#average ap student | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writing-mlm · 3 months

Note

Hey pookie, can I please request a Damian x male reader where they're enemies/rivals to lovers? Like both of them are the top students in their college and they tried to top the other by getting a better grade and showing it off to the other?

(can I please have soft damian too? Please 🙏)

Summa Cum shut the fuck up [D.W]

Summary: Stanford was your dream and some rich kid wasn't going to stop that, but damn those party lights make him look really nice. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Male reader WC: 5.2k a/n: ngl in the first draft the roommate died and it was so left-field field I had to rewrite the whole thing

Summa Cum Lade and Valedictorian, that was the only option.

Having been your high school valedictorian, gotten into the national honor society, and taking every single AP class you could all four years just for a chance at being at the top. Over seventy applications across the U.S. and every single one had a large accepted letter attached to it. It was your moment— Stanford was yours.

You’d taken out loans for whatever your scholarships didn’t cover, like your meal plan and housing. But it didn't matter, you were prepared for anything and everything. Nothing was about to come between you and that number-one spot.

Until you saw Damian Wayne.

He lived across from you with your roommate's best friend, Jaime Reyes. But the two were painfully different and Jaime would more often than not hang out in the common area just to get away from their suffocating dorm. As such, their dorm door was painfully barren in the hallway filled with decorated doors. Not that Jaime didn’t try, it’s just Wayne would take it down as soon as he noticed. Not to mention Wayne had a thing for glaring at anyone who dared to knock on his door. Never mind that Jaime had been making friends left and right.

You didn’t care at first, why should you? Some rich kid who doesn’t want anyone to steal his valuables. It’s whatever, not like it’s going to affect you.

Until it did.

The two of you happened to have most of the same classes, being the same major and all. And at first, you didn’t pay any mind to him, he was just another one of the kids in the sea of students until the first marking period came around.

And his name was above yours.

You remembered staring at your screen, looking at the 99.7% right below the 99.8%. It was the first time since elementary school that you had come in second. It made this feeling bubble up and you nearly had a breakdown. That feeling was pure hatred. This— this stupid rich boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth was not about to take away your goal.

“Looks like you got competition,” Jaime had laughed from his dorm. You’d only heard it because you needed some fresh air before you tried to scoop your brain out.

“The gap won’t be as small next time,” Wayne replied as Jaime opened the door. The two of you made eye contact while Jaime awkwardly tried to excuse himself to the bathroom.

You’d be damned if you let some rich kid who probably bought their way in be better than you.

You spent all of your free time at the school library or in the common area at night, studying and memorizing. Homework and projects were done in record time and you absolutely used the most out-of-office hours with your professors. All of whom were confused as to why their top student was coming in without needing any actual help.

Test after test, you saw that the top two students were you and him. Your first finals were tough though. You probably averaged an hour's worth of sleep that entire week and drowned yourself in whatever textbooks or worksheets you could to prepare yourself.

“(L/n),” Wayne greeted you as the two of you were in line at the TSA. Break officially started the next day but due to your finals being done, you got to leave earlier.

“Wayne.” It’s a little surprising seeing the son of a billionaire fly commercial, let alone with Spirit Airlines but to each their own. You didn’t care enough to give it another thought. His eyes wander over you and he quietly hums. It doesn’t look like you’ve packed anything other than clothes and toiletries. And your electronics.

He isn’t stupid. He knows you’re overworking yourself to be the best in school. He knows you obsessively check over the dean's list, that you probably have an alarm to make it a point to never drop below the number one spot for the freshmen. Overall, you rank three, which you’ll take. There are smarter people than you, just not anyone in your year.

A part of him wanted to relax a bit, and make himself get a few questions wrong to ensure you remain in that number one spot. Maybe then you’ll ease up on yourself and not look like a zombie every single day. But he can’t bring himself to. It feels like pity and Damian Wayne doesn’t do pity.

Besides, he’s never had someone to go head to head with him who wasn’t almost a decade older than him. To him, this rivalry was fun. To you, it was a means to an end. You felt that deep within you, you needed to beat him. If you weren’t willing to sacrifice your time and energy for that then what was the point in high school of isolating yourself?

As the line moves up, you cover a yawn by rolling your neck. This stupid red-eye flight is worse than any final you’ve taken.

You’re beyond tired and you’re sure your expression displayed nothing but that but you were counting on that nap in the flight to fix that.

Thankfully, there’s not much of a wait as you’re at your gate less than half an hour later, checking in.

“Oh,” The man at the desk pauses as he scans your ticket. You panic a little, did you get the dates wrong? The time? The location. Shit, maybe those hours of lost sleep had gotten to you. “You’ve been upgraded from economy to first class. Enjoy your flight.” He smiles and hands you back the ticket. You thank him and take your seat, silently happy you were going to sleep in first class.

—

Returning to Stanford from winter break, you were happy to be back. You felt wasted— almost hollow not studying at home, as if nothing else mattered except studying. But your family didn’t let you get much studying in, after four months apart they missed you. A lot. And you went back to where your family was from to visit them instead of going home so you were never given a moment of

solace unless you were asleep. Your siblings and your extended family were always around you, asking you about college, how they’d seen your grades, and how exciting it was that you were in such a huge school.

It also felt a little weird without having Wayne there. In a weird sort of way, you missed glancing at his results to see if he got higher than you. To share those smug glances as you passed each other to the showers. Like it or not, he’d become a staple in your day-to-day life on campus.

You found yourself daydreaming about him being there as your family had parties and celebrations for various reasons. The holidays, your return home, and two birthdays happened in those two months you were away from campus. And they were sad to see you go for another four months.

Of course, you returned with a bunch of gifts and mementos from your family.

Wayne noticed it first, he saw you return to your dorm actually looking human. He’d gotten so used to the eyebags and the pain medications you’d take because the headaches were getting too bad, and the early signs of hand tremors you tried to shake off. A part of him was glad you were taken care of during the break, he’d seen a lot of people break down in Gotham for less and just hoped he didn’t have to deal with that at Stanford.

Maybe he just didn’t want that to happen to you.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he watches as you fall into the same pattern. And no one around you seems to give a shit that you’re basically slowly killing yourself. He resents Frankie in a way, as a roommate and a friend of yours, he has the most power in that situation to force some sense into you. Instead, he jokes and laughs at your state, unaware of how damaging it truly is.

“All that studying won’t help you much, (L/n).” Wayne says as he walks past you the second week back from break, two textbooks tucked under his arm and a cup of water in his hand. You glare at him but only for a moment before going back to reading. For some reason, you can’t really focus knowing he’s around you. Somewhere, probably watching you. Hearing him sit a table away, you check the time for the first time that night.

4:34 am

What was he doing up so late? Normally, you had the common area to yourself at this time. No one in their right mind would be awake at 4:30. Maybe he was feeling the stress of the new classes, too. Or maybe Jaime was snoring too loudly and he figured since he was awake he should study, too.

Either way, he wasn’t going to take away from your study time. He already occupied a space in your mind against your will. And that was more than enough.

Feeling a yawn crawling its way up your throat you swallow it back down and reach for your cup of energy drink mixed with coffee when you feel something hit your neck. You can’t tell what though, as the second you feel it, you’re out like a light. You do feel a hand save your head from hitting the hard table, though. But it was the last thing you remembered from that night.

—

“You’re finally awake!” Frankie, your roommate, greets you as he walks into your dorm with a slushie and cupcake in hand. You’re sitting, blinking at the floor trying to remember how you ended up in your room.

“Did I start sleepwalking?” You croak out, your mouth dry and throat tight. Frankie only grins and sits on his bed, watching as your face scrunches at the pain. “God, did you leave the window open again?” Blinking over to the window, you see it wide open and groan, throwing yourself back down to the bed.

“Wanna head down and grab lunch? It ends in like twenty,” He asks, grabbing his phone from his pocket and checking the time. “Nineteen minutes until lunch is over.” So it’s almost three. You’d slept most of the day but it was a Friday so you didn’t have any classes. You didn’t miss any classes, thank god.

Then again, you could’ve been studying.

“I’m good,” Standing up, you crack your back and sigh. Not that you’d admit it, but you needed that nap. “Gotta shower and study.” Frankie frowns, watching as you collect your stuff before leaving the dorm. As you leave, he sees Wayne exiting his room and the two of them make eye contact. He shakes his head and Wayne turns to watch as you leave before nodding to him and leaving.

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave. You’re stumbling and still trying to shake the sleep off, unaware that your left pants leg was halfway up your thigh and the right one was somehow twisted around. He grumbles and rushes to catch up to Wayne.

Half an hour later and you’re inside the library. There’s one seat you’ve always sat at and you’re glad to see it’s empty; seeing as you’d be spending most of the day there.

Setting your stuff on the table that’s pressed against the wall and diving back into where you left off the night before. It’s perfect in the library, there’s hardly anyone inside and the temperature finally isn’t bone freezing or blistering hot. Your headphones are on and there’s no one around, so you’re free of any possible distractions. Not to mention not tired after your ten-hour nap.

About twenty minutes into studying, you can feel someone behind you; staring. But it’s probably the librarian so you don’t pay it any mind and continue on with your work. The feeling stays for another minute or so, and it’s making you a little uneasy, the Liberian would’ve moved on by that point. Hell, you’ve moved on to your ten-page essay, having enough of reading from the illegal copy of the textbook you downloaded.

Maybe you should just turn around. It’s probably someone asking for the wifi password.

Another minute passed and suddenly a slight shadow was cast over your laptop. You can see the outline of the person and go to groan when Wayne sets a cup of your favorite drink and lunch down to your left. It effectively shuts you up, halting the annoyed groan you were fixing to let out.

A nice gesture from him? That’s… strangely nice.

“Thank you…?” Sliding the headphones off, you turn to see him but he’s already walking away. Weird. Looking at the food, you almost— almost smile seeing that the food had those protective films covering it. The film was covered in a thin layer of condensation, having been hot but lunch had since ended. Had he been looking for you all that time?

There’s also a note on it. Grabbing it, you flip it over to read it.

You need to eat and maintain a good sleep schedule to remain at the top.

That’s all it says, but that’s all you need. The paper can wait and you basically know all the material by heart already. A break couldn’t hurt.

—

“A hundred and two. Suck my dick, Wayne!” You grin, slapping your test down in front of him before he can pack his things up. He looks at the paper and then at you. His eyes flicker to the extra credit questions he didn’t have time to finish and it only makes you smile harder.

“(L/n),” He greets with faux enthusiasm. His eyes flicker across your body in one motion that makes it look as if he is looking down at the paper again. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He’s reluctant to show you his score but you had seen the giant red 98 from three seats behind him.

“Just let me know if you need a tutor,” Taking the paper back you wiggle it in his face one last time before leaving him alone and you hear him scoff as you walk off to your next class.

It’s mid-February now and while California doesn’t get as cold as the more Northern states, it is a little chilly especially now that it’s started to rain.

There’s not much wind, surprisingly enough, so you’re able to keep your umbrella stable as you wait for the campus bus to arrive. While you’re waiting, listening to some music and enjoying the clouds as they roll by, Wayne walks over. He doesn’t say anything, but he stands next to you.

His hood is wet and he doesn’t have an umbrella, but he’s far from affected by it. You guess Gotham is normally colder than SanFran, plus you heard it rains a lot there. Actual acid rain. But you doubt that.

“If this is you asking for me to tutor you…” He glares at you and then rolls his eyes.

“I’m the last person on this campus in need of a tutor.” He snips, his posture getting a little straighter as he speaks.

“And the only person who needs an umbrella.” You chide. He doesn’t argue that fact and you look down the road. The bus isn’t even in sight, and he’ll probably catch a cold if he doesn’t get dry soon. But if he’s sick he can’t do well— no, you need him at his best. Winning because your opponent cannot put their best foot forward isn’t winning.

That’s probably why he’d given you the food.

Internally, you sigh and step closer to him. Just enough that the both of you are covered by the umbrella.

“Thanks,” He mutters, pulling his wet hood down. The red Stanford hoodie is absolutely drenched but it’ll dry soon. Hopefully faster than the cold bus. His hair is a little wet, too. You never noticed the curl to his hair before. It looks nice. You hum and scroll on your phone with your free hand.

