#code name: Z

[synthe4u]

.cod #10

A/N: I INTRODUCE MY 'DREAMS' aka my writings that would only make sense if I was dreaming (they're not actual dreams)

This will include misspelling, missed punctuation, military inaccuracies, cursing, etc. This is not meant to be serious writing nor sensible. It's more of a hit and run; confusion and never gonna get back to you. i have warned you.

og note name: .gen z -cod

Gen Z Reader X COD Characters Platonic

masterlist

“Hey, Z, how did ya get so good”

“I used to do the floor is lava challenge with my demon siblings and they used to try and make me lose so I parkoured and made them fall.”

“Okay….”

Or like Reader has very good leg strength

[xeavy]

Created by Element5Manga this is their twitter.

[numbuhinfinitys]

I come with a question for you, my crandahild! You saw (because I tagged you so you did lol) th3 post about the Delightful Switch, and I was wondering... Would Reyna still be into a normal, individual Sector Z (but they have grown up) or would she somehow fall for the Sector Ʌ Delightful Children? 🐔

It took me a minute [few days, I'm sorry-] to think about this, but finally have sort of a good answer for this?

Since I made the ship between Reyna and the DCFDTL have this kind of love that they'll be "together in any universe", which you can see from her negative and caramelized version, it was kind of hard to think how this would work out. But then I started thinking outside the box and focused more on Reyna's type of person she's into, which mostly leans towards sophisticated/gentlemanly [the DCFDTL], but also strong/determined [Sector Z]

So to put it short, she would admire the grown up Sector Z, BUT would not be into them as a 'crush'. The Delightfullized Sector Australia on the other hand, let's just say she's in denial about her feelings about them.

I'll leave you with this picture tho

[zeb-z]

dude sorry but the fight is still fucking with me I cannot believe that they set up an established code phrase for that exact situation, and yet even when it’s obvious the “Pomme” Etoiles is fighting does not know the word, he can’t get himself to fight at 100 percent, he repeats the question several time over just in case the first time was a fluke, im sick im physically ill

[aroaceofthesea]

I hate coding what do you mean the commented part gives me ac but the other part doesn't

[acapellasampler]

Idk why but I randomly started thinking about the K.N.D movie (the one with numba zero) and realized something out of the blue

....nobody bat an eye over Father/Benjamin essentially successfully kidnapping 5 or 6 (i forgot) different children, Sector Z just vanished like iirc numba one called them "the missing kids of sector z" that's 5 or 6 whole grain ass kids just disappeared and suddenly single bachelor Benjamin Uno has that exact amount of kids and nobody finds that odd, like yes the delightfulization changed them but still!

[airandangels]

You can see the process of reconstructing this person from the ground up in the new Netflix documentary Secrets of the Neanderthals (I think that was the title) and, to sweeten the deal, it’s narrated by Patrick Stewart.

Or hey, given Captain Picard’s love of archaeology, you can just pretend it’s him.

every prehistoric human reconstruction has me thinking “I want to smoke weed with this bitch”

she looks like she would have been an awesome neighbor, like she would have loved menthols and called me baby

[fierykitten2]

