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ficticity · 8 months

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SHOOT

warning: this story may contain content not suitable for all readers. discretion is advised.

ENTRY #1: Ryder Gretzky

I DID NOT CONSIDER MYSELF A PSYCHOPATH.

In theory, a psychopath is a person who suffers from a chronic mental disorder with abnormal or violent social behaviour; a madman.

According to that definition, I had no psychopathic tendencies. I hadn't been diagnosed with any mental illnesses; I didn't behave abnormally–at least I hoped so. And I never ever exhibited any violent social behaviour.

But I suppose you haven't been reading correctly. If you were, you would have noticed that I referred to myself in the past tense. Meaning that before now I was what most people dubbed normal.

I guess stalking your best friend isn't normal. Not for most anyway.

I've known Ryder Gretzky since freshman year. A lanky boy who sat at the back of my math class and played chess on his phone instead of paying attention to Mrs. Morrison's lessons on slope and rate of change. He was tall. Really tall. The first thing I asked him was if he played basketball. He didn't. He preferred cricket.

Easthill High doesn't have a cricket team, but they have a football team. We joined together in sophomore year and climbed to the top pretty quickly. I became quarterback–still am. Ryder was a fullback—still is. I always counted on him–still do.

For someone his height, he was fast and powerful. Not to mention smooth when it came to tackling a real sport.

Girls.

They loved Ryder. Every aspect of him - from his auburn hair to his brown eyes, and particularly the two dimples situated perfectly on each cheek. I also loved Ryder too–still do. But it wasn't long before he got together with Stephanie Rodriguez.

I had never seen two human beings so perfect for one another. I was prone to believe God put them both on this planet for the sole purpose of finding each other.

I watch him stop by his locker to talk to Stephanie for a few minutes before they both head out the main doors together. They're all smiles and laughter. He's got his arm around her shoulders and she's got her lips on his cheek, a long way to go for someone her height.

The poor thing doesn't know what's coming. That I'm going to steal the only person she's learned to give her glass heart to. The death of a loved one is a strange thing. Why love when we're all going to die? It only makes the pain worse. I prefer distance, not attachment. Attachment makes people do crazy, crazy things.

I make sure to put some distance between us, stopping to hide around some corners, casually greeting a few other students, anything to seem normal.

As I exit and follow them, I observe them engaged in a passionate kiss near her vehicle. Although I have no intention of being invasive, I find myself unable to walk away. My objective is to relieve Ryder of any discomfort or distress he may be experiencing, which is the justification I offer myself.

When they're finally finished, Stephanie gets into the vehicle and drives off.

Ryder walks home every day. It used to be with me. Then I'm suddenly forgotten and the only thing on his mind is Stephanie. She stole him from me. Which is understandable, right? She's his girlfriend. But let's be honest, he isn't trying hard to remember me. We only know each other on the field.

I don't hate Ryder Gretzky. There's just an ache somewhere deep inside me. An evergrowing chasm of curiosity and wonder. A part of me that just wants to open him up and see what the hell it is that makes Ryder, well, Ryder.

I want to see his blood, and it terrifies me.

He starts down the sidewalk that leads away from the school building and takes the next right. I make sure to keep the sound of my footsteps to a minimum. The last thing I need is for him to know it's me. It'll be easier if he doesn't. Maybe he won't hate me more than he already does.

"Monty!"

I halt mid-step but don't turn to face the source of that eccentric voice. "Hey Monty, is that you?"

Monty. It's always been Jackson, Jack or Jacky. Only one girl has a special way of twisting my name into something that sounds like it belongs in a classic film from my mom's era.

"Wait up! I need to talk to you!"

She's an explosion of quirkiness, a real dramatist, a true oddball. A living, breathing, half-bred Russian and South African who's perpetually captivated by the tiniest of details. If I had been observant in the corridors earlier, I might have glimpsed her dashing toward the drama room in a frenzy of untamed papers and rich mahogany locks.

Darcy Ivanov.

She has a knack for finding me at the strangest of times. She's found me again, Ryder is now long gone.

Fuck.

Darcy jogs towards me with one of the most radiant smiles on her face. She waves exuberantly, her round hazel eyes shining beneath her round-rimmed glasses. "It feels like I haven't seen you in months, Monty. How are ya?"