“By the way,” He starts after five minutes of silence between the two of you. “I got a hundred on Professor Guetta’s exam.” The two of you have that professor, but not at the same time. Gritting your teeth, you have half a mind to move your umbrella but decide against it.

“Don’t let it go to your ego, Wayne.” You’d gotten a 98, never mind the fact that you overslept and missed a good ten minutes and never got to finish the exam.

“Never, (L/n).” He hums as the bus finally pulls up.

Shutting the umbrella, you all but push past him to get inside and away from him. Never mind the fact that you can hear him snickering quietly.

—

“99.” Wayne shows you his paper before you can even stand up. You stare at the paper and sigh. The two of you had been having this feud for two years now. One might think that as juniors in college, you’d give it a rest, maybe finally relax and actually put this… academic one-upping a rest. And you almost did.

But going into junior year you learned who your roommate was. Somehow, by some stupid chance, Wayne had managed to be your roommate until senior year. And sure, you could ask to be transferred to a different room but it’s about the principal. If you ask to be moved then he won. And he wasn’t about to win against you— at anything. Which is why you always wake up at five in the morning. Thirty minutes before he does. It used to be later in the day, but he started waking up earlier just to spite you.

And you’re too prideful to let that happen.

“Same,” Showing him your paper, he grabs it and flips through both of them. You watch, trying to find the question the two of you had gotten wrong. Apparently, it was the same question. It makes you feel a little better, knowing it was probably an advanced question meant to trick students.

He hands you the test back and you stand up.

“Won’t happen again, though.” You say as you slip the paper into your bag. He watches and cringes— don’t you have a folder for fucks sake?

“Because I’ll get better marks than you, yes.” He adds and you suck your teeth, looking up at him.

“Just worry about making sure your pretty face doesn’t get wrinkles, Wayne.” You tease and catch up to Frankie and Jaime at the door. They actually still lived on the same floor as the two of you, so you hung out whenever you weren’t studying. Which, admittedly, was less these days. Sometime during finals freshman year, you’d overworked yourself to the point of almost developing hypertension.

Frankie greets you first, offering you one of the donuts he’d stolen from his job. Jaime waves, his mouth too filled with his own donut to say anything.

“Some of us are heading to that secret tunnel under the south side of campus,” Frankie explains as the three of you walk to the courtyard for your hour-long gap. Wayne has a class, though. So he doesn’t join— not that he ever would, but sometimes Jaime offers. “Caddie, that Kappa Alpha Theta girl who’s majoring in political science—“

“Your ex-girlfriend,” You add and he huffs.

“That too. She managed to get access to that tunnel and is planning a party. Booze provided. Friday night.”

“I dunno,” You frown, using your jacket as a blanket to lay your head on. “I got a pretty shit grade for the last test in Jenkins class and I gotta study.” The two sigh loudly and you roll your eyes.

“You gotta study every single day!” Frankie reminds you, holding his phone above your face so you can see Caddie’s Instagram story. “One little party won’t hurt.” Looking at Jaime, you see

him pleading and let out a grumbled “Fine.” that the boys cheered at.

“What did you get anyway?” Jaime asks once they stop cheering.

“Lemme guess,” Frankie grins. “You finally got a 60?” You’d actually kill yourself.

“No,” Rolling your eyes, you stare at a cloud that’s shaped oddly like a dog shitting. “I got a 90.”

“I fucking hate you.”

—

Friday rolls around and Frankie all but breaks your door down as you’re getting some last-minute work done. Nothing major, just some homework you’d been putting off and finally got to it with your downtime.

“Does your incessant knocking ever work?” Wayne asks when he opens the door after two minutes of the knocking. He doesn’t say anything but it reminds him of his brothers. He’d been doing the same, but you recognized his work as some work you’d completed the week prior. What a slacker.

“Not really,” He laughs, shuts your notebook, and tosses it to your bed. “Let’s go! Jaime has the car.”

“You’re going to that party in the run-down tunnel?” Wayne raises an eyebrow as you rise from your chair, twisting your back to get out any cracks. He’d noticed your outfit from your normal loungewear but didn’t think anything of it. “Yeah, wanna come?” Frankie grins and checks the time. “We got time to wait for you, if you want.” While you hope he doesn’t, you sort of want him to. Maybe it’s so you both will lose time that could’ve been spent doing work, maybe it’s so you can have someone you know won’t do anything stupid at the party there. Maybe you just enjoy being around him. But Wayne looks between the two of you before he rolls his eyes and gets off the bed.

“I’ll be ready in five.”

And he was.

The theme was Rave in a Cave, or whatever that meant. So you were inclined to wear neon clothes or something flashy. But you didn’t have anything of the sort. As such, a pair of shorts and a sweater will do. Wayne opts for a white T-shirt and black pants.

“I won’t drink,” You offer as the four of you get into Frankie’s car. “You three can.”

“I don’t partake in drinking,” Wayne adds as he puts on his seatbelt making you feel compelled to put yours on as well. “Especially in these settings.” He almost physically turns his nose up at the idea of drinking booze provided by people he doesn’t know, let alone trust.

“Respect that, totally,” Frankie pulls out of his parking spot while Jaime plays some music on the speakers. He glances at the two of you but you’re busy on your phone and Wayne is making note of where the car goes to notice. Jaime smacks his arm and makes a motion that makes Frankie laugh.

It’s not a long drive to the tunnel— but it does take a minute to find parking.

“Why don’t you drink, if I might ask?” Wayne asks as the two of you trail behind Frankie and Jaime. They’re recording some videos and taking pictures that they’ll occasionally make the two of you join in.

“I hate the taste,” You shrug. “And addiction isn’t something I’d want to fall into. You?” He moves to the side as a couple runs down the pavement wearing bright clothes and clearly already tipsy.

“I’d prefer to be sober when I’m away from home.” He returns to his spot and his eyes flicker to the entrance of the tunnel. “So my actions aren’t due to an inebriated state of mind.” Humming, the four of you are allowed inside and there are a lot of people.

Half of the student body must be inside the tunnel. It stretches for a couple of miles but gets blocked off by a wire gate. The walls are chipped and almost rotten looking with graffiti and posters messily placed along. There are color lights strung up along the walls and if they went out the place would be pitch black.

The DJ is one of the music majors, you recognize him from one of the random people who followed you when your high school posted the school you were going to. He’s playing some loud ass music with extra bass that makes you cringe.

“Here,” Wayne hands you one of the glow sticks turned into a necklace and you thank him, slipping it over your neck. He has one but it’s around his wrist instead. Frankie and Jaime went separate ways almost immediately— they asked first and you just nodded and went to a corner.

How the fuck do you even act at parties.

“Hi-hi!” A woman stands in front of you, dressed for a rave with a lot of Kandi bracelets running up her arms and those weed glasses. She’s in one of your classes.

“Hey,” You offer a smile.

“Saw you’re nervous! Rave virginity!!!” She laughs and looks along her arms. “Here, this is called a Kandi trade— but you don’t give anything.” She starts to pull off a large red and black cuff and motions for you to grab her hand. Against your better judgment, you do and she does some hand movements before she transfers the cuff to your arm.

“That’s cool! Thank you!” She laughs again and nods, leaving you in the corner to do more trades.

An hour or so passes and Wayne spots you in the sea of people. He sees you have a lot more jewelry on than when you first came and you’re enjoying yourself. Dancing and singing along to the music, jumping with others, and such. But he’s been keeping a close eye and knows you haven’t drunk anything. Not even the water bottle that was offered to you some time ago.

He feels at ease with that and his eyes linger on Jaime. He’s impressed that… bug is keeping cool at the party and he sees Frankie laughing with some of the chem majors by the DJ, requesting songs.

He’s been stuck to a wall for the entirety of the party, he didn’t even want to go in the first place. But he figured it would be best if he did, something in him told him that. And he understood why when he saw your face go from joyful to sour.

His eyes scan the people around you and he sees something yelling at you. Their face was red from the alcohol and the anger they were feeling. He pushes himself from the wall and makes his way over to you.

“Is there an issue?” He asks you, completely ignoring the loud guy. You give him a thank you look and shake your head.

“Just some drunk idiot thinking I’m trying to hit on their date,” You snicker and he raises an eyebrow, seeing the drunk person now tongue-deep with their date. He looks away, almost embarrassed for them.

“How fun,” He smiles and you laugh. He thinks that’s the first time he’s actually made you laugh from something that wasn’t you beating him.

“Wayne, you dance?” You ask as the song changes to something made to move to. He shakes his head, unable to look away from you. “Me neither! But we should!”

He agrees, forgetting his home training and dancing along with you. He’s sure at some point someone will hurt their ankle from the jumping and the very uncoordinated movements but he doesn’t care. Anything to relish in this moment.

At some point the song changes and you're out of breath, dragging him to a wall to sit against. He wants to protest but he sees you’re sitting on fabric and not the ground directly and joins you. The little area is tucked into a divet in the wall, your backs to a cold, metal service door. So no one could step on either one of you.

“Hey, Wayne.” You call and he looks over. His eyes trace over your face as you’re not smiling as hard but the excitement in your eyes hasn’t died out. Your forehead is covered in sweat and he has to stop himself from wiping it off. “I didn’t know you’d be such a nice party partner. We outta do this more often.” You look at him and admire his eyes. In truth, you’ve never given him a real look before.

Sure, you know his eyes are green. But you never noticed how green, or how in this light you can see the rings of blue in them. Or how there’s tiny little white scars on the exposed skin of his neck. Or the scar above his right eyebrow.

“We should,” He agrees and wow, you’re really close. You can feel his breath ghost over your lips. Tentatively, you look down at his lips as he licks them then back to his eyes.

“Should we?” You grin, swiping your tongue over your lips.

“Yes.” He nods and closes the gap. His hand holds your neck and you hold his collar. At that moment, as the butterflies are alive and well in your stomach, as his lips press to yours, as his grip pulls you tighter, you’re so glad he agreed to go to the party. Even happier than this action— that kissing him was a completely sober choice made by the both of you.

This will either be the best or the worst decision of your life.

—

A year after the party, Damian enters the dorm after finishing up his last class for the day. You’d been on your phone, checking up on your internship application before setting it down when he walked in.

“I got a hundred on the fake final.” You grin, reaching over to pull him down onto your bed. He lets you, stopping his fall by planting his hands on either side of your head. He shifts his legs so one is between yours and the other is locking your left leg between his. You’ll never understand his upper body strength, but you’d definitely never complain about it.

“Me too.” He smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. You frown and grab his face, pulling him in for a proper kiss. He adjusts himself on the bed by moving one arm to slide underneath you and you love that feeling. Your hands slide from the sides of his face to his shoulders, pinching the fabric to try and get it off.

“Lock the door next time,” Jaime groans as he walks into the room. Damian pulls away and glares at him. You roll your head to see him and not very discreetly try and wave him away. “Aye, I’m just here for your charger. Mine broke and you’re rich.” He holds his hands up, showing Damian’s charger and the two of you watch him leave.

“I’m getting the higher score on the final,” You tell him once the door shuts. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised before he gets up to lock the door.

“Doubtful,” He grins, returning to his previous spot on top of you. His eyes scanned all over your face and his hand traced along your hairline. “I’m still on top.” His eyes flicker to yours and you scoff.

“Pretty sure you bottom,”

“Just this once.”

#x male reader #x reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you

225 notes · View notes

juiles · 8 months

Text

Just a normal day

Requested: yes

Summary: an average day with a teen and her father and his team.

Warnings: none

Type: pure fluff

If you want to be added to a taglist press here.

Masterlist here.

Request form here.

(if anyone knows who drew this please let me know so i can give credit!!!)

—————————————————

Today was a calm day. No one was out on a mission. Some people were writing up some mission reports but everyone was just lounging around the compound. A calm day. Y/n walked into the building, Friday alerting everyone around them that the teenager was home from school.

“Hello darling.” Steve said looking up from his piles of paperwork to see his daughter walking in, her backpack slung up on one shoulder, her phone in her other hand.

