#while on campus i began exploring the library in the hopes of finding stuff to read that wasn’t related to my major. i discovered the

[fowlblue]

An excerpt from Hostage: The History, Facts & Reasoning Behind Hostage Taking by John Griffith that reminded me of Fowl Senior. While, admittedly, such issues both with balance and steadiness of his hands would likely stem primarily from the physical trauma he was subject to and the lasting impacts on his health, that last line does strike me in regards to the recovery time he would have spent both in-hospital and those first few weeks/months after returning home.

#how does one return to the world when for so long said world consisted of a single small room and bed? very slowly and with some difficulty. #artemis fowl #fowl senior #while on campus i began exploring the library in the hopes of finding stuff to read that wasn’t related to my major. i discovered the #section pertaining to crimes and criminals and picked up two books on hostage-taking as at the time I was also skimming over TAI. i got a #few weird looks lol. but a lot of it did indeed remind me of Fowl Senior.

[prose-for-hire]

UC Sunnyhell: Part five

Hello Jealousy!

Previous part // Next Part

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: College AU. Part five of eight. Spike is the campus bad boy with a secret soft heart. Spike realises something as he faces more time without you.

Warning: I think only like a little sex reference on this one.

Original request by: @sunflower-stan​

Other tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @harpersmariano @artsymaddie​ @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard​ @cameo-greaves​

You began to get comfortable around Spike. More so than you ever believed could be possible. He let you in more and it made you want to allow him to know you even more.

You were getting on well. It was strange and you hadn’t really been able to express it to your other group of friends but you really found yourself enjoying his company. He was sweet in a kind of gruff way. He never really showed much emotion on his face other than a scowl before now. But now you were getting to know him more, you could sense subtle changes in his demeanour.

Like how he was much more comfortable when he was at home. When he was in your company now he could almost… relax. You could both be yourselves in a way you never truly felt with anyone else.

Today you were trying something new together. You were sat in his room. A place you had never been invited before. He even opened the windows so you didn’t asphyxiate from the smoke fumes that appeared to cling to every piece of furniture.

You looked around it, smiling at the way it just screamed ‘Spike’. It was pretty dark, even with the curtains open.

You and Spike had been writing. Together. It was strange and very new but you found yourself enjoying it so much. To have a friend that understood. A friend that wanted to explore life through writing. Through words that can describe complex emotions that you would otherwise never be able to capture properly. To discuss it with him, even if you were doing most of the talking, it was so pleasant.

You would pause every so often and share little lines or swap and read through the other’s work and both be desperately nervous for the other’s approval. Neither of you need worry though, you were so entranced by the others mind. You hoped this would become a regular thing, it was special.

However there were other things clouding your mind. It was getting closer and closer to the presentation and you and Angel were out together more frequently. You were making sure to drop some good words in for Buffy here and there. You found yourself getting on quite well with him, you often found him reading while he was waiting for you. Sometimes you spoke about the book if the both of you had read it. He was a lot more sensitive than you had guessed upon first meeting.

It was actually really nice getting to know this popular frat guy, much more so than you had expected to be. You knew what Buffy saw in him. He wasn’t necessarily your type though. Although what your type was, you were still yet to realise. It still hadn’t quite clicked yet to you.

The presentation was on your mind a lot, you were still working on your confidence despite you now being a frequent performer at the open-mic nights. Luckily, you had your friends to distract you. You were sat with your group at lunch. You had all been laughing really loud. You had been laughing so hard your tummy began to ache. None of you could stop it, your humours matched. It was infectious. As soon as it began to die down, suddenly one of you caught it again and sent a wave around the rest of them.

Eventually the laughter died down as different people had different places they needed to go. The others had to go but you and Cordelia didn’t have any more classes for the rest of the day. She was going to cheer practice in an hour and you would go to the library or something when she did so you didn’t look like a complete loner (although nobody would have really been bothered if you had just been sitting alone).

Talk, as it so often did when it was you and Cordy, turned to mindless gossip. You enjoyed it usually she knew pretty much everything about everyone. But today, her sole focus was on Xander. She was complaining about how she couldn’t help that she got a lot of attention from people because she was so pretty. She like being pretty, she did it on purpose but Xander didn’t enjoy the way people would stare.

“So, why shouldn’t people appreciate me if they like the way I look?” She complained with a pout.

“I get that” You offered, nodding along. You were a good listener and Cordy liked this about you.

“Well, Xander doesn’t! Someone even looks at me and it’s like, hello jealousy, y’know?” You nodded along as you usually did, not realising how pertinent this phrase was about to be to your own life. You usually switched off from the conversation when Cordy spoke about Xander. They were so hot and cold no matter what advice you gave her she tended to do the opposite anyway. They weren’t particularly bad for each other they just got hung up on stupid stuff.

Thankfully, Cordy gave you a reprieve. She stopped the conversation, looking up with the meanest expression she could muster. You frowned, looking behind you. Revealing none other than Spike standing behind you.

He had come over to say hello to you. Bracing the cruel eyes of the canteen to get to you. You couldn’t help smiling, it brightened up his day to see you react that way at seeing him.

“Go away, you’re looking at me!” She scowled at him, trying to shoo him from your table as if he were a stray dog asking for scraps.

“Don’t worry, young dumb and full of-” Spike had started and you mimed at him pleadingly not to finish that sentence. To both yours and his surprise, he did. He cut himself off and changed tac, “-stupid thoughts… isn’t my type”

“Oh, God, why is he even speaking to me?! Shut up Spike your type is, like, anything that moves”

“Listen here you stupid bint-”

“No, you listen here you punk reject! Nobody wants you around here, look at yourself! You’re so gross”

You cringed at what they both said. Not knowing what to say yourself. You stayed silent and this was suddenly noticed by them. They looked at you for support and you groaned. This wasn’t working out. One wrong move and the other would try to cut you out of their lives. They both had reputations for being mean but they were both nicer to you than most. You wanted it to stay that way. You valued both of their friendships.

“I, uh, have somewhere to be. Please don’t rip each other to shreds” You offered, suggesting that you weren’t picking a side as you slid everything from the table and into your bag and hurried off.

After this, Spike had decided the fact that you didn’t side with Cordelia was a good sign. He so wanted to see the obvious good in you. Have you as a friend he could rely on. Share his time and his thoughts with you. His mind. Having you in his room, to himself, speaking those words he had started to want to hear more and more of.

You had been lying on your bed when he knocked on the door. It had been less forceful than his usual knock and it made you frown. Almost as if he was nervous to enter. You sat up, calling for him to come in if he wanted. He entered, with something in his hands. He stumbled over his words as soon as he stepped into your room.

“I, uh, found these… they’re really stupid. But I, uh, though you might like ‘em” He said, thrusting the plastic bag into your hands and looking away immediately. You peered into the bag, gasping in excitement.

Old movie scores. Musical numbers. Soundtracks.

Your eyes watered at the thought. To have a friend that thought about you. Wanted to make you smile.

“They were cheap” He shrugged, as if you had stopped this way because of the quality and not as how special this gesture was. How much it meant to you.

You threw yourself at him, getting overexcited in the moment and tried to hug him. He stiffened, his body completely rigid as you did. He didn’t know what to do with him self. In one sense, he was beside himself. Couldn’t shake the elation that you had wanted to hug him. On the other, he was embarrassed. Wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.

He wanted to reciprocate the feeling, the warmth of the embrace, but he was still afraid that any show of vulnerability could open him to ridicule. Could make you jeer at him. His hands moved to hover over your body for a moment before they briefly contacted your skin.

You pulled away, his hands now lingering slightly now as you did. He almost felt as if he wanted to pull you back in for another hug. But… that would be absurd. Right?

“You wanna listen to them with me?!” You asked, an excited smile on your face. He couldn’t resist. He rolled his eyes but then nodded softly as you selected one to play.

Spike was sat in the shared living space. One that you both now truly shared. Spending your evenings laughing and making fun of something dumb on tv or just talking. He loved it when you leaned in to turn the set down so you and him could just talk. You had done this well into the night on several occasions.

He shouted for you from where he was sat on the sofa. He asked if you want to watch something on the box – that you can study or whatever later. He turned and saw that you were dressed up a little more than you usually would for lounging around the house. He subtly scanned his eyes along your form as he spoke.

“We goin’ to a party, love? Type with, say, free booze?” He tried his luck but you shook your head. He couldn’t help feel such acute disappointment that you had rejected it so quickly.

“No, just meeting a friend” you explain softly. You didn’t mention who it was, that you were going to have a drink with Angel and talk about your presentation. You knew how much Spike hated Angel. And you didn’t owe him an explanation about where you were going anyway. He never told you. So... why did you feel a little guilty to leave him this way?

You shrugged. Instead, you waved your goodbye with a little smile that he was beginning to find endearing.

He frowned at the idea of you leaving, something was bugging him and he couldn’t figure out what. He didn’t want you to go out and leave him lonely. He valued your friendship so much. He wanted you to come back and spend the evening with him. The way he usually pretty much always chose to stay in with you.

The feeling had been there for a while now, building up in his mind. He hadn’t even identified it until it had started to push itself to the forefront of his mind. He frowned but shrugged. Turning back to the tv for company.

It had been a few weeks since you went out for that evening and Spike had noticed you had been really busy lately. Instead of your time being his, spent in the house like you usually would, you had been out almost every day.

And, when you weren’t out, you were smiling at your phone. He caught you laughing out loud once. It made him tense his jaw. Mutter under his breath. You barely looked up to the tv anymore when you were sat together, let alone at him. Not that… he needed you to look at him, obviously. You hadn’t written together for over a week though either. You were busy messaging people he would insist he was too cool for.

It bugged him to no end though. That even in his company you would rather be talking to other people. He almost felt as if he wasn’t enough. As if you wanted to be away from him despite your insistence that he was someone you now considered a good friend.

On one rare occasion you deigned to stay in with him (an evening you had enjoyed more than any in that week because you could finally relax). It had gotten too much for him though. His annoyance that you had been using your phone so much rather than giving him attention he had started to crave. He ended up checking through your phone.

You had just left it lying there while you went into your bedroom to get something – what was he supposed to do?

He swiped it from the arm of the chair where it had been left. He opened it up and scrolled through your messages. Finding something that made his stomach drop. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

Angel. You were sat beside him but texting Angel. Sending him smiley faces and sweet replies. He tensed his jaw, a stone in the pit of his stomach. This feeling he couldn’t name weighing him down.

He had become suspicious. Of your intentions. There was a weird distance when you thought you had become friends. It made you a little upset. You didn’t know whether to broach it with him, you wanted to just enjoy your time with him.

Another evening and you were going out again. The library and then some dumb party after. Spike hadn’t caught where or he would have crashed. He knew how nervous you could get. Wanted to make sure you came back safe. 

Came back to… him. 

He frowned. That was a weird thought. Still, he shrugged it off and looked back towards you. He didn’t realise how much he had needed a friend. No, not just any friend. You. He couldn’t get over just how much he enjoyed having you around.

“Don’t go” He had whispered as you left, it was inaudible to you. He frowned at himself again. At the way he heard the pleading note in his voice. About how much that sentence really meant.

He refused to think about it. To delve deeper inside. To get why he had thought this. He just couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he lit up a cigarette and walked to the liquor store. He planned on taking the bottle to bed with him tonight rather than some cheap imitation of…

You frowned as you walked. Wishing you could spend time in and feel that bond you had started to become so sure of with Spike.

He drank to forget. His loneliness. The fact that he didn’t have you this evening. He found himself looking forward to every moment you would spend together. Just talking. Laughing.

Another afternoon rolled by where he had been staying in in the hopes of you being around the house too. The roles appeared to have switched since you began to get to know each other. Ever since he had found a real connection, a proper friendship, he had wanted to cling to it. 

But you were now more popular than ever, having to split yourself between so many people. Because they all saw in you what he did, how kind you were. How nice it is to be in your company.

“Alright, pet?” 

“Yeah, you know. Busy” You sighed. If you were honest, you would be pleased when the presentation was over. All this work you were doing, evenings and afternoons you were spending away from home. Not to say that you weren’t friends with Angel but being out so often when you were used to staying in was starting to exhaust you.

When he saw that you were going out again his face dropped. You were packing up your bag with all of the stationery you appeared to have a never-ending stock of. He was planning to ask if you were running a black-market, coloured-highlighter export on the side.

“Date?” He asked, the tone was light but his face was tense.

“Yeah like I would have time for that!” You smiled at him and he scoffed.

“Yeah, m’sure Angel would love seein’ your vast stationery collection”

“What? Is that a euphemism that my mind isn’t dirty enough to understand?” You aimed for a teasing joke but as soon as you said euphemism and assigned it to talking about Angel, he got even more tense. Launching into his petty review of Angel’s character.

“Yeah, well maybe he is popular and has somethin’ going for him but-but he has a massive forehead a-and stupid hair”

“Okay, childish. Do you want some crayons to keep yourself occupied while I’m out?”

“Don’t get smart, don’t suit you” He quipped which made you smile a little but his face was sullen. He wasn’t in a good mood with you again. And you didn’t properly understand why.

“Why don’t we write tomorrow?!” You said excitedly, “I have the entire afternoon free… maybe we can do what we did last time?” You smiled in his direction, your enthusiasm making the corners of his mouth tug into an almost-smile. But when he saw you begin to leave as you spoke, he said something else.

“Yeah if you got time in your oh so busy life”

“Offer’s there! I’ll see you later”

“Yeah, whatever” He said, slouching in his chair which made you sigh a little. You would be in a gloomy mood for the rest of the evening now that he was in a bad mood with you. You cared so much about what he thought and felt now, it was so strange.

He carried on this way for a while even though you mentioned several times you and Angel had been paired up together and were only ever working on the project. Hinting that you really wouldn’t be spending so much time out otherwise. 

Angel was friendly and nice to you but the long silences were hard to navigate at times. There just wasn’t that effortlessness you had when you were with Spike. He had annoyed you a little because what with all of his commitments you had ended up doing more than your share of the workload because of his busy schedule.

Spike had began to withdraw himself from you a little. It made you sad, this man who you had been forming such a strong bond with. Exploring this supportive friendship you suddenly had. Was suddenly turning his back on you.

He wasn’t really sure why he was in such a bad mood with you. He knew you had a presentation. He had given you a bit of help when he saw how much of a workload you had on. He had also seen Angel’s name on the form next to yours so he knew the reason you were spending so much time with Angel.

However, what neither of you really understood at the time was that Spike’s insecurity was winning over. He was comparing himself to Angel because he had so much of your time. Made him feel less-than. It made him believe that you probably felt that way too.

He couldn’t help his insecurity. The way it festered in his chest. Why would you want to spend time with him when there was someone like that you got on with so well?

His snide comments and tense nature was worrying you still. He thought he had been slick but you had seen him put the phone back onto your chair as you returned to the room that evening. You weren’t so bothered, you weren’t hiding anything it just meant you put a lock on your phone when you realised.

He had asked about your day and you told him. You had mentioned Angel all of once and yet it was the only part of your day he was thinking about.

“Oh yeah, and did you and Angel have a bloody brilliant time? Did you have a right giggle and skip through the merry streets-”

“What is going on with you? Why are you being like this?” You finally confronted him, you just wanted your friend back.

“Not being anything. Just tellin’ you what’s what” He shrugged, avoiding your eye contact.

“You’ve been in a horrible mood ever since I started my project – I can’t help that I’ve got so much going on! I swear with Willow’s blood-drive and Xander’s basketball games as well as Buffy’s parties and all of my work I have no time to even think for myself!”

“Well, at least your priorities are set, right pet?” He said, this time the bite in his voice was evident. He hadn’t even made the list. He wasn’t even on your mind as someone you wanted to spend time with was all he had gotten from your sentence.

“What that I can’t be friends with you if I’m friendly with them? With Angel?” You said this pointedly, you could tell that was why he had been so weird now, “It doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Uh… about our friendship” You realised the way you had phrased it may have sounded a bit ambiguous and so you added the latter part. He just stared at you. Stopping dead.

But he hadn’t stopped because of the awkward way you covered your sentence. He stopped because those words made him want you to mean that. That you would want to be in a relationship with him.

It was like a switch turning on. Those words. He was finally understanding it.

“Yeah, well, whatever” he just shrugged, adjusting the leather duster back on his shoulders before storming away.

But the conversation you had was still swirling around his mind. He finally realises why he’s being like this.

It all made sense to him so suddenly. Hit him in the gut.

The way he had enjoyed the interactions with you, even if you had been arguing. How he had acted with you in mind, to get a reaction. Even if it was anger. The way he couldn’t take his eyes off you in the room. Positioned himself closer to you. Wanted to spend all of his time with you. Had begun waking up earlier to spend more time with you. The way your words, your writing appeared to fill up his soul. The dreams he had about you…

“Oh balls!” He muttered throwing himself down onto his bed, “I bloody love them!”

He was aching under this realisation. His heart near-beating for you. His mind always on you and what you were doing. The idea of you being with a man that wasn’t him made his skin crawl. Made his mind fog with red mist.

He wanted to hold you. To catch your lips with his. Show you exactly what you meant to him. Wanted to have you with him more, sharing your hearts and minds. God, he made himself dizzy just lying there in bed thinking about having you that way. In every way.

The day of your project suddenly came and he did say good luck for it beforehand despite all of his weird behaviour. He knew that it meant a lot to you. It went well and you and Angel were so relieved. Neither of you were the best at that sort of thing, but you were definitely getting better. Your project was finally over and you and angel remained fast friends. Also, he had a thing for Buffy too you had never been more sure of it.

Spike seemed to relax when your project was done and your friendship had continued. He hadn’t brought a one-night-stand home in almost a week and even before that there had only been one or two people you had seen recently.

You even asked if he needed medical attention for his wrist because you were sure it was being over-used. You were becoming much more comfortable talking to him about sex. You were becoming so comfortable with him in general.

He threw a cushion at you and muttered something under his breath but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t even try to make an excuse up he just turned back to the soap opera.

You glanced sideways at him, trying to figure him out. You caught glimpses but you wanted more. You wanted to ask and have him tell you about him. His past. His thoughts. But you knew better than to push him. It might make him completely close back up again.

He just gestured with his head towards the tv. To tell you to watch the soap again. You had been caught looking. You snapped your gaze away too quickly. Staring at the tv, feeling a heat rising in your cheeks. You felt something when you looked at him. You couldn’t even begin to understand.

He acted as if he was watching the tv but he wasn’t. He was sneaking glances at you when he thought you couldn’t see. Inching slightly closer in his chair so that he was nearer to you. Wishing he could reach between the space. Embrace you like you had that one time.

He was used to quick sex, one-night stands and getting them to leave straight after. But when it came to you… this was so new. This feeling – he was sure of it. He was intoxicated by you. You were in every thought. Every waking moment. And in his sleep too.

The dreams he would have. He wanted you. He really wanted you. Only you.

#UC Sunnyhell #Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike x you #Spike imagine #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #gn #gender neutral

[annab-nana]

It’s Just Not My Thing - Peter Parker

Empire State University looks like the epitome of all things Valentine’s Day which just so happened to be your least favorite holiday. In fact, you hated the day and with good reason, so Peter plans something special to get you away from all the love and hearts.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day @jellyfishbeansontoast! This is my gift to you from @killingbxys and @earthlyholland’s Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange! I tried to add little details about you that I’m sure you’ll notice hehe and side note: this is the longest thing I have ever written so I really hope you guys like it!

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 12.3k+ (kinda sorry, kinda not)

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

“God, it looks like Cupid threw up here,” you groaned as you looked around at the campus that surrounded you when you and Peter walked out of the main science building. Splashes of red and pink and small bits of purple littered the outsides of all the buildings around Empire State University and the walkways were heavily decorated as well.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled from beside you when he caught sight of the disgusted face you made on upon noticing the immense amount of love-centered holiday décor. “ESU really outdid themselves,” he mentioned, his brown eyes falling upon the pink and red twinkly lights that were twisted together and spiraling around the trees. Heart-shaped balloons swung beside the entrance of the dorm across the way. People had drawn on the sidewalks with chalk several little hearts and flowers, words of love written in the same hues as everything else. Even in the water fountain at the center of everything, they had turned the lights pink giving the water a rose tint.

“A little too much,” you shuddered after speaking. Valentine’s Day was very obviously not your cup of tea when it came to holidays. You never understood why people needed a whole day to show their love and appreciation for their significant other when it was really something you should be showing your person every day. It also bothered you a little because you never had someone to show all your love to on the damned day of hearts and flowers. The one time you had a boyfriend for a long period a couple years ago, you two broke up on February 13th so that only further encouraged your hatred for the day. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

Peter chuckled from your side at your dramatics, amused by your clear disdain for all things red and pink that surrounded you as you walked. That was one thing he loved about you. You always brought a smile to his face no matter what you did. He could come to you after a stressful week of tests or after a bad night on patrol and you would make him laugh and feel better within seconds. You did not even have to say anything. Maybe it was just your aura or your presence, but it made his mood rise tenfold.

“Why do you hate Valentine’s Day so much anyway?” he inquired. You two had only become friends since college, meeting in your biology class last semester after you asked if someone was sitting in the free seat next to him on the first day. Sitting next to each other led to snide remarks about your professor to each other and asking questions when things didn’t make sense. One day, he asked if you wanted to study with him for the first test at the library and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to spend more time with the cute curly-headed boy from your biology class. That opened the door to more study sessions and then sometimes y’all would study at the coffee shop across the street. Soon those turned into hanging out at the coffee shop and somewhere along the line, you two became really good friends.

“Valentine’s day just isn’t really my thing, you know bad experiences and all. I also don’t really like how it’s being shoved down our throats,” you told him simply, gesturing to the sheet signs that some of the sororities had made and hung up. You shrugged slightly before speaking once more. “I just don’t like it.”

Peter nodded slowly and you could visibly see the gears turning in his mind. You really knew he was thinking hard when he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue and his cinnamon brown irises danced around at everything in front of him. His eyebrows drew together as you both continued your walk to the coffee shop, and you could not watch him anymore without knowing what was going on in that big, beautiful brain of his.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, Parker? I’m scared you’re gonna exert yourself if you think any harder,” you giggled when the words fell from your lips. He let his lip go from its captivity between his pearly whites and his eyes found you again, his signature smile showing on his face.

“I just had an idea,” he mentioned before leaning across you to press the button on the pole to signal traffic that you two were about to walk across the street as soon as the light changed. It was your turn to furrow your brows, but you did it in confusion instead of hard thinking.

“And would you like to share what it was or leave me in mystery?” you inquired with a quirked brow. He playfully rolled his eyes at you before beginning with his idea.

“So, this is just a thought and we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but what if we got out of the city for the weekend?” he proposed before he noticed the light change from an orange hand to the white outline of a man, signaling him that it was okay to walk. He looked both ways still before his hand found your lower back and he guided you across the street with him.

“Just you and me? Why?” you questioned further as you tried to ignore the warmth you felt inside you at the small but kind action he had just shown you.

“Well, you obviously hate Valentine’s Day so we could get away from all this stuff,” he told you as he gestured back towards the floral-colored campus that sat on the other side of the street.

“That I do,” you nodded in agreement as Peter pushed the door open for you and let you go in first. The overwhelming scent of coffee hit your nostrils like a train when you fully entered the building, Peter close behind. The coffee shop was always slightly busier on Friday’s but today was a bit much. The line was basically backed up to the door, leaving you and Peter squished against each other and the door. Somehow, y’all’s favorite spot in the corner was still available. “Do you want to stay here or go to the library?”

“We can stay if you want. You can go ahead and sit down so no one else steals our spot and I’ll get our drinks,” Peter suggested into your ear after you turned in the small space to face him properly.

“Okay, I want a-” you started but your words were cut off by the boy with who you were sharing your personal space at the moment.

“A hot chocolate with no whipped cream with those little marshmallows on top. I know. I got it,” he chuckled as his hand rested on your shoulder for a second. “Now go sit down before someone takes our spot.” You rolled your eyes at him before turning around and sitting in your seat, placing your book bag in the opposite place just in case someone tried to sit with you.