I love how the combination of Wake and Leaves not being in any of Perrin’s photos of their trio members and the two of them being not only exclusively found outside Area Zero but also being event-exclusive kinda implies (to me at least) that the two of them escaped and decided to explore. I was having this conversation with myself while having my breakfast this morning (it’s 2 minutes past noon as I’m writing this so I’m sure I finished breakfast in the morning) and I was thinking that the two of them (as a result of being event-exclusive) have probably spent a lot of time outside Paldea but at the very least Wake (assuming it travels without Leaves, which is pretty likely given they’re version-exclusive) probably hasn’t got much further than somewhere in Kalos (not really sure how to fit this into the conversation but now feels like I good time to mention that even with the argument that there’s land between Kalos and Paldea the Teraleak showed that was meant to be in X and Y so I’m counting it as Kalos for the time being). I don’t see either of them scaling that cliff (despite Wake’s strong legs) but Wake can walk on water while Leaves is part Psychic and can probably Teleport (turns out I don’t take into account the ability to learn the move Teleport when I think about Psychic-types being able to teleport. As far as I’m concerned, they just have to be part Psychic to be able to teleport. Might explain why Jirachi and two of the Lake Guardians can use it illegally in the anime) and that thought made me realise it’s sad there’s no chance of them appearing in Z-A. What I think should happen in place of that is there should be an NPC in Z-A who mentions sightings of an unidentifiable (I mean they’re technically not in the Kalos Dex) Pokémon resembling a feminine-presenting Legendary from a far away region in either Southern Kalos or one of the seaside cities (I was thinking Shalour City because it was the first one that came to mind. I’d like to think that Wake followed the water and ended up there. Leaves probably felt like playing with its type advantage to Fighting or something). I mean the location they are rumoured to have been sighted in could vary per day and maybe sometimes they’re not mentioned to have been sighted at all (the implication there being they’ve gone back to Paldea for their event raids although this doesn’t have to coincide with a rerun of their event in SV. Would admittedly be pretty cool if it did though). I’m also thinking that because they’re version-exclusive it would make sense that only one of them has been sighted in Kalos. I’m thinking (because presumably there’ll be a “choose your version, X or Y” situation like how PLA makes you choose between the clans or something) that the NPC (or NPCs, maybe they’re spreading a whole rumour about it rather than just one person being like “I think I saw not-Suicune/not-Virizion in [insert location here]) could start off being ambiguous and describe stuff that applies to both Paradox Pokémon at first but then go into more detail after you’ve chosen a version to be loyal to (I guess colour-coordinating their original versions would mean if you choose X you get Leaves being described and if you choose Y you get Wake being described but I like the idea of doing it the other way round. Mainly because I prefer Leaves and Y but if you’re just looking at the Pokémon and not which versions they represent then Wake makes more sense with the blue X choice and Leaves makes more sense with the red Y choice plus Wake and X tend to get listed first while Leaves and Y tend to get listed second. Wake is my second-favourite Pokémon so it’s admittedly no big loss if I chose the Y option only to discover the mystery (Paradox) Pokémon was a big fluffy Walking Wake the entire time but I think I’d still prefer for Y’s Paradox Pokémon being Leaves)

It won’t happen but I can dream

[that-one-scoundrel]

Z is the same guy who designed the wanderer plushies for twinkle toys!

I saw a theory on xhs that Z might be the 6th LI and is the same guy that had greeted us during cny under the guise of twinkle toys lolol.

:o?

INCHRESTING!!!!!!! And cool!!!!!!

[numbuhinfinitys]

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ KND AUs ⋄ 𓍯

┏━━━༻❁༺━━━┓

「 ✦ Love Switch ✦ 」

More AUs will maybe be made...

「 ✦ Moots AU's ✦ 」

「 What happened to Reyna? 」 - Mourning AU

「 Death Isn't The End 」- Mourning AU fanfic

「 A Mothers Comfort 」- Mourning AU

「 A New Player Has Joined The Game 」 - Artist sona AU

Reference Sheets

「 Reyna A. Rossel 」 - Mourning AU

「 Reyna A. Rossel 」 - Blue Moon AU

「 Reyna A. Rossel 」 - Night-Day Terrors AU

┗━━━༻❁༺━━━┛

[s-s-spinning-coins-s-s]

GROUP PHOTO!

Drew every Caine I could think of- apparently you can fit 50 Caines on one sheet of paper lol (and I’ll draw more next time!)

NAMES—————>

Abstracted Identity (AI, YAI, AAI) @galactic-knightmare

Artificially Organic (AO) @jaxangel

Amazing Ice Skating (IS) @deduukkk

Avatar Code Error (ACE, ACE!Z) @ladymiraclewings

Cannon Caine (C) GLITCH

Critical Error (CE) @the-spam-specialist

Cat!Caine (CC) ANYONE!

Discord RP, Llama’s Caine (RP:S!C, V!S) @llamaflower

Discord RP, Kay’s Caine (DKC) @stupendousflowerdelusion

Dragon Caine (TADC) @ray-of-destiny

Diary: Property of Caine (DPOC) @funnyguy788

Discord RP, Gaygemzz’s Caine (HT) @?

Emotional Caine (EC) @sunnyknight-original

Freak Show (FS) @hootbon

Fight Club (FC) @burrotello

Fazbear and friends, EP: o5 (FAF) zamination

Flaw Swap (FS) ME!

Fan VN Game TADC (VN) @

Gravity Falls Caine (BC) ANYONE!

Gender Swap (GS) ANYONE!

How To Raise (HTR) @bubblebear4life

Human Caine (HC) ANYONE!

Little Nightmares (LN) @iamespecter

My AI My Circus (MAMC, YMAMC) ME!

Night Walks (NW) @funnyguy788

New Ringmaster (NR) @?

Opposite TADC (OC) @?

Power Loss (PL) @sunnyknight-original

Ringmasters Written Reminders (RWR, YRWR, A!RWR) @the-spam-specialist

Reasonable Crashout (RC) @17-noodlebird

Rot For Clout (RFC) AND (CF) @modgirlyreposts-revamped

Road Trip (RT) @17-noodlebird

Replacement Code, swap (RCS) @replacementcodeau

Road to Digital Hell (HT) @gaygemzz

Storybook (SB) @

Spudsy’s Caine (SpC) @?