“Hi papa.” Y/n murmured plopping down next to the man with a soft sigh. “How’s paperwork?”

“Oh well you know. Average.” He said picking up his pen and starting to write again. “Homework?” This pulled an elongated sigh from the blonde teen who flopped her upper body on to Steve’s lap who chuckled and tucked a lock of hair behind the girls ear.

“Always.” She muttered with a small pout forming on her lips. “I don’t want to do it papa…”

The two heard a chuckle come from a redhead behind them. “Awe does the poor baby have homework?” Natasha rounded the corner and plopped down next to the man and his daughter. Y/n stuck her tongue out at the older woman. “Really mature kid.”

“Well i am a kid aunty Nat.” She said with a look before sitting up with a loud groan. “Time to do some AP calc i guess.” She said pulling out her binder from her backpack. The binder thudded on to the table making everyone glance up, most having an eyebrow raised at the loud sound it made.

“Damn kid. What kind of work are they giving you? It’s heavier than the files after the Battle of New York were.” Tony said shifting in his seat to sit back and look at her binder.

“It’s uhm… calc and then just normal classes? It’s average work load for students.” She shrugged and started her homework. “Whose day is it for dinner?” Natasha asked as she scrolled on her phone lounging next to the young girl.

“Wanda i think. But i could be wrong.” She murmured as her feet went to lay over her fathers lap. “Papa do you know?”

Steve gave a hum with a shake of his head as he finished signing off the paperwork in front of him. “No doll. Do your homework please.”

Y/n roller her eyes at her father before going back to her work mumbling about something no one could understand. Natasha stood up and walked in to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. “Want some coffee kid?” She asked looking over her shoulder seeing the blonde nod slightly. “Cream and sugar?” She once again saw the ponytail bib up and down and she poured the coffee for herself and the girl before bringing it back over making all the guys start to whine.

“What?”

“You can’t just get her and you coffee?!”

“Why don’t we get coffee?!”

“Come on Romanoff!”

“Favouritism!”

The teen merely smirked and stuck her tongue out at the men who preceded to all pout. “I’m her favourite. It’s very clear.” Natasha rolled her eyes and continued to scroll on her phone while the teen did homework. Tony coming over at one point to help her with calculus and Bucky and Steve helping out with her world war project for history.

All was calm until Wanda called dinner, causing all the guys to stumble over each other to get a spot at the table, all leaving a seat next to Steve open so the teen could sit there after packing her bag up. She came in with a sigh and plopped down beside her father.

Dinner was her favourite time of day. It was when everyone who was on earth and not on a mission, got together and had normal conversations and family time. It was very nice. A little loud, a little chaotic with all the guys trying to get all the food, especially when Thor was here but she wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Papa. Can you pass the peas please?” Y/n asked timidly looking over at the blonde man who hummed and put it on her plate. “Thank you.”

“What do you want to do after dinner baby?” He asked the teen as she looked around at the table. “Movie night?”

Tony whooped and looked at the teen. “Who’s picking mini cap?”

“I’m not mini cap and I am. You all pick lame ass movies.” Y/n said causing all the men to immediately protest. “Nope! If you don’t wanna watch my movie then fine but papa, aunty Nat and aunty Wanda and I are!” She said with a small huff making everyone try to muffle a laugh. “You’re so cute darling.” Steve said kissing his daughters head causing the girls cheeks and ears to tint pink.

The team all helped clean up from dinner before they all found their way to the living room where they all settled down. Thor sitting on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch. Tony with Pepper cuddled up in a love seat. Wanda and Natasha cuddled on one side of y/n. Steve holding his daughter close on the other side. The whole family settled down to watch the movie that the teen had picked.

As y/f/m played, y/n started to drift off, her head buried into her dads neck just enjoying the calmness and love that came from being surrounded by her whole family. She felt herself be lifted and tucked into her bed and a scruffy kiss from her father who murmured a soft ‘I love you darling. Sleep good’ before leaving her to fall asleep contently.

#marvel imagine #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x daughter!reader #captain america #captain america fluff #captain america imagine #chris evans #natasha romanoff imagine #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x kid!reader #the avengers #avengers headcanon #avengers x rogers!reader

246 notes · View notes

alexalessandro · 3 months

Text

Porter slander is a go actually

Most people agree that he is being a dick about this, but I've seen some other people say that even if Porter is being a dick, he's actually fair here because Gorgug is struggling in his class.

But, um, case in point- He fucking isn't!

During Riz's 30 we learn that Fabian and Gorgug are doing well academically. They're not excelling like Riz or Adaine, but they're also not struggling like Kristen and Fig. The point is they're perfectly average students with beefy transcripts already because of their extracurricular with the Owlbears. Riz doesn’t have to worry too much about them.

So Gorgug. Is not. Failing.

This narrows down Porter's reasons for denying Gorgug solely on his preconceived notions of Gorgug as a student and Barbarian, and here's the thing: Porter's only in-game mechanical basis might be the cold hard truth that you can't concentrate on spells through rage, but check it out, Gorgug is not multiclassing into a wizard! He's multiclassing into an artificer! The only spellcasters that are known for making shit that helps in battle and not necessarily casting spells.

If Gorggug had to multiclass into any spellcasting class, artificer is the one that makes the most sense!

There is no front that Porter is defensible on! He's sucking as a teacher because he's failing a student before even giving them a chance to show that they can do this (“You know we start the year with an A, and it’s ours to keep, not a 0, it’s up to you actually”), and he also sucks in general. Just as Siobhan described in the AP, why do you care? What do you mean you were offended? That's weird asf. Why are you this weird about a student's personal choices?

And even without going in-depth about just how right and beautiful it is for Gorgug's character to multiclass like this and without going into too much depth as to just how shitty Porter is here, the point is, Porter is just wrong.

Also, Porter accurately assesses Gorgug's rage as protective. But then dismisses it like Gorgug is just plain wrong for interpreting his rage like this? Like, I'm sorry, but as a neurodivergent kid, teachers forcing their way of doing things onto me without explaining why my way of doing it was wrong, even if it got the job done, will forever be a gripe of mine. And Porter is just pressing all my buttons on that and- FUCK! HE JUST FUCKING SUCKS OKAY?

#Like I'm sorry but he's truly indefensible on ANY front #Just truly a pure asshole #FUCK I'M SO MAD #d20 fantasy high #d20 fhjy #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 fhjy #fantasy high junior year

77 notes · View notes

allthingsfangirl101 · 1 year

Text

Her Voice–Steve Harrington

Steve woke up to someone reciting different mathematical formulas. He looked around, completely and utterly confused. He continued to listen to the voice as they memorized those formulas that seemed a little familiar to Steve.

He got ready for the day, the voice not stopping. Whoever it was whose voice he was hearing, was clearly nervous about a calculus test she had today. Steve wished he could say something to help calm her down. As he drove to school, he listened to her go through her study guide.

It was clear to Steve that she was going to pass the test. He couldn't help but smile as he listened to her continue to mumble her formulas. Once he got to school, he ignored his friends and focused on listening to her voice.

"Hey."

Steve jumped when the locker next to his was kicked. He looked over to see Carol and Tommy smirking at him.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Us?" Carol giggled. "What about you?"

"You were just having an intense staring contest with your locker," Tommy scoffed.

"I was just. . ." Steve said, clearing his throat. "I started. . ."

"Let me guess," Carol said in a sing-songy voice, "you started hearing Her Voice."

"Ohhhhhhhh," Tommy laughed. "Can she hear your voice yet?"

"I don't know," Steve shrugged as he shoved things into his locker. He lowered his voice as he added, "I haven't tried yet."

Tommy just scoffed as he hit Steve's shoulder and walked away. Carol was about to follow him but stopped.

"Hey," she said, the tone of her voice changing. "I know this is all scary and overwhelming, but it's not meant to be bad. Once you start hearing their voice, it's up to you if you want to reach out. And once you do, you won't regret it."

"You sound like you come from experience."

He meant it as a joke but he stopped laughing when he saw the look on her face. "You've reached out to yours?" Steve asked. He glanced over at Tommy before looking back at Carol. "And it isn't Tommy?"

"Before you give me the protective-best-friend act," she sighed, "relax. It's not like I've done anything or cheated on Tommy."

"I believe you," Steve shrugged. To be honest, he didn't really care about Carol's and Tommy's relationship. It's always been more. . . sexual than anything else.

"Besides, sometimes it's nice having someone to talk to about real things," Carol added before finally leaving to go catch up with Tommy. Steve thought about what she said as he slowly closed his locker. He leaned against it and debated. He took a shaky breath as he decided to just go for it.

Good luck on your test, he thought.

He was walking to class, his heart practically in his throat. It officially made the jump when he heard a small chuckle.

Thanks, her voice came through softly.

* * * * *

Steve froze when he heard his soulmate's voice again. This time, it sounded different. It sounded nearby. He looked around, searching for the source of the voice in his head. He stopped, his heart jumping into his throat when his eyes finally landed on her.

He recognized her as Y/N. She and Steve have grown up together. Not as friends. Not even really as acquaintances. They've been in several classes together every year growing up. He knew of her, but he didn't really know her.

Could she be the one? Is nerdy Y/N really his soulmate?

Right as she looked up, he quickly tucked into the nearest hallway. He held his breath, not sure where to go or what to do.

There was no way she was going to accept him. Y/N has never gotten a B on anything. Steve is barely passing his classes.

Why would Hawkins High's smartest student want anything to do with the basketball jockey known for his three-throws and hair?

And what was he supposed to do? Walk over to her, interrupt her studying for one of her AP classes, and ask if she wanted to go out with a C-average student?

He ran his fingers through his hair as he rounded the corner. His stomach bungee jumped into his stomach when he ran into someone. The chord broke when Steve looked up and saw Y/N staring at him.

"Hi," he stuttered.

"Sorry," she stuttered, looking down at the textbooks in her arms. Steve felt weird when he saw how tightly she was holding her books. "I wasn't looking where I was going. I'm sorry, Steve."

"It wasn't your fault," he said quickly. "I was the moron who bolted around the corner. I know we don't really know each other, but are you alright?"

Y/N looked up at Steve "the Hair" Harrington, unable to hide her surprise.

"I'm fine," she said slowly. She tightened her hold on her books, unable to maintain eye contact with Steve. He wasn't offended by it. He thought it was adorable.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Y/N spoke up first. "I should probably. . . The bell is going to ring."

Steve stuttered as she walked past him. He needed to get her to stay. She was his soulmate.

"I heard you," Steve blurted. He held his breath as Y/N slowly turned around.

"What?"

"I heard you studying this morning," he said, the little bit of confidence he had now up in flames.

"This morning?" She stuttered. "Steve, what are you talking about?"

"I can hear your voice in my head, Y/N."

"No," she said under her breath. "Really? Because that means. . ."

"This morning you were reciting formulas," he explained. "You spent the entire way to school studying your notes and spouting off the formulas you clearly already had memorized."

"If you can hear me in your head. . . That means. . ."

Steve stepped a little closer to her, not wanting to throw himself at her. He slowly reached down and grabbed one of her hands. He gave her every chance to pull away. His chest tightened when she didn't move away from him.

"We're soulmates?" She asked, her voice under her breath as she looked up at him.

"It would seem so," Steve chuckled.

The two stared at each other, neither one of them really sure what to say. Y/N looked down and studied their intertwined hands. Her face burned, unable to stop herself from noticing how well their hands fit together.

"Now what?" She asked under her breath. "I know as soulmates we need to start thinking about what's next for us, but it seems kinda. . . Too soon."

"Then how about a date?"

Y/N looked up at Steve, completely shocked to see him smiling at her.

"Are you sure?" She stuttered.

"Of course," he shrugged, pulling her closer. "Instead of thinking about what's next and our future, let's focus on tonight. Dinner, just you and me so we can get to know each other better."

His stomach lurched when he saw the look on her face. "Is something wrong?" He asked.

"It's just. . ." She looked down at their hands, suddenly embarrassed. Steve reached over and used his other hand to lift her chin.

"Talk to me," he whispered. "Please, soulmate?"

