#i have nothing against calc lol

[aro-ace-from-outer-space]

Calculus is so silly lol. Like, look at me I'm dividing by something that's infinitely small but not zero ooh hoo hoo I'm so quirky. I have a symbol that looks like a giant S which stands for sum haha I'm so creative. Oh guess what we're respecting letters now

#ap calc #ap calculus #ap calculus ab #i've officially failed my first calc quiz #huzzah #milestone #obligatory we hate collegeboard #i have nothing against calc lol

[jiminrings]

OKAY LISTEN idk if someone or you already planned sth like this but how about y/n finally decides to confess/tell jk but someone else claims to be her before she could do it so * cue to the angst bc y/n sees the whole thing/she hears from her friends * and ofc koo eventually finds out bc that b*tch doesn't even have the fucking lunchboxes 😑

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo's the three-peat king for having the best research papers, but he's the worst when it comes to believing the right person

"i think i'm gonna tell him."

you say it to no one in particular, really, but you hear yoongi rISING from his nap on the couch

it wasn't meant to wake him at all

it was just an epiphany of sorts that popped into your head

physically felt as if your head would just bursT if you didn't say it out loud to affirm your own thoughts lmao

"for real???" he's rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, very evident that he wouldn't wake up to finish his thirteen pending assignments but he 10/10 would wake up to hear your epiphany

yoongi is awake for the action!!!! lmao does professor roux from calculus think that he wakes up at the morning and doing shapes (or whatever they teach at calc) is the fIRST thing in his mind????

"interesting," he nods solemnly when you nod your head, reaching out for a fist bump before he plops to your shoulder, "i suggest dressing like a virgin wearing H&M when you confess. it would hit close to home."

yoongi's the touchy affectionate one between the two of you but you'll forgive him bc he's still sleepy

NOOOOOOO

jungkook doesn't look like a virgin wearing H&M :((((

his clothes aren't from there lol

"pass."

"say that you're a top verified contributor both in quora and brainly."

PLEAAAAAASE SJWHSHWHHWV

"nice idea," you snort as yoongs genuinely thinks that it'd get jungkook to propose on the spot, "but no cigar."

"pretend to love big bang theory."

"you're getting onto something here."

"your hobby is fact-checking rick and morty."

"yoongi wow you are on fIRE today-"

"your guilty pleasure is not wearing protective gear during experiments."

"where is this coming from??"

"OH!!!! i'll pretend to mug him or something and you can attack me!!!"

....

??????

yeah yoongi's train of thought just crashed

you were pretty sure he was going on a science theme there wHY DID IT DERAIL

yoongi looks confused because you look confused, as if he didn't just give you the mindblowing idea,, free of charge

lol but no he really didn't

"i'm not doing any of that shit, yoongs."

"oh yeah???" he squints at you and hollows his cheeks, taunting you entertainingly while he worms his way to your lap to nap again

"what are you planning to do?"

holy sHIT this is nerve-wracking

she feels like she's gonna pass out the whole time that she's been rehearsing this in her head

she's been waiting outside the classroom for twenty minutes now and the bell finally rang and she can't believe it!!!! omg is it game-time now

everyone's filing out of the room and she could just feel that jungkook would come out of the room last-

ALRIGHT FUCK THE BELL RANG

you could do this!!!!

everyone's filing out of the room and you know in your heart that jungkook would stay behind, his routine being to politely chat with the professor before he leaves

you're a lil nervous alright

you're scanning the room and there's only a few people left and your eyes instinctively go to the mini desk next to the door and-

FUCK

DID YOU FORGET TO BRING IT HOME YESTERDAY??????

goddamn it

yesterday was when coach jeong was mad because someone from your team just hAD to bring beer!!! and not even have the common sense to put it on a discreet thermos or sth and you know!!!! to not drink it in public or in front of the coach!!!!

doing laps on the oval field will now make you hurl on command just by thinking about it

you physically did not have the cognizance to go and fetch the lunchbox to wash it,,,, or like even move at all

FUCK IT

how are you gonna swipe the lunchbox now? now when the professor's packing up, jungkook's loitering around the classroom, and there's this girl who's-

wait

who's this girl??

who is she and wHY IS SHE EYEING THE LUNCHBOX

fuck it!!! here goes nothing

she's stepping completely into the room and making sure her block heels generate enough clacking,, hands already moving in practiced moments as she attempts in making it seem like she's rushedly putting the lunchbox bag into her tote — as if it's from there, and she's always done this

jungkook hears noises coming from the back of the room, eyes widening before he comes up the stairs in record time

"no. get your own."

he grips the girl's wrist, about to pry off her hands from his lunchbox

he hears her giggle sweetly, the melody being something he's heard before

"i did. after all, i did get you these."

:O

"hyeji?"

hyeji's a pretty girl!!! a nice girl in jungkook's year that wears fit dresses and cartier bangles :D

she stands out really, sometimes literally because she appears in the school's flyers and advertisements

"hyeji," jungkook breathlessly connects the dots including the fact that she looks caught in the act; holding his lunchbox, her tote bag open, and a peek of another completely different lunchbox in her other hand, "i-it's been you this whole time?"

hyeji blushes, sheepishly tucking her perfectly shiny and neat hair behind her ears, "you caught me then."

kook laughs both in nervousness and giddiness, pushing his glasses up and suddenly conscious that he should've worn contacts, "b-but how? we don't share this class."

:O

hyeji bursts into a giggle, blushed cheeks staining further than the five minutes she tried getting the perfect amount

"r-right! kinda amazing what depths you'd go for a person you like, hm?"

jungkook is about to pass out

HE'S PUT IN A SITUATION

a situation that he likes and is too giddy to find a reply for

he apparently doesn't need a reply, because a chair scrapes harshly against the floor and it brings him down to reality immediately

you cannot fucking believe what you just witnessed

you stand abruptly from the seat you've been frozen in with a great deal of urgency because you cAN'T stand to be in this room any longer

they actually forgot that the two of them aren't alone

that you're still here

little miss hyeji's just as shocked

you feel stupid and even more stupid that you're still holding a stupid notebook you even decorated

it has a doodle in the front and all the remaining pages are of the copies you've replicated on jungkook's sticky notes — the same ones you've been trying to make perfect just for him

"y/n!" he sputters when your backpack accidentally leans too much to your side and hits him on the way out

"move."

you’re feeling everything but fine and god you just hated that you always willed yourself to move oN

you’re beyond mad when you put on your jersey!!!

you’re irrevocably dejected when you put on your cleats!!!!

you feel cheated on when you zip up your duffel and walk all the way to the field!!!

it’s a combination of the type of frustration that makes you want to move plus the type that paralyzes you, the whole thing unlike anything you’ve ever felt before

you’re clearly in your head and frankly, you’re just too good

too good that there's no game at all because the only thing happening is you scoring

there's no passing going on or the sort

everyone is just :O looking at their captain to be in the most furiously determined state that they’ve ever seen you in

you don’t even realize that you’re the oNLY one moving in the whole field

“alright, alright — jesus christ! go to the bench and sort your head out, captain,” coach jeong literally has to JOG over to your spot to jolt you

oh there he is again

jaehyun just had to bench you didn’t he

sometimes it’s lost on you that jaehyun, just like seokjin, used to be your senior

he hated juniors with a burning passion and you’re the ONLY one he’s taken a tolerance for

((you lent him your umbrella and it coincidentially had to be a bad day for him tHEN that made him like you))

you’re having none of it though because this time, you’re the one who has the bad day and the captain title does nothing to appease you

“sure, coach.”

you mumble just as lively and walk to completely the fURTHEST side of the bleachers, being so far out that you could barely see your team

what are you supposed to do? simmer in the thoughts you so badly didn’t want to have in silence??????

"y/n?"

the voice you least expected to hear perks up right next to you

what the hell is jungkook doing here now??

he looks lost, two hands clinging onto his backpack straps before tentatively looking at you again

“did i do anything to upset you?”

so he wants to ask that?

you snort automatically, suddenly wishing that you didn’t walk this far because you can’t make an excuse that jaehyun’s calling for you

"because my bag accidentally hit you on the way out? no, jungkook."

jungkook knits his brows in question, seemingly take offense to what you’ve just said to hom

"we're not exactly associated for me to be mad at you, are we?" you emphasize even further, not caring the least bit that your words have an edge to them

he deadpans, pursing his lips before sarcastically smiling at you

".... so you're upset at me?"

://

jungkook takes your silence for him to delve further, not paying attention to how your eye is begging to twitch at him

"i asked if i did anything to upset you, and you said no. but that doesn't necessarily mean you aren't. you could be upset at me even if i didn't do anything to you."

wow

you sound like a real fucking nerd jungkook

"do you have any idea how condescending you sound right now?"

kook barely has a solid inch on you yet the nagging feeling that he’s belittling you makes you grip your fists tight, posture wavering

"so you do admit that you're upset at me?"

he’s not the most patient person either but something about you and the situation right now just makes him tick a little faster

your eyes narrow at what he’s aiming to get at, your hand on your hip feeling heavy at this point

"what does it matter to you if i'm upset or not? we are not-"

"i am associated to you!!! even to a degree!!! you walked me home!"

jungkook is the one who breaks first and he doesn’t look fazed to have opposed you so loudly, still standing by himself

"i would walk anyone home."

"no you wouldn't-"

"i would walk anyone who was as vulnerable and as anxious as you were, jungkook!!"

it is true

you’d walk anyone home within reason regardless if they were jungkook or not!!!

the guy in question only looks at you straightly, brows not stubborn but still just as unrelaxed

:((

"good to know. then you're not upset at me, and i didn't do anything to upset you."

"sure."

you only say just to spite him, about to turn your back and leave him completely to go back to your practice game

jungkook surprises you again and flips a switch just as quick as your mini argument of sorts escalated

"anyways!! i'm sorry for being a little off when i interviewed you that day. i got a 100 on that assignment, by the way :))"

what?

what’s he still doing here?

he’s talking about his grades and whatnot to you as if literally twenty seconds ago did nOT happen!!

"why are you still-"

"and the one who's been giving me my lunchboxes confessed to me today!! for hyeji to be the girl giving me them, it makes perfect sense."

you shrug away the weirdness that jungkook’s moved on from the argument as fast as this, trying a take two for a peaceful conversation

this time, you’re the one who unknowingly flips a switch at her name — something so foreign and sudden yet something you quickly grew to hate

"i wouldn't be so trusting if i were you."

that seems to hit a nerve on him again, making him scoff in reply

"good thing you aren't me then."

what is ON with him????

"watch it. i'm your senior, kid."

you’re more irritated than the first and second time around that you’ve been agitated this day

"why? are you normally this self-absorbed that you wouldn't trust a girl who's confessed??"

self-absorbed?

you aren’t the most selfless person ever but god do you know for a fact that you’re not vain as jungkook’s insisting you to be

you hate him.

you hate this version of him that isn’t the same jungkook you’ve known to like ever since the start of the semester

"same thing as polygraphs not being a hundred percent reliable. anyone could tell the truth as long as you ask the wrong questions," you detail on further because jungkook loves details, right? might as well give him several

"or did you even ask?"

jungkook scowls as if you’ve insulted his mother and his entire lineage, face contorting into everything but warm

"what does it matter to you? didn't you just tell me that we aren't associated? why are you projecting all your moaning on hyeji?"

WHAT

WHAT????

"you know what? maybe i am associated to you. i think i'd also tell this to everyone i'd walk home — maybe you shouldn't be too trusting, huh? maybe you shouldn't just let anyone walk you home."

the tears this time are more insistent to come out this time but you’d rather dIE than for jungkook to stain your pride like this

"no one should walk me home, besides you? is that what you're trying to say?"

no!!

for fuck's sake you aren't even finished with your point!!

before you could continue, jungkook shakes his head at you — the most disappointing shake of his head that it curses you soft

"what am i even doing? you wouldn't understand."

he closes the distance that’s been alarmingly shorter throughout the whole time, jungkook being the one to break it

"because no one gives you lunchboxes. no one exerts effort in making you cheerful — no one wants to go the extra mile for you, and no one wants to walk you home."

he's insulting you right to your face and that’s when your dam breaks, lips quivering impossibly as you stare him down with a genuinely pained gaze you didn’t know you carried

"you wouldn't know what i feel, because no one likes you."

jungkook gets the last word in.

he leaves you in the same field he's first approached you in nervousness.

today, he leaves it differently.

sweat isn't the only thing on your face but instead it’s the frustrating hot tears you haven’t had in awhile

your fists are balled but there's no power to the anger behind it

you’re almost always alone outside the company of the closest friends you’ve ever had — but this is the only time that you truly felt that you are alone.

today's a good day to give up on jungkook.

#WHAT DO WE THINK BESTIES!!!!!! alr this was the confrontation piece with all that build-up :D the pain #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabble #jungkook drabbles #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine

[presentfuckingmic]

Things I’ve done that I can totally see Mic doing:

I’m stupid good at lying and telling when other people are lying so I’ve had multiple occasions when people quit playing card games with me because I could Always Tell

Took a quiz over telling apart mice and rats, something I thought I couldn’t do, and got a perfect score

Refused to go to a class and got 100s on all the exams anyway

Accidentally took a class that I didn’t complete the prerequisites for (I took calc 3 when I hadn’t taken calc 2), didn’t realize until about 2/3rds of the way into the semester, still passed

The first time I ever played Risk I went against someone who’d apparently played a lot and was really good at it and ended up beating him so badly everyone else refused to play with me

Ruined the reputation of some guy cause he told me we couldn’t be friends cause he was too popular (not to be friends with him again, he was just a dick)

Was better at programming than my entire class (honestly entire school) but I fucking hated programming and refused to actually practice it or do more than the bare minimum

Had a friend who asked me what I saw when I looked at them and I ended up (correctly) listing their biggest insecurities (THEY FUCKING ASKED)

Was the youngest person to take almost all the math classes at my high school and literally didn’t have one to take in my final year

Successfully convinced someone that I had taken the class we were both in before (like them) when I had, in fact, not (this happened twice and one was when I took calc 3. The class I didn’t complete the  prerequisite to)

Convinced someone of a “fact” I had made up was true (to be fair, I told them I didn’t know for sure. And this has happened so many times)

Won an argument with my right winged bigoted gov teacher about politics

Have gotten to the point where most people can’t look me in the eye cause I make them Afraid (not anymore, I don’t look at ppl anymore)

Terrified the only guy in my grade that was anywhere near my brand (not level, my brand is very distinct) of intelligence by just existing

Convinced someone (who already knew me) I was someone else for a solid 5 minutes before I got bored and corrected them

Convinced an entire group of people that I either hated them or loved them because I refused to treat them as if there was a hierarchy in place

Had a therapist tell me that a) I was extremely emotionally mature (lol) and b) that they didn’t know how to help me because I had already tried all of their strategies

Convinced a guy who thought he was better than everyone that I was better than him (to be fair, I just acted how I normally act and I didn’t even think I was better than him or anything)

Silently stared someone down until they told me what I wanted to know (to be fair, it took a lot of yelling and insults from them) (this was also my mother)

Had someone talk to me about how good they were at something only for me to realize I was better than them with less than a quarter of the effort

Have had a total of one (1) teacher actually get me to properly pay attention in class and that was when I was 13 and in a class everyone else hated cause it was “too much work”

Convinced someone to tell me something because they thought I’d figure it out anyway (I didn’t even ask and I wouldn’t have tried to figure it out because I respect privacy but they were right to think I could’ve)

Had someone tell me that if I lead a cult, they’d join and I’d be great at it

Figured out I could tell a lot more about a person than they could tell about me so in order to combat that I decided to start exaggerating all my expressions and actions and it did Nothing

Memorized a song after hearing it twice, freaking my sister out

#I’m the type of person who can figure out complex math problems without help but my emotional intelligence is still higher than my logicshit #hey guess who has autism #anyway this is me being smart and having autism for a Hot Minute #which coincidentally- #I don’t really see any of these things as a big deal. it’s just the type of bullshit I base mic on when I write him #and like. it does come with downsides. I do not understand other ppl at all. like I can keep up with them and read them but past that? nope! #and I didn’t even realize gender was a real thing until I was 12 #OR that romance was different than friends+ until I was 16 #bnha #mha #present mic #hizashi yamada

[burnedbyshoto]

disconnected

— Kirishima answers a phone call that wasn’t intended for him, and of course he can’t help but be interested in the beautiful voice and soul that angrily began to rant about their day. —

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, lil angst (lol sorry), cursing

word count: 7,786

a/n: this was a stupid thought that slammed into my mind, and here it is!!!! now I have a calc midterm tomorrow that I did not look at because why think about double derivatives and integrals when I can think about kirishima????

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It was eleven at night when Kirishima strolled out of his bathroom, ready to go to bed. After a rather long day, he was looking forward to sleeping and not having to wake up at the crack of dawn. Tomorrow for the very first day in a very long time, he wouldn’t have to work at the local coffee shop he was hired at. It was a job he had acquired with his good friends on the promise of it being a manageable job on top of his college work, and of course, the pretty girls who would go in.

From what Kirishima had gathered from the four months working there was that there were a lot of pretty girls who entered the coffee shop — most of which were focused on the angry ash-blond friend of his — and that it was so unnecessarily stressful. 

Some days he was up at four in the morning to open at six for the morning regulars, then he’d go to his afternoon classes, only to return for a two-hour shift in the middle of rush hour, and would leave while trying to keep the peace between a certain ash-blond and two new hires. To say the least, it was hell on Earth at times. 

Regardless, he didn’t have to open tomorrow morning, so he was content! On top of not having classes tomorrow, Kirishima was excited to sleep in.

Falling on his bed with a massive sigh, Kirishima snuggled his face into his pillow, rejoicing in the way that the laundry detergent still clung to the fabric and relaxed.

Sleep sounded so—

RIIING.

RIIING.

Kirishima’s eyes slammed open, his head snapping to see his illuminating phone on his nightstand. He had no idea who the hell was calling this late. There was no way it was Bakugou; he was asleep already at this point. Sero had broken his phone two days ago during a failed stunt and wouldn’t be able to get a new phone until the weekend. Kaminari only called him when there was a bug in his apartment, but he was currently closing… maybe it was Mina? Kirishima shook his head, no, he hadn’t spoken to Mina in ages.

Grabbing the phone, he didn’t bother to look at the caller ID and answered.

“Hello—?”

“Oh my god, I am fucking raging! You can’t believe what kind of fuckery I just went through tonight!” a voice shouted into the receiver, and Kirishima flinched a bit at the loud and angry voice. “So you know how I wasn’t supposed to work today, right? Because my coworker had sex with her ex-boyfriend like an idiot, and I owed her for covering my shift three months ago, but anyways irrelevant. I’m taking the order of this one group of adults. That’s right, A-D-U-L-T-S, adults! They are completely staring at my tits the entire time, and not my face. At first, I thought maybe you know, I had spilled something on my tits earlier, no. No! NOTHING! So I call them out on it, and they say something along the lines of ‘you could be a camgirl with that body, but like not in a sex sort of way’ I’m sorry, WHAT?! Like yes, continue sexually harassing your server who is a college student and therefore has no will to live, so will gladly beat your Gucci belt wearing ass into a bloody pulp! What they gonna do? Sue me? I have one dollar to my name, fucking take it, I don’t care, I’ll find another dollar in the sewer after I beat their asses up!

“But you know, I’m saying all this in my head because I’m broke and can’t afford to be fired from this place because the tips are hella good here. But they continue saying dumb shit, and then the obvious ringleader — I know he was the ring leader because his beard looks like it was the first picture printed on a new ink cartridge and his manspread was ten times wider than all of theirs — have the fucking audacity to slip his number while only tipping TEN DOLLARS ON A TWO HUNDRED DOLLAR TAB!!!!” Kirishima doesn’t know what to say, his jaw on his mattress, breathing having stopped while your voice wheezes from your lack of air. He makes a croaking noise, wanting to speak up and apologize for what had happened and for not being the person you thought it was, but it seemed that you weren’t over. “AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THAT FUCKING KAREN!!! ‘I didn’t like the way you looked at me so I won’t be tipping you tonight!’ yeah, well maybe if you didn’t order enough FOOD TO FEED AN ARMY AND KEPT SENDING IT BACK I WOULDN’T BE LOOKING AT YOU LIKE THAT!!!”

There was a pause, and Kirishima, while feeling entirely sorry for you, finally spoke, “Fuck, that sounds... horrible.”

“Damn right, it was horri— wait, who the fuck is this?” your voice squeaked, and Kirishima almost started to laugh at the difference in the tone your voice took. Once so loud, angry, and entirely ‘fuck the world,’ had changed into a meek and embarrassed voice.

“Um, this is Kirishima. Kirishima Eijiriou?”

“This isn’t Hagakure?” you moaned into the phone. “03-9082-2395? That isn’t this number?”

“2-2-9-5,” Kirishima repeated his own number back, a small smile overcame his features knowing that you had accidentally misdialed a number.

“Fuck my fat fingers,” you cursed, and Kirishima chuckled lightly at the mutterings that were poorly picked up. “Well, um, I am so sorry for calling you and dumping that unnecessary bullshit on you—”

“No, no,” Kirishima interrupted, rolling onto his back, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling. “It’s totally okay! You seem less stressed out now too, and it really isn’t a big deal!”

“You are very kind, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, and Kirishima can’t help but imagine a figure curled up on a couch.

“Thank you!” he beamed, a hand threading through his hair, “um, but what happened with the Karen? And why were you typing in your friend’s phone number?”

“Do you really want to know?” you ask after a fit of bubbling laughter; it seemed that you were not at all convinced.

“I work at a coffee shop for one, so I totally understand the Karen situations! Secondly, all my contacts are on my phone, I don’t have a single one of them memorized!”

“Okay, okay, okay, I do not have this number memorized! Hagakure is my roommate, and she has a new number that she left posted on our fridge and because Mr. Sprinkles left in the middle of my rant, I called her to finish it!” you explain in what Kirishima could only consider being childlike glee. “And a coffee shop? Oof, Kirishima, you might have it just as bad as I do then.”

“Ever had a boiling cup of coffee thrown back at your face?”

“Shut. Up.”

“I wish I was joking!”

“The nastiest thing I’ve ever been put through is a highschool couple breaking up in the middle of the restaurant, and a bowl of cold soup and milkshake were thrown at me! And I had to work for another five hours!”

“That… that beat mine by a long shot…”

“Okay, but like, it was cold. If you hadn’t dodged, you’d be dead!”

As time passed Kirishima soon found himself sitting up on his bed, his back pressed against the headboard, a lamp on so that he wasn’t in the dark while he talked to you. Somehow conversation flowed so perfectly between the two of you, so smoothly, so naturally. You had extremely compelling energy and a pretty bright one at that as well. Your stories were exceedingly extravagant, most derailing into hundreds of side stories before making its way back to the main point, but he didn’t mind. Though there was no proof, he imagined that your arms were swinging around while you talked, a bright smile on your face, and lights shining in your eyes.

“So anyway, I had to beg my professor to let me remake this exam because, for some reason, my brain would not switch back to Japanese. I almost cried because I was only speaking in English, and I think because I am an amazing person, my professor let me do that!” you laughed after explaining an issue with being fluent in a third language. 

“My English skills deteriorated after leaving high school, I’m rather jealous you can speak three languages,” Kirishima admitted, his head falling back onto the cold wall. “My Japanese professors probably think my Japanese sucks too.”

“Just because I am amazing and can speak three languages doesn’t mean I’m perfect at it,” you laugh, obviously trying to make him feel better about himself.

“Mm, I don’t know, you’re painting yourself as a pretty perfect person,” Kirishima sighed. “Or you have an enormous ego…”

A loud scoff came from your end of the phone, and Kirishima waited for your verbal retaliation but was met with a moment of silence.

“Oh! Welcome home!” you called out, and Kirishima quickly put together that your roommate Hagakure was home. “Yeah, no, I’m talking to someone right now! ...who? Oh, um, a friend! ...no, I tried to call you when I got home but misdialed your number and got him instead! NO! You’re not going to get a pic of him! Wait, it’s what time?!”