Swap Caine (SC) @?

Therapy but it's just Zooble interrogating Caine (TBZ) @spark-hearts2

Tumblr, Pudding’s Caine (PC) @puddingandp1

The Amazing Digital Carnival (DC) @sm-baby

The Shadow’s Digital Performers (DP) @theshadowsdigitalperformersau

The Amazing Digital Office (DO) @pikavani

Traveling Circus (TC) @lumineary-arts

The Influence (TI) @spread-the-influence

Undertale Caine (UC) ANYONE!

Wonderland (WC) @endomentendo

-/-

(Please comment and fill in the blanks/fix errors!)

[mimi--writes]

Forever Mine

—"Don't leave me..."

—In which the television you see in your dreams doesn't want you to wake up.

A/N: Someone needed to make a Yandere Tenna fic and I guess it's got to be me. See my vision, I beg of you.

CW: Yandere, Manipulation, Guilt-Tripping

——————————————————————————

The Dreemurr family's divorce is a town wide scandal, the 'incident' causing it forever an unspoken haunt to the townspeople.

To you, however, it's the reason you got this nifty little free TV.

It's cool—works just fine, though it has some parental restriction codes that were quite the inconvenience to get through, but it's free. That's right. Zero dollars. You just visited Miss Toriel one day like you thought any good neighbor would. And luckily for you, she asked if you could take her television off her hands, because no one in the family used it anymore, and it just brought back memories she didn't want.

So you helped Miss Toriel and got a free TV. Sweet.

It sits in your house, affectionately nicknamed "Tenna"—because of its long antennae that almost seem to squirm when you touch them. You know it is far from the most modern form of entertainment, but it is entertainment nonetheless, and besides—you've reluctantly grown attached to this television. Late nights on the couch, just you and it, have become commonplace. Sometimes, you even fall asleep.

And on one of those nights, the dreams begin.

You are in a place so dark it's light again—bright, saturated colors in checkered patterns marking the floors, infomercials everywhere, and tons of little flyers with the same fuzzy TV silhouette your eyes can briefly make out.

Okay, what kind of fever dream this is, you don't even know. Might as well just make the best of it.

You pick up a flyer.

"Coming Straight From Your House—Mr. (Ant) Tenna's Marvelous Mystery Board!"

Some sort of game show- wait, did that flyer just talk?

There is suddenly a spotlight on you.

"That's right!" Continues the voice, with the same chipper yet even timbre of a gameshow host. From the wall behind you pops out-

A man with a television head.

A very hot man with a television head.

You would be remiss not to admit it, really. Sure, he does, well, you know, but the TV-head is really just a bonus! On top of that surprisingly charming suit and nice ass, the TV-head fills your brain with ideas that make you wonder if you are deranged.

You decide not to give them the time of day just yet.

Meanwhile, the man with the television head continues to race about his gameshow.

"Special prizes, physical challenges, and more, only on-"

"I'm in," you say, and for all his bravado, the television man—Mister Ant Tenna from the poster, wait, your TV is named Tenna, wait, are you seriously dreaming about your TV as a hot gameshow host—startles noticeably, antennae going ramrod straight.

"You are?" He says. You nod.

"Uh, yeah. Seems cool."

He claps his hands with excitement, and suddenly, a thermometer appears on screen, immediately cracking with excitement.

"Magnificent! Splendid! The Fun-O-Meter's off the chart folks! Mike, play the applause!"

And pre-recorded applause ensues. You wonder if anyone is actually watching. Except no one is watching, because this is a dream.

You go through the motions—play the games, win the prizes. You get Z Rank, because you have what many would call a massive skill issue. But Tenna does not mind, regarding you with the patience of a saint.

The credits roll, but Tenna seems hesitant.

"Maybe- another round?" He suggests. You nod.

"When I come back," you say, before he can get the wrong idea. "Every good show needs an intermission.'

With that, you leave your dream, certain that it really was just that. A one time dream.

But then, the next late night on the couch comes, and you find yourself in that same dream once again.

Tenna's antennae droop as he speaks to you in private afterwards.

"You sure took a lot time!" He says, trying to sound cheery. It fails, though, considering the way he shrinks in discontent. "It's alright though, I get it. It was fun enough, just me and the board- I've- never been good company anyways, and-"

He's trying so hard to sound alright with it that it just makes you feel even more guilty. His antennae droop, and you avert your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the guilt from stabbing at your heart. It doesn't work.