A few moments later after you and Peter shared a few glances while he waited in the lengthy line, he finally got to the counter and began to order your beverages. You had pulled out your laptop to see what all you needed to do over the weekend and surprisingly, there was not that much to do in comparison to the last few weeks that had been hell and you never really caught a break. Now it looked like you might be able to take a breather and do something fun rather than being holed up in your room writing a paper or studying for a test. All you had to do before Monday was two quizzes and a quick essay and you would be all done.

“Your hot chocolate ma’am,” Peter spoke jokingly as he presented the heated beverage to you. You rolled your eyes, taking the cup and setting it on the table.

“Shut up and sit down, Parker,” you quipped before moving your book bag so that he could do as you asked of him. He smiled at you and took the seat that he always sat in every time you both came to the small coffee shop.

“I don’t even know why you come to a coffee place so often if you don’t like coffee,” Peter mumbled as he took a small sip of his drink, grimacing as he pulled away when the caffeinated liquid was too hot to handle at the moment.

“For starters, that bean juice is disgusting. I don’t know how you drink it. Secondly, it doesn’t do anything for me as far as waking me up or getting me energized. Third, they make really good hot chocolate. And lastly, this is our spot, Peter. Of course I am going to come here all the time,” you informed him while you opened up a blank document on your computer, setting the font to Times New Roman, twelve-point, and making sure it was double spaced before you began typing your two-page essay on why technology is important and how it helps us every day. “Tell me more about this idea you were talking about earlier.”

“Oh yeah.” The boy across from you perked up and took another sip of his drink, forgetting that it was still too hot and burned his tongue. “So, this is what I was thinking. We finish all our schoolwork so that we have all weekend free. We can get out of here and find some place to explore, you know? Like we could find a hotel and just look around and go to new places. It would distract you from all the Valentine’s Day stuff and we could use the break from school since we’ve both been so busy lately.”

“I like that. Let’s do it! All I have is this small paper, our chemistry quiz, and a trig quiz and it shouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours,” you said with a smile, excited for this weekend trip with your best friend and away from all things Valentine’s and school-related.

“I just have the chem quiz that I was waiting to do with you, so I can look for a place to go and a hotel,” he stated while sipping on his now cooled down coffee.

“Sounds like a plan.” So, then the searching began. You’d glance up at him from time to time to see his eyes trained on his computer screen, nodding his head as he read whatever information he was taking in from the device. The way his eyebrows were furrowed and how focused his brown eyes were on his laptop was a little funny to you, but you also thought it was cute. While you were watching him, his eyebrows shot up and his eyes diverted to you. “What?”

“I found the perfect place,” he told you with a big grin.

“Well tell me where, you idiot,” you chuckled but he shook his head, not quite ready to give you that information just yet.

“No, it’s a surprise,” he spoke softly as he typed at his keyboard. He then pulled out his phone to dial a number and put it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you pondered aloud, tilting your head at him.

“There are two hotels near there so I’m calling one right n- Hi, I was wondering if you have any rooms open for this weekend.” He paused to let the person on the other end talk but based on the way his shoulders slouched, you could tell that this one was a bust. “Okay, that’s fine. Thank you. You have a nice day.”

“No luck?” you asked though you knew the answer. He shook his head at you before looking back at his computer screen. “You going to call the other one?”

“Yep,” he sighed as he brought his phone back up to his ear and waited for someone to pick up. “Yes, hi. I was wondering if you had any rooms available for the weekend.” He shot you a smile when you heard the mumbles of whoever was on the other line, so you assumed it was good news. “Yes, it is two people, and we will be staying tonight, tomorrow night, and Sunday night.” You heard more mumbles from the other end before Peter’s voice cut them off. “Okay, we will take it! Thank you, sir.”

“That went a lot better,” you chuckled at the boy’s wide grin.

“Yeah and we’re lucky too because he said that was the last room they had.” You nodded at him as you finished up your paper.

“Proofread this for me? You always catch things I don’t,” you asked him when you turned your laptop towards him. He gladly took it and quickly skimmed over it, typing here and there at your misspellings or overbearing use of commas that he always picked on you about.

“Looks good. Ready for the chem quiz?” You nodded your head as you both opened the quiz and began to take it together.

...

“So, we’re leaving tonight?” you asked Peter as you both left the coffee shop after being there for a few hours. The sun was beginning to set behind the buildings of ESU and it made the campus look so pretty from across the street where you two stood, waiting your turn to cross.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go to our dorms, pack enough for a few days, then we’ll leave. It’s about two hours outside of the city so we will get there at around ten if we leave within the next hour and we’ll probably stop somewhere for dinner too.” You nodded along to Peter’s words as his hand found your lower back again to lead you across the street when the light changed.

“You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you Pete?” you grinned at the boy while walking next to him as you two approached the central water fountain, the lights illuminating it an even brighter shade of pink in the darker time of day.

“Of course I do. Anything for my best girl,” he chuckled when his arm slipped around your shoulders and pulled you into him. That nickname didn’t come often but it always brought butterflies in your tummy, but you knew there was nothing really to it. Did you really want something more with your best friend? Yes and no. You didn’t see a future with anyone else, but he’s your best friend and you also couldn’t see him and you in a romantic kind of relationship. Well, you could but you didn’t think it would ever happen, so you’ve pushed it into the depths of your mind.

After passing all the lovey-dovey shit that somewhat led to this whole weekend getaway, you both made it back to the dorms. You both went up to the fourth floor and parted ways at the elevator since your dorms were in different directions. Upon entering your room, you quickly emptied your bookbag of all its books and school things so that you could put some clothes in it.

“What are you doing?” your roommate, Raelyn, asked as she leaned against your door frame.

“Peter and I are going on a trip for the weekend,” you told her before you walked past her to get to the sink, grabbing your toothbrush and other things you needed from that area.

“Ooo where to?” she perked up. She was always so interested in your relationship with Peter, waiting for you and him to finally get together. She honestly thought you two were together a long time ago but was disappointed when she found out that you were not.

“I don’t know. He said it’s a surprise. All I know is that it’s about two hours outside the city and there are two hotels near it,” you filled her in as you packed the items that were just in your hands into the smaller pocket on your bag.

“A surprise trip where you stay in a hotel with Peter?” she gushed while wearing the biggest grin.

“Calm down, Rae. It’s just me and Peter going to explore some place to get away from school and all this Valentine’s shit and speaking of Valentine’s, what are you and Florence going to be doing?” You changed the subject effectively and watched the girl’s cheeks flush at the mention of her lovely girlfriend. They have been together for a few months now and this was their first Valentine’s Day together, so you knew she was excited. The girl loved love and she loved Florence, so this was perfect for her.

“We’re going to recreate our first date,” she spoke softly as she watched you go into the bathroom to get your shower things.

“Didn’t y’all do like a cute little picnic on a cliff and stargaze and stuff? Flo’s gonna love that,” you grinned at Rae while she childishly bit at her bottom lip to keep her smile from growing too big.

“Yeah, she’s making chocolate covered strawberries and I’m gonna go down to her favorite bakery and get some goodies as well. It’s gonna be a night to remember for sure,” she giggled before tucking some loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear. “I was actually putting together a little scrapbook for her when I heard you come in, so I’ll let you finish packing for your Valentine’s trip with Peter-“

“It’s to get away from Valentine’s, Rae,” you corrected her as she playfully rolled her light-colored eyes at you.

“Anyway, I am going to get back to what I was doing, and you have fun with Peter. Be safe and use protection!” she shouted when she went back to her room.

“We won’t need it!” you yelled right back.

“Y/n, you dirty girl!” she joked, causing you to groan and roll your eyes.

“Not like that, you dumbass. You are starting to sound like his aunt!” She just laughed in return and you finished your packing when you heard a knock at the door. “I’ll get it!” you shouted as you slung your bag onto your shoulder.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Peter asked when your eyes met his. You nodded your head before turning to say goodbye to Rae.

“Bye Rae. Have fun with Flo this weekend.” You shot her a wink and she giggled as she taped a heart to the corner of a picture of the two together on the page of the scrapbook she was currently working on. “You too! Bye y/n. Bye Peter!”

“Bye Rae!” Peter said loudly before you shut the door behind you and followed him out.

...

“How much longer?” you asked, getting antsy. It was almost ten and you really wanted to know where you would be spending your weekend.

“Like ten minutes. Chill out and eat your pringles,” he chuckled as he pointed to the green can of pringles that he had gotten you earlier when he stopped for gas. You huffed before grabbing some chips, placing a few in his opened hand, and keeping some for yourself. Peter kept one hand on the wheel while he munched on the chips you had given him in his other hand. You capped the can of pringles and leaned your head against your seatbelt a little.

“Okay, we’re here,” Peter told you as he lightly shook your shoulder since you were nearing sleep. You stirred a little, looking over to him while he unclicked his seatbelt and leaned over to do yours as well.

“Thanks,” you mumbled before bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe the small bits of tiredness out of them, ignoring the slight fluttery feeling that took over your stomach at Peter’s action. You got out, slipping on your jacket that you were using as a blanket in the car to shield yourself from the crisp air of the cold February night. Both of you grabbed your bags from the back seat before Peter locked the car behind him and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him to provide some warmth for you both.

The hotel looked more like a large home or mansion, older looking too but it had a charm to it. It gave off a cozy and welcoming feel and you have not even entered its doors yet. Peter pushed the door to it open and let you in first, him following soon after. It looked even more comforting and homey on the inside as well. It was clearly a family business as there were family pictures hung upon the wall and the couches that sat around a small coffee table reminded you of your grandparent’s house, making you feel more at home.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the sweet voice of an older lady broke you from your thoughts when you looked over at her. She wore a pale yellow apron tied around her waist and a gentle smile upon her lips. You sent her a kind grin as well before Peter turned to you.

“You go sit down. I know you’re tired. I’ll handle this, okay?” You nodded at his words, an insuppressible yawn escaping your lips when you turned to go sit on one of the couches you noticed earlier and resting your head on your hand.

“Hi,” Peter started as he walked up to the front desk that the lady stood behind. “I talked on the phone earlier with a man. He said there was a room available for two.”

“Oh yes, that was George. Let me go get him right quick.” Peter nodded nicely at the woman before she left through a door behind the desk. He turned around to look at you close to sleep again. He didn’t notice the small smile that crept onto his face, but it was definitely there.

“He will be right here in just a second,” the woman spoke softly when she noticed the way Peter was looking at you. “She’s as cute as a button that girl. I’m sure you love her very much.” His head tilted slightly as to what the lady was referring to, but he shook it off.

“Yeah, I do.” He meant it in a friendly way, but the woman clearly thought he meant romantically based on her next words.

“Y’all make an adorable couple. I’ve loved seeing young lovers pass through here over the years. It’s cute.” Before Peter could protest her words, a man, George assumingly, walked in through the door that the lady went through earlier.

“Mr. Parker?” he asked as he searched on his computer for a moment.

“Yes, that’s me,” he chirped, feeling slightly awkward about the woman’s assumptions but did not let it bother him too much. Of course, Peter loved you and he would love to love you in that way, but something always held him back. Fear probably as he wouldn’t dare risk losing you as a best friend. You’re his whole world and if he confessed how he felt and it ruined your relationship, he would hate himself for it.

“Alright, you paid online, and everything is set for you. Here is the key and we hope y’all have a nice stay,” he grinned while passing over the key that had a red heart attached to it. So much for staying away from Valentine’s related things. The heart read ‘214’ so Peter took that as the room number.

“Thank you and have a nice night,” Peter returned the politeness back before turning to go get you. The sight of you sleeping was absolutely adorable to him and made his heart soar. You had shifted from leaning on your hand to hugging your book bag and leaning against that instead. He hated that he had to wake you up when you looked so precious.

“Hey, y/n,” he whispered when he crouched down in front of you and lightly shook your arm. You stirred awake, your tired eyes meeting his big brown ones, and hummed in response. “I’ve got the key. Let’s go upstairs and you can go back to sleep.” You nodded as you stood and stretched before slipping your bag back onto your arm.

“Good night you two! Y’all have fun,” the kind woman you smiled at earlier spoke softly as she shot you a wink and waved you two off. You and Peter both waved back to her and sent sweet smiles her way before you headed up the stairs, choosing to ignore her playful but peculiar gesture. After making it to the second floor, you let Peter lead the way as you leaned into him, his arm where it always was wrapped around your shoulders.

“Okay, I think this is it,” Peter announced when stopping in front of a door numbered 214. You yawned and nodded while watching him fiddle with the key that had a heart charm dangling from it. You found it to be quite cute, just another little thing to add to the allure of this whole hotel. After a second, Peter finally turned the key and opened the door, letting you go in first like the gentleman he always was. He stepped in behind and flipped on the light switch, illuminating the room that was decorated in a way you both least expected.

You busted out laughing at the sight before you. A rather large white circular bed sat against the wall which was normal, but the rose petals that littered the sheets were far from what you were thinking when it came to sharing a hotel room with Peter. Red curtains covered the windows, a large red chair sat in the corner by a tv, and candles sat on the bedside tables. The light that Peter had turned on was quite dim compared to normal lights but was perfect to set the mood for a couple looking to have a fun night which you and Peter were not. You turned to look at Peter whose cheeks were the reddest thing in the room and only laughed a little harder, tears springing to your eyes.

“Y/n, I am so sorry. I was trying to get you away from Valentine’s stuff, not bring you somewhere intended for it. God, I am an idiot. I’m so sorry, you gotta believe me,” he rambled on as you gripped onto his arm to steady yourself, your laughter making your knees weaker. You leaned your head against his shoulder, continuing to giggle but also trying to calm yourself down.

“P-Peter,” you stuttered through chuckles and took a deep breath to calm your laughter before looking up at him. “Peter,” you repeated a little more seriously and stared into his eyes with your tear-filled ones. You could tell he felt so bad, but you did not mind the room that much. It was really funny to you honestly. “It’s okay. This is okay. It’s hilarious actually so lighten up and laugh about it, but this is alright. We needed a place to sleep and this works so we’re good.”

“People have probably had sex on that bed,” he groaned before his eyes flickered over towards the petal-covered sheets and then back to you.

“People would have fucked on any bed at any hotel. Did we get the bed that a lot more people have probably had sex on? Yes, but I’m sure they changed the sheets and cleaned up.” Peter shuddered at your words before pouting again. “What?”

“I feel bad,” he muttered as he looked around at the room and then back to you, the girl who wanted to get away from campus because it looked similar to this. You sighed before wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, nuzzling your head under his chin.

“It’s okay, Pete. It doesn’t bother me, and we only have to sleep here. We have got a whole place to explore tomorrow and Sunday, right? So, don’t worry about the room. So far, it has been the highlight of my trip,” you told him before lifting your head up to look at him, a grin on your lips.

“You’re the best, you know that?” he mumbled, squeezing you tighter against him.

“Yeah, I know,” you joked just to hear his amused giggle, making your words worth it.

“Are you okay sleeping together or I can sleep in the big chair if you want?” Peter asked when he pulled away from you. You rolled your eyes at the boy before you.

“Peter, we’ve slept together on those tiny ass twin beds in the dorms. I think we can handle sharing the bed. It’s much bigger and probably much more comfortable as well,” you mentioned as you walked to the bed and sat your bag down on it, ruffling through your things to find your charger. “Unless you’re scared of the sex that’s been had on it,” you teased, wiggling your brows at him tauntingly, “then the chair is all yours.”

“Shut up,” he quipped when he followed your actions and rummaged through his bag for his clothes. “Are you showering tonight or in the morning?”

“The morning. I am too tired to shower right now,” you spoke and yawned as if on cue.

“Great so I’m spending the night with a stinky girl,” he joked while your jaw dropped.

“I do not stink,” you playfully pouted while slipping your hefty jacket off your arms.

“Well,” he shrugged as if he was trying to tell you that you really smelled bad without hurting your feelings.

“Peter!” you frowned, crossing your arms in front of you.

“I’m kidding, y/n. You always smell nice,” he reassured as he collected his clothes and walked towards the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. You took the opportunity to pull out your pajamas which was an ESU sweatshirt and some pink pajama pants you had stolen from Peter. As soon as you heard the water start, you changed and pushed the rose petals to the side, letting them fall to the floor before you hopped in bed and got comfortable under the covers. Though for some reason, you were not as tired as you were previously and couldn’t just fall asleep as easily, so you got on your phone for a moment. Not long after, the water shut off from in the bathroom and a damp, curly-headed Peter Parker emerged from its door.

“The bath is shaped like a heart,” Peter told you before he walked over to his bag to set his dirty clothes beside it.

“You’re kidding,” you giggled, setting your phone down next to you to properly look at him, his wet curls making you feel some type of way though you wouldn’t show that.

“I’m not,” he chuckled, running a light hand through damp hair. He walked over to the light switch to turn the dim light off before he walked back to the bed and climbed in next to you.

“You really got the lover’s suite, didn’t you? You know you could’ve just asked me to be your Valentine. I probably would’ve said yes,” you teased the boy who you laid beside, hearing an exasperated sigh leave his lips.

“It was the only room they had,” he protested while you turned to face him, though you could not see much in the darkness. “And probably? You better say yes if I were to ask you such a question.”

“I’d say yes, you dumbass. We were likely to spend Valentine’s Day together anyway. We’re together all the time,” you pointed out and he hummed in response.

“Yeah, you’re right, but you really aren’t mad about this? I planned this whole thing to get away from all the hearts and flowers and love and stuff,” he brought up, shifting in bed to face you as well. You could hear the worry in his tone, so you reached out your hand to find his and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles.

“You also said it was to get away from school and take a break. We’ve both been busy bees these last few weeks and we needed this, so don’t worry. The room is fine,” you spoke calmly. Though you could barely see in the dark, you could just hardly make out a smile on his face, or at least you could feel the presence of it.

“Now that I think about it, it makes a lot more sense as to why that lady downstairs thought we were a couple,” Peter thought out loud. You chuckled thinking about how she winked at you and told you to ‘have fun tonight’. Silence overcame you both and you let go of Peter’s hand to turn the other way to hopefully fall asleep.

“Hey y/n,” Peter mumbled after a while of no speaking.

“Yeah,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly towards him.

“Can I ask you something?” His words filled the void around you, and it was all you could hear. He sounded serious, but not like it was something about him but more of a curiosity question.

“Of course,” you muttered, laying on your back and facing the boy.

“Earlier when I asked why you hated Valentine’s Day so much, you mentioned something about bad experiences. Can I ask what that was?” You knew it was your curious Peter just asking a random question as it normally was, but you understood why he used an earnest tone.

“Yeah, I, uh, used to date this guy my senior year of high school and I was like head over heels for him. We had been dating for almost ten months and then the day before Valentine’s Day, I found out he cheated on me with my best friend at the time, so I lost the two people I loved and trusted most all in one day. The last few months of high school weren’t fun, and I was ready to get to college so I applied to ones that I knew they couldn’t get into. That led me to ESU and then I met you,” you explained, “and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

“Oh y/n. I’m sorry about all that. I know that had to suck,” Peter softly spoke before his hand found yours to help comfort you this time.

“It’s okay. It was high school, so I kinda expected it to be hell. I was just lucky enough that I didn’t have to experience the hell of it until the very end. And on the bright side, I have you and Rae and Florence is becoming a good friend of mine too so it worked out for the better.” Peter repeated your actions from earlier and rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand in a soothing manner.

“Yeah, that’s a nice way to look at it,” Peter mumbled while drawing little circles into your skin. The motions of it had brought you a sense of great peace and comfort and were helping you feel sleepier. You were getting closer to a nice long slumber when you felt him pull his hand away.

“Wait, give me that back. It was helping me go to sleep,” you whined. Peter’s chuckle sounded throughout the room before his hand found yours again and began the circular motions with his thumb on your hand. With that, you were asleep in seconds.

...

You were slightly awakened when you felt something move on top of you. Then the fact that something moved on you made your eyes shoot open because last you checked you fell asleep with nothing on you, but now there was definitely something there. You also realized you felt something around you as well. When you opened your eyes, you saw the brown shade of Peter’s nest of curls resting on your chest and put together that he cuddled into you in his sleep. You lifted your head slightly to look at the clock that sat on his nightstand and saw that it was almost nine, so you decided to get up and shower, letting Peter sleep in a little longer. Slowly, you tried to slip out of his grasp without waking him, but as soon as you tried to move, his arms pulled you in tighter. Chuckling lightly to yourself, you tapped at his arm.

“Uh, Peter,” you whispered softly. He stirred a little but did not wake up. “Pete, I need to get up.” He squinted one eye open and saw what you were talking about.

“Oh yeah uh sorry,” he stammered while lifting his body off you. You smiled and rolled your eyes as you slipped out of the warmth and comfort of Peter and the bed to get some clothes for the day. Peter rubbed at his eyes before turning in the sheets, placing his face into the pillow, and trying to fall back asleep. Heading to the bathroom, you chuckled at the boy and opened the door. Once your eyes fell upon the heart-shaped bathtub that Peter was talking about last night, another giggle escaped you as you thought about the events that happened before you fell asleep. Only Peter Parker, the smartest person you know, would get the lover’s suite on a trip to get away from all that stuff.

“You ready?” Peter asked once you were all showered and dressed, appearing to be ready for the day that you knew nothing about.

“I think so,” you told him as you followed him out the door, shoving your phone into your jacket pocket.

“Good morning lovebirds. Did the lovely pair have a nice night?” the lady from the previous  night asked you both when she saw you two coming down the stairs.

“Yes, we did, Mrs. Milly,” you answered, completely disregarding the ‘lovebirds’ part, as you read the name that was printed on the different apron she was wearing today. “I love your name. I have a cat named Milly.”

“Aww thank you, but you can just call me Milly or Mildred. Whichever you prefer,” she spoke kindly as she sat in the desk chair.

“I like Mildred,” you mused, leaning against the counter.

“Thank you,” she grinned at you before she asked, “How long have you two been together?”

“Oh, we’re n-“ Peter started but you cut him off with the jab of your elbow into his side, the whole action being shielded from the older lady with the counter.

“Six months,” you answered before turning to Peter who gazed at you in confusion. “Isn’t that right, Pete?”

“Y-yes,” he agreed, nodding at Mildred. She smiled warmly at you both before speaking again.

“Well, I won’t keep you cuties any longer. Y’all probably have a whole day planned.”

“That we do. We’ll see you later, Mildred,” you told her as you and Peter both waved at her before leaving the cozy hotel.

“Uh what was that?” Peter asked as soon as you two got in the car.

“What? Why I elbowed you?” you questioned, reaching up to grab your seatbelt and clicking it in.

“Yeah, and why you pretended we were dating,” he stated while placing the keys in the ignition and turning them, the car roaring to life in response.

“Do you really want to explain to that poor old woman that you’re a dumbass who got that room for a weekend with his best friend?” He instantly saw your point and did not bother arguing any further. “Yeah, I also didn’t want to break her heart because she really seems to like us, even if that may be as a couple.”

“That makes sense,” he hummed, pulling out of the parking space and beginning to drive on the main road.

“So where to Parker?” you asked since you had literally no idea what he had planned for the day.

“Okay so there’s a little diner between here and the nearest town, so I was thinking we go to the diner for breakfast, then there’s a cool science museum that looked interesting and it has a planetarium too so we can check that out. There is a somewhat rundown mall that looked like something you’d really like. There’s a really pretty park too that we can go to. Does any of this sound good or should we go somewhere else?” Peter asked when you had stayed quiet throughout his whole explanation.

“No Pete, it sounds perfect. I’m really excited,” you said with the hugest grin on your face.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he chirped before further explaining some more things that y’all could do.

...