Kirishima’s eyes fell over to his alarm clock and saw in the dim red light that it was 04:57. 

His jaw dropped.

“Well, um, Kirishima, it seems that our call is going to end,” you whisper into the phone, and Kirishima lets out a breathless chuckle, sudden sleepiness creeping into him. “It was pretty fun chatting with you stranger, thanks for putting up with that ranting in the beginning! Most normal people wouldn’t have picked up or let me rant like that!”

“It’s no problem,” Kirishima smiled softly, his fingers stretching out to turn off the light. He licked his lips, five hours on a phone call with an absolute stranger, and he didn’t have your name, and better yet, a part of him wanted to ask if it was okay to be friends. You were magnetic to him, and he wanted to know more about you, even if this was this weird modern and accidental penpal thing. “I didn’t have anything to do today, and you were fun talking to!”

“Aww, thank you!”

Silence.

Ask, he thought, his teeth biting down onto his bottom lip. Ask!

“Um, I know this is weird and all, but do you think I can keep your number?” you ask, your voice almost timid and meek.

Kirishima’s heart rate spikes at those words, he very much wanted that, but his mouth had a mind of its own it seemed. “Why?”

“Wha— well, I just had a lot of fun talking with you! It was fun, and I don’t know, you seem like a pretty chill guy!”

His fingers gripped his phone, a warmth spreading through him when he relaxed under his sheets. “On one condition.”

“Oof, if you’re going to ask to decide between Crimson Riot or All Might you’re going to be—”

“No, no,” Kirishima lets out a snort, his shoulders rolling while he imagines the curious look coming over your face. “I would like to know your name?”

“My name? Why would you want— HOLY SHIT! I never gave you—” there was a loud noise on your end of the call, and Kirishima heard you apologize profusely before returning in a hushed whisper. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t give you my name?!”

“No,” he laughed loudly, one that was pushed from his belly, spreading warmth through his body. “You never did, but I did learn every name of every person you’ve ever talked with!”

“God,” you groan, a small whine emitted from you. “I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry! Y/l/n y/n at your service!”

Y/l/n y/n, that’s a pretty name, he thought while imagining just what you could look like. 

“Well, goodnight y/l/n, I’ll save your number, and we’ll see if you still would like to be friends when you wake up?”

There was a small noise of agreement, “I’m like a drug, Kirishima, you’ll be back for more.”

“Okay, okay, goodnight…”

“Goodnight, sweet dreams!”

“Sweet dreams.”

Kirishima listened to the line ending, and he pulled his phone away from his ear and no sooner did he do that, a text came in at what he believed to be your number:

don’t let the bed bugs bite! 🕷😱‼️

He snorted and replied back before eventually letting sleep consume him.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“You’ll never believe what just happened!” you squealed into the phone, and Kirishima laughed while wiping his sweaty face with a white towel. You had called thirty minutes earlier than usual and had caught him leaving the gym.

It had been a bit over two months since your misdial, and things with you had been going pretty well for strangers. The two of you didn’t talk every day, most weeks going by with just a single call, but they were always delightful talks. You worked most nights, and he most mornings, the two of you discovered. So most calls took place the night he didn’t have to work the following morning. 

“You got a customer who complained that there was too much salt in their meal that had no salt in it?” he asked, pulling a random story of something that had happened at his own coffee shop today. You let out an amused snort, a clear indicator that he was wrong, but found his guess to be amusing at the very least.

“No, but oddly enough, someone did ask for an insane amount of salt on their food and hated it!” you sang, clearly happy with how you found their distress to be funny.

“Close enough!” Kirishima laughed, but he was straight out of guesses, so he stopped. “So, what happened?”

“I tried coffee for the first time ever today!” you squealed loudly, and Kirishima cheered happily.

Through these two months, there were some hard facts that Kirishima had learned about you. One, you were living in the same city as him. Two, you worked at a semi-classy restaurant. Three, you had two roommates named Hagakure and Jirou. Four, you were twenty, just like him. And five, you were a child who only drank hot chocolate and tea because you were afraid of coffee.

~

“Caffeine is a drug you know,” you had snarkily teased him one night when he said he was going to make a cup of coffee. “Nice to know I’m friends with an addict!”

“If drugs were as amazing as coffee, I’d be an addict!”

“You know…” your voice whispered, your voice suddenly taking a guilty approach. “I’ve never actually tried coffee…”

“WHAT?!”

~

“Wow, look at you, becoming an old woman in front of my own eyes!” Kirishima chuckled, starting his walk back home. 

His fingers pushed the headphones to be more secure over his ears, hopeful that there it wouldn’t pick up too heavily on the wind of the outside world. 

“To be honest, it wasn’t that good, your taste buds are just tarnished from drinking that bitter crap all day!” you huff and he half imagined you turning your nose up.

“Okay, okay,” Kirishima laughed, a warmth flooding in his chest at the sounds of your muffled laughter. A visible indicator that you were also amused at this. “I hated coffee until I started working at a coffee shop, and that was because I needed to know my shit.”

“Wow, you only got that job while not being a coffee addict?” you tease. “Seems like a fake barista to me.”

“It’s pretty hard to believe, I know,” Kirishima stated his tone one of fake melancholy. “I’m so sorry for deceiving you, and honestly, I am a shit barista.”

“Aww, don’t say that!” you exclaim, and it seems like you’re ready to fight him. “I bet you put all those fancy TikTok baristas to shame!”

“TikTok?” he laughed, his pace speeding up just a bit so he would get home faster. “Wow, I am honored you think that!”

The light conversation continued, nothing too deep or too intense, just chatter about today's shifts and classes. Eventually, Kirishima made it back into his apartment complex, and stumbled into his room, collapsing onto his bed. 

“Can I ask something?” you ask suddenly, and Kirishima lets out a small hum.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?”

“What do you look like?” you asked softly as if you were curled up in bed, seconds from letting sleep consume you. “I haven’t come up with a mental image that I like, and well, I want some hints.”

“I can just send you a picture of me,” Kirishima smiles, his eyes closing. “It would be much easier than me trying to explain to you what I look like.”

“No!” you disagree, and there's a long sigh from your end of the phone. “I’m not ready for that kind of information yet, Kiri. I just… I can’t accept a pic of you without sending one back, and I’m not mentally ready for that yet…”

“Don’t tell me the big fat Gucci bougie you is shy?!” Kirishima exclaimed, humor drowning his words as he referenced you to something you had called yourself one drunken night weeks ago.

“Not shy!” you bemoan, your voice muffling out at the end of it. “I’m more scared you’ll find me ugly and ghost me…”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Kirishima interjected, his voice stable and confident.

“Which part?”

“Both parts.”

“How do you know that? You don’t know what I look like…”

“...call it… Kirishima’s intuition,” Kirishima slowly stated, his eyebrows furrowing. “I find your voice and your personality to be attractive on their own, so I would never ghost you. And of course, appearance isn’t anything; plus, there’s no way you’re not gorgeous.”

He says these words with honest truth, and a part of him fears he overstepped and made you wildly uncomfortable with the amount of silence that is heard from your end of the line. But finally, as Kirishima is ready to apologize to you, a soft exhale is heard.

“You’re a dork,” you whisper, and a soft grin spreads on his own face. “Anyways, I’ll ask questions, you answer them first, and then I’ll do the same.”

“Sounds good!”

“Hair color?”

“Black, but I dye it red.”

“Mm, edgy teenager, I like it, and also knew that because you complained about your stained sheets! Eye color?”

“Red.”

“Oh, am I sensing a theme? How tall are you?”

“I’m… a bit over six feet?”

The list went on, most questions becoming more of a joke than anything else, but he was glad that you were asking these things because now he had an insight on how you looked too. You had told him your eye color, your hair color, how tall you were, and a whole bunch of trivial things he would have never thought to ask about to begin with.

“Okay, last question!” you cheered, happy to have finally included Kirishima into your inside joke that revolved around your eyebrows. “Do you have any distinguishing features?”

“Well, I don’t actually...” Kirishima admitted, his fingers brushing against the scar on his eye, and then it hit him. That was one! “Oh, wait—” CRASH. A loud crashing noise emitted from your side of the call.

“Shit, hold on!” you curse and Kirishima can only remain silent while he hears you yelling in the background, it was too far away for him to quite understand, but it was enough to know that it didn’t sound okay. 

Kirishima sat on his side of the call, the phone pressed to his ear while he tried to strip his gross and sweaty shirt from his body. His teeth bit into his lip, his canine pressing into the permanent indent of his lip, an indicator of how anxious he used to be. 

“Fuck, Kiri?” your voice suddenly snapped back onto the call, your tone frantic and quick.

“Everything okay?”

“No, Hagakure showed up drunker than… a drunken drunk, I don’t know expressions, ANYWAYS I know tonight is our unofficial official call night, but anyway I can get a rain check?”

There was guilt that swallowed your voice, a pang of guilt that made Kirishima warm a bit because it showed that you valued these calls, just like him. 

“Of course, I don’t have class or work Friday morning this time around, so Thursday night?”

“That works perfectly,” you sigh, gratitude. “I owe you, text you later if you don’t fall asleep! Goodnight, sweet dreams, love ya!”

Kirishima couldn’t repeat the whole statement before you hastily hung up, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face the entire time he showered. The shower didn’t take too long, and by the time he emerged from the shower, towel around his neck and his waist, he had a text message. 

sero - hey bro!!! i can’t pick up my morning shift tomorrow i know you have tonight to speak w y/n but todoroki and bakugou can’t cover it!

Kirishima sighed, he definitely didn’t have anything tomorrow anyways, he could manage with going in for an extra shift to help a friend.

kirishima - yeah sure what time?

sero - youre a life saver T-T im covering 8 am - 3 pm!!!

Kirishima sent a simple affirmative emoji before finishing up his nightly routine. 

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Kirishima looked at his apron while he was assembling himself in the backroom. The aroma of roasted coffee beans and pastries was almost pungent in the back, and he was eager to get out of there. As per employee regulations, he was to wear a black apron, a name tag, and something to hold his hair because it was a bit too long, for that, he wore a white bandana around his forehead.

“Wait, where’s my name tag?” Kirishima called out, his eyebrows furrowing when he turned out to Kaminari, who was currently in the back with him.

The blond froze and scratched the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly, “About that…”

So Kirishima was in the front of the store with a shiny silver name tag that read Hanta Sero. Because Kaminari was the best barista they had on hand currently, he was busy teaching Midoriya — their newest hire — around the bar. For now, Todoroki was nowhere to be found, and Kirishima was handling the cash register. 

Today was a slow morning, most people had their day off today, so morning coffee rush wasn’t in existence. Sure, there were a few outliers, but it was never chaotic. 

The gentle bell of the front door rang, and Kirishima automatically called out.

“Welcome!”

You had walked into the store, your eyebrows furrowed while you prayed that this was the coffee shop your roommates had been raving about. You’d never been here before, but it was the closest coffee shop available that wasn’t something generic and basic like Starbucks. You looked up from your phone at the voice, a thank you automatically being repeated while you neared the register.

You froze when you saw the red hair and the red eyes of the handsome man at the register. A careless thought entered your mind, Kirishima said he had red hair and red eyes… but he said he didn’t work today… 

A kind smile sat on his face, his eyes taking you in, waiting for you to approach him. 

This couldn’t be him, right?

The last time you had assumed a redhead working in a coffee shop was Kirishima, it had ended embarrassingly. 

“Um, hi,” you drawled out, your eyes reading the board to figure out your own order. 

Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, you were exactly what you had described to him, but he wouldn’t ask until he was sure. He would ask you for your name after collecting your order for either tea or hot chocolate, and if it was you, he’d reveal that he was Kirishima. But he didn’t want to be wrong; he didn’t want to pin any other person as you, after all.

“I’ve never been here before,” you confess, your hand rubbing the back of your head. You were transfixed on the caramel macchiato that was spelled in the prettiest font, though, plus Hagakure promised all their coffee was good. 

“Oh, well, welcome! If you need any recommendations or have anything else to order, I can put those through while you look?”

His smile was kind, and you felt blood rush to your face, something you desperately tried to fight off by thinking of anything you didn’t like. 

“Oh! I do have two orders, though! There’s going to be one chai tea latte with three pumps of vanilla, and a lavender tea with a splash of oat milk.”

Kirishima nodded his head, “Will this be for here, or to go?”

His voice sounds so similar to Kirishima, you hoped, studying his face. While you answered that it was to go, you saw a distinctive scar on his right eye. Kirishima had said he didn’t have any distinguishing features… 

“What are your favorites here?” you ask, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, your thoughts very evident in your face.

Kirishima couldn’t help but find hope bubbling up in his chest, there was always the possibility that you two lived in the same city-based off the same area code, and with what seemed like an incomplete knowledge in coffee, maybe…

Kirishima rambled off about the different seasonal drinks right now, his recommendations leaning towards the teas and non-coffee things primarily after his general and basic list. You seemed to take every word out of his lip like gospel, agreeing and nodding when appropriate, and his lips stretched into a grin when you bluntly exclaimed your ill knowledge of this all.

“To be honest, I only step into coffee shops to take a cute pic and then leave,” you laugh, pressing your hands against your lips and screaming a bit in your throat. 

Kirishima laughed, more confidence blooming through his body over the hope that this was you. It had to be you.

Your eyes then found the nametag on his apron, and like a sinking ship, you read Sero.

Not Kirishima.

“And for you?”

“I’ll have the caramel macchiato,” you decide, a grateful smile on your face while he looks down and writes the orders.

“A name?”

“Penny,” came your automatic response.

You never used your real name in coffee shops.

Kirishima suppressed the way that his mouth wanted to drop into a sad smile, and like two rejected teenagers, the money was exchanged. Before Kirishima could attempt to calm his disappointed soul, you walked out of the shop with the coffees and tea in hand.

“What was that about?” Kaminari asked, his eyes wide. “There was so much flirting and then poof, gone from both sides. Come on, dude, it’s my job to fail at flirting, not yours!”

Kirishima laughed, ignoring the way that his three friends looked at him with concern and curiosity. “Nothing, I just… the customer looked like how y/n described herself to be…”

“Oh… sorry, bro.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Kirishima waved it off, and without so much as another slap on the back, he went back to work.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“What the hell are you doing?”

Kirishima looked up from his phone, his fingers mid-type pausing only for a millisecond before continuing to text blindly. 

“Oh, hey, Bakubro, what’s up?” he cheerfully spoke, ignorant to the controller in the ash blond’s hand. 

“It’s your turn, shitty hair, pay fucking attention!” Bakugou barked, tossing the plastic controller into his chest. Kirishima grunted, the feeling of the plastic slamming against his chest was less than ideal, but the smile on his face didn’t waiver while he offered his best friend the controller back.

“It’s all good, you can have another turn, I can handle being out this round!”

“Kiri, that’s six rounds in a row,” Kaminari spoke up, his face in a teasing smirk.

It was then that Kirishima’s face turned approximately the same color as his hair. “I didn’t—”

“Awww, Eijirou has a little crush on y/n!!!” Kaminari sang, resulting in agreeing with noises from Sero and Midoriya. Only Bakugou and Todoroki remained silent. 

Kirishima only laughed, he knew he couldn’t deny that fact, but he wouldn’t say it aloud — especially because Bakugou seemed to hate you. It had been now four months since the two of you had ‘meet,’ and while he still had no face to imagine you with, things had taken a slightly flirty route between the two of you.

Calls were much more frequent, nearly all nights the two of you would speak, even if it was just a measly summary of the day and a ‘sweet dreams’ and a ‘goodnight’ and an ‘I love you.’ It always happened nowadays.

Tonight was an exception, of course, because he was out with his friends, and apparently, you were doing the same. 

“You can’t be fucking serious?” Bakugou spat, a laugh spluttering from his lips, but it was cold and held no humor. “You caught feelings for a person who’s too much of a fucking coward to reveal a picture of themselves?”

“That’s not fair; besides, it's not about physical appearance!” Kirishima waved him off, pressing send to his text message.

have fun tonight! text me when u get back home if ur able to!

“Just how naive can you be?” Bakugou sneered, his hand taking the phone from Kirishima's side. “Six months of talking every week, texting every day, and this y/n still hasn’t trusted you with a single picture of them? I know you said that she told you how she looked, and all that shit, but let's be real, it’s so easy to lie about how you look like when you don’t have to provide a picture. What y/n say? Big tits? Big ass? Small waist? What about her did she say that made you so fucking insane over her?”

“N-Nothing! We didn’t talk about our body types!” Kirishima’s eyes widened significantly, the once comfortable atmosphere of the room wholly gone while Bakugou’s vermillion eyes seethed silently. “None of that matters! I told you the truth! I like y/n because of her personality, she’s manly, and I like that a lot! It’s not about her appearance, how pessimistic can you get, bro! I promise you, she’s trustworthy!”

“Is she really?”

“What?”

“How can you be in love with someone who you trust entirely, but doesn’t trust you at all? You said that y/n won’t show you a picture of herself because she’s scared you won’t like her? How is that trusting you? How is that fucking fair? To me, that sounds like some fucked up catfishing thing.”

“We talk on the phone, dude,” Kirishima said softly, but those thoughts were invading his mind. Did you not trust him? He knew he wasn’t the best option in the world, and he had accepted that in time and by improving on what he thought he was best at. But did you, after all this time, really not believe him when he claimed nothing would change when he saw you? “Catfishes don’t even do that… besides, the first call was by accident, why would someone—”

“Dunce face, what’s that one fucking idiotic thing you do for fun?” Bakugou snapped at the blond, not even bothering to look at him.

“Well, there’s a lot of things I do that you—” Kaminari laughed awkwardly, his smile tight and awkward.

“Kaminari.”

“I call… random numbers… pretending to have a big issue to see how they react…” he admitted, and Kirishima’s stomach clenched.

“And?” Bakugou snarled.

“I pretend to be a girl…”

“Don’t be stupid, Bakugou, this is more than one time!” Kirishima groaned.

“It's a voice that you can’t attach a face to, who knows if this is a person you can trust! People with voice acting exist in this world, how the hell do you possibly know that they’re not one of them?! Be fucking real, if ‘y/n’ trusted you, if that’s even their name, they wouldn’t be hiding their face from you.”

Kirishima didn’t say anything else, the acid piling in his throat was too much for him to even look at his friend. The night didn’t really recover from that conversation, and Kirishima eventually found himself back home.

He sat at the edge of his bed, his phone in his hands, waiting for a message from you. He couldn’t sleep, and even though he had work tomorrow morning, he found himself wide awake, unable to let sleep consume.

It was three in the morning when you sent a text, his eyes still wide awake, and with shaky fingers, he read the message.

i just got home can you believe that i drank three cups of wine and didnt get tipsy??????? thats on being a raging alcoholic ;D

Kirishima wanted to laugh; on god, he would’ve found this beyond delightful to read because he knew you couldn’t handle your liquor, but that bitter stream of acid destroyed the humor in his thoughts.

Were you really telling the truth? Was this all a lie?

He didn’t text back; instead, his finger pressed the call button, and he held his breath.

“Helloooo?” a voice picked up on the second ring, but it wasn’t your voice. It was a voice he didn’t recognize at all.

‘Voice actors,’ Bakugou’s voice reentered his thoughts, and the phone in his hand nearly dropped.

“Sorry, hello?” the voice he knew as you finally came through, and Kirishima let out a shallow breath, one so small, so mediocrely weak it burned his lungs.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly, maybe too softly because you asked with a strained laugh for him to repeat his words. “Do you trust me, y/n?”

There was a pause on your end, too long a beat for Kirishima to be comfortable with.

“Of course I trust you, Ei, are you okay?”

“Do you actually trust me, or are you lying?”

“Woah there,” you said a small laugh on your tongue, but there was only confusion in it, not your contagious sound. “Did you drink? It’s a work night, you never do that!”

“Answer the question,” Kirishima spoke with finality, his shoulders tense, tears pushing past his eyes while he struggled to maintain composure.

Prove Bakugou wrong, please, prove Bakugou wrong.

“Of course I do,” you spoke with genuine clarity, but still, Kirishima was rattled, his confidence blown. “What’s going on?”

Did he want to confess to his insecurities? Was it worth it? His breathing became frantic, almost as if he was going insane just thinking about where his thoughts were. But Kirishima was never good at hiding things, no he was as open as a book.

“Why won’t you let me see you… we’ve been friends for six months, and the only thing I know about you is your eye color and your hair color. It’s so insanely generic that I can’t… I can’t do this.”

“What are you trying to say?” you ask, your voice small, almost a whisper of all the energy one could have at this time of night.

“I can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t trust me, who’s using me,” he spoke with perfect clarity that hid away his insecurities about this all. “For all, I know nothing about you is real, that this is all just some ploy to hurt me in the end. Six months and you can’t trust me with a single meet up or even a picture? I just… has this been a game for you, y/n? Or is that even your name.”

The call ended and a single message held on his screen, this call has been dropped, but you didn’t seem to want to call him back.

Kirishima didn’t sleep a wink that night, his words coming back to bite him in the throat each and every time he thought he was close enough to sleep. Insecurities riled up in him, consuming him entirely.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

He tried to call back.

For fourteen straight days, Kirishima attempted to call you back.

Every time he called you, he would always hang up before he could take back his words. But each call, after he had prematurely hung up, he would recant his mean words to the unresponsive phone. He did trust you, he was weak, he was unmanly to assume those things. You could take, however long it took to finally trust him again because he would wait for you no matter what. He apologized again and again until the very last one he broke down into silent tears, a single message of ‘I hope one day you’ll forgive me’ hung weakly on his voice and put his phone away. 

It was sixteen days since he had spoken those cruel words to you, and in that time, he didn’t regret finally talking about his ill feelings towards wanting to reveal yourself to him. But he did regret the way it came out; instead of it being a deep and personal conversation, it came out as bitter and one-sided. The two of you were disconnected, and he felt empty.

But he couldn’t focus on it, not today, after all, it was Bakugou’s birthday, and everyone was gathering at the local fancy restaurant to celebrate. 

Kirishima dressed up presentable, wearing a navy blue button-up, and dark slacks. He walked towards the entrance of the restaurant where Kaminari, Sero, and Midoriya were eagerly leading the group of them into the building. Typically Kirishima would’ve been with them in terms of spirit, but he felt energyless at the moment.

With the moon high in the sky, Kirishima stilled when Bakugou called out his name.

He stared at his best friend, the ash blond’s lip curled into a sneer while he huffed, “Listen, Kirishima, I’m sorry for what I said that night.”

“What? Oh, no, it’s okay, Bakugou!” Kirishima laughed, his hand slapping to the back of his neck. “You weren’t wrong.”

“I never said I was wrong,” Bakugou grunted, his eyes locked on Kirishima’s while he shoved his hands into his pockets. Kirishima stilled, unsure as to where this would be leading. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I know that Mina hurt you badly, and you’re too big of an idiot to not see when things arise. Maybe y/n is genuine, but if you aren’t fucking honest with her about your own feelings about how she’s so secretive, it’s not going to work.”

Kirishima smiled softly, a weak shrug moving through him, “I know, thanks, man.”

Bakugou nodded, and without a word, he continued on ahead where Midoriya was yelling at them to hurry up and come so they could be seated. 

Kirishima sighed, rolling out his shoulders before following afterward.

Kirishima followed after the hostess, smiling at her gratefully when she sat the group into their own private room and left. 

“Bakugou’s paying, right?” Kaminari stage whispered to Midoriya while staring at the prices on the menu.

“Eat shit, dunce face, learn how to save up your fucking money the next time you offer to come to this fucking place!” Bakugou roared, hearing the whisper.

“I’ll be covering the bill,” Todoroki informed with a smirk on his face. Kirishima laughed, looking at the prices and indeed agreeing with Kaminari’s statement. Having a wealthy friend was very convenient at times like this.