Y/N blushed at the nickname. She took a shaky breath as she slowly gathered her courage. She didn't want to embarrass herself in front of her soulmate.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course not," Steve said quickly as he let go of her chin. "You can tell me anything. Do you not want to go out with me? Is it something Tommy said? Or Carol? Did Carol say something to you, Y/N?"

"No," she stuttered, surprised by his sudden anger toward his friends. "It's just. . . It's a school night. I don't want to be out late."

Y/N held her breath as she waited for Steve to laugh in her face. Instead, he smiled as he pulled her closer. He wrapped his arms around Y/N's waist and smirked when he felt her book pressed between them.

"Good point," he said without an ounce of judgment. "How about Friday night?"

"I could do Friday night," Y/N shrugged. She bit her bottom lip, hesitating. When she found the courage she added, "We don't have to wait until then."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Lunch tomorrow?" She offered.

"I'll meet you out here."

Y/N's stomach dropped. She was about to pull away but couldn't move. "Because you don't want to be seen with me," she mumbled, studying her shoes.

"No!" Steve said quickly. He grabbed her chin again, making her look up at him. "Y/N, I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you."

"Then why do you want to have lunch in the quad and not inside with everyone else?"

"Because I wanted to be able to focus on learning everything about you without being interrupted by stupid people," Steve said, dropping his voice and slowly letting go of her face. "Let me make something perfectly clear to you. I'm not embarrassed that you're my soulmate, Y/N. I'm embarrassed that I'm your soulmate."

"Wait, what? You're embarrassed for me?" Y/N asked under her breath.

"Because you're the smartest girl in school," Steve chuckled, "and your soulmate is a basketball star that is barely passing his classes."

"I could help you study," she shrugged. Steve pulled her in closer, tightening his arms around her waist. He smiled as she slowly snaked her arm that wasn't holding her book around his neck.

"You'd really be willing to do that?"

"Of course," she smiled. "Sometimes it's easier to. . ."

Steve cut her off by gently kissing her. She sucked in a breath, surprised by his sudden burst of confidence. It took her a second but she eventually started kissing him back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, breaking the kiss. "I told myself we would take this slow. Whatever lace you want. The last thing I want to do is push you or force you. . ."

It was Y/N's turn to cut him off. She stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Steve instantly kissed her back, tightening his arms around her as their lips moved in sync. They broke apart, both of them out of breath.

"So lunch tomorrow?" Y/N asked, her voice soft. Steve smiled as he reached up and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"I promise," he said sweetly, "I won't be late."

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #joe keery #joe keery imagines

209 notes · View notes

shinygemstone · 1 year

Text

Here's to the semi-gifted kids.

The ones who got A's and B's in high school, got above average test scores, and took a good number of APs.

Who engaged in a few extracurriculars and volunteering over the years.

Here's to the kids who could look at every one of their classmates and find something that kid was doing better than them.

The kids who couldn't help but die a little inside when they heard about graduating students who got into ivy leagues and schools that needed 1500s on the SAT or GPAs above 4.0.

The kids who had their eyes set on colleges that were out of reach for a few of their classmates, but were safety schools for others.

The kids who would walk out of one class feeling like the smartest kid in the world and walk out of another feeling like the stupidest.

The kids who spent all of high school worrying that they'd never amount to anything, that they were mediocre at best, that they were failures and were just really good at pretending they weren't.

You did good, kid. Trust me, it'll work out.

You are enough.

#high school #Slightly above average #teenagers #overachiever #self esteem #positivity

180 notes · View notes

yandere-to-express · 8 months

Text

Goth and the thembo

Chapter 2

 cw for obsessive behaviour and stalking, but, well, you guys knew that was coming, right? maybe the cw should just say "peter",, (there's also some misgendering, but i promise it's very brief and non-hostile/unintentional!)

Dog barking. Microwave beeping. Smell of the instant meal they just pulled out. Big stretch...

Breathe.

“Be quiet, Blossom,” they sighed half-heartedly, already drained only 10 minutes after getting home. The little chihuahua sneezed confrontationally, staring out into the hallway, alert. It was probably the neighbour’s kids getting home from whatever sports club they usually attended. That, or their brothers were coming home after visiting whatever new friends they’d made at their own schools.

They decided they were too tired to care.

Legs weaving through the suddenly interested cats and dog now they were holding a plate of food with careful practise, Y/n carried it upstairs to their unfinished room, the blank walls staring at them almost accusingly with boxes of things that still had yet to be unpacked as they clicked the light-switch on.

Speaking of unpacking...

Y/n sighed as they sunk into their mattress, spoon in hand as they half-heartedly ate the curry on their plate, the events of the day almost dulling their usual favourite flavour down considerably, cheap chicken tikka masala not covering their taste buds in a comforting embrace the way it used to. Maybe it’s just the way it was made over here.

Anyway.

Yeah, they made a new friend in the least likely place, but that was nerve-wracking enough. They thought...They thought that because they got detention something terrible would happen. And when it didn’t...They didn’t know, the impending sense of doom still hadn’t left entirely, so it was exhausting enough just processing it from the comfort of their home. It was a miracle they hadn’t devolved into tears at school, especially with how loud it was in the cafeteria today.

They couldn’t let that happen. They wouldn’t , this was a new start. They weren’t going to blow it like they did back in Year 7.

...No, they weren’t thinking about that right now. They’d unpack that memory when they had the mental capacity to do so.

...What were they thinking about again? Oh, right, school today.

So yeah, double-period History was boring until Peter showed up, French 2 was a wash (seriously, they were thankful they took it as a GCSE before they left England, they were further ahead than they thought they’d ever be), Graphic Design just went over the same old stuff they already learned back home, and Algebra 2 was even easier like, c’mon! Algebra wasn’t supposed to be easy! At least move them up a few classes if it was like that! They were so worried about the past two years of GCSEs (as well as the three months of Sixth Form that they promptly – and gladly – abandoned when the family moved overseas around Christmas) being earned would be useless now they were here, but it just meant they were too far ahead! And they weren’t allowed to join the Seniors so late into the year either! Back in England they’d been so worried about having enough intelligence, but now they apparently had too much of the stuff, and it was irritating! They’d rather keep being a “gifted” student back in Years 1 to 6, thank you very much. At least AP Physics was more of a challenge, but, well, it was AP Physics . It didn’t get much harder than that, in their opinion.

Why was all this a problem? Because without work that would take more than 25 minutes to complete on average, Y/n was terrible at focusing. Worksheet finished? You’d think that they would ask for more, right? Wrong , they just stared out the window absently, maybe doodling in a book that they brought for that purpose if they remembered, trying their best to keep their cool when the class got rowdy and the teacher had to shout over the noise to call the class to attention again. It was worse than back home, honestly. The classes were bigger, for one thing, so that immediately meant more noise.

Man, maybe they should have just gone straight to college. Oh well, too late now.

They licked their spoon clean as they finished their meal, just opting to leave the cutlery and plate on one of the piles of boxes to take down in the morning, closing their curtains (their parents insisted that they at least hang those up) as they shrugged off their zip-up hoodie, tiredly undressing ungracefully and throwing on some pyjamas. After leaving the room for a few minutes to brush their teeth (hey, they were an idiot who ate unhealthily and kept dirty dishes in their room, but oral hygiene was still one of their top priorities! ...thanks for scaring that into them, Mum), they reached into a small box by their bed, pulling out an old pink DS, checking the cartridge and settling on the game inside, ignoring Blossom’s barking as they heard their brothers return.

Pokémon Platinum would help them out for now...

Y/n woke up with a start, eyes snapping open as they heard movement outside. They wiped their bleary eyes as they looked around. They’d fallen asleep with their DS, it seemed, the melody of Jubilife City at night out of place as their anxiety rocketed. Was this the beginning of a robbery?! Were they being robbed?! They scrambled to pick up their DS, tapping the Pokétch a few times to get a sense of how late it was and-

Oh. 11pm. That was when their dad got home from work, which was confirmed by the door creaking open downstairs, his mumbles of greeting to what Y/n assumed was their Mum or a brother muffled by the floorboards beneath them.

Man, were they dumb, huh? They let out a shaky chuckle at their own stupidity, shutting their DS and putting it on the makeshift nightstand (you know, just a stack of boxes, like what anyone else has in their bedroom) next to their bed. They lay back down, screwing their eyes shut in an attempt to sleep.

Surprisingly, it actually worked!

...Unsurprisingly, they missed the way the moonlight cast a shadow on the figure sitting in the tree just outside their window...

Ok, that was way too close for comfort.

That old dude who went inside almost saw him, apparently there was a family dog that hated people walking by, and poor Y/n looked terrified! They looked as though they were about to die (no, not them, they’d never die, he’d make sure of it)! But, fuck, if the streetlight was just a few inches closer to the house...

Peter shivered as he looked back into his darling’s darkened room with his huge, almost luminous, cerulean eyes, safe in the knowledge that not many other people would be out at this time, and none of them would see them from the sidewalk. He waited for what felt like an eternity, watching as the rest of the lights shut off before making his next move.

His mother and sister picked on him for looking scrawny, but he hardly felt it as he lifted himself up on the branch above and hoisted himself onto the balcony and into the doors that they must have left open by mistake (honestly, it was February! Never mind the dangers of the world outside, what about the cold?! Oh, he’d have to take care of them, help them stay safe and healthy)…

Unless they were expecting him...?

He felt a shiver race through him, caused by the excitement and the chill (it was 23 degrees out there, ok?!) as he tip-toed into the room cautiously, praying to whatever deity out there that he didn’t step on some old, creaky floorboard. Thankfully, his darling’s room didn’t seem to have any (good, they deserved the best room in the world, he couldn’t bear to let someone as adorable as them to live uncomfortably, and they were so small! He was actually a little worried some of the piles of boxes would topple over and crush them!), and he was right by their side in a flash.

He stood, watching over Raine with a little uncertainty of what to do now, looking at the rise and fall of their chest. They were wearing some pyjamas with some yellow fantasy animal thing on it (Pikachu, right? So adorable ...), and they gave a little snort as they slept, a little bit of drool escaping their mouth.

If Y/n knew they looked like that while they slept? They would’ve been mortified.

But, to Peter?

They looked like an angel sent from the heavens. His darling angel. Fuck, how could anyone look so adorable and beautiful?

...Well, the cold was no longer an issue for him, it seemed.

Peter knelt down, placing his chin onto the mattress as he continued watching them breathe. Watching as their face scrunched up a few times, muttering nonsensical things out loud as they dreamed (he had no idea what a cookie cat was, but fuck, they were just so cute!) . He stayed there for hours, ignoring the plea for rest from his eyes as they drooped more and more. After the first half-hour, he’d gotten bolder and moved his face closer to theirs, able to smell their wavy brown hair (they must have used coconut scented shampoo before school, he realised, but God , it was addicting, he’d have to get some of his own just to be reminded of the scent of them ) and gently wipe away the line of drool leaking from their barely parted lips.

...Deep within him he knew it was gross, but he licked the liquid away in a flash and, stars above , that was even better than their smell!

He whispered praise to them as the night dragged on, petting their hair and caressing their cheek tenderly. He even got a little absent, sleepy nuzzle on the hand back (he was never washing that hand again)! His darling kept mumbling stuff about ice cream from outer space, and choosing something called a Bidoof (whatever it was, they giggled in their sleep about it being God, and, in case you hadn’t guessed yet, he did another mental bluescreen at how adorable they were being) to fight something called an Arceus?

But then, they said something that made his heart (and, ok, maybe his pants) swell and his face turn bright red.

“Mmph, Peter...Bite me...Sharp teeth...”

Oh.

Oh boy.

The goth kind of just...sat there, staring at Y/n in bewilderment.

Yesyesyesyesyes darling, he could do that!

He cursed under his breath, averting his gaze out of bashfulness (somehow, he had some shame still left inside!), and pausing as he noticed the sky outside was brightening.

Fuck , he’d been there all night!

Peter hesitantly got up, looking back at Y/n as he made his way back to the balcony. The sun was only just peeking up behind the horizon, but it was enough for some golden rays to hit his darling’s body.