"You're great company," you say, in lieu of asking how come it was just him and the board when he has all those employees under him. "You know what? I'll stay as many rounds as you want! Seem fair?"

Immediately, he perks up, rapidly growing in excitement, antennae perked back up.

"Absolutely wonderful!" He says. The Fun-O-Meter once again explodes. Applause roars as Tenna starts rambling.

You play and play as many bonus rounds as you can until Tenna is something akin to satisfied. At last, you wake up.

You have slept through the entire day. Angry messages await you, as a result of obligations miserably unfulfilled. You don't even want to check them.

But you do. Typing out responses and making amends.

You wish you were back there, in that dream of yours.

So you stay by the television and fall asleep once more.

And once again, Tenna greets you.

"You came by faster today, darling!" He says. You find yourself liking the nickname, if only because it is him saying it.

You nod.

"That I did."

"Miss me?" He asks, and if he had eyes you just know he'd be batting them innocently.

"No," you start, trying to set up some sort of coy flirtation, but you immediately regret it when he visibly deflates.

"Oh," he says. "I- should have seen that coming. I mean, hah, you're absolutely stellar, darling, and I'm... Just..."

"I- I didn't mean it!" You hastily amend. "I was just joking. Really, I don't even know what I was thinking; I'm sorry!"

He smiles at that, placing a tentative arm on your shoulder.

"You-" he starts, before clearing his throat and trying to regain his composure. "You won't mind if I do this, then?"

And before you can ask what he means, he's pressing a fiery, impassioned kiss to your lips.

It's half-loving, gentle, like you are the most precious thing he has ever held within his arms, half an act of possession, like he wants to lay claim to you in a way no one else can. The possessive half is carried out guiltily, you can tell, the way he gently licks at all the bites he leaves, consoles you when you yelp at the little electric shock he gives.

You've never wanted anything more.

The kiss ends, and you find a gutted sob escaping you. Tenna startles.

"Was that not alright, darling?"

"This- This can't be a dream," you say. You feel pathetic, longing for a relationship conjured up in a fantasy like this. A man born from your own furniture, who obsesses over your happiness like it is his sole priority. That can't be what you want, and yet it is. "Please don't let this be a dream."

You suddenly feel a comforting hand on your back, the touch initially sending a shock down your spine."

"It's not a dream," Tenna says, breath tickling your ear. You can only hope he's right.

You wake up with a start, dreading the day.

——————————————————————————

The relationship of your dreams is half fantasy, half nightmare. Tenna is a sweetheart, indeed he is, always fretting over your every concern and comfort, letting your worries melt away with his games and challenges.

And then sometimes he'll snap, scold you or break, and mere moments later, he'll be on his knees, begging not to leave.

"Please stay," he begs you one night, the blow of the wind that should have been pleasant chilling you to your very core. "You're all I have. Please-"

"I will," you nod, gulping. He doesn't believe you, face contorting into its familiar motion, and regardless of having no eyes, it's oh-so expressive that it immediately makes you shoot up with dread.

"Say you love me," he whispers, shaking you with a manic sort of feel. "Say it."

"I love you."

"I don't believe you."

"I- I love you," you say. "Please."

And like some sort of trance has been broken, his head jerks, the hands that were only just shaking you now cradling with the gentleness you normally know.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, kissing reverently as if that'll prove anything. "Don't leave me. Please."

You know you won't. You can't. You'll keep waking up later and later in the day, letting him take more and more out of your time. He is greedy, absolutely ravenous when it comes to you, and he'll devour you whole if that's what you offer.

And yet you offer yourself whole anyways, because you just can't say no.

Time passes. It's all a blur. You remember less and less of your day to day activities, and more and more of your dreams. Of Tenna, sweet and charismatic and pleadingly manic the next. How he beckons for you to stay even when the ring you now recognize as your alarm screams for you to wake up.

And how could you not, when his kisses are so inviting?

It all comes to a head one night.

"Stay," he murmurs, serving you dinner. You sigh.

"You know I will," you say.

"Not like that," he says. "Stay here. Forever."

"For- ever?"

Your eyes widen as the implication of his words catches up to you all too late.

These dreams- no- they're-

"I have a life back outside," you say, panicking as his antennae twitch in displeasure.

"Then you'll leave me to rot...?" He asks, falsely resigned. You gulp. You know him better by now. You know how intelligent he is. How assured.

He knows exactly what you'll say, that he knows you know but you'll do it anyways, damnit-

"That's not what I mean," you say. He sighs.

"Of course you can tell yourself that!" He says. "I really am insignificant... Just a tryst-"

"I'll stay," you say at last, acquiescing as you always have. He beams, kissing you like a touch-starved puppy, and you forget yourself for a few moments.

