity project, claiming everything of value had been brought to the surface or re-invented by the colleges by now. and while the priory was interested, they had to concede that the site was too close to rata sum for them to overstep the council.

it was an obscure, underfunded inquest archaeology krewe who finally signed on, scraping together enough gold to cover equipment costs and volunteering themselves as expedition members. they were shady, skittish, mercenary asura, the kind dopt would have chewed pepa out to no end for associating with, but pepa was impatient, and took the first offer of help.

the rata x-pedition was a disaster. the hows & whys can be their own post, but it was a full party wipe for the inquest krewe, and pepa exited alone, pursued by a hive of destroyer crabs, clutching a single treasure: the rata’s main library data core, containing all the stored knowledge of its ancient inhabitants.

condemned by the arcane council and college of statics for endangering rata sum, reviled by the inquest for taking their gold and getting their researchers killed, pepa ran straight to the priory, and traded the data crystal to gixx for sanctuary and membership there. he was 18 at the time.

for the next 17 years, pepa earned the trust and respect of his fellow scholars. it wasn’t hard to redeem himself for rata x in their eyes. after all, he’d returned with the data crystal, and the dead had all been inquest. pepa struck up a quick friendship with kekt, who was a novice at the same time, got incredibly deft at navigating unstable and heavily trapped ruins, and became a resident expert on the stone summit dwarves, in contrast to kekt’s expertise on the deldrimor. he miniaturized the VOED lens into a handheld device powerful enough to see through seven planes of magic, allowing him to detect artifacts of interest as well as curses and hidden defensive devices with relative ease, as long as they used magic. after he presented his lens to the priory’s top archaeologists, he was rewarded with his own team—the Dangerous Artifacts Recovery Krewe, or D.A.R.K.

the krewe was exactly what it said on the tin. they extracted powerful artifacts from sites around the shiverpeaks and sometimes farther afield.

caius was an iron legion tank engineer who’d been traded to the priory for a ghost expert. he designed, built, maintained, and drove the krewe’s ATV, a combination charr car/dredge drill and all around sweet ride that let them access high peaks and deep caverns. he doubled as a rocks expert who could determine whether a cave or tomb was urgently likely to collapse on their heads.

pepa’s lens and proclivities for stealth, parkour, and trap disarming would get them through a dangerous structure, while maj, a raven norn, and kekt provided historical context and insight.

renada, a former thief and fence for kryta’s bandits—identified items of interest for the priory to either examine, repatriate to their cultures of origin, or sell off to fund more research.

being trusted with founding D.A.R.K. was a major compliment, but also a test of pepa’s ability to work with other races. while gixx had no problem with pepa’s closeness to kekt, as they had great research partner chemistry, he had noticed that pepa tended to associate almost exclusively with other asura. he mistook this for common elitism, assuming pepa thought of himself as too good to work with bookahs. in reality, it was a different type of asura supremacist thought that was keeping pepa isolated from other scholars—anxiety, taught to him by his father, about abusing his intellect and curiosity to the detriment of other, more fragile races. this worry was hammered out of him in a matter of days by his new human, charr, and particularly norn teammates. but it still lingered when he had to face sylvari. around them pepa was edgy, uncertain, frustratingly polite at the cost of productivity and clear communication. he’d already let dopt down once by collaborating with inquest, and was terrified he’d do it again by causing one of these strange, delicate-looking plant people to get hurt.

in 1324, kekt was given an opportunity to specialize full time in dwarf lore, which he eagerly took. maj tried out for the rank of archon, got the promotion, and moved to the priory’s labs, and riding the tide of change, renada “pulled back” from field work after a um. workplace safety lapse. (got too curious about a cursed stone summit ritual knife she’d flagged for secure storage, took it out to look at, and got three fingers instantaneously stripped to bone. the bitch of it is, it wasn’t even one of the treasures she was thinking about pawning on the side for personal funding! the fingers still work. they’re just animated bone now.)

rather than let D.A.R.K. disband, gixx assigned two hotshot new priory members to the krewe—bonnie shaw, a kid necromancer from ascalon whose raw, unpolished skill let her talk to spirits to learn more about sites and objects, and the newly minted magister sieran. although both of them were much younger than caius or pepa, and despite pepa’s fears about working closely with a sylvari, they were all thick as thieves well before a year passed, and had a major triumph together with the discovery and destruction of the sanguinary blade. the new D.A.R.K. was less balanced and cautious than the old, but with the rookies’ enthusiasm and magical firepower they seemed unstoppable.

and then the risen moved on claw island, and everything went south fast.

[luke-shywalker]

the kids’ table

“Yo.”

Rey looks up. It’s Ben.

It’s funny. He always seemed like the cool cousin. The reigning Mario Kart champion, purveyor of piggyback rides—the one who still sat at the kids’ table at dinner, his knees pushed up against his chest. But now he’s, like, thirty and still lives with his parents and doesn’t have a job and wasn’t at the last five Christmases for reasons Uncle Han and Aunt Leia won’t disclose—not to members of the kid table, anyway.

Rey is twenty. Not really a kid. But she might as well be.

“Yo,” Rey says back. She shuffles over so Ben can sit next to her on the steps.

They are at Uncle Lando’s house, which is so big and so rich-looking Rey doesn’t know what to do with herself. There are too many expensive things around here, and she’s afraid they might break if she looks at them. So different from the little two-bedroom apartment she and her dad live in.

“You in college now?” Ben asks.

“Community college,” says Rey. “Transferring to university soon.”

“What’re you studying?”

“Mechanical engineering.”

“Ah,” says Ben. “All those Legos paid off.”

Rey laughs and nods. “What’re you doing?”

“That is a great question,” says Ben, and nothing else. “How’s Uncle Luke? I mean, your dad.”

“He’s right there. You could ask him yourself,” Rey says, gesturing to where the adults are congregated near the drinks.

“That’s the grownup table,” says Ben.

“We’re grownups too, now,” says Rey.

“Not here we aren’t,” says Ben.

Rey shrugs—she knows exactly what he means.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Ben asks all of a sudden, probably to annoy her, like he used to when she was a kid. Except now, it’s not a weapon of embarrassment, it’s an actual question, with an actual answer. But it’s unclear whether Ben knows that or not.

“Yeah, I do, actually,” says Rey, pulling out her phone. “His name is Finn. We met at school.”

“Oh. You actually do,” says Ben. He leans over to see the picture. “Nice. He looks cool. Why isn’t he here?”

“We only just started dating,” says Rey. “Maybe next year. What about you? Are you in a relationship?”

“Just got out of one,” Ben says. “But it wasn’t with a girl.”

“Oh,” says Rey, surprised. “I didn’t know you were…”

“I’m not,” says Ben. “But he was my boss and I was in a dark place and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Rey stares at him, not sure what to do with this information.

“Is that why you haven’t been at Christmas?” she asks, finally.

“Well, that and being in and out of the psych ward.”

Rey blinks. “Your parents never said anything about that.”

Ben looks at her, curious. “What did they say?”

“Well, your dad never said anything. Your mom said you were with The Peace Corps.”

“Well, actually, I was. But just for a year. When I was like, twenty-four. Then I had my mental breakdown. The first one, I mean.”

Rey scratches the back of her neck, caught off guard by all this trauma-dumping. She is starting to think the cool cousin is maybe not as cool as they all thought he was. She suddenly remembers that, when they all had sleepovers, Ben was always the last to fall asleep and would try to get everyone else to stay awake as long as possible. He used to get kind of desperate, in a weird way, as if he was keeping them all alive—or, keeping himself alive.

“Well…are you okay, now, Ben?” Rey asks.

“No,” Ben says, with a smile. “No, kid, I am so not.”

Rey starts to feel afraid to be sitting here with him on the steps, and she doesn’t know why. She’s not sure what she’s afraid of. Somehow, she feels afraid that Ben will suddenly explode into a thousand pieces. She can see it now. There has always been a suppressed scream building up inside of him.

“I can feel it,” Ben goes on, looking around and vibrating his leg anxiously. “Everyone thinking about me, and wondering where I’ve been. I don’t think they want me here. But also, I don’t think they’d let me leave.”

Rey doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But he looks like maybe he needs to walk around or something.

She stands up. “Let’s go see if anyone wants to play Mario Kart,” she says.

Ben’s eyes light up. “Yes, yes, yes! I wanna be Waluigi.”

Ben stands up and he and Rey wander around Uncle Lando’s house, trying to round up the cousins to play. Nobody seems to want to. A couple of them say yes, in a second, hold on, but then they just stand around talking while Ben and Rey wait awkwardly. It’s looking like the cause is a bust.

“I guess no one wants to,” Rey says.

“Can you play me?” Ben begs.

“Just the two of us? You’ve always been so good, Ben. You’ll smoke me.”

“I’ll go easy on you.”

“That’s no fun.”

“Please, Rey. Please.” It’s like the cousin sleepovers all over again.

“Why do you want to play so bad?” Rey asks, a little amused.

“Because Mario Kart is the only thing I’ve ever been good at in my whole life,” Ben says, and the words sound like a joke, but his tone of voice and his eyes are communicating that this is really how he sees himself. He’s desperate. A thirty-year-old man who somehow never stopped being thirteen.

Rey pauses, then pats him on the back.

“Okay, Ben. Let’s play.”

[hrk4]

What does your child want to do when he grows up?

Years ago, as a twenties-something kid, I offered parenting advice to my college senior Jo (older to me by a decade and already highly accomplished in her chosen field) and without batting an eyelid she said, "Hari, I too was an expert on parenting until I had my own child!"

I always recall her words when I am tempted to offer unsolicited advice to young parents. I refrain from giving advice to people but sometimes I find it difficult to remain silent when family members or close friends are taking the longer route—and I feel that I can offer immediate assistance that might make the journey easier for them. It could well be an aggrandized view of my perception but if it turns out to be helpful to them, what’s the harm?

I furtively enter the risky zone now. Offering counsel unasked. About parenting. Despite the fact that I have spent close to half my life living alone and have zero experience raising a child. Despite not being an expert in any field and offering a limited, South India-centric view. What I miss in erudition and experience I daresay are made good by my perspective, which is unattached and counterintuitive.

After having lain bare all these disclaimers before you, I shall proceed to share some ideas and opinions that some of you might find valuable.

It might help if you read this with an open mind.

—

When your son or daughter reaches high school, a pesky question raises its ugly head: What should my child study after twelfth? In other words, what kind of profession will he pursue after his education? Or more specifically, will he make loads of money pursuing the said profession?

If this question is asked early, it results in enrolling the child in intense tuition classes from Class 8 (typically in the sciences). And in most other cases, it is nearly impossible to avoid this question after the Class 10 board examination results are out.

If the Class 10 results are favourable, you gently coax your child into taking science (possibly Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics, and Biology, so that options are open); if not, commerce—and worst case, the arts. Having taking science, if his Class 12 results are favourable (perhaps after his traversing a grisly array of tuition classes and mock tests), you sell the idea of taking engineering or medicine; if not, a BSc. in Physics, Mathematics, or the life sciences (invariably followed by an MSc. and a PhD. as well). Even in engineering and medicine, you have a hierarchy of choices that eventually leads to a master’s degree. And having taken commerce, if your child has done well in Class 12, the next step is a Bachelor of Commerce alongside preparing to become a Chartered Accountant. If your child takes arts and does well, he is expected to study law or at least a master’s in psychology or English. The Indian antidote to an “unimpressive” bachelor's degree is a Master's in Business Administration (MBA). In most cases, it is deemed useful to have an MBA as a backup. Compounded with these calculations is the question: Which college is best suited for the purpose? In India or abroad—and if the latter, US or Europe?

What, pray, is the grand outcome of all these machinations?

A well-paying job that eventually leads to a well-endowed spouse.

When parents say that there is “scope” in a certain field, what they mean is that their child will get better salaries, which seems to directly translate into finding the right partner for marriage.

Now, I have a few questions for you:

Are these calculations and machinations effective?

Will this approach ensure that children land up with high-paying jobs and good partners?

Will this approach work over the years? And across generations?

Are the children able to manage expectations well?

And more importantly, are they happy with their lives?