I grunt an answer. As I said, I don't talk much to her.

"Anyway," she babbles on, "the drama club is putting on a school play. Are you gonna watch it? It'll be really cool. It's like Romeo and Juliet, except, cooler. You should've auditioned. I'm sure you would've gotten Romeo. You've got his blonde hair already, and those pretty blue eyes."

Darcy rocks back and forth on her heels, hands in the pocket of her beige suede skirt as she awaits my answer. As always, she doesn't receive one. "Monty, you've got such nice eyes. It's like an ocean in there."

Spinning on my heel, I begin to march in the opposite direction and away from Darcy. I failed my mission all thanks to her. Ryder is gone, and so is my only chance at finally satisfying the only craving I have.

"Wait, Monty!" she calls after me and races to my side. I don't look down at her, but she's got her eyes on me and that dazzling smile on her face. "You're so tall. I have to look up, up, up to talk to you."

I stay quiet and let my fingers curl around the Swiss Army knife in my pocket. I don't say it, but listening to her voice gives me some sort of high.

"That sucks because everyone around me is so tall. Papa. Dedushka. Uncle Abram. Mama's got height too. I don't and neither does Babushka." Her laughter is finely tuned to bring a rush of heat to my cheeks and an electric shock to my lungs. "Sad, huh? Papa looks especially tall when he speaks Russian. Kinda gives him un air de supériorité. But he always calls me his Zvezda. Star."

"You're not even short. Plus, you can speak Russian, most girls can't do that. So if you ask me, you're odd and grandly fucking irritating to be around."

I surprise her with my voice. I surprise myself too. My own sounds are foreign to me. Like I forget I even have the ability to form words.

"You think so?"

"That's a redundant question. I already gave you an answer."

She giggles. "You're pretty funny, Monty. Mostly pretty."

"Hmph, okay."

Darcy lets her eyes sweep over my face as she breaks out into another grin. I look away before she can tempt a smile out of me.

"Let's go get ice cream. It's hot out here."

"I'm lactose intolerant."

"When has that ever stopped anyone from having a little fun?"

I steal another glance at her. Instead of replying, I stop and start walking in the other direction, towards a place I hope is an ice cream shop. Darcy is absolutely beaming because she knows it too.

She reaches up on her toes and plants a little kiss on my cheek. It reminds me of Ryder and Stephanie; she had kissed him too. I'm guessing he feels this way about her. The same way I'm trying not to feel about Darcy.

She has my stomach knotted and tangled in all sorts of ways. And it's weird. Good weird. I don't get it and I don't like it. But it's not the worst thing in the world.

"You're my hero, Monty. I'll be able to get home without melting into a puddle first."

"Yeah." I glance down at her. "We wouldn't want you melting, now would we?"

◣━━━━━━━━━━━◢

Thank you for reading the first chapter of Shoot!

Let me know your thoughts. Share and reblog!

#female writers #my writing #writers on tumblr #writing blog #creative writing #fiction #short story #sensitive #high school #romance #love story #love #toxic relationship #writeblr #writerscommunity #writers #writing

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encyclopika · 2 years

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Abdhdh hi! I really want to go into marine biology, but it seems like there’s so little information out there about which specific programs or degrees take you in which direction (for ex. many programs I see are more environmentally focused and I’m more interested in sharks and cephalopods etc) do you have any tips on what path(s) to take and college programs/degrees to look into?

Hello! I got a similar question from @fish-themed-shitposter on my other ask, and I figure addressing you both would be the best so I don't miss anything. They're questions was: "It's my dream job, but I've heard the field is pretty competitive. Any advice before I go into highschool? What secondary education should I be aiming for?"