Yeah. He was right. They had to be an angel, they looked so fucking beautiful and peaceful like that.

He wouldn’t mind waking up next to them like that in the bed, some day.

He shook his head, brushing his ebony hair out of his face, gazing over Y/n face and body one last time, before hopping out the balcony and back into the tree, scaling down it carefully and landing a little clumsily onto the wet grass. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and hesitantly walking away, back towards where the school and his own house was.

He was going to be so exhausted today.

...It was totally worth it, though.

“Someone’s chipper today,” Lucy noted as Y/n skipped into the classroom, sitting next to her with a smile. “You’re even in on time! Did Detention really scare you so much that you didn’t wanna be late again?”  “Good morning to you too,” they frowned teasingly, pulling out a little sketchbook and their pencil case. “Nope, I just...I dunno, I didn’t sleep in for once. I actually slept great for the first time in, what? Ever?”  “You look it, your eye-bags are basically gone!”  “Oh, no, that’s makeup. But! I actually had time to put some on for once!”  “Aww, Y-Y growin’ up!” Lucy teased and wiping pretend tears away and, patting them on the back and jokingly wiping away a tear. “But, how was Detention by the way?”  “Oh, great, actually. I got some work done and I made a new friend,” Y/n admitted, beginning to doodle. Lucy smiled widely, seeming to be genuinely happy.  “Good for you! I’ve noticed that my crowd seems to put you off – don’t give me that look, I’ve seen your face, I’ve worn that face, I’m only still around those loud assholes because they’re Vio’s friends, so I know how you feel – but, seriously. I’m happy for you, now you’ll have someone less obnoxious than the soccer team!”  “You’re talking to me as if I have no friends other than you,” Y/n raised an eyebrow at her, grinning.  “You know what I mean! You only really hang out with me and Vio, as well as that nerd in your History and Physics classes. TJ?”  “TK, and they’re a sweetheart, I’ll have you know.”  “Yeah, yeah, I know, but, anyway! Who’s your friend?”

Y/n glanced down at the doodle and realised that without thinking, they’d drawn the new friend himself.

“Oh, take a look, I just finished a drawing of him,” they pointed. Lucy followed their finger, their smile dropping as her violet eyes widened, pupils contracting.  “No,” she hissed quietly, whipping her head back to face the other, panicked. Y/n groaned at her expression. “Not him! You can’t be friends with him, he’s- well HE FUCKING CURVE STOMPED A JOCK AND TEEETH ARE ALL GONE!”  “Trouble? Yeah, I know, TK told me, but he was nice enough to me!” Y/n whispered back, frowning. Lucy shook her head violently, ignoring how her earrings bashed against her cheeks as they swung on her ears.  “You can’t! Peter King is- He's-”  “If he ends up being horrible, I’ll just back off! I’ll be fine, Lulu!”  “But!-”

“Excuse me, girls,” came Mrs Stewart’s voice and, ew, there’s only one girl here, Y/n grimaced, Lucy frowning as she caught on too. “Could we have some silence whilst I do roll-call, please?”  “Sorry Miss,” Y/n slumped, staring down at their paper. Lucy continued to look on with irritation at the teacher, absently squeezing their hand in comfort.

Soon enough, registration passed, and the class continued with its noise before the first bell went off to signify the change in classes. Lucy looked at Y/n, eyes worried.

“She’s a shit teach, huh?”  “I’m used to it, it was worse back in the UK,” Y/n shrugged, packing their things away so they wouldn’t have to hurry when the time came. Lucy sighed.  “I’m sorry, y/n, I- Fuck, not just that old bat, but about Peter. I’m just- I don’t want you getting hurt, ok? And, well, he makes others hurt a lot. But, if you wanna try, I won’t stop you. You’ll tell me if he does hurt you though, yeah? Vio and the boys’ll kick his ass for you, heck, I’ll join in! It’d put my brown belt to good use!”  “Thanks, Lulu,” Y/n smiled, picking up their bag as the bell rang. “And, hey, I can beat him up too if I have to! I do swimming! I have the muscle!”  “You’re a bit small compared to him, Y-Y.”  “So’s everyone else!”  “You’re 5’4!”

They paused as they walked, before laughing loudly.

“Ah, whatever, you probably won’t need to, anyway. See you at Break?”  “See ya, good luck in the halls!” Lucy shouted over the noise, grinning as she made her way to her Business class. Y/n sighed, looking back at her momentarily before pushing on through the crowds.  “I’ll fucking need it,” they grumbled getting pushed to-and-fro by all the taller students, pulling up their hood and tugging on the cord to block out the smell of deodorant and teenage sweat as they made their way to a hopefully quiet classroom.

Media had better have some sort of challenge today.

48 notes · View notes

disneybrandautism · 6 months

Text

if my saw trap was to take an ap exam and pass right now. i’d die.

#saw franchise #average ap student

4 notes · View notes

toomanyoneshots · 2 years

Text

Smart Enough - Dean Forester X Reader

You rushed out of class as soon as the final bell rang, sweeping up your books and papers into your arms and slinging your backpack over your shoulder. You made sure to hold your papers tightly against your chest, hoping that nobody had seen your grade on your AP Psych test. Sure, people said that a C was an average grade, but it certainly wasn’t for you. Your entire grade knew you as the future valedictorian, who regarded a high B as unsatisfactory. But a 73? You knew it was only because you hadn’t had enough time to study properly, what with the pressure of school mounting as the semester was about to enter its frenzied finale, but that gave you no comfort. You were struggling to keep your eyes dry, desperately taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, though the worry about your grade was suddenly supplemented by worries that people could hear you. As soon as you exited the classroom, you did your best to blend into the crowd of students filling the hall and get out of the school as soon as you could. But of course, you couldn’t escape the one person you least wanted to see you like this: your boyfriend Dean.

“Hey, wait up!” Upon hearing this, you looked back and made eye contact with him, before turning back around and speeding up, hoping to lose him in the sardine can that was the hallway of Stars Hollow High School. You couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you about to break down, a drop of water away from the surface tension breaking as a single tear rolled down your face. But alas, you couldn’t lose him and he soon grabbed your shoulder, turning you around to face him. Your face quivered as you looked him in the eyes and started sobbing silently. He pulled you into his chest and looked around before pulling you into the janitor’s closet, closing the door firmly and locking it. He rubbed your back to comfort you and kissed the top of your head as tears streamed down your face, staining his hoodie. You both stood still for a moment as you calmed yourself down, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close to you. He pulled away and sat down against the wall, pulling you down so you were straddling his lap, and pulled your head back into his chest, setting all your papers and books on the ground.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He asked softly, using his thumb to wipe the tears from under your eyes. Your fading sobs got louder as you grabbed the test paper and held it up up for Dean to see. He took it from your hand and held it up to his eyes, struggling to see in the dark. After a few seconds, he set the paper back on the pile and tilted your chin up so you were facing him, before leaning in and kissing you softly.

“Babe, it’s just a letter on a piece of paper. It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”

“It’s a C! That’s almost a D which is almost an F!”

“It’s also almost a B, which is almost an A,” he said, kissing your forehead. “Babe, you have a 99 in this class. One test that you didn’t even flunk isn’t going to drop you to a B.”

“I don’t know, it just feels like I’m not smart anymore,” you said, as the magnitude of your tears decreased somewhat.

“Babe, you’ve made all As since you were five years old. You’re the smartest person in the school. And no matter what, you’ll always be smart enough for me.” You looked up at him, the final tears falling off of your face, before leaning in to kiss him.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, kissing you before pulling away and looking into your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, kissing him and sniffling. You took a deep breath and tried to smooth your now-frazzled hair out, before picking up your papers and getting them in order. You cracked the closet door open, looking around to make sure nobody was watching. You saw that the hall was empty by now, so you slipped out and flashed him an “okay” sign, waiting for him to close the door behind him so you could both leave school.

“Hey,” Dean said. “How about some ice cream? My treat.”

“Ice cream would be great,” you responded, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Thank you.”

#dean forester x reader #dean x reader #gilmore girls #dean forester #dean #jared padalecki #fanfic #reader insert #I love this man so much #I hate how they ruined his character to justify Jess

454 notes · View notes

deusvervewrites · 9 months

Note

Now that you said that the First Years are taking Calculus in Japanese First year of high school, it reminds me of the fact that not only are there standards between the different countries(and the US tends to be on the lower end unless one has money and goes to a more rigorous school and Japan is on the higher end), the qualities and stereotypes of the dumb and worst ranking students are going to be different as well. Assuming that there no corruption and UA is truly one of the best school in Japan, Denki, Mina and Kirishima are the idiots in 1-A but they’re the idiots in one of the best schools in the East. They would absolutely beat 90+% of IRL American high school students in a majority of subjects(assuming if they take the exact same tests). I took AP Calc in Senior year and didn’t truly get it until Freshman College, and I think some of the issues in a lot of people’s cases are that we don’t have good teachers that care, students are don’t care about school, and/or parents being helicopters. So the Japan vs US schooling systems are going to be at an disadvantage against the Americans, whose frame of reference is the American system and not do basic research on the Japanese system.

There’s also the situation that UA is a private, elite school and not a generic public school that is available to everyone. UA would have a lot higher standards what is normal for the average Japanese school. American stereotypes for a bad student that goes to class is one who doesn’t turn in homework, doesn’t get the subject, and gets lower than Ds. Denki, Mina and Kirishima don’t seem like that in canon and had they gone to a much easier school, they could easily get Bs and As. If they were truly that bad then UA probably would have to give them more help, restrict them on certain activities, or even threaten expulsion on account on not improving or doing well in grades. It is a reminder that all students in 1-A passed the written exam for Finals, the three only failed in the practical portion.

I blame fanon for the problems as those three are a lot smarter than believed, ignorant yes but not failing classes bad.

It's interesting (in the 'may you live in interesting times' way) that Japan tends to rank students competitively. Kaminari and Ashido are at the bottom of the class... but that's meaningless. Unless a significant number of students get the exact same score, someone has to be at the bottom. For all we know they have an 80% in every subject at their worst.

We also know that Ashido struggles with studying (shown in the preparation for the End of Term Finals) and while I don't have a source off the top of my head I'm sure if I spent a few minutes I could find something similar with Kaminari besides him being dumbstruck by that calculus problem I mentioned in the previous ask. So they do struggle academically, but that doesn't change the fact that, again, they are keeping up with one of the most demanding curriculum in Japan.

#asks #meta

45 notes · View notes

sabakos · 5 months

Note

Hm, on one hand your post irritates me because I did pretty poorly in my STEM degree but unequivocally Learned Things, but on the other hand I would have definitely Learned More Things if I didn't have to come up with thousands of dollars every year for tuition and transportation. Don't you think failing everyone who gets a C- or less is a bit extreme?

This might have been specific to my experience or to physics rather than all of STEM, but the people who were getting a C- weren't getting a 70% on all of their exams, everything in upper level classes was necessarily graded on a curve. Which is the correct way to do it imo, it's hard to design an exam so that people who "know" the material all score exactly in the 70-100% range on the exam. Usually this is accomplished by erring on the side of challenging the students more rather than less, where 50% or so of the material on the exam is something you expect anyone would know, and the remainder is more challenging and requires an actual synthesis and understanding of the material, and often this gets you a nice distribution. But sometimes the professor messes up and they need to salvage an exam that was accidentally too challenging, where the class average was in the 60s. I even had an E&M exam that was so hard the professor refused to tell us anything beyond "none of you got a passing grade so I'm not counting it." So despite the appearance of numerical data, evaluation is a lot less of an exact science than one might expect!

But to illustrate the point, we had the opposite problem happen once with a newer professor, he accidentally screwed up and made the (take home!) midterm so easy in senior-level Intro to Quantum Mechanics that the median score was 100. This was, admittedly, complicated by the fact that due to our program's research specialties in AMO meant that at least a handful of us already knew everything there was to learn in that class before we took it. But despite this median score, which was achieved by more than just the kids who already knew the material, the lower mode of people still scored poorly! So there wasn't really much to do other than make the final nigh-impossible, which meant that all of those C and D kids failed to graduate on time anyway and had to "retake" quantum the next year when the curve would be more forgiving. I'm skeptical from having talked to and worked with many of them that they actually learned anything beyond intro physics.