If you answer “Yes” to most of these questions, the “go with the flow” approach has indeed led to the ultimate objective and it is unlikely that the rest of this piece will strike a chord with you.

If you answer “No” to most of these questions, then you might agree with me that there is a more rational approach to this question than the arbitrary one people typically follow.

To arrive at that, we must look at life as a whole.

—

What are the parameters that determine a good quality life?

These are so widely known that it might appear silly to enumerate them. At the risk of reiterating the obvious, I shall list out ten things that are essential for human life. It may be easier to think of them in pairs: Health and Wealth, Work and Leisure, Nature and Culture, Ethics and Altruism, People and Self.

Under each of these parameters, I’ve listed a few questions that you probably ask yourself already—or will do well to ask yourself at some point:

Health: How is my physical and mental wellness? What am I doing to ensure that I am healthy—walking, yoga, exercise, sports? Do I have strong immunity? How is my emotional resilience? Can I walk a mile or climb a flight of stairs without panting? How often do I fall sick, and with what ailment? Have I been able to find a solution to typically recurring maladies?

Wealth: How is my financial stability? Do I have sufficient liquid funds? What about assets, investments? How is my risk appetite? Have I made provisions for emergencies? Do I have health insurance? Do I have a well-designed financial plan? How many months can I survive if I lose my job?

Work: Have I attained expertise in some field? Am I able to add value to people’s lives and thereby generate revenue from the marketplace? Do I have the basic work ethic of hard work, focus, adaptability, clarity of thought, market awareness, innovation, etc.? Am I constantly upgrading my knowledge in my chosen domains?

Leisure: Do I spend moments of recreation either with a hobby (arts and crafts, gardening, swimming, reading, socialising, etc.) or with pets or nature? Do I have sufficient time away from the screen?

Nature: Am I eco-friendly? Do I spend some time with nature? Do I think about the environment before taking minor or major decisions?

Culture: Do I have a strong cultural identity? Do I practice a certain faith? Do I wear the clothes, speak the language, and eat the food that is part of my culture? What about music, dance, ritual, celebration, etc.? Do I know most of the cultural practices and customs of my particular community?

Ethics: Am I aware of the laws of the land? Do I have a moral compass? Do I have the basic traits of integrity, compassion, purity, self-control, and freedom from anger, violence, jealousy, greed, etc.? Am I fulfilling all my duties – at the level of self, family, workplace, and society?

Altruism: Am I helping people in need? Do I give money to charities? Do I spend time with people to mentor them?

People: Do I have a good family life? Have I built deep emotional connections with my immediate family members and close friends? Have I inculcated good values in my children? Do I have a strong social network of relatives, friends, colleagues, and associates?

Self: Am I clear about my expectations (from work, from family, from friends, etc.)? Do I have a good estimate of my abilities and opportunities? Do I have a well-designed plan for self-improvement? Where do I see myself in the next three, five, seven years?

You can add to this list, or perhaps even prune it—but I think you will mostly agree that collective human wisdom has more-or-less shown us that these details are important if we want to lead a good quality life.

Given that life comprises so many factors, do you think it is wise to emphasise marks–money–marriage at the cost of everything else?

—

Let’s go back to our initial question: What should my child study after twelfth? An oft-ignored parameter in providing an answer to this question is: What is my child’s svadharma?

For those of you who have not heard this Sanskrit word, sva-dharma means “that which is aligned to one’s temperament” or, in this case, “a profession or activity that is best suited to a person’s innate abilities, interests, and training.”

Svadharma is a function of the individual—and not of money, potential spouse, fame, or any other external factor. The opposite of sva-dharma is para-dharma, which is, in this context, “a profession or activity that is not compatible with one’s abilities, interests, and training.”

Often, paradharma is quite alluring to pursue and that is the reason Krishna warns Arjuna in the Bhagavad-gita—not once but twice—that it is best to follow svadharma. In fact, pursuing paradharma can be dangerous because it takes into considerations factors other than the individual (glamour, money, fame, etc.)

When the question “What is my child’s svadharma?” is posed to you, these are some answers you might give:

I myself don’t know what my svadharma is; how the hell am I going to guide my children?

My daughter has no idea what she wants to do. She will do what her BFF likes to do.

It’s easier said than done; how in the world should I find out what my son will be interested in for the rest of his life?

My children know what they want to pursue but they have no talent.

My son excels at a skill that is socially “not so cool” but will generate decent wealth; will he ever find a girl to marry?

My daughter is clear what she likes but she can’t earn a penny doing that; how will she survive?

Obviously a short essay cannot solve all problems of growing children but I can present some general findings of great thinkers that might be relevant to you. But before that, let me share my personal experience of trying to find my svadharma and how my parents facilitated the process.

—

As a seven-year-old child, when my father’s friend Ganesh Pai asked me what I wanted to be, I wrote “Magician” on the piece of paper he gave me. Clearly I was influenced by him at that time because he was a performing magician and I was impressed with magic tricks.

I joined Sishu Griha in Class 2 and all through my school-days, teachers were excellent to the extent that there was no subject that I was averse to—just subjects that I was drawn more to than others. More often than nought, I was pulled up for my fanatic interest in certain subjects rather than bad performance.

During my middle school years, I was obsessed with studying about the human body—the components of blood, heart hormones, functioning of the brain, the incredible power of the liver, and so forth. And coupled with my infatuation with Sherlock Holmes, I thought Forensic Medicine would be the perfect field for me. During my high school years, I began going to my aunt Geethamani for Mathematics lessons and since she was an excellent teacher, I began taking a deep interest in Math and Physics. By the time I reached Class 10, I was star-struck with astrophysics. This mania continued through my pre-university days. I would go to the J N Planetarium in Bangalore to attend classes, I frequented the Indian Institute of Science and Raman Research Institute to listen to special lectures, wrote e-mails to astrophysicists in the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (and even got a response!), gave a presentation in the St. Joseph’s College Physics Club about Gamma Ray Bursts, and used all my internet allowance looking at images from outer space instead of drooling after supermodels in bikinis.

After I finished Class 12, I wanted to take a year off. While my mother was sceptical about it, my father actually welcomed the idea. I told them that I want to take the time off to explore subjects that I had been dabbling with – philosophy, languages, music, graphology, literature, public speaking, photography.

During my sabbatical year, I enrolled for IIT-JEE coaching (mostly as a subterfuge but I learnt a lot during my time at BASE), met scientists and engineers to discuss about my future plans (who unanimously suggested that I take up engineering if I was really interested in science), spoke to some of my relatives about it (who largely suggested either computer science or mechanical engineering), and basically gathered data about what would be the next course of action for me. My parents initiated some of these interactions and in other cases, it was my own interest.

Finally, I decided, for better or for worse, I would pursue mechanical engineering. Engineering meant that my classmates would be a better bunch than if I did a BSc. in Math or Physics; mechanical engineering because I liked drawing and machines (plus I was accounting for the slump in the software world as a result of 9/11).

I liked a few subjects like Engineering Mathematics, Machine Drawing, and Organisational Behaviour but in general, I got bored of engineering after two years. But having taken up the course, I completed my degree in the stipulated four years. When I realised that mechanical engineering was not my cup of tea, I took a job as a software programmer with Infosys because I learnt that they taught coding from the basics—and at their cost. After getting trained in the basics of programming followed by a specialisation in Java over a four-month period in their remarkable Mysore facility, in less than three months I got bored of working as a coder. But I had signed a bond that I would work for a year, so I stayed on till December.

In the years that followed, I must have dabbled in no less than five different professions—and even then it wasn’t easy to pin-point what I really liked to do for the rest of my life.

What I did realise at some point was that my reaction to things were often in binary. There were things I was obsessed with that gave me great joy and there were things that I got bored doing that I couldn’t sustain even if it was irresistibly lucrative. I liked to be free, read a lot, play the violin, and spend my time with smart people—it mattered little how much I earned, what others thought about me, if I would get recognition, or impress a girl.

In the quest after my svadharma, I seem to have been creative (sometimes unwittingly) and the reason I attribute to this creativity is that I was not afraid of taking a chance, going wrong, experimenting multiple times. Clearly, we can’t come up with anything original if we are not ready to make mistakes (See Ken Robinson’s book).

While this goes to show that one’s svadharma need not necessarily be physics or law, armed forces or music, most parents would like to know what exactly their child wants to pursue—and if that choice is a prudent one.

—

Professional life requires certain basic life skills that include hard work, focus, resilience, meticulousness, networking, problem-solving, decision-making, and so forth. Irrespective of the profession, these fundamental skills are necessary. Either the parents or the teachers or a third party “life coach” can teach these skills. Without this, knowing your svadharma doesn’t amount to much.

It is only over and above these basics does the awareness of svadharma matter. While there is no easy way to identify svadharma, there are a few things that you can easily do.

During the summer vacations after Class 8 (an optimal age, when he will be 13 or 14), give the following brief to your child:

A. Introspection – Stage 1 Take a sheet of paper, write the date, take an hour off, and answer these questions: What activities in the last week, last month, and last year did I really enjoy the most? In those activities, was I particularly good at something? What are the things I am able to do easily that people around me find difficult?

[Note to parent: Feel free to add/subtract questions that you find relevant. Also, if you can rope in one or two more children (no more than four)—your sibling’s children or your child’s classmates—to do this as a joint project, it might be more exciting for them.]

B. Aptitude Test There are several aptitude tests and strength-finder quizzes available online and offline. I will identify a few for you. Try them out over the next week.

[Note to parent: Go online and pick a few aptitude tests. Don’t hesitate to pay a small sum for it. In addition, you may also consult a career coach at some point.]

C. Discussions with Professionals Have you identified a few areas of interest and ability? I will introduce you to a few of my friends who work in these areas. They are professionals who are successful in their job and have a passion for it. I will take you to meet them but I will not speak. You have a free-wheeling conversation with them about their job. Also ask a few specific questions: Why do you love your job? What does your typical day look like? How is life for a fresher vs. life after a decade of work? What are the high-points and low-points of your job? What would you do if you were not in this profession? How would you adapt if AI were to take over your job? After every discussion, write down three or four things that stood out from the discussion.

[Note to parents: Needless to say, you must identify the right people. Never mind if it is not a direct contact—if need be, pull your friends’ contacts or request your father-in-law. Also, feel free to tweak the questions. Here again, it might be more efficient if two or three children went together to meet with the professional and then later discussed amongst themselves about the interaction.]

D. Introspection – Stage 2 In the last two weeks, you have spoken to five professionals and written down some things that stood out. Now, take a sheet of paper, write the date, and answer the same questions you first answered. Are there any differences in your responses?

[Note to parents: Scrutinise the two introspection pages. Can you see a difference? Think about what are the next steps that will help your child think about this by himself. This exercise should ultimately lead to your child taking responsibility for his choices.]

—

We all have some innate abilities and interests. If we build a certain kind of intelligence that is aligned to our innate abilities and interests, that will translate into expertise through training; this will make us valuable in the workplace.

Intelligence is not static but is constantly developing (See Geoff Colvin’s book). Intelligence is of different kinds: logical/analytical, verbal/linguistic, spatial, body-kinaesthetic, musical, inter-personal, intra-personal, and naturalistic. (See Howard Gardner’s book). Once you help your child identify the type of intelligence he has and wishes to develop, find a mentor/guru who can help your child.

As your child develops his specific intelligence, he should also be on the lookout for the different professions where his skills can be used. This increases the possibilities of finding a good job – one that pays well, helps him improve as a professional, consists of good co-workers, is not too far from home, puts him in a state of flow (See Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s book), etc.

If your child has multiple interests, help him hone different types of intelligence such that the possibility of his finding a good job increases. He might also end up starting an enterprise with his friends. Or at least he will have a solid hobby that makes his leisure much more active (e.g. painting, cycling, singing) rather than passive (e.g. watching a film, eating, going for a drink).

Is there any guarantee that all this will work? No, but at any rate I think this is a more rational way to approach the problem than the “go with the flow” one. Having a plan is better than having no plan. Having a well-thought-out plan is better than having just a plan.

“When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.” —John Lennon

—

Reading List for the Parents

These books are in no way meant to be authoritative texts on the subjects nor are they exhaustive in any way. I just made a quick list of books that I have gone through over the years that I found useful (and also sneaked in a few books that I have worked on!) You can peruse through the ones that tickle your interest.