If you're passionate about learning and willing to make the commitment to work hard, that's the first thing you need. I'm not sure which countries you both are from, so I can only speak from my experiences in the USA. And, unfortunately, there is no "one-size-fits-all" approach to doing this. If you have a particular subject you're into, ie: sharks, use that as a jumping point and source of willpower to persevere. Honestly, allowing that interest to expand is my advice. For example:

My original dream was to go out and study sharks, but that is *so hard* to do. Everyone wants to focus on the big, charismatic megafauna. Oh you like sharks, and dolphins, and seals, and turtles? Get in line. XD Slowly, I expanded my interests into all fish and marine invertebrates, which eventually lead me into fisheries. Through fisheries work, yeah, I don't get to see and tag and study exclusively sharks - unfortunately, my biggest project right now focuses on the Striped Bass. But! There is always potential to see and deal with sharks, and that is definitely good enough for me. Try to generalize your dream so you have more options and paths that you would be comfortable and happy to do. Be flexible. Maybe instead of cephalopods, you're into their coral reef habitats? Maybe you're passionate about conserving them in associated fisheries? I'd recommend doing some reading in Google Scholar when you have time. Type in your passion animal, and look at what's being done for them in the field. Maybe you'll see something that sparks your interest even more.

If you're going into high school, and you're very sure about your goals to join the marine bio field, then maybe one day during this summer when you've got nothing going on, start searching on Google for colleges/universities that have great biology majors and marine science classes. Go nuts. Look at the University of Hawaii - who gives a damn? Just get a feeling for it. Make a dream list of the ones you would love to apply to, and look at what courses they require you take to complete the degree you'd pick. Then, make sure you take similar classes in high school. For instance!

Any sort of biology coursework is going to include Math, Chemistry, Physics, and Statistics - all things I hated - but they absolutely have been relevant in my career. As were "intro to bio" courses that covered the meat and potatoes of bio - cell bio, ecology, and physiology. Take those introductions in high school so that, when you get into college, you're not starting on the first floor. Use high school like pre-college. College is insanely expensive and I hope they eliminate student debt for you guys, but in the meantime, you don't want to have to pay for the same class twice. Those foundational classes that will feel like a slog and make you question your career decisions, will take up at least the first two years of your undergraduate career, alongside the "classes that make you a well-rounded person hopefully", like history, english, and foreign language courses that may be required (and you can absolutely just take them at your local community college for cheap - check out how transferring credits works). Again, look at what the school wants you to do to get that degree. See if any of those classes overlap with another major or minor (I did this with my Environmental Studies minor - it's worth doing if the only difference is like, one class that might be fun, but irrelevant. I took a class about Primate Conservation, but it ended up giving me a lot of conservation perspective anyway, so they're worth it). And yeah, look for courses that are just plain fun and up your alley - you'll never know how that fits into your life. I took a class about King Arthur, and I LOVED it. The professor was a riot! Maybe it made me a better writer? Being a good writer helped me land my current job, because grant writing is important. Who tf knows?

Then look at the courses that are actually relevant to you - the marine bio, the fish ecology, the invertebrate zoology, whatever - they offer and what they entail and how that fits into your goals. If you're into cephalopods, you probably want to go somewhere that offers courses that focus on invertebrates in whatever capacity. Also keep in mind that you should also pick a type of bio you are into, as well. I was always into ecology (how ecosystems work is fascinating!) and that leads into conservation, which, put together with fish, equals a job in Fisheries Management and research on commercially important species, fishing gear, and the industry. Go down the rabbit hole and see what you come up with.

Look at the faculty of the bio and/or marine bio departments. Each one is not going to just be a teacher, they are also the head Principle Investigator (PI) - the head scientist, if you will - of their own lab, usually. See what they're researching right now. Look at what they have researched already - chances are, they have a passion animal or topic that they have zeroed in on, and if that matches yours, you should bang on their door and ask when you can volunteer to help around the lab when you're accepted at their university/college. Perhaps see if there is undergraduate research credits you can take on and get your feet wet doing real science on an "easy" project the PI has for an undergrad. And remember, just because the PI's interests match yours, doesn't mean other PIs won't be better suited for you. Some of them are actually assholes, and you shouldn't stay in a lab run by an asshole because you're desperate. In undergrad, any experience in a lab is a good thing, even if you're the poor bucket-cleaning shmuck. Someone's gotta clean those buckets! It's important! Oh, and read their scientific journal articles and get a feel for exactly what they do - it's flattering for them and shows your commitment when you've done that homework.

Internship opportunities and organizations that focus on your passions are places you want to apply to and get real job experience, whether that's over the summer, or you work it in between classes. Maybe you're into marine mammals? Volunteer with the local marine mammal and sea turtle rescue/rehab place. Maybe you love talking nonstop about the ocean and everything - look into educational jobs at aquariums, zoos, and other non-profits that do education or kids camps outdoors.