“The planetarium was the best part for sure,” you told Peter as you walked beside him in the mall he brought up earlier. There were a good bit of people there for a place that was considered to be rundown or abandoned, but it was probably just one of the attractions of this lovely town. While some of the shops were closed, others were open and the food court still had some running businesses as well. The whole building itself was older but the inside was pretty alive and well. It was an interesting sight to see. “So where do you want to eat for lunch?”

“You pick,” he stated quickly. He always let you pick, but this time you didn’t want to.

“No Peter. You have planned this whole trip and made me happy. You pick lunch at least and you know food’s on me since you paid for the hotel so don’t even try that.” He chuckled lightly at your words before his big brown eyes scanned his options for your next meal. His options were limited to a Chinese restaurant, a pizza place, and a soup and sandwich spot.

“I think soup and sandwiches would be pretty good,” he mentioned as he met your eyes to see if you agree. With a quick smile and nod, it was evident that you did agree so the two of you walked toward the small soup shop and got in line behind a few other people.

“So, I was thinking that for the rest of the day, we could…” You let Peter’s words drown out as you looked around at the people that you could see outside of the window that showed the mall. Several different shoppers walked around the old place, but the back of someone in particular looked oddly familiar to you so your eyes darted to who they were talking to and that person was more familiar than you would have liked. The face of someone you had hoped you would never see again stood across the mall and your eyes basically bulged out of your head. On instinct, you grabbed Peter’s arms and shifted his body to stand between you and the guy, hoping he did not catch your gaze.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Peter’s soft and concerned voice broke through your thoughts for a moment before they resumed. How? How could this be happening? You tried so hard to get away from him? And of course, you would find him on the same day he broke your heart two years ago.

“I- yeah. I need to hide and it’s either you stand there and block me, or I go under that table,” you told him, giving him not a clue as to what was going on. Peter slowly turned his body to look at the source of the problem and you caught his eyes, the blue ones that you used to think everything of staring right back at you. “I used to eat playdough under the table as a kid,” you blurted out, your hand quickly slapping over your mouth at your sudden confession.

“What?” Peter mustered, a small smile cracking on his face in amusement.

“Sorry, I say random things when I’m nervous. You know that,” you reminded the curly-headed boy who stood before you with a teasing grin illuminating his features.

“I do know that, but seriously. Playdough?” You slapped at his chest when he laughed at your despair. Out the corner of your eye, you could see your ex and his friend wrapping up their conversation and it appeared like he was leaning towards your direction and anxiety filled you.

“Stop, this isn’t funny. Laugh about that later but right now I need a favor.” Peter’s giggles subsided at your serious tone and he was attentive to whatever you needed. “Act like my boyfriend.”

“What?” he questioned, dumbfounded with wide eyes.

“Just put your arm around me and make me laugh or something,” you instructed of him. Though it was normal for him to have an arm around you, he was a bit hesitant to it now but nonetheless, his arm found its normal spot around your shoulders, nice and friendly.

“No Peter. God, you’re helpless,” you sighed before you grabbed his hand that rested on your shoulder and placed it on your waist. A light dusting of red scattered upon Peter’s cheeks when you leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

“He’s here. That guy I was looking at, that’s the reason I hate Valentine’s Day so much.” He nodded understandingly at your words when you looked up at him and his thumb absentmindedly began to rub against your waist, the minuscule action bringing you much comfort. On your way to put your head back down on his shoulder, your eyes caught the blue ones again and you saw him say goodbye to his friend and step in the direction of the soup shop. Your breath hitched and only one thing came to mind as a way to get him to leave you alone or give him some hint that you weren’t available.

“Peter, kiss me,” you half asked, half told him while his eyebrows shot up and brown eyes widened.

“Wha- y/n, I don’t know,” he stammered, gazing deeply into your eyes to make sure you were being completely sure about this, not joking or pulling some funny shit. “This doesn’t seem-“

“Shut up and kiss me,” you spoke sternly before your hand found his cheek, cupping his beautiful face. Your eyes darted between his for a bit of consent and he slightly nodded so you went for it. Your lips connected with his while his other arm wrapped around your waist as well, pulling your body closer to his. Your free hand found the nape of his neck, trailing upwards to thread your fingers through those soft brown locks of his. Kissing Peter was something you never really saw yourself doing, but it was nice. He was surprisingly good at it and he seemed to be enjoying himself as well.

“Next in line,” the man behind the counter repeated himself since you two were too involved with each other to hear him the first time. You both jumped apart, Peter too in a trance to understand what was happening while you grabbed his hand and walked up to the counter.

“Oh sorry, hi! Can I get a cup of broccoli and cheese soup and a grilled cheese? Peter, what do you want?” you asked him, lightly tugging at his hand that you held.

“Uhh,” he stammered as his eyes trailed over their menu but he couldn’t focused on reading the words after what had just happened. “I think I’ll have the same.”

After you ordered and paid, you two found a spot to sit and finally had to face what had just occurred. Peter’s eyes were trained on you while yours were darting all around to see if you could find your ex, but thankfully, the coast was clear.

“He’s gone,” you sighed before meeting Peter’s gaze. “Thank god, I hated that,” you chuckled before pulling out your phone to scroll mindlessly through it.

“I mean I didn’t think it was that bad, but it has been a while since I’ve kissed someone so I-“

“No Pete,” you breathily laughed. “I hated him being here, not the kiss. You aren’t half bad, Parker.” His cheeks tinted pink at the compliment and yours warmed up a fuzz as well. Before you two could continue the conversation, someone came up to your table with your food.

...

“You two must have had a busy day. I haven’t seen you two since nine this morning and it's almost eleven now,” Mildred stated warmly when you and Peter walked in through the front door, chuckling about a deer that was staring at him funnily before y’all came in.

“We did,” Peter grinned at the kind woman, walking behind you as you stepped up to the desk. It was something about this woman that you loved, and you felt like you could talk to her about anything. She just had a cozy aura about her that matched the hotel’s atmosphere perfectly.

“Yes, we did. We went to the science museum, the planetarium, the mall, a park, walked around the town a bit, and then we watched The Sound of Music at the theater,” you explained to Mildred.

“Oh, I love that movie,” she gushed with a wide grin, her eyes just as wide as she took in your words. You could tell she genuinely loved hearing about your day and she truly was a really sweet lady.

“She does too. It’s one of her favorites,” Peter spoke from beside you, your eyes meeting his when your lips curved upwards at his thoughtfulness.

“You both are so precious! And I am sure you are tired too, so I won’t keep you any longer. I should head to bed myself. Good night y’all,” Mildred told you, her words followed by a yawn as she stood from the desk chair.

“Good night,” you and Peter said simultaneously before Peter’s hand found the small of your back, leading you towards the stairs.

“I really like her,” you told Peter when you made it to the top of the staircase.

“Mildred? Yeah, she’s a nice lady,” Peter agreed as you both walked towards your room, his hand still guiding you there.

“She reminds me of a really nice grandma and it’s a plus that she has the same name as my cat,” you chuckled while Peter’s hand left your back to place the key in the door.

“We should go visit Milly some time. I haven’t seen her in a while,” Peter mentioned, swinging the door open and letting you in first.

“Yeah, I miss her and she probably misses you too. She really liked you and so did my dad which was surprising,” you chuckled before flopping down onto the circular bed, the replaced rose petals jumping up when your body hit the mattress.

“He did? He did not act like it. He actually scared me a bit,” Peter told you as his hands fumbled through the contents of his bag, looking for something to sleep in. You let out a yawn after nodding to answer his question. “I assume you’re showering in the morning again?”

“Yeah,” you yawned out as you rolled over to find yourself some pajamas. “Let me brush my teeth before you get in there, okay?”

“Okay, but you’ve got ten seconds,” Peter teased, eyes gauging your reaction.

“Not all of us have superpowers, dork. I can barely get my toothbrush ready in that time.”

“Twenty seconds,” he offered like that was somehow better and you rolled your eyes before walking into the bathroom.

“I’m gonna brush them slower than I ever have before, so you’ll just have to wait.” It was his turn to roll his eyes at you, knowing you were lying. While you glided the toothbrush over your teeth, you heard Peter yell something from in the bedroom.

“Ew!” he shouted and that was followed by the sound of something falling.

“What?” you asked while still brushing your teeth when you walked back into the room. Peter’s face showed nothing but pure disgust and a slight embarrassment as he pointed down into the open drawer of his nightstand. Your eyebrows furrowed when you walked over to the scene to see a pair of fluffy red handcuffs in the drawer. While laughing, you rolled your eyes at Peter. “You wanted the lover’s suite,” you joked, turning to go back to the bathroom.

“It was a mistake! He said they only had one room left and you would think on Valentine’s Day that this one would be taken but obviously not. I am never going to live this down, am I?” Peter exasperated as you finished up in the bathroom.

“Sorry Pete, but no. This is the funniest thing and I will never let it go. Wait until I tell Flash in physics Monday,” you told him while exiting the bathroom. He wore a frown when he passed you, trudging on his way to take a shower. Unlike the night before, you were able to fall asleep pretty quickly after you changed and got in bed.

...

This morning, you did not wake up with Peter on top of you. You were in fact cuddled into him, your arm around his torso and head against his chest, but you were far too tired to care or move.

“Are you awake?” Peter whispered upon feeling you move slightly.

“No,” you mumbled, hiding your face in his chest. His laughter sounded above your head before he spoke up again.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think our plans for today have been canceled. It is supposed to rain really badly all day like practically monsoon out there, so we’re stuck,” he muttered into the space around you. At that moment, you did notice the sound of the pattering rain outside the window.

“That’s okay. We can just have a movie day like we normally do on Sundays and we can sleep in a little more if that’s okay with you,” you spoke with your eyes closed, really dreading waking up since the comfort of the bed and Peter felt too good to leave.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he softly spoke, his arm that sat around your waist tightening for a second.

“Do you want me to move?” you muttered before picking your head up to look at him. You knew your hair was all over the place, but you didn’t have a care at all for its tangled state. Peter’s lips turned upwards into a soft smile as his hand came up to push some of that hair behind your ear.

“I don’t mind. You can stay if you want,” his gentle voice spoke, calming and sweet. You nodded your head before laying your head back on his chest.

“Say less.”

After a few more hours of shut-eye, you finally got up since it was nearing lunchtime, but you made sure to leave Peter sleeping. You reached in your bag for those pringles from the other day and quietly tiptoed over to the large comfy chair to sit there and eat chips while you scrolled through TikTok, the volume incredibly low as not to wake him.

“You left me,” you heard Peter’s pouty voice speak from the bed. Your eyes shot up to meet his as you held up a chip.

“You were sleeping and I wanted to eat these without waking you.” Peter rubbed at his eyes and laid back down for a second before his legs swung over the bed’s edge, sitting up. He came to sit next to you, the chair just barely big enough for you both, and stuck his hand in the Pringles can. “Let me see,” he mumbled, referring to the TikTok you were watching so you shifted in the seat so that your back laid against his front, your head on his shoulder so you could watch the short videos together. The both of you seemed to be substantially clingy since waking up, but you both also didn’t mind it.

It had been about an hour or so of sitting there, eating chips, and laughing at tiktoks before one of you checked the time.

“Shit, it’s already one o’clock,” Peter mentioned as his eyes flittered back to you after looking at the clock.

“Really?” you asked before you checked the time on your phone. “I guess you’re right.”

“Are you hungry? I’m not after the pringles,” Peter asked as he looked down at you still rested against his shoulder.

“Yeah, me neither,” you added, “so we can stay in our pajamas a little longer.” You stood from the chair you shared with him and went to the window to look outside. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was gonna monsoon out here. It’s basically flooding,” you announced after pushing back the red curtains to get a better look. Peter hopped up and followed your previous footsteps, standing behind you and peering over your shoulder. A huff came from him before his head plopped onto your shoulder, you looking down at his grumpy expression and trying to suppress a giggle.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can have a super fun movie day. Cheer up buttercup,” you chuckled as you kissed his cheek. You had never done anything like that before with him but felt bold in the moment. It was just a harmless little kiss and meant nothing, so there was nothing wrong with it in your eyes. When you pulled away, he wore a face of pure surprise as he watched you walk over to the remote. “Let’s find something to watch and we can sit in the chair or lay around in the bed and it will be really fun, okay?” Reluctantly, the still-shocked boy nodded his head before crawling into the bed. You followed suit and channel surfed until you found a Star Wars movie, the perfect thing to lift his spirits.

About an hour into it, you were beginning to get cold. You started to realize why each of you gravitated towards the other the past two nights. It was to seek out warmth and now you really wanted to cuddle up next to him, but you felt weird for asking that and you definitely were not just going to do it on your own.

“Y/n, your teeth are fucking chattering. Get over here,” Peter spoke up at the perfect moment. You hesitated for like a second before sliding into his open arms and wrapping yours around his torso.

“My teeth weren’t chattering, asshole,” you quipped as you relaxed against his body, finally feeling warmer.

“No, but I could tell you were cold and I was a little too, so I decided to fix both our problems.” You giggled against his chest before your eyes settled back on the TV screen, watching Leia talk to her brother. After watching one of his favorite movies, y’all watched one of your favorite movies which was Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkaban, and then a couple of Grey’s Anatomy episodes until you heard Peter’s stomach rumble beneath your ear.

“Maybe we should go get something to eat,” you suggested with a giggle as Peter’s cheeks reddened from embarrassment. “You could’ve told me you were hungry.”

“Yeah, but I know how much you love this show and I was going to wait until the end of this episode before saying something,” he told you while you sat up from his embrace. “Do you have anything in mind about what you want to eat?”

“Not really,” you answered when you stretched, reaching your arms up towards the ceiling. “All I know is that I don’t want to change, but I don’t want Mildred to pick on me for these,” you told him as you pointed to the pink pajama pants you have worn the last two nights.

“Hey, Mr. Stark got me those and you seemed to love them the one time you wore them so I gave them to you,” Peter explained as he sat up himself. “And I doubt she’d pick on you for those. She’d probably say you look cute in them or something.”

“She does think we are cute, doesn’t she?” you smiled, thinking of the nice old woman downstairs. “I’m gonna miss her.”

“I’m sure she’ll miss you too,” Peter chuckled at the fast connection you had made with the woman in a matter of a few short conversations.

“We should make this a tradition. Like every year on Valentine’s, go to a different place and explore or I would not mind coming here just so I could see Mildred and we could always get this room as a joke. I have had a lot of fun this weekend, Peter. This was a great idea,” you told him as you slipped your shoes on and Peter pulled on a dark blue sweatshirt over the hoodie he was already wearing.

“What would we do if we get boyfriends or girlfriends?” Peter inquired, grabbing his car keys.

“Go the weekend before or after. We will still be best friends, Parker,” you giggled at him after you put your coat on and followed him out the door.

“There you two are! I was beginning to think y’all passed out up there,” Mildred spoke as her eyes fell upon your outfits, Peter in a sweatshirt, hoodie, and sweatpants and you in your pajama pants, a sweatshirt, and your coat. “Well did y’all just wake up?”

“No ma’am,” Peter lightly laughed. “The rain kind of ruined our plans so we stayed in and watched movies and now we’re going to pick up something for dinner.”

“Oh, that’s nice! Y’all are just cute as a button in your pajamas. Y’all are probably starving so you two go ahead. I won’t keep you any longer,” Mildred spoke and shooed you two closer to the door. You both said your goodbyes before stepping out the door and onto the porch. Peter wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you ducked your head into his chest before you both ran together towards his car.

“We never decided on where to eat,” you brought up as soon as you both were in the car.

“Oh yeah. What about pizza? Or burgers? Both sound really good right now,” Peter offered, his mouth practically watering before you at the thought of some food.

“Either sounds great to me.” So, he looked up which one was closer and drove to a local pizza parlor. The place was not but fifteen minutes away and since Peter called ahead as soon as you two got in the car, it was ready when you had arrived. All y’all had to do was pick it up and you did exactly that. Now, you were on the way back to the hotel and though you had a warm box of pizza resting in your lap, you were quite cold.

“Are you freezing?” you asked the driver whose brown eyes flickered to yours for a moment before finding the road again, squinting a bit to see through the heavy rain that persisted to fall.

“Yeah, a little.” At the same time, you and Peter both reached for the knob that controlled the temperature of the air that flowed through the vehicle, your hands brushing against each other. Immediately, you both retracted your hands and heat rushed to your cheeks. A second later, Peter reached out again and turned the knob to the right to get some warmer air.

“Um, I think we should talk about something,” the boy announced while something in the air shifted, feeling thicker and slightly more suffocating. You kept your eyes trained ahead of you as well before you spoke up.

“Uh, yeah. I guess we should.”

“Something has definitely changed between us this weekend. We don’t act like the same two best friends that we used to,” Peter mentioned, not sparing you a glance. You looked over at him to see his face, but not even his face showed you any indication of what was going through that pretty little head of his.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, trying to make the conversation a little more light-hearted and less serious. You didn’t see much of a big deal. Yes, you both had been clingier and you two shared a kiss, a damn good one at that, but that was to distract someone who had broken you with no remorse from coming your way. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to think there was more to this and his serious tone frightened you a tad, not really ever being so pensive about anything other than school. “I don’t see an issue.”

“So, you’re okay with cuddling and kisses and stuff like that?” The way he said that and gave you the most incredulous look made you feel as if your presence was not wanted by him. Maybe you were not wanted by him. It wouldn’t be a first in your life. No, your brain fought itself, he wouldn’t have planned all this for you if he didn’t love you.

“We only kissed once,” you stated while his normally soft brown eyes stared coldly through the windshield. “I’m sorry if I messed something up by doing that, but you didn’t exactly fight it, Peter.”

“No, that’s not- never mind that kiss, but the one this morning. You kissed me on my cheek.”

“Because you seemed upset!” your voice rose ever so slightly as you fought your point, a feeling you have never felt about Peter bubbling in your chest. It was a mixture of anger, hurt, and sadness. You were also growing annoyed with the conversation as a whole and were ready to get back to the hotel which was mere minutes away. “I didn’t think there was that much to it.”

“It’s not something friends do,” Peter argued not sparing you so much as a glance or some hint as to what he was trying to get at.

“Why do I feel like you are blaming me for how we’ve gotten closer over the past few days? You’ve been acting awful cozy as well,” you tried to calm your voice a little as you spoke, but you hated being blamed for things, especially stupid things like this. “We’re best friends, Peter. It’s okay to be a little closer than normal. It’s okay to cuddle, hold hands, or kiss each other on the cheek. I will admit that the kiss yesterday might have been a bit much, but all the other stuff is perfectly normal. I’ll back off if you want, but don’t come at me when you have been doing the same thing and initiating it sometimes too.”

“Those are things that couples do. I have never done that with my best friends. Granted, you’re my first girl best friend that isn’t terrified to touch or interact with another person, but that’s beside the point,” Peter said as he turned into the hotel lot and found a place to park. “I’ve only ever done this kinda thing with a girlfriend and we aren’t dating. I couldn’t date you, y/n.”

That last sentence struck a nerve in you. I couldn’t date you, y/n. Why the hell not? What was so wrong with you that he couldn’t date you? The words brought you back to a place you were a couple years ago when everything that made you hate today happened. You were so easily replaced by both your boyfriend and best friend. You were never really wanted around by them, and you hated yourself for not noticing sooner. Well, you did notice, but you had hope that it was all in your head until you were proved otherwise.

Was the same thing about to happen with you and Peter? Were you going to lose the only person outside of your family that you loved and spent all your time with? If he couldn’t date you, then how could he be your best friend? The two things were terribly similar with the only differences being sexual intimacy and a different kind of love. Peter was your soulmate for sure, maybe not romantically, though you had hoped otherwise, but he was meant to be with you. Now he did not seem to want to be near you.

You didn’t recognize it, but tears had pooled in your eyes, not yet fallen though. Your breathing felt different, quicker, and you felt like you were losing all that was important to you, him. You had always hoped that sometime in the future you and Peter would get together. You two had made a pact a while ago that if you hadn’t found someone by the age of twenty-six, you two would start dating and then get married within the following year or two. That idea was now seemingly being thrown out the window since he couldn’t date you.

“Y/n…” Peter sighed, his hand reaching out to grab yours but you were quick to pull it away.

“I thought friends didn’t do that,” you threw his words right back at him before you got out, leaving the pizza in your seat and slamming the door shut behind you. Now that you were in the rain, you let your tears flow since they now just appeared to anyone else as raindrops on your face. You tried to speed walk towards the hotel for two reasons: to get away from Peter and to get out of the rain. However, the damn arachnid abilities of your best friend made him much quicker, his hand catching your arm and spinning you back to face him.

You hated yourself for the thoughts running through your mind. The rain on his face that dripped down his cheeks and nose was insanely attractive, and the water made his curls droop onto his forehead, another thing that made him look irresistible. You wanted to kiss him so badly, but how could you after the last one caused so much damage obviously since it was one of the things behind this argument.

“Y/n, that’s not what I meant,” he spoke, his honey brown eyes darted between your own. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were. Did he think the water droplets sliding down your face looked pretty? Did he think you were pretty? He had commented on your appearance before, saying you looked beautiful on random occasions but now it all seemed meaningless.

“What did you mean, Peter? How else was I supposed to take that?” you argued with the boy. You didn’t care if he could tell the difference between the freshwater drops on your face and the saltwater tears because his words hurt you and he should know that.

“Of course, I could date you. I would love to date you! You are the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid eyes on and I’m still shocked that you choose to hang out with me every day. Why do you think I made that pact about us dating when we’re older? I can’t wait until then because we promised we’d get together. You do not know how much I hope you don’t find someone before then because my only chance to be with you will be gone because I certainly don’t have to balls to ask you out. The only reason I am telling you all of this now is because I’m scared I’ll lose you, y/n. I can’t even bear to think about that right now. I am an idiot and I’m sorry. I’m so sorr-“

“Peter!” you snapped, tired of hearing his rambles as you desperately wanted to feel his lips against your own.

“What?” he asked, brows knitted and eyes locked on yours.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you repeated the words that you said before your first kiss with the boy as you watched a smile grow on his lips. His hands were quick to cup your cheeks as he brought your face to his, lips connecting and a fire ignited within you both. His left hand slid from your cheek down your shoulder and arm until he found your waist and pulled you closer to his body. You gripped onto his bicep with one hand while your other found the back of his head, your fingers running through the dampened curls. A thought immediately popped in your head and you acted on it, tugging on the strands which resulted in his lips parting. Your plan was achieved successfully, and you slipped your tongue into the entrance. He followed suit and after a little bit, you both needed a little oxygen.

“Um, wow. That was um-“ Peter stumbled over his words, trying to muster up the perfect ones to say in fear of screwing up again. “Nice.” You chuckled at his awkwardness, leaning your head on his forehead and looking up at him.

“Yeah, I agree,” you breathed as your eyes scanned all over his features, taking in every bit of this beautiful moment. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Pete.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n,” Peter responded with a grin, happy he could make you see the holiday as a little more enjoyable for you. The sound of his stomach growling interrupted the moment, and a laugh left your lips. “I’m gonna get the pizza.”

“You do that,” you chuckled at the hungry boy as he walked to the passenger side door, swinging it open to grab the square cardboard box. “You know Mildred is going to kill us. We’re out here drenched in our pajamas in the cold.”

“Yeah, she definitely will,” Peter agreed while walking up the steps with you, “but we can do it together.” He held his free hand out to you for you to take which you gladly did, interlacing your fingers with his. You got up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek as well.

“Together.”

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

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[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch.3)

Chapter 3

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 1,905

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...

               The following day found Catalina following Jungkook to the campus library. They had gotten their tests back in French class that day and they both got Ds. Their professor set them up with a tutor, whom they were on the way to meet.

               “I can’t believe we got Ds,” said Catalina. “We studied!”

               “Yeah! We totally studied and it didn’t help us at all,” said Jungkook. Catalina thought back on their study session at her apartment; French textbooks open, bottles of wine scattered about, two full glasses, and the Twilight movies unironically playing on Catalina’s laptop.

               “Yeah we totally studied!” she said.