Health Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life by Héctor García and Francesc Miralles

Wealth The Psychology of Money: Timeless Lessons on Wealth, Greed, and Happiness by Morgan Housel

Work Talent is Overrated: What Really Separates World-Class Performers from Everybody Else by Geoff Colvin Multiple Intelligences: New Horizons in Theory and Practice by Howard Gardner Flow: The Psychology of Happiness by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

Leisure Shallows: How the Internet is Changing the Way We Think, Read and Remember by Nicholas Carr Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain

Nature Walden by Henry David Thoreau

Culture Indian Culture by S Srikanta Sastri translated by S Naganath A Concise Encyclopaedia of Hinduism (3 volumes) by Swami Harshananda

Ethics Your Dharma and Mine by Shatavadhani R Ganesh translated by Hari Ravikumar The New Bhagavad-Gita translated by Koti Sreekrishna and Hari Ravikumar

Altruism Altruism: The Science and Psychology of Kindness by Matthieu Ricard

People Tuesdays with Morrie: An Old Man, a Young Man, and Life's Greatest Lesson by Mitch Albom Shiva Rama Krishna by Shatavadhani R Ganesh, adapted into English by Hari Ravikumar

Self Man's Search for Meaning by Victor E. Frankl Finding Your Element: How to Discover Your Talents and Passions and Transform Your Life by Sir Ken Robinson with Lou Aronica The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch and Jeffrey Zaslow

—

Acknowledgements: This essay is a result of an intense discussion I had with my friends Somashekhara Sharma and Srishan Thirumalai a few days back. Thanks to them for their observations and inputs, particularly Soma who went through multiple drafts of this essay and gave me great suggestions. When I shared this piece with my parents—Dr. M V Ravikumar and Prof. Hema Ravikumar—they wrote back saying something to the effect of “Good to know that we raised you boys the right way.” Much of what I have written are drawn from my observation of how my parents raised my brother and me.

[everywishway]

Genshin Impact College/Uni AU Headcanons

Genshin Impact College / University AU Headcanons (part one?)

Characters included: Childe/Tartaglia, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, & Albedo

I'll also take asks if y'all want more of this AU or similar AUs? Was thinking of writing a fic in this AU

Childe

You can not tell me this boy did not come from a well off family who is paying for his college

His family probably had less money when he was little but now they are well off (maybe a crime family but who knows)

He's probably still undecided as a sophomore, or he's taking SEVERAL different majors

He’s also a frat boy.

Probably in a bunch of different clubs and a couple of different sports, he drops them a couple of weeks later.

He just follows the dopamine (aka this boy has ADHD)

The activities that stayed were Archery and Fencing

IDK why but I see him in a knitting club or smth, making plushies for Teucer and shipping them home

He’s at every music event too, he loves the energy and atmosphere

Xinyan is teaching him guitar

IDK why but he also streams in his spare time???

Zhongli

Teacher’s assistant and studying to be a Archeology or Law professor

This boy is always in the library, reading everything he can, also due to the fact it’s not overstimulating

He has autism, change my damn mind.

This boy is in one extracurricular: Quiz Bowl

As captain of my school’s Quiz Bowl team, I say he would be perfect

It requires a lot of random and obscure trivia, a lot of ancient knowledge and this boy is well versed in everything. He would get all the questions right.

He used to do wrestling in High School

People seriously don’t believe that this lanky boy used to be built

He lives with his cousin, Xiao, in an apartment not far from Childe’s Frat House.

Childe is actually one of his few friends

He takes Zhongli out of the house (to not very stimming places, respecting his boundaries like nice restaurants or shops)

Zhongli helps Childe with schoolwork, a quiet place to study, and home cooked meals

Diluc

USED to be a member of Childe's frat but something happened and he left

Now moved in with his sibling, Kaeya, and his best friend/crush, Jean, and the kid Jean babysits often, Klee, in a nice apartment

Culinary Major, Business Minor

He wants to eventually take on the family business of owning a winery and several pubs back home

Also used to be a member of the fencing team with Kaeya, but he dropped it for track (specifically the throwing stuff part of track)

He is an ass to everyone but makes meals for starving kids in his classes

Completely judges Kaeya for going out and drinking, especially when they go to Childe's frat house parties

Always picks them up and makes hangover cures for them the next morning tho

Kaeya

Came out as both bisexual and nonbinary (they/them) their Freshman year

A year younger than Diluc so a sophomore

Dance Major, Dance Major

They’re a campus flirt, everyone has a crush

They are also apart of the Fencing Team with Childe

Casually hangs out at other’s apartments, no one really knows how they get in but they do.

Works at a local restaurant owned by their family with Diluc

Lives with Diluc but is looking for their own apartment

Helps babysit Klee whenever Jean or Albedo is busy (which is often)

Somehow ending up adopting several local kids? Bennet, Amber, Klee, they can’t keep track anymore

Teaches Bennett fencing in their spare time

Also sneaks the kids sweets when they come into the restaurant they work at

They used to do track in high school but got diagnosed with asthma and had a terrible asthma attack one day in the middle of a competition, making them drop the sport

Childe also got them into streaming :)

Albedo

Junior (got into college a year early) for Biomedical Engineering

Was adopted by Alice (Klee’s mom) when he was a teenager

She’s president of the college so really busy, Albedo takes care of Klee when he can

Best friend is Sucrose, who he helps tutors because she has a habit of overworking himself

Trans, Pan, & Ace, Autistic with depression

Overworks himself every goddamn day

Kaeya and Klee often have to pick his sleeping body up from the library and bring him home

Also forgets to eat so Diluc and Kaeya make sure he has easy meals

Fantastic big brother tho, will do anything for his baby sister

Taught her how to make a project volcano with the biggest explosion... Teacher didn't like that one...

[nctsworld]

skateboard love

✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k

SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu​’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen​

“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.

The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.

The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.

Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.

They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.

“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.

Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.

“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”

Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”

Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.

Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.

Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.

You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.

And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.

Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period. 

With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?

The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.

No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.

When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.

All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.

Except one day.

It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.

Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was. 

Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.

Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot. 

The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.  

But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.

“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.

The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.

A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.

He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”

“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”

“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”

A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...

Did he just called you cute?

Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.

Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.

“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”

You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”

He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.

“I’m Yangyang.”

With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.

Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”

Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.   

Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand. 

It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.

Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.

Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.

And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—

I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?

“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”

“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.

“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.

Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”

Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”

Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.

And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.

Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place. 

A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.

The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.

It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.  

“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.

He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.

However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.

“Babe, watch ou—”

The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.

“You okay?” he pants nervously.

At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries. 

However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.  

He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences. 

As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.

“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.

You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”

Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.

The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.

Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”

Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.

“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”

A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss. 

[moon-light-jukebox]

Learning Styles - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Reader has worked hard to get to the FBI, but a misunderstanding has her feeling insecure. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Content Warning: Mention of normal criminal minds stuff briefly. 

A/n: I got these two requests and they were so similar I decided to combine them. I hope that’s okay, but I feel like the stories would have been almost identical. 

Requests:  - I have a fic suggestion. Reader pretends to be dumb but is actually really smart. I’m thinking of that quote about marilyn ”you have to be really smart to pretend to be dumb”. One day spencer realizes that reader is smarter than she lets people know.

- Hi! Can I request a spencer reid x reader fic where reader isn't great with numbers but brilliant with behaviour and humanities (i.e. literature, history, sociology, up to you)? Maybe a dash of insecurity to spice things up?

-- Learning Styles -- 

My favorite professor in college told me that everyone learns differently; what works for one person won’t work in the same way for another. We are all different human beings that are shaped in different ways.

I had always been oddly insecure about my intelligence level. One of my earliest memories was my mother yelling at me while I sat at the kitchen table when I was in first grade. I was the only kid in my class who still hadn’t learned how to read. I just didn’t understand. All of my friends were progressing so much quicker than me and my mother was losing patience.

It wasn’t until my grandmother stepped in that everything changed. My elementary school teacher was training children to read by memorizing sight words, a concept I didn’t understand. When my grandmother sat down and taught me phonics. I distinctly remember everything snapping into place.

I was in 1st grade and reading at a 7th-grade level by Christmas. Once I finally understood my learning style, I really began to thrive.

But no matter what I did, I could still hear my mother yelling at me, telling me I was stupid.

In my line of work, I see just how much the throw away comments that parents make can shape a child’s development. Luckily, those comments just made me a bit insecure, not a murderer.

Up until I was 22, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do beyond this desire I had to help people. SSA David Rossi had come to guest lecture in one of my abnormal psych classes during undergrad. After I heard him speak, I was done. I couldn’t have done anything else with my life. I had obtained my master’s in psychology before I joined the FBI.

It took some time, but I was finally assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I was so excited on my first day that I remember my hands physically shaking.

Until they weren’t.

I can still remember my first day so clearly. SSA Hotchner had introduced me to the team, saving the “best” for last.

“And this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he had said. “He’s our expert on…well, everything.”

Reid was my age and he had his Ph.D. I remember feeling awed by him.

Until I didn’t.

"I hold 3 Ph.D.'s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. I also have BAs in psychology and sociology."

I remember my jaw almost hitting the floor. While I was impressed by him, I wasn’t insecure about my place on the team.

Until I was.

My grandmother may have helped me master reading, which opened the door to me mastering anything else I put my mind to…except math.

I was fine at statistics, luckily. You couldn’t get a psych degree without a ton of statistics work. But statistics was different, I could see the practical use of statistics. I just couldn’t wrap my head around calculus or algebra.

On my first case with the team, Reid had calculated some insane mathematical equations on the whiteboard, running down the probabilities and applying a mathematical formula to the unsub’s behavior.

It wasn't until later, after the case was solved when I was standing in front of the whiteboard that my confidence was hit. Reid had come into the room and saw me looking at his work.

“Don’t bother trying to understand it,” he had said. “You’d have to be a genius to understand what I do.”

I didn’t have a word to describe the feeling that settled in my stomach at his words, I wasn’t sure such a word existed. The feeling was cold and heavy, but also made my body burn with shame.

I had just offered him a tight smile before I left the room.

On the plane home I had made a decision. I was no match for Dr. Reid, I doubt anyone was. So, I would take myself out of the competition. I couldn’t get hurt if I wasn’t playing the game.

And that is how the next year of my life went. I allowed Dr. Reid to explain things to me that I was an expert in, never saying a word. I acted like I didn't understand concepts that I had written papers on. The only thing I didn't dumb down was my profiling skills. Those were necessary for my job and for saving lives.

I don’t think anyone realized what I was doing.

Until they did.

--

The team had been called to Colorado to assist in capturing a serial rapist.

All of our cases bothered me, every last one…but something about ones with this vile element really struck me.

We had the unsub’s name, Tyler Childress. He had spent time in prison for sexual assault and burglary. It seems while he was in prison, he spent time perfecting his methods; it was only by pure luck that we found his fingerprint inside the victim’s house, making him the main suspect.

When we paid Mr. Childress a visit, he had managed to get the drop on Prentiss and Morgan, allowing them to escape. Morgan was furious.

All of us were sitting around a conference table in the local prescient while we let Dr. Reid talk.

I was trying to be calm, I was, but my nails were digging into my palm so deeply I was worried I was about to draw blood.

“Guys,” the expert on everything said. “He has to have some sort of accomplice.”

Rossi just sighed. “But the profile doesn’t point to him being the sort to do well with others; he’s a narcissist.”

Reid wouldn’t budge. “I know that, but he isn’t intelligent enough to pull this off alone. He’s just not. He had an IQ test done when he was 20. He scored in the mentally handicapped range. I’m telling you he has to have help.”

“Are you sure, Reid?” Hotch asked.

“Positive. I have his results right here.”

“IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence on their own.”

I was so startled that someone had contradicted Dr. Reid that it took me a second to realize it was me who had contradicted him.

He turned to face me; his brown eyes wide. “What?”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence.”

Dr. Reid laughed. He laughed at me like my comment was funny. “I don’t know where you heard that,” he began.

But I interrupted him. "IQ tests are classist and oftentimes racist. The man who invented the IQ test never intended for it to be used as a complete measure of intelligence. He regretted making the test.”