You do not absolutely need to have an even higher degree (master's, phD) in order to be in this field. There are plenty of places looking for technicians with a bachelor's to do grunt field work and there's nothing shameful about being the one doing it if you love it. A master's may open doors for you that include a little more research, you may be able to write grants, or be put in charge of the grunts in the field. A PhD may land you work with a university or big lab doing important research. Who knows? You go as far as you can. Life will get in the way. Do not sacrifice happiness in other spaces in your life because this is your dream. If you keep at it, it should come in whatever capacity. I refused to leave New York, so my job search was extremely limited but...I wanted to be with my now-husband. Life happens!

And my best advice of all? Don't give up. One bad grade isn't going to ruin everything. Pick yourself up and keep trying. When I earned my Master's, I had to get a job at Walgreen's to make money while I waited for opportunities to open up. It was degrading af. But you don't give up. You get on the internet everyday and apply to jobs, programs, state tests - throw as much shit at the wall and something is bound to stick (you'll learn that in your stats classes! XD).

Don't give up. But accept when and if your interests change. It could happen. You could wake up late for Physics again and say "ya know what? Fuck it. Time to switch to the Business major" and that's totally valid. Don't stick with something just because young you thought you loved it. This is really hard to do.

Anyway, if you make strides, I'd love to hear all about it. I am proud of you for even going for it. Feel free to message me anytime. ^__^/

#marine biology #I am sorry this is so long #but I said I didn't wanna leave anything out!#make your dreams a reality #change your goals when they don't suit you anymore #study hard

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seekingthestars · 11 months

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tagged by @koalammas!! thank youuu 💞

buckle up ladies and gents time for some rambles okay go

1. Are you named after anyone?

nope lol my middle name was going to be Rose after my great-grandma on my mom's side, but my parents didn't want to offend either side of the family by using a name from the other side of the family so they ended up opting for completely random names for me and my brother hahaha

2. When was the last time you cried?

around april 21 (friend's funeral, her brother was speaking during it and i did not keep it together)

3. Do you have kids?

nope! only my cat, who i love and adore with my entire heart, she is my sweet lil angel muffin

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

kinda depends i guess? sometimes?

5. What is the first thing you notice about a person?

ohhh good question hmm i guess if i'm just seeing someone in passing, probably appearance? otherwise how they interact with and treat other people.

6. What’s your eye color?

brown, but leans a little hazel-ey some days.

7. Scary movie or happy ending?

agree that i like satisfying endings that are also hopefully happy! but between these two options, happy endings, i cannot do scary movies or tv shows or anything, i get freaked out and then can't sleep lol

8. Any special talents?

i genuinely don't know L O L i don't know what would constitute a special talent??? i can memorize song lyrics pretty quickly and then they sorta embed themselves into my brain forever, does that count??

9. Where were you born?

southern usa!

10. What are your hobbies?

video games, watching movies/dramas (though i do not always have the attention span for it lol), reading, crafting (i like physically making things with my hands since i just do design on my computer all day for work! i like trying lots of different things, recently been trying a little bit of hand embroidery. also painting little ceramic figures and stuff like that), cosplaying. i've been trying this year to build taking a walk into my daily routine, not sure if i count it as a hobby or not lol

11. Do you have any pets?

my sweet sweet rileycat!!!! i love cats!!!!

12. What sports do you/have you played?

am not a sports girlie LOL i did tap/ballet/jazz for six-ish years when i was younger! in high school i took theatre classes and was in the plays/musicals instead of sports.

13. How tall are you?

5'4" which is like 162.5cm??