“Hi, welcome to Eiko, I’ll be your waitress today!” a voice chirped from the entrance of the room, and Kirishima froze, he recognized that voice and face.

It was the person he had mistaken for you all those months ago.

By the smile on your face, it seemed that you recognized them all too.

“And what is your name,” Sero winked, his eyes captivated by you.

“Oh, haha, sorry, my name is y/n,” you smiled, moving the menus you held in your hand to show the silver nametag on your uniform.

“Oh, like Kirishima’s y/n,” Kaminari laughed, pointing a finger at Kirishima, not at all being as quiet as he probably thought himself to be. But it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who thought that because while Kirishima was staring at your face, embarrassingly taking you in, you followed Kaminari’s finger.

Your sight sat on the redhead in the middle whose name was Kirishima, and you straightened up in what felt like panic. 

“You’re Kirishima?” you asked quietly, your finger grasping the menus so tightly, your knuckles turned white. “Kirishima Eijirou.”

“The one and only,” Kaminari voiced for him, his arm thrown over Kirishima’s shoulder while he nodded like a scholar. “And why do you ask?”

“Shut the fuck up, dunce face.” Bakugou hissed.

Kirishima continued to stare at you, a million words running through his head, yet not a single one being translated on his tongue. You were beautiful.

What should he say?

What could he say?

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head, a smile of disbelief spreading across your face, “Unbelievable.”

“Y/n—”

“Be quiet,” you snap, your tone angry, but your eyes beyond hurt. “What can I get you guys to drink?”

Dinner wasn’t exactly a pleasant time, you came in and left faster than anyone could blink, and yet none of their drinks went empty, nor did they really have a problem. Much quicker than Kirishima would’ve liked, they were done and were soon piling out of the restaurant after Kirishima decided to leave a very, very generous tip.

“I’m going to stay until I can speak to y/n,” Kirishima said, waving off his friends who were expecting him to follow. But he couldn’t, not when he felt like the world's biggest ass for what he did to you.

“Good luck,” they all wished him well before eventually leaving, knowing better than to stick around.

So there at the outside bench, Kirishima waited.

Two hours he sat there until you emerged from the front door, your hair was no longer put back, you held your apron in your hand, and your purse on your shoulder.

“Y/n!” he called out, his feet no longer cemented into place; he strode after you.

You didn’t seem to pick up the pace, nor did you slow down. You were focused on your car that sat at the edge of the parking lot, and you ignored his calls.

It wasn’t until his hand touched your shoulder, and he appeared before you did Kirishima freeze again. Angry hot tears slid down your face, your face screwed up, your shoulders stiff.

“What do you want, Kirishima?” you spat, but there was only exhaustion in your voice, nothing bitter, nothing at all what Kirishima deserved from you.

“I want to apologize,” Kirishima whispered, his hands struggling to reach out and wipe your tears away. You were crying because of him, he did this to you. “I was a dick, I was… beyond unmanly to you, and I’m so sorry! I just let Bakugou get into my head, and I’ve never been a secure person because, well, I’m just… fuck, I don’t even know, but all I know is that you didn’t deserve this. And I like you so much, but I didn’t — I don’t know what to do?!”

Your eyes stared up at him, they were bright with tears, wounded beyond anything Kirishima could hope to fix.

“That night, you said if I didn’t trust you, but I did trust you! I’ve always trusted you—” your finger jabbed his chest— “but it was you who didn’t trust me! I get that it’s hard to not have a picture of someone you care about after a long length of time, but we were always fine for a while! It was going to happen, but while I trusted you, I didn’t trust myself, okay?! I couldn’t trust myself to see that if you were so much more handsome than me that I couldn’t be confident enough to let myself be friends with you! I constantly fuck up relationships when I have crushes on people because… I don’t know, I just do! But you were someone with no risk and the highest risk, and I wanted to be sure in my own feelings before giving you a picture of me! But… fuck, Kirishima, you didn’t trust me!”

Kirishima’s throat tightened, the tears on your face a guilty reminder that this was because of him. But how could he fix this?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hands grabbing onto your arms just above the elbow, and his head hung by your forehead, not quite touching you, but just enough that his spiked hair teased the atoms between you. You were taller than he expected, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with, no, not at all. “You’re right, I didn’t trust you, and you didn’t deserve that. I don’t think there’s anything that I can say, or do for that matter, to change your mind, and I’m sorry. I just panicked because who gets into this type of situation, how do I tell my phone friend that I have feelings for her? I was weak, and I am so fucking pathetic, and I just want to make things better. If you’ll let me be your friend again…”

He slowly looked back up at you, and you were frozen in your place, tears falling down your face still.

“I don’t think we can be friends,” you confessed, and Kirishima’s heart broke in two, his hands dropping from your arms in his embarrassment and humiliation.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry still, um… maybe I’ll see you again?” Kirishima smiled despite it all, he kept smiling despite the crack in his chest and his soul.

“You will,” you murmured, and before Kirishima could blink, your fists wrapped in his collar, and you brought him down for an ardent kiss that he was not quick to respond to. It took three seconds for him to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in, kissing you again and again and again.

It didn’t seem to matter to either one of you that you were both now kissing without a care in the world in the middle of a parking lot, because you both had your emotions exposed to the other, and you didn’t want to be friends. At least not when the man who held your heart confessed that you held his in yours. 

The two of you weren’t truly disconnected, it was just a little lost moment in your call.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader

[intangiblyyourswrites]

Day 6: Insomnia

Shoutout to my 90s kids who used to use AOL Instant Messenger. 😂

Universe: Modern AU Rating: G Pairing: you know, one of these will eventually not have a pairing but today is not that day. Zelink.

— — — — —

hero_of_the_wild signed on at 1:25:54 AM. xSilentPrincessx signed on at 2:07:32 AM. hero_of_the_wild: can’t sleep? xSilentPrincessx: Nah. What else is new? hero_of_the_wild: same hero_of_the_wild: i can fall asleep on my calc textbook midday but not on my bed at 2AM apparently hero_of_the_wild: it sucks xSilentPrincessx: haha yeah. I finished my 12 page paper at 10 and have been lying in bed since. hero_of_the_wild: yikes. your one of those valedictorian gung hoers aren’t ya? xSilentPrincessx: You’re* xSilentPrincessx: I make good grades. So what? xSilentPrincessx: It’s not without effort. hero_of_the_wild: theres nothing wrong with that! theres a girl in my class like you. I dont know how she does it. hero_of_the_wild: its mindboggling. kinda cool xSilentPrincessx: Cool? That’s new. Not sure that’s what I would call it. hero_of_the_wild: well im calling it cool. so your cool. hero_of_the_wild: You’re* xSilentPrincessx: You’re learning! I appreciate it. hero_of_the_wild: i appreciate you hero_of_the_wild: i mean hero_of_the_wild: im glad theres someone else around to talk to xSilentPrincessx: Yeah. Same. xSilentPrincessx is typing… xSilentPrincessx: I wish we went to the same school. It would be nice. There aren’t...many people I can talk to so casually. xSilentPrincessx: So yeah. Thank you to you too. hero_of_the_wild: eh. it might be better this way. you might not like me in person. xSilentPrincessx: That’s impossible! You’ve been such a good friend. I would love to meet you. xSilentPrincessx: You know. Someday. hero_of_the_wild is typing… hero_of_the_wild: yea. one day. hero_of_the_wild: it is getting late. you should get some sleep. a princess needs her beauty sleep right? lol xSilentPrincessx: Shut up. xSilentPrincessx: This princess doesn’t know what sleep is. hero_of_the_wild: youre still pretty hero_of_the_wild: im sure hero_of_the_wild: gn hero_of_the_wild signed off at 2:43:25 AM.

Link closed the application and breathed a sigh of relief. He almost slipped up there, for a moment. If there was one thing he didn’t want, it was for xSilentPrincessx to know who he was. She might never speak to him again. 

After all, he considered it himself, when he found out.

Tucking himself under the covers, he prayed he could squeeze in some sleep before the alarm went off.

Link rubbed his eyes as he trudged through the hallway the next morning. He managed a little over three hours before he had to get up and catch the bus. Having chosen Hyrule’s only art school to finish his secondary education, the routes were long and quiet as kids caught an extra hour of sleep before the bus pulled into the parking lot.

Just as he turned the corner, his shoulder collided into another’s. Long, blonde hair fluttered in his vision before he instinctively reached out to steady her by the elbow.

And then immediately let go.

Princess Zelda Bosphoramous Hyrule stumbled slightly before regaining her bearings, then straightened her stack of books and papers before flashing him a small smile. Her collared dress swayed slightly at her knees, light and springy in a way she never allowed herself to be.

“Thank you…”—her brows furrowed prettily—“Link? Am I right?”

He gave a minute nod.

“Yes, well. I’ll see you in calc then?”

Managing to find his voice this time, he stuttered, “Yes, Princess Zelda.”

“Zelda is fine,” she said politely, though something bit at the edge. 

He waited until she was down the hall before pulling out his slate and selecting his chat with xSilentPrincessx. His message to her was short.

i hope your day goes well

Distantly, there was a familiar chime. Unable to resist, he lounged against the wall, watching from the corner of his eye as Princess Zelda paused to retrieve her slate from her bag. She balanced it and her books with a refined grace, neither hesitating nor fumbling in ways anyone else surely would have. Fingers flew across the screen to unlock it, and another smile, one more genuine and soft, stretched across her lips. His heart leapt into his throat.

She typed a message, then shoved the slate back in her bag, expression schooled to her usual stoicism before she continued down the hall. All along the way, the other students stopped to stare, but none spoke to her. Three months since her transfer here and she was still a novelty to them.

He sighed, shaking his head. In his hands, the slate vibrated and brightened with a notification: 1 New Message.

He opened it with a swipe of his thumb.

Thanks! Goddess knows I need it. I’m already running into people all over the place! Ready for the day to be over.

His grip tightened on the device and he gnawed at his lower lip. If only he could talk to her in person like he could through the anonymity of his screen name. But he was just another student in this small school, and Princess Zelda would never willingly speak to him without cause. The only reason she knew his name was because they shared several classes together.

Taking a breath, he kept his response simple.

same

Almost instantly, she replied: Talk to you during lunch?

Yes, he began to type out, then deleted. Of course, he tried, but for some reason, it didn’t fit. Always, he finalized, and if she ended up thinking him charmed by her, she wouldn’t be wrong.

#intangiblymine #febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday6 #zelink fanfiction #thowback #choosing where to put the break was hard #and weird #like putting it in the middle of the chat would make the spacing weird #but honestly it looks ugly this long on the blog #oh well #OH WELL has been my go to phrase this month

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

ok so i have a hc (two technically) that would explain rodney's hatred of doof (and doof's dislike of monogram): Heinz and Rodney dated in highschool after being best childhood friends, but they broke it off before the graduated and have hated eachother ever since. similarly, doof and monogram dated in college, neither knwoing about the other's job, so when monogram found out he was dating a villain and visa versa, he broke it off completely. just wanted to tell someone this, sorry to bother you

YESSSS MONOGRAM X HEINZ IS MY SHIT 

okay now that i’ve gotten that out of the way, here’s an actual semi-coherent response (but not before I tell you that you are not bothering me at all and I live for other people’s headcanons and just general thoughts on the show and I was super excited to see this ask)

it occurred to me midway through the next paragraph that this is all dependent on when Heinz started evil science, and that I can’t really finish writing this without an idea of when that might have happened, so I’m gonna kinda think “out loud” for a second. Absolutely nothing in this paragraph is important if y’all wanna skip it, but I figured I’d throw my thoughts out there anyway because, like, that’s what I do lol. We know he’s been building inators since he was a kid, but that at least his first inator wasn’t evil. We know he wasn’t serious about becoming the ruler of anything during his date with Linda, whenever that happened. We know he’s tried other things, from painting to poetry, before deciding on evil. We know he bought a $15 degree in evil science online, but that he did go to school for it because he had that one professor whose name I can never spell and that I’m too lazy to google. Was he interested in evil when he was in high school? Was Rodney interested in evil in high school? Part of me hopes they weren’t, just because I think it would be hilarious if they dated in high school as average people and then “reconnected” years later through evil science when it wasn’t even an interest they shared when they were together. I’m also interested in the logistics of their childhood friendship, because I absolutely love the idea of young Heinz having at least one person who likes him and understands him and who’s interested in building just like he is, and I have to imagine they both would have been ostracized for their love of building and inventing because Drusselstein is notorious for hating change and inventing is change. But how does that friendship transfer between countries? I can kinda see Rodney also being from Drusselstein, though I almost feel like he would have had to leave when he was younger than 16 because a) if he has an accent (which tbh I can’t tell with that voice lmao), it’s not as pronounced and b) he seems more cultured than Heinz in a way? Like I can’t really think of an example, but he just gives me the vibes of someone who’s been in America since he was younger -- even, like, 13 or 14, which could actually fit with the timeline if Rodney’s a year or two younger than him: Rodney left first, and Heinz was tricked by his family into following him a year or so later. They reconnect in high school and get together then. Idk, I feel like there’s a lot to think about there and I’m definitely gonna give it more thought because this is a really interesting concept. Anyways, side rant over and we’re back to where I was before I got sidetracked and put the side rant on top.

I’m not gonna lie: the idea of Heinz and Rodney dating has never occurred to me before, but now that you’ve said it I am living for it. I mean, there is absolutely no way they started hating each other so passionately without some sort of behind-the-scenes drama, and a lifelong friendship-turned-relationship gone sour would explain so much. I mean, this isn’t just your average breakup. It’s not even your average bad breakup. This sounds more like someone you thought would be a lifelong friend stabbing you in the back, and of course they would never let that go. I do find myself wondering what went wrong, though. They definitely treat each other like they think the other one wronged them, so whatever it was had to be a mutual thing. I’m open to hearing theories if anyone’s got any 👀

I love the idea of Monogram and Heinz dating in college. There’s definitely something going on with them, because I definitely can’t see Monogram paying attention to any other evil scientist as much as he does Heinz. I mean, he assigned his best agent to the guy and everything. I don’t know if Monogram actually went to college (?) because he did that stint at The Academy™ but I can lowkey see Monogram going to The Academy™ and Heinz going to Evil Science School™ and they meet somewhere (maybe The Academy™ sends their recruits to the local college for their pre-reqs and they met during calc class or something idk) and hit it off. I have absolutely no doubt that they would hit it off, either; that scene in Perry the Actorpus where they have a friendly conversation until Heinz accidentally starts saying something stupid comes to mind. They’re both very different kinds of stupid, but they’d complement each other. And now that I think about it, I kinda do hope they met while Monogram was at The Academy™ just because I think the absolute best kind of reveal that Heinz is evil would be him showing up in some capacity at The Academy™ (maybe the evil science majors take a group “field trip” to The Academy™ every year so both the evil science majors and The Academy™ recruits can learn about their natural enemies) and Heinz and Monogram just see each other and they’re like 0_0 Heinz would absolutely be willing to try to work around this (I mean, just look at how he treats Perry. The line between good and evil is very distinct, but he’s more than willing to ignore it) but Monogram would end things immediately, and that would break Heinz’s heart piss Heinz off so much that he would absolutely hold a grudge against Monogram for the rest of eternity, and Monogram would have a special focus on Heinz, too, just because of their history.

tl;dr I am in love with these headcanons and would absolutely be down for hearing more about them if you (or anyone else) has anything to add

#it's 4:00 am and i just spent 45 minutes on this ask for no reason other than i could lol #i should probably go to bed #look i have an ask #pnf #heinz doofenshmirtz #major monogram #rodney #Aloyse Everheart Elizabeth Otto Wolfgang Hypatia Gunther Galen Gary Cooper von Roddenstein #shoutout to tumblr for remembering that whole tag after seeing me type ''aloy'' lmao

[pixelsandkink]

Carrying On (Thomas Hunt x MC) (8/?)

Pairing: Thomas Hunt x MC (Lexi) Rating: T. There’s no sexual content, but there’s other mature content.  Word Count: ~3050 Summary: New rules. 

Notes: I think I promised Friday, but this is likely going up on Saturday, so my b. Also, I lied, I think we’ll have two more parts before we can call this thing done lol.  ___________________________________

The world carried on. 

That was the weirdest part. Lexi felt like she’d been ripped right down the middle, but the sun still rose and set. 

He’d kept true to his word. He treated her with nothing more and nothing less than courtesy on set those final few days. She left with him one torn half of the napkin. The rules of their relationship that was no more. She’d felt dramatic, wedging it under his door, but had also felt...right and fair. 

And then she went home. 

And a day passed. Two days passed. A week. A month. 

It had gone so fast in a spiral of booze and parties and passing out at dawn, only to wake and do it all again. But the bottom of that tornado was never a fun place to be. 

“This is…exactly as pathetic as I thought.” 

Lexi groaned. A trip to the bathroom had told her what she looked like. Her hair had been stick straight the night before, but was now haphazard, since she’d passed out without a scarf or bonnet. The real miracle had been in changing into a clean pair of leggings and a tank top. She still had makeup smeared around her eyes and lipstick on her mouth. 

The headache raging in her skull and the nausea rolling in her stomach were just a great big old bonus. Chazz, who was on her approved list of people, found her slumped against the counter on her kitchen floor, delivery between her knees and a Gatorade up to her lips. 

“Please go away. Why are you even here?”

Chazz, naturally, was wearing a suit and looked incredible. Not at all like the previous night had shat on him. 

“I may have gotten a text about your shenanigans.” 

Lexi looked at him through one squinted eye. “From who?” 

“The one and only.” He held out his phone. 

“Victoria texted you?”

“The one and only Tor-Tor Fontaine.” 

Lexi snorted. “She’ll kill you if she hears you say that.”

Chazz spared a moment to look frightened. “Is she still here?”

“She was here?”

“Oof,” Chazz said. “So you have no idea how you got home last night.” 

Lexi didn’t have to say anything. It was true. She had no idea how she’d gotten home last night, or the night before. The night before that she knew there’d been a cab, and Matt had put her in it, but she hadn’t had the courage to call him yet. She didn’t want to know if she’d come on to him or if they’d slept together or if she’d cried in front of him. She wasn’t ready yet. 

“So,” Chazz said, sliding down against the counter so he was opposite her, “he really did a number on you, huh?”

Lexi let the back of her head hit the cabinet, regretted it. “They usually do.”  

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chazz asked.

“So you could tell me it was a bad idea?” 

Chazz gave her a quick grin. “Well, I have been able to predict all your worst ideas.” He lifted a hand to begin ticking them off. 

“Ugh, don’t--” 

“Mr. Hennegan--”

“It’s weird when you say it like that. His name is Brian.” 

“No,” Chazz interjected. “You called him Brian because he preyed on you and you slept with him. He was Mr. Hennegan to the rest of us. Anyway, Mr. Hennegan. Oh, the purple hair. That time you went to Sarah Michaels’ party instead of studying for your calc final. Cheating on your calc final.   Then when you moved to New York instead of coming here with me. I mean, yeah, I was eating half a pack of ramen a day, but still. ” 

Lexi closed her eyes. “I was living in New York as a college freshman. I was also eating half a pack of ramen a day. And besides. If I was here, I never would have fucked my American Lit professor.”

“I think you’re just making my case for me,” Chazz said. “We were supposed to come out here and do LA together.” 

Lexi laughed softly. “I made it, eventually. I mean, there was no way I was staying in fucking Iowa.” 

“Yeah,” Chazz said ruefully, “who’d have imagined, the black girl and the gay kid making a break for it as soon as we moved our tassels.”

They both laughed then. Chazz nudged her barefoot with his impeccably polished shoe. 

“You have to go back, you know.”

Lexi’s eyes flew open. “To Iowa?”

“To therapy.” 

She winced. “Jesus, Chazz.” 

“You know I’m right. “

Lexi sighed. She did. Hunt had...broken something inside her. Brian had broken something inside her. The life she’d led had broken something inside her. Unfortunately, she was the only one who could fix it. 

“I miss him,” she whispered, and closed her eyes again, against the hot promise of tears. 

Chazz made a small tutting sound. “You know I’ve always got your back,” Chazz said seriously, and touched her foot again. “So what are we talking here? Like, are you going to miss the good dick or like you just lost the love of your life?”

“It feels like both.” 

Chazz nodded seriously. “Well then. More food. Then the therapist. Then wine.” 

Lexi nodded. She liked the sound of that. 

_______________________________

A week later, the announcement came. 

Esteemed director, Thomas Hunt was retiring from directing. The world reacted as she expected: artsy people reposting shots from his movies with no caption. People debating as to whether this was a stunt or a ploy, or a faux-retirement borne of middle-aged frustration. 

She wished she could have been there to see his wry expression when people sent him flowers as though he was dead. 

Ryan called. In case Lexi wasn’t picking it up, the nature of the announcement had rendered any press virtually needless. The fact that it was Thomas Hunt’s last film was all the press the movie was going to need. 

“I don’t need his apologies,” she said wearily. She was so tired. Therapy was kicking her ass. It was all about finding a balance, finding what worked for her. But in the meantime that meant yoga, and meditation and worksheets and new cardio classes and not drinking and not hopping on the nearest dick for 45 seconds worth of relief. Her therapist told her there was no extra credit for trying so many different things at once so that was a whole other thing. 

Ryan made a noise, like a sound that was almost a sigh but also an inhale. “He didn’t ask me to call you.” 

“Good for him.” 

“Look, I’ve known him for a long time, and he’s not the kind of guy who just leaves...devastation in his wake so…”

“Do you feel bad for him, or for me?” 

“Both?” 

Lexi hung up. 

________________________

More announcements came.

She wasn’t watching for news stories about him, but it was unavoidable, especially when people kept asking and she had to pretend they’d had nothing more than a friendly working relationship. 

So when two months later,  the headline, “Thomas Hunt to teach at UCLA,” came across her phone she had to pause and read. 

And when four months after that she read, “Thomas Hunt’s scholarship initiative to create a pipeline for underrepresented filmmakers,” she read that one too. 

But she stopped talking about him. To her friends. Even a little less in therapy. He wasn’t the fuel behind her legs during her cycling class. He was there, always there, but there were other things. 

It was almost worse, though, because if she wasn’t talking about him, she had to talk about something else. She had to talk about Brian. And her father. And her mother. And the thing that had sent her running from Iowa. 

That was much harder than talking about a man she was still half in love with. She could riff on that for thirty minutes and call it a comedy special. There was nothing funny about scaling back her drinking and her caffeine intake and again, being very careful not to fuck her trainer. 

But that got easier too. It got easier to figure out why she kept men who were bad for her and why she ran and why she craved spotlight and attention and parties and how to keep the best part of all of those things and untangle the worst of it from the work she loved to do. 

Which, she was getting tons of, since she’d starred in an Oscar-winning film. 

When Something Beautiful was announced as the winner for Best Picture, Best Director and Best Screenplay, no one was shocked. It was a good movie, a great one even,  but it was almost perfunctory, like a nod to the end of Hunt’s career, more than the movie itself. 

More funeral flowers for a man who was very much alive. 

Davina accepted the awards on his behalf, which was and wasn’t some surprise. It hadn’t taken long for anyone to draw the parallels between this film and what she and Hunt had once been. When Davina kissed her cheeks that night, she’d felt real, warm love. 

And when she and Ryan posed together that night, twitter kept her abreast of the rumors about them, and they got worse when the paparazzi caught him driving her home the morning after, both of them in black joggers that belonged to him, looking bedraggled. 

The truth of the matter was that he’d just thrown the most incredible rager she’d ever been to, and he’d also been responsible for holding her to “two drinks and no weed,” which was probably for the best, even though she was now an Oscar nominee herself. 

She’d said “its just an honor to be nominated,” and she’d meant it. Which was why, even though she looked like a cat had coughed her up, and the green juice she was drinking tasted like something a cat had coughed up, she was still riding the high of a truly great night. 