Reid sputtered. “You…it’s not racist!”

“Yes. It. Is.” I ground out. “If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be illegal to administer an IQ test to a black child in the state of California.”

"Wait, it's illegal to do that?" JJ asked, her brows drawn together.

"Yes. There was a court case in the 1970s over it. Teachers were using tests to separate white children from black children. The black children were put into special education classes they didn’t need to be in. Just because the teachers didn’t want those children in their classrooms.”

I should have stopped, but I was on a role. “They’re also inherently classist. How can you expect a child to answer a question about Romeo and Juliet if they haven’t heard of it?”

That had Dr. Reid scoffing. “Everyone has heard of it.”

I shot to my feet, unable to hold back anymore. “No, they haven’t. Children in underfunded schools that don’t have access to resources might not have heard about the most famous play in history because their school wasn’t able to provide the materials to teach them about it. There was a study done in a remote part of Russia right after the IQ test was invented. Every. Single. Person. Scored in the mentally handicapped range. Because they didn’t understand.”

I knew my voice was rising but I couldn’t stop myself. “Once the researcher took the questions and applied them to things they understood, they all scored as above average. They didn’t understand math as an abstract concept, but they understood it when it was applied to their businesses, to something they actually knew about.”

I cleared my throat. “The test isn’t fair, it’s not equal. Tyler Childress didn’t go to a good school and he didn’t have a stable home life. You can’t use one measure to calculate his intelligence. He’s gotten away with 7 assaults so far that we know of. He’s not stupid.”

The entire room was silent once I had stopped speaking. I couldn’t bring myself to regret it though. What kind of person was I if I played dumb because I was afraid of being mocked when a monster was out there attacking women? No, those women deserved to have me at my best.

And I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t give it to them.

Rossi spoke first, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me. “Took you long enough,” he said. “But y/n is right. We trust the profile; we don’t let personal bias cloud the way. That’s how we catch this bastard.”

--

Later that day, we were cleaning up the conference room while the local police processed Tyler Childress.

Pathological narcissism is a complex disorder, but we followed the profile and Rossi was right. Hotch set up a press conference in which JJ and Prentiss took center stage. They tore Childress’s ego to shreds on live television.

His narcissism wouldn’t allow that to slide. He got angry, he made a mistake, and we got him before anyone else got hurt.  

While the cat was out of the bag about my intelligence and that made me nervous, I couldn't regret any of it. I got to be the one to tell our last victim that we got him. I got to hug her while she cried because now that he was locked up, she felt like her healing could begin. I wasn’t sure if my rant about structural racism and the classism of IQ tests actually helped anything, but that didn’t really matter. There was one less monster in the shadows.

Today was a good day.

I was alone in the conference room, untacking photos from the evidence board when I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. I turned my head to meet the wide, honey brown eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

Oh boy, I thought. “What’s up, Reid?”

He shifted from foot to foot, his hands twisting in front of him before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I asked Garcia to look into you.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I’m pretty sure any nefarious things I had done would have popped up on my initial background check.”

“Right, I didn’t mean like that,” he mumbled, the apples of his cheeks turning pink. “I asked her to look into you academically.”

Shit.

He went on. “You double majored in psychology and sociology before you got a master’s in cultural psychology. She pulled your thesis. I just read it.”

“I see.” I turned my attention back to the board.

“You also guest lecture on cross-cultural psychology at Georgetown several times a year. And you’ve co-authored two papers since I’ve known you.”

Meh, it’s three. But that doesn’t matter. “Did you read those too?”

I took his silence as confirmation.

He was so quiet I almost thought he had left, but the crackle of energy I felt in the air told me he hadn’t. “Do you need something, Dr. Reid?”

"Why didn't you get your Ph.D.?"

I had answered that question many, many times. “I didn’t need a doctorate to do what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to waste time. Once I figured out what I wanted, I charged at it.” Which was a far more honest answer than most people got about that from me.

“W-why did you pretend to be dumb?” he rasped out, causing me to look back at him. “32 days ago, you let me explain the long-term effects of gerrymandering and the complex causes of poverty.”

“Of course, I did,” I said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“One of the papers you authored was about generational poverty.”

“Just because I know a lot about something doesn’t mean I can stop listening to information. That sort of thinking breeds ignorance.” I smiled, unable to not tease him just a little bit.

Reid took a step closer to me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t have a good answer.”

In all the months I had known him, Spencer Reid had never touched me, not even so much as a finger brushing against mine when he handed me something. That fact is why I was so startled when I felt his hand on my upper arm, turning me towards him.

He licked his lips, his eyes darting around. “Did everyone else know?”

I shook my head, my teasing mood long gone. "No. I mean, clearly, Rossi suspected but…No, I didn't tell anyone else."

“I just don’t understand. You’re brilliant.”

I scoffed. “No, I’m not. I’m decent a psychology, sociology, stuff like that. I can’t apply math to behavior to find patterns. I can’t even calculate how much something is gonna cost when it’s on sale without a calculator half the time.”

‘What do you…” Reid trailed off. “Wait. The very first case. You were looking at the evidence board.”

Goddamn eidetic memory.

The boy wonder was on a roll now. “I told you that you’d have to…is that why you didn’t tell me?”

What else could I do? I just nodded.

Those brown eyes closed, and he let out a groan. “I said that because I thought you were going to…I was worried…” He huffed out a breath and opened his eyes. “I wanted you to like me. I didn’t want you to think I was just a nerd.”  

Now I was confused. “Why?”

Spencer Reid’s blush went all the way down his neck. “Well…I just…Morgan said I should just talk to you. But I’m not…I’m not good at that. I panic, then I start to ramble. Like I’m doing now…”

“Reid,” I interrupted. “I’m not playing dumb now. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I like you,” he blurted out right before he smacked both of his hands over his face. “Oh my god. I sound like a child.” I thought I heard him mutter idiot under his breath. “Emily says that my IQ gets slashed to 60 whenever I see a pretty girl.”

Much like that moment all those years ago when I was a child, I felt everything click into place. Oh.

I couldn't suppress my smile any longer. I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, we've already gone over how IQ tests aren't a good measure of overall intelligence."  

With that, I quickly stepped away and hurried out of the conference room, leaving a stunned genius in my wake. When I turned back to look at him, I saw his fingers brushing over the place where my lips had just been.  

--

Permeant Taglist : @rachelxwayne​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @sickeninglyshoujo​ @justagirllookingforherplace​ @nanocoool​ @andiebeaword​ @imjusthereformggcontent​ @rainsong01​ @violentvulgarvolatile​ @mys2425​ @al3xmnd​ @imfalling-inlove​ @cielo1984​ @shadyladyperfection​ @kissingvalentino​

comment/message to be added 😊

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] as University Students

a/n: I love college AUs but I'm British so I thought I'd chip in w some painfully British uni lad ateez

Hongjoong

Besties w his tutor

Got his life down on lock

One of those ppl that are always on top of their work, have acc done the reading and gets good grades but is still rlly cool and has a social life ygm

But thats only bc he lives in the library

Has a designated seat and there's an unspoken rule amongst the students that that's HIS spot, nobody sits in it

Often seen napping at said library spot

So well dressed. He’s one of those students that always catches your eye around campus or lecture halls

Bc he’s just so well dressed for a uni student running on 0 hours sleep and red bull

Probs studies smth like joint honours music and philosophy

Also Vice President of smth like filmsoc

Friends with the baristas at Starbucks bc he’s just in there for caffeine all the time

We all aspire to be like student hj, just more sleep pls

Seonghwa

Voted most eligible bachelor amongst students

Famous around campus just for being so pretty

He’s one of those ppl you see on like the first day of uni and it’s an instant crush

But you’ll never be able to do anything abt it you just have to admire from the other side of the lecture hall

Actually speaks up in seminars bc he’s done the reading sat next to hongjoong in the library

He looks like he’d play tennis for uni and varsity tickets would sell like crazy bc so many ppl have crushes on that man

He’d bring his lil meal prep packed lunches to uni lol what a little sweetheart

Been pictured in the uni prospectus at least once

Hongjoong makes him go w him to freshers fair for his society to use as bait so he stands there handing out leaflets for a soc he’s not even part of

Yunho

Doesn’t know what’s going on half the time he’s just happy to be there

This is v evident in lectures. Professor could be going on and on in a stats class and he’ll just sit there smiling

His gaming setup takes up most of his room and is also where most of his money goes

Texts u at 4am like hey u wanna get pizza

And you know he’s up at that time bc he’s been gaming all night

Still gets good grades despite the fact that all he does is game?

You ask him how he does it and he’s just like idk?

You are perplexed.

All soft in cute jumpers and hoodies but one day you’ll see him suited up at a formal and wow heart eyes

Super fun at parties too, have u seen that man dance?

You have multiple videos of him twerking

Yeosang

That mysterious boy at the back of class that doesn’t speak a lot but whenever he does its always smth smart af

Types really loud on his macbook

Looks like he doesn’t have any friends

But outside of lectures he’s always w friends that look equally as mysterious and cool

No one on your course knows anything abt him

But you see him at a house party once and he’s just stuffing his face w food having a great time

Feel like his alcohol tolerance is super low

Two shots and he’s out cold

And then you’ll see him again at some niche soc social like basket weaving or smth

Works part time at a cool clothing store like allsaints or cos

Chicken shop connoisseur, knows the best places in town

San

Actually studies rlly hard, i can tell he always gives 110% on whatever he’s set his mind to

Soft student always in oversized hoodies, spinning pens, v enthusiastic and pays attention in lectures

But when hes w wooyoung oh man

The enabler, 110% attitude towards drinking too

Pours drinks w 80% alc 20% mixer

“my mother didn’t raise a quitter”

Type to sprint home from the club bc he doesnt wanna waste money on uber

Will make animal friends otw and bring them home

You wake up and come downstairs the next morning and theres just a pigeon in your living room

On the athletics team which is why he may find it instinctive to run home when he’s drunk

San would like for there to be a greggs on campus

Mingi

ALWAYS napping in lectures, seminars, during lunch, in the library, u name it

Knows the best spots for it tho.

You didn’t know there was a secluded spot w bean bags under the stairs at the back of the library until mingi told you

Never missed 9am lectures but will nap through them instead

Gets freshers flu every year and the cough lasts for months

You hear someone cough in the room over and ur like oh, well there’s Mingi

Gives you the best advice at 4am in the library

Also best cuddles

Studies smth like aerospace engineering but regrets it bc he didn’t know what he was getting himself into

Considers dropping out every exam season but always pulls through w good grades?

Wooyoung

Bnoc thats all i have to say

Has like 4k followers on ig

Always running around campus for no reason

Woo and san together at parties u know its going to be buck fckin wild

Always got ppl swooning over him but he just wants to have fun!

No time for relationships! Only alcohol!

When he studies tho? £3 meal deal and writes 2 sentences kind of guy

Business management OR marketing student I can feel it in my bones

The type to tell u funny stories in a silent library and it takes everything in u to stop laughing

Ppl will look over at you two and youre just holding your breaths on the verge of exploding

Security will kick u out at one point

Tight w the local kebab shop bossman

Jongho

Brings everything in a backpack to uni like a year 7

Need a hole punch? Ask jongho. Painkillers? Jongho. Assortment of multi coloured pens? Jongho

Writes the best notes

They're all colour coordinated in different folders for different modules

All the office ladies dote on him bc he’s so sweet

They all offer him tea and biscuits

Youngest but is the voice of reason in the group

Wy will be like do u wanna get drunk in the library

And jongho is like bro ur deadline is tomorrow are u ok

The type to be filming all the other guys when theyre up to some questionable stuff for the memories

Feel like he’d be on committee for whatever course he’s studying

I get pharmacy vibes from this boy

Got job offers lined up for when he graduates

[iamnotparticularlyproud]

PPB Square: Kink Discovery | @peterparkerbingo

word count: 2.7k rating: mature warnings: none ao3 link: https://bit.ly/3xpiBdx

Summary: Bucky and Peter have been together for a while, but Peter can’t bring himself to talk to his boyfriend about how their sex life is a bit - uh, well, boring. Instead, Peter searches Bucky’s laptop while he isn’t home for any sign of kink whatsoever. To say it doesn’t go as he planned would be an understatement.