However, I am probably being somewhat unfair in ways I don't realize due to, quite frankly, immense privilege. I came into college with two years worth of credit from AP exams and still took a full courseload and graduated in four, not only summa cum laude, but #2 in my class, despite basically taking no freshman and barely any sophomore-level classes to pad my GPA with. I thrived on the stress and conflict of test-taking and laughed (while still crying) about take-home exams that could and did take an entire weekend. I took the Putnam exam "for fun" my sophomore year and got a 10, beating all the math majors who took it that year. I was an obnoxious asshole about all of this, which I should probably regret more than I do. But by all accounts this means I'm the entirely wrong person to know what causes people to struggle with exams even if they do know the material. Throw sharp and heavy things at me, I probably deserve it.

But despite all that... I still feel that I didn't learn all of the physics as well as I probably should have? Many of those curves were strongly weighted in my favor because I happened to be the first or second highest score, which meant I got basically the same final grade in a class whether I slacked off a bit or not. And yeah, I think part of it is that Physics is really hard, and a four-year undergrad program with rigidly scheduled exams is not going to be remotely accessible or accommodating to anyone with a severe disability or extenuating life circumstances.

But when it's the same kids every semester who are barely passing, I think that at some point you have to say that even if the system *is* fundamentally broken and unfair, it's both of those things in a way where the people it's failed really haven't learned anything and so shouldn't receive a degree saying they have? Possibly they often don't even know what they don't know? I think that most physics classes form roughly discrete packets of curriculum, but as someone who has written and scored exams, I don't think 70% on an exam doesn't imply that even close to 70% of the knowledge was mastered. I'm not sure that any exam I took was ever that comprehensive, and I don't think that "learned some things" rather than nothing is really enough to cut it.

#no reblogs because *much* of this post could be used against me even with context #hate me more: i was rarely sober for most of this time period had a boyfriend just as obnoxious as me and maintained an active social life

12 notes · View notes

dreamyfanfix · 10 months

Text

Chapter 2: It Shouldn't Hurt

Past (2 Years Ago):

Anthony had to admit it. That was the most eventful PTA meeting of all time. After Kate sat down, Portia proceeded to give out more information about the new processes that would be implemented, at Mayfair Girls, at the beginning of the term.

First: The school was going to adjust its classes to meet the standards of their new entries. The classes would now be separated by grade average which meant those who excelled would be able to take AP classes and kids who struggled would be with teachers who were known for explaining better and getting concepts across to struggling kids. Parents were not happy with this but Anthony could see some nodding teachers. The idea that kids would feel less than others was a fear but it became clear that this was also being done by subject as many kids only struggled in one area and the school wanted to make sure the students were well-rounded when they graduated. Anthony, surprisingly, had no problems with this. His sister Francesca had spent so long ignoring some of her subjects that she was behind and catching up was taking up more time than just plain old studying.

Second: All extracurriculars would have reentry tryouts. This one caused the biggest stir in the room as many of the parents in the room bonded over their daughters' mutual extracurriculars. Anthony, again, was actually happy about this. Eloise had been working on her social skills through the break and he hoped that she could have a retry into Debate, Public Speaking and Academic Decathlon.

Third: The school was adding mandatory 'Social Impact' lessons. These lessons funded by a Social Worker most of the time, would be lessons the girls would need in learning about those less fortunate or about social issues of the world. The girls would be volunteering at different organisations for increasing their awareness of social issues again emphasising the need for well-rounded graduates. Anthony thought all the eyes in the room were gonna pop out of their head at the implication of this new lesson plan. Everyone looked surprised, everyone except, Anthony noted, Kate. She sat there with a smug look on her face and Anthony couldn't help but smile, she was enjoying this.

Just then Kate's eyes found his and Anthony felt locked in place by her gaze. He nodded his head in greeting but Kate scowled and immediately went back to listening to Portia.

As parents & teachers dwindled out the door when the meeting ended. Anthony watched as some parents came up to Kate to speak to her. Some of them were congratulatory and offered thanks, others just seemed like they were curious. Kate seemed to handle it all in stride so Anthony hung back, waiting for his turn.

"Quite the entrance there Miss Sharma," Anthony remarked as he walked up to her, Anthony noticed Tom by her side and shook his hand "I'm going to take a guess that this is the lovely girlfriend you were talking about earlier Tom?"

Tom smiled oblivious to Anthony's ogling of Kate "Yes this is her. Is she not amazing?"

"Quite. It seems I am destined to learn that on multiple occasions," Anthony said looking at her properly now.

"Well Lord Bridgerton, how do you feel about the changes to the school mandates?" Kate asked with a quirked brow before Tom could pick up on Anthony's meaning.

"Oh I love them," Anthony said and both Tom and Kate's eyes widened. Anthony smiled "Yeah I think these new processes will help all of our girls including your...?"

"Sister," Tom supplied.

"I think these new processes will help all of our girls, including your sister, be more well-rounded," he looked at her in a challenge.

"Is that so? Cause here I thought you would loathe these changes. I thought people like me and all the parents here today, who took buses and trains to get here should stick to our own schools?" Kate asked sourly.

Anthony's breathing hitched "You weren't supposed to hear that,"

"Why? How could I miss the opportunity for you to proclaim to the entire room how people like my sister have no business schooling with people like your sisters?" she said

"You don't understand-"

"Oh I actually think I do understand Lord Bridgerton," Kate said as she got closer to him, he suspected that Kate being quite tall herself could often intimidate men shorter than her but they were both around about the same height so all it did was bring her face closer to his and Anthony got a whiff of her "You see it seems it is not just the school that has gotten out of touch, it seems the parents and teachers need to start working to meet the standards set by hardworking children like my sister,"

Anthony had to shake his head to get the scent of her out of his mind "If this school is so below your standards, why put in such an effort to get your sister in here?"

"That's what I asked," Tom spoke for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Kate shot him a glare and Anthony felt smug before she spoke "Because a child of excellent schooling history in a fair world would get their pick of schools and that's how things should be," Kate gestured around her "Maybe if the underperforming rich kids and their parents had any self-respect or care for others they would step aside and let those with real goals and ambitions take the lead then the school wouldn't have to lower its standards to meet them,"

"That's a lot of big talk coming from someone whose sister will be enjoying the premium quality of a private school funded by endowments, private donations and exorbitant school fees that I'm sure she is not going to be contributing to,"

"I'm talking big? You literally all buddy-buddy with the Featheringtons as if, despite being in the peerage like yourself, they too are on financial aid," Anthony hesitated, he didn't know that but Kate continued "But I guess a handout isn't called a handout when you have a title,"

Anthony was really frustrated now "Look what does it matter now anyway? Your sister is attending, and the school is changing their mandates. You won,"

"I won I know that much. I'm very good at it if you can recall but I do not like being made to feel like a pariah because I stood up for my sister and did everything I could to get her the best education," Kate was now so close every breath he took he was inhaling her maddeningly distracting scent.

"So I'm supposed to feel bad because I too did all I could for my sisters?" Anthony asked.

"Okay guys you both are good siblings, might want to take a break?" Tom interjected.

It was only then that Anthony noticed that almost everyone had left the room at that point. He looked at his watch and shit, he was late.

On the car ride over to work, Anthony could not help but think about the similarities between him and Kate Sharma. She too was a protective sibling and she clearly loved herself an argument. Despite it all Anthony finally felt like he got a glimpse into who she was and he was curious to know more.

That being said Anthony knew he might have to table those thoughts because she was seeing someone and she clearly disliked him. Despite the intensity of their exchange, Anthony thought staying clear of Kate was a good bet, the idea that they would be at each other's throats for the next few years sounded exhausting and yet compelling but also Anthony felt like getting involved with her would bring up too much introspection about the life he had been living and he was not ready to deal with all of that just yet.

Yeah, he was going to stay far away from Kate Sharma.

------

4 months went by and Mayfair Girls was putting on a recital for performing arts. Select excelling students, like Edwina, had been training for this moment for 2 months. This recital was significant, Edwina had done ballet performances since she had been at Mayfair Girls but this was the first time that a school-wide performance was being put on, especially when she had only been at the school a few short months. Even though Kate felt like Edwina had more than proved she belonged at this school, Edwina felt like this was the first time she could actually shine and Kate was nervous for her sister.

Kate had taken an active role in the school since Edwina's entrance and things had gone relatively smoothly. She did often bump into other parents who were still hostile about the circumstances of their children, things did get a bit tense when the school began to rescind admissions for some students.

The Carrigan twins were the first to go, Vince Carrigan was a prolific alcohol distributor in the country and was thinking of running a campaign for a labour slot. He was not happy when his daughters had to leave the school many thought he would sue but he did not have the grounds so others thought he would use his government connections in the future to change the rules unfortunately, it never got that far. The Carrigans were out and Vince Carrigan was arrested for fraud 2 months after that.

Next to go was Prudence Featherington, this caused quite a bit of gossip because Portia was the head of the PTA.

Up to 5 girls per grade were removed from the school and Kate thought the PTA or someone else would do something to change it but apparently, the shame of not meeting the standards of Mayfair Girls was enough to satiate any possible retaliation from parents. Portia on the other hand was less than friendly whenever she bumped into Kate. Although Kate loved to remind Portia that they were both in the same boat financially so her nose need not be so high in the air. At least Penelope was still at school, she seemed like a smart girl.

None of the girls who left the school were Bridgertons and Kate was finally secure enough to admit that she was relieved. She didn't even believe that Anthony had anything to do with Eloise and Francesca's growing performance despite what she would say in arguments with him.

She doesn't even who starts them anymore. All she knows is that they would get in a room together, eye each other intensely, fake pleasantries and then argue over things. They argued over parking spaces, school uniform, his dating life and her dating life. Anthony loved remarking on her relationship with Tom. Kate hated it. Maybe she did not love Tom but she did not like that despite calling him an old friend, Anthony would mock him. It was not something she liked to see or hear from him. She often wondered if he was jealous but decided against analysing that too much because she was supposed to be staying away from Anthony.

Only they couldn't stay away from each other it seems. Anthony's best friend it turns out: Simon. She remembers when she went with him as his date to an event and was stuck in the middle of their reminiscing of old party days. Kate got quite a bit of insight into how much of a player Anthony was, I mean Simon was too but she knew that. Anthony visibly blushed when Simon brought up the open relationship debacle with Siena. Apparently, despite his being shared, Anthony was not one to share. Kate rolled her eyes at the nerve of it all.

Kate hated herself a bit for wanting to know more. When she and Anthony ended up at the bar by themselves Anthony slid a cosmopolitan in her direction and Kate took it gratefully.

She asked if Siena was a sore spot and he blushed again and said it was complicated. Kate couldn't help herself she asked him if he was still in love with her, and she gazed at her drink the whole time.

Anthony laughed at the question and said "No. I used to think I was but lately, I've been feeling this pull to someone else that can only be attributed to deep devotion. It was never like this with Siena,"

Kate's breathing hitched, she tried to think of people she had heard or seen with Anthony and was drawing a blank. When Kate was with Anthony he tended to be singularly focused on her even if other people were chatting with them. It was exhilarating and dangerous. "Does she know?" Kate asked.

"I thought she would figure it out. I am not exactly being discreet, in fact, my siblings have called me out on it a bunch of times," Anthony said and Kate could feel his eyes on her.

Kate lost the battle she was having with her self-control and looked up at him. Anthony was now gazing at the dancefloor where Anthony's brother, Benedict, was dancing with his boyfriend Henry, in a sweet embrace.

Kate sighed and said "Well I doubt a guy with a title and a pleasing smile would have a tough time getting the woman he adores,"

Anthony looked at her with a giant smile on his face "You find my smile pleasing?"

Kate sighed "Despite being a man who thinks way too highly of himself, I cannot tell a lie,"

"So that is a yes?" Anthony asked inching closer to her.

Kate nodded and giggled at his giant puppy eyes gazing at her "Yes," and then her phone vibrated and Kate saw the message on her smartwatch. It was Tom.