               The campus library was a huge, old building with towering bookshelves and dark wood furniture. They went down one of the halls where there were tables and chairs set up between the aisles. At the first table was a ridiculously handsome man, who stood up when he spotted them.

               “Well, well, well,” he said. “Look who’s failing his class already in the first week.”

               Jungkook frowned and stopped in his tracks. “You’re our tutor?”

               “Hey! Why are you saying it like that? You should be more like, ‘Oh, Jin! Thank goodness you’re helping me pass my French class, how can I ever repay you?’”

               “I’m assuming you guys…know each other?” said Catalina.

               Jungkook sighed and said, “Catalina, this is Jin. As you can see he’s very old and his dementia is setting in, making him talk nonsense-“

               Jin rounded the table and swatted at Jungkook, yelling, “Hey! I’m tutoring you out of the kindness of my heart and this is what I get?”

               A librarian stuck her head around the corner and shushed them angrily. Jin apologized and gestured to the two chairs across from his.

               “Yeah, I’ve known Jungkook since he was a child,” said Jin. “I practically raised him.”

               “He used to live next door. He babysat me and my brother like, two times,” said Jungkook.

               “So, are you two dating?” asked Jin. “Because I have some wonderful childhood stories to tell.”

               Catalina laughed and said, “We’re not dating, but I’d love to hear them.”

               “Jin,” said Jungkook. “Jin.”

               “What?”

               “I’ll kill you.”

               Jin laughed for several seconds, then sobered up in an instant. “Anyway, let’s get to work.”

               He flipped the French textbook open and began.

               “So, what are you guys having trouble with?” he asked. “Let’s see your tests.”

                 Catalina left the tutoring session feeling a bit better about her French class. As they walked out of the library, Jungkook said, “So, I’m having a party at my house tonight and you’re invited. My parents are out of town for this healthcare conference thing so everyone’s gonna be there. It’s gonna be awesome.”

               “And what do you mean by ‘everyone’?” asked Catalina. She’s always kind of wanted to go to one of those cliché house parties where a bunch of unwanted guests show up and the host is freaking out about their parents’ china cabinet or whatever. Her friends back home were pretty boring, so she never got the party experience.

               “I mean, like, everyone. Like, a bunch of people from my classes and from high school and stuff,” said Jungkook.

               “Okay, I’ll go. It sounds fun,” said Catalina. “Do you think a lot of people will show up despite the people going missing in the neighboring town?”

               “I mean, it’s not happening in this town so…” Jungkook shrugged.

               “Yeah, it’s probably fine,” said Catalina. “Anyway, I’ll come over late tonight. I have homework I need to finish.”

               “It’s okay, the party doesn’t start until late anyway, if you know what I mean,” Jungkook said with a wink. “It’s gonna be lit.”

               “I’ll see you later JK,” Catalina said, laughing. The two of them parted ways, Catalina wondering with trepidation, and also excitement, what the party was going to be like.

                 The party, as it turned out, was not lit. Catalina arrived around ten, after getting most of her homework done with minimal procrastination. There was only one car in front of the house besides Jungkook’s, and no lights on inside. Catalina texted him to make sure everything was alright. He answered, telling her to come to the back yard.

               The backyard was small, a tall wooden fence along the back separating it from the woods. In the middle of the yard were two people sitting in lawn chairs around a bonfire. Jungkook stood up and waved.

               “Hey, you made it!” said Jungkook. He gestured to the bonfire and said, “I told you it’d be lit.”

               Catalina cringed.

               “I’m sorry, that was terrible. I can’t believe I just said that,” he said.

               “I think Jin is getting to you,” said the other person sitting at the fire. Catalina realized that it was Jimin.

               “Jimin! I didn’t know you’d be here!” said Catalina. Jimin stood up and they hugged. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

               “Yeah, we grew up together,” said Jimin.

               “Does everyone in this town know each other?” asked Catalina.

               “I mean…” Jimin started.

               “Kind of,” said Jungkook, setting up a chair for her. They all sat down. “Not really, but this town is pretty small. There’s only one high school so…”

               “I see,” said Catalina. “So, what happened to the party? I imagined like, a big house party with a bunch of people we don’t know, getting drunk and tossing vases around like footballs.”

               Jimin laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair.

               “What? Did you get that from Mean Girls?” asked Jungkook. Catalina nodded. “I don’t know, I guess everyone is “scared” of the “serial killer”, or whatever. They don’t know what they’re missing, because I plan on sharing some great horror stories around the bonfire tonight.”

               “Jungkook, I just want you to know how irresponsible this is!”

               Jin came into the backyard and stood there with his hands on his hips. Another man joined him, equally as handsome. This man was blonde, built, and wore a bomber jacket with patches all over it.

               “There is a serial killer on the loose and you’re throwing a party!” said Jin.

               “Well, you showed up so you’re just as bad. And you brought your boyfriend,” said Jungkook.

               “We are not dating and I am just here to tell you that you should end this right now. We are going to get kidnapped,” said Jin.

               “Catalina, this is Jimmy K, the local bad boy who is all of a sudden mysteriously hanging out with Jin all the time now,” said Jungkook.

               “Local bad boy, I love it,” said Jimmy K. He held out a hand to Catalina to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said with a wink.

               “Oh,” Catalina blushed, caught off guard. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

               Soon, they were all sitting around the bonfire listening to Jungkook begin his scary story.

               “This is something that happened to me when I was kid, and I never told anyone this before, because I was afraid no one would believe me. When I was nine, my brother and I were staying at our aunt’s house in the mountains while our parents were out of town on a relief mission. One day, I went out to explore the woods and do some climbing. I found a big rocky crag, which I climbed, hoping I’d end up at the top of the mountain. It wasn’t the top of the mountain by far, but I did find something else: a mossy trail leading deep into the woods,” Jungkook said, lowering his voice dramatically.

               “When is this supposed to get scary?” asked Jin.

               “Shut up. So I followed the trail. The sun was beginning to set and I knew I needed to head back to my aunt’s house soon, but I needed to see where the trail led to. I wasn’t disappointed. The trail opened up to an old cobblestone driveway, and at the end of the driveway was a huge house. It was old, one of those gothic Victorian houses, all dark brick and carved wood. I could see the sky from the clearing, which told me I had about an hour before it fully got dark. I went to the front door anyway. It was unlocked, so I went inside. There were cobwebs everywhere and sheets over furniture, a real classic haunted house, but I wasn’t afraid, because I knew ghosts weren’t real. So, I went deeper into the house. All of a sudden, the front door slammed shut behind me. I was thrown into darkness. Then I heard a voice somewhere in the house say, ‘Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little boy?’ I was terrified, so I turned around and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The voice was laughing. Finally, the door opened and I ran from the house as fast as I could. I ran back through the trail, climbed back down the rocks and ran. It was dark now and my lungs were burning. Eventually, I made it back to my aunt’s house. She was waiting outside for me, angry. She said, “dammit Jungkook! I told you not to go too far in these woods. There’s monsters out there who eat reckless little boys like you!’

               “And that’s the story of how I found out ghosts are real,” Jungkook finished.

               “That was more like listening to a trauma story than a scary story,” said Jimin. Jungkook took his shoe off and threw it at Jimin, who actually fell off his chair laughing this time.

               “I thought it was a good story,” said Jimmy K, who was listening with interest.

               “Thank you,” said Jungkook.

               “That didn’t actually happen to you, did it?” asked Catalina.

               “Yeah, it did. Minus the cobwebs, sheets, and locked door. But my aunt definitely did say that when I got back. Actually, I remember the real life house being really pretty and not dark, which made me realize that I had just broken into someone’s house. That’s when I ran away. So, who’s next?” said Jungkook.

                 Catalina was running again. They were right behind her. Her heart was pounding in her aching chest as her bare feet thudded against the forest trail. It was close, just a little farther and she’d be safe. The footsteps behind her were getting closer. They were heavy and fast, much stronger than she was. Finally, the house came into view and she threw the front door open. She tried closing it behind her, but the door was too small for the frame and it wouldn’t close all the way. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes. They were going to catch her and she couldn’t do anything about it… Catalina turned around and ran deeper into the house. As she rounded the corner, she found herself in a den, running right into someone. But she wasn’t afraid of this person. She knew she was finally safe here.

“They can’t get you here,” the man said as he held her against his broad chest. She looked up at him. He smiled down with his dimples and perfect teeth. She felt herself melt against him.

But it didn’t last long. Soon, he disappeared and the fire went out in the fireplace, leaving the room in cold darkness. An unfamiliar voice chuckled, the laughter bouncing off the walls to taunt her.

“Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little girl?”

Catalina jolted awake that morning, a scream lodged in her throat.

#bts #bts fanfction #knights of the night #crystalstar #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jeongguk #Jimmy K #namjoon #jin #yoongi #suga #jhope #hobi #jimin #jungkook #captain kirk

[smileyjaeminies]

Call me friend

Synopsis: Your relationship with Jisung is complicated to say the least. How long will you be able to put up with his mood swings and push and pull tactics?

Word Count: 4,1k

Genre: Angst, fxck boy! Jisung

Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking

Member: Jisung, ft. some of Skz

A/N: When I started writing my Minho work, I knew it should be followed up with something about Jisung. I hope you enjoy the mess that is this fic, I surely did!

This work is based on Billie Eilish’s ‘when the party is over’, please listen while you read!

  What began as a slight drizzle, soon turned to a full on downpour. The rain struck harshly on the widows, providing another layer of background noise that blended with the soft sounds of music playing through your speakers. The song was one you were unfamiliar with, but you didn’t have time to think about it too much, all your thoughts surrounding the boy in front of you, the feeling of his arms around you and his tongue exploring your mouth.

  Lighting struck, making a noise too loud for you to dismiss. You jumped visibly, goosebumps standing up on your skin. You broke away from the kiss, raising your head to look out of the window.

  “What is it?” Jisung whispered.

  Your eyes skimmed the world outside, the wind making the trees dance and the rain making little puddles on the streets.

  “It’s nothing” you tried.

  Your voice failed you however and as lightning struck for a second time, you couldn’t repress a small squeal.

  “Y/N, are you scared of lightning?” Jisung asked you, rubbing your arm sweetly.

  You wanted to say no, hating looking vulnerable in front of other people, especially him. With one look at Jisung’s expression however, you knew he had already seen too much to be fooled. A soft nod did the trick, as Jisung graced you with a soft smile before hugging you close to his chest.

  “Do you want me to stay? We can just chill for a while until the storm blows off” he offered.

  “Okay… But we have to watch my ‘I’m having a bad day’ movie.” You tried to bargain.

  “Which is?” he asked curiously.

  “Miss Congeniality” you answered him.

  He grunted loudly, falling back on your bed. He didn’t bother to try to change your mind so soon after both of you were under your blankets watching the movie. You would jump here and there, but Jisung would always reach for your hand to console you.

  You thought you’d be too tense for it, but slowly you fell asleep on Jisung’s side. Waking up the next morning, you found yourself alone in your dorm room. You tried not to be disappointed, but your heart fell when you realized the space beside you was empty.

  He always did this. Always tip- toed against the edge of friendship and relationship. Always promised to stay, only to disappear once you fell asleep. Always went from hot to cold in a second, always managed to lure you back in.

  It had been a few months since the first night Jisung kissed you. You recall the small gasp you let out and how he used it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Since then, you had tried (and failed) to cut it off with him on numerous occasions.

  And yet… Jisung was like a drug to you. You knew he was so, so bad for you, but you couldn’t help sticking to him. So every time he knocked on your dorm door, or took your hand to lead you somewhere more private at a party, you let him. Because you couldn’t imagine a world where you’d say no to him, or at least, one where he would take it.

  As much as it tore you to pieces, this dynamic between you worked. And for every fight, Jisung would make it up to you with a wonderful evening for just you two. Even if he’d ignore you the next day in class. Even if he’d leave.

  You stayed in bed for a while, drifting in and out of sleep and cherishing Jisung’s lingering scent on your bed sheets. He smelled of pine wood, something about a body wash he used all the time. Suddenly, you remembered there was a party at Chan’s that night, a party you were expected to attend, to meet one of Jisung’s old childhood friends.

  You turned around on your bed to face the window. You wondered how Jisung would introduce you to this guy. Probably just a friend. A friend he frequently kissed and spent the night with. A friend he shared breakfast with and knew their order at McDonald’s. Just friendly stuff... Right?

  It was high time you headed to the library to get some work done. You got ready and walked the short way from your dorm to the campus’s coffee shop, to caffeine up and get to studying. On this Saturday morning, everyone seemed to be rushing to the library, and you couldn’t really blame them. With midterms coming up and deadlines soon approaching, everyone had their own load of work to get done.

  You chose a table near the window and set up your things. Opening the half-done word document, you let out a long sigh. This assignment was due soon, but you simply hated working on it. It was partly the reason you had texted Jisung the previous night, you needed a breather. Usually, he would be the one to reach out for whatever crappy excuse, only to come to your dorm and steal away moments of comfort.

  You shook your head, trying to shake away your thoughts as well. You did your best to concentrate and get at least some work done. After a few hours of furiously writing down information, writing and re-writing your thesis, you could safely say your mind was turning into mush.

  Running a hand through your hair, you let out a sigh before getting back to work. As you tried to word your argument better, you felt a soft touch on your shoulder, and someone pressing a kiss on your cheek. You jumped and were about to snap, when Jisung plopped down on the chair next to you, giving you his signature gummy smile.

  Your anger evaporated immediately, as you smiled back at him.

  “Hi, gorgeous” he greeted you.

  “Thanks for the heart attack” you whispered back.

  “You looked so cute, I just couldn’t help myself” he answered, resting his head on his hand.

  And there it was. By doing the bare minimum, he had you wrapped around his finger. And the worst part was, you didn’t even mind.

  You faked being angry, looking away from him and back to your work. He stared at you for a few moments before he spoke up.

  “What time should I pick you up tonight?”

  That was a first. For the longest time, you would arrive separately at parties, despite leaving together each time. You tried to mask your excitement when you answered him.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Just tell me when to get ready.”

  “Does 10 o’clock sound good?” he asked.

  “Sure” you told him, nodding your head but not looking at him.

  “Can I get a kiss?” he whispered, inching closer to you.

  “Nope.” You teased, not tearing your eyes from your books and notes.

  “Y/N” he warned, his voice getting deeper.

  “Hm?” you asked, feigned ignorance.

  And you broke him. He grabbed your face, turning you to face him before connecting your lips. You drew away quickly, as your cheeks heated up. His cocky smile only made your cheeks burn brighter, as you kicked him under the table, murmuring a “Shut up”.

  He got up, holding his aching shin, to place a small kiss on your head.

  “Can you wear that red dress that I like?” he asked.

  “I don’t know… Can I?” you pushed him further.

  He shot you a stern look as he walked away. Tonight was going to be fun, you decided.

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

  A few minutes before ten, you found yourself sitting in front of the mirror, placing a few extra curls into your hair. You were wearing the red dress Jisung asked for, with a set red lipstick and black heels. As you were giving your hair one last look, your heard a knock on your door.

  Standing up to answer it, you weren’t surprised to find Jisung waiting on the other side. He was wearing all black, finishing off his ripped jeans and t-shirt with a black leather jacket.

  “Bad boy much?” you asked him, moving inside to grab some necessary items to put in your purse.

  “Fuck you.” He told you and you smiled at yourself.

  “Not quite yet.” You told him, pushing him out of the door.

  You made your way to Jisung’s familiar car that was parked in front of your building. You drove off to Chan’s place as a random radio station filled the silence in the car. You were humming to the song when you felt Jisung rest his hand on your thigh, which you brushed off as something he did now and again.

  However, when his hand started moving, pushing your dress further up your thigh, you knew you had to intervene. Placing your hand on top of his, you moved it on the center console, dropping it on there. You gave his hand a little pat when you saw it gripping the stick.

  “Behave” you simply told Jisung, who did nothing to acknowledge your words.

  Shortly after, you were parking the car on Chan’s already busy street. The faint sound of music got louder as you walked towards the house with Jisung next to you. Of course he wasn’t holding your hand or anything, simply walking beside you.

  You were about to walk up to the house when Jisung pulled you back. You looked at him, expecting him to say something, but he stayed silent, merely looking at you.

  “What?” you asked him.

  Again, he took a few moments to look at you before speaking up.

  “Nothing. You look pretty” he said simply, holding your hand and leading you inside the house.

  You tried not to think about your entwined hands as you walked in, already faced with a crowd of people dancing, drinking and smoking. You navigated through the well-known house, with Jisung dropping nods and hello’s here and there. You stopped at the kitchen first, where you fixed yourself a drink while Jisung talked to a friend of his.

  You tried to walk to the living room to find Chan, but yet again, Jisung stopped you.

  “Tonight, you stick with me” he whispered in your ear and you tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine.

  He didn’t bother to introduce you to the person he was talking to, only kept you close by holding your waist as you mulled over his words. He didn’t give you enough time though, so you were completely taken aback when he started lightly pushing you to the living room.

  You tried to keep your head straight as you walked in the room, finally finding some familiar faces there. You wiggled out of Jisung grasp to fall into Chan’s arms, thankful to finally be with someone on your side.

  Chan was your connective link with Jisung. You were proud to say he had been your friend first, as he used to live on the floor just above you in the dorms. Through mutual runs to the campus’s coffee shop and running different errands around campus, a friendship blossomed between you, one you maintained even after Chan decided to join a fraternity in his second year.

  He was partly the reason you met Jisung too, although you never held it against him. He was a good friend and always gave you honest advice. He urged you to cut things off with Jisung on numerous occasions, but your reply was always the same.

  “He won’t let me go”

  “Oh, finally” you said, squeezing your friend in your arms.

  “What took you so long?” Chan asked.

  “He won’t let me go. He’s being so weird today, I don’t know what’s wrong with him” you answered.

  Chan shot a quizzical look to Jisung over your shoulder before greeting him warmly. Changbin, one of Jisung’s best friends and also part of the fraternity, greeted you with a curt nod, which you returned.

  The party went on as you danced and drank, Jisung drilling holes into your skull every time you walked two feet away from him. At some point, you were tucked in a corner with a friend of yours, Courtney, when Jisung emerged from the kitchen, bee lining straight to you.

  “He’s here” he told you, forcefully taking your hand and dragging you to the door.

  A boy emerged, who you recognized from pictures as Minho, Jisung’s childhood friend. He was strikingly handsome, his jet black hair now pushed back away from his forehead, complimenting his fair skin. He looked put together, adorning a sky blue button down with black jeans.

  You didn’t fail to note how his eyes shined when they fell upon Jisung, or how warmly the two boys hugged. After exchanging a few words between themselves, they simultaneously turned to look at you.

  “This is my friend, Y/N” Jisung introduced you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

  At the sound of the word ‘friend’ you turned to look at Jisung. You wanted to scoff at him, after all the things he’d pulled today, ‘friend’ was how he introduced you. You remembered your promise to be nice when you met his friend, so you plastered a fake smile on your face and gave him your sweetest look.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you! Jisung talks a lot about you!” you told him.

  “I hope he hasn’t told you all the embarrassing things I’ve ever done. I think he keeps a list” Minho said jokingly.

  “I sure do! It’s alphabetized.” Jisung played along.

  And so Minho was led further into the room and introduced to a couple of other friends, before the both of them took a seat on the couch. You had just returned to Courtney’s side, when you felt someone staring at you. You glanced around the room, only to make eye contact with Jisung.

  He was doing nothing to be discreet, staring at you over Minho’s shoulder as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You stared back at him just as openly, keeping up your conversation.

  When he motioned you to go over to him, you slightly shook your head. You excused yourself for a refill and walked in the kitchen.

  “Jesus!” you screamed over the loud music.

  In the middle of the kitchen stood Changbin, face sucking a girl you didn’t know. They broke apart to look over at you, not bothering with a ‘Sorry’.

  “Get a fucking room. The kitchen is public space” you said, grabbing a Smirnoff bottle.

  “Fuck you.” Changbin said.

  “Why would I? She already is” you told him, pointing at the other girl and walking out.

  “What’s your fucking problem?” Changbin asked, following you.

  You pretended not to hear as you walked back in the living room. Changbin grabbed your hand, spinning you around to face him.

  “I asked you a question” he said, pulling you close to him.

  His breath smelled of alcohol and cigarettes, but then again, yours probably did too. You were about to answer him, probably break his tiny arm in the process, when Jisung stepped in.

  He pulled his friend away, pushing him in a corner where they struck up a heated conversation.

  “Is everything okay?” a voice asked behind you.

  You turned around to find Minho looking at you curiously. You shook your head, suddenly completely overwhelmed. The blasting music and bright lights weren’t helping your case, so you moved outside without a word.

  You took your seat on the front lawn, moving your head to look at the sky. You soon regretted that decision, your head throbbing in dismay. You let out a whine, shutting your eyes closed.

  When your head stopped spinning and your eyes came back in focus, you realized that someone had sat down next to you. You were surprised to find Minho next to you, head looking up.

  An awkward silence set between you as you couldn’t think of anything to say. You took your chance to get some clean air, maybe too much as the wind came in contact with your skin, making you shudder.

  “Are you cold?” he asked softly.

  “A little” you replied with the same tone.

  “Do you want to go back inside?” he asked again.

  You didn’t need to think, only shaking your head no. He looked at you with almost a sad look on his face, softly cocking his head on one side.

  “I only just got here… I wish we’d had a chance to talk more” he said.

  You didn’t know how to answer him, so you just didn’t. Opening the Uber app, you tried to call for one.

  “You’re getting an Uber? Don’t you have a ride?” he asked you.

  “I don’t think my ride wants to talk to me right now” you said.

  The Uber was going to be there in seven minutes. You announced the new piece of information to Minho who simply nodded his head.

  “Y/N, can I tell you something?” he asked.

  You were getting tired of his constant questions, but you didn’t want to be rude. You nodded your head, turning to properly look at him.

  “I think you’re really beautiful. From what I’ve gathered from Jisung, you’re not seeing anyone right now, so I thought that maybe I could get your number? Maybe we could go out some time, get to know each other better.” He said.

  The world started spinning again. It must have been some kind of sick joke. Or maybe a test? You ran a hand through your hair, before turning around…

  Only to find Jisung looking straight at you.

  His eyes were burning with anger, his fists clenched on his sides. He looked from you to Minho, waiting for someone to speak up. At the end, he did.

  “So? What are you gonna do? Go on a little date to get to know Prince Minho over there?” he mocked you.

  “Maybe I will. Since I’m not seeing anyone right now.” You answered, confronting him on his lie, Minho’s presence long forgotten.

  “Isn’t that so?” Jisung asked, jumping down from the porch and walking up to you.

  “Hey, aren’t you happy that your two friends are getting along?” you asked, almost slapping the word friend on his face.

  “Fuck, I knew you were a whore, but I never thought you were this bad” he spat out.

  You would have liked it better if he slapped you. You raised your hand to strike him, but Minho held you back. You shot him an incredulous look, twisting away from his hold.

  “That’s enough, both of you” he said sternly.

  “What do you know about it?” you asked him, giving him a hard shove.

  Your emotions were overflowing from you, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Your hands were shaking with anger, your knees weak. The phone in your hand buzzed, announcing the arrival of your Uber who honked to get your attention.

  Jisung came up to you, your faces almost touching. You took a sharp breath at the close proximity, immediately cursing your body for the way it reacted to him.

  “You’re mine. You and I both know it. So don’t fucking test me.” He warned.

  “Fuck that. I’m mine. I’ve had enough of your shit, go find another rag doll to do whatever you please with. Don’t you dare came crawling back to me again. If I see you in front of me, I will end you”” You spat back at him.

  He was taken aback, almost falling when you pushed him away from you. His anger was short-lived however, now regarding you curiously, seemingly not realizing what you were saying to him. You turned to leave, but decided you had one last thing to say. You met his eyes, your voice sure when you said,

    “I told you once that I thought I didn’t have it in me to hate someone. But I hate you. I hate you so much” you told him, a sob choking you.