Bucky’s amazing. So, so amazing, and Peter could go on about it for days - about his silly nicknames, the way he makes the Brooklyn drawl sound adorable, his unexpected dorkiness and razor sharp wit, how his hands are so calloused but he holds Peter so softly--

Days, Peter could come up with these for days. 

So, it’s not like there’s anything he wishes he could change about their relationship. It’s - they’re - perfect, everything’s been perfect. Bucky’s just so nice, and after Beck, Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever be in a relationship again, let alone one so - so good. So healthy, and so supportive. 

It’s just--

Their sex is so vanilla. Painfully vanilla. The most unconventional Bucky gets is with his dirty talk, and, yeah, Peter loves how his boyfriend will call him his sweet lil boy, and tell Peter how good he takes a thick cock in his tight ass, but that's about as far as Bucky ever goes. 

And that - that isn’t a bad thing, Peter knows that, it’s just. Boring, sometimes, is all.

Peter wishes he could talk to Bucky about it, because the man always stresses communication and talking problems out, but it’s just so embarrassing. Peter’s just thinking about it and he’s flushed, so how could he say the word kink out loud? 

He can’t. He really, really can’t.

So Peter does the only other thing he can think to do.

He steals Bucky’s laptop and rummages for any signs of kink - anything to suggest his boyfriend isn’t as vanilla as it seems. Peter knows he doesn’t have long - Bucky’s out getting takeout from their favorite Thai place, and it isn’t too far - so he doesn’t waste time as he searches all the keywords he can think of in Bucky’s unorganized folders, his internet history that’s never been cleared, the hard drive Peter got him because he complained about memory but Peter was 99% sure he never touched - he was right - and then tries his luck with the recycle bin, but--

There’s not just no sign of kink.

There’s nothing. There’s no porn at all.

Peter’s mind is blown. He hadn’t even considered that he wouldn’t find porn, he thought that everyone watched porn - and unless Bucky knew how to delete specific pages from his browser history, which Peter heavily doubts, because, c'mon - but apparently, Bucky doesn’t.

He considers that, maybe, since Bucky is nearly a decade older than him, he consumes his porn in a different way. Maybe physical movies or, godforbid, magazines.

Peter’s considering looking through Bucky’s drawers and closets until he finds proof of pornography consumption, but then someone’s clearing their throat behind him.

“Jesus, how do you--” Peter exclaims, because it’s nowhere near the first time this six foot hunk of a man has snuck up on him. Then, he glances at the clunky computer in his lap that is obviously not his, and back at Bucky, who’s looking at the laptop, and then at Peter.

“What’re you doin’ with my computer?”

Peter panics, not because Bucky seems upset, because he doesn’t, just - confused, but it’s such a weird thing to be doing, and he can’t lie at all, and this isn’t--

“Does that say porn?” Bucky asks, suddenly leaning over Peter’s shoulder, and he just sounds amused, but Peter goes on the defensive anyway.

“I-It’s just, you never, and I - this isn’t me wanting you to change, or--”

Bucky moves quickly when Peter starts that familiar stress-ramble; he circles around the couch, puts the plastic bag filled with food down on the coffee table and sits next to him, wrapping an arm around his back and shushing him kindly.

“Slow down, doll.” Bucky smiles, sincerity etched in his crow’s feet, “Can’t understand you when you’re talkin’ too fast, remember?”

Peter stops. He nods, then he takes a breath. When he lets it go, Bucky tells him to take a deeper one, so he does, and as he breathes it out, he feels the alarm fade.

Not completely, though. Not with the evidence of his snooping in his lap.

With a glance back at where porn is still typed out in the recycle bin’s search bar and a chuckle, Bucky asks, almost laughing, “What were you doin’, sweetheart?” 

Peter doesn’t expect it, but the fight drains from his body. It’s him accepting his fate, he realizes belatedly.

“I, uh,” Peter pauses, because it’s still so difficult to say the words, “was looking for porn.”

Bucky laughs for real this time, and Peter closes his eyes with a sigh. That wasn’t what he meant to say, at all.

“No - I was looking for y-your porn, like, what you watch,” Peter explains, and Bucky is still laughing, but he waves a hand.

“Yeah, I got that.” He says, making an effort to curb his laughter, “Why, though?”

Peter bites his lip. "Do you watch porn?”

He was scared that meeting Bucky’s question with a question would frustrate the man, but he only looks more amused.

“Why would I?”

Huh?

“What?”

“Why would I watch porn?” Bucky sounds genuinely confused, “We have sex almost everyday.”

Almost, Peter nearly stresses, but catches himself. Obviously, he’s dramatically misread the situation. 

“Y-Yeah, but,” Peter tries to come up with something, anything, “like, maybe, before we dated?”

“I know it’s kinda old, but I got the thing not too long before we met, actually.”

That bit of information also sends Peter reeling, and he almost argues about it - because the laptop isn’t 'kinda old,' it’s ancient - but Bucky speaks before he does.

“Were you lookin’ for the kinda porn I’m into?”

Peter nearly sags with relief. How does he always manage to get it before Peter has to explain? 

“Yeah.”

Bucky’s smile shifts, and it’s - he likes that, Peter notices, and, it’s - it's sexual.

“What, did you wanna tease me?” Bucky licks his lips, “Rile me up?”

Oh. That works, and it’s pretty true, even. Peter can work with that.

He nods. Bucky continues, and he looks so pleased.

“It’s you, sugar,” Bucky brings his hand to Peter’s cheek, and his hold is so gentle, but the calluses are rough, and it’s such a satisfying dichotomy that Peter can’t help but lean into it, “You get me wild.”

If only. Peter’s never seen him be wild. 

But he couldn’t say that. Not when Bucky sounds like he absolutely means it, and it makes Peter’s heart flutter.

Peter has been a bit weird lately. 

Well, Peter is always a bit weird, but it’s a part of his charm. He’s been acting extra weird lately, Bucky’s noticed, and while it’s just as endearing, it’s confusing, too.

He almost calls Peter out on it after he’s found him searching for porn on his computer - more than he had already, anyway - but he just gets so tense when Bucky tries to make him really talk about something. He doesn’t want to bring up that energy - not so late, anyway. 

So Bucky plans to talk to him about it tomorrow.

And Peter thwarts that plan as soon as they wake up. Usually, he’s eager to spend the last day of their shared weekend off together, but before they’ve even had their coffee, Peter’s rushing out the door with the excuse of meeting up with his college friends at a cafe. Not too long later he texted they were going to do an impromptu study group for an upcoming quiz, then, after five hours, texted him they were going to hang out more.  

Bucky tries not to be suspicious of or retaliatory to Peter even more than he’s learned to be with his partners, because the kid’s not had a great track record with boyfriends, to say the least, but this is ridiculous. When he’s been gone for a whole seven hours, under the guise of shoddy excuses, Bucky decides his curiosity needs to be sated more than Peter needs to be coddled, and his new plan is to snoop into Peter’s computer like the kid tried with him. Obviously, if he assumed Bucky would have porn on his laptop, Peter’s got some on his. 

Bucky doesn’t plan to look until Peter texts that he’s on his way home, though. He thinks it’ll be funny if the kid finds himself where Bucky stood last night.

So, after Peter texted that he’s omw, Bucky pulls out his computer. It’s so sleek, thin and light, yet wide, and he hates using it, but he’s dying to know. How much porn could Peter possibly watch, considering how much they have sex, and how busy he’s kept as a student and part-time employee?

Not very much, Bucky assumes.

And holy fuck is he wrong.

He takes a wild guess and searches porn in the convenient - but too bulky, and ugly - search engine in the toolbar, and a stupidly obviously labeled folder, not porn don’t look, comes right up. There’s several subfolders - distinguishing the videos by kink, dear God - and dozens of videos in most of them, over a hundred in a few.

What the fuck.

Bucky’s surprised - Jesus Christ, so surprised - at so many things, but - where the fuck does Peter find the time to watch so much porn? What does it mean that he’s amassed such a collection? How has Bucky never walked in on him watching it? Is there a way to see how many hours of it there are, because it’s a stupidly high amount, definitely--

Bucky takes a breath. He leans back, too, because the little previews are too much to look at, and he takes a moment to appreciate just how understandable it was that Peter was so confused yesterday. It must be unthinkable, to not watch porn, to him. But - Peter’s never even mentioned porn before, not in the half-a-year they’ve been dating, so what was so different about yesterday?

The question has Bucky sitting back up, ready to delve deeper. He starts by reading the names of the folders closer, finding it’s not just organized by kink, but by his favorite pornstars, too. The kid’s got several, all with typical pornstar names, and according to the previews, he’s got a type for big and buff. Checks out.

With another deep, grounding breath, Bucky clicks on the folder name Ultimate Favorites. It’s only got thirteen videos in it, but all the titles are a fuckin’ doozy. It’s shit like Small Twink Fucked Hard, and Daddy Pounds His Boy Until He Cries, and - Jesus fuck - Dom Verbally Abuses Sub While Anally Abusing Him. 

Bucky’s nauseous just reading that last one. He never would’ve guessed Peter was into such rough sex. Not just because the kid gets all wide-eyed and stuttery whenever sex is even mentioned, but because Peter’s just so - soft. In all the ways a person can be, really.

Bucky doesn’t know how to reconcile what he knows Peter to be like with this new information about him. He distantly knows that he doesn’t have to - that Peter’s kinks don't reflect anything about his personality, and acting like they do is only reductive - but the instinct is so strong, he can’t help but fruitlessly try.

Before he can reconsider, Bucky’s clicking on one of the more mildly titled videos - not that any of them are mild at all - just to understand better what Peter’s so into. 

The video loads almost immediately, and it doesn’t waste time with any kind of introduction - there’s suddenly two men on the screen, their size difference resembling Bucky and Peter’s to a ridiculous degree, and the larger one pushes the smaller onto a bed carelessly before climbing on top of him. It’s a bunch of shoving and aggressive groping along with cruel words and name calling, and Bucky’s never been more turned off in his life. He can’t believe this porno is among Peter’s favorites - his boyfriend’s never once let on that this is the kind of sex he’s into.

While he’s staring, Bucky’s on screen lookalike finally quitting with the rough teasing and moving onto the brutal fucking, he hears Peter enter his apartment. Bucky doesn’t mute the video, and Peter’s light footsteps stop immediately. Bucky can just see the look on his face - that caught-in-the-headlights one that makes Peter look more like a deer than Bucky thought a person could - and he stifles a laugh as the steps pick back up, this time much more hesitant. When Peter’s a good foot into the living room, Bucky turns around, acting as if he hadn’t heard him coming in.

With the computer filling the room with sounds of slapping and exaggerated moans, Bucky greets, struggling to keep a smirk off his face,  “Hi, honey. How was your day?”

Peter doesn’t answer him and - yep, there’s that look. Instead, he gapes like a fish at where his computer is steadied on Bucky’s lap, eyes wide and frantic.

“Why’d you never mention this, doll?” Bucky asks, dropping the act as Peter keeps looking like disaster is seconds away. He pauses the video and sets the laptop to the side, motioning for Peter to join him on the couch.

Peter does join him, albeit uncertain and his eyes still trained on the graphic image on the computer screen. He’s quiet as he sits as far as he can from Bucky.

“I--” Peter starts, gaze transfixed on the laptop. “Can you - close that?”

Bucky does. Peter keeps looking at it.

“You okay?” Bucky asks, chuckling.

Peter finally looks at him. He seems scared, Bucky realizes. He closes a bit of the distance between them, leaving some incase Peter feels suffocated, and puts a hand on the back of his neck, a touch Peter always leans into.

He does this time, too. He relaxes some, and Bucky prompts, “Were you scared to tell me?”

Peter relaxes even more, his shoulders falling. He nods. “I know you probably don’t care--”

Bucky interrupts to confirm with a nod of his own, “I don’t.”

“But it’s just--” Peter huffs, eyebrows furrowing, “Embarrassing.”

Bucky nods more. “It doesn’t change how I think about you.” He reassures Peter, “At all.”