14. Favourite subject in school?

oh i love english, i always loved english. and math! i actually really loved math up until i took calculus. my calculus teacher was horrible, he made you feel stupid for asking questions and he intentionally made the tests too long to finish in a class period and made them extra confusing, it left me in tears more than once. cried at school bc i failed a lot of those tests. anyway i got a 5 on my AP exam for calculus (highest score) so i understood the material, my teacher just sucked and made me hate math after i'd loved it my entire life so ✌️

also loved my theatre classes in high school ahhhh

15. Dream job?

i think something working with cats / big cats / red pandas would be really fun. not a vet necessarily, i don't think i could handle it lol, but like a cat rescue or animal sanctuary maybe??? idk honestly

but yeah mostly agree with the "something that won't drain me and actually leaves me with savings and a will to live" answer. i like my current job/workplace/coworkers a lot more than my last job, but i still don't know if i'd want to be in this field until i retire, that's so many more years and clients sometimes make me wanna bash my head into a wall lol

i have a hard time with the ~dream job~ question bc i've just never felt like i had a "calling" or any overwhelming grand idea with what i've wanted to do with my life, i'm just vibing my way through somehow

Bonus: any significance to your blog's name:

NOPE lol when i was making this blog uhhhh 12 years ago everything that i wanted at the time had been taken and this was the only thing i could think of that i liked that was available and it was just something random 😂 i've thought about changing it but idk it's been too long now LOL

#tag game #personal #i always end up rambling on these more than i should HAHA oopsie ;;#long post

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talenlee · 1 year

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Decemberween 2022: Homestuck Made This World

New Post has been published on PRESS.exe: Decemberween 2022: Homestuck Made This World

I did a Decemberween post a few years back on a podcast called Game Studies Study Buddies which is a great podcast about reading academic texts from the field of Games Studies, a field distinct from Game Theory, which is math, and Gameology, which doesn’t exist. It’s a good podcast, it features two twitter personalities and general gaming space wordboys, Cameron Kunzelman and Michael Lutz, one of whom is a country boy who loves dubstep.

If the point of Decemberween is to point you to free media that you can enjoy during a time where you may be seeing other media going into big long slow downtimes, then it seems to me that this is a great time to point you at a podcast that’s something like eighty hours of long-form reading of a webcomic that is also thousands and thousands of panels long. It helps that it’s honestly a really good podcast on that topic.

I don’t want to talk too much about my opinions of Homestuck here because they’re largely negative and every time I approach something I think I’ll hate because I’ve been asked to give it a second chance it tends to go bad (not always). But what I want to talk about is the way this podcast serves to onramp the experience of Homestuck in two major ways.

First and foremost, it’s actually disciplined enough to release on a meaningful schedule while covering a meaningful quantity of the comic. It isn’t hitting dreadful schedule slippage or existence failure, goodness willing. It’s just that this is going to get through the comic in a meaningful pace and is going to include the things that are in the comic without needing to spend two hours dwelling on one small set of panels. There’s a focus to it.

Secondly, there’s no need to mystify or exalt the text while they’re reading it so you don’t get a introduction that starts with something like Homestuck is an Experience but instead a much more robust, much more clear examination of what the text is, the form it takes, the source from which it comes, and that author’s other, related works. It’s a sort of autoethnography where these two people are sharing an experience and engaging with their reactions to that experience academically.

Homestuck is a thing that happened, and we can look at that thing, and it is through these two gents talking about it in a way that was willing to go ‘oh hey, this bit is boring’ and ‘this bit is bad’ while still bringing to bear tools of textual analysis (ie, looking at what’s in the text rather than necessarily the sort of paidic experience most people seem to get about Homestuck) it makes the whole task seem a lot less arduous. I know every time I’ve considered digging through Homestuck I’ve looked at the screen of a dork in his room and gone: There are ten years of this and most of it is bad, why bother?

But Homestuck Made This World looks at it in a historical context, and don’t just tell me what they think or feel about it, they show a meaningful sourced representation of what the culture at large thought of it. It’s really inspiring as a way to handle a big, challenging text.

Who knows, maybe I’ll give an examination of Homestuck a shot.

For money.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Decemberween2022

#Decemberween 2022

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lynesn-blog · 2 years

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LEARNING HOW TO LEARN

Introduction

The topic I chose today was “Learning How to Learn”: Techniques to Help you Learn with Dr Barbara Oakley (Bridging the Gaps, 2022). I chose this particular topic for more than a reason, firstly, because we discussed it a bit in class after some people wrote about it so, it intrugued me and I thought maybe I should listesn to Dr Barbara. Secondly, if you are a learner like I am, surely this is one of those topics that would catch your attention. Every learner would be looking for ways to learn better if not easily. This topic would perphaps provide a light to even performng better in your classes.