As far as any of your friends and family know, you will never wake up again.

But as far as you know, intoxicated by the seemingly permanent love in the air, you are the most awake you have ever been.

[blood3red]

Usually in the military, your code name is something you did embarrassing or a moment you and your teammates had a laugh about. An example would be if you had screamed at the sight of a spider on base, the code name ‘spider’ or ‘blackwidow’ would likely be given. This means that Task Force 141’s code name would actually be of embarrassing moments for them. Here’s what I HC they would be:

Ghost: Is so silent that there had been multiple times where he had accidentally snuck up on soldiers and scared the crap out of them. One rookie literally almost pissed themselves because of this.

Soap: Always sure he had liquid soap because he is scared that someone will bang him in the showers if he drops a bar. He is convinced this will happen.

Roach: He found a roach in his food and literally vomited in the nearest trashcan afterwards. Never ate that food since.

Price: While it is his last name, he is also called this because the boys caught him carrying coupons in his wallet. They giggled like a bunch of schoolboys and called him old. Price did not find it funny and explained that in an economy like this, he’d do anything to save money.

Gaz: Not once, but on five separate occasions, he called gas, “gaz”, with a “z” while filling up the tank of one of the vehicles. It was one of those moments where you didn’t know that’s actually how you say it, He literally thought that was how you pronounce gas. That was until Soap told him it’s “gas”.

[sundove88]

Can someone deep fry this man?!?!

10 Worst Dads in Pop Culture

10. Goku (Dragon Ball Z)

If you’re a good warrior, you should be just as good as a dad!!

9. Endeavor (My Hero Academia)

Ozai, but tamer.

8. Father (Codename: Kids Next Door)

Never hire him as a babysitter.

7. Ghetsis (Pokémon)

Your fashion style hasn’t improved. Neither has your parenting.

6. Shou Tucker (FMA: Brotherhood)

Sir- the CPS would like to have a talk with you.

5. Trigon (Teen Titans)

Raven’s got her own family. You get a pass.

4. Peter Griffin (Family Guy)

Bad. Dad. That’s all.

3. Darth Vader (Star Wars)

I AM your father. Enough said.

2. Frollo (Disney)

Yeeep. You’re getting life sentence.

1. Firelord Ozai (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Burn, baby, burn!

[saturnsag3]

Study Buddy - will smith x macklin celebrini

summary: this isn’t in the same universe as my other nerd!mack x frat!will blurb but sort of the same vibe

wc: 3,367

The thing about college was—well, okay, there were a lot of things about college that Will Smith didn’t like. Early classes, walking uphill in the snow, overpriced textbooks he never cracked open. But right now, the biggest thing was Statistics 2104.

He didn’t care about z-scores or regression models. Didn’t care about T-tests or p-values or whatever fresh hell was on this week’s quiz. What he did care about was the fact that his coach had just benched him until his grade went up.

“You’re a leader on this team, Smith,” Coach had said, pacing his office like he was delivering a TED Talk on discipline. “You want to play Friday? Show me you can pass your damn class.”

So here he was, sitting in Professor Delaney’s office with an empty water bottle, an even emptier brain, and just enough charm left in the tank to try and convince her not to ruin his life.

She peered at him over her glasses. “Will, you’ve failed the last two quizzes. Your attendance is spotty. Your last submitted assignment—” she held up a stapled packet with what looked like red blood all over it, “—was missing three of the assigned pages and cited TikTok as a source.”

Will cleared his throat. “Technically, it was on the STEM tab so—“

“I’m assigning you a tutor,” she cut him off. “You don’t get a say in it.”

“I wasn’t gonna argue,” he said quickly. “Actually, I—yeah. No. A tutor sounds... great. Productive. Go team.”

She raised a brow. “Macklin Celebrini. Pre-med. One of my top students.”

Will sat up straighter. The name sounded familiar—he was pretty sure they shared a row in lecture.

“The guy who sits across from me?” he asked. “Dark hair, kind of quiet?”

Delaney nodded. “That’s the one. He already agreed to help you.”

Will exhaled, half in relief, half in... something else. He didn’t know Macklin, not really, but he’d noticed him. Always early, always prepared, the kind of student who probably had color-coded notes and didn’t miss a single lecture. The kind of student Will needed if he was going to survive this class.

“Okay,” he said. “Yeah. I can work with that.”

Delaney didn’t smile. “Library. Four o’clock. Don’t waste his time.”

---

Will was late.