“That's good.” Peter breathes, and Bucky can’t help but laugh softly. “I was starting to think it would gross you out.”

It kinda does, but Bucky doesn’t say that. It isn’t important how the porn he’s into makes Bucky feel. 

“No, baby. It doesn’t.”

Peter leans into his side, and Bucky shifts to embrace him. Silence attempts to settle around them, but Bucky can’t help his need to tease.

“So… where’d you find the time to make such a collection?” 

Peter cringes. “I, uh, started it years ago.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t know why he didn’t assume that - it’s a seriously massive collection - but thinking of how far back years suggests, and how Peter is just twenty-two, he can’t help but ask for clarification.

“How many years you talkin’?”

“Uhh…” Peter trails off, seeming to really think about it. Bucky can see the moment he finds the answer, and his expression closes.  “...several.”

Bucky decides to wager a guess. He doesn’t really know why he wants to know this answer, but he thinks it might help him understand just how into kink Peter is.

“Sixteen?”

Peter whines. “Jamie.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Fifteen?”

Peter pulls away a bit to cover his face with his hands, and he whines unintelligibly this time.

“Christ, it wasn’t younger than thirteen, was it?”

Peter shakes his head. “N-No, I--” His words are muffled by his palms,  “I was fourteen.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Peter can’t lie for shit, so Bucky can tell he isn’t just appeasing him. 

Then it hits him just how long Peter’s been fantasizing about this kind of sex.

“You’re really into this stuff, huh?”

Peter burrows further into his hands. Bucky rubs his back, and considers his next words carefully.

“If you want, we could explore some of the tamer stuff you have in there.” 

Peter drops his hands from his face and he looks excited for all of two seconds. Then, his expression falls. “None of it’s… tame. I mean, I guess--” Peter cuts himself off to cough, wincing as he tries to get the words out, “uh, im-impact play isn’t, you know, hardcore, I guess.”

“Spanking and stuff?”

“...and stuff.” Peter says with a flush. 

“We’ll start with spanking,” Bucky laughs, adding just in case, “if you want to.”

But it wasn’t necessary, because Peter brightens immediately. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” 

Peter smiles wide, and Bucky can’t help but return it with one of his own.

[ladyeliot]

Exceeding expectations

Valentine’s Day (Masterlist) 

Request: Anonymous: Hey this is for the Valentine’s Day promps! Tony, ⚡️, enemies to lovers, 4. & 11.

4. “I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up.”

11.  “Cupid just shot me in the ass with an arrow!”

Pairing: Student!Tony Stark x Fem!Student!Reader

Summary: All your life you have been focused on your studies, for you that was all that mattered, but during your third year of university things take a sharp turn and love appears in your life.

Warnings: College AU. SMUT ⚡️

Word count: 7254

A/N: This is very long! It has gotten out of hand. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

At the age of thirteen you had discovered that love, or rather what adults used to call love, because you barely knew what those four letters meant, doesn't always bring you happiness. Jason Filton had sent you a note in the middle of Biology class informing you that you were no longer dating and that his new girlfriend was Sarah Rickman. After reading it, you threw the paper over his head as hard as you could, making all your classmates laugh and you ended up in the headmaster's office. At that moment you decided that love was rubbish, as well as everything else that had to do with it, so you chose to dedicate your life to more important things, such as your studies, and that's how you got a place in one of the best universities in the country.

For the first two years of aeronautical engineering you abhorred any distraction that would make you lose track of your own path. No parties, no conversations of more than ten minutes with anyone that weren't helpful to your future, no going home for holidays, it was all a waste of time that tended to break up your daily routine. Your university lifestyle tended to be unconventional, and unconventional didn't tend to go unnoticed in those places, and it didn't help that you were a year ahead of everyone else and your grades were above average. It seemed that everything stood in your way, but you used to overcome obstacles with great ability, you didn't let anything get to you, especially coming from society.

In the third year things changed, you were offered the possibility of taking two parallel degrees, as many subjects were validated, there was no evidence that you accepted, so in your weekly planning began to appear subjects of mechanical engineering. At no point did it ever occur to you that this choice would bring with it some murky consequences that you did not have in mind. A smarty-pants is not always well accepted in a class when there is already a person who occupies that position, there he was, the cause of all your future ills during the university year ahead, Tony Stark.

It's not that you hadn't competed with people like this before, well, you'd never really come across someone like this before, he was worthy of analysis, one of a kind, any student of psychology or even anthropology would be willing to do a doctorate on him. Although he obviously wouldn't come out of that research alive.

A week after attending those classes, you discovered that he was the same age as you, so he was also advanced in Mechanical Engineering, but the most surprising thing was that he already had a PhD in Physics, which made you wonder what you were doing wrong. Even so, the most curious thing is that he hardly paid any attention in class, he spent the whole time chatting amicably with his colleagues in the back row, but every time he was asked he answered the professor's questions correctly and wittily. He was a scholar, and that got on your nerves, although it was easy for you to hide it.

You avoided getting in his way at all times, but it was very easy for him to do so whenever you were in class, and one point in your favour was that when classes were over you used to lock yourself in your bedroom, and you were lucky that your classmate hardly ever came around, so those 15 square metres were all for you. But even so, the biggest drawback of your third year was not the competition with Tony Stark, it was someone else, James Barton.

James was a boy who shared some Mechanical Engineering classes with you, he was a year older than you and it was more than evident that he was a real inconvenience, because from the first day you entered the Micro/Nano Engineering Laboratory and he sat next to you, you knew you were in serious trouble. You felt the same as when Jason Filton at the beginning of eighth grade invited you for an ice cream in the cafeteria, that's right, that was the closest thing to love you had ever felt, that's why you knew you were in serious trouble.

During the first few months there were no clear developments, mostly because you never noticed any interest on his part. In your case, you hid with all your might the excitement you felt every time Tuesday morning came and you had to share a lab with him, the last thing you wanted was to look like a desperate high school teenager every time you saw him. But by magic, or perhaps fate, things gave you an incentive for your relationship as classmates to evolve.

Apparently James had been down with the flu for a week, so he was unable to attend class that Tuesday, it was obvious to you from the first moment you saw his empty seat. Therefore, Mr. Gregory thought it appropriate, since you always sat next to him, that you could bring him the material he had offered during that class. You were grateful that he thought there was at least a friendship between the two of you, it was an incipient one for you. You were a little reluctant at first, mostly because you didn't think it was appropriate to introduce yourself to him in his dormitory when you had barely spoken a word to each other beyond a morning greeting and a goodbye when you left class, but you chose to accept it as a personal challenge.

It was not complex to find out which dorm you were staying in, nor to find out which room you were in, the complexity was in making proper social conversation, as your social skills were far from what any young person could wish for. Nor did the male gazes cast upon you as you entered the building and began to walk down those corridors to the third floor help, you didn't know if you were in a dorm, a circus or a petting zoo. It made you wonder how those people had managed to get a place at MIT.

You positioned yourself in front of the wooden door with a set of papers and notes from Mr. Gregory's class in your hands, replaying over and over in your mind how you could start an ordinary conversation, but before you could knock on the door someone behind you thought you needed help so with his knuckles he rapped on the wood.

"If you don't knock no one will open the door," said a boy flashing you a friendly smile, perhaps the first you had ever seen in that place, as he continued on his way.

"Come in!" exclaimed a voice behind that door, you knew at that moment it was James.

Taking a breath you slowly rested your hand on the doorknob and turned it slightly, leaving only a small gap to put your head through.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I don't mean to intrude. I'm just dropping off the notes and materials Mr. Gregory gave in class today. He thought they might come in handy for next week's class."

James was lying on the bed, you found that the atmosphere was a little heavy with sweat mixed with his particular scent with hints of cinnamon, but the moment he discovered who his visitor was he sat up and started to pick up some tissues that were scattered on the sheets.

"God... I'm sorry, this is a mess," he said, taking the wastepaper basket in his hands and stuffing everything he could find into it, his tone totally congested.

"No, don't worry about it," you added quickly, stepping into the room. "Don't mind me, I was just coming to bring you the notes and I was just leaving."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, collapsing back onto the bed from flu-like exhaustion.

"That's all right," you gave him a small smile and put the material you had brought on the desk nearest his bed. "I guess you'll understand everything, but if you don't understand anything or need anything at all you can tell me."

"Thank you very much," he said leaning back against the wall, "I appreciate it."

You nodded smiling at him, thankful that the situation hadn't been too complicated, at least so far, so you decided not to push your luck and head for the door.

"Wait," he exclaimed as best he could behind you, causing your footsteps to stop and you to turn back to him. "Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?"

During those moments you were trying to process his request to buy you a drink the dormitory door opened with a thunderous bang against the wall, bringing you face to face with your beloved Mechanical Engineering partner.

"Oops, sorry, am I interrupting something?" he said curiously, contemplating you both gradually.

"Could you not give those bumps every time you come in?" complained James almost incomprehensibly due to congestion.

"Sure mate," having said that he gingerly closed up and walked over to his bed, picked up a book, lay down and pretended to browse through it.

"So?" James looked back up at you waiting for an answer.

It had all happened so fast that your mind had not yet come to terms with the situation, but all you had to do was say "sure", "yes, I'd love to" or "of course, that would be fine", but you only managed to nod with a small smile.

"That's a yes?" he asked trying to clarify your intentions.

"Sure," you managed to say between nods, which managed to extract a smile from your partner. "So... I'll see you next week in class. I hope you get better."

To your surprise you had overcome that personal challenge with great talent, you knew that if your sister were present she would award you the medal for bravery, not only for having talked to a boy, but for having managed to get a possible future date with great elegance, and without hardly expecting it. But what you didn't realise, or at least not until first thing on Wednesday morning, was that you were in for some curious comments from your opponent about the previous day's events.

"So you're going out with Barton," he said almost before he sat down behind you. "I thought your social life was limited to striking up a conversation with the lady at the post office one Sunday a month."

Over time you had learned that the best thing you could do was to ignore that annoying little voice that sat behind you every Wednesday and tried to interrupt you every time you were offering an explanation during class. It was the best way you had found to get through those first few months with him.

But it wasn't all that simple, especially when you and James started a friendship that developed into something a little more serious just before the Christmas holidays. Like any other relationship where two people are attracted to each other the search for intimacy is normal and ordinary, during the third year of university you were lucky that your roommate was practically a ghost and you found the best place to have your own intimacy, because obviously you didn't know why Tony Stark was always in his bedroom, and when he wasn't he used to appear at the most inopportune moments, and worst of all without knocking.

"Are you crazy?" you exclaimed, hiding under the covers. "Don't you know how to knock?!"

"Oh, come on! It's nothing I haven't seen before," he said throwing himself on his bed. "Don't worry about me, I don't care."

At those moments you didn't know whether to get up and cross his face or just not show up there anymore, because things didn't stop there, he used to drag out the subject at hand and make inappropriate comments to you in class, such as "I hope you used protection" or "you forgot your bra" or "if you need any advice you know you can ask me for it". It was quite frustrating, because there was little you could do about it, just ignore him or else he would come over the top.

Apart from that everything seemed to work perfectly with James, or at least that's what it seemed to you, the two months that you had been together things were coming together without forcing them, you met every now and then to go out to eat, you took advantage of the moments you were alone to study and sometimes things generated moments of intimacy, it was the closest thing you had had to a love relationship, although your experience was very basic in that matter in question. So basic that you barely understood a lot of things and you could be very naive about anything to do with social relationships.

Discussions started to become your daily routine, they all came hand in hand because of your clashing characters, he used to have a very evolved social life, three times a week, he even skipped some classes because of the hangover that the night before he had self-inflicted, although you accepted his lifestyle, you didn't share it at all and his constant initiatives to integrate you in his environment didn't usually turn out as he expected. So a constant back and forth ensued from then on, which brought out a character you didn't like.

You began to hear rumours, which you tried to avoid, so as not to get caught in the net. These rumours ranged from whether James had hooked up with Nancy Skelton the night before to whether he had taken her to his room. So every time you sought an explanation he seemed to find himself sufficiently unwilling to offer one. The same thing happened on Valentine's Day.