This interesting classic from the portal for curious minds was a podcast between Dr Waseem Akhtar and Dr Barbara Oakley (Bridging the Gaps, 2022). Dr Waseem is the head of the Computing faculty in Griffith College Dublin where he is based. He hold an MBA in Higher EducationManagement from the institute of Education at University College London and a PhD in Computer Science from University College Dublin. The academic has a reputation for his engaging lectures and discussions where he explores multidisciplinary ideas, cutting edge research on diverse research topics with researchers and thought leaders from around the world (Bridging the Gaps, 2022).

Dr Barbara Oakley is a writer,Educator and professor of Engineering at Oakland University in Rochester,Michigan.With two Bachelors degrees, a masters and PhD in systems Engineering, the author has also taught one of Cousera’s most popular courses online “Learning How to Learn”. Dr Barbara has written books like Learning How to Learn, Uncommon Sense Teaching, Mindshift and more that highlight her topics of interest in neuroscience and social behavior (Oakley, 2022).

My favourite question from Dr Waseem in these podcasts is always the first one, “tell us about yourself”. It always seems like the guest is caught off guard or they have so much about them to tell that it can’t be answered in a single line. This I am yet to believe that because they have so much work on their names, the questions seems too small to fit such an answer. The most interesting part about Dr Barbara is that even after her work in the army and with a degree of Arts, she felt like something was missing at 26 years. A bit of her must have felt like a failure and she wanted to prove it wrong, from hating Math and Science to going head on with the same subjects and becomimg an Engineer in the field is not light (Bridging the Gaps, 2022). This was a trick worth sharing and we are all now thankful for the books she has written about this subject to help us all.

Dr Barbara explains with good examples when asked how learning occurs in the brain, just like driving a car and small tasks like those become natural to us after consistently and persistently doing them.I have heard people say “there is no talent good enough to beat persistence”. She advises on how important it is take short breaks for effective learning, the Pomodoro technique that I personally use was recommended (Bridging the Gaps, 2022).

Learning in chunks was another concept she advisein learning how to learn. Dr Barbara believes learning repetively and consistently can create neuro chunksfor example, reading something and stepping away from the material while trying to memorise or meditate on what you have just learned can help build your memory muscle (Bridging the Gaps, 2022).

Dr Barbara makes another not obvious point but a common one too about learning how to learn whe she says discussing with others as a form of learning is another good way to practise learning how to learn, because its so easy to read something and you think you know it until you don’t after talking to others.This has happened to me many times when I think I know but actually I don’t. She says we need to take learning as a social activity not just an individual one.

Conclusion

Many people learn differently, and as a past teacher in kindergarten I know this so well after seeing children learn in different forms. Dr Barbara advises that the Pomodoro technique is her most trusted style that can also be used to shut out distractions like social media (Uzu, 2022). Dr Barbara is looking forward to new future reseach on the brain and neuro science especially, on how people learn, she also hopes that in future, maybe we can impart brains into people and I think this is where scientists try to play God. Actually by just asking this question I wonder what Dr Waseem thinks?

SOURCES

Bridging the Gaps.(2022). Retrieved from: https://www.bridgingthegaps.ie/tag/learning/

Barbara, O. (2022). Barbara Oakley, Phd. Retrieved from: https://barbaraoakley.com/about-me/

Uzu, Y. (2022). Pomofocus. Retrieved from: https://pomofocus.io/

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gignikinszz · 2 years

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aaa snow sounds so nice !! warm winters make me feel uneasy as well, it just feels like something’s wrong. no idea what but the vibes are off

oH i also wanted to ask which kpop groups you stan ! i showed a screenshot of vos being a ring ding dong fan (as he should be) to my kpop friends and even though they don’t like star wars they’re now reading that fic lol

i’ve been busy with school the past few days and i’ve decided i’m just gonna give up on life. especially with maths like dude it’s just not funny anymore i want to study history for gods sake

what exactly is your study about ? :D

- 🦁

ahh it is! i do love snow unless i'm driving in it or shoveling it or it's brown and gross on the side of the road 😌😌 also YEAH EXACTLY like.... why am i not freezing...... something's Wrong........