"Don't worry Kate. I won't tell your boyfriend that you pine for me," Anthony said as he made his way away from the bar, from her.

"That's not what I said," Kate said walking after him.

They bickered the rest of the night and Kate felt like crap when she returned home to multiple missed messages from Tom.

Kate snapped herself back into the present and walked into the rented theatre backstage. She had gotten there early and secured a family pass for her and Mary, Kate wanted to wish Edwina good luck before the show started.

I guess Kate was not the only one who had that idea because a couple of parents lingered around backstage helping their girls get ready to perform.

Kate spotted her sister "Edwina,"

"Kate! Over here," Edwina said directing her towards one of the dressing rooms. It seemed Edwina was sharing with Francesca Bridgerton. Kate had reconciled months ago about Edwina's going friendship with Eloise Bridgerton. Both of them were incredible readers and Kate had more than once caught them asleep in the living room, books in hand.

"Hey, you nervous?" Kate asked

"Yes and no. I know I am a good dancer but everyone has bad days, I'm just hoping this isn't one of them," Edwina sighed.

"Bon, you are heads and shoulders above all the other dancers even on your worst days," Kate said hugging Edwina tightly.

"Even during December of last year?" Edwina asked.

Kate visibly shivered "Even then,"

Edwina looked at her, through the dressing room mirror, with scepticism but didn't say anything further.

"Do you need anything before you put on makeup? Water or snacks?" Kate asked.

"No, but you can keep me company for the next hour. Though you are going to have to leave and get to your seat cause you know how mom is terrible at finding her seating,"

Kate nodded, Mary was always losing her place or forgetting her row even when they went to the movie theatre.

A little while later Francesca came in with her makeup done, she was with her older sister Daphne and Anthony. In a lot of ways, Francesca looked like she could be both Daphne and Anthony's child because she looked like a mixture of them both.

The conversation in the dressing room was lively. Kate noted how Francesca was not much of a talker but she got her quips in now again. Apparently, due to the two-per-family rule, Anthony and Daphne had to wrestle with their mother for tickets. Luckily or unlucky their youngest sister, Hyacinth, started vomiting and their mother stayed behind relinquishing her ticket to Daphne.

They talked some more before Daphne said to Kate and Anthony "Why don't you two make your way out and find your seats? I can help the girls finish their makeup,"

Anthony gave Daphne a look she could not decipher and then got up, Kate did too, Mary would be here soon anyway. Kate gave Edwina a light kiss on the cheek and Anthony gave Francesca a kiss on the top of her head. The gesture was sweet it made Kate's heart constrict.

Anthony then led Kate out of the room and down the hallway.

It was quiet while they walked for a bit until Kate finally asked "Hey, did you ever get around to telling your beloved about your feelings,"

Anthony sighed, they were in the seating area now and it was still empty "No, I haven't. There's no point. She's seeing someone,"

Kate’s heart quickened as she realised his implication “Anthony be serious,”

“I am serious Kate. When have I ever not been serious?” Anthony asked.

Kate walked a few steps away from him and Anthony walked a few steps towards her “I’m confused here, Anthony. Last month you called me the 'Bane of your existence,”

“And yet you also the object of all my desires. A maddeningly frustrating combination I tell you,” Anthony spoke and he looked at her with such adoring eyes that Kate felt dumb that she hadn’t noticed his attention before.

“You never said-”

“When was I gonna tell you, Kate? PTA meetings with your mother? Clubs with Simon? When I spot you and Tom on a date?” Kate wondered when the last one could have occurred cause she didn’t remember ever seeing Anthony anywhere she was out with Tom.

Anthony reached for Kate, Kate was going to let him reach her but then her phone rang. It was Mary.

------

Concentrating during this recital was impossible. Anthony had told Kate how he felt and now she sat two rows from him, looking straight ahead. He wondered what she was thinking, what she was feeling. He felt like such a cad because Tom was a good guy, there was a point a couple of months ago when Anthony started to feel bad for slagging him off because Tom was not the problem. Anthony was the problem. He fell in love with a woman with a boyfriend.

He couldn’t even remember when it all started. He remembered first trying to avoid her and then bumping into her at PTA meetings and events. He noticed that when she was around her mother she tried to be on her best behaviour so he started taking joy in baiting her into arguments.

One day he and Kate got into a spat and Mary sent her away to get water.

Anthony felt himself flush when he saw Mary looking at him curiously “You know this is the first time 'the boy pulling on a girl’s pigtails’ story is starting to make sense to me?”

"I don't know what you mean," Anthony said to her.

"Sure, be a dear and tell Kate I went to the ladies," Mary said as she walked away.

Kate came back and Anthony informed her that Mary had gone to the bathroom "You know you and your mom are quite alike in your scrutiny?"

"Sure. Mary is a nurse so she deals with people who have done a whole bunch of weird stuff to their bodies in the hospital. It is quite interesting,"

"Yeah I mean you even look the same. The same discerning eyes,"

Anthony saw Kate go rigid and she said "That would be quite impossible but a nice thought. Mary's my stepmother she married my dad when I was 5 years old. 5 years later Edwina was born. My dad got sick when I was in law school but he didn't want me to take time off to take care of him so I actually doubled down and finished early. He died 3 years ago,"

"I'm sorry. If it's any comfort, it does get easier," Anthony replied.

"How long for you?" Kate asked.

"12 years," Anthony replied. It hadn't even occurred to him how much time had passed.

"Wait isn't your youngest sister 11?" Kate asked.

"Yeah, she was born a few months after his death. It was a tough time," Anthony explained. Usually, he was not forthcoming about his family but gave him a look into her life so he returned the gesture.

"I couldn't imagine. Edwina was a handful but at least she was 13. She could generally take care of herself," Kate responded.

“Yeah, I was the only one above 18 so anything that mother couldn’t do, I did. And there was a lot back then. Signing permission slips, pick-ups, groceries and doctor’s appointments. I kind of think that’s why I’m so organised even now. Despite things running a bit smoother now that everyone is older,” Anthony said only just realising how much he truly had to take care of, Kate put her hand on his arm and Anthony tried to ignore his speeding heart and the heat radiating off of that one spot.

“I mean I only had to worry about the fact that we were one paycheck down. I was still doing courses and training but had midnight shifts at bars and I did a bit of modeling at art studios. Anything and everything to keep us afloat. 13-year-old Edwina did not like having to learn how to take the bus and not being able to go on some school trips but once Danbury Law hired me it was a game changer. A good paycheck, way better than even my dad was providing. We finally could start having nice things again,” Kate said with a twinkle in her eye.

Anthony's heart ached for the Sharmas but mostly for Kate. It never occurred to him how dealing with his father's death would be made much harder if he also was concerned about money. If he needed a babysitter he could pay, if he was desparate he could send a car to pick up his siblings. Tutors, vacations, clothes and cars for Benedict, Colin and Daphne when they all turned 18. He even had his eyes on an electrical car for Eloise when she turned 18. Anthony wondered if anyone had ever actually gotten to spoil Kate like that since her dad had gotten sick and then he remembered Tom.

He remembered every bit of their conversation for weeks.

One night Anthony was drinking at a bar with Benedict when a guy approached him "Hello there cutie, can I get you a drink?"

"No, thanks but see that guy over there who looks similar to me?" Anthony pointed at Benedict dancing.

"Yeah he's like you but taller," The stranger said.

"He'll never let me forget it. You can buy him a drink," Anthony said.

Benedict was going through a rough patch and he needed a pick-me-up.

Anthony on the other hand was actually having a peaceful month. I mean he would still argue with Kate when he saw her but the venom in their exchanges had lessened and they would often end their exchanges laughing. Portia had scolded them on more than one occasion during PTA meetings about their giggling interruptions but Kate's takes on Portia's attitude often made him chuckle even sometimes when Kate was not there.

The bartender had come and given the stranger, Henry, his drinks "You sure you don't want anything?"

"Yep, I'm good. Designated driver," Anthony replied.

"You know there's such a thing as Uber, love?" Henry replied.

Anthony chuckled to himself "This is exactly the conversation I was having with Kate the other day. She was giving me shit because I have drivers on stand-by instead of just taking an Uber, even though she only started taking Ubers this year," Henry smiled at him and Anthony continued "She's periodically late to everything now because she never factors in finding a driver time. The other week she was 30 minutes late to the PTA meeting because she let her Uber driver take her to a gas station so he could get snacks. I was like 'He could have kidnapped you' and she actually gasped and said 'Kaseem would never'," Anthony chuckled to himself "You know for a woman who spent her twenties studying the law she sure as hell does not know about the crimes that can happen to her. That being said if it was her sister-"

Henry cleared his throat “Anthony you’ve been talking about your girlfriend for a while now with no break,”

Anthony could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and gulped his bottle of water "Oh Kate's not my girlfriend. She's not even a friend. Besides she's seeing someone,"

"Oh. Oh," Henry said with the second 'Oh' sounding a bit softer and Anthony looked down not being able to stand the look Henry was giving him at that moment.

"We understand each despite not really coming from the same background. Actually, we don't have much in common really, she likes RnB and Jazz and I like Rock music. We really only connect because we are both the oldest," Anthony rambled.

Henry gave Anthony a knowing look and said "Relationships have been built on less," Henry began to walk away and then said "Look, maybe you guys are not endgame but it seems like she's already taking up your time even if it is just mentally. You should go for it,"

"She has a boyfriend," replied.

"Football teams have goalies," Henry replied walking away for real now.

Anthony remembered sitting in the PTA last month, waiting on Kate he wanted to show her pictures from Hyacinth's 12th birthday party. He wanted to show her she was right about Hyacinth loving the idea of a mermaid theme, he would obviously fake contrition but it worked with their dynamic. Anthony looked at his watch and realised Kate was late again, sometimes he wished he could be linked to her Uber account so he could see how far away she was. There was that option on Uber security to let you share your trip with friends and loved ones...

Loved ones.

It hit Anthony like a brick. He knew he was attracted to Kate before he knew her name. He liked their banter but over the last two months, it had become more.

He was in love with her.

Anthony scolded himself for being so stupid. He knowingly fell for a girl that is dating his friend. And even if Anthony gave himself leeway by saying Tom was not a proper friend it still didn't account for the fact that Anthony was sure Kate despised him. She hated everything he stood for. And for the first time in his life, Anthony felt shame. Shameful for throwing his money around everywhere, for treating people with less than like crap and even the idea that even if he got in a relationship he would not know what to do because he had never been in one.

Anthony sat and watched Kate, barely registering the students that went on one by one. Francesca was last as the instrument portion was last and Edwina was after intermission because the dance portion was second. Now Anthony listened as people sang and then a girl got on and she started to sing 'Dancing On My Own' by Robyn only it was a lot more slowed down, this was obviously in the mix of Calum Scott's version. Anthony felt every pang of the lyrics:

"And yeah, I know it's stupid But I just gotta see it for myself

I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh I'm right over here, why can't you see me? Oh And I'm giving it my all I'm not the girl you're taking home, ooh I keep dancing on my own, ah"

At that moment Kate got up and Anthony instinctively did the same.

"Anthony, where are you going?" Daphne asked.

Anthony didn't even stop to look at her when he said "I'll be back just now,"

Anthony felt a bit like a creep following Kate out of the theatre and down the hall. So he decided to call out her name but she just sped up so Anthony did the same.

Anthony finally saw Kate turn into the bathrooms by the dressing rooms. Not exactly main bathrooms but if the dressing room bathrooms were overflowing the performers could come out here and use them. Anthony knew too much about theatres and bathrooms thanks to the plentiful times he has seen Daphne dance.

He stopped at the door. Took a breath and opened it.

------

Present:

Kate sat anxiously with Daphne on their couch waiting and then Simon appeared "So Anthony is stable. Turns out mixing prescription drugs from different psychiatrists is not a good idea,"

Daphne sighed relieved holding her pregnant belly "Thank you, Si. Did my mom say anything else?"

"Just that he is stable. Although she was concerned about how it took so long for anyone to find him," Simon said.

"You know Anthony. He keeps to himself, everything is so close to the chest," Daphne said.