You had been ignoring the rumours that were torpedoing your ears for two weeks, James had sworn and swore to you that nothing that was going around the halls of the college was true, that he hadn't done anything with anyone at the frat party. You, like an innocent fool, accepted his words, letting yourself be carried away by those green eyes that knew how to make your legs tremble. So that meant that the Valentine's dinner was still on. It was the first time you had bought a dress for a special occasion on your own, you didn't choose to take risks, black was always welcome and straps too, although you really did take risks with the neckline, and with the reddish lipstick. In short, you wanted me to discover that you could also become Nancy Skelton for a night, but apparently I didn't feel like checking it out. You waited for twenty minutes in your room for him to come and get you, but you thought something must have happened, so you headed off to find out for yourself.

Again, as if you were in a circus attraction, and you were the main attraction, you rushed through the corridors of the male dorm with whistles, sexist comments and cheers behind you. It was Thursday night, which meant that the party had started early that evening and most of them had traded blood for alcohol. You knocked on the door, waited a few seconds but no one answered, knocked again, but the case was ignored so you tried to turn the doorknob, but to your surprise the room was locked.

"What the hell?" you asked yourself.

Totally confused you look at your wristwatch, expecting to have got the time wrong, but no, it was 8:35 p.m. just thirty-five minutes later than you had arranged. You stood there for a couple of minutes waiting for him to appear out of nowhere, but the most you could find was one of his mates running past you in his underwear.

"Hey! Do you know where James Barton is?" you exclaimed trying to find an answer.

"In the common room!" he shouted without turning to look at you.

Looking like a complete idiot for not having considered that fact you walked back through the hallway in embarrassment in the direction of the common room, from where laughter, shouting and anything else that involved a group of boys with beer bottles around them was emanating. When you appeared through the door frame there was little time for your presence to be noticed.

"What have we got here?!"

"Oh my god, is this my birthday present?"

"Shut your mouths you idiots!" James stood up from his seat and walked towards you, with a subtle wobble in his body and his eyes completely rolled back in his head. "Is it time already?"

"It's actually been forty minutes," your arms were still crossed preventing his body from approaching yours. You could smell the stench of beer all over him, even his shirt was stained with a few drops.

"All right, all right," he said abandoning the bottle on a bookshelf. "Let's go."

Unable to hold on, and under the watchful eyes and laughter of his companions he offered you his arm, but lost his balance and fell to the ground, right at your feet. You took a deep breath and began to let it out very slowly, but you barely flinched, you couldn't believe what was happening to you at that moment. James tried to get up as best he could and stood back up in front of you, pulling his shirt back on.

"Come on," he made a second attempt.

"No, no James," you said in the most serious tone you could rescue from your broken insides. "I'm not going anywhere with you. But you know what, I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up. So I'm going to take advantage of the reserve we have." You uncrossed your arms for the first time and pointed your finger at him. "Ah! And in case you haven't made it clear, it's over between us."

The cheers went up like you'd just scored a touchdown in the middle of the national finals, but you just kept your composure and got out of the place as quickly as possible. You were so pissed off about the situation, as well as yourself, that you felt the sting running through your veins. You asked yourself over and over again how you had been so stupid as to get into this situation, you, but you couldn't find a coherent answer. You assumed that smoke must be billowing from your head as you cut your way through the labyrinthine corridors to get out of the building as quickly as possible, but just around the corner the one person who could complicate things appeared.

"Hey!" he exclaimed behind you, picking up his pace and coming up beside you. "I was thinking, why go to dinner alone when you can have good company?"

You turned your head to the right, flashing him the most incoherently terrified look you could extract from yourself at the moment, but Tony didn't seem to care enough because even that didn't stop his grin from being wiped off his face.

"Are you kidding me?" your footsteps were rather light. "Oh, of course not! Do you really think I'll accept you coming to dinner with me?"

"Do you have someone better to go with?" his arrogance was pushing you over the edge.

"Of course! Me, alone," you said walking down the steps of the dorm and stepping outside.

"Really, by yourself on the most romantic night of the year, in a small Bistro in downtown Boston?" he said without breaking away from you. "That sounds really sad," he paused. "Do you have a car?"

"Welcome to the world, I don't need a man to go out to dinner whenever I feel like it and there are taxis," you walked as if you were going to miss the train of your life.

"Alright!" Tony definitely seemed to give up and fall in behind you, "See ya!"

You were so upset at the time that the only thing on your mind was to head for the campus taxi rank, and so you did. You were lucky that there were a couple of taxis waiting, so it didn't take you more than fifteen minutes to get to the door of the Bistro, located in the centre of Boston. The place was really charming to anyone's eyes, its round tables were perfectly placed to offer a cosy dinner to any of its diners. The candles offered that romantic air that anyone could want on that night of the year, and the aroma of traditional dishes was wafting from inside, whetting anyone's appetite.

You looked outside through the glass windows to see the couples who seemed to be enjoying a really lovely evening, it was at that moment that your spirited idea seemed to wane, for now it didn't seem to make much sense to go inside and dine completely alone under the watchful eyes of the waiters who wondered what had happened to put you in such a situation. The metre who stood at the door waiting to receive his customers watched you, for you were only a few feet away from him.

"Do you wish to wait inside, miss?" he asked with a pleasant smile.

"No, I..." you shook your head as if to leave.

"I'm here baby," a hand took hold of your waist. "Sorry it took me so long, it's impossible to park in this area."

As you heard that voice and felt that hand on your waist you knew immediately who it was, caramel coloured eyes accompanied by a wide smile were looking at you right next to you, you were about to give him a push if it wasn't for the fact that that metre opened the access door to the place and the last thing you wanted was to make a scene in the middle of the street.

"Did you have a reservation?" asked the waiter, checking the list.

"Yes, under the name of James Barton," said Tony, barely letting you speak.

"By all means, follow me," he began walking among the diners arriving at a small round table just outside the window, where he didn't take a second to light the candle that adorned the table. "Will you have something to drink in the meantime?"

"Yes, what wine do you recommend?" his way of waving his hand embarrassed you, he seemed to want to pretend to be knowledgeable.

"Oh, we have a Château Montrose, which goes perfectly with the meat tastings," he informed her.

"Perfect," nodded Tony, opening the menu.

As quickly as the waiter left, your attitude changed, expressing all your feelings with your face.

"Are you crazy?" you whispered, leaning towards him so that no one else could hear you. "Do you have any idea what that wine might be worth? But more importantly, what the hell are you doing? What are you doing here? What is this?"

"Oh come on, you know if I hadn't come you'd be back in college right now, don't you?" he cocked his head to the side and smiled at you, "Besides, the wine and dinner is on me, just enjoy the night."

"Enjoy the night? With you? Really?" you frowned, it was unbelievable to you that this was happening, but at least he'd had the courtesy to ditch those rock band t-shirts he used to wear and that messy hair, he'd shown up in a white shirt and black peg trousers.

The wine soon arrived and you'd be lying if you said it didn't help the dinner go more smoothly, allowing you to chat like two normal people. You found it hard to let go of that stubborn attitude you have inside you, but when you managed to put it aside you came to discover that Tony could be a lot of fun, even if he didn't share your sense of humour. You spent two hours discovering similarities in each other and also many differences, but it was a fruitful conversation, for the candle that lit the centre of your table was gone. You surprised yourself by observing more than once the features of his face, his honey-coloured hazel eyes, his upturned nose, his full lips and the way he smiled that seemed to bring out your colours every time he did it. But you blamed it all on the bottle of wine you had finished between the two of you.

When they brought the bill he barely allowed you to look at it, as he deposited his american express and smiled proudly at you.

"How about now...?"

"Shall we go back to campus?" you cut him off by stepping outside with a smile you couldn't keep off your face and pink cheeks.

"Well, actually, I was thinking..."

"I'm exhausted," you cut him off again, draping your jacket over your shoulders. "Besides, we have a class first thing in the morning."

" Okay!" he exclaimed in a melodious tone shoving his hands into his pockets. "Then we'll go back to campus."

In three minutes you found yourself sitting inside a red Porsche, which was going at a speed well above what you were used to. From the speakers came the sound of the Australian rock band AC/DC, but without knowing why Tony stopped the music.

"What's wrong?" you asked looking at him quizzically.

"I thought you didn't like it," he shrugged. "You were very quiet."

"First of all, I was listening, I like it," you began, "and secondly, in case I didn't like it you don't have to indulge me, this isn't a date, or anything like that."

"All right," he gave a half-smile and turned the music back on. "So this isn't a date..."

You smiled quizzically at his last words, trying to assume that it had been the alcohol that had given you that little smile and not your subconscious that seemed rather pleased by the last two hours you had spent together. During the drive you couldn't help but laugh when you discovered his imitations of Angus Young, the lead guitarist of the band you were listening to. But the situation changed when the Porsche pulled up right in front of your dorm, but before you had even taken off your seatbelt your door was open and Tony's hand was waiting to help you out.

"Thank you..." you whispered a little reluctantly. "Oh, you don't need to come with me, I think it's rather late, so I'd better..."

" Okay," he nodded smiling, again that wry smile that you knew was going to cause you to either want to come along or not.

"Alright," you said giving up and walking towards the inside of the building. "Don't even think about making a sound."

"Please, I'm all grave," he said behind you as you walked up the stairs, but he didn't keep his word as a stumble caused the sound to bounce all over the stairwell.

"Tony..." you reproached him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he raised his hands in his defence.

Within a minute you had reached the door leading to your room and the awkward moment of saying goodbye was upon you, face to face.

"Okay, well... I guess thank you very much for... dinner and for walking me to the door," you nodded without knowing why in a slightly nervous tone.

"It's been my pleasure," he bowed, his voice sounding utterly confident, the opposite of yours.

"Great... so, I'll see you in class tomorrow," you rummaged through your bag to find your room key and when you had it in your hand and looked back up at him you discovered Tony's gesture biting his bottom lip, so your mouth let out, "or maybe..."

Why the hell had you blurted out those three words, 'Or maybe...' 'Or maybe what?' Your unconscious was working and coming alive in you, your inner self was saying that you didn't want to part with him so soon and that you couldn't wait for him to come into the room with you.

"Or maybe?" a half-smile came to life on his face, showing you part of his tongue running subtly across his upper lip that made your heart race. But finding that you didn't know what to say in that instant, he added, "Are you inviting me in?"

"I..." you looked a little hesitant, but found the courage to face the situation, "Only if... you feel like it."

There was a few moments of silence in which your wives seemed to be electrified.

"All right, but first I think you should know something," he added, breaking the moment of sexual tension that had built up. "The James rumours are true. I caught him and Nancy in our bedroom," he paused and tucked back a strand of hair that had come loose. "I should have told you before."

Why did you feel as if you knew deep down that this event was true? Maybe because it only took you three months of being with James to find out what he was really like, a total prick. But the funny thing is that when you took in those words, the sexual tension returned, making you forget everything he'd told you.

"Okay," you nodded with a blank stare, "So does that mean you don't want to come in?"

Again he made that arrogant smile present again that even as he brought his face close to yours to catch your lips did not disappear. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, crushing your body against the wooden door, preventing you from escaping from that place if you were planning to do so. It was really infuriating, to have his lips between yours and still feel the need to have him closer. You were so lost that the key slipped from your fingers, catching Tony's attention and he opted to pull away from you and bend down for it, you hated those seconds, but instantly you discovered his hands roaming the nakedness of your legs along with his lips rediscovering that new area.

"Come on Tony," you begged, resting your hand on the doorknob so as not to give in to his touch as it slowly crept up your thighs. "Open the door."

With a small nibble on the inside of your left thigh he pulled himself back up to your height to force your lips together as he tried his best to open the door as best he could in the dark. You felt the door offer you passage into a room dimly lit by the moonlight coming through the window. Tony closed the door behind you regardless of the noise he made in doing so.

" Damn it, Tony," you said, pulling away from him.

He took the opportunity to pull your dress up to your waist and wrap your legs around his waist to direct you towards your bed. The position is really intimate, but your head wasn't in the right place to dwell on it at the moment, there was practically nothing romantic about what was happening or what was going to happen in a few minutes. During the ride you opted to get rid of the black dress that seemed to be burning your skin by dropping it to the floor, revealing your naked body only covered by a pair of black panties.