She stood in the middle of her kitchen and thought back to where Chazz had found her a year and a half earlier and how far she’d come from that sad girl, even if she still had raccoon eyes and messy hair. 

That’s when her phone buzzed. 

A text. 

A text from Thomas Hunt. 

Can I come up? Your doorman is still a big fan of my work, but I don’t want to rely on subterfuge. 

She stared. He was here. He wanted to come up. He wanted to talk to her, look at her. Who did he think he was? Should she send him away? Freshen up? Was Ryan a weasel? God, how dare he. How dare either of them. Oh no. 

Thank God. 

But then, he was there. Of course, she heard the elevator that let him out directly into her living room. She’d known. But she’d been so caught, so stuck in the headlights of the oncoming car that was Thomas Hunt that she hadn’t thought for even a second to prepare for this eventuality. 

She turned. 

“I’m sorry. You didn’t say anything and I got...nervous and tired of waiting.” 

Lexi stared at him. He looked...good. That was annoying. He should have looked like shit. He should have looked like a slick of snot on the bottom of her shoe, but he looked good. He’d put on weight and muscle both. Not in an obnoxious way, but just like he’d maybe been eating well and been spending regular time in the gym. His hair was freshly cut and styled, and he wore jeans (shit) and a green henley (double shit) that he had no right to look so good in. 

She’d spent more time than she liked to admit thinking about his stubble, another one of those secret things he only ever let her see. She’d thought about how it burned her cheeks and the insides of her thighs. Now he’d let it blossom into a full-blown beard. It made him look more like himself somehow and she wanted to touch it with her fingertips. 

But moreover, he didn’t look tired. She was actually happy for him. Really she was. Even if he should have looked like shoe-snot. 

Hunt held up his hands in front of him like she was a nutcase with a gun. 

“I know, I shouldn’t be here.” She nodded, briefly. “And that I have no right.” She nodded again, and he sucked in a breath, gazing at her across the length of her entryway, a few feet that felt like a canyon. 

“There hasn’t been a day,” he went on. “A single day that I’ve spent without you at the front of mind. And I spent...hours. Trying to figure out how to win you back. But then, someone helped me realize that if I wanted a chance, even a fraction of a chance that I needed to figure out how to be better so that maybe you’d want me.” 

He was starting to talk faster, using his hands, which was a rarity in and of itself, let alone the way his words started to jam into one another inside his mouth.  “And so I’m here. Because I have to try. For me...you’re it. It’s you. It’s only you. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to be better for. To build a life with. It’s only you, Alexis. You’re the only one for me. Forever.” 

The words hung in the air, like that first fat raindrop before a deluge. 

Lexi’s throat was hoarse when she spoke. “That was a good speech.” 

“Thanks,” he said seriously. “I rehearsed it but I went off-script there at the end.”

“Okay, but what do you want?” She didn’t say it meanly. She knew him. She knew there was a “but.” A something else. 

He blinked. “You mean, besides everything I just said? Besides a second chance to make a life with you?”

Lexi swallowed. “Yeah, besides that.” 

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Give me three dates. And there are...conditions.”  He reached into his pocket, and pulled out, of all things, a napkin. It was cheap and off-white and perfect. Triple shit. 

She kept her face perfectly blank. “A napkin:” 

“For nostalgia’s sake.” 

He handed her the napkin and it was like she came awake in the microsecond their fingers brushed. It hurt to spend 18 months healing and realize that he still made her feel like she’d been sleeping her way through it. 

He started talking and she folded the paper in her hand because she couldn’t look yet, she couldn’t try again yet. 

 “Give me three dates. If you still don’t want to give this thing a real try after that, I promise. I’ll never darken your doorstep again, so to speak. And, I’ll plan all the dates. They all remain surprises.”

“What if I want to decide what to wear?”

Something interesting and dangerous flashed in his eyes, like maybe that wasn’t what he expected her to say. “Either I’ll give you a hint or have it sent to you.” 

Lexi tamped down a smile, which was easy because she also wanted to cry. She did like presents. “Can we make that a rule amendment?” 

He nodded solemnly. “We can.” Then he went on, clearing his throat. “So. Three mystery dates. No sex. We have a check-in after every date. No...emotions building up. No sex--” 

“You said that already.” 

“I have to remind myself,” he said and looked so sorry and serious she almost laughed, and then did when she realized he was joking with her. “So, there’s another and that one requires your input.”

“Let’s hear it.” 

Hunt folded his hands in front of him thoughtfully. “Frankly, I would love to tell the world that Alexis Williams is letting me take her on one date, let alone three. But that’s up to you. We can keep it a secret, we can” --and he paused, obviously trying to control the burgeoning scowl-- “announce it on social media. Whatever you want.” 

Lexi paused and chewed on the inside of her mouth. “Can I be honest?”

Again, that little smile at the corner of his mouth. “You have to. It’s one of the rules, which you’d know, if you looked at them.” 

Lexi unfolded the paper and read down the list. 

Alexis and Thomas will have three dates.

Thomas will plan all of the dates.

Alexis will decide who should know.

Either party can walk away when they see fit.

After each date (and at any time, Alexis) both parties will have the opportunity to talk openly.

Honesty is paramount.

At the end of the three dates, Thomas is going to ask Alexis to marry him.

Alexis is going to say yes. 

Lexi wasn’t sure how she both laughed and scowled at once, but she managed it. 

“Thomas, cross that last one off.” 

He shrugged. “Okay. I suppose that it is technically unenforceable.” 

She was smiling but sobered as she looked at him. “This is really...cute. Sweet, even. Crazy as hell, but sweet. But, why dates?”

Hunt’s smile was one of false brilliance like he was fighting a battle he knew he was losing. “Because it’s the only thing we haven’t done yet. I fell in love with you in bed and at work, but we haven’t done this yet. We haven’t dated. And you deserve that.” 

Lexi crossed her arms. “There’s a good chance that no matter what, no matter how this goes, that I can’t love you again. You really hurt me.” The words choked coming out, but they came. 

Hunt paused and rubbed a knuckled over his bottom lip. “I know. I’m not a fool. I just want a chance, if you’ll give it to me. I plan to prove to you that I can be the man who is good for you. Good to you.”

Lexi looked at him, and she wanted this badly. But she wouldn’t see herself hurt in this.  

“I’ll leave the second this doesn’t feel okay,” she threatened. 

Hunt’s smile turned real with relief. “Agreed.” 

Lexi put her hands on her hips. “So when does this little thing start?”

That smile spread. “Now.”  ________________________ tagging:  @slowthesea @writinghereandthere @mfackenthal @katurrade @hhiggs @awkwardambition @indiacater @zodiacsign1 @alleksa16 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @lilyofchoices @kuladekiwi

#thomas hunt #hunt x mc #red carpet diaries #RCD #long post

[tonystarkissist]

IronDad Bingo Fic #5

Trope: Jealousy

This was requested by an anon. Thank you for the request love!! XOXO

And... also. This was mostly written in a sleep-muddled haze, slightly highlighted by a sudden intense motivation to remove all forms of stress from my life in an attempt to finally get a restful sleep... which meant finishing this one... long... piece of craziness which to me makes kinda no sense right now. So, yeah. I hope it doesn’t suck to bad lol. If it does... oh well. I’ll embrace it.

“Hey, Pete. You know about Harley, right?” Tony spun around fancily in his chair to fix the teen in question with a contemplative raise of his brows. Peter turned away from his project momentarily to cast a glance at his mentor in response.

“Uh, that kid from Tennessee you’ve been collaborating with for, like, the past month?”

Peter hated that kid…

“That’s the one,” Tony grinned brightly. He spun in his chair again, turning back to the work he had abandoned. “He’s wanting to come down for a couple weeks to help me out on a new suit. He’s had a few promising ideas. I want you to meet him.”

Peter blinked dumbly at the admittance from the man. Mr. Stark wanted him to meet his sworn enemy? Of course, Mr. Stark didn’t know about his silent, one-sided rivalry he held with the boy he’d never even met, but… still! He’d been fighting desperately for even the tiniest amount of Tony’s attention while he’d been rather preoccupied talking to this Harley kid about their project. Who knows how far he’d have to go if the other teen actually came for a visit? Gosh, Peter could see it now… 

“Yeah, sure. When’s he coming?” Peter shrugged, hoping Mr. Stark wouldn’t catch on to the mild irritation lacing his tone.

“He’s coming next week. I thought-”

“Spring break week?!” Peter cried out, spinning in his chair to settle his mentor with a wide-eyed glare to match his flabbergasted outburst. 

“Well… yeah. I thought it’d be perfect for you two-”

“But that was the week I was staying here with you and we were going to do cool stuff together!” 

Gosh! He sounded like such a whiny baby.

Peter didn’t even know how the situation was able to make itself worse, but it had. He couldn’t believe that this prick had the audacity to waltz back into Tony’s life after who knew how many years and demand attention from him. It almost took a whole year for Mr. Stark to stop addressing him as if he were an immature, irresponsible child and invite him over to see his lab. A whole year! From the stories Peter has heard about this ‘Harley’ kid, they had barely even known each other a couple days back then! 

Gosh! And now his obnoxious rival was eating up all the attention like candy… and Tony notoriously had a limited attention span when it came to things without mechanical parts or red hair accompanied by clickity-clackity heels.

“Now Pete,” Tony lamented, summoning his practiced ‘Dad voice’. “I think this will be good for you. I’m sure you two will be good friends. And we can still do things with Harley here; he’s really smart too, you know.”

And, yes, Peter did, in fact, know that Harley was a genius too. How could he not? Tony practically told him and anyone that would listen every day. He can still remember when he was the one being bragged about by Tony Stark. Which *ahem* was before ‘Harley’ came prancing back into the genius’ life from a legit midst of nothingness.

“But c’mon,” Peter whined, “that’s like the only week I have off before school ends. And then I have to go on that summer trip… we were supposed to hang out…”

“I know Pete,” Tony sighed, almost sounding guilty, but not quite, “I know you were looking forward to it just being the two of us. Sometimes we all have to make sacrifices though kiddo. I thought that this would be a fun bonding experience for all of us. Harley’s a lot of fun.”

Peter sulked and slowly turned back to his own project while Tony continued trying to reason with him dejectedly.

“You need to get used to him eventually. He’s graduated high school and I plan on giving him a high-profile intern job with R&D. So, he’ll be around a lot.”

Intern? Intern?! Peter couldn’t believe it. He thought that reckless, brunette, genius, teen boys were just a dime in a dozen, but he supposed if anyone were to attract them it’d be Tony Stark. It was stupid of him to think that he was anything special to begin with…

***

“What’s got you all riled up this time ‘round Spider-baby?” Rhodey asked, plopping down next to him on the couch as he scribbled out numbers angrily onto his Calc homework. Tony had been too busy talking to Harley to help him out like he usually did. 

“Nothing,” he muttered, releasing a growl as he realized he’d done the whole equation wrong and immediately began running the eraser violently across the page. The thin sheet ripped dramatically, and it only fueled his anger. He seethed and struggled to not lash out as he started crumbling the paper into a tight ball.

“Ah, yes,” Rhodey chuckled slightly, “I forgot it was opposite day today.”

He probably thought he was sooo funny.

“It’s not. Everything’s fine.” Peter insisted, pulling out another loose sheet of paper from his binder.

“I can see that,” Rhodey mused as he watched Peter scribble the equation across the top line of the paper again.

They sat there in companionable silence as Peter tried and failed at solving the problem once again. Some genius he was. No wonder Mr. Stark preferred Harley.

“Where’s Tony?” Rhodey finally pipes up when he watches Peter fail another attempt, “Doesn’t he usually help you out with this stuff?”

“Yeah,” Peter huffed, sounding dejected. His scribbling paused and he stared down at the paper. “He’s busy though. Harley’s coming to visit and they’re sorting it all out.”

“I see,” Rhodey admits, nodding his head. “Well, I’m no genius like Tony, but I know my way around numbers. I didn’t go to MIT for nothing kid. Let me take a crack at it.”

Peter’s eyes light up momentarily at the offer of some much-needed help and he eagerly handed the paper over.

“We just started doing differentials, and my teacher didn’t tell us how to do all the weird e’s and natural logs.”

“Oh, that’s easy. Lookie here kiddie…”

***

Peter savored the last few moments he had with his mentor before Harley arrived. They were both waiting at the airport for him, because apparently Harley’s mother was extremely insistent that Tony didn’t just hand off the responsibility to one of his lackeys. Apparently, neither Harley nor his family had ever been outside of Tennessee, so both were somewhat nervous with the spontaneous vacation.

“I’m totally dreading having to do those assignments Mr. Stark,” Peter spieled, hoping to get in as much as he could before the genius’ attention was inevitably averted to the new teen intern arriving in the next few minutes. “It’s like I don’t already do enough homework during the school year. They just have to hand out packets of work that we haven't even covered yet.”

“I can see how that would be a problem,” Tony chuckled, “Maybe I can hel- Look there he is!” Tony points at a mass of bodies coming through the gate exits. Peter immediately spots a tall, lanky teen boy, and he gulps at the striking similarities between them. No wonder Tony liked Peter so much… he probably reminded the man of Harley. Tony and Harley go farther back than he and Peter did… no wonder.

“Hey kid,” Tony smiled, looking excited as the older boy hurried up to the waiting pair. 

“Hey old man. How’s it hanging? Long time no see.” Harley laughed and didn’t even hesitate to throw his arms around the man’s neck in a friendly hug, and to Peter’s utter and complete surprise… Tony hugged him too, with a friendly - not at all awkward - pat on the back to go with it!

“Stop calling me old you brat,” he teased, clapping him on the back and pulling away from the hug to get a fresh look at him. “Look at you kid. I remember when you were just an annoying little toddler of a child.”

“Yeah, well, what did you expect after 7 years?”

7 years?? He was practically the same age as Peter! And he was done with high school? Oh goodness, how was he supposed to top that?

“Whatever,” Tony muttered lightheartedly. “Let’s go get your bags. Oh!” He turned to look at Peter as if just remembering he was there, “and this is Peter. He’s a science nerd too.”

“Replaced me already Stark?” Harley feigned hurt.

“Sure did,” Tony quipped back.

Peter’s heart hurt at that; it stuttered obnoxiously against his chest. He knew it was just a joke. He knew. That didn’t make the blow any softer though.

It only seemed to get worse from there... 

Instead of throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders like he would usually do, Tony threw them around Harley’s instead, chatting animatedly to the young teen as they navigated their way through the throngs of people. At least Peter got a firm hand on the back of his neck to guide him so he didn’t get lost as if he were a small child. That was at least something, right?

Then, when they got to the car, Harley had immediately shouted shotgun, because he was a jerk like that. Tossing Peter a teasing look as he hopped into the front seat of the Audi. Tony just laughed as he stuffed luggage into the trunk and Peter sulked and grumbled under his breath as he climbed into the backseat, ready to endure through the excited chattering that was sure to emit from the front of the car.

When they got back to the Compound, Peter felt for a moment that things would get better, because Mr. Stark through an arm over his shoulders instead of Harley’s as they walked in… but things didn't get better. Tony told him to show Harley to the room he’d be staying in… which, conveniently, just so happened to be Peter’s room. The other guest rooms were full because the Rogues had come back along with a few added guests, and Mr. Stark for some reason thought it would be a good ‘bonding opportunity’ for them… yeah right. So, yeah, Peter would be sharing a room with his undeclared arch nemesis too. How great was that?!

Then, maybe an hour later when they headed down to Mr. Stark’s workshop, Tony and Harley were quick to get to work on their joint project while Peter went off to work with his lonesome self at his desk. It was just as Peter expected. They offered to involve Peter in the project of course, but… it just felt wrong somehow. 

And he longer he was down in the lab with nothing but his web shooters to distract his overeager mind, the longer he contemplated the angered feelings that had been accumulating in his gut since it’d been declared that Harley would be coming for an impromptu visit. The more he thought, the more the guilt began to replace the anger. And the more guilt he felt, the more he realized how much of a clingy, selfish child he’d been acting.

Mr. Stark wasn’t his Dad. Mr. Stark didn’t have to give him his sole attention at every hour of every day. Heck, the man didn’t have to give him any attention at all, but he did. So, therefore, Peter should be grateful for what he received and not what he had to share with others, and even what could possibly be taken from him entirely. It was never his to begin with… so he had no right to get upset.

Thoughts like this continued to plague his mind, and he became a bit… panicky. 

Harley had every right to come visit.... Apparently, according to the conversations he could overhear, Tony and Harley had kept in good contact through the years. Harley didn’t have a father either. The teen had every right to imprint on Tony just like Peter had done, because the man was great. He was caring and funny, and just a bit overbearing... the perfect father in Peter's mind. He shouldn’t get jealous and declare a silent war against someone when they were simply seeking for the same comfort and validation that had been and was still seeking. It wasn’t right. It was selfish.

Peter got to see Mr. Stark almost twice a week! Harley didn’t get any of that. He got a few phone calls and facetimes, but that was it!

Why was he such a selfish, ungrateful brat? Aunt May hadn’t raised an ungrateful brat.

Peter dropped his head in his hands and sighed, trying to find at least some way to validate his feelings so he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty. He couldn’t find anything.

See… Peter wouldn’t be feeling any of this if Harley just… if he hadn’t come at all. Still, that didn’t help to quench the deep-seated guilt pooling in his stomach. He didn’t know why something that made Mr. Stark smile was making him so mad. Wait! He did know! He was selfish! Oh yeah, how could he possibly forget?

***

So, in an attempt to compensate for the unreasonable hatred he had developed towards the teen, he made extra effort to not hate him… if that made any sense. 

It seemed to work too.

Since they shared a room it was fairly easy to get to know him, because apparently Harley enjoyed having nearly an hour conversation in the dark before falling asleep at night. Peter learned a lot about him during the first night, and it turned out to be pretty easy to like him. His personality was cool and amusing; a lot like Mr. Stark’s. 

Peter made an extra effort to be nice and happy the next day too. Things went about the same way, except towards the end of the night, they watched a quick movie before bed.

Then, on the second night, things got a little deeper… Harley asked about Peter’s parents and how he came to know Tony, and, well… Peter told him. Which led to Peter asking Harley a similar question, due to the specifics social edicate. Peter empathized with him instantly, especially when the teen shyly admitted his embarrassing dependence he’d acquired towards the genius after only a month of near constant contact, and how grateful he was for the time he was able to spend with him. That wasn’t something to ease the guilt in Peter’s stomach at all, but it definitely gave Peter a more mature view on the matter. He got a new friend out of it too.

The next day, though, Peter caught on to something rather unnerving. 

He had spent so much time worrying that Harley was going to steal time away from Mr. Stark that he hadn’t realized how much time he was actually stealing away from Harley. He hadn’t really noticed the fact that Mr. Stark was somewhat of a mother hen and took every available opportunity to check on him and make sure he was doing okay. He’d been blinded by his jealousy before, and perhaps a little peevish the past couple days after realizing that he was actually the one in the wrong, but yeah! Mr. Stark wouldn’t stop fussing over him every hour or so, even when he was in the midst of a detailed planning stage with Harley. Peter got a glimpse of the frustration that flickered across the other teen’s face when Mr. Stark paused in their ministrations to turn and address Peter, yet again… making sure he wasn’t thirsty or hungry for lunch even though it was barely noon, for perhaps the third time that morning.

That’s what made up Peter’s mind. He could relate to Harley way too easily, and he hated the idea of the dude not being able to get the most out of his once in forever visit with his undeclared father figure. He was a nice guy, and he’d been through a lot in life too… it wasn’t right for Peter to be a constant interruption to their rare bonding time. So, he dismissed himself from the lab, apologizing to Mr. Stark for his demise, and shooting a knowing look and a ‘you’re welcome’ wink to Harley, who just rolled his eyes in response.

Mr. Stark, of course, put up immediate protest.

“Oh, c’mon kiddo. Am I being pushy again? I won’t ask anymore, I swear it. You don’t gotta go, I know I promised you we’d spend this week off school together.”

Peter flinched inwardly. He didn’t know how he could have possibly thought Tony was replacing him. The man just cared too much sometimes. He had too much care to go around to ever run out of it. His attention span may be meager, but his affection never was.

“It’s cool Mr. Stark. I gotta get a head start on that homework anyway.”

“Alright,” Tony voiced warily, watching reluctantly as Peter gathered up his things and headed for the exit, “let me know if you need help on anything.”

“Sure thing Mr. Stark,” Peter smiled sadly. 

He was doing the right thing - he knew that. It was just hard… but at the same time so liberating to know he helped another fatherless kid get to know their wished-to-be father-figure.

***

“Hey, um, Colonel Rhodes?” Peter piped up hesitantly, approaching the man in the kitchen, clutching a thick pile of paper in his hands, “I’m reviewing for my AP exam, and these practice questions are ridiculously hard. Can you help me a little bit?”

Rhodey grinned and put down his mug of coffee to accept the thick packet offered to him. “Sure kiddo let’s get setup at the dining table. This is probably gonna take a while.”

***

“Hello?” Peter peeked into the hi-tech lab, looking much different from Mr. Stark’s, with the overall cleanliness, “Mr. Bruce, Dr. Banner, sir?”

“Oh, hello, Peter,” Bruce greeted warmly, snapping his head to the side to look at the teen. “What can I do for you today?” 

“Oh, um, well I got some homework… and Mr. Stark is kinda busy… and Mr. Rhodes doesn’t know a whole lot about Chemistry…” He trailed off a bit, a bit nervous having to ask the world-renowned scientist for help on his high school homework. “An-and there’s some Biology too… it’s just kinda hard, and I was hoping that you could just explain a couple things to me?”

“Of course!” Bruce chirped eagerly, pushing displays and rolly tables out of his way as he approached Peter, “let’s take a look.”

***

“Hey, kiddo, how’re things going?” Tony asked, venturing up from the workshop after his three-day binge with Harley. Heck, Peter thinks they might have even slept down there if they had slept at all. “Sorry that I sorta abandoned you up here, we were kinda in the zone down there, weren’t we Harley?” Tony turned to the grease-stained teen beside him for confirmation. The boy nodded, laughing slightly before heading in the direction of the kitchen to retrieve some water. 

Peter smiled… his jealousy had significantly dissipated over the past three days, and he was happy for them. He’d actually had a pretty great time in Mr. Stark’s absence anyway. Of course, not quite as great as it would have been if the man had been there himself, but it was still good. So, not much room for him to complain.

“It’s okay Mr. Stark. I’m sorry I didn’t go down to visit you guys more than I did. I was just wanted to focus on my homework… it’s kinda hard to figure out on my own, y’know.”

“Well, I got some time now. Pull it out here kid,” Tony smiled, dropping down on the couch next to him, wearing an excited grin despite the bags beneath his eyes, and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “I’ll walk you through those tricky differentials again and whatever else might’ve stumped you. I swear the education system is just getting worse every passing year-”

“It’s okay Mr. Stark, I finished it already?”

“Oh,” Tony voice rose a pitch in surprise, eyebrows raising as well, “did you want me to check answers or something on the ones you're unsure of?”

“No, it’s okay,” Peter smiled comfortingly at the man, “Mr. Rhodes helped me with my Calculus already.”

“Rhodey?” Tony spluttered indignantly, seemingly surprised by the notion. “Oh... well, what about Chemistry? You were going on and on and on the other day about the ridiculous amount of unneeded work. Did you get that finished up too?”

“Yep,” Peter nodded proudly, not quite registering the perturbed expression on Tony’s face after he said it, “Dr. Banner helped me out. He actually said I can come by tomorrow so we can go over some flash cards we made together. I need to memorize a few things, but after that I should ace the final exam easily.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded solemnly, gazing out blankly at the room while he thought, “well, I’m not excellent in the subject, but if you still need some help with the English packet, I’m-”

“It’s all good, I got Ms. Natasha to help me. She’s actually really good with languages Mr. Stark, did you know that? She speaks, like, a ton of them!”