Kate must have had a look on her face because Simon asked "Is there you might know Kate?"

"Not really. You guys know Anthony a lot better than I do," even though Kate's heart was hammering with relief with Anthony's condition she still felt a pain in her chest ever since she heard the news while having breakfast with Daphne and Simon.

"Kate, I don't think that is true," Daphne said.

"I have barely spoken to the man. We broke up over a year ago," Kate said getting heated.

"Yeah but ever since the engagement and wedding it seemed like you guys were at least friendly," Daphne said.

"Ah yes, the baby shower, where he screamed at me for not finding my own family to be a part of. Where he said I ruined his life and that he wished he had never met me. You mean that baby shower?" Kate asked choking up a bit at the end. Kate always thought the decisions she made were for the greater good. Justice and all that. But as she looked at a dishevelled Anthony during Daphne and Simon's baby shower she wondered if all the decisions she had made since she agreed to be Simon's Best Person was hurting Anthony and in turn his family.

"Kate, Anthony did not mean any of those things," Daphne said trying to calm her down.

"Yeah he clearly was going through a tough time and seeing you always hurts him," Simon said.

"Well thanks for the heads up, Simon. I have been hurting him with my presence for the last 7 months now. That information would have been helpful," Kate said now preparing.

"So you could do what? Not be a part of my wedding? So you could not be a godmother to my daughter? Kate I love you and Anthony is my brother now. I was tired of living separate lives with you two," Simon said with pain in his voice.

"Kate, we missed you," Daphne said softly like she was on the verge of tears.

"Maybe it's all for the best Simon. Daphne. Cause you are right Anthony is your brother and you have to prioritise family," Kate said as she left giving them no space to answer her.

She was sad, heartbroken and overwhelmed without even thinking she drove and drove until she was outside Mayfair private hospital.

#the crazy rich viscount who loved me #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #kathony #kanthony #kanthony fanfic #anthony x kate #kate x anthony #kate sharma

26 notes · View notes

religion-is-a-mental-illness · 10 months

Note

What is your take on the Supreme Courts decision to to uphold the ban on race as a deciding factor for admission to college?

“I just opened a brown girl who’s an 810 [SAT].”

“If its brown and above a 1300 [SAT] put them in for [the] merit/Excel [scholarship].”

“Still yes, give these brown babies a shot at these merit $$.”

“I am reading an Am. Ind.”

“[W]ith these [URM] kids, I’m trying to at least give them the chance to compete even if the [extracurriculars] and essays are just average.”

“I don’t think I can admit or defer this brown girl.”

“perfect 2400 SAT All 5 on AP one B in 11th” “Brown?!” “Heck no. Asian.” “Of course. Still impressive.”

“I just read a blk girl who is an MC and Park nominee.”....

“Stellar academics for a Native Amer/African Amer kid.”....

“I’m going through this trouble because this is a bi-racial (black/white) male.”

This, as noted by Coleman Hughes in his recent "10 Notes on the End of Affirmative Action" post, is the ugly racist reality of "Affirmative Action." The above logs from Harvard's chat system come directly from the Supreme Court documents. This is how the sausage is made. This is racial discrimination.

If what these institutions are doing is so good, then it's curious that this process is not made transparent. Harvard were even insisting that they don't do it, simply because they changed the name so that, technically, they were telling the truth. Shouldn't they be proud of their "equity" work? If it's something that's good, own it.

A lot of the discourse around this is exactly the same tactics we've seen with CRT and gender stuff: "Literally nobody is doing this, but if they are doing it then it's a good thing and you're a bigot for trying to stop it. But nobody's doing it so that's why we have to stop it from being banned. Because of the fact it's not happening." #KettleLogic

They should also be honest with applicants. After all, Harvard's motto is Veritas (i.e. "truth").

https://colemanhughes.substack.com/p/10-notes-on-the-end-of-affirmative

Imagine if every college rejection letter contained an honest account of why every kid was rejected. Imagine, for example, if the Asian-American kid who would have gotten into Harvard were she not Asian received an honest statement attesting to that fact in her rejection letter: “We regret to inform you that you’ve been rejected in part because you are Asian-American. Had you been black or Hispanic with otherwise identical qualifications, we would have accepted you.”

Coleman didn't go further, but I'd like to suggest the text for an acceptance letter: "We're pleased to inform you that you've been accepted to Harvard. This has occurred in part because of the color of your skin. Had you been white or Asian with otherwise identical qualifications, we would have deemed you as unsuitable."

Welcome to Harvard.

These institutions are neither transparent nor honest. This fact alone suggests they know what they're doing is wrong.

This is the result of what Harvard's system produces.

Sources:

https://www.supremecourt.gov/opinions/22pdf/20-1199_hgdj.pdf - Case

https://www.aei.org/op-eds/is-it-time-to-replace-race-with-class-in-affirmative-action/ - Chart

That is, an Asian person in the top 90-100 range on the academic index (higher scores are better) has a lower chance of acceptance than a black person in the 30-40 range.

Let's be frank: this is about expensive social signaling. Luxury beliefs.

Expensive, because it throws both black and Asian people under the bus. It's a way for elite progressives to signal how Good™ they are, without doing anything. Because it means they never have to wonder what could be done to actually lift black academic performance upwards, instead of lowering standards.

There's some suspicion that the quoted tweet is a parody account, but the fact it's so hard to tell these days means it kind doesn't even matter.

"You see that over here students are struggling, and instead of helping them more, you say, 'alright, well, we'll accept your failure.'" -- Dr. Amir Whitaker

If you're trying to "solve" academic disparity in the gap between high school graduation and university admission, you're out of your damned mind, you're over a decade too late, and you have no clue what the causes are, and therefore whether your "solution" will even do anything.

For example, it's uncontroversial that SAT scores correlate to study time, and that lower study time also corresponds to lower household income.

[ Source: https://www.brookings.edu/articles/analyzing-the-homework-gap-among-high-school-students/ ]

Why, and how can we address this, are all very interesting and worthwhile questions to pursue; there are few studies of enquiry that would be more noble and worthwhile.

Here's the thing: Roland Fryer did uplift very low performing black students to above the level of white students. But it took hard work.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8xWOlk3WIw

• "Aggressive Human Capital Management" - i.e. firing lots of teachers "You ask the teachers what you think you need to educate these kids. We got answers like, 'well, all we need is smarter kids.' I said, 'all you need is a new job.'" • Extra time "If you're behind, you either got to spend more time, or ask the white kids to please take Thursday and Friday off." • Small tutoring groups • Use data to drive instruction • High expectations and no excuses for failure

All of this is doable. It won't even cost all that much. But doing the hard work around student study time, performance expectations, staff management, etc, isn't as glamorous as online screaming to show off your progressive bona fides by calling everyone a racist. #MoreHomework isn't a hashtag that's going to go viral. And there's a certain class of person - usually white progressive elites - who wants to claim that the above common sense, pragmatic list is some kind of cloaked message of racism. "bLaMiNg pOc iNsTeAd oF DiSmAnTLInG SyStEmIc rAcIsM" or whatever. You know the song; it's the same one they always sing.

There are dozens of other problems in the way the US education system works which I've talked about before: teaching reading the wrong way; stupid woke classes in fake-math rather than real math; the lack of a fixed, defined curriculum; the pathological avoidance of teaching content. Many of these issues are magnified at the lower socio-economic classes. The failures in teaching reading, for example, can be offset among those in the middle-class if you're engaged in reading at home with involved parents and access to books. In poorer households with parents - or indeed, single-parents - who are time-poor and where books might not be as plentiful, the deficiencies of the education system aren't as likely to be mitigated at home.

So the problem often isn't an issue of race but of poverty. People pay attention to it as it affects race, but that misses the rest of the forest.

Remember the Harvard academic decile rankings table I posted earlier? It comes from an article by Ian Rowe titled "Is It Time to Replace Race with Class in Affirmative Action?" It makes, obviously, the case that assistance should be applied at the level of socioeconomics, not race. The idea that middle and upper-class black people - and yes, most black Americans are middle-class - need assistance, while poor whites, such as the Appalachian areas, do not and are "privileged," is pretty perverted. It assumes black people are incapable, while also redirecting help from people who would benefit from it, simply because they're white. It makes gross assumptions about everyone, while helping very few. If you help poor people, you'll help poor black people as well. Which is what the left used to be about. Remember those days?

I mean, have you ever actually looked at the Nation's Report Card? It's a portrait of a broken, inadequate education system.

[ Source: https://www.nationsreportcard.gov/dashboards/schools_dashboard.aspx ]

My point being that by the time you're talking about admission to university, it's already too late. This should have been addressed right from the beginning as children start school. Then you would have closer parity in terms of academic results, and closer parity in academic admissions.

One other thing that should be mentioned is something I recall John McWhorter discussing which is called "mismatch."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CU3hQfyEKQ

Studies on mismatch show that those lowered academic standards cause black people to attend schools where they're less likely to earn degrees than they otherwise would be.

That is, throwing a student of average academic capability into an elite institution is more likely to have them either fail out or drop out. It would be better to have them attend a university better fitting with their academic ability.

Especially as it relates to ambition. Why everybody needs to aspire to a pretentious, expensive - and let's not forget, woke, as clearly demonstrated - university as Harvard is beyond me.

“I wouldn't want to belong to a club that would have me as a member” -- Groucho Marx

Maybe that's just me, though.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0465029965/

Mismatch: How Affirmative Action Hurts Students It's Intended to Help, and Why Universities Won't Admit It Sander and Taylor have long admired affirmative action's original goals, but after many years of studying racial preferences, they have reached a controversial but undeniable conclusion: that preferences hurt underrepresented minorities far more than they help them. At the heart of affirmative action's failure is a simple phenomenon called mismatch. Using dramatic new data and numerous interviews with affected former students and university officials of color, the authors show how racial preferences often put students in competition with far better-prepared classmates, dooming many to fall so far behind that they can never catch up. Mismatch largely explains why, even though black applicants are more likely to enter college than whites with similar backgrounds, they are far less likely to finish; why there are so few black and Hispanic professionals with science and engineering degrees and doctorates; why black law graduates fail bar exams at four times the rate of whites; and why universities accept relatively affluent minorities over working class and poor people of all races.

And even for black students who legitimately make the admissions standards, their framed Harvard certification will have a cloud permanently cast over it. Did the black Harvard-attending economist you're interviewing for your company get there by merit or by lowered standards? Should you even bother with Harvard graduates any more?

Some of the other discourse is like "you're going to stop affirmative action..." - i.e. racial discrimination - "...but you're not going to stop legacy admissions!?" This is literally WhatAboutism. Both things can be wrong and unfair. "This thing being wrong justifies us doing this other wrong thing."

This case is about race-based selection, filed by Asian students who were being racially discriminated against. The case was not about legacies. You don't rule on a case that nobody has presented. And as far as I know, legacies are not explicitly in violation of the U.S. Constitution. If you think legacies should go away, then make the case. Find something in the Constitution, find a legal precedent, or make a challenge some other way.

But don't make excuses for perpetrating one wrong thing on the basis of another wrong thing.

Coleman's analysis is interesting and goes into depth, so is worth a read.

I won't reproduce the whole thing here, but the headings are worth a read at least:

“Affirmative Action” is a Euphemism for Racial Discrimination

“Affirmative Action” Affects the Elites, Not the Masses

The Benefits of “Affirmative Action” are Dubious

Mismatch is Real

“Affirmative Action” is Not the Product of The Civil Rights Movement

Quotas are a Red herring

We’re Confused About Diversity

Affirmative Action as Reparations?

The Equilibrium Will Change

If Not Affirmative Action, then What?

Finally, what I will say is that it's simultaneously interesting, gratifying and alarming all at the same time to witness the open and proud denunciation of the "colorblind" ideal espoused by MLK Jr, by people purporting to be "progressive."

When you criticize "equity" as discrimination by authoritarians to artificially manufacture their pet outcomes, people sometimes act like you're just making it up. Then a reaction like this happens and people start saying the quiet bit out loud, proving you right. Not that you necessarily want to be.

28 notes · View notes