  He made one step closer to you as you took a step back. Your Uber honked once again and finally you turned around, walking in the car.

  “Please drive” you told the woman seating behind the wheel.

  You saw Jisung running up to the car as you drove off, but you weren’t moved.

  “Is everything alright darling?” she asked you.

  Tears were now streaming down your face, probably ruining your make up.

  “Not really. But I’ll live” you answered her, your voice breaking.

  “It’s going to be okay girl, I believe in you” she told you.

  “Tonight was supposed to be fun” you thought to yourself.

  You whispered a thank you to her and stayed silent for the rest of the short ride. Finally safe and sound in your dorm room, your phone started ringing, Jisung’s name dominating the screen. You declined his call, turning off your phone completely.

  Your head felt heavy, so without bothering with your make up, you slipped in your most fuzzy pajamas and inside your covers. Exhausted from the ups and downs of the day, you turned your brain off, falling asleep almost immediately.

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

  You were woken up from a loud knock on your door. You knew who it was, so you just shuffled deeper inside your comforter, hoping to brush him off. He was persistent, you’d give him that, knocking for almost fifteen minutes. He would call out for you again and again, pleading you to answer the door.

  All of it fell on deaf ears. And as your silence only grew, his desperation did as well. He started screaming, threatening that he was going to break down the door. He then proceeded to call you every name in the book, so loud security came to take him away.

  You spent the rest of the night alternating between crying and staring blankly at your ceiling. You must’ve drifted off without realizing, for you managed to peel your eyes open sometime the next day. You made yourself get off the bed and into the bathroom. The hot water cleared your head as much as your body and as you walked out of the shower, you had your game plan laid in front of you.

  You forced down some of yesterday’s leftovers, before burying yourself back in your bed. You tried with all your might to compose yourself and decided it was time to open your phone.

  The second it was on, a flood of messages poured in. You read of 110 missed calls from Jisung, with about 30 voicemails. A complicated array of texts was also to be found, a good portion of them from Jisung and also some from Chan.

  Taking a deep breath, you opened Jisung’s messages. You didn’t bother reading them, only started writing your own message to him.

  Jisung,

  You finally broke me, didn’t you? You managed to make me snap. I will not apologize for last night.

  The truth is, this is my last goodbye to you. I had a realization last night. That is one simple fact: You won’t be able to hurt me if I don’t let you. And I’ve let you hurt me for far too long.

  Starting tomorrow, I won’t be using this number anymore. I’ll start afresh and I’m leaving you behind. I’m going to switch dorms too and I’ll be staying over at some friend’s until that happens, so don’t bother to come over again. I know you know my timetable, but don’t make a fool out of both you and me in front of our professors. Security usually isn’t too far away and I’d hate for someone to haul you out of your own uni.

  I’m sorry I spent so much time on you. I’m sorry to me. I should’ve known better. But oh well.

  Jisung, I hope one day you come to know how good I was to you. And consequently how bad you were to me. Perhaps after this you’ll grow a pair, perhaps not. Surely I won’t be there to find out

  Bye now.

  PS: Don’t bother Chan to help you find me. He won’t.

    Not even bothering to read it through, you sent the text. It was read immediately. You even had time to see the three little dots pop up before blocking his number. You switched off your phone again for good measure, dropping it under your bed.

  The plan was in action. Step one was done. Steps two through four would be left for tomorrow. Step five would be the hardest one. But with enough time, you’d be able to let him go.

#han jisung #jisung #skz jisung #stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids jisung #jisung angst #han #han angst #han x reader #jisung x reader #angst #bad boy jisung #alex #alex writes

[crying-gay-tears]

Brighter Than The Sun

Chapter 2: The First Day

“G-Gon?” Killua’s mouth fell open in surprise. “What are you doing here? How did you find my room?” Gon looked so excited and he had no idea why.

“Killua!! I didn’t know this was your room! I just got home and wanted to meet my roommate!”

“Home? Wait, does that mean-” realization hit him suddenly.  “Are you in 405A??”

“Yes! We’re roommates!” 

Killua stood in stunned silence for a moment, unsure of how to feel. Of all the people on campus to have as his roommate, it turned out to be Gon, the bubbly and strange boy he had ironically just been thinking about. 

“Can I see your room? I peeked in earlier when I arrived but it was empty.”

“Uh, sure” he stepped to the side, letting him into the room. “I haven’t really done anything in here yet. I got in right before orientation, so I didn’t have time to start unpacking. When I finally got back after the library I put some stuff away, but I’ve mostly just been hanging out.” Killua blushed, suddenly hyper aware of the chocolate robot wrappers on his desk, and his haphazardly arranged belongings. His suitcase was lying open on the floor beside his dresser, stacks of books were scattered across the desk and floor.

“I think it looks great already! I haven’t had the chance to unpack or decorate at all yet.  Is this your favorite band?” He nodded to the crooked poster on the wall above the bed.

“One of my favorites, yeah. It’s the one playing right now.” He motioned to the bluetooth speaker sitting on the windowsill. 

Gon walked over, sat on his bed, and began bobbing his head to the music.

“They’re really good! You’ve got nice taste in music.” 

Killua chuckled, “This is only one song! I like a lot of different stuff, there’s a lot to listen to.”

“Well, you’ve got the whole school year to show me!” 

His smile was warm and real and it shook Killua up quite a bit. No one had ever really shown interest in the things he enjoyed before, but here was someone he had just met, genuinely excited to be listening to underground rock with him. 

They hung out while Killua finished unpacking his suitcase and getting settled. After that, Gon wandered back to his own room to start his unpacking and when he did Killua followed and this time Gon played the music. His taste was a little weird, and mostly pop, but Killua didn’t mind. He was enjoying the view as Gon danced around his room, tossing clothes into his dresser and arranging trinkets on his desk.When he went to the bathroom to unpack his toiletries, Killua stood over the desk, checking out all of the small momentos Gon felt were important enough to bring with him to college. Among them was a few seashells, a green ring, and a fishing hook in a small glass jar. A photo in a blue frame near the corner of the desk caught his eye, and he leaned in for a closer look. Gon, wearing a graduation cap and gown, was facing the camera, eyes squinted with a beaming smile on his face. One arm held his diploma in the air, while the other was wrapped around a teary eyed woman. Her head came up to his shoulder, and where her hazel eyes and orange hair bore no resemblance to him, her warm and genuine smile was a spitting image. She must be-

“That’s my Aunt Mito!” Gon chirped, eyes lighting up as he walked over to where Killua was standing. “She burst into tears right after this picture was taken. I know she was proud and happy for me, but I’m pretty sure she was really sad that day. Mostly worried about the future, I think.” His face fell a bit. “She knows I want to follow in my dad’s footsteps, and since he’s so busy and always overseas I think she’s worried I’ll just leave and never come back.” 

“What does your dad do?”

“He’s an archaeologist.”

“Wow, that’s so cool!”

“Yeah, that’s why I want to see for myself! If his job is so amazing that it was worth missing out on my life and Mito-san’s life, then I want to know what it’s like!”

Killua felt kind of bad hearing that. He knew what it was like to have a dad ditch you for work, but at the same time, his parents were also very involved with his life. Suffocatingly so. They had appearances to uphold, afterall. His parents were far from perfect and even farther from pleasant, but he still couldn’t imagine one or both of them just leaving and not returning. Plus, what would Gon do if he finally got the job and it wasn’t as amazing as his dad made it seem? Killua knew from experience that hope usually just led to disappointment. 

He pulled out the desk chair and swung his leg over it, nestling backwards in the seat, his arms folded across the top rail of the chair, and his chin resting on top of them. “So what’s your dad like?” 

Gon sat on his bed across from Killua and was lost in thought for a moment. “Well, I’ve only really seen him a few times in my life. . His name is Ging. Ging Freecs. He’s pretty rough around the edges, but well respected. He’s famous in parts of the world for his finds and research. I don’t know much else, except a few stories Mito-san has told me from when they were kids on Whale Island together. She says I’m a lot like him though. ” He shrugged, “By her tone of voice,  I can never tell if she means that as a good or bad thing.” 

Killua surprised himself when he spoke, “Whether you're like Ging or not, and whether that’s good or bad doesn't really matter. You’re you. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty cool.” 

They locked eyes and a huge smile broke out on Gon’s face. 

“Thanks, Killua. I think you’re really cool too! I’m glad we’re roommates!”

Killua just grumbled a bit in response, his mouth set in an awkward smile. Gon could be so embarrassing sometimes.

They slipped into a comfortable silence after that, music still playing softly through the room as Gon continued organizing his stuff and Killua scrolled on his phone. After a while Gon let out a huge yawn and decided it was time to call it a night. They were both mostly unpacked, and even though classes didn’t start for two more days, he wanted to get up early to explore the campus some more. Yawning himself, Killua followed suit and once behind his closed door, stripped to his boxers and flopped onto the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, his mind began to drift.

It had been a hell of a day. Aside from his text letting them know he arrived safely, he hadn’t spoken to his parents at all. Where this wasn’t too different from the norm--they were usually too tied up with work and social ladder climbing to give him much attention--it was still nice to have space from them and his life back home. He’d been so excited for the freedom college was going to provide him. Freedom from the claustrophobic walls of the Zoldyck estate, from his siblings, and best of all, freedom from his parent’s cold judgement. He was finally able to live his life without them breathing down his neck and criticizing his every move. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life, but he was so happy to finally have the space to explore and figure it all out. 

The only thing he was really worried about when he left for college was who his roommate would be, and he was pretty relieved to have Gon. They’d barely known each other a day, but he had the feeling that living with him was going to be a good time. He’d never met someone so… open and warm. His joy was almost contagious, it was a nice contrast and welcome change from his boarding school roommates and family. For the first time in a long time, he fell asleep excited for what the future would hold.

~~~~~~~~

The next two days were a blur of course catalogues and video games with his roommate, and before he knew it, Gon found himself on the way to his first college class, Biology 101. He was practically skipping down the brick walkway and, thanks to all of his previous exploring, he was able to find the classroom with no issue.  He snagged a spot towards the front by a window, and as he sat, noticed a neatly bound packet lying face down on the desk. He was curious, but resisted the urge to flip it over, choosing instead to check out his surroundings. There were a few other students scattered at the tables around the room, and a short woman with green hair stood at the front. He watched as she neatly wrote in neat and swoopy cursive across the white board. 

Dr. C. Yorkshire 

Adjunct Professor 

Biology 101 

Fall Term

Class A 

So she was the professor, Dr. Cheadle. She looked put together and kind, but he’d be lying if he said her calm demeanor was enough to soothe his nerves. School was never really his thing, he much preferred to be outside learning with his hands and on his feet, and his grades usually reflected the trouble he had with studying. His teachers in the past had always been nice enough, but he hated disappointing them with his test scores, and he wanted college to be different. He wanted to put his best foot forward with his new life and really prove himself. He was determined to give it his all. 

A few more people shuffled in and filled the open desks, and when the wall clock marked the top of the hour, the professor faced the class and cleared her throat. 

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to Biology 101. I’m Dr. Cheadle Yorkshire and I’ll be your professor. As you should know, this class is accompanied by a mandatory lab that will meet once a week. You’ll all be partnered off and expected to work together for the lab as well as in class activities.” Her eyes scanned the room, mouth set in a stern smile. “To kick things off, I’d like everyone to turn over the packet in front of you. This is a copy of your class syllabus, I took the liberty of binding them for you, as you’ll be referencing it throughout the entire semester.  It contains all of the information you’ll need to be successful in this class, including classroom policies, expectations, assignments, required reading, my office hours, and more!” 

Gon held the syllabus in his hand and was staring at it like it was made of gold. Everything he needed to do well in this class? It was like he’d been handed a treasure. 

“Now, I’ll call out the lab pairings, and you can find your partner and arrange your seating accordingly, then we can begin our first activity!”

When Gon’s name was finally called along with his partner’s, he was giddy with anticipation and just as he stood to scan the crowd for his partner, a blue satchel dropped down on the table and a tall boy sunk down into the seat next to his. His blonde hair framed his face and hung just above his shoulders, his smile was tight but genuine as he held a hand out to Gon. 

“I’m Kurapika, nice to meet you, partner.” 

Gon shook it and chirped back “I’m Gon! Nice to meet you too!”

They sat in silence while Cheadle finished calling out the rest of the pairs. When everyone was settled, she addressed the class.

 “Alright, now that everybody is paired off, we can begin today’s activity! In order to get to know your syllabus and your lab partner, I’ve created a scavenger hunt! Simply peruse your syllabus and use what you read to answer the questions on this handout!” She waved a stack of papers in the air and with a proud smile on her face, began handing them out. “You can begin as soon as you get your worksheet and you are dismissed whenever you finish!”

When their worksheets were placed in front of them, Kurapika turned in his chair to face Gon. 

“Well, I suppose we better get started, eh? We can both read through the syllabus and then answer the questions together, does that sound good to you?”

“Sure!” Gon nodded in response and they got started. Gon was a little overwhelmed with the amount of information on the syllabus. It was pretty stressful seeing an entire semester of work listed out like that. He was excited for the lab though, all of those assignments seemed pretty hands on and a few of them were even supposed to be done outside. Maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad afterall. After a few minutes, they began answering the questions together. It wasn’t too tough to find the answers, and with two people it went by pretty quickly. Gon didn’t want the whole class to pass without getting to know his lab partner though, so he tried to strike up a conversation between questions. 

“So, Kurapika, what’s your major? Are you a freshman here too?”

Kurapika didn’t look up from the worksheet when he answered. “I’m not a freshman, but I am new. I’m a sophomore and I transferred here this year.I’m double majoring in Psychology and Criminal Justice.” He glanced up and over at Gon. “What about you? Have you decided on a major yet?”

“I have! Well, kinda. I’m considering Anthropology or maybe  Environmental Biology. Still trying to figure out which would be best, but I don’t think I could handle double majoring like you. Your majors sound really great! What do you want to do with your degree?”

“I want to become a detective, I’m still deciding between public and private.” He scribbled something on his paper. “The answer to number 12 is ‘Tuesdays and Thursdays from 3-5pm’ by the way. Three more and we’re finished.” 

Gon was hastily writing in the answer when Kurapika asked, 

“What do you want to do when you get your degree?”

“I want to become an archaeologist, like my dad! Or possibly a similar job within the field.” He perked up when he noticed that Kurapika had put down his worksheet and turned his focus to their conversation instead. 

“So you're a transfer student, how do you like it here so far? Where did you transfer from, and what made you leave?”

 “Woah Gon, you’ve almost got more questions than the assignment.” Kurapika chuckled but still pressed on. “So far it’s fine, but I’ve only been here for 3 days so we’ll see how it goes. I transferred here from Meteor City Community College, but I never really wanted to go there in the first place. This was my first choice school, but I wasn’t able to move here last year because of some family stuff. This year I was able to, so I did. And how are you liking it here? What made you choose YNU?”

“It’s my dad’s alma mater, so it was an easy choice. So far I’m really liking it! I was a little nervous before I got here, but everything has been pretty awesome. I’ve gotten to know and love the campus already, and I’ve got a great roommate too! Plus, my first class is going well! And that’s what I was the most nervous about.” 

“It’s good that you like your roommate. That can cause a lot of trouble for some. It definitely did at my last school, so that’s actually what I was most worried about here.”

“I’m sorry you had trouble last year, but is your new roommate nice I hope?” 

“Well, I actually lucked out and got a suite to myself. I requested one when I filled out the transfer paperwork, and told them about my last experience. I wasn't counting on it to work out in my favor too much, but it did.”

“I’m glad it did!”

“And I’m glad you’re feeling better about your classes now that you’ve got one under your belt.” He slid his worksheet over with a pale slender hand,  the last three answers were written out neatly.

Gon quickly jotted them down and slid the paper back to Kurapika. “Thank you!”

“No problem, it was a team effort after all.” He smiled as he slung his satchel over his shoulder and stood up to turn in his paper, Gon grabbed his backpack and followed behind him. 

After they handed her the worksheets, Dr. Yorkshire complimented their effort and teamwork, and dismissed them for the day. They were in the hallway and Kurapika was waving goodbye when Gon spoke again. 

“Kurapika, do you wanna grab lunch sometime? I know we’re just lab partners, but you seem really cool and I’d like to be friends!”

Kurapika looked puzzled for a moment but his voice was soft and sincere when he spoke. “I’d like that, Gon.” 

With that, they exchanged numbers and went their separate ways. 

The rest of the day breezed by, and Gon was pretty much on cloud 9. He was excited about his classes, and even more excited about the people he met in each one. He had lunch scheduled with Kurapika for later on that week, and he decided to check out some of the clubs a few of his new friends suggested to him throughout the week as well. It was going to be a great year! He texted Killua and they decided to meet up for dinner in the cafeteria, so he headed that way after his last class.

When he arrived, he scanned the room until a crop of silver hair caught his eye at a small table by the dessert station in the far corner. He made his way over and plopped into the seat across from Killua, who was surrounded by plates of different desserts.

“Gon, the dessert bar is amazing. You’ve gotta try the chocolate cake, and there’s cookies too!”

“It looks great! I’m gonna go grab some, and maybe some regular food too!” He stuck his tongue out teasingly, Killua just rolled his eyes in response. 

“Have you been here long?”

“Nah, I got here a few minutes before you. I just headed straight for the dessert.” 

Gon laughed out loud. Dessert for dinner, Mito would’ve killed him. College really was a different world.  “Do you want me to grab something else for you while I’m up?”

“Eh. I’m fine for now, might grab some pizza or something in a bit.” 

Gon nodded and left to make his plate. When he returned, Killua was scrolling on his phone, fork in hand hanging lazily at his mouth. 

His stomach growled and he quickly twirled a bite of spaghetti around his fork. The day was so eventful he hadn’t even realized he was hungry. 

“So, how were your classes? Did you like your professors?” he asked, shoving the huge bite of pasta into his mouth. 

Killua put his phone down and draped his arm over the back of his chair. “They all seem pretty boring, but I’m mostly getting gen ed classes out of the way for now, until I decide what I wanna major in, so that’s probably why. I don’t even remember any of the professors’ names, so that answers that question I guess,” He shoveled another bite of cake into his mouth, “What about you?”

“They all seemed nice enough, but I think I liked Professor Satotz in Anthropology the best. He seems interesting, so I’m excited to see how that class goes. Did you make any new friends?”

Killua quirked an eyebrow at him. “Uh, no. Did you?”

“I did! A few people, and I actually have plans to hang out with one of them! I’m gonna check out some clubs here too, I can definitely make some new friends there! And you’ve gotta come with me Killua! We can check them out together!” As he spoke he was practically buzzing with excitement.

“What clubs are you going to?” Killua asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Well, There’s a bunch of them to choose from, but the Great Outdoors Club, the GSA, and the Ultimate Frisbee Club were all recommended to me, so I’m gonna start with them I think.”

“GSA?”

“It stands for Gay Straight Alliance.”

Killua almost choked on his last bite of cake. “O-oh. Right. Why are you going to that one? Are you... gay?”

Gon’s face scrunched up a bit, his gaze suddenly intense.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that if you are!” Killua backpedaled. “Just asking!”

“Yeah, I’m just thinking about it. I guess I don't know? I was gonna check it out ‘cause I liked the idea of an alliance, and I wanted to go to show support I guess, but hey, maybe the club will help me figure it out!”

Killua’s cheeks were tinged pink. “You don’t know? Haven’t you ever gone on a date or to a school dance or something before?”

“Well, I’ve gone on dates with girls before, never with any boys though.” He rested his chin on his hand. “To be honest, I’m just not sure. I guess now I’m pretty excited to see what I learn from this club!” His eyes squinted up in a bright smile. 

“You should come with me when I go! It’s for everyone to come together, so I don’t think it even matters if you’re gay or not anyways.” 

“Yeah, maybe, we’ll see.” He awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. “ I’m gonna go grab some food, be right back.” He stacked his dirty plates and quickly shuffled off.

Gon leaned back in his chair and rubbed his full belly. He looked around the cafeteria, already starting to recognize people from his classes amongst the crowds at tables and in line at food stations. His first day was really amazing and if this was what the year was going to be like, he was so ready for it. 

~~~~~~~~

After wandering between the different food stations for a few minutes, Killua finally returned to the table with a plate of spaghetti and some soda. The food on campus was actually pretty good, so that was a plus. It was almost good enough to distract him from the nagging questions that the mention of the GSA brought up. Almost. 

He really hadn’t thought too much about his own sexuality, or sexuality in general. He’d never even gone out with anyone before. Well, there was the one time he agreed to go to the winter formal with a girl he knew, but that night was a disaster and he only went because his brother had been giving him shit about his social life.

It’s not like he never found anyone attractive before. But now that he thought about it, most of the time when someone in a crowd caught his eye, they happened to be a boy. Like at orientation just a few days ago... But what did that say about his sexuality? How did anyone actually know if they were gay or straight or whatever? And what would you even do with that information once you managed to figure it out? 

“Killua?” 

“Eh?” The sound of Gon’s voice snapped him back to reality and when he looked up he was met with a pair of honey eyes burning into him. 

“What?” He gulped. Had Gon been sitting this close to him the whole time?

“I asked if you were ready to go.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” 

They grabbed their bags and began the trek back to their dorm. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the blush that spread across his face and up his neck.

#killugon #gonkillu #killua #gon #killua zoldyck #gon freeccs #hunter x hunter #hxh #hunterxhunter #killugon fanfic

[bevioletskies]

if i could fly

summary: Scott’s freshman year in college is going like pretty much any other - his roommate is a little eccentric, he has a huge crush on the girl sitting next to him in his bioengineering lecture, and he absolutely can’t stand their professor. Meanwhile, Hope is just wondering when she can have a moment for herself, when to tell Scott that she knows and she feels the same way, and when he’s going to realize that she’s Dr. Pym’s daughter.

a/n: Fic title is from the song If I Could Fly by One Direction because I need to stop picking songs from before 1988. Also, this fic is slightly more of a Hope character study than a Scott/Hope fic, but they're still a very central part of the plot!

word count: 8.1k | ao3

The moment that Scott and Hope met was...memorable, to say the least - Scott practically fell right through the doors of the lecture hall, stumbled over his own feet, and stubbed his toe on the back row of seats. Every last person turned to look at him, because on top of everything else, he was ten minutes late (he blamed Luis for convincing him that he “didn’t need an alarm, man!”).

He sheepishly made his way down the stairs, scanning every row for an empty seat, his heart sinking when he realized the entire hall was at full capacity, save for one seat at the very front. He felt decidedly more optimistic once he laid eyes on the girl who would be sitting next to him. “Sorry,” he whispered, sliding past her to sit down. She merely huffed and waved him off. Good start, Scott, he internally berated himself, and cracked open his textbook, quietly wondering if she already thought he was a completely hopeless case. Everyone went back to their own books and laptops, but he could still feel the professor’s eyes trained on him, judging him in stone-faced silence.

It wasn’t until they took a short break between lecture slides that Scott decided to try for a second first impression; if nothing else, he knew it would help to find an accountability partner for each of his classes (and not one who told him he didn’t need to set an alarm, Luis). “Hey, I’m Scott,” he offered.

The girl turned to look at him, allowing for a far better look at her face - mid-length dark hair, inquisitive brows, and a piercing gaze, her eyes similar in their shade of hazel-green to his. “Hope,” she said shortly, turning back to her screen. “Dr. Pym hates latecomers.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckled sheepishly. “You’ve taken a class with him before?”

An odd smirk formed on her face, a quirk in the corner of her mouth that only intrigued him further. “Sure.”

“I read some pretty bad reviews of him, but he’s the only one who teaches some of the 300-level stuff I need. Wanted to get onto his good side early, but now it might be outta the question,” he continued, undeterred. “Any suggestions?”

“I know it’s bioengineering, but it’s not rocket science. Show up on time, do the readings, study for thirty hours a day. You just might scrape by,” she drawled.