Peter hesitated when he saw Tony grit his teeth in frustration. He wasn’t sure what he had done to frustrate the man. He had done him a favor! He left him alone so he could focus on making a bond with his newer teenage intern! He’d even done all the work so he didn’t feel required to help!

“You good Tony?” Harley asked, taking note of the engineer’s distressed face when he reappeared with two glasses of water.

“Yeah, all good kid. Just thinking about what I can do with Pete here since I’ve practically ignored him the whole week.” 

Peter smiled at the thoughtfulness, but at the same time… he really didn't want Mr. Stark to feel obligated to spend time with him.

“Hey, Pete, you ready to go kid?! I don’t got all day!” Clint suddenly appeared in the room, twirling a set of car keys on his finger. “Oh, hey Stark. How’re you and your new MiniMe getting on? I don’t think we’ve had the privilege of meeting this one.”

“This is Harley,” Tony introduced gruffly, staring the man down. “What’re you and Peter doing?”

“Oh, the kid mentioned that he hadn’t started on his hours for driving yet. He needs a ton of practice before he’s allowed to get his license apparently! So, I offered to take him for a little spin. Why? Did you need him for something? I’m sure we can postpone it until later, right Pete?”

Peter’s brows furrowed when he took in Mr. Stark’s fidgety nature, sitting rigidly on the couch, rather than his original relaxed position. 

“No, no, it’s fine. Just don’t let him kill anyone. His Aunt will never let me see him again. Stay safe kiddo.”

Then, with that, Tony shot out instructions for Harley to eat and shower before disappearing from the room himself with his head bowed slightly, muttering nonsense under his breath. Soon, only Peter and Clint were left in the room.

Peter couldn’t help but feel good at knowing he hadn’t gotten in Mr. Stark’s or Harley’s way. Of course, he was a little upset that he didn’t get to spend quite as much time with his mentor as he was hoping, but he was glad he was able to help Harley out all the same. 

***

Tony was getting pissed. It was Saturday and he and Peter still hadn’t done anything bond-y related all week. He and Harley had long since finished their project, and Peter’s empty desk was giving him the jitters. He knew what the kid was oh-so busy doing, and it made him the slightest bit angry. He didn’t understand why the kid seemed to be going out of his way to avoid him. It didn’t seem like anything was wrong when they talked!

“Hey, kid, wanna have a little training session before I head back to the lab?”

“No thanks Mr. Stark. I’m still kinda tired from my session with Steve. He’s real intense, did you know that Mr. Stark?

“Hey, buddy, want me to go out on patrol with you? Harley’s off visiting colleges right now.”

“Sorry Mr. Stark,” Peter actually looked slightly guilty for that one, “but I promised I’d help Bucky with his new computer game. I have to teach him how to set up mods… I think that might take a while. Maybe next time?”

“Hey, Pete? Wanna go out to dinner with me and Harley?”

“Can’t! Sorry Mr. Stark!” He had shouted urgently, making an effort to shove Sam over in an attempt to affect the character on screen. “In the middle of a Mario Kart tournament... Yes!”

It was driving him crazy!

“Hey, um, Tony?” Harley started out worriedly, eyeing the man from across the table, “you good?”

Tony’s grip tightened momentarily on the screwdriver as he tried to repress the accumulating frustration. It doesn’t last long, though. He throws the tool down and stares up at Harley scornfully.

“Hey, no need to get fussy at me!” Harley’s quick to defend himself, dropping his own tools to throw his hands up in defense. 

“It’s not you kid,” Tony grumbles with a slight roll of his eyes, turning his attention back to his project. 

“Is it Peter? You keep glaring at his desk…”

Tony stays silent for a moment, risking another glance up to stare at Peter’s desk a few tables down. The silence permeates in the room and for a moment Harley didn’t think he was going to say anything. Boy, was he wrong…

“Since when did he become so chummy with ‘em, huh?” The man scoffed, turning back to look at the surprised boy across from him. He dismisses the befuddled expression and keeps right on going in voicing his frustration. “I mean, c’mon! These bastards know that’s my kid, and now they’re all eating up his time when he was supposed to spend the week with me! We were gonna do all these fun projects and we haven’t done anything yet! There’s only a day left of his vacation! I was going to help him with his homework too, cuz, y’know, that’s what I do, right? I mean, it’s not too unreasonable to for them to have some manners and at least ask-”

***

“Heck, man, you better spend some time with your old man before he has a hissy fit,” Harley voices as he adjusts the sheets on the air mattress he’d been sleeping on. “Or at least another one.”

“What are you talking about Harley?” Peter laughed as he climbed onto his own bed.

Harley gives him a look.

“I’m talking about the full half-hour frustration fueled rant your Dad went on about after you turned us down for dinner. He went on and on about how you guys hadn’t done anything together the whole week. It was actually pretty funny. It looked like he was about to throw a tantrum or something.”

Peter stared at him for a moment, a little dazed by the admittance.

“Are you kidding?!” He cried dramatically, “I’ve literally been going out of my way so you guys could spend time together without me.”

“Well, why the heck would you do that?” Harley laughed, looking at him as if he were crazy.

“You need a Dad!” Peter argued defiantly, throwing his hands out to gesture in the other teen’s direction, as if he were the one to blame.

“So?” Harley scoffed, “doesn’t mean I have to steal yours… You do realize there’s this thing called sharing. It’s quite popular nowadays-”

A pillow was subsequently slammed in his face.

“Shut up,” Peter muttered a bit embarrassedly.

“Whatever,” Harley muttered, tossing the pillow back at him, “but you better get your butt down in the shop with us tomorrow. I don’t wanna deal with one of our Dad’s tantrums on my own again.”

Peter stared at him, dumbfounded, but Harley ignored him. 

The lights had long since shut off when a slow smile slowly inched across his face to replace the gob smacked hole.

It would be kinda cool to have a brother.

Oh my GOD I’m so glad I’m done with this one. Phew! I was definitely struggling! Sorry if it sucks, but thanks for reading. And thank you @irondadbingo for the card :)

#irondad #irondad fic #irondad bingo fic request #peter parker #Harley keener #tony stark #jealousy #jealous Peter #jealous Tony #the boys are all dorks with zero communication skills #I love writing #but sometimes my goodness its so stressful #sibling rivalry

[ashleyswrittenwords]

The Homecoming Formal [ZeLink College AU]

Note: Hi hello it’s me, Ashley. I know this isn’t HTBAQ, but I’ve been drabbling on the side and I very much like this idea. Also there’s a hot fraternity president that I happen to know and anyway, thought it was topical. This is kind of mature rated? Kinda? If you don’t like reading about sexual mentions and stuff or if you’re uncomfy. This will be a couple chapters and then I’m retiring the idea lol. It’ll be cute, promise.

Summary:  [Zelink College AU][Greek Life] Zelda had a one-night stand months ago and finally got over a big break up, but the shame of it happening weighs down on her. To make matters worse, her best friend keeps pushing her to go to formal with a fraternity boy. What happens when she meets their homecoming fraternity's president and her past mistake comes back to haunt her? Can I make this sound any more like a Wattpad book? Can this be anymore cliche? Yes, probably.

Warning: Mentions of the sex.

The Homecoming Formal

The bass seeped from the floor and through her wedges. She was completely off beat but she finally felt comfortable dancing. Dancing wasn't really the word for it, it was more or less being very low and bobbing with the music. There was lots of alcohol and none going on Zelda's tab. She was happy, shouting to the music that the club provided and danced with her girlfriends without a care in the world.

Maybe Midna was right and she should get out more.

It helped when she was paying the bill.

Men had come around every now and again, asking to dance with them and offering drinks. Midna was very staunch about the sudden arrival of testosterone and manhandled them away. Zelda had grinned wryly repeating how much she loved everyone. More jelly shots please.

Countdown and shots. It was a cycle.

How many did she have? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered right now. Zelda wanted to have fun.

She turned around and didn't see her friends. They were on the dance floor. She felt wobbly and a steady sense of vertigo washed in. Okay, the bar is nice now anyway. The bar stool was cozy and gave her relief to the balls of her feet. Someone brushed against her, slurring to the bartender. Zelda didn't recall what was said, but the nice drink lady was reluctant to give him more. Oh, it was a man. She had looked at him and he had looked at her.

Fun had found her.

Daren ΚΗΣ : Yo me and the boys are tailgating across the street from the stadium. You going to the game tmrw?

Zelda's eyes flicked up to her phone, which dinged, and pulled her from her glazed over stare. She sighed and stretched before grabbing the phone.

Me: Yea

A beat passed before the phone buzzed again.

Daren ΚΗΣ: Ahahah slideeee

She squinted at the phone screen and opted to stare off into the corner of the library. The calculus homework that glared at her from her computer screen seemed to hate her more than she hated it. A woman bounced through the door and immediately locked eyes with her. Her stare was piercing and Zelda felt like crawling under the table.

"Zelda Harkinian, what are you still doing here?" Midna said, accusatory.

"I…" Zelda paused, her brain not giving her a snarky reply, "I needed a couple more hours before the test." The woman picked up the cup of coffee that sat under Zelda's chin. It was still half full and hours old. The scent was comforting, at least.

"Cold coffee again?" The scary woman dumped it into a trashcan without another word, drawing attention from the people around them.

Zelda wined, mourning the lost cup, "Midna! You know that coffee here is expensive!"

"Only because you're too lazy to get off campus for a fix, besides you're addicted. Look at those eye bags! You know we have a social this weekend and you still insist on torturing your skin. What have I told you about at least using eye cream?" She went on, the blonde zoning out. She wondered how she would get out of this one. Midna was obsessed with socials. Especially this year, being that their homecoming fraternity was Kappa Eta, also known as Kappa Eta Sigma. It didn't make complete sense to Zelda, she wasn't the one for Greek drama, but if it made Midna happy she would be happy for her. In all honesty, a lot about being in a sorority confused her. It took a lot of pressure from her friends to rush with them two summers ago.

It was quite possibly the worst experience she'd ever faced. Standing outside sorority houses for fifteen minutes in the hottest days of summer weren't exactly what the movies depicted. The feeling of an hour's worth of makeup melting off her face made her shiver to this day. But to her friends it was something worth doing and Zelda couldn't complain. She met amazing people in her house and having Midna joining her made it even better.

"Anyway, tomorrow before the game we're going by their tailgate."

Zelda groaned, "Are you serious? Why? I'm trying to pull a disappearing act on one of their brothers."

"Because they're our homecoming frat and Paya said everyone has to stop by at least once if we're going to the game. And free drinks and free boys," Midna pulled her phone out, typing something in it was a grin. "Is it Daren again?"

"Yes," Zelda said breathlessly, shutting her laptop closed, "He's been either texting or snapchatting me everyday since the date party." She flung her backpack on and followed her tall friend out, looking around shortly for any of Daren's frat brothers. Believe it or not, fraternities were more invested in drama than any top-tier sorority. They always played that bad boy persona, but could never dish it. Of course, in Zelda's opinion. If anything, they were middle schoolers in snapbacks… just barely old enough to drink cheap liquor.

"Hey, I told you to get that other guy on their list. The blond one with the tan."

Zelda huffed, "I didn't know I was being catfished, Mid. Not my fault."

"Just, you know, make out with some other guy in front of him. He'll get the message."

"I'd rather die."

Midna looked up from her phone with another striking stare. How does she get her winged eyeliner so perfect everyday? "Don't give me that, Zel. You try pulling that perfect scholar attitude on me all the time, but I know you can get some if you really wanted to."

Zelda rolled her eyes, "I've no clue what you're on about."

"Really? After that last boy? When we went clubbing and you wore that skimpy black dress and we lost you. I thought you were kidnapped, but you just ran off with a boy."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Zelda felt heated, "It was one night and I regret it." And she did truthfully regret it. That night haunted her as much as it did thrill her. She couldn't remember his face or name but he sure was good at-

"OMG you're so thinking about it."

"No!" Zelda fumbled as they descended down the hill, almost tripping in front of a man on a longboard, "I'm not!"

"Oh, my Zelda. Growing up so fast! Having one-night stands with hot men! I'm so proud," Midna pretended to wipe a tear. Some random girls caught wind and looked at the duo in a strange manner.

The blonde girl fumed, crossing her arms and pulling her math notebook close. She thanked her stars for the leggings she decided to wear. The days were getting cooler, but she couldn't bear to turn to jeans just yet. The oversized shirt she wore displayed her universities name: North Hyrule University.

"When is your calc exam?"

Zelda looked at her phone, "At 2. So, I have a couple hours to kill."

Midna looked at her with that look that made Zelda worried.

"Midna what are you planning?"

Silence.

"Midna."

A smile was being wrestled with on her red lips.

"Oh, Hylia above help me."

The accused girl gasped dramatically, "My stars! Would you look at that! Kappa Eta has a tent put up just down the sidewalk. What a coincidence!" Zelda's eyes were immediately pulled towards a row of tents in the common area. Damn it, of course she would lead us here. It was still early in the semester so clubs and chapters were scouting for freshmen. There was an outlandish difference between sorority and fraternity recruiting, the latter going through recruitment events throughout the semester. Sorority rush however was a week filled with suffering. It wasn't fun for anyone involved.

"I really don't want to go," Zelda whined.

"You are," Midna looped her arm around Zelda's as a move to take her as captive. She was evil. "We should at least meet some before the social. Maybe we can get you a new formal buddy! Wouldn't that be peachy?"

"Oh, yes. I'm sure any man would want to see me in no makeup and hellish looking. Perhaps I should tell them that this horrible hair bun is Vogue," the blonde groveled, trailing behind Midna who looked positively radiant.

"That may work," Midna said absently, responding to a yell with her name. She had already put on that dazzling smile, while Zelda was trying to remember if she brushed her teeth that morning. Kappa Eta's tent was loud to sum it up. Loud and obnoxious. Several were talking to nervous freshmen and showing off their acts of good deeds. Or whatever frats boasted about. Midna was talking to Kafei, a man she loosely knew from a friend. He seemed nice enough, but Zelda ended up zoning out on the background. Why did frat boys tend to wear the same outfit 8-year-olds wear to their grandma's for Easter? The bright shorts were killing her. At least some of them took the decency of wearing long khakis and a normal tee shirt with their letters. That makes sense.

A hard nudge to the side sent Zelda into the real world again.

"-and Zelda here is our Academics Chairwoman, as you can see she's clearly been wrapped up in it. She's in Calculus 2, you know?"

"Are you finished with the dossier on me?" The accused woman glanced at who Midna was talking to. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." The man was looking at her odd and his expectant gaze caused her to stop thinking for a moment. His hair was longer than what she usually saw with typical frat boys, shaggy and blond. His eyes contrasted greatly to his skin. He was tan and she wondered if maybe he was on the football team. He seemed like he could be built for that; a linebacker? It occurred to her that this was the same guy that Midna had recommended before for the date party. Zelda mentally kicked herself for not taking more care of her appearance today.

"Link," he finished his weird stare and smiled. Almost hesitantly. It made her wonder if she looked worse than Midna described. Had she actually spared her feelings this time?

No, probably not.

He held out his hand and she took it, shocked for a moment by his delicate grasp. She thought he'd be more firm.

"Zelda, this is Link Forester. He's the president of Kappa Eta Sigma." Now it made sense why Midna sounded so professional. She was the Social Chairwoman after all. She had to be diplomatic in some way. A hot flush crept up Zelda's neck, "Oh, I'm sorry. I probably should have known that."

He kept hold on her hand and laughed, "It's fine. I don't expect people to know me. Why should I?"

"Isn't that Zelda?" A sly voice crept in and it took a lot for the named woman to not roll her eyes. Link dropped her hand as another man approached them. He was shorter by a fraction and everything she didn't want to deal with at the moment.

"Hi Daren," she said, trying not to sound lame.

"'Hi Daren'? That's all I get?" It sounded like he was talking to a child. He glanced at Link, "Excuse me, Mr. President. This is my date to formal."

"Formal buddy, but okay," Midna interjected. To be fair, there was a stark difference. Date suggested… other things. Buddy, of course, was a more amicable form of date and Zelda hoped perhaps her own would change before formal. Daren only gave Midna's comment a side glance. "Where's my hug, Zelda?" He was going in for it and Zelda raised her eyebrow in question. Was he really trying to hug her? She had met him a total of one time.

Link pulled him back by the collar and Daren stumbled back. "Yeah, no. We're not doing that here. I told you and the rest of the guys that it's a bad look on the chapter, but I'm honestly not too surprised that you forgot so quickly." Daren mumbled something but complied.

"I apologize, ladies," Link again was looking at us, softer than he was before with Daren. "It was good to see you again Midna," he said, nodding at her and then looked to me. The same smile from before was playing on his lips. "And it was wonderful to meet you, Zelda."

He turned away, said something else to Daren and went to help his brothers with recruitment. Midna was easy to turn Zelda and herself away and begin surveying the rest of the booths as they walked. Zelda hummed, "I do believe I should have followed your advice."

Her companion scoffed, "Please. I should have followed my own advice."

#let me know what u think #college au #loz #loz au #zelink #greek life au #zelda #link #ahhhhhh #fanfiction

[ghosty-schnibibit]

late liveblog b/c i took the time to listen to the first ep over again :P

hey travis? hey- hey travis??? three in the morning travis?????

for real tho i am extremely excited for the new ep, and finally found some time to listen to it!!! this time i won’t have to avoid tumblr for like a week lmao

i can hear the excitement in travis's voice to do the "previously on the adventure zone" message and it fills my heart with happiness

god this music is just so good

how the fuck is that right??? i've played a rouge before and she in no way had a +8 to stealth

let him have this justin

the spectral cat from last ep!

i love argo so much holy shit

that is indeed very upsetting

awww, poor bud :(

oh baby, oh fitzroy my dipshit baby

"it isssss... cat" i love him so much

... argo has never seen a cat before??? poor baby

is he legit afraid of the cat

the voice is already slipping lmao

oh that's adorable! campus kitties :D

that's not a real thing fitzroy

so like a campus card, fun! i had the same thing at tcc lol

i think so? if i remember correctly from the past ep it's shared

"gary doesn't have time for love" :'(

he saw that one post i'm dying

it sounds like trav asked them beforehand, that's a neat way to plan for interactions before they happen and i like it

the dread pirate mary berry

"crush the beef" what does that mean fitzroy

what is this voice clint, you did not have this voice last ep, you've gone from vaguely ned to vaguely merle's fake scottish accent

"this turns to ash in my mouth" i love this

thank you griffin for this in character backstory opportunity

"to be by his side... kickin'" sounds to me like everyone's argo revenge plot theories might be correct

yummy! :D

mind chefs

fitzroy my sweet dipshit

he's a sweet sweets boy c:

"he's a failure" yes and i adore him

... god this class is just me all over

riveau, cool, thank you for the spelling notes

oh dang, that's a cool mechanic, i can see this wielding some potential narrative heaviness later on

i'd say about... a minute is good

i am so nervous for argo holy shit

argo's laying it on thick enough that i genuinely cannot tell whether or not clint got a good or bad roll

that was indeed a seventeen! go clint

... argo :(((

i legit cannot tell if this is argo bluffing the prof or if this is just clint being clint b/c merle and ned both pulled the "so am i getting paid now?" bit multiple times

i trust justin to not make this audio poision

owl professor :D

the dramatic music travis holy shit

so basically the middle ages lmao

"the golden age of accounting" t r a v i s

i can hear justin nearly combusting in the bg trying not to laugh and i am right there with him, this is such good world building but holy shit travis

basically reaffirming from last ep that the entire premise of this arc is the entertainment industry in a post scarcity economy, cool cool

oh my god this is such a mood

i adore bud so much

"sweet bird in heaven" pfff

so this prof is basically capitalism personified... thanks, i hate him

bud is 18 y/o me in my required "intro to college skills" class r/n

i am dying inside, this is so close to my own high school and college experiences, i feel like screaming on bud's behalf

I'M HAVING AP CALC FLASHBACKS TRAVIS, PLEASE LET IT E N D

"and you know what? i believe in you" i don't believe in me right now trav, i'm a 22 y/o adult and i have no idea what most of these words mean

oh god i just got the mental picture of all the other people in this class watching this exchange and it brought new levels of hilarity and abject horror to the situation, jfc i am d y i n g

this owl really is a personification of capitalism, huh? grasping at straws and concocting elaborate fantasy scenarios, desperate to prove that his system works even though it necessitates loss and goes against humanity’s inherently cooperative nature

travis this has gone on for like 15 minutes real time, f r e e  m e

"why did the mind make acorn?" i have never related to a taz pc more than i have in this moment, holy shit justin

sign! me! the! fuck! up!

yes i did trav!!! i loved it and i'm loving this! i am so proud of you!!!!!

aww, poor dude :(

fun! this sounds like a really interesting idea

fitzroy continuing to be salty about his name lol

i want to see the skeletons do the charleston so bad, but more then anything i want rainier to be my girlfriend

poor argo lmao

awww, fun!

f u r b y

nice! :D

JESUS ARGO

nice rolls all around!

go bud!!! ^u^

i don't see how that would help argo???

i'm liking a lot of the skills travis is adding

yes! block for my gf mapleboy!!!

"im feeling dastardly" fitzroy baby, you're allowed to use magic, what you’re doing isn't cheating you absolute dummy

WAIT WHAT

this is badass holy shit, i love these teachers

jesus fitzroy my dude

funky twenty! nice

natural twenty! even nicer

aww, sweet sacrifice boy

fitzroy nearly killed him holy shit

festo???

oh fun! that sounds adorable!

oh god, nm, this character is so weird

jesus christ i am so creeped out

oh my god fitzroy what the fuck, you turned a woman into a fish

aww baby :(((

i am fucking depressed now holy shit

okay, i like festo now

that was a cute lil noise

awww!!! magic pet, i am so excited to see what fitz is going to pick

lil crab buddy :D

poor fitzroy holy shit

oh it's the rouge professor! 

i do not like the creepy whisper voice travis, this is legit creeping me out

i am so fucking worried for argo

who is mariah??? oooh i am so intrigued

rain and stone... this is so interesting holy shit

awwwww!!!!!

"this is nothing" pfff

my sweet boys :')

i! am! so! freaking! pumped!!!

this was another really great episode! i know we’re still in set-up territory as far as how the plot is progressing but i’m already so intrigued in the world trav has made. there’s already so much mystery and foreshadowing going on, both in regard to the world and the character’s motivations and i am here for it! 

i’m actually typing this around 5:30 am and queuing it for later so it doesn’t get buried in the tag, but i cannot wait to see all the art of this ep, especially of snippy lol. see you guys next right thursday~! ^u^

#taz #the adventure zone #taz spoilers #taz graduation #ghosty liveblogs taz #i'm gonna try my damnedest not to be late next time but it couldn't be helped

[kodzukoi]

the ask is again on my notes first bcs I don't have that much retention of my brain to write the ask without reading your last answer at the same time NSBDNS

FIRST OF ALL SORRY BECAUSE I'M IN CLASS AND I'M DOING SOME WILD PARKOUR FROM YOUR BLOG TO THE LECTURE SJDJSJ I'm willing to compete against kenma🤺🤺 unless it's a videogame fight, then I'm gonna be doomed :/ AAAH you're my strawberry girl then 🥰 I'm not too much into basic pet names so watch me calling you "sweet little ball of cotton" like???? I don't make my life harder enough JDJDJS aaah what about cottoncito, it's like cotton with the sufix little in spanish sjdjs little cottonball?? SEEEE DKDJS I MAKE NAMES OUT OF NOWHERE BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT SJDJSJ

AAAAAAAAAAAA don't worry, I mean, sometimes it's my fault too but I'll learn with some time how to act like a proper anon djdjs I promise!

A LITTLE DANCE YOU SAY? STOP YOU'RE THE DEFINITION OF CUTENESS STOOOooOooOP, I want to biTE YOU, NOW.