Not by much—five minutes, tops—but enough that he had to jog the last stretch to the library and burst through the glass doors like he was arriving at a frat party instead of a study session. His hoodie was half-zipped, one earbud still in, sunglasses perched cockily on his head like he hadn’t realized they were indoors now. The tail-end of someone’s coffee order announcement trailed behind him as he spotted the table near the back.

There he was.

Macklin Celebrini.

No laptop screen could hide the fact that he was objectively good-looking, and unfortunately for Will’s ability to focus, the kid looked way too composed for someone voluntarily hanging out with a failing jock. His brown, straight hair sat fluffy and light on his head, a single AirPod sat idle on the table next to his tea, and his notes were already spread out in neat rows—highlighters uncapped, stats textbook open, a few post-its stuck to the top margin.

One of them read: WILL, in sharp, all-caps pen.

Will pointed as he slid into the seat across from him. “You made me a place card? That’s kinda cute.”

Macklin didn’t look up right away. “I wasn’t sure if you’d show up, so I figured I’d at least get something useful out of this and work on labeling things.”

Will grinned. “You label your friends?”

“We’re not friends.” Macklin replied flatly.

Ouch.

Will put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Damn. Cold start.”

“I’m not here to warm you up,” Macklin said, flipping a page in his notebook. “I’m here to help you not fail. So let’s focus.”

Will leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm, eyes very much not on the textbook. “I’m focused.”

Macklin didn’t look up, but his pen paused mid-sentence. “Staring at me doesn’t count as focusing.”

“I disagree,” Will said smoothly. “You’re clearly the smartest guy in this room, so I figure if I just absorb your aura or whatever, I’ll magically learn the difference between a mode and a median.”

Macklin exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “You’re literally going to fail.”

Will shrugged. “Not if I have you.”

That got him a look. Macklin finally glanced up, slow and measured, eyes scanning over Will like he was solving for X and the answer was deeply disappointing. “Flirting won’t fix your GPA.”

“Is it flirting if I’m just being honest?” Will shot back, smirking. “You’re kind of famous on campus, you know. Pre-med, full ride, on first-name basis with every professor. You walk like you’ve got somewhere more important to be.”

Macklin blinked once, then turned his laptop so the screen faced Will. “Do you know what a mean is?”

Will smiled, unbothered. “You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

Macklin didn’t so much as twitch. “Wow. A stats pun. That’s original.”

“You wound me, Mack.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“See, this is going well already,” Will said, propping his feet on the empty chair next to him. “I’ve learned your name and a boundary. Next time we might even get to standard deviation.”

Macklin closed his notebook, slow and deliberate. “You’ve been here seven minutes and you haven’t absorbed a single number.”

“I’ve absorbed plenty,” Will said, eyes very obviously dropping to Macklin’s hands. “Mostly visual.”

Macklin’s jaw flexed. “You know this isn’t a date, right?”

“Yet,” Will said, and winked.

It earned him silence. Not shocked silence—just the kind that came from someone who was very used to being hit on and very used to not caring.

Still, Will thought he saw it—just the slightest twitch at the corner of Macklin’s mouth. Not a smile. Definitely not. But something... almost amused. Almost.

“I’ll quiz you,” Macklin said finally, turning the notebook back to himself. “If you fail, we’re moving to the basement study rooms where there’s no one to perform for.”

Will’s smile widened. “So you are looking at me.”

Macklin didn’t look up. “One more word and I start charging you by the minute.”

“So, the mean,” Macklin began, tapping his pen against the textbook like he was trying to summon patience from its pages. “Is the average. You just add all the numbers and divide by how many there are.”

Will didn’t respond.

Macklin glanced up. “Will.”

Will was already looking at him—had been, actually, this whole time. Chin still in his hand, elbow on the table, eyes dragging unapologetically over Macklin’s face like it was more interesting than anything numbers had to offer.

“What?” Will asked, all faux-innocence.

“You’re not listening.”

“I am listening,” Will protested, straightening up a little. “Mean equals average. Add, divide, boom. Got it.”

Macklin narrowed his eyes. “Then give me the mean of these five numbers.”

He scribbled them down on a post-it and slid it across the table.

Will didn’t even glance at it. “I’ll calculate it if you smile.”

Macklin blinked. “Excuse me?”

“One smile,” Will said. “Just a little one. Then I’ll do the math.”

“I’m not a vending machine. You don’t insert charm and get expressions back.”

“Worth a try.”

Will leaned over the table, reaching for Macklin’s pen. His fingers brushed Macklin’s knuckles—on purpose—and lingered just a half-second too long before he pulled the pen back and uncapped it with his teeth.

Macklin stared at him. “You have your own pens.”

“But yours looks smarter.”

“That’s not how pens work.”

“It is when you use them,” Will said smoothly.