“Well, when you put it like that,” Scott said, leaning back in his seat with a grin. “And while you’re giving advice, where’s the best place to study on campus?”

Hope finally looked at him again, her eyes flickering briefly across his face; he felt like he was being evaluated for something, but what, he couldn’t be quite sure. “Main library, third floor, by the windows. I’m usually there on Sunday mornings by ten, since everyone else is still sleeping.”

He met her gaze, his smile spreading. “Good to know.”

Once class was over, Hope remained in her seat until the entire room was empty, save for Dr. Pym at the front, packing up his things. “Any potential takers, or were you too busy batting your eyelashes at the boy sitting beside you?”

Hope rolled her eyes, shutting her laptop with a snap. “Don’t patronize me, Dad, I can have a life outside of your recruitment program. Why don’t you offer internships like every other CEO-slash-professor?”

“Because I’m not like other CEOs-slash-professors,” Hank insisted; Hope had to choke back her laugh at how absurd he sounded. “What, you think I’m going to stick just any random intern in the Ant-Man suit? No!”

She clicked her tongue dismissively, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, and began making her way up the stairs to the exit. “If you ask me, Scott seems like the best choice.”

“For me, or for you?” he called. All he got in response was the loud clunk of the doors swinging shut.

Hope was not one to be told what to do, and never had been. She’d been a stubborn child, a stubborn teenager, and despite her parents’ best efforts, became a stubborn young adult. Despite Hope’s best efforts, however, she ended up following in their footsteps anyway, contrary to her bouts of teenage rebellion. She’d gone through her phases of wanting to be a veterinarian, a writer, a martial arts instructor, but ultimately found herself right back in the sciences under the loving tutelage of her genius parents. Still, now that she was in college, or more specifically, the college her parents taught at, she refused to tell people they were related. She had no intention of letting people immediately form opinions of her that she didn’t have control of. It didn’t help that Hank was constantly hovering over her shoulder like he didn’t already keep tabs on her phone’s GPS or put sensors in her car (which he didn’t know that she knew about).

“Can you not let our daughter be a normal student without dragging her into another one of your schemes?” Janet had protested when Hank first brought up his recruitment plans. “Just get an intern, Henry!”

Now, Hope sat at her favorite table in the library, drumming her pencil against its surface, considering all the things her father had told her to look for. Someone clever, hardworking, focused, adaptive. She couldn’t help but scoff at the last attribute he’d asked for - in other words, someone who will listen to you no matter what, Hope had wanted to say. Typical. She wasn’t even sure why Hank was looking for a successor, given that he and Janet had retired from their other lives by the time she was sixteen, but she knew questioning him about it would only lead to another eventual shouting match. Nothing made him happier than finding something to be angry about.

“Hey.” She looked up, both startled and pleased to see Scott smiling back at her. “Fancy seeing you here. Mind if I join you?”

She gestured for him to take the chair across from hers. “Please,” she said, finding his grin infectious and returning it with a small one of her own. “Don’t tell me you’re already having trouble with the material.”

“Dr. Pym sure has some different ideas about what a ‘first week’ looks like,” he sighed, unloading what seemed like the entire contents of his book bag onto the table. “The guy’s smart, but someone’s gotta tell him to relax.” Hope’s brow shot up at the offhand comment - maybe it was a strike against Scott for Hank’s purposes, that he wasn’t capable of meeting his demands. For her purposes, however, anyone who was willing to call out her dad’s...quirks was a person worth getting to know.

She reached across the table for his workbook. “May I?” At his nod, she pulled it towards her, scanning across the pages. “For someone who’s complaining, you seem to know what you’re doing.”

“I like learning about this kind of stuff, it’s just his teaching style. Dude’s gotta lighten up,” Scott shrugged, though his cheeks warmed at her sort-of compliment. “Hey, I never asked, what’re you majoring in?”

“Biochem, minor in commerce,” she replied. “You?”

“Engineering,” he said, taking his workbook back from her. “So I guess we won’t see much of each other outside of some general sciences stuff.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she hummed. They exchanged somewhat shy smiles over the top of her laptop before resuming their work in comfortable, amiable silence.

Later that afternoon, she returned to the family townhouse - situated close to campus, where Hank and Janet (and now Hope) lived while they taught during the fall and spring semesters - with a slight spring in her step, feeling oddly optimistic. Hope had never put too much stock into relationships of any kind, preferring to focus more on herself, but she found Scott charming in a way she wanted to explore further. As for Hank’s intentions -

“Where have you been?”

“Really, Dad? What am I, seven years old?” Hope kicked off her shoes and hung up her jacket in the hall closet, deliberately keeping her back to him. “I was studying at the library, okay? Nothing scandalous.”

“Don’t give me attitude, Hope, it was just a question,” Hank grouched. “You got some time to join me in the lab? I have something to show you.”

“Fine,” she sighed, following him down into the basement suite, which Hank had transformed into a condensed version of his far more advanced laboratory at Pym Technologies. “What’s this about?”

Naturally, he didn’t answer, instead leading her to the back of the room where he kept all of his ant specimens. Hope tapped gently on the glass in greeting, and some of them wriggled their antennae back at her; she smiled, knowing it was really Hank who’d told them to. He then moved to knock on the back wall, a hollow metallic echo resonating back to them. Slowly, it slid open, revealing a glass display case behind it, illuminated so brightly that she could barely make out what was inside.

“Of course you have a secret door - wait, is that...is that a new suit?”

Hope moved closer, all the dry wit in her tone gone, now replaced with wonderment in her eyes as she stared at the unfamiliar suit before her. She could tell by the shape of its chestplate and the width of its hips that it was for a feminine figure, but it didn’t look anything like her mother’s suit. It was a silver-gold unlike Janet’s red; it was sleeker, a little more modern in comparison. She turned to look at her father in disbelief.

Hank smiled. “Congratulations on getting into college, honey.”

Hope let out a quiet gasp, then flung her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. “Dad,” she breathed, tears forming in her eyes. “How long have you been working on this?”

“Long enough,” he said, sounding both world-weary and proud, and he wrapped his arms around her in return. “Hope, that’s why I wanted you to help find my successor. They’re going to be your partner.”

She let go of him and stepped back. “What?”

“I know better than to pick for you,” Hank chuckled, rocking back on his heels. “Made the mistake of trying to tell you which extracurriculars to take when you were younger, and we all know how that turned out. But this is important, Hope. For me, sure, but really, for you.”

She walked back up to the case, splaying her palm open against the glass, still starry-eyed. “Partner,” she repeated.

“So, did you find anyone yet?”

Hope thought back to half an hour ago when she’d left Scott in the library, how easy it had been to work and chat and laugh with him, how she wasn’t quite ready to leave when she did. Then she tried to picture him standing in her father’s lab, the two of them arguing over the schematics of the suit, or the formulas they used, or just anything, really. She internally blanched.

“No, not yet.”

Sunday mornings at the library very quickly became a thing for Hope and Scott, where she stopped being surprised by his arrival (he made a point of promptly being there by ten) and he stopped needing to ask whether he could join her. He soon learned what her coffee order was, too, making a habit of bringing her a drink and a danish or donut, somehow always knowing which one she wanted every single time.

“Good memory,” he had shrugged when she asked him one time how he remembered she’d been craving something cherry-flavored, watching in astonishment as he deposited a small paper bag of a sugar-coated cherry strudel beside her laptop. Her first bite was more satisfying than she expected, trying not to make a show of it while he watched her with a sort of half-smile and a soft twinkle in his eyes.

Even stranger was the first time Hope ever saw Scott outside of the classroom or the library: at the on-campus gym, of all places, circling a punching bag. She took a moment to admire his arms (and silently criticize his footwork) before approaching him. “You really need to work on your form.”

He startled slightly at the sound of her voice, then laughed once he realized it was her. “Yeah, I’m not - I’m more of a runner type of guy, not a boxer. Didn’t know you were here, too.”

“I was over at the weight machines and I thought I saw a familiar face, though more sweaty than I’m used to,” she teased, walking around the bag so they were face-to-face. “I think you could use some advice.”

“You know this stuff?” he asked.

“I’ve been doing martial arts since I was eight,” she replied, shrugging easily.

“Didn’t know that.” He briefly bent to pick up his water bottle and take a long, generous swig; Hope briefly averted her eyes, not wanting to become too fixated on the way his throat moved while he did.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” she said instead, gesturing for him to follow her over to the mats. She then came to a standstill in the middle, holding up both of her hands so her palms were facing him. “Gloves off. Show me how to punch.”

“I was in - I mean, I know how to punch,” Scott hedged. She narrowed her eyes at his hesitation. Finally, with a sigh, he got into position, then threw a couple of punches, striking her hands half-heartedly.

“Terrible,” she said, lowering her arms, though she kept her tone light.

“You wanna show me how to - ” Scott let out a noise he wasn’t proud of as Hope knocked him right in the chest. He fell head over heels quite literally, stumbling backward over his own feet. “Oh - ”

“You asked.” Hope put her hands on her hips, smirking at Scott’s half-impressed, half-terrified expression. “Come on, back to work.”

After an hour-long impromptu bootcamp, they were both drenched in sweat and sore to the bone, him far more so than her. On their way to their respective locker rooms, Scott decided to strip off his T-shirt entirely, causing several heads to turn their way. He grinned when he noticed Hope keeping her chin a little too high in the air, her eyes practically glued to the ceiling. “What’s up?”

“No one likes a show-off,” she huffed, disappearing into the women’s showers.

The two of them ended up going to a hole-in-the-wall dive that was about a five-minute drive outside of the university campus, the kind of place that Hope admittedly would have never tried herself, having spent her life going to restaurants with more than one crystal chandelier and waiters that had been calling her “ma’am” since she was five. She remembered sitting between her parents, tugging uncomfortably at the runs in her tights, barely able to follow the conversation happening with the executive or researcher or whoever happened to be their plus one for the night who sat across the table from her, occasionally cooing at her like she was a newborn baby. Scott, meanwhile, looked right at home sitting across from her on a scratched-up booth bench that had certainly seen better days, his arm thrown over the back, his other hand drumming out an offbeat rhythm on the table’s surface. There was a quiet confidence to him that she very much envied, the ease in the slump of his shoulders painting a stark contrast to the tightness in hers.

“So what don’t I know about you?”

Hope was taken aback. “What?”

“You said there’s a lot I don’t know about you, and I can’t not ask after you say something like that,” he chuckled. “Like, what made you do martial arts as a kid? Why’re you majoring in science and minoring in business? What classes have you taken with Dr. Pym?”

She winced a little at the last one. “Why do you want to know?” she asked. “Is it because - ”

“Just curious,” he said, holding up his hands defensively. “But if you don’t wanna tell me, it’s cool. I’ve got my secrets, too.”

“Really, because you seem almost too transparent,” she said dryly. She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, then regretted it instantly when she realized how sticky it was. “Martial arts is something my parents thought would be important for me to learn, I want to - ” destined to, more like, she thought “ - work at a scientific research company, and Dr. Pym used to do summer workshops for high school students.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing her words, the words that she knew were half-truths at best, lies of omission at worst. Then: “I’ve been learning how to do close-up magic.”

“What,” she repeated, though flatly this time. He leaned in, his face startlingly close to hers, and she felt his fingers briefly brush against her earlobe before he triumphantly brandished a quarter in her face, his grin impossibly wide.

“I guess it’s not really a secret, but I’m getting pretty good at it,” he said, taking her hand and unfurling her fingers so he could press the coin into her palm. His hands were warm, his fingers unusually calloused for someone who supposedly didn’t work with much more than a keyboard. Hope wanted to ask, but she wasn’t even sure what to ask. She hadn’t exactly forgotten his comment earlier, either, whatever he was going to say before failing spectacularly at punching. Maybe his secrets were like hers - not shameful, exactly, just not something he wanted to talk about yet.

“I’m impressed.” She half-closed her hand around his, then leaned back so she felt like she could breathe again. “So is that just for fun, or...”

“You could say that.” He averted his eyes a little too quickly, finally sliding his hand away, back to his side of the table. “I’m still trying to figure out what kinda stuff I’m into, what I wanna do in like, life. I know, I know, it’s the most...typical college student stuff. But that’s what it’s all about, right? Figuring out who we are?”

“Going to the gym on a regular basis is definitely a good place to start,” she mused. “What else have you been doing?”

“Haven’t really had the chance to do much in the last three or so years,” he said mysteriously, resuming his drumming against the table. “And hey, I could use a personal trainer.”

Before Hope could reply, her phone went off. She glanced at Scott apologetically before looking down at her screen, groaning when she realized who it was. “Dad, I’m - no, I’m out right now, I can’t - I’ll be home - Dad, seriously - ”

While she talked, keeping her voice low and her mouth covered, Scott’s gaze wandered off around at the gaudy posters and neon signs, the leaky ceiling and the rusty window panes, before his eyes went back to her. Her hair was still somewhat damp, her brows were knitted together in clear frustration, and he could see the slight chipping of her fingernails, probably from the rough-and-tumble they’d had earlier. Scott wanted to take her hand again, to find some other magic trick or silly excuse that would allow him to do so without weirding her out. That is, he hoped she wasn’t put off by what he knew was his sometimes strangeness, little things and moments of “immaturity”, as his ex had so nicely called it (and it was nice of her, considering some of the things her current boyfriend had to say about him). He turned away when she started to hang up, certain that his face felt just the slightest bit warmer than it had a moment ago.

“Is he expecting you home right now?” Scott asked once she pocketed her phone. “If you have to go - ”

“I’m just fine where I am,” Hope said shortly, though her expression softened once their eyes met again. “What were you saying about a personal trainer?”

“Well, if you’re up to spending more time with me…” He trailed off, looking at her expectantly.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” she teased, grinning. Once more, they found themselves exchanging promising glances, barely breaking eye contact, even when their waiter came around with a plastic basket of oily nachos.

“So, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not - well.”

They were about two months into the semester, with the weather gradually getting colder and crisper, and classes getting progressively harder and deceptively longer. Scott and Hope were bundled in their thickest coats and walking across campus together, coffee and buttery pastries in hand, on their way to Hank’s class. It had become routine for them, to the point where Scott’s roommate teased them every time she dropped by their dorm.

“Hey, Hope,” Luis would say with a knowing grin. Then he’d turn into the room and call, “Scotty, your girl’s here to walk you to class!”, much to Scott’s embarrassment. Ruddy-cheeked, he would always push past Luis and mutter unintelligibly under his breath, then gesture for Hope to follow him far, far away.

“Luis and I actually knew each other before coming here,” Scott said. Strangely enough, he seemed to be avoiding her eyes. “We, uh, we met in jail?”

Hope stopped in her tracks. “Is that a question?” she said shortly, her breath stuck in her throat, fearing the absolute worst. “What were you in for?”

“Theft,” he admitted. She internally exhaled, though she remained wary. “Few months after graduating high school, my girlfriend got pregnant. I was doing an internship at a security company to save up for college, and then, y’know, the baby. All I saw were these guys in nice suits, bragging about vacation homes, golf scores, the usual. But then I heard ‘em talking about screwing over their customers, skimming money from their accounts. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to steal it back. Got caught, dumped, thrown into prison - in that order. I was let out early on good behavior, but if I wanna meet my daughter, my ex says I gotta prove that I’ve changed.”

Hope fiddled with the sleeve of her coffee cup, wearing away at the thin cardboard until the edges began to fray. “...oh.”

“I just didn’t want you to hear about it from someone else,” Scott continued, shooting her a strained smile. “I wanna be there for my daughter, I wanna be a good person. Honest, reliable...all that.”

She cleared her throat, giving him a small smile of her own. “What’s her name?”

“Cassie,” he said quietly.

“That’s a pretty name.” Her eyes dropped to the lid of her coffee cup for a moment, contemplating. “From what I can tell, Scott, you’re already honest. You just need more focus. Once your ex sees that, how badly you want to see Cassie...it’ll happen.”

“I sure hope so,” he said, his eyes softening. “Thanks for, uh, for hearing me out.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

Hank’s class was the usual long-winded lecture, filled with convoluted definitions and complex equations. Near the end, he handed back one of their reports before dismissing them. Hope immediately had to stash hers in her bag the moment she laid eyes on it, realizing he’d written excellent work, proud of you at the top of the front page, right next to her A-grade. Hank had never been one to express sentiment through writing (Janet had once shown Hope the love letters he’d written to her when they were young; they both had a good laugh at his earnest, but ultimately poor attempts), and it made her tear up a little at the last three words. Still, she didn’t want Scott to see. Scott looked confused at her erratic behavior, but merely grinned his easygoing grin and said his goodbyes, once again leaving her alone in the lecture hall with Hank.

“You’re getting pretty close to Lang, aren’t you?” he commented, eyeing her knowingly.

“We’re friends,” she replied tightly. “You don’t have to punish him for whatever imaginary rivalry you’ve got going in your head, by the way. I’ve seen the marks you’ve given him. He’s smarter than you literally give him credit for.”

“You know, I just can’t tell if you want him to be your partner or not,” Hank scoffed. “You’ve told me about his many supposed good qualities - his intelligence, memory, agility - and yet you also tell me you haven’t found anyone - ”

“I just haven’t, okay?” Hope interrupted. “Just - Dad, can you please just let me live my life, separate from yours?”

“Then why did you enroll in the very school that your mother and I work at? Why didn’t you go clear across the country like every other teenager?” Hank retorted, folding his arms across his chest.

“Sometimes, I really don’t know.” With that, Hope turned and stormed out of the lecture hall in a huff, some of her residual childish temper still lingering inside. Hank stood there, staring after her with the same fire in his eyes, simultaneously loving and hating the fact that she’d turned out to be a little too much like him.

Hope found herself spending more time in the gym or Scott’s dorm room than her family’s townhouse as the semester dragged on, avoiding her father’s stern looks and her mother’s placating smiles. She knew she was being immature about the whole ordeal, but it was hard not to feel stifled and cornered into bursts of anger when it seemed like they were constantly sitting on her shoulders. Something about seeing all the other college students going around campus, getting to truly be themselves for the first time, made her burn with a quiet envy she didn’t realize she had.

“I know it sounds like the dumbest thing to complain about, but I’m so sick of my parents always...being there,” Hope admitted one afternoon while she and Scott were sprawled across his tiny bedroom floor, lazily making their way through their homework. After he’d opened up about his time in jail, she wanted to return the favor and tell him more about herself, though she still tried to keep it as vague as possible. “It’s not like I want them gone or anything, but sometimes I wish it was like when I was little, and they’d go on business trips out of the blue. I’d be at home with a sitter for weeks at a time, wondering if they’d ever come back. Now, I...almost want that distance again. Just enough so I don’t feel like I have to live up to something.”

Scott hummed thoughtfully, his head tilted in a way she somehow found more charming than cloying. “Have you told them how you feel? I’m sure they’d wanna know if they were pressuring you, they sound like good parents.”

“If you knew them, you’d know it isn’t that simple,” she sighed.

“Can I? Meet them, I mean,” he added.

She quirked an eyebrow. “And...why do you want to meet my parents, exactly?” Scott could only look at her dumbfoundedly, as if he’d just realized the weight of what he was asking for. Hope smiled, shuffling closer to rest her elbows on top of his knees, her bright-eyed gaze meeting his. “Is it because - ”

Scott kissed her before she could finish her sentence. She let out a startled noise before returning the kiss, pleased that she hadn’t been imagining things, that it wasn’t just her wishful thinking that he’d been offhandedly flirting with her for the past few months.

Knock knock. “Hey, Scotty - ” before either of them had time to react, the door swung open to reveal Luis standing there with a plastic bag overloaded with takeout containers “ - whoa, what’s going on?”

Scott broke the kiss first, shooting her a faux-stern look. “Really, Hope? I thought we were here to study and then you go around kissing me like that, honestly - ”

“You are so full of shit, Scott,” she retorted without missing a beat, half-sighing and half-laughing in exasperation. She moved to gather up her things from around the room, pointedly keeping her back to Luis, who was snickering behind his hand. “I should get going, I promised my mom I’d hang out with her tonight.”

“Wait, I’ll walk you out,” Scott called as she swept past him. He got to his feet and grabbed his room key, then turned to fix Luis with a pointed stare. “Dude.” Luis merely shrugged, chuckling, and sat down at his desk like nothing had happened.

“I mean it, I have to get going,” Hope said, though she was still waiting for Scott while he closed the door behind him. “Mom’s probably waiting for me.”

“Sorry about, y’know, him,” Scott said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. The two of them quickly fell into step like they always did, walking down the hall to the building doors. “I meant it, though. I haven’t really had a relationship with my parents since I got sent to jail, so...it’d be cool to meet yours. And…‘cos of the other thing.”

“Someday,” she hummed noncommittally. “And the ‘other thing’? I’m not sure what you mean. I thought we were here to study.”

“Now who’s full of it?” he grinned, coming to a stop right in front of the exit. He leaned in, his nose brushing against hers; she was the one to close the gap this time. “Have a good time with your mom.”

“Have a good time with your...Luis,” Hope said, smirking in the way he adored, and she disappeared through the doors. Scott stood there for a moment longer just to chuckle to himself, shaking his head in awe, before returning to his room.

Once Hope returned home, she quickly changed into her workout clothes and went down into the other half of the basement suite - the makeshift gym - to find Janet already there, working with the speed bag. It was one of their rare nights alone together since Hank was doing a talk at a conference two towns over. According to a string of text messages he’d sent them both, it was ‘one of the most inane things’ he’d ever done and reportedly made him miss the days of endless bureaucratic SHIELD meetings. “Sorry I’m late,��� Hope said by way of greeting.

“That’s alright. You have a good time with Scott?” Janet asked, stopping to grin at her daughter.

“Don’t,” Hope sighed. “I already get enough of that from Dad, I don’t need to hear it from you.”

“Speaking of your father...I told him to stop asking you about that whole partner thing, and...he agreed.” Janet nodded at Hope’s surprised expression. “You don’t need that going on during your very first semester of college. You’ve already got plenty to worry about.”

Hope smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Mom. I don’t want you guys to think I don’t want this, you know I’ve been wanting my own suit my entire life. But...this isn’t just something I can ask of someone out of nowhere. And I need someone who can be my partner, not his. I need time.”

“I know, jellybean,” Janet said, her voice soft. “Even then...you just focus on yourself, alright?”

“Easier said than done,” Hope sighed. “Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe I should’ve just gone to school somewhere else. Make my life my own for a little while instead of getting angry at you both for...well, for being good parents.”

“Oh, Hope…” Janet removed her gloves entirely so she could properly wrap her arms around her daughter, bringing her in for a tight hug. “We are so proud of you already, you have to know that. We don’t need you to be perfect, we just need you to be yourself. And if you need some space so you can do that, take it, okay? No matter what your father says.”

“You know he wouldn’t like it if I left,” Hope chuckled, burrowing her face into Janet’s shoulder. “Both of you would be calling me every single day.”

“We would, wouldn’t we?” Janet chuckled. “But seriously, jellybean, promise me you won’t be worrying about what we think. Let it be about you.”

Hope’s smile broadened, and she stepped back to meet her mother’s gaze, bright and wise and warm. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I will.”

Another week went by, then two, then a few more, and suddenly, it was the day before Scott and Hope’s last final, which happened to be for Hank’s class. They were studying in the library, occasionally looking up to exchange warm smiles before returning to their notes, Scott playfully nudging Hope’s foot underneath the table every now and then, basking in the comfortable silence.

Then: “So, my ex called today.”

Once again, Hope found herself caught by surprise. “Oh?”

“We made a deal,” Scott continued, flipping the page of his textbook, making a point of not lifting his head to meet Hope’s steely-eyed gaze. “If I get at least Bs in all my classes and get a job or an internship or something in the next six months, I can see Cassie as often as I want.”

“That sounds reasonable. You’re getting As in all of your classes, Scott,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s the job thing I’m worried about. You know how hard it is for ex-cons to find work? Especially for a guy who got jail time for messing with his last workplace?” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I wanna be responsible, I wanna be there for her, but...I’m basically screwed.”