MY LOVE I'M SORRY I'M PROB GETTING TO THIS PRETTY LATE I SWEAR THIS IS NOT BC I HATE U OR ANYTHING (i have calc hw which is stupidly hard for no reason at the moment - ik how to do it, my brain just isn't cooperating w me LOL)

BUT BUT BUT SLKDFJOWIEJRLSJFOIWERLSDKJF U SHOULD GET GOLD FOR THE PARKOUR UR DOING (ALSO DON'T APOLOGIZE, U HAVE NOTHING TO APOLOGIZE FOR)

and kenma would prob beat u in a video game but i believe u can beat him in any other competition >:3 (sorry ken LOL)

also i love being ur strawberry girl :3 AND SPECIAL PET NAMES ALWAYS HAVE MY HEART BC I THINK THEY'RE SOMETHING THAT THE PERSON PUTS A LOT OF THOUGHT INTO AND THEY'RE UNIQUE so yes, i can also be ur cottoncito or ur sweet little ball of cotton :D

ALSO ALSO ALSO UR ALREADY A PROPER ANON WHAT ARE U TALKING ABOUT AND SDFKLJWEROIWEJTSLDKFJ STOP IT I'M LITERALLY ACTING LIKE I'M IN MIDDLE SCHOOL AGAIN SLDKFJWOEIRJDSLKFJSKDFJSFJ (in middle school i was like the giggling blushing etc etc mess that i am lowkey working very hard to forget bc... oof... we don't talk ab those days AHAHAHAHA)

#mail pit #koi anon !

[parasolids]

idk if there are any fem presenting people going into engr school among my followers but heres some stuff i wish people had told me when i was a young fem presenting kid going into engr school in a red state

yes many engr disciplines very male dominated, i went into mech e which is like, probably 80% male? there were barely any girls in most of my classes tho. it was also sort of a lonely experience since a lot of the girls in my class were like...... too cool for me to hang out with and also i was not exactly a girl LOL

basically growing up on tumblr i kind of just assumed every guy in engr school was going to be like a raging misogynist but while i did encounter a couple raging misogynists 1) a lot of times they're more subtle 2) you will find guys who will stand up for you against raging misogynists but still exclude you in other ways and 3) you will also find guys who accept and respect you as you are. stick with them do your homework together or whatever have fun

even if you're trans/nonbinary. engineering is not a solidly conservative field! actually, most subfields of engineering are more liberal (source); the exceptions are civil, mechanical, and chemical. however, mechanical is closer to an even split, and civil and chemical have a fair amount of female students. anyways, i was a mech e and still found other lgbt people and allies within my major. if your school has an oSTEM branch check it out (i did not check it out bc i was a commuter and couldnt make it to the meeting times lol but a lot of my Gay Engineer Friends were a part of it)

side note it always bugs me when people are like "lol gay ppl cant drive or do math" bc like.... at least half the gay/trans ppl i knew in college were engineering majors lol. one of my closest friends and i in college were both lgbt mechanical engineering students and car enthusiasts. (we did also both fail calc 3 and have to retake it though lol)

you will have sexist professors. again this will often be more insidious. theyre usually not just going to flat out tell you to go back to the kitchen, and you will think you are overreacting. some of them might even present themselves as more progressive. you will doubt yourself on that. i dont really have advice on that one but like.... know that you're not the only one and that you're not just making it up when someones being weird w you. i didnt even realize half of it til id already graduated and found out some of my old professors were getting removed for being weird w female students

know that when your professors and colleagues make you feel dumb bc of your gender that's on them, not on you. i say this as an absolute idiot. i am genuinely not very smart. it's hard for me to learn things and nothing ever gets thru my head. i also had classmates making me doubt myself when i actually was correct. for instance a classmate insinuating a program kept crashing on me because i was misusing it, not because it was buggy software. i found myself on the user forums a few times............. it is, in fact, buggy software. oh the joys of solidworks.

at some point someone is probably going to make a big deal about you being a Woman In Engineering, which sucks if you are, like me, not a woman. all i can offer you on that one is just..... man this sucks im sorry

if youre gonna use chegg try to use it as a learning tool not just a Copying Homework tool esp since i had professors who put up fake answers on chegg to see who was cheating. if you don't understand a step in a problem, go read up on why that step was taken, or ask a friend. if you still dont get it, dont write it down

#cactus.txt #im nonbinary not female but cant really medically transition and im also built very fem so i kind of got seen/treated as a woman

[warlordgab]

One Piece shipping fuel: Manga Vs. Anime

This was made by One Piece fans from the Orojackson forum.

It seems that a considerable amount of people, non-shippers included, can acknowledge the remarkable strength and the impact of LuNa as a potent relationship. Still the fact people are able to grasp it is a great accomplishment for the manga, because the anime adaptation is not always on point when it comes to adapting the source material

Sometimes this happens because the staff at the time merely provide with their own interpretation of characters and story. And this interpretation is what defines the way they adapt the manga into the anime. So they ignored, changed, and altered scenes; and their take on characters and story affected the way anime-only watchers percieved characterization in One Piece

However, we should also recognize that sometimes they did something that could highlight the premise of LuNa. Something fans appreciated. One example would be the first anime episode, although their choice at that time was more likely a nod to Oda's original intent of having Nami as Luffy's first companion.

Other times the changes they made were justified because of censorship, such as this scene in the Kuro arc...

...or Whitebeard getting half of his face instantly melted away.

Both changed in the anime to something less "intense" (ultimately a good call on this 2nd panel)

But there are many times when they arbitrary overlook scenes, change them, and even add to them. And this trend heavily impacts the position people take regarding the relationships set in the story

This post will showcase how the anime adaptation downplayed one premise to overplay another. Most of the times it's subtle, sometimes it's not...

1) During the Buggy arc:

In the manga, we see Nami feeding Luffy and saying she basicaly has nothing against him, so she'll let him out later, which showcases Nami's morals aren't entirelly Lost and rotten. She is a kind person inside and can even overlook the fact that Luffy is a pirate, because he wasn't "bad" to her

In the anime... this scene doesn't exist. It was adapted out of the anime. What reason could they had to make such a call? We'll see it soon enough

2) Ending of the Kuro arc: In the manga, Nami's reaction to Luffy's odd mix of stubbornness and carefreeness is merely a sweatdrop...

In the anime Nami reacts more violently towards Luffy's attitude at that moment

It doesn't seem like much, but it's the start of a pattern that would be upheld by the TOEI for years to come. They started subtle but little by little they gained confidence in their very own way of portraying characterization 3) Sanji meets the SHs In the manga, Nami manipulates Sanji and warns the others to be careful. Next thing she sees is Sanji letching around...

In the anime, this moment is conspicuously missing. Sanji just flirts with Nami and gets interrupted by Zeff. What reason could have TOEI to remove that scene? Were they trying to show Sanji only focusing on certain girl? 4) Arlong Park... The arc that provided with, what many readers considered, he third most impactful pre-timeskip One Piece moment. What did TOEI changed?

In the manga we a simple yet beautiful and meaningful way during the conclusion of this arc: After Luffy provided with hope, comfort, strength, and emotional support, all through a highly significant gesture. Nami returns said gesture to Luffy in a silent scene...

In the anime, this was downgraded to a mere high-five (granted some shippers enjoyed this anyway, but others found it kinda upsetting)

What reason could TOEI have to water down what the arc stablished as a meaningful gesture between two characters? Well, if you lived in Japan by that time you probably got the answer

But, to be fair. They later corrected this in the OVA: Episode of Nami

Still, that doesn’t mean TOEI animation stopped the trend that started during these earlier days.

5) 98.72%

During the final closure of the Arlong Park arc, there was a scene that, at first glance, seemed like a bit of comedy, but it’s actual ship-tease...

Some people take this 98.72% scene seriously without realizing, the pervy cook never made such a calc in the manga

6) Before they arrived to Jaya In the manga, Nami angrily refuses Sanji's shell and walks away...

In the anime, we had another not so obvious change: while they kept her “funnily” aggressive reaction toward Luffy. They toned down Nami's reaction to Sanji:

So in the anime adaption Nami gave Sanji more of a preferential treatment when compared to the manga

Some of you might think this sounds like an exaggeration. But keeping in mind that TOEI offers their own take on charactes and story, take a look at the movies animated by Eisaku Inoue: "The Giant Mechanical Soldier of Karakuri Castle" and "Episode of Alabasta", Luffy recieves the full force of Nami's overplayed wrath while Sanji gets, once again, a preferential treatment: either toned-down reactions or no anger at all

7) Skypiea (note: this one is a little bit tricky...)

I guess some people remember this AP scene:

When the AP building collapsed upon Luffy...

Well, during the Skypiea arc we had the Sanji/Usopp team helping Nami to scape Enel. Sanji stays back to buy some time, which leads to this...

And then they immediately jump off

But the Anime extended the scene in a way that could properly mirror that AP moment:

While the manga had a move or be toasted situation. The anime added scenes and dialogue where Nami questioned Usopp's quick call, adding an impact the manga version didn't have. It might not seem as much but as soon as we get to the latest ones, the pattern will be easier to notice

What makes this change impressive is that while they tried to both "improve" and "re-create" the impact of another scene, they also downplayed other scene involving a different character setup, which we’re going to see right now...

8) Skypiea: Luffy & Nami exchange... In the manga we get a lot about Nami prioritizing Luffy over the fate of Angel Island; Nami seems to make the point across that her priority in that moment was Luffy's life

While in the anime the conversation about Luffy's life ends here:

9) Skypiea: Luffy & Nami, again...

The manga gives us this little jewel, mutual trust/faith in action:

The anime once again downplays this scence. They even altered the dialogue and conveyed something quite different from the manga...

Why would they ingore and/or alter dialogue of such scenes? Yet try to add more impact to others involving a different character setup... 

10) Convo during the Fishman Island arc I was going to add the fact they adapted out Nami's first flashback after hearing about Luffy's hardship in MF. But by that time TOEI was a little bit more tamed, after all SW (written by Oda) was released. Also this post is already long enough.

As noted by some fans, old habits die hard, so TOEI started once again: In the manga, we had Nami recieving tea from Sanji but letting Luffy drink it instead...

In the anime, this scene doesn't exist. Luffy gets the tea off-screen 

11) Zou arc: Most obvious pander ever Manga: Nami and the rest watches hopelessly as Sanji is taken away by Capone

The Anime: Toeiland!Nami, in a very emotional manner, runs after Sanji...

By this point, subtlety is obviously out of the window. With this little bit we put into context most of the arbitrary changes and additions made by the anime adaption. If you still skeptical, the next one will be even more obvious...

12) Stealing moments (again), TOEI style Recall how number 6 didn't seem like much? Well, let's highlight another manga scene concerning Nami and a speech she gave about Luffy...

Nami's weatheria speech is acknowledged by some readers as a moment that highlights the dynamic and the chemistry between both characters from Nami's perspective

What did TOEI do during WCI? While Toeiland!Nami is facing Cracker to buy time for Luffy to recover, the anime adaptation gives us a "WCI speech":

Nowhere to be found in the manga

Fun thing is, I've seen shippers stealing moments from rival relationships and re-creating them in their preferred ship. But that’s to be expected from shippers, not from the staff in charge of adaptaing a best-selling manga into an anime

13) Carry me?

Now, a reader of the One Piece manga was watching the moment when Nami used Zeus against BM in the anime, on top of it looking bad (low quality animation), Toei can't help themselves:

Toeiland Nami turns her head to face Sanji and ask him to carry her and run, then tell else everyone else to run as far possible. In the the manga she was too focused on Zeus “transformation” to the point of forgetting to move (lol) and was clearly taken aback by Sanji’s sudden action, went with it and told sanji and everyone to run as far as possible eyes still glued on Zeus. 

They also didn't have Luffy  busy stopping Carrot  the page just before. Adding scenes is one thing, but they even changed actual scenes that happened on-screen in the manga.

They're not even in-character, It would have been more consistent for Nami to ask Jinbe to carry her since we have actual instances of her using him as a mean of transport (lol)

It may seem like a minor change, but an anime-only watcher can easily interpret it as Nami wanting (at least subconsciously) to be carried by Sanji when there are others options available (in the anime they’re all standing close to each other).  In the manga they’re hasty so she just let it be, having all her focus on something else.

It looks like some animators don’t even bother to hide their bias even if that conflicts with the source material

14) Pandering Wano-style

I didn’t expect this at all, but TOEI’s adaptation of One Piece shows they’re getting bolder when it comes to shoving their favorite premise into the anime. Case in point, this scene… 

…while the first panel doesn’t give us anything shippy, the anime gave us Toeiland!Sanji tenderly grabbing Toeiland!Nami, who responded saying his name and holding onto him all in a very sweet manner, before calling Carrot in a neutral tone.

TOEI is now blatantly trying to sell their favorite pairing to every anime-only watcher. And they’re not showing signs of stopping any time soon. In fact, the alterations made afterwards show how their bias is focused on specific characters.

Before Luffy reunited with Zoro, we had a little joke about Sanji’s thirst for women...

...this joke at the expense of Sanji’s character didn’t make it to Toeiland. When a hardcore fan doesn’t like how the story mocks one of their favorite characters they’re prone to dismissing such scenes.

But, once again, that’s not the behavior one would expect from the people in charge of adapting the One Piece manga into an anime.

The prelude to Luffy Vs. Kaido also featured ship fuel. While, Sanji nearly holds Nami’s hand to take her with him...

...such thing never happens in the manga

Due to this large history of wanking and pandering, we could expect that as soon as we get to the point Sanji scapes with Shinobu, Robin, and Nami of course, they’ll likely add shojo bubbles, flowers, and maybe a little blush to spice things up. At that moment, we’ll likely update this post once again

After all, “Toeiland is a magical place”

While it’s true Toeiland had several LuNa scenes. More often than not, they do them justice because the source material doesn’t let them do anything different... of course, as of now, they seem more than willing to fill their version with their favorite premises regardless of what happens in the manga

In spite of the anime adaptation providing with a not so reliable take on the author’s work in this particular regard, we still can draw three positive things from their animation… 1) Thanks to TOEI’s anime adaptation many people were introduced to One Piece and became fans of Oda’s work 2) The fact there were a least two groups of animators who tried to emulate the impact of LuNa and re-created in another premise, reminds us of the saying: “Imitation is the highest form of flattery”. The need to imitate LuNa to make another premise look believable is a proof that LuNa is far more solid and impactful than any other alternative 3) Despite all of TOEI’s changes, alterations and additions, many people acknowledge the strenght of the LuNa bond as one of the most potent, compelling and believable relationships in manga/anime. That’s quite an accomplishment for as we saw, their moments and interactions are diluted many times by the desires of the anime staff

Hopefully this post helps some people to think before they use an argument if they’re basing their premise on TOEI’s adaptation, or the author’s work

#One Piece #comparison #manga #anime #shipping fuel #Luffy #Nami #monkey d. luffy #luffy x nami #straw hat luffy #cat burglar nami #LuNa #Sanji #sanji vinsmoke #adaptation #accuracy #TOEI #eiichiro oda #ルナミ

[ddproductionsw77]

The Break-Up of ‘94

Fandom: IT (2017)

Pairing(s): (Main) Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak)

Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh, Mike Hanlon, (Mentions of) Ben Hanscom, Bill Denbrough, and Stan Uris

Rating: T

Description:  Was it his fault? Was it Richie’s? So much had been screamed and yelled that Eddie couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment everything went too far, even now playing it all back after Richie had left… All Eddie knew now was that he and Richie were really over and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. (Reddie)

Author’s Note: If you’ve read my ‘Work Days Are Long Without You’ fic... Here’s the Break-Up of ‘94 ya’ll. If you haven’t read ‘Work Days Are Long Without You’… you should, lol.

Was it his fault?

Was it Richie’s?

So much had been screamed and yelled that Eddie couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment everything went too far, even now playing it all back after Richie had left…

All Eddie knew now was that he and Richie were really over and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Fuck, he couldn’t breathe. His lungs clenched painfully in his chest and he heard every inhale and exhale whistle out from his restricted windpipe. He was having an asthma attack. He was going to die. He was really going to die. Tears prickled his eyes and he clutched the sheets he was laying on, trying to focus.

Flipping frantically to his side, Eddie brought his knees up to his chest and tried to slow his breaths.

You’re not dying, dumbass. You’re not even having an asthma attack. Your asthma was bullshit, remember? You’ve known that since you were 13-years-old. No, you’re having a panic attack because— because...

Because Richie didn’t know if he wanted you anymore.

That thought did not help. In fact, it made Eddie lose track of any progress he had made in calming himself. He gasped and a sharp pain zipped through his chest, making him squeeze his eyes shut. His hands came up to grasp the side of his head, which was beginning to pound from the lack of oxygen. Maybe he really was going to die...

Jolting up, Eddie catapulted from his bed, away from his pillows that still smelled so strongly of nicotine and cheap cologne. Once he was done dying, he would have to scrub down every surface in his bedroom that Richie had every touched and wash every sheet, pillowcase, and comforter they’d ever shared.

With trembling, frantic fingers, Eddie wrenched open the bottom drawer of his desk. He pushed aside discarded scraps of paper and stationary supplies, searching for his old inhaler that he had managed to go without for the last four years.

He couldn’t find it and remembered with a sudden twist of nausea that Richie had persuaded him to toss it off the fucking Kissing Bridge as a stupid New Years Resolution back in Sophomore year. So fucking dumb, he realized only now that he was beginning to get tunnel vision.

With no other option, Eddie scrambled to his door and managed to throw himself down the stairs to the living room.

His mother sat in her usual armchair, knitting in her hands and eyes trained on the television behind thick glasses. She looked up from whatever reality show she was watching as Eddie crashed into the room, gripping the door frame and wheezing. In an instant, she was on her feet and rushing toward him.

“Eddie?!” Sonia gasped, desperately. “What’s wrong?! Are you having an asthma attack?!”

No, you fucking know that I’m not because you know, just like I do, that that was bullshit, Eddie thought but nodded anyway, not able to catch his breath enough to find words for her.

Her hand flew to her mouth and her other clutched his shoulder painfully as she dragged him into the kitchen. Throwing open a cabinet, she took out an untouched inhaler and tore the cap off.

Sonia shoved the aspirator toward her son’s lips and Eddie took it without any resistance. He pressed down on the trigger and greedily inhaled the medicinal water. Logically, he still knew that the inhaler was just a placebo, that it was doing shit all to actually help him, and yet he still felt his lungs begin to expand.

His mother reached out and made him take another dose.

Pulling the inhaler away, Eddie practically collapsed against the counter and dropped his head into his hands. His whole body shook like a leaf as he focused on leveling his breath. Fisting his hands in his hair, he bit down hard on his lip to try and keep the sobs crawling up his throat at bay.

A hand rested against his back and he flinched away, moving back until he was out of his mother’s reach.

Eddie didn’t want her comfort, not over Richie, not when he knew she’d just say that she’d told him so. She’d fucking told him so many damn times.

He’d never listened, maybe he should have.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much now if he had…

“Eddie Bear, talk to me. What happened? It’s been so long since you’ve… recognized that you still need your inhaler.” Sonia asked, sounding as if she was genuinely concerned. Honestly, she might have been but Eddie could never really tell when it came to his mother.

He shook his head, eyes watering. He prayed she’d just think his teary state was due to his attack. He couldn’t talk to her and he didn’t want to. Even if he had, he didn’t have an answer for her. He didn’t even fucking know what had happened…

(An Hour Ago)

Eddie pulled Richie closer to him, playing absentmindedly with the hair at the nape of his boyfriend’s neck. That was where the messy curls were the softest, like feathers in Eddie’s fingers. Besides, he knew Richie was a sucker for having his hair played with…or pulled under different circumstances.

But they were not currently under those different circumstances. No, they were just together.

The room was filled with the soft lull of ‘The Winner Takes It All’ by ABBA, just because it was on one of Eddie’s favorite albums and not because he was really in the mood for it. Later, he would find that ironic, but at the time everything had felt so normal.

Being with Richie after school, the other boy in his bed with his eyes closed, looking carefree and content like always, long fingers tracing patterns across Eddie’s chest and torso over the fabric of his soft yellow t-shirt. It had felt so natural.

Richie shifted above him before sitting up, “Your mom home?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie answered, checking his watch. “She only just got off work, so we should have a half hour until she’s back.”

“Fuck yeah,” Richie grinned, moving to hover over Eddie. He quickly leaned down to peck the shorter boy’s lips before slipping off the bed. “I’m starving and I happen to know where Mrs. K keeps the good stuff. Want anything?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, sitting up on his elbows, “I’m good, Trashmouth.” He looked thoughtful for a moment before calling after his boyfriend, “Nothing with peanut butter! It is actually worse than kissing you right after you smoke!”

He heard a laugh out in the hall as a response.

“Fucker,” Eddie muttered, sitting up fully. He spied Richie’s backpack on the floor, propped up against his bookshelf. “Hey, you got your Pre-Calc test back today, right? How’d you do? We did study all last Saturday!”

Only silence answered him and he shrugged, getting up and grabbing the bag. Setting it on his desk, he unzipped the largest pocket and rolled his eyes in endearment at the mess inside. It was likely one of the crumpled balls of paper actually was Richie’s test.

He paused, brow creasing when he noticed a single envelope among the chaos that looked as if it had actually been handled with care.

Eddie reached for it, pulling it from the bag without a single thought for the Pre-Calc test left. Raising the envelope to eye level, he read in bold letters that the post was from The University of California, Los Angeles and clearly addressed to Richard Tozier.

When the fuck had Richie heard from UCLA? And why would he be packing away letters from them when they’d already agreed on going to NYU together? They’d been accepted together and they’d sent in their letters of intent.

Heart racing, Eddie found where the letter had been previously opened and snatched out the paper from within. Nearly tearing it, he unfolded it and tried to read despite how his hands were suddenly shaking.

Dear Mr. Tozier,

We are pleased to inform you what you have been accepted to join us here at UCLA in the coming fall! We encourage you to please send in your letter of intent as soon as possible as we only have so many spots on our campus for bright, young student such as yourself…

The letter droned on but Eddie could read no further, numbly taking a seat at his desk.

Richie had applied to UCLA? And he hadn’t even told Eddie? But… But they were going to NYU together... weren’t they?

Eddie’s bedroom door slammed back open and Richie came crashing in with his usual grin in place. “Okay, so, I know you said no peanut butter but, baby, I found your mom’s Reese’s stash and Reese’s are better than sex, I swear, so I couldn’t just not— What the fuck happened to you?”

Eddie slowly looked up from the floor to meet Richie’s now perplexed eyes. He held up the letter that was still in his hand, “You applied to UCLA?”

Richie’s shoulders fell and he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, about that—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eddie cut him off, standing up. “And why would you apply at all? The plan is New York, Richie, remember? NYU with Bev, Bill, and Stan? And Ben and Mike are going to Columbia… I thought that’s what we all agreed on, what we all wanted…”

Richie remained silent, staring at his feet.

Eddie tried again, “Rich, talk to me. I’m just confused. Why did you apply to a school in Los Angeles? And why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

Richie shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie snapped, anger now building within him. “That’s bullshit and you know. So, fucking answer me.”

“I don’t know, Eddie! I just did it! So fucking what?” Richie snapped, obviously getting riled up as well.

Eddie didn’t care, hammering on, “So, UCLA is over 2,300 miles away from New York, asshole! You know, the place where I’m going to be? Where you said you’d be, too? Ring any bells?”

“Yeah, it does actually since you never fucking shut up about it!” Richie said in a tone that was on the verge of yelling.

Eddie flushed red, “Yeah, dumbass, because I’ve wanted to go to NYU since I was 14! You’ve never even mentioned UCLA to me! Not once! And why are you keeping this?” He waved the letter in the air, “You already sent in your letter of intent to NYU!”

Richie grew silent again, taking a step back and refusing once again to meet Eddie’s gaze.

He felt like he was on fire and not the good burning feeling he was used to getting around Richie. No, this was a fire that made him shake and see everything in shades of red. Eddie spoke, dangerously low, “You didn’t send your letter, did you?”