Macklin said nothing, just looked vaguely toward the ceiling like he was regretting every life choice that led him to this exact moment.

Will finally looked at the post-it. “Okay, so—five numbers. Add them. Divide. Easy.”

“Not if you take forever doing it.”

Will pretended to scribble something down, then paused and looked up again. “You smell good, by the way.”

Macklin’s pen froze mid-word. “What?”

“Didn’t think you’d be the type,” Will continued, leaning back and drumming his fingers against the table. “But it’s subtle. Clean. Like—you just did laundry and read for pleasure.”

Macklin blinked. “What does reading for pleasure even smell like?”

“Vanilla and rubbing alcohol.”

“...Are you high?”

Will grinned. “No, but you’re starting to sound like my type.”

Macklin huffed and looked back at his notes. “I’m not your type.”

Will tilted his head, genuinely curious. “How do you know that?”

“Because I know you.”

That gave Will pause.

Macklin didn’t look up when he said it—didn’t act like he’d dropped a bomb or anything—but the words hung there, heavy and real.

“You know of me,” Will said slowly.

“I know you,” Macklin said again, more evenly this time. “Will Smith. Greek life king. Wing night champion. Campus hockey god. Very good at pretending nothing matters until it suddenly does.”

Will stared at him, surprised.

“And now that your season’s on the line, here you are. Failing statistics, flirting with your tutor instead of learning the material.”

Will opened his mouth, closed it, then leaned forward again—this time more serious, less performative.

“Okay,” he said. “That was... a little hot.”

Macklin rolled his eyes, but there was definite color rising in his cheeks now, high and pink and fast.

“You’re exhausting,” Macklin muttered.

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Do you ever stop?” he asked, flipping a page aggressively.

Will tapped his pen against the table. “You could make me.”

Macklin gave him a long look. “How?”

Will leaned in again, close enough to make Macklin’s shoulders go stiff.

“Tell me to stop and mean it,” Will said, voice low.

Macklin didn’t answer right away. For a second, he just stared, expression unreadable.

“Do the math problem, Will.”

Will smirked. “What if I get it wrong on purpose so you’ll yell at me again?”

“I swear to God—”

“I like when you’re mean to me,” Will said, smug.

“Try me again and I’ll make you do flashcards,” Macklin threatened, standing his ground.

Will put both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. No need for violence.”

He finally leaned back and actually looked at the numbers this time. Macklin watched him from the corner of his eye, like he didn’t trust him to even attempt the problem without saying something ridiculous.

Will scratched something down. “So the mean is... 12.6?”

Macklin blinked. “That’s actually correct.”

Will lit up like a kid who just got goldfish and a sticker. “Look at us! Learning and bonding.”

Macklin just shook his head, but his mouth twitched again—almost smiling, almost giving in.

Will leaned across the table again, sliding Macklin’s pen back toward him with two fingers. “You’re really good at this, by the way.”

“Tutoring?”

“No. Looking unimpressed. It’s hot.”

“Jesus Christ,” Macklin muttered.

Will grinned. “You’re thinking about smiling, I know it.”

“I’m thinking about faking a medical emergency so I can leave.”

Will leaned in once more, voice dropped low, like a secret. “Just so you know... you already make stats my favorite subject.”

Macklin didn’t respond. But  when he looked up, there was a definite smile tugging at the corner of his mouth—and he didn’t even try to fight it.

---

By their third session, Will had stopped pretending he hated statistics.

Not because he liked it but because he liked the way Macklin’s expression twitched every time he said something just dumb enough to be funny. He liked how Macklin always showed up early, already halfway through a green tea and flipping through his meticulously highlighted notes like he hadn't spent the last two hours prepping for a tutoring session he claimed not to care about.

Will noticed everything.

The way Macklin tapped his pen against the side of his mug when he was thinking. The way he curled his hand protectively over his notes when Will leaned too close. The way he tried very hard not to laugh whenever Will made some inappropriate joke about frequency distributions and one-night stands.

It was slow—painfully slow—but Macklin was cracking.

Just a little.

It started with the eye rolls. Then the muttered "You're impossible"’s. Then, the fifth session in, Will made some dumb pun about regression and Macklin actually laughed. Like, a real, startled huff of a laugh that caught both of them off guard.

Will had blinked at him. “Was that a giggle?”

Macklin had gone red instantly. “Shut up.”

So of course Will spent the rest of the session trying to make him do it again.

He started taking the tutoring slightly more seriously—not enough to stop flirting, obviously, but enough that Macklin stopped threatening to quit every ten minutes. Will showed up (mostly) on time. He answered practice questions with slightly less whining. He even—once—brought Macklin a green tea before he could get one himself.