Hope chewed her bottom lip in deep thought, guilt beginning to settle a little too comfortably in the pit of her stomach. The solution was right there, right in front of her face, while Scott was completely unaware there even was a solution to be had. Part of her wanted to be selfish, to keep Scott to herself, to not let her parents take over yet another aspect of her life. All she could think about was Scott’s irritation with Hank’s personality and Hank’s vitriol for Scott’s...existence. At the same time, considering how things were going, the tip-toeing progression of their relationship that was moving (in her opinion) at just the right pace, he was going to find out eventually, wasn’t he?

“I can get you a position at Pym Technologies,” she finally said, closing her laptop so she could look him straight in the eye. “When can you start?”

“Wait, what? How? Dr. Pym didn’t say anything about internships - ”

“Neither did I. And he’s been looking for a while now, he just didn’t want people to know.”

Scott’s brow furrowed further. “Then...how did you find out about it?”

Hope sucked her breath in between her teeth. “I’m his daughter.”

Scott’s mouth almost comically dropped open, gaping at her like a fish. Just as quickly, his jaw then clicked shut, clenching tight. Hope had never seen his eyes grow so cold; she shivered. “Hope.”

“Scott, I - ”

“Hope,” he repeated. “Come on, why didn’t you tell me? All semester, I’ve been talking so much crap about Dr. Pym, and this whole time you’ve been listening to me, and, and...and lying to me?” She glanced briefly over his shoulder to see students at the other tables beginning to turn and stare at them, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I know it was wrong, okay, and for that, I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But...you have to know why I did it, Scott. I’ve spent my whole life being told that my parents are geniuses, and that I have to live up to those expectations and be one myself. I have to be well-rounded but focused, social but disciplined, all these...things that eventually became too much for me. I’m better at balancing all those things now, but I still wanted just one thing to be my own, and...I wanted it to be you. I didn’t want you to think anything of me because of them, but...I guess I was the only one who didn’t think this through. It was selfish. I was selfish.”

“No, it’s not - ” Scott inhaled sharply, then reached across the table to take her hand and give it a brief squeeze. “ - it’s not selfish, I mean, I get it. I didn’t want you to know about my criminal past for sort of the same reason. First impressions, right? Having all these ideas about a person before you actually get to know them.” He smiled in the sort of crooked way that made her let go of the breath she didn’t realize she was still holding. “So uh, were you serious about that Pym Tech internship thing?”

Hope chuckled, simultaneously burnt out from worry and relieved by Scott’s easygoing acceptance. “Just like that, huh?”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “And at least it explains why Dr. Pym seems to side-eye me more than anyone else. I didn’t think I was doing that bad.”

She smiled, her shoulders finally relaxing, and glanced down briefly to their still-intertwined fingers. “It might be a little more...involved than you might expect, but I think you can handle it. Also, I never said it was an internship.”

Hank’s final went about as smoothly as expected, which was to say it didn’t go smoothly at all. The problem wasn’t the test itself; both Hope and Scott were diligent students with a good understanding of the material, but there was a tension in the lecture hall that hadn’t existed before. Scott took one look at Hank, now having mentally labelled him as Hope’s father, and it made him more nervous than the essay questions ever would.

“Something wrong, Lang? Your eye is twitching,” Hank observed while he distributed the test papers.

Scott gave him an awkward double thumbs-up. “All good here.” His voice was at least an octave higher than its usual pitch. Hope held back her usual eye-roll.

After their exam was over, Scott went back to his dorm room to sleep off his post-finals week exhaustion, but not before giving Hope a brief kiss while Hank was packing up his bag. “Hey, good luck,” he murmured. “You got this.”

Hope squeezed his arm in return, enjoying the fact that she didn’t even have to turn her head to know what Hank’s expression looked like. “I know I do,” she replied quietly, smirking.

The car ride back to their townhouse was silent - for once, Hope had allowed Hank to drive her to and from class instead of taking her own car - save for the college radio station, where the monotonous host droned on about the last stretch of the semester. It was only when they arrived that Hank wordlessly gestured for her to follow him into the basement laboratory. She winced in anticipation of what was to come.

Hank opened the secret wall once more, calling the display case forward, and Hope went to stand by his side. It took her a moment to realize there was another mannequin on the other side of the glass, this one donning a masculine suit with similar design lines and detailing to match hers, but rendered in her father’s preferred red-and-black color scheme. Goosebumps went up her arms as she stepped closer, the glass sliding open so she could gently run the tips of her fingers across the material of her own suit. It was then that she could truly feel how solid it was, how real her childhood fantasy had become. “So...what do you think?”

She turned to look at him. “They look amazing, Dad. But I really need to talk to you about something.”

“So do I,” Hank sighed, sinking down into his chair. “Hope, I...realize that I may have been pushy about you finding someone to work with. I know we’re not exactly on the same page about the progress of your...let’s call it your career, shall we?”

Hope smiled. “Let’s. And I know that you and Mom mean well, and I don’t want you thinking I’m not grateful for everything you guys have done for me. But...I don’t want to end up resenting you both for making my life fit into yours.”

“We just want what’s best for you, Hope,” Hank protested. “And you’ve proven yourself over and over again. It’s why I made the suit.”

“I get that.” She sat down in the chair opposite him, reaching across to rest her hand on his knee. “I’d just like it if my life was my own sometimes, or else I’m going to be left wanting. Wondering what it could be like.”

He went silent for a moment, contemplating. Then, he placed his hand over hers. “You know I’m no good at this kind of thing,” he said gruffly. “But tell me what we can do.”

“Trust me?” It came out more of a question than a statement. She cleared her throat. “And I mean really trust me to make my own choices.”

“I do,” Hank said automatically. When Hope fixed him with a look, he also coughed, leaning back into his seat. “More than you think. And if this is about your taste in partners - ”

“ - I don’t need to explain myself to you,” she interrupted, her voice hard. “I’m not a child anymore, Dad. If I bring him here to put on the suit and train with me, I need you to respect him and our relationship.”

He held up his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, I hear you. But I’m glad to hear you’ve made your decision.”

“I wanted to keep him away from you,” she admitted, finally withdrawing her hand. “I wanted my college experience to be just like anyone else’s, and I didn’t want to pull him into our world when he’s been one of the most normal things about my world that I’ve ever had. But I would’ve just been delaying the inevitable, and...I really want to put on that suit.”

Hank laughed, getting to his feet and gesturing for her to follow. “I know you do. Why do you think I’ve been working on it for so long?” Hope smiled, standing as well and moving to wrap her arms around him. He hugged her in return, pressing a kiss into her forehead. “You’re really running things around here these days, aren’t you? Just like your mother. Too damn clever and stubborn for your own good.”

“Always,” Hope replied, grinning.

“Is the blindfold really necessary? I feel like I’m gonna trip.” As if on cue, Scott’s foot slipped out from under him; Hope caught him by the waist before he could fall any further.

“Dad’s the kind of paranoid who thinks the neighbors steal our mail, do you really think he’d be okay with you entering his lab without one?” she drawled, straightening him up. “Just a few more steps.”

Once they reached the bottom, Hope briefly let go to type in the code on the door’s keypad, her heart thumping wildly against her ribcage with anticipation. The door slid open to reveal Hank and Janet sitting by one of the worktables, poring over blueprints for a new model of the quantum tunnel. They both looked up at the sound of Scott and Hope’s footsteps.

Hope helped Scott remove his blindfold, watching him blink blearily into the light, squinting, before his eyes landed on her parents. He blanched slightly. “Dr. Pym...Miss Van Dyne, it’s so nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to shake, though he nearly tripped over his own feet in doing so. Hope nudged him upright with her shoulder. “Hope talks about you all the time.”

“All good things, I assume,” Janet beamed, getting to her feet so she could return the gesture. “She’s briefed you on what’s going on around here, right?”

“NDA and all,” Scott said, laughing awkwardly. “I also read up about you guys after she told me. Really impressive stuff.”

“I hope it wasn’t just my reviews on that professor rating website,” Hank grouched, though he motioned for them to join him at the display case, which had remained in full view since his conversation with Hope from a few days ago. It was the weekend after exam week was over, and the Pym-Van Dynes had spent the last couple of days mulling over Hope’s decision, weighing the pros and cons of bringing, in Hank’s words, an “inexperienced civilian” into their fold, eventually agreeing that a quick background check, typical of any normal employer, would do the job (Hope drew the line at trying to contact his family as references, though; she got the impression that his parents would have nothing but thinly-veiled insults to offer). Scott had spent the last couple of days sleeping.

“Oh, wow…” Scott was speechless as he approached the glass, his starry-eyed expression reminiscent of Hope’s. “This is so cool. It’s like a, a motorcycle suit or something.”

“It’s not - ” Hank cut himself off with a huff. “It’s for you, Scott.”

“Really?” Scott turned to look at Hank. “Can I try it on?”

“Not yet, we have to measure you and make some adjustments,” Janet piped up, pointing toward a small platform for him to stand on. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Scott grinned, hopping up with all the enthusiasm of a child getting to try on their Halloween costume for the first time. Janet went to grab her measuring tape and tablet, while Hope smiled up at Scott, the discomfort in her stomach slowly ebbing away. Hank still looked as sour as ever, but Hope spotted a twitch in the corner of his mouth that suggested maybe, just maybe, this was going to work.

A few hours later, after Hank and Janet had rattled through what Hank called the introductory course to, among other things, Pym Particles and the Ant-Man suit, Scott and Hope sat on the living room couch together, watching a movie, while they waited for her parents to finish preparing dinner for the four of them.

Hope soon noticed Scott seemed to be sending off a series of texts, though she bit her tongue before her curiosity could get the best of her. “Thank you,” she murmured instead, gently prodding his leg with her toe.

“Of course,” he said, immediately pocketing his phone. He turned to fully face her and propped his elbow up on the back of the couch, tilting his head down somewhat so their foreheads brushed. “Hey, this is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me. This is gonna be awesome.”

“I’m glad it’s that simple for you,” she replied, mirroring his movements; their elbows met in the middle. “It’s going to be a lot of work, Scott.”

“I know,” he shrugged. “But it feels like the right thing to do. I really needed this, after all the crap that’s gone wrong in my life. A chance to prove myself.”

“You’ll have plenty,” she promised. Then, she couldn’t help herself, finding her gaze flickering to his phone; she could see its screen lighting up over and over again, silently chiming in with more notifications. “What’s going on there?”

“Maggie, my ex,” Scott said, sitting up so he could pull it out of his pocket. “I told her I got a job, she’s been bugging me with questions ever since. Told her I’d tell her more later, once your dad gets me up to speed on what I can and can’t tell people.” His grin broadened. “She did send me a couple pictures of Cassie, though. Wanna see?”

Hope nodded almost shyly, her heart melting when Scott turned the screen in her direction. “Oh, Scott, she’s adorable.” It was a series of photos of a little three-year-old girl in a high chair with the biggest, roundest brown eyes Hope had ever seen, grinning toothily at the camera, the majority of her face covered in chocolate cake. “It’s a good reminder - you’re doing this for her.”

“And for me,” he added, tucking his phone away. “And...a little bit for you.”

“Is that so?” she teased, leaning in closer once more. “Just a little bit?”

“Teeny...tiny...ant-sized bit,” Scott whispered, bringing his mouth to hers. Hope groaned, though both of them shook a little with silent laughter as she pulled him in closer, winding her arms around him until their legs were fully intertwined, him pressing her into the couch. Much to Hank’s chagrin, she barely moved to break the kiss when he entered the room and cleared his throat.

“When you two are finished, dinner’s ready,” he said tightly, then turned on his heel and walked right back into the dining room. Hope finally pulled away so she could laugh into Scott’s shoulder, delighting in how pink his face had gotten (though he didn’t look too ashamed of himself, either). Yes, it was more than a maybe; things were going to be just fine.

a/n: I love a good ol' college AU, and getting to do some character exploration of what Hope would be like if her parents were around for her entire adolesence was pretty interesting! And, of course, writing overly-confident, kinda-awkward flirting between these two is one of my favorite things about the Scott/Hope dynamic. I think I'm starting to get the hang of the Ant-fam's characterization?

Thanks so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed :)

#langdyne #scotthope #hopescott #langdyne fic #scotthope fic #myfic #marvel #surprise i guess? #i wrote this one super fast #and honestly i've been in far more of a langdyne mood lately #(and also carol/valkyrie but i'm not sure what to write for it yet) #(and i will get back to ATU i promise!!)

[n00dl3gal]

Quirks (Saiibo Exchange)

Hi @iciclequeentrishna!! I'm your giftee for the @saiiboexchange! I went with your request for Shuichi dealing with Kiibo's quirks, with some other elements mixed in as well. I hope you like it!

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761913

Dating a robot meant adjusting to a few quirks, but Shuichi was OK with that.

He already knew about the inability to eat and the recording function, Kiibo had been up-front with those the first day of class. And whatever features Miu gave him during maintenance were no secret either, what with how loudly she broadcasted them. So even if there was some other oddity Shuichi wasn’t aware of, he’d be well-equipped to deal with it.

Or so he thought.

“You… don’t blink,” he said, subconsciously blinking himself.

Kiibo nodded. “No. I’ve approached both Miu and Professor Idabashi on the subject, but they both agree that it would be a needless feature. Since my eyes are electronic, there’s no real evolutionary need.”

The logic was sound, Shuichi reasoned. Kiibo’s eyes didn’t need to be moistened and his crying was mostly superficial. Blinking would just be a waste of resources.

As he thought, Kiibo’s lower lip quivered. “Is… is that a problem?”

“What? N-no! Kiibo, it’s fine! I was just… surprised, is all,” Shuichi answered quickly. “Although, do remind me to never challenge you to a staring contest.”

“I can do that! Is there a specific date you want me to remind you on?” Kiibo said, smiling again. He was so earnest that Shuichi couldn’t help but laugh behind his hand. “What’s so funny? Shuichi, are you making fun of me? That’s robophobic!”

He laughed even harder. My boyfriend is adorable.

. . .

Shuichi sat at his desk, jotting down a few notes from his investigation. Part of Hope’s Peak education system was “allowing the students to explore their talents,” which meant he would work alongside the local police department. It wasn’t necessarily a confidence booster, but it got him off campus for a while.

Kiibo was lying on Shuichi’s bed, playing with the Helping Yacchi he bought at the school store. Shuichi couldn’t deny he was a bit jealous of both the whale and his boyfriend. But work came first. He only had a bit more to do before-

“Nyahaha! Hello, Shuichi! Hello, Kiibo!”

The detective jumped and his pen flew out of his hand, rolling under the bed. “A-Angie, what the- what’s going on?”

She skipped over to him and tugged on his sleeve. “It’s time to work on our science project! Don’t tell Angie you forgot!” Truthfully, he had forgotten, or at least he wished Angie had. He’d rather work on detective stuff than whatever “science” Angie had in mind, and that was a rarity.

“N-no, I hadn’t, but it’s not polite of you to j-just barge in like that,” he said, peeling her off of him. “I could’ve been… indisposed.”

Angie nodded, smile not wavering one bit. “Angie is sorry, and Atua is too! But you’ll come over and help, right?”

Kiibo sat up and watched them, Yacchi held close to his chest. “If you need to leave, Shuichi, it’s alright. I can go back to my dorm,” he said.

“If you don’t mind. I’ll be over in a minute, Angie. I just need to find my pen,” he explained. Angie laughed and left, and both boys exhaled. “I think it rolled under the bed…” Shuichi bent down, feeling across the dark carpet. “I can’t see anything, dammit!”

“Here, allow me!” There was a quick flash as light filled the void.

Shuichi mumbled his thanks and began his search again, this time successfully. As he stood back up, though, he was nearly blinded by the brightness emitting from Kiibo’s chest. “Ah- could y-you please turn that off?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Kiibo cried as the light vanished. “Are you alright, Shuichi?”

The detective nodded, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m fine, that was just… very bright. Since when did you have a flashlight function?”

“Miu installed it last week! I haven’t had a chance to show it off yet, and I didn’t feel it was worth bringing up… I’m guessing Miu hasn’t mentioned it, either,” Kiibo said, twiddling his fingers. “I hope that’s not a problem!”

Shuichi shook his head and laughed softly. “It’s not a problem at all, Kiibo. In fact, it was very helpful. Thank you.” He wrapped his arms around the robot, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll stop by your dorm after I finish with Angie.” He stepped away, still holding Kiibo’s shoulders, expression suddenly solemn. “If I’m not there in two hours, call the police.”

. . .

Shuichi was well aware he spent an inordinate amount of time in the Hope’s Peak library. It came with his Ultimate; the logs of case records and legal files rivaled that of the police department’s. Even if he wasn’t a detective, he’d still be in there to do research for class or find a new novel to enjoy in his few free moments. So yes, he was thankful the library existed and he was always welcome there. But it also made him easy to find.

Not that he minded when Kiibo interrupted him, but still.

“Kiibo, what’s wrong? Wh-” Shuichi’s eyes flicked up at the robot’s hair. “Where’s your antenna?”

“Kokichi stole it!” Kiibo whined, eyes watering. So it’s detachable, then, Shuichi thought. But Kiibo seems unhappy that it’s gone, so maybe it’s not meant to be removed anyway. But I suppose it’s good to know his new crying function works... “He s-said something about u-using it as a scepter o-or- can you help me get it back, Shuichi?”

The detective nodded, shutting his book. “Of course. Where were you when he stole it?”

“Our classroom, he ran towards the right wing a-afterwards,” Kiibo said, still sniffling. Shuichi reached into his backpack and pulled out a pack of tissues. “Th-thank you,” he mumbled, blowing his nose. Not that anything would happen, it mostly just calmed Kiibo down and made him feel more human.

The pair jogged along, heading to the stairwell, when Shuichi noticed a third party. “Gonta, have you seen Kokichi anywhere?”

“Oh! Shuichi, Kiibo! Gonta just see Kokichi!” the larger boy said, waving at them. “He said he had to hide from you and not tell you which way he went…”

Kiibo sighed. “That sounds like him… Gonta, Kokichi took something very important from me and we’re trying to get it back. Could you please tell us where he went?”

Gonta blinked and frowned. “Kokichi… steal from Kiibo? That’s not what gentleman does!” he said, curling his fists.

“No, it’s not,” Shuichi agreed, tugging on his hat. “But a gentleman would help us recover what was taken. So please, which way did he go?” he asked with a smile.

The entomologist nodded and pointed towards the dining hall. “Kokichi go that way!”

“Thank you Gonta!” Kiibo yelled as the pair dashed forward. Shuichi glanced backwards to see him wave goodbye before focusing on their location.

It’s unlikely that Kokichi headed for the dining hall, seeing as Kirumi would be in there and she would likely stop him. Maki is in charge of the school store today, which means Kokichi would avoid it at all costs. That only leaves-

“He’s in the warehouse!” he said, grabbing Kiibo’s hand and pulling him to the door. Sure enough, when they entered the warehouse, Kokichi was there, waving the antenna like a conductor’s baton. “Kokichi, give that back!”

“Hey guys!” Kokichi laughed, drawing out the last syllable. “I was wondering when you’d get here, I was so boooorrreeed waiting for you,” he whined. “But maybe that was a lie and I’m really pissed to see you, who knows?”

“Kokichi, please give me back my antenna,” Kiibo pleaded. The robot stuck his hand out. “I don’t want to drag this out.”

“Aww, don’t want to spend time with lil’ ol’ me? I’m so hurt, ahhhhhhh!” The smaller boy burst into tears which evaporated as soon as they started. “But it’s not surprising, really. After all, robots can’t really make friends with humans, can they?” Kokichi asked, arms behind his head.

Shuichi could hear Kiibo’s blood- well, oil- boil. “That’s incredibly robophobic! You know very well I am able to form bonds with all of my classmates!”

Shuichi nodded. “And you’re aware that Kiibo and I are… are d-dating,” he sputtered, managing to suppress his blush. “B-but that’s not the point. Kokichi, give me the antenna back or I’ll be forced to involve the faculty.”

“Fiiinnneee… it’s not fun stealing from you guys, anyway,” Kokichi conceded, tossing the antenna to Kiibo. “You always do exactly what I expect and it’s so boring.” He skipped over to the door and opened it with a flourish. “Or is it?” The supreme leader glanced back at the pair of lovers. “You dating was a surprise… maybe you are entertaining. Nahhhhh, I’m just kidding! Nee-hee-hee!” And with that, the door shut with a resounding thwang .

Kiibo exhaled deeply. “Thank you, Shuichi,” he said earnestly, smiling at the other boy. “Do you mind helping me fix it-”

“Ah, no problem!” Shuichi yelped, taking the antenna and re-attaching it to the robot’s head. “There, did I do it correctly?” Kiibo nodded and he grinned. “Good. I’d hate to cause you additional harm.” Something about that comment, however, must have upset Kiibo, as he teared up a moment later. “Wh- Kiibo, are you alright? Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“I-I’m fine, it’s just… nobody’s ever been as kind to me as you are,” Kiibo sniffled, fat drops rolling down his cheeks. “A-aside from Professor Idabashi, of course, but- you’re incredibly nice, Shuichi…”

“Oh Kiibo,” Shuichi whispered, pulling his boyfriend into a hug. “You deserve kindness, alright? Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.” In a moment of bravery, he bent down and pressed a quick kiss to Kiibo’s cheeks. While he expected the wetness, the saltiness of traditional tears was nowhere to be found. “Kiibo… what are your tears made out of?”

“Coolant, if I remember correctly…”

Shuichi paled and pursed his lips. “Ah… do you mind escorting me to the nurse’s office?”

(He made a mental note to never kiss a crying Kiibo again, no matter how much it hurt him.)

. . .

As much as he enjoyed attending Hope’s Peak, Shuichi still disliked gym class. He reasoned he’d dislike it no matter the school, simply due to his less-than-athletic nature. But as far as gym classes, free day in the pool wasn’t the worst option.

Admittedly, he was uneasy having his bare chest exposed, but having all his classmates in their swimsuits too lessened the discomfort. Well, almost all of his classmates. Kiibo sat on the bleachers alone, unable to swim due to his weight. Shuichi was a bit lonely without his boyfriend, truth be told, even if Kiibo insisted he’d be alright. “I do wish I could swim with you, but my bulk, even without my armor, would just cause me to sink. But I’ll be cheering for you from the bleachers!” Shuichi wasn’t sure what he’d be cheering him on for, but he appreciated the sentiment.

He waved at Kiibo from the waters, smiling when the robot waved back. “Pity we don’t get to see him shirtless, too,” said a voice from behind him. “Everyone could see his lack of nips!”

“Ah- Miu, don’t scare me like that!” he chastised, turning to face her. “Wait, what did you say?”

“What, are your ears as clogged up as your asshole? I said he doesn’t have any nipples!” Miu yelled, jabbing at his chest.

Immediately, Shuichi blanched. “N-not so loud… But are you serious?” His voice dropped a decibel. “He doesn’t have n-nip-nipples?” He could barely get the word out, each syllable a stutter from embarrassment.

Miu shrugged, flicking some hair behind her shoulder. “Course I am, dickweed! I know Keebs better than anyone, inside and out! Kyahahaha!”

“Fascinating,” Korekiyo said as he floated past. “Although logical, really. Kiibo would have no need for them.” He’s right, Shuichi thought, seeing as they’re already useless on human men. It would be silly if Professor Idabashi had built them. “But just another difference between humans and robots, it seems,” the anthropologist added.

“Th-that’s robophobic,” Shuichi mumbled, glancing back up at Kiibo.

Miu began cackling again, legs kicking up gushes of water. “Holy shit, are you two that close? What, did you swallow a bunch of his cum and oil and turn into a robot too?” she teased, poking his chest. On instinct, Shuichi reached for his hat, only to be met with his bangs. Instead, he settled for sinking deeper into the pool.

Korekiyo rolled his eyes, and Shuichi imagined he was frowning under his mask. Wait, he still wears that even while swimming? “Miu, stop being quite so vulgar. Some of us are trying to enjoy our time here.”