There was a long pause before Richie finally shook his head.

“But you told me—“ Eddie cut himself off, a sickening feeling twisting in his stomach.

“Goddammit, Richie! So, not only have you been keeping things from me but you lied to my fucking face, too! What the hell is wrong with you?” Eddie yelled, throwing the stupid appearance letter at his boyfriend.

Richie swatted it away, his rage seemingly reignited, “What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you, Eds? Because at least I didn’t try to trap you in some bullshit plan that you didn’t even know if you wanted a part of!”

Eddie choked, feeling as if he’d been socked in the stomach. When he finally spoke, his voice was aghast, “T-trap? You feel trapped with me?”

His boyfriend sighed, running a hand down his face, “That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what you said,” Eddie countered.

“Dammit, Eddie—“ “So, what? You don’t want to go to NYU, you’ve made that abundantly clear! So, what about me?”

“What about you?” Richie sighed, sounding incredibly annoyed.

“Do—do you even want to be with me anymore? I wouldn’t want you to feel trapped or anything.” Eddie used Richie’s words right back against him, wanting to jab and cut like he’d been jabbed and cut.

Richie gulped, “What you fuck are you talking about, Eds? You know that I...”

“That you love me? You’ve said it before, yeah, but that’s not what I asked,” Eddie’s voice shook a little and he sounded breathless. “Do you still want to be with me, Richie, or not?”

“Eddie, come on,” Richie practically pleaded, “I— I don’t know, okay? It just seems stupid to plan our whole futures around each other! We’re fucking 18, for shits sake!”

“And I’ve been in love with you since the sixth grade,” Eddie whispered, looking up at his bedroom light and hoping it would stop the tears he could feel burning behind his eyes. He raised his voice again, “I do know. I want to plan my future around you, Richie! And you— you don’t?!”

Richie shrugged and suddenly Eddie wanted him to hurt. He wanted Richie to express some kind of real emotion because Eddie was standing there feeling too raw and pained and Richie was acting like he didn’t feel a fucking thing.

“You don’t know? After everything we’ve been through, after you just said you love me, after all the nights I have given you my time and shared my bed, after all the bullshit I have taken from you over the years, YOU DON’T KNOW?!” Eddie ended in a roar.

“I FUCKING GUESS SO!” Richie screamed back, making his glasses go a bit askew on his nose.

Eddie glared at him, hard, before speaking up once again, “Fine then, I’m done. I’m done with all of it, I’m done with us, and most of all I am done with you. Get out.”

Richie froze and Eddie swore the boy stopped breathing for a moment as his face paled to the same complexion of a ghost. He began sputtering with wide eyes, “Eddie, wait, no, just— just, wait, okay? Please, baby, we can figure this out—“

“Nothing to figure out,” Eddie said, his voice emotionless as he shook his head. “This — you and me — we’re over, Richie. Get. Out.”

So… was it his fault?

Was it Eddie’s?

Everything had been fine and then it just wasn’t.

Richie wanted to fix what had been broken but he didn’t know how. Would Eddie even want him to try? Shit, he’d never felt like more of a complete fuck-up than he did as he numbly wandered around the streets of Derry as the sun set in shades of pink on the horizon.

It was getting dark and streetlights were flickering to life above his head and he had nowhere to go.

He hadn’t slept in his own bed in his own house since… Fuck, he didn’t even know when. Why would he ever need to sleep at home when Eddie’s window was always unlocked just for him?

He couldn’t even remember all the times he had slipped in only after seeing Mrs. K’s bedroom light shut off.

His boyfriend had never seemed offset or even surprised to see him; most of the time, he seemed borderline relieved. Richie often found him sitting on his bed, in his favorite comfy shorts and over-sized t-shirts — most of which had been stolen from Richie — with a tired smile on his face, a book in his lap, and a gleam in his eyes.

Richie would grin and say something stupid in greeting, usually something that made Eddie blush as he set his book aside — and that only made Richie nearly go into cardiac arrest. He was so cute when he blushed…

Sometimes, they would do… more productive activities… but most of the time Eddie would just sink down on to his back and wave Richie over. Richie would follow his direction for once in his life and slip into his spot between Eddie and the wall. Eddie would throw an arm around him and tuck his chin into Richie’s messy hair. Richie would close his eyes and rest his head where he could heart his boyfriend’s fluttering heartbeat until it lulled him to sleep.

But, none of what happened before mattered now. Richie was pretty fucking sure if he tried Eddie’s window at the moment, it’d be locked up tight. Maybe even nailed shut.

I’m done.

Richie squeezed his eyes shut, heart pounding in his chest.

I’m done with all of it—

He gulped, rolling his neck agitatedly.

—I’m done with us—

His throat seared as if he’d swallowed fire and he tried fruitlessly to clear it.

—and most of all, I am done with you.

Richie’s chest ached like an open wound as Eddie’s words continued to echo through his brain.

Get out.

This — you and me — we’re over…

Get. Out.

God fucking dammit, Richie didn’t even want to go to UCLA!

Not really. He just wanted away from his mother and father and he just hadn’t been thinking when he’d applied and he never thought he’d actually get in. That was really the only reason he hadn’t brought it up to Eddie, because why would he? It seemed pretty fucking pointless when he hadn’t thought he’d get in!

Do you still want to be with me, Richie, or not?

Eddie had sounded wounded and so scared. Richie was such a dick, he couldn’t even find the courage to tell Eddie that of fucking course, he still wanted to be with him! No, instead he had said he didn’t know.

Then, he’d only made matters worse by word vomiting just a few of his pent-up fears from the last few months onto Eddie’s loose, white socks.

His mother and father were high school sweethearts. Once upon a time, they’d probably even loved each other enough for Maggie to give up whatever future she had to be the pretty little housewife, to let herself get knocked-up with a son she’d end up regretting.

So, yeah, Eddie loved him now but what about months from now, when they were in shiny, bright New York? Or after they got out of college and Eddie wanted to go after a real career and stop dragging around Richie’s dead weight and excessive emotional baggage?

Richie had learned to bare his mother and father’s resentment of his existence; he didn’t think he’d survive Eddie’s.

Who knew?

Things were probably better this way, with him and Eddie going their separate ways now instead of later before they started to really not like each other anymore. This way perhaps they could eventually find a way to be friends again… Or at least not hate each other.

Aw, who the fuck was he kidding? From the hurt, anger, and betrayal in those gorgeous brown eyes with he’d told Richie to fuck off, Eddie Kaspbrak was already well on his way to hating the Trashmouth.

FUCK, why, why, why couldn’t he just fucking talk to Eddie? Why was he so fucking terrified of just being… well, honest?

Because when you spill your guts, they don’t go back in. That was why.

You couldn’t unsay the dumb shit you’d yelled. You couldn’t unadmit the feelings you’d confessed. Once it was all out, filling the air with its toxicity that was it. There was no just kidding, man or do-over. You couldn’t fucking take it back.

So, instead the asshole just kept cracking shit jokes, like nothing mattered, like nothing touched him, like nothing scared him… But it did. Actually, everything did. Under the facade, Richie was scared beyond shitless and now he’d gone and fucked it up with the one person who ever made him feel even the slightest bit capable or brave.

Why did he say he didn’t know?

Balling his hands into fists, the tension in Richie’s shoulder loosened just a bit as he felt the blissfully distracting bite of his nails into his palms. It dulled the ache in his chest a bit.

Richie stopped short in the middle of the road.

Somehow, he’d wandered his way to Beverly’s Aunt Carol’s house. He saw Bevvie’s light was still on and slowly moved up the walk to the front door. Reaching it, he raised his hand and knocked with numb knuckles.

After a long moment, the door creaked open and light spilled out.

Beverly stood there in her knee-length nightgown and pastel purple silk robe, bunny slippers on her pedicured feet. She rubbed her eyes, a pretty smile splitting across her face.

“Richie!”

It quickly faded, though, as she took in his anxious and disheveled appearance, “Whoa, whoa, what’s wrong?”

“I, uh,” He swallowed hard, “I need a place to stay for the night. Ya mind, Molly Ringwald?”

Bev’s smirked, playfully, “Eddie finally got tired of you?”

Richie’s stomach dropped at Bev’s harmless joke. Logically, he knew that she didn’t know any better, that she wasn’t trying to hurt him. Still, his eyes started to water and he shoved his palms into them, throat burning again.

Clearing his throat, he half-heartedly shrugged, “I guess, you could say that.”

Beverly looked perplexed as the silence stretched before them and Richie seemed to be searching for something more to say.

“He broke up with me.”

“Oh my God,” Bev gasped, eyes widening as a hand few to cover her mouth.

Suddenly, she threw a hand out, grasping his wrist and tugging him into her arms. Instinctually, Richie’s hugged her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and stooping to bury his face in her fiery locks. They held each other and rocked on Beverly’s porch for a long time before she slipped back to take up his hand.

Leading him back to her room, Bev sat Richie on the bed and pulled his bangs back from his forehead, tilting his chin up toward her and forcing him to meet her pale blue eyes.

“Richie, what happened?” She asked, her melodious voice soft and delicate.

His vision blurred and he blinked rapidly, “I fucked up.”

Richie’s voice broke and Beverly watched, heartbreaking for him, as he seemed to crumble before her. His shoulders slumped and the nearly ever-present quirk of his lips was gone. There was no mischievous glint in his dark eyes, only pooling tears.

Sighing, she relented and pulled his head to her chest, patting his hair, “Start at the beginning and tell me everything…”

The Losers couldn’t take it anymore.

It’d been a whole eight days since Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak had broken up and their best friends were made to suffer almost as much as the two boys themselves. But it was on the eighth day that the Losers reached their limit. It was an interaction in World History that had been the last straw.

Obviously, Richie and Eddie had to just deal with being in classes together. And they had, Eddie moving up to the front of any shared class as Richie slunk back into corners near the door. World History was one of these classes and one Bev and Mike both had as well.

Mrs. Maider had been droning on as usual about one of the World Wars when she’d stopped short, crossing her arms over her chest with an annoyed sigh. Her beady eyes zoned in on the back of the classroom as she called back, “Mr. Tozier?”

Out of old habits that he really needed to break now, Eddie spun in his seat and felt the air sweep from his lungs as he properly laid eyes on the boy he had loved — fuck it, still loved.

The first thing he noticed was how tired the bespectacled boy looked. Shadows like bruises gathered under his eyes and his skin looked paler than normal. Eddie’d always been the china doll between them because Richie was a fucking idiot who’d apparently never heard of skin cancer…

Eddie shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and realized that Richie must have fallen asleep. The impression of the folds in his hoodie sleeves was still red on his cheek and he looked a little bewildered as if Mrs. Maider’s call had startled him.

…He looked cute.

No, he doesn’t. Stop it!

“Mr. Tozier? Care to explain yourself?” She asked, shaking her head. “Honestly, why would you think it would be okay to catch-up on your beauty sleep in my classroom. You need this content for any college history course.”

Richie’s startled expression settled out to a smooth blank look. Leaning back in his chair, lazily, he sighed, “Well, I guess it’s good thing I don’t really give a fuck about college anymore, then, Mrs. M.”

Red splotches sprung up across the old woman’s face, “Excuse me, Mr. Tozier, you will not—“

“So, college, too, then?”

Eddie had called back before he could even think. Rage burned in his chest, hot, coiling, and desperate to lash out. All heads turned to him, including Richie’s. His eyes were as wide as saucers for a second before his eyebrows knit together.

Eddie figured he’d already made a scene and so pushed on to clear up any of his ex-boyfriend’s confusion. “You know, just another thing to add to your ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about’ list?”

“Mr. Kaspbrak! I am absolutely appalled—“

“Oh, can it, Linda!” Richie snapped, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands down on his desk. He was clearly about to bite right back but was cut off by the teacher he’d only just told to shut up.

“THAT IS IT!” Mrs. Maider shrieked. “Out. Both of you! Now! You can go speak to Principal Pacer about your horrific conduct.”

Both boys glared daggers at one another breathing heavily for a long moment before Richie jerked back up to full attention and snatched up his backpack. He made for the door, flipping Mrs. Maider the bird as he shoved it open. A beat later, Eddie was up grabbing his things and cashing after the other boy.

They did not speak on the way to the office, they didn’t even look at each other.

They got detention. Not the worst, Eddie knew, but he was still not excited at the idea of having to explain to his mother. Then again, she’d probably cry tears of joy once she heard that the punishment was for yelling at Richie Tozier in class.

After school, as Eddie threw his textbooks into his locker, Mike stood beside him.

“Maybe, I don’t know, Eddie,” The born farmer boy sighed and leaning back against the closed locker next to his friend’s. “Maybe having detention with Richie will be a good thing?”

Eddie spun on him, looking horrified, “Please explain to me how that could ever be fucking true, Michael.”

“Because maybe you two will finally get your shit together and talk! If World History made anything plain to see, it was that you two still have a lot to say to each other.” Mike argued, never one to jump to anger and yet so fed up with his friends’ behaviors.

“I don’t want to talk to him.” Eddie snapped, slamming his locker shut. “And I don’t even know what you’re talking about, I have nothing else to say to him”

Mike snorted, “Three lies in one breath, Eddie. That’d be impressive even if you didn’t have breathing problems.”

“I’m not lying, Michael.” The short Junior glared off into nothingness before rolling his eyes and straightening, “I got to go. Detention.”

Just outside the double doors that Eddie passed on his way to Mrs. Maider’s classroom for his punishment, Richie stood with Beverly while sharing one last cigarette before he’d have to go back inside.

“What the fuck was he even talking about?!” Richie burst out after taking a long drag.

Beverly scuffed the toe of her untied work boot across the pavement and looked up to squint at her friend standing in the low, afternoon sun. Pushing her hair out of her face, she took the cigarette back, balancing it in her fingers without raising it to her lips yet.

“I think he was talking about you not, and I quote, ‘giving a fuck’,” She muttered, flicking off remaining ash.

“Yeah, well, that’s bullshit,” Richie growled, shoving his fists into his hoodie pockets. “It’s bullshit and it’s unfair. He knows that I—“ The boy stopped short, eyes darting away.

Beverly inhaled the sweet smoke of nicotine, releasing it into the atmosphere as she filled in the blank, “That you care about him?” She sighed, cocking her head to the side, “I don’t think he does, actually. I think that Eddie genuinely thinks you don’t give a shit about him anymore.”

Richie’s head shot up and he glared at her, “Watch yourself, Marsh.”

“I’m just saying think about it, Rich,” The girl held up a hand, cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth as she rolled it between her teeth. Passing it back to her friend, she leaned back on the wall of the school. “If Ben and I fought, fought so bad that I got angry enough to say I wanted to end things, and then he just… let me? Well, I’d be inclined to think he must not have cared as much as I’d thought, too.”

“I didn’t just let him!” Richie said, defensively.

“Oh, really?” Beverly quirked an eyebrow. “And where was I when you actually tried to talk things through with him?”

“Fuck off, Marsh,” The boy hissed, taking a drag.

Beverly groaned and glanced at her watch. Standing up straight, she stepped up to Richie and took the cigarette right out of his mouth, stubbing it out on the sidewalk, “Yeah, yeah, keep it up and find a new place to sleep tonight. Now, get to detention, jackass.”

Eddie was already in his new normal seat in the front row when Richie arrived at Mrs. Maider’s class. The old bat was at her desk and sighed disappointedly when he came in and took his seat at the desk furthest from his ex.

“Mr. Tozier, you are late.”

“It’s five minutes.”

“Five minutes you can make up by coming in early tomorrow.”

Richie groaned and dropped his head on to his arms for a moment before nodding up at her, “Okay, whatever.”

“If you would just have good judgment, Mr. Tozier, then maybe you wouldn’t get yourself into these situations.” The World History teacher shook her head, woefully.

That familiar ache in his chest that’d been born in the moment Eddie had said it was over flared to life and Richie felt his throat tighten. Without his consent, his gaze flickered over to Eddie only to find the other boy watching him with a creased brow like he was waiting for Richie’s response.

Clearing his throat, Richie looked back down at his arms folded on his desk, “Think you might be barking up the wrong tree, Mrs. M. Good judgment isn’t really my thing.”

The teacher pinched her lips but said no more.

They sat in complete silence as Mrs. M graded papers, glancing up at them every few minutes. It was like she thought they’d actually try to pull one over on her or something. Even Richie wasn’t that fucking masochistic.

He was, however, apparently just masochistic enough to let himself keep sneaking looks at Eddie.

The boy was wearing jeans and a Mickey Mouse sweater two sizes too big for him that Richie knew full well he usually only wore to bed. His posture was rigid, awkward, and — Richie realized after a few lingering glances — defensive. What did he think Richie would try to throw blows now? Did he really think Richie would ever aim to hurt him?

Never once did he turn around or glance over his shoulder, though. He clearly didn’t ache to look like Richie did.

It was disorienting, not having Eddie as his focal point anymore like someone had thrown him from a moving train without any map or north star to lead him home. He couldn’t count the times in the last eight days that something had happened and the very first thing he’d thought to do was find Eddie to tell him.

You’re the first person I thought about going to.

Richie had said that to Eddie once, over a year ago, right before they’d confessed to liking each other — back when they still hadn’t admitted to even themselves that like had really been love. Their first kiss had been mere seconds after that because Richie had been unable to just say how he felt, the start of a bad habit maybe… For someone who used them so frequently, he really was shit at words.

He wondered if Eddie remembered that night, their beginning. If he thought about it as often as Richie had been lately, if he ached when he did, too.

About halfway through the hour, Mrs. Maider excused herself to run an errand in the library. She shuffled out, eyeing the boys suspiciously until the door finally closed behind her.

Richie slumped, dropping his chin onto his arms and casting his gaze back up to Eddie once again.

“Stop fucking staring at me, or I swear to God—“ Eddie growled suddenly, twisting around in his seat and stopping short upon seeing Richie jump and open his own mouth to speak. Eddie did not allow him, “I can feel it on the back of my neck. Cut it out.”

Eddie turned back to the front and Richie sat in stunned silence, considering his next move. Finally, he cleared his throat and called, calm and confidently, up to the other boy, “I don’t think I wanna cut it out. I happen to like staring at you. You’re just too damn—”

“Don’t.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!”

“Actually, I do, asshole. You were going to call me ‘cute’ or ‘adorable’ or some other bullshit and I don’t want to hear it. Not today.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“Stop it, I’m serious.”

“And then again the day after that and the one after that and the—“ “Goddammit, Richie!” Eddie exclaimed, slamming his hands down on his desk and clutching the edges with white knuckles. Richie could hear his breath quicken. “Why can’t you just stop?! Beep beep, asshole. Beep fucking beep!”

When he got the last word out, Eddie took in a gasping breath and brought his hands up to drop his face into them. Richie’s heart clenched in his chest and he felt suddenly ashamed. He should just never open his Trashmouth again, it never helped him, it only screwed him over.

“Eds, I— I didn’t—“

“And now the nicknames, too? Are you trying to make me miserable?! Is that what you want? Because mission accomplished, I’m miserable, congratulations! Now please just stop fucking with me, okay?” Every other word was punctuated with a gasp as Richie felt tears burn behind his eyes.

He hadn’t been fucking with Eddie… he did want to tell him he was cute tomorrow and all the days after tomorrow. Fuck, he would settle for just wanted to talk to him again…

Eddie’s shoulders shook as he fumbled with his pocket. A second later he withdrew an inhaler and triggered it, his breathing calming after a second.

Richie watched, concern blossoming violently in the pit of his stomach. “Wh—why are you using that again?”

Eddie rubbing his forehead, looking at the floor. “Because I need it again.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just have since…“ The break-up, it went unsaid.

“Oh,” Richie swallowed hard and sat up, leaning forward and nervously bouncing his knee. When Richie spoke, he himself could hear how gravelly his voice sounded, “I don’t want you to be miserable, by the way. I like it when” He paused and figured he had nothing to lose, Eddie already hated him, “I like it when you’re happy. I want you to be happy.”

Eddie looked back at him, his eyes an open book of distrust and reluctance. Finally, he looked at the ground and gripped a fist of dark locks along his hairline. He closed his eyes and Richie figured he would remain silent.

“I was happy.” The whisper barely reached Richie’s ears and his heart stopped for a moment as Eddie sat up with a long sigh and looked at him with tired eyes. “Before. With you.”

Every instinct in Richie’s body wanted to find something dumb to say, wanted to crack a joke about how Eddie only missed how Richie could get him off or something that wouldn’t mean anything. However, Richie’s heart only wanted Eddie and so he decided for once to speak from that.

“I was happy with you, too.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was.”

“So, why did you want to leave, then?”

Eddie’s eyes had yet to leave Richie’s since before and Richie felt the weight of his gaze like a pile of bricks on his chest. “I was freaked out and I fucked up.”

An eyebrow twitched downward and Eddie tilted his head to the side. “What were you afraid of? Was the idea of going to New York with me really that bad?”

“No, no! That’s not what I—“ Richie moaned and quickened the bouncing of his knee. “You weren’t what freaked me out, okay? More… the idea of you figuring out one day that I’m not worth it.”

“Worth what?”

“Anything, Eds. The effort, the time, the commitment, any of it. I’m not worth it.”

They both fell silent and Richie thought that was the real end of it. Now, Eddie knew his real reasons for everything. He would understand, realize Richie was right, and move on. He’d go to New York and he’d probably meet some other guy and it’d be great… and Richie would be okay because Eddie would be happy.

“You mean to tell me, that’s why you applied to UCLA? Because you were too much of a sissy to just talk to me about being scared of me — what?— thinking you were worthless?!” Eddie stood up and stomped down the rows of desks until he was standing right in front of Richie. “I’ve never thought that! And, newsflash, I was scared, too, but I figured it would all be okay because it’d be you and me!”

“And now there’s no you and me,” Richie muttered darkly, gloomily flickering his gaze away.

“I really wish that were true right now,” Eddie admitted before shaking his head, “But I’m pretty sure we both know it’s not.”

“You were the one who said—“

“I know what I said, dipshit, but look at us!” Eddie gestured between them. “It wouldn’t be like this if there was nothing here anymore! And I know that no matter how much I want to hate you, I don’t. I can’t because I still love you!”

In the year they’d been dating, Richie could count on his two hands how many times Eddie had actually said those three little words. They were harder for Eddie to spit out and Richie realized that early on. He’d never minded all that much; he didn’t need to be told when he was always shown.

Still hearing it in that moment, Richie could practically feel himself and Eddie clicking back together, like two puzzle pieces that had been knocked under the sofa and were now being reassembled.

Richie was suddenly stuttering and word vomiting, the words cascading out before he could stop them, his guts spilling across the floor, “I still love you, too, and I want there to still be a you and me and if you still want, I’ll to go to New York with you. I’d want to go anywhere with you, even a stupid fucking ABBA concert.”

One side of Eddie’s lips rose into a half smile and he gave a watery chuckle, “ABBA is actually amazing — That’s not the point; the point is you are more important to me than New York so if you want UCLA—“

“I don’t,” Richie stood as well, moving until he and Eddie were barely inches apart. “I just want you.”

Slowly, like he was a little spellbound, Eddie nodded. There was a sweet quirk in his lips and glint of endearment in his eyes that made Richie’s chest contract in the good way he was used to feeling around Eddie.

They’d been slowly inching closer and closer with each word and Eddie’s nose brushed Richie’s as he mumbled the last syllable. Their breath mingled and chapped lips ghosted over one as soft as velvet.

“I’m all in,” Richie said as both he and Eddie’s eye fluttered shut and their lips finally, finally connected. It was like taking a gulping lungful of air after breaking the surface. They seemed to fall into each other, sinking into the kiss and back into their rightful places in the cosmos which was wherever the other was.

Pulling away with ragged breath, Eddie pressed his forehead against Richie’s. “I am never breaking up with you again.”

“Well, thank fuck for that. Don’t know if I’d survive it twice, baby.”

“Richie?”

“Hmm?”

“I know I don’t tell you enough but I do love you.”