Macklin stared at it like it was poison.

“You memorized my order?” he asked, flatly.

Will grinned. “What can I say? I’m observant. Also, the barista said you go there so often they thought you lived upstairs.”

Macklin tried not to smile, and failed.

“Don’t read into this,” he warned, taking the cup anyway.

Will just leaned back in his chair, laced his hands behind his head, and said, “Too late.”

Their sessions kept going like that: Will making jokes, Macklin pretending not to like them. Macklin explaining concepts, Will interrupting every five minutes to ask why he smelled like vanilla and pain suppression. Somehow, amidst all the chaos, Will’s test scores climbed. Not by much, but enough.

And Macklin... stopped acting like he hated being there.

He didn’t say it, of course. Would probably deny it if Will ever asked. But he didn’t flinch when Will leaned in close anymore. Didn’t move his hand when Will’s brushed his under the table. Didn’t sigh as loud when Will texted him outside of tutoring hours.

In fact, by week four, Macklin texted him first.

Just once.

Just a curt: bring your notes this time. and try not to smell like gym bag + cologne. see you at 4.

Will had smiled at his phone like an idiot for a full ten minutes after that.

---

Will practically burst into the library like he’d just scored the game-winner in double overtime. He didn’t even try to hide the shit-eating grin on his face, practically jogging over to their usual table with a paper clutched in his hand and his backwards cap hanging off one ear.

Macklin didn’t even look up. “If you’re about to show me a meme, I’m leaving.”

Will slapped the graded exam onto the table like it was a trophy. “Seventy-seven.”

That got Macklin’s attention.

He blinked. Then again. “Out of... a hundred?”

Will snorted. “No, Macklin, out of a thousand.”

Macklin’s brows shot up. He leaned forward, snatching the test and scanning it like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Wait—this is actually... wow.”

Will beamed, obnoxiously proud. “Say it.”

Macklin frowned. “Say what?”

“Say I’m a genius.”

“You got a C.”

“A strong C,” Will corrected. “A C with ambition.”

And then—just for a second—Macklin actually smiled.

It was quick, and it wasn’t cocky or sarcastic or tight-lipped. It was genuine. His whole face lit up, eyes crinkling, like he couldn’t stop it even if he tried.

Will saw it.

“You’re proud of me,” Will said, voice sing-songy.

“I’m—no.”

“You are.”

“It’s just—” Macklin floundered, pushing the paper back across the table like it had burned him. “I didn’t think you’d break 70, so... congratulations, I guess.”

Will leaned his elbows on the table and tilted his head. “That was dangerously close to a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Will smirked. “Too late.”

Macklin tried to recover, but his ears were pink, and he was avoiding eye contact like the test score had personally offended him.

Will, of course, couldn’t leave it there.

“So,” he said, stretching casually. “What happens if I get an 80 on the next one?”

Macklin raised an eyebrow, wary. “You get a slightly better grade.”

Will shook his head. “No, no. I mean, what happens between us.”

Macklin blinked, already regretting everything. “Nothing happens between us.”

Will gave him the look. “You smiled when I said ‘77.’ That was basically second base.”

Macklin rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Will leaned forward, grinning. “If I get an 80 on our next test, you have to let me take you out.”

Macklin stared.

Will held up a hand. “No games. Just one date. Could be coffee. Could be dinner. Could be that weird farmer’s market you pretend not to like even though I saw reusable tote bags in your car.”

“You went through my car?”

“I didn’t go through it. I walked past it. Noticed things. I’m observant.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And yet you keep tutoring me.”

Macklin hesitated. He was quiet for a second too long, and Will knew he was considering it. Like, actually weighing the pros and cons of Will asking him out.

Finally, Macklin sighed, slow and dramatic.

“Fine,” he said. “Deal.”

Will blinked. “Wait. Seriously?”

“If—and I mean if—you get an 80 or higher.”

“Oh, I will.”

“But—” Macklin added, holding up a finger. “Rules.”

Will grinned. “Lay ‘em on me.”

“One: no bragging to your friends. Two: it’s not a date, it’s a hang out. And three: if you’re late, I walk.”

Will laughed. “That’s... actually reasonable.”

Macklin shook his head, but he was smiling again—smaller this time, secretive. Like part of him really did want Will to get that 80.

Will sat back, already plotting flashcards and study sessions and possibly bribing the professor (kidding—kind of).

“Better clear your schedule, Macklin,” he said, eyes bright with promise. “I’ve never wanted an 80 more in my life.”

sages thoughts⋆˙⟡: i love this dynamic so much and if you guys want you can send me requests for them, i hope u enjoyed!!