Miu immediately recoiled and flushed, stammering. Kaede swam over from her game of volleyball with Tenko to grab her shoulder. “C’mon, Miu, let’s go over here, yeah?” the pianist said quietly with a smile. Miu nodded. “Alright. Sorry boys.”

“Not at all,” Korekiyo drawled, while Shuichi just nodded in their direction.

“Y’all wanna talk about nips, talk about these two beauties right here,” Miu said to herself as she and Kaede swam away.

Korekiyo looked at Shuichi closely. “Shuichi, I would like to ask a small favor of you.”

“A-ah? What is it?”

“Your relationship with Kiibo… it’s quite interesting to me, given my area of expertise. Human and robot relations are a relatively new field and it’s possible I could be the first to report on the subject. Would you be opposed to granting me an interview about you two? Kiibo could join, of course, I’d rather welcome his input,” Korekiyo explained.

Shuichi scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll have to ask Kiibo first, but I suppose it wouldn’t be a problem… truth be told, I’m still learning a lot about him.”

“Kehehe… only natural. We learn new things about our lovers every day. Please, do let me know when you have a definitive answer.” And as quickly as he came, Korekiyo disappeared.

With a sigh, Shuichi kicked and began floating on his back. He truly loved his classmates, but they were all a little bit odd.

. . .

Strictly speaking, students weren’t supposed to have guests overnight in the dorms. They would turn a blind eye to same-sex sleepovers, but no co-ed mingling was allowed. Shuichi knew it was to prevent anything naughty that would soil Hope’s Peak’s reputation, but… well, maybe it was just his class that was abnormally non-heterosexual.

Kiibo shuffled closer, laying his head on Shuichi’s shoulder. “Statistically speaking, it was inevitable for you to one day accuse the wrong person. Mostly due to your inexperience and age,” he said quietly, intertwining their fingers.

Shuichi sighed and pulled off his reading glasses. “I know, and I agree, but… it would be nice if you just gave me some general comforting platitudes, Kiibo.”

“A-ah! I’m sorry! Um… you’ll get them next time!” Kiibo chirped, and Shuichi couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, it’s already working! Should I continue?”

The detective shook his head. “I’d rather just go to sleep, if you don’t mind. Although having you around to c-cuddle will help,” he added, kissing Kiibo’s nose. Their faces mirrored each other in scarlet. He stood and turned off the light, lips upturning when he heard Kiibo shift beneath the covers. A moment later, he joined the robot. “Do you want to be facing in or out tonight?”

“In, so I can protect you from your personal demons!” Kiibo announced. “I realize that’s not how it actually works, of course, but it’s a symbolic gesture…”

Shuichi laughed and rolled onto his side. “I understand, Kiibo. I really appreciate it.” Truth be told, he really did enjoy being the little spoon. He felt safe with Kiibo’s arms. And those arms wouldn’t be sore and and potentially dislocated the next morning, unlike Shuichi’s.

Kiibo hummed and buried his face in Shuichi’s hair. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy,” he whispered. “Within reason, of course.” His nose brushed aside a few strands to reveal the nape of Shuichi’s neck. “Huh? Shuichi, you have some kind of mark on the back of your neck!”

“Wh-what? What does it look like?” Shuichi asked panickingly. He started to twist around, but Kiibo’s grip held him in place.

“It’s sort of pink and blotchy…”

Shuichi exhaled. “Oh, it’s my birthmark, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Birthmark? I apologize, but I’m not entirely familiar with that term,” Kiibo mumbled.

“It’s essentially a discoloration or raised portion of the skin, present since birth. The little dot by Maki’s eye, that’s a birthmark. I believe the particular mark I have is called a ‘stork’s bite,’ colloquially.”

Kiibo nodded, face still rubbing against Shuichi’s skin. “I see. Professor Idabashi did once mention something about babies being delivered by storks, perhaps this is related!” Shuichi opened his mouth to protest and explain the truth- do I really have the mental fortitude to explain human reproduction to my robot boyfriend?- when Kiibo continued. “Still, I’m glad to have learned about this additional human experience; maybe I’ll ask the Professor to give me a birthmark.” And then, in a movement that surprised them both, he pushed aside the hair and kissed the mark.

Shuichi immediately shivered. “A-ah…” he gasped, shuddering against Kiibo.

The robot immediately recoiled. “Shuichi, did I hurt you?”

“N-no… that actually felt really nice. I guess that spot must be sensitive,” Shuichi admitted. Tentatively, Kiibo kissed the spot again. Shuichi rolled over and grabbed Kiibo’s hand. “Kiibo… I. I l-love you.”

He had thought it before, of course, but saying it was an entirely different matter. What if Kiibo wasn’t prepared for such a confession? Would their sleepy cuddles evolve into something more risque? Were either of them ready for that sort of encounter?

But Kiibo, despite all his blushing, managed to squeeze Shuichi’s hand. He inhaled, despite it not being necessary, and breathed out “I-I love you, too.” He pressed his forehead to the human and smiled.

Dating a human meant adjusting to a few quirks, but Kiibo was OK with that.

#noodle writes #saiiboexchange #iciclequeentrishna #saiibo #danganronpa fanfiction #saiibo exchange #danganronpa #fanfic #saikiibo #shuichi saihara #k1-b0 #kiibo

[bisoroblog]

What’s So Different About High Tech High Anyway?

Walking onto a High Tech High campus is like entering a workshop. Our tour guide, sophomore Caroline Egler, pointed out classrooms that supposedly housed physics or humanities or biology, but most students weren’t in those rooms. They were in the hallways working on projects, huddled around computers together, or even working at desks elevated 8 feet above the ground so they towered over the floor. Students seem to be working with purpose, even if it’s not immediately obvious what they’re doing. The scene is chaotic, but not out of control.

It’s not always like this, Egler assured us, a group of education journalists visiting as part of the Education Writers Association’s Rethinking the American High School seminar. Students at this campus of the San Diego-based charter network seemed more frantic than usual because they were rushing to finish projects they’d been working on all semester, she said. They’d be exhibiting their work to real-world audiences at the end of the week.

‘All of this is stuff students are researching and learning about, but it’s all integrated into this project, rather than being this cold, removed, isolated content that we study for a while and then we move on to the next thing.’Russell Walker, Humanities teacher at High Tech High

Each student had to develop a physical product to represent their learning over the semester; they planned to exhibit their work at the Mexican border in coordination with Mexican students they had been working with over Skype since the class began.

Egler explained that she was making a podcast — complete with original music composed by a classmate — about differing views on President Trump’s proposed border wall with Mexico. Other students in her class were exploring topics like drug trafficking and sexual harassment; the only requirement was that the project relate to the border. It was a shared project between Spanish and humanities classes.

These kinds of community-grounded events are part of what High Tech High calls real-world work. The learning and its products are displayed not just to teachers, students or even parents, but to a larger community of experts. That gives school assignments more relevance — the work actually matters to the world.

The other thing visitors immediately notice about the school is the incredible work hanging from ceilings, lining the walls, and built into the hallways. Photographs, a bridge to nowhere, self-portraits, full-size boats, weather balloons, robots — beautiful work is celebrated at the school and its constant presence reminds students of the high expectations their teachers set for them.

The High Tech High network mostly operates on the California per-pupil funding formula, but it chooses to allocate its money very differently from many other school systems. High Tech High School doesn’t have a football team, a library or textbooks, all pricey areas where the school saves some money. It also offers few class choices to students; for the most part, students take classes that satisfy the University of California’s A-G requirements. And many teachers have dual credentials, allowing them to teach multiple subjects or combine subjects.

Boat-making is a favorite High Tech High project. (Katrina Schwartz)

But what seems like a lack of choice in classes isn’t as limiting as one might think. The charter network’s schools are built around four essential design principles: equity, personalization, authentic work and collaborative design. While those guiding principles are at the heart of every class, there’s a lot of variety in every other way. And students are encouraged to pursue ideas they’re passionate about, which allows for some of the choice they might otherwise lack.

For example, Aaron Price is in the same humanities-Spanish class as Caroline Egler. He built a data logger that he attached to a weather balloon and used it to measure CO2 levels at the border. He was part of a team investigating shared environmental concerns in the U.S.-Mexico border region. Price’s physical work product was more technical, but he also wrote and published a research paper, as well as a website with his findings. It’s almost like Egler with her political podcast and Price with his weather balloon are in two different classes. That’s what personalization looks like at High Tech High schools, and it’s why students don’t mind that the course catalog is limited.

The charter network accepts students through a lottery that randomly takes a certain number of students from every ZIP code in San Diego. Since the city, like many others, has many neighborhoods that are racially and ethnically isolated, this ensures the student body reflects San Diego’s population.

SS learn about blood types, heredity and codominance of traits by typing themselves- one of the most engaging labs of the year! @hightechhigh #labscience #shareyourlearning #deeperlearning #biology pic.twitter.com/bVGGuHCC2F

— KalleApplegatePalmer (@palmer_kalle) January 25, 2018

Personalization is achieved in part by keeping class sizes small; teachers have the opportunity to get to know students and their passions well. They can adapt projects to students’ interests, and push individuals to do their best work.

“It is not students all sitting in front of computers doing a self-paced math program,” said Larry Rosenstock, founding principal and CEO of High Tech High. “It is not finding the right pace or right technique to get this inert content to each student.”

Instead, personalization at High Tech High is a partnership between the teacher and student to find an authentic project that genuinely motivates students to produce meaningful work. And, because teachers’ schedules are arranged so they see fewer students at a time, they can push the young people they work with to reach individual goals.

“It means you and the student are going to work together to design something that’s going to be academically relevant to what you’re trying to teach them, but also personally meaningful to the student,” said Russell Walker, an 11th-grade history teacher. He designs the broad strokes of the project, but students take it in many different directions.

“I would say it is criminal negligence if you’re not doing that in project-based learning,” Walker said. “Because if you’re saying, ‘Here’s this project and you’re all going to make the same thing,’ that’s not really very interesting. They’ll just copy what you did.”

Involving S voice into the development of a project provides expert insight, valuable information, and creative solutions! We invite Ss into our work to give them voice and standing…How do you engage Ss in the process of planning and learning? pic.twitter.com/WmnPaE5eg7

— Edrick Macalaguim (@EdrickMac) January 3, 2018

During the fall semester, Walker collaborated with a biology teacher on a semester-long project about space colonization. Students were tasked with thinking through what they’d need to sustain life off earth, and along the way they learned about DNA, cell replication, physiological systems in the body, ecosystems and more.

“It’s all the stuff you would normally do in a biology class,” Walker said, “but it’s applied in a way that students are interested in learning and applying it.”

For the history side of things, students had to decide what kind of society they would build on their space colony. To do that, they read political theory and philosophers from the Enlightenment. Students discussed the mistakes of colonialism, and covered a broad swath of history as they worked to create something better on their new planet.

“All of this is stuff students are researching and learning about, but it’s all integrated into this project, rather than being this cold, removed, isolated content that we study for a while and then we move on to the next thing,” Walker said.

Walker used to teach Advanced Placement environmental science at a high school in Los Angeles, where he taught 150 students each day and was expected to help as many as possible pass the AP test. He said the experience left him feeling uninspired as a professional and drained of his creativity because he spent hours handling the minutiae of lesson planning and grading.

Now, Walker says he works with 48 students (although some High Tech High teachers see between 50-100 students in core classes). His time as an educator is spent researching to prepare a great project, experimenting with the tasks for students, meeting one-on-one with students, providing critique and feedback on their work, and generally engaging with students around ideas.

@hightechhigh beautiful school, ethos and people! John, thanks again for the tour! pic.twitter.com/xLbGCwDIdd

— Nicholas Pattison (@CubedSTEM) January 12, 2018

“As a teacher, it’s way more fun and interesting to work here,” Walker said. “And I think a lot of teachers who are burned out or losing hope on the way things are running could benefit from shifting to [project-based learning].”

Another High Tech High teacher, Mike Strong, agreed that one of his favorite things about the school is the autonomy it offers him. Teachers are treated as professionals and are allowed to be creative, he said. That’s a tall order, and can be exhausting, but it’s much more exciting. And when teachers are given autonomy, they tend to transfer it to students as well.

Egler said her teachers trust her — something she’s come to expect.

“Teachers trust that if they put [students] outside of the class and let them go, that the students are going to be diligent and get to work,” she said.

If a particular student fails to live up to her end of the bargain, or is flagrantly disrespectful, the teacher can take away privileges. The school doesn’t give detentions and only rarely suspends or expels students, according to Egler. Instead, students will have a conversation with the teacher about their behavior and will be asked to think of a way to make amends.

Mark Aguirre, a ninth-grade humanities teacher, sees a lot of students who don’t think they like school, but when they’re 14, there’s still a chance to convince them that they’re wrong. He admits it doesn’t work for every kid, and some do leave, but he’s been teaching at High Tech High since 2001 and says he firmly believes it works for most students.

“You have to convince them that what we’re doing has value by coming up with something interesting for them to do,” he said.

Aside from the small class sizes, autonomy, project-based curriculum, freedom to design classes based on loose themes, and expectation that students will create work that experts will want to evaluate, High Tech High is different from the conventional high school in other ways. Students aren’t tracked, and there are no AP classes. All students can opt into honors-level work, which comes with a few different requirements but doesn’t separate them into a different section. Crucially, students decide whether they want to be on the honors track two to three weeks into the semester, which gives tentative students the opportunity to try out honors-level work before committing.

“My first instinct was that honors students should read more or different books than the non-honors students,” said Randy Scherer, who used to teach English at the school, but now directs the High Tech High Graduate School’s professional development program to support other project-based-learning teachers.

He soon realized that only kids who already loved reading were signing up for honors. That didn’t seem fair; he realized he was just padding the GPAs of kids who would read anyway. Instead he defined honors as “adding knowledge to the world that did not exist,” such as by building Wikipedia pages and writing books, for example.

“We’re trying to be creatively compliant,” Scherer said. “We have to do something so people will recognize it. But we really want everyone to be in honors.”

The charter network has skillfully pushed boundaries while making sure its students aren’t disadvantaged when they apply to college, according to Scherer. After nearly 20 years, they’ve got a good reputation, which gives them more wiggle room with the state.

“Some of the practices we push on students, like reflection, teachers do that as well,” said teacher Mike Strong about working at a charter network like High Tech High. “There’s constant critique and revision for even things like how we have meetings.”

That can become exhausting, but it’s also what keeps the school from regressing to the mean, one of Larry Rosenstock’s biggest fears.

What’s So Different About High Tech High Anyway? published first on https://dlbusinessnow.tumblr.com/

[perfectzablog]

What’s So Different About High Tech High Anyway?

Walking onto a High Tech High campus is like entering a workshop. Our tour guide, sophomore Caroline Egler, pointed out classrooms that supposedly housed physics or humanities or biology, but most students weren’t in those rooms. They were in the hallways working on projects, huddled around computers together, or even working at desks elevated 8 feet above the ground so they towered over the floor. Students seem to be working with purpose, even if it’s not immediately obvious what they’re doing. The scene is chaotic, but not out of control.

It’s not always like this, Egler assured us, a group of education journalists visiting as part of the Education Writers Association’s Rethinking the American High School seminar. Students at this campus of the San Diego-based charter network seemed more frantic than usual because they were rushing to finish projects they’d been working on all semester, she said. They’d be exhibiting their work to real-world audiences at the end of the week.

‘All of this is stuff students are researching and learning about, but it’s all integrated into this project, rather than being this cold, removed, isolated content that we study for a while and then we move on to the next thing.’Russell Walker, Humanities teacher at High Tech High

Each student had to develop a physical product to represent their learning over the semester; they planned to exhibit their work at the Mexican border in coordination with Mexican students they had been working with over Skype since the class began.

Egler explained that she was making a podcast — complete with original music composed by a classmate — about differing views on President Trump’s proposed border wall with Mexico. Other students in her class were exploring topics like drug trafficking and sexual harassment; the only requirement was that the project relate to the border. It was a shared project between Spanish and humanities classes.

These kinds of community-grounded events are part of what High Tech High calls real-world work. The learning and its products are displayed not just to teachers, students or even parents, but to a larger community of experts. That gives school assignments more relevance — the work actually matters to the world.

The other thing visitors immediately notice about the school is the incredible work hanging from ceilings, lining the walls, and built into the hallways. Photographs, a bridge to nowhere, self-portraits, full-size boats, weather balloons, robots — beautiful work is celebrated at the school and its constant presence reminds students of the high expectations their teachers set for them.

The High Tech High network mostly operates on the California per-pupil funding formula, but it chooses to allocate its money very differently from many other school systems. High Tech High School doesn’t have a football team, a library or textbooks, all pricey areas where the school saves some money. It also offers few class choices to students; for the most part, students take classes that satisfy the University of California’s A-G requirements. And many teachers have dual credentials, allowing them to teach multiple subjects or combine subjects.

Boat-making is a favorite High Tech High project. (Katrina Schwartz)

But what seems like a lack of choice in classes isn’t as limiting as one might think. The charter network’s schools are built around four essential design principles: equity, personalization, authentic work and collaborative design. While those guiding principles are at the heart of every class, there’s a lot of variety in every other way. And students are encouraged to pursue ideas they’re passionate about, which allows for some of the choice they might otherwise lack.

For example, Aaron Price is in the same humanities-Spanish class as Caroline Egler. He built a data logger that he attached to a weather balloon and used it to measure CO2 levels at the border. He was part of a team investigating shared environmental concerns in the U.S.-Mexico border region. Price’s physical work product was more technical, but he also wrote and published a research paper, as well as a website with his findings. It’s almost like Egler with her political podcast and Price with his weather balloon are in two different classes. That’s what personalization looks like at High Tech High schools, and it’s why students don’t mind that the course catalog is limited.

The charter network accepts students through a lottery that randomly takes a certain number of students from every ZIP code in San Diego. Since the city, like many others, has many neighborhoods that are racially and ethnically isolated, this ensures the student body reflects San Diego’s population.

SS learn about blood types, heredity and codominance of traits by typing themselves- one of the most engaging labs of the year! @hightechhigh #labscience #shareyourlearning #deeperlearning #biology pic.twitter.com/bVGGuHCC2F

— KalleApplegatePalmer (@palmer_kalle) January 25, 2018

Personalization is achieved in part by keeping class sizes small; teachers have the opportunity to get to know students and their passions well. They can adapt projects to students’ interests, and push individuals to do their best work.

“It is not students all sitting in front of computers doing a self-paced math program,” said Larry Rosenstock, founding principal and CEO of High Tech High. “It is not finding the right pace or right technique to get this inert content to each student.”

Instead, personalization at High Tech High is a partnership between the teacher and student to find an authentic project that genuinely motivates students to produce meaningful work. And, because teachers’ schedules are arranged so they see fewer students at a time, they can push the young people they work with to reach individual goals.

“It means you and the student are going to work together to design something that’s going to be academically relevant to what you’re trying to teach them, but also personally meaningful to the student,” said Russell Walker, an 11th-grade history teacher. He designs the broad strokes of the project, but students take it in many different directions.

“I would say it is criminal negligence if you’re not doing that in project-based learning,” Walker said. “Because if you’re saying, ‘Here’s this project and you’re all going to make the same thing,’ that’s not really very interesting. They’ll just copy what you did.”

Involving S voice into the development of a project provides expert insight, valuable information, and creative solutions! We invite Ss into our work to give them voice and standing…How do you engage Ss in the process of planning and learning? pic.twitter.com/WmnPaE5eg7

— Edrick Macalaguim (@EdrickMac) January 3, 2018

During the fall semester, Walker collaborated with a biology teacher on a semester-long project about space colonization. Students were tasked with thinking through what they’d need to sustain life off earth, and along the way they learned about DNA, cell replication, physiological systems in the body, ecosystems and more.

“It’s all the stuff you would normally do in a biology class,” Walker said, “but it’s applied in a way that students are interested in learning and applying it.”

For the history side of things, students had to decide what kind of society they would build on their space colony. To do that, they read political theory and philosophers from the Enlightenment. Students discussed the mistakes of colonialism, and covered a broad swath of history as they worked to create something better on their new planet.

“All of this is stuff students are researching and learning about, but it’s all integrated into this project, rather than being this cold, removed, isolated content that we study for a while and then we move on to the next thing,” Walker said.

Walker used to teach Advanced Placement environmental science at a high school in Los Angeles, where he taught 150 students each day and was expected to help as many as possible pass the AP test. He said the experience left him feeling uninspired as a professional and drained of his creativity because he spent hours handling the minutiae of lesson planning and grading.

Now, Walker says he works with 48 students (although some High Tech High teachers see between 50-100 students in core classes). His time as an educator is spent researching to prepare a great project, experimenting with the tasks for students, meeting one-on-one with students, providing critique and feedback on their work, and generally engaging with students around ideas.

@hightechhigh beautiful school, ethos and people! John, thanks again for the tour! pic.twitter.com/xLbGCwDIdd

— Nicholas Pattison (@CubedSTEM) January 12, 2018

“As a teacher, it’s way more fun and interesting to work here,” Walker said. “And I think a lot of teachers who are burned out or losing hope on the way things are running could benefit from shifting to [project-based learning].”

Another High Tech High teacher, Mike Strong, agreed that one of his favorite things about the school is the autonomy it offers him. Teachers are treated as professionals and are allowed to be creative, he said. That’s a tall order, and can be exhausting, but it’s much more exciting. And when teachers are given autonomy, they tend to transfer it to students as well.

Egler said her teachers trust her — something she’s come to expect.

“Teachers trust that if they put [students] outside of the class and let them go, that the students are going to be diligent and get to work,” she said.

If a particular student fails to live up to her end of the bargain, or is flagrantly disrespectful, the teacher can take away privileges. The school doesn’t give detentions and only rarely suspends or expels students, according to Egler. Instead, students will have a conversation with the teacher about their behavior and will be asked to think of a way to make amends.

Mark Aguirre, a ninth-grade humanities teacher, sees a lot of students who don’t think they like school, but when they’re 14, there’s still a chance to convince them that they’re wrong. He admits it doesn’t work for every kid, and some do leave, but he’s been teaching at High Tech High since 2001 and says he firmly believes it works for most students.

“You have to convince them that what we’re doing has value by coming up with something interesting for them to do,” he said.

Aside from the small class sizes, autonomy, project-based curriculum, freedom to design classes based on loose themes, and expectation that students will create work that experts will want to evaluate, High Tech High is different from the conventional high school in other ways. Students aren’t tracked, and there are no AP classes. All students can opt into honors-level work, which comes with a few different requirements but doesn’t separate them into a different section. Crucially, students decide whether they want to be on the honors track two to three weeks into the semester, which gives tentative students the opportunity to try out honors-level work before committing.

“My first instinct was that honors students should read more or different books than the non-honors students,” said Randy Scherer, who used to teach English at the school, but now directs the High Tech High Graduate School’s professional development program to support other project-based-learning teachers.

He soon realized that only kids who already loved reading were signing up for honors. That didn’t seem fair; he realized he was just padding the GPAs of kids who would read anyway. Instead he defined honors as “adding knowledge to the world that did not exist,” such as by building Wikipedia pages and writing books, for example.

“We’re trying to be creatively compliant,” Scherer said. “We have to do something so people will recognize it. But we really want everyone to be in honors.”

The charter network has skillfully pushed boundaries while making sure its students aren’t disadvantaged when they apply to college, according to Scherer. After nearly 20 years, they’ve got a good reputation, which gives them more wiggle room with the state.

“Some of the practices we push on students, like reflection, teachers do that as well,” said teacher Mike Strong about working at a charter network like High Tech High. “There’s constant critique and revision for even things like how we have meetings.”

That can become exhausting, but it’s also what keeps the school from regressing to the mean, one of Larry Rosenstock’s biggest fears.

What’s So Different About High Tech High Anyway? published first on https://greatpricecourse.tumblr.com/