Richie’s eyes opened to Eddie’s, looking at him worriedly. He leaned down and kissed the other boy once again, hard and quick and beautifully. “You don’t have to. I know and I love you, too, Eddie Spaghetti.”

#It (2017) #it (movie) #it (book) #reddie #Richie x Eddie #eddie x richie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #stan uris #the losers club #fanfic #fanfiction #high school #college #stephen king #the losers of '89 were here

[dynamic-instability]

Hi, I just finished my freshman year in premed and my grades were horrible (like C average) and it was because I'm just not good at science in college like I was in hs... I'm so tired all the time and like I don't have chronic illness or anything and so I know it's not even like what you went through and maybe I'm stupid for complaining but I just don't know if I can keep doing this. I've wanted to be a doctor all my life, how do I give up on that dream??

(2/3) I just feel like I’m giving up and letting down everyone who expects things of me but when I think about things like having to get volunteer and shadowing hours I just feel like I’m panicing and it’s just this crushing weight and maybe I’m just not good enough but like how do I give up?? Doesn’t that make me weak?? My grades in other stuff like my history classes and even in calc were good but gen chem and gen bio fucking killed me I’ve always been a good student idk what to do now

(3/3) I’m sorry for sending this long thing that probably doesn’t even make sense and you dealt with so much shit with your sickness and stuff and you got really good grades obviously and I don’t even have anything like that, I’m just not good at school anymore?? I just know I need to make a change if I’m gonna do this premed thing and you’ve had to think about in the past what you’d do if you can’t be a doctor. I guess I just wanted your advice sorry this is so long lol I’m kinda freaking out

Oh my sweet bb anon. The first thing to do is to take a breath. The second thing to do is to stop comparing yourself to me or to anyone. Don’t start down that road of who has it harder and who is overcoming more, because that’s just not a productive line of thinking, okay? I’ve been there, I’ve done that to myself, it doesn’t lead anywhere good. Your struggles are your own struggles, and whatever you choose to do, it is valid. It does not make you weak.

There’s kind of a lot to unpack here so I’m just going to do my best.

I think the biggest question you have to ask here is whether you still genuinely want to be a doctor. So you’re struggling in your science classes, that’s okay, some C’s in freshman year don’t have to stop you. Just because your first year was hard, it doesn’t mean it won’t improve, and that’s true for a bunch of reasons. The material, for one thing: I didn’t like gen chem, but I loved orgo, and I know a lot of people for whom that’s been the case (it depends on how into quantitative thinking you are, I think). Also, intro-level bio classes can sometimes be the hardest because you have to learn a whole new vocabulary and way of thinking, but then once you have those skills it can get a lot easier. Also, regardless of your field of study, the first year of college is hard socially and academically, it’s a rough adjustment. I don’t know you, but maybe your mental health suffered from the stress and the transition, or maybe you just didn’t have the study skills yet because your high school coursework didn’t demand them. A couple bad grades does not mean you’re unable to do this.

What worries me more is that you said things like “I’m tired all the time” and “it feels like this crushing weight.” A look back through this blog will tell you I’ve had my share of feeling like this, and that not all of it can be attributed to chronic fatigue. But at least when it came to bio, I’ve always loved the material. Even when it was killing me, I love biology. I love biology and medicine so much that I do shit like writing a completely unnecessary 50-page lit review about cholera. I love a lot of other things, too, like music and history and linguistics, but nothing makes me happy like medicine makes me happy. If you love it and you’re struggling, you don’t need to give up, you just need to find better strategies for doing well. Find a tutor, work with classmates, find new study/organizational skills, retake some courses if you failed them. And there are going to be some courses in your prereqs that you just won’t like (see: me and physics) and that doesn’t have to stop you. The courses you take in undergrad are not necessarily reflective of everything to come. But if you hate science? Don’t put yourself through this. It isn’t worth it.

Here’s the thing. There is such a thing as a weed-out class, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Being “weeded out”, so to speak, doesn’t have to mean you’re not good enough, it can just mean that you’re figuring out what is and is not a good fit for you. My friend @carminapiranha went through this her freshman year, suffered through a year of pre-med where she struggled and was miserable before admitting it was not what she wanted. She has a degree in art history, and is about to go get a master’s degree. There was a girl I knew freshman year who was sure she was going to be a surgeon, but she got a D in gen bio 1 because the class didn’t make sense to her and made her miserable. She got an MBA and is making like hella money now. 

You can change your mind, that is a valid decision. It doesn’t have to mean you’re giving up, it doesn’t have to mean you’re weak, it can just mean you’re looking for something that’s a better fit for you. You said you did well in history classes, but did you also like them? What was your favorite class you’ve taken? I know there are some degrees that feel more “useless” than others, and it would be naive of me to claim that that doesn’t matter when college is so freakin expensive, but honestly? Very few people get jobs directly in the field of their degrees. People end up doing totally random jobs all the time. Maybe there’s something else that’s a better fit for you. If there is, you should go and do that!

So I guess my question is this: why are you trying so hard to stay pre-med? Is it because this is what you want and you can’t see yourself being fulfilled the same way doing anything else? For me, that’s the wall I come up against every time I quit being pre-med (which has happened like… three times now?) If that’s the case then maybe look at alternate careers in the medical field (I myself have thought extensively about becoming a genetic counselor–similar academic requirements, but not as harsh in terms of training, and probably not quite as competitive as far as undergraduate GPA), or you can just keep pushing towards this goal and try to find better ways of studying. As for the extracurricular stuff, I would recommend that you try to stop viewing it as this crushing obligation. Find volunteer opportunities that are things you think are cool and that you want to do, not because they’re things that will look good on a resume. View shadowing as an opportunity to see whether various medical field things are right for you, not as ticking a box for some imaginary (or literal) application-strengthening checklist. If your campus has a pre-med/pre-health club, see about going to some of their events or talks. Talk to a pre-health advisor about options and opportunities. Talk to other pre-health people. It’s a lot, being pre-med. I feel the pressure too, all the time, and it can be exhausting, but if it’s really what you want to do, you don’t have to give up. You certainly don’t have to give up this early. You’re only a baby freshman (well, a baby sophomore, now, I guess) (I can call you a baby because I’m 24 and I have a whole degree now, so #dealwithit) (I promise I mean it with love and not condescension). One year of not-great grades is not going to preclude you from being a doctor.

But if the reason you’re so reluctant to change paths is out of obligation instead of an actual passion for the field, then it’s not worth it to keep making yourself miserable. 

Whoever it is that you feel like you’ll be letting down by not becoming a doctor–your parents or your grandparents or your high school science teacher or whoever–you don’t owe them. I don’t know if you’ve got parents putting pressure on you or what, but if you do, just remember that it’s your life and no one has the right to tell you what to do with it. 

Or maybe the person you feel like you’re betraying is your past self, the version of you that’s dressing up as a doctor for Halloween and telling everyone for the past 18 years how you’re gonna be a doctor and sitting in your bedroom watching Grey’s Anatomy and getting all fired up about how that’s gonna be you one day. This is a thought I’ve had a lot over the past six years or so. It’s hard if you’ve identified yourself by this desire your whole life to suddenly imagine being anything else. I don’t know if that’s the case for you, but I feel sometimes like I have this 12-year-old Kari in my head and I’m breaking her little idealistic medical nerd heart every time I take a step outside the path she’d have me on. But guess what? You don’t owe your past self shit. Your past self had ideas of what your life would be, just like baby Kari had ideas for what my life would be, but she didn’t have all the information that I have. I know better than she did. You cannot control the actions and the thoughts of your future self, you just have to trust that they are better informed than you are. 

You are allowed to change. Your identity is yours and yours alone to shape how you please. It doesn’t make you weak to change course, it makes you flexible. (And hey, if studying biology has taught me anything, it’s that adaptability is key to survival) (There’s a reason my blog is called “dynamic instability”)

#premed #pre med #Kari tries to give advice I guess #sorry if this makes no sense I wrote it in the middle of the night #I kind of wanted to reply 'why the fuck are you asking me I'm a certified disaster' #but I didn't #because I had things to say so #anon #asks

[alphacrone]

fake dating! zimbits

It was only by a stroke of luck that Jack happened to look at his phone just as he exits the lecture hall. The group chat was blowing up – the group chat was always blowing up these days – but the lack of all-caps or exclamation marks caught his attention right away.

Eric Bittle: Guys, I wouldn’t ask this of y’all if I really didn’t need this, but I have to ask a HUGE favor of one of you.

Shitty Knight: brah are you dying

Justin Oluransi: You can have my kidney, Bits.

Adam Birkholtz: u aren’t gonna save that for me just in CASE, JUSTIN?

Larissa Duan: shit, bitty, r u ok

Eric Bittle: Um, yeah, mostly, I just…..need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend.

Jack frowned. More than once he’d stepped in as a fake boyfriend for friends and acquaintances, but they were usually drunk women who needed to escape creepy guys at parties.  Bittle’s texts were starting to make him nervous.

The group chat didn’t seem to feel the same way.

Adam Birkholtz: dude this isn’t a favor

Justin Oluransi: this is a MOTHERFUCKING PRIVILEGE

Shitty Knight: AN OPPORTUNITY, REALLY

Adam Birkholtz: WHERE DO YOU NEED US

Shitty Knight: YOUR LEGION OF HANDSOME BOYFRIENDS

Larissa Duan: bits why wouldn’t you just ask chowder, these knuckleheads aren’t worthy of u

Despite himself, Jack agreed. Bittle deserved someone kind and smart and funny and well-dressed and… well, maybe Ransom fit the bill, but even so. Bittle deserved the best boyfriend.

Jack didn’t realize he’d come to a full halt outside of the building until someone knocked into him from behind. His phone arched down into the grass, and the person next to him gasped.

“Oh, fuck, Jack, sorry,” Camilla huffed, bending down quickly to grab his phone. “I just wanted to surprise you, not break your shit.”

Jack snorted. “It’s fine. Look, not a scratch.” He took the phone from her hands and held it up to show. “You check pretty hard for a tennis player.”

Camilla grinned up at him. “What can I say, you boys inspire me. What’s got you so spaced out? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you even look at your phone before.”

Jack sighed and shook his head. “Oh, I think my teammate’s in a bit of trouble, I was reading through the texts. He needs someone to pretend to be his boyfriend?”

Camilla grimaced. “Ooh, yeah, there’s usually never a good reason for that. Did he sound like he was in danger?”

Jack felt his gut sink. “Um, no, I don’t think so…”

“Then he’s probably okay,” Camilla said quickly. “I mean, like, he’s probably just trying to let someone down gently and thinks this is the best way.” She bit her lip, as if she could tell just how quickly Jack was spiralling into panic. “I’ll let you get back to your texts. Let me know if there’s any way I can help?”

Jack nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Camilla,” he murmured. “See you around.”

She gave him a soft, fond smile. “See you,” she said. “And if you need date night recommendations, that new Indian cafe on Main is really good.”

“I don’t know- I’m not-” Jack frowned at her. “How did you-?”

Camilla laughed brightly. “You’re you, Jack. Of course you’re going to help him out.”

“Oh.” Jack watched as she waved and sauntered away, heart beating rapidly in his chest. He and Camilla were friends, but they weren’t close by any means. If she could tell he was going to volunteer…Jack wondered idly what Shitty might say about the whole situation.

With a sigh, Jack plopped down on the nearest bench and opened up the group chat again, scrolling back up to where he’d left off when Camilla ran into him.

Eric Bittle: Because Jason knows Chowder! And though I love him, Christopher is not the best liar.

Justin Oluransi: JASON?

Adam Birklholtz: JASON?

Adam Birkholtz: lol jinx bro

Larissa Duan: deets, bits

Eric Bittle: This guy in my calc class asked me out and I think he’s really gross so I said no but then he asked why not and he’s probably taller than Holster and is on the JV wrestling team and I panicked and said I already had a boyfriend but instead of just dropping it he got really nosy and pushy and I agreed to bring my boyfriend to a party at his place tonight.

Shitty Knight: um

Shitty Knight: so hypothetically what is this dude’s last name

Shitty Knight: and hypothetically would anyone miss him if he died

Eric Bittle: SHITTY

Adam Birkholtz: OK I have facebook pulled up

Adam Birkhotlz: stop me when i get to him

Adam Birkholtz: Jason Mu

Adam Birkholtz: Jason la Posta

Adam Birkholtz: Jason Lowell

Adam Birkholtz: Jason R. Ball

Adam Birkholtz: Jason Paul

Adam Birkholtz: no last name i guess

Adam Birkholtz: Jason Richards

Adam Birkholtz: Jason White

Eric Bittle: holster stop

Justin Oluransi: bits that was so out of line, he shouldn’t have forced you into that situation

Larissa Duan: did u kno there r kilns in the art building large enough for a human body

Eric Bittle: LARDO

Eric Bittle: guys seriously stop

Eric Bittle: i don’t like this guy, but I think he’s fresh out of the closet, too. It doesn’t excuse his behavior, but the fella clearly just doesn’t know how to handle his newfound freedom. Cut him some slack.

Shitty Knight: ok bitty but you don’t have to go to the party

Shitty Knight: he can deal with a little rejection

Eric Bittle: What I’m hearing is that no one will go with me.

Justin Oluransi: bits….

Adam Birkholtz: dude, i’m sorry, i actually do have plans already for tonight

Justin Oluransi: bitty it’s not gonna kill him if you bail

Jack frowned at the boys’ reactions and was typing before he even knew what he was doing.

Jack Zimmermann: Bittle, would it make you feel safer if you went with one of us?

Eric Bittle: yeah

Jack Zimmermann: And you’re going to go to the party regardless of what anyone says?

Eric Bittle: it would be rude not to

Jack Zimmermann: What time does it start?

This was a terrible idea.

The party was small, some collection of bland-faced Econ and Business majors Jack had never met before. None of them talked sports, for which he was grateful; at Samwell, there was always a chance someone would recognize him. Jack was almost certain this would not come back to bite him – he wasn’t drinking, wasn’t being overly handsy with Bittle, no one was taking selfies or even pretending to have fun at this party at all. Bittle hadn’t even introduced Jack to half of their new acquaintances as anything other than his hockey captain.

But every now and then, when Jason would look across the room, Bittle would take Jack’s hand and Jack thought he was going to pass out every, single time.

This was a terrible idea.

Bittle relaxed a little somewhere after his first beer, still too tense to do much more than stand next to Jack and politely follow along with Boring Econ Dude #1’s conversation. Jack had zoned him out a while ago, and had no idea if they were talking about the stock market or Game of Thrones at this point.

Tired, bored, and really hungry, Jack placed one hand on Bittle’s hip and pressed a kiss to his hair before murmuring, “I’m gonna hit the head. Be right back.”

Bittle looked up at him with wide, stunned eyes, and it wasn’t until Jack was in the bathroom, washing his hands, that he realized what he’d done.

How could he just kiss Bittle? And it wasn’t just kissing him casually, in front of other people, but Jack had done it without thinking at all! Was he losing his mind? Was he getting sick? Had his hunger really rendered him so delirious?

Stomach churning, head spinning, Jack wandered back into the living room, feeling dazed and confused. It took him a moment to realize Bittle was no longer speaking with Boring Econ Dude #1, who had moved on to a group of well-dressed, stern-looking women. In fact, Bittle wasn’t in the living room at all.

Warning bells went off in Jack’s head, and he slipped around the edge of the room and peeked into the kitchen – the place in any home or apartment that drew Bittle like a moth to a flame.

Jack almost shouted when he first glanced into the small room. Bittle was leaned back against the counter, Jason looming over him, the two of them talking quietly and tersely. Jason really was a big guy, built like a brick wall, and Bittle shrank away from him in the most heartbreaking manner.

But then Jason grimaced and held up his hands in a placating gesture, face twisting into something guilty and ashamed. Bittle’s look of apprehension faded, and he very tentatively reached out to pat Jason’s arm.

Though not as on edge as before, Jack still decided it was time to intervene. “Everything alright?” He asked, marching up to slip an arm around Bittle’s shoulders. Despite his earlier stiffness, Bittle practically melted into Jack’s chest; through the thin fabric of his shirt, Jack could feel Bittle shaking.

“Yeah,” Jason said, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I was just apologizing to Eric. I, uh, realized that maybe I came on a bit too strong in class today.”

Jack said nothing, just nodding and pulling Bittle a little closer. Jason paused for a moment, as if waiting for Jack to agree or reprimand him or maybe even yell. When Jack did none of those things, Jason continued.

“Yeah, it was really out of line,” he said. “My best friend, Timmy, he really let me have it after I told him. And he was right – he’s always right…” Jason sighed. “So, really, again, I’m sorry, Eric, for being so…aggressive, I guess.”

Still shaking slightly, Bittle smiled. “Thank you, Jason. That means a lot, really.”

“Anyway, I have to say, you guys are really sweet together,” Jason said. Jack could feel Bittle stiffen again, but Jack let himself smile. “We’re always looking for people for our trivia team – we play every Wednesday at O’Flannery’s, you’re both welcome to join us. We always need help with history questions,” he added, smiling at Jack.

“That sounds fun,” Bittle said in a non-committal tone. Jack nodded in agreement. “We should probably be headed out,” Bittle continued, yawning a little. “Someone has an 8 a.m. lecture tomorrow.”

Jack shrugged. “It’s an interesting class.”

Bittle rolled his eyes. “Classes are only interesting if you’re awake for them, sweetheart.”

Jason laughed. “I don’t know how you do it, man. I would’ve flunked out of it by now.”

“It’s a history class,” Bittle said, as if that explained it all. At the look at Jason’s face, he added, “Jack’s very…passionate about history.”

Maybe it was the deliriousness that came from standing so close to Bittle, but Jack was almost certain he heard something else in Bittle’s voice as he said that. Insinuation, perhaps. Innuendo.

This party had been a terrible idea.

“Thank you for having us,” Bittle said. “Please, keep the rest of the mini pies, I made them just for y’all.”

“Thanks, Eric,” Jason said. “Jack, it was nice to meet you. Hope you two can join us for trivia sometime.”

“Sure thing,” Bittle said, and all but pulled Jack from the kitchen. A minute of goodbyes later, and he had them both out of the apartment and speed walking down the street.

“Bittle,” Jack said as they sped away from the party. “Bitty, wait.” He reached out to take Bittle’s hand, halting his forward momentum.

“Sorry, was I going too fast?” Bittle asked, not quite meeting Jack’s eye. “It just got so cold out, I thought I’d have more of a beer jacket tonight, sorry-”

“Are you okay?” Jack asked. “You’re still shaking.”

Bittle looked down at his hands and, for the first time, noticed the trembling of his arms. “O-oh, yeah, I’m fine, Jack. Um…”

Wordlessly, Jack shepherded Bittle over to the curb, sitting him down. After a moment’s hesitation, Jack shed his jacket and draped it around Bittle’s shoulder, just in case any of the shaking was from the weather. Bittle inhaled deeply, eyes squeezed shut, and let out a long, ragged breath.

“I never thought…” Bittle scrubbed at his face. “I never thought I’d have to be worried about other gay guys,” he said softly. “Like, girls are afraid of straight boys, that’s a given. I’m afraid of straight boys. But he was just so big and pushy, there really was a moment where I was back in seventh grade and the football team was throwing me into that stupid closet again. And I’m so relieved Jason apologized, that I was right and he just didn’t know what he was doing, but…the next one could be different.”

Jack didn’t know what to say – sure, he wasn’t Ransom-and-Holster-sized, but he was a big dude who played a very violent sport. Jack had never been afraid that he couldn’t win a fight. So he cautiously wrapped an arm around Bittle and pulled him in, letting him tuck his head under Jack’s chin.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Bittle said softly. “I don’t know why I was so insistent on coming to this stupid party – it was so boring and Jason’s not my favorite person. I guess I was afraid of what would happen if…if I didn’t. If he got mad and cornered me after class. I don’t know, it’s stupid…”

“It’s not,” Jack said. “It’s not stupid. You felt safest coming to this party with one of us, so of course I came. I’ll always have your back, Bits.”

“Thanks,” Bittle whispered. “Ugh, I’m glad that’s over with. I’ve never met a group of more boring people in my entire life, and I grew up going to church with the Whitacres – let me tell you, those folks could talk your ear off all day ‘bout drywall, I’m not even kidding. Family business, and all that. Dull as dishwater.”

Jack laughed. “Yeah, they were pretty bad, even by my standards, and Shitty tells me I’m the ‘epitome of boring white dudes.’”

Bittle scoffed. “You are not boring, Mr. Zimmermann. Certainly not like- oh, shoot, what was his name? Michael? Matthew? The one who just kept quoting different Founding Fathers whenever that cute, redheaded girl walked past.”

“The one who was talking about Game of Thrones?” Jack asked.

Bittle laughed, smacking a hand against Jack’s chest. “Oh! No, no, he was talking about the Walking Dead.”

“Are you sure?” Jack asked, grinning. “I thought he mentioned Ned Stark at least once.”

“Tony Stark,” Bittle corrected. “No, wait, that’s Iron Man. Oh, shoot, was he talking about Game of Thrones? I was so spaced out, I think I asked him about the zombies! Are there zombies in Game of Thrones?”

“I have literally no idea,” Jack said, and they both burst into laughter.

“Oh, lord, I can never talk to any of those people again,” Bittle said with a sigh. “I can’t even remember their names. What a disaster of a day. At least I can sleep well knowing Jason probably won’t become my stalker and that you, sir, are as fine an actor as your mama.”

Jack quirked an eyebrow. “That’s quite a non sequitur.”

“Not really,” Bittle said. “You did such a good job pretending tonight – I was such a mess, I don’t know how it would’ve gone if you’d been as awkward as me. If you get bored of hockey, you should take your mother’s career for a spin, see how it treats you.”

“Bittle…” Jack could feel his heart beginning to race again, the strange haze of having Bittle in his arms clouding his judgement. “I’m a terrible actor. I was cast as a tree in a school play once, and I was so bad at it that I was demoted to rock.”

Bittle’s hand flew to cover his mouth. “Oh, no,” he gasped, stifling laughter. “Oh, Jack, that’s horrible.”

“No, it’s hilarious,” Jack said seriously. “But I…I wasn’t acting tonight.”

“What?” Bittle pulled back a bit, staring up at Jack incredulously. “Is this one of those ‘what is art’ debates? ‘What really constitutes acting?’ Pretending to be my boyfriend counts as acting in this situation, Mr. Zimmermann-”

“I mean it, Bittle,” Jack said, looking down at his knees. “It was all just…natural.”

Bittle was quiet for a moment. “Natural?” He finally asked, voice hesitant.

“When I kissed your head,” Jack said, grimacing a little. “I didn’t mean to do that. It just felt…”

“Right?”

Jack looked up to see Bittle staring at him, mouth parted, eyes hopeful, so he let the deliriousness of the evening take over once more and leaned down to kiss Bittle properly.

“Oh,” Bittle said, voice breaking, as Jack pulled away. “That’s…natural.”

“Like breathing,” Jack whispered.

Bitty surged up and captured his mouth again, squishing their noses together almost comically. It was awkward and unrefined, but Jack was almost certain it was the best kiss of his life.

“Do you wanna get dinner?” He asked, pressing his forehead against Bitty’s. “Camilla recommended a place today – like, a date-type place.”

“Did she, now?” Bittle asked, smile teasing. “I’d love to, Jack.”

“Great.” Jack leaned down for another kiss, and another. “I’m glad you didn’t bring Ransom tonight.”

Bittle grinned. “You know, I’m starting to feel the same way.”

“I guess you won’t be needing that legion of handsome boyfriends anymore,” Jack said as he stood, holding out his hand to help Bittle up. Bittle took his hand and did not let go, even as he began to walk back to campus.

Bittle smiled at him, blindingly bright. “Who needs a legion when I got the best one?”

#anna writes things #zimbits #canon divergence #check please! #omgcp fanfic #otp: hit me like a ray of sun #fake dating