"Shit. Cupid just shot me in the ass with an arrow!" he exclaimed finding his gaze at the level of your breasts.

Tony's body collapsed on the mattress, unable to take his eyes off your body, he maintained an upright, seated position, straddling him. Your gazes connected, in your eyes there was nothing but tension and lust, the passion of two young university students who needed to let off steam as soon as possible. However, inside you both hid a sense of nervousness that you kept from coming out.

Although you'd had sex with James before, you weren't exactly an expert on the subject, but something inside you was working, making it seem like you had no problem with it. In Tony's case you had heard things, but you didn't know how much of it was true or not. Still, Tony's kisses trailing his mouth down your neck were methodical, the way he brushed his tongue, bit into your neck and finished by pressing a soft kiss seemed to transport you to paradise, just as it did him, as you could see it in the hardness forming between your folds. A moan escaped your lips causing your hips to move gently to feel more firmly what was hidden in his trousers.

"Oh, god, do that again," Tony uttered against your ear in a completely gnawed tone of voice.

As if it was a command you were incapable of refusing, you did it again. His hands gripped your thighs firmly and his lips lingered on your breasts for the first time, brushing his lower lip over your right nipple, letting his intense breathing fan it. Your back arched bringing your breasts closer against his mouth, likewise your fingers found themselves stirring his hair. Tony simply played with his tongue against you offering equal attention to both breasts, making sure it was pleasurable, and he assumed he was succeeding thanks to the sounds coming from inside you.

Your hips kept making circular motions pressing against him trying to relieve the need that had built up in your core. Tony seemed to feel the same need so he parted his lips from your breasts and made a sudden movement grabbing your waist and trying to flip you over on the bed, trying because in the process he caused your head to hit the bedside table next to the mattress.

"Shit!" he exclaimed with a surprised look on his face, but your reaction generating a giggle in you, calmed him down expressing a smile. "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay," you say finally taking the position he wanted, lying down on the bed and finding Tony's body on top of yours.

You feel his lips moving over your skin again as he undoes his shirt, uncovering every part of his back with your fingertips. Your whole body was being a mess, the path of his tongue was heading south, his fingertips formed circles around your navel and his mouth had a clear direction, you felt it when his fingers brushed the top of your panties. All you could do was keep your eyes closed with your head on the pillow, bite your lower lip to stop the curses coming from inside you and press your legs against each other.

"Open your legs," he whispered against your skin and then placed a kiss on your lower belly, making all your nerves want to explode. "I'll be gentle, promise."

You feel those words crash against your skin, and as if they were a switch they are able to make your legs open subtly giving way to the fabric of your underwear sliding down your thighs. Tony decides to take his time until he manages to extract them through your feet as he doesn't take his eyes off your completely naked body exposed before him. He slid his fingers around the inside of your legs to again run his lips up and down them so that his hands were free to free himself from your trousers.

"Do you have...?" he asked moving his kisses up your thighs.

"What...?" the word almost came as a plea from your lips.

"Condoms," he said against your skin.

Something in your brain clicked, bringing you back to consciousness in those moments, you lifted your head off the pillow and looked directly into Tony's eyes that were practically over your core in those moments.

"Are you telling me you don't have any condoms?" you asked with a frown, a little gruff at the situation you were in.

"Well, I wasn't really planning on ending the night like this," he lifted his face with a smile from between your thighs, but as he watched your head fall frustratingly against the pillow he added, "Okay honey, don't worry, I'll take care of everything."

As quickly as he uttered those words he managed to get your lower limbs onto his shoulders, meeting again between your thighs. That was the first time you discovered what lips on your clitoris felt like. Your frustration was fully replaced by pleasure, a pleasure that made every part of your body tremble. You really didn't know how you could have missed this for so long. Your hands were fixed on either side of your body gripping the sheet tightly, but there came a point when you couldn't let him pull away from you, so you curled your fingers in his hair. Right now you had Tony Stark kissing and licking your most intimate part and all you could think about was that his movements wouldn't stop.

"Please... Don't stop," you urged between moans, feeling two fingers thrust inside you at your words.

You find yourself in complete disbelief, you're a mess, and you can't help but open your eyes and look at the one causing the disaster, who just like you was a complete mess against your intimacy. That action, along with the speed of his movements inside you and his moans against you, causes all your senses to connect and decide that the time has come to explode. You drop your head back down onto the pillow, arching your back in an attempt to establish a closer connection with him. You're exhaling, screaming his name between your moans without thinking about who might hear you. He continues to consume you, sucking you in as he brings you to full orgasm. Your limbs slowly manage to steady their movements, until the euphoria inside you ends with a soft moan.

Tony subtly withdraws his fingers from inside you as he leaves his wet kisses around your thighs, searching for your gaze amidst the mess of sheets that existed around you at that moment. He finds himself climbing up your body, kissing every part of it gently until he reaches your face where he catches your lower lip between his teeth.

"I told you, I'll take care of everything," he added with a half-smile. "And I think I've managed to exceed expectations."

"It's possible," you kissed him again finding your breathing much calmer. "That means it's my turn now."

With more skill than he did, you were able to get his body underneath yours in an instant, causing his tongue to come out and lick his upper lip. It was obvious that he was tremendously proud of the job he had just done, thanks to how well you had let him know with your facial and guttural expressions. But now it was your moment, discovering that your needs had not yet been fully satisfied and that you had a burning need inside you to feel him in you. Your kisses moved from his lips to his neck, taking on the taste of his perfume. You exerted just enough pressure with your teeth to profess from his throat his sweet gasps that were filling you with madness.

The path of your kisses was present on his chest, which rose and fell because of his accelerated breathing. He was soft, sweat was present on him from the previous exertion, but you hardly thought that fact mattered to you. Your tongue had reached his lower abdomen with great skill, the evidence of which was that Tony had chosen to lose eye contact with your actions and now looked a complete mess biting his knuckles. If it had been any other time you would have enjoyed the scene in front of your eyes causing him to beg, but he had been so good to you and you were so eager to kiss what was hidden by his briefs that you wasted little time in sliding the fabric down his thighs and releasing his erection.

You had been in that situation only once before in your life, so you opted for a marked subtlety in bringing your lips to his tip and licking it clean of his pre-cum. Luckily for you the noises coming from Tony were a map for your movements. you just start by testing the ground, tasting it, feeling it deep in your throat.

"Don't stop, whatever you do. I like that, a lot," his hand wrapped through the strands of your hair as his gaze focused on you.

Those words ignite your movements, you circle his shaft with one hand, accompanying the movements, you find that it intensifies his panting and generates a slight movement in his hips that causes him to thrust his erection deeper against your throat. You bring your free hand to his hips instilling a show of confidence and acceptance of his thrusts, which causes Tony to increase his speed.

"Shit, I'm so close, keep going -," his frantic tone could barely finish the sentence.

You felt the hand disappear from your head allowing you to withdraw right then and there, but his desperation was also shared by you, and just as you had orgasmed against his lips as you couldn't hold him inside you wanted to feel him as much as possible. Throbbing moments later inside your throat, accompanied by curses accompanied by your name coming from inside Tony. His hand returned to its proper place, dropping subtly to your head, enticing you to follow his movements.

Your lewd movements stopped over time as you noticed his limbs returning to their normal function and his breathing resumed its normal rhythm. You withdrew, offering her a soft kiss on the tip, and connected your gaze with hers, which strangely seemed a little embarrassed.

"I hope the walls are thick," you commented with an arched eyebrow.

He merely took in your smiling face and intertwined his fingers with yours to bring you closer to his height. He placed your bodies sideways, intertwining your legs, and with his fingertips he wiped the droplets of saliva from around your lips.

"So... would you say I've exceeded expectations too?" you asked, caressing his bare arms.

"I don't know," he said hesitantly. "I need more than one round to find out."

His half-smile lifted again, in no doubt that that had been the best sexual experience he'd had to date, because not all rumours are true.

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[thistleandthorn-rpg]

Congrats, Jessa, on your app for Katrina Sullivan! Please check out this page for what to do next, and send us her blog within 48 hours.

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias: Jessa

Preferred pronoun: she/her

Age (Must be 20+): 30+

Timezone/Country: ET/USA

RP Experience: Years.

Activity Level: 6-7/10

IC INFORMATION:

Name: Katrina (Kat) Sullivan

Designation: submissive (former Switch)

Age: 33

Birthdate: July 28, 1989

Claim: NPC, Niamh O’Connor (Domme) & Patrick Murphy (co-sub)

Faceclaim: Felicia Day

Orientation: pansexual

Occupation: instructor of aftercare and sexual health/safety courses at Stonewall Prep

Kinks: consent, bondage, sensory deprivation, bratty roleplay/funishment, pain play

Anti-Kinks: age play, scat, vomit, gore

Key Points:

Energetic and friendly

Self-identified nerd

Hot-headed, but finds grounding in her submission

Assertive but respectful

Believes in kind honesty

BIO

Her whole life, the last word anyone would have ever used to describe Kat Sullivan was shy. She was a precocious child and spent much of her free time reading books or tinkering with building toys. As she grew older, she continued to self-teach the topics she wasn’t learning in school. She went to university straight out of secondary school and earned a degree in Electronic and Computer Engineering from Trinity College in Dublin.

Once she moved onto her system studies at one of the premier institutes in Ireland, Kat split her attention between learning about her new Switch mark and working freelance jobs to keep her technical skills up to snuff. On the institute side of things, she met a woman named Niamh in one of her second semester classes, and they quickly hit it off. Niamh was the calm to balance Kat’s stormy personality, and she reined Kat in whenever her temper threatened to get her in trouble. They took things slow and claimed two years after meeting. Shortly after that, Kat took a shy but confident sub named Patrick under her wing, and he quickly became inseparable from them. Niamh eventually claimed him as well, and their family unit was complete.

About 4 months after Niamh claimed Patrick, when Kat was 28, she began working on a freelance job that would change all of their lives. Kat only had an inkling of what was going on as she worked, but the extent of what she was doing was lost on her until it was too late. Her work was used as part of a scheme to redirect tens of millions of euros from an oil company’s bank accounts to an offshore account that was then used to fund several charities that were unaware of the source of the funds. The person who had hired her was caught, and Kat was implicated in the theft. Due to the amount of money involved, she was facing upwards of two decades in jail. Niamh’s father was born in the US, which gave her dual citizenship, and Niamh, Kat, and Patrick decided together to flee to the States. The Irish government has chosen not to pursue her across borders, but they all know that Kat would be arrested the moment she stepped back onto Irish soil.

The trio set up a new life for themselves in a small town in Ohio. Kat took no more freelance jobs, none of them wanting to push their luck, and she went back to school for a Master’s degree in education. One day when in the local library, Patrick noticed a job posting at an institute on the other side of town, which he shared with Niamh and Kat. With Niamh’s blessing, Kat applied to the job, and she’s now looking forward to her first semester on a new career path. Little does she know, happenings in Ireland are soon going to call her Domme and co-sub back home, leaving her temporarily–and then permanently–alone in the US.

BIO QUESTIONS:

Describe your occupational journey and how you got to where you are.

I took a very roundabout path to end up teaching at an institute. I started in a different field entirely, but due to reasons, I found a sudden and abrupt need to change career paths. I’ve always enjoyed mentoring others, and I’ll never stop learning myself, so teaching seemed like a logical next step for me.

How would you describe yourself as a submissive?

I see submission as a part of my identity, but it’s hardly the most important part of it. I was marked a Switch at my institute, and I could have easily been happy claiming as a Domme. Niamh and I clicked in our roles, though, and the rest is history. I fully believe in our system and don’t have any issues with submitting to Niamh or while out and about in my daily life. I wouldn’t call myself a traditional submissive, though. Niamh loves my personality and allows me to be as outspoken and assertive as I feel like being, so long as I always remain respectful.

How do you feel about authority?

Authority is a necessary part of any functioning system, whether that’s the capital-S System or a workplace or a family unit. However, sometimes people with authority can abuse it, and that’s when there needs to be some sort of check in place to keep everyone safe and things running smoothly. I’m all in favor of authority when the people in charge are aware of their power and take measures not to abuse their position. I will always fight against abuses of power, whatever and wherever they may be.