first of all TY for the free promo <33 spreading my kpop stan quinlan vos agenda to the world, a blessing truly

also ahhhh this question is exciting to me my kpop playlist is like 21 hours long now LMFAO #help. anyways i listen to a variety of groups but some of my faves are twice, txt, hot issue, and purple kiss, and recently i've been listening to more æspa, f(x), and enhypen but i haven't gotten thru a whole lot of their discographies yet. i ALSO really like the new nct title track bc it reminds me of the baseball scene in twilight lmfaooo

oh no.... i feel u but oh no........ math especially can be rough, i hope it gets better 😔✊ and good luck with history!! if that's what u feel passionate about i hope u get a good opportunity to go for it :))

so funny story! i'm studying engineering right now which is actually just a bunch of math but it's like worse so you can build buildings/roads/etc, but i'm thinking of switching to be just a plain old math major because that's my favorite part of everything i do in college. so uh we are not the same 💀💀 but i'm having a good time!

#me reading this ask seeing that you hate math & want to go into a field i hate: 👁👄👁#sorry thats just so funny to me FJSKNFDKNF #also seriously have u heard it maybe i think this bc its literally about baseball but it just makes me think of that scene 💀💀💀💀#LETS PLAY BALL 🧢 LETS PLAY BALL ⚾️ YUH YOURE MY UNIVERSE 😩💖⚾️⚾️⚾️#lmaooo i do like kpop music but i don't think i take it seriously enough/get into groups enough to consider myself like a stan yk #i'm def more of a casual listener than anything but i do feel at peace #ask #lion anon #ty ty this was v entertaining to answer #also THANKS AGAIN FOR TELLING UR FRIENDS ABOUT MY FIC MY HEART IS CURRENTLY EXPLODING ❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

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miekasa · 3 years

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speaking of college boys, what do the college au aot babies study??

Okay, okay, I think I’ve talked about this in an ask before but I can’t find it 😭😭 but it’s okay, I love college aus, so I’ll talk about it again! Plus, now I’ve got more thoughts for more characters, so here we go

Levi — neuroscience and psychology of human behavior

He started out on track to do a bachelor of arts in psychology, but when they touched on the anatomy and biological parts of it during his first year lecture, he switched to a bachelor of science.

The focus is still psychology, but through a more clinical lens. Essentially, he gets the best of both worlds this way. He’s intuitive and analytical, so clinical and mental diagnosis is easy to dissect for him. He’s also canonically good at math, so the calculus and stats parts aren’t too bad, either.

This major also leaves him with a few options post-grad, which is a nice bonus for him. He’s likely going to medical school, but that’s not the only route open to him: law school, therapy, lab work, medicine and pharmacy, even teaching are all viable options without going to grad school.

Do not talk to him about Freud unless you wanna get punted off a building.

Be careful with him, because with a single glance he’s already got scarily accurate predictions about your parental and emotional attachment styles, your behavior in social settings, and the onset (or seemingly lack thereof) of your frontal lobe development.

He thinks he’s so smart making comments like, “I see those synaptic connections aren’t working so well for you today,” like mf come here let me lobotomize you and see how well your synaptic connects are working after that🙄

Eren — general health sciences

He’s interested in science and the discovery aspects of it, but picking a specific field of focus right now feels too final. He likes it this way, because his schedule and requirements are less restrictive, and he has more room to find out what really interests him.

He does best when he’s doing something he loves, so picking a major with a bunch of reqs that he couldn’t care less about would have sucked big time for him. It also would have affected his grades. There are still some classes he has to take that he’s not fond of (see: chemistry), but that’s to be expected. Science in general is cool to him and he hopes to make his own discovery some day, even if it’s microscopic.

He also plays a lot of sports, keeping his schedule flexible is important. The sports end up helping him excel academically, which is a nice bonus. Honestly, Eren uses his time at university to learn more about himself than anything, so having control and freedom to do what he likes the majority of the time was important to him.

He uses his elective credits to take philosophy or history courses of his interest, or maybe even a course that you’re in just to spend time with you. He also uses you as a live model for his homework bye, congrats on being patient number one to him.

Armin — astronomy and physics

He’s still interested in marine biology, but unless he attended a school near a coast, or with a specialized integrated program for that, it’s unlikely he’d major in it during undergrad.

Space and ocean exploration aren’t all that different. Both are vast, largely unexplored domains that reel-in Armin’s interest for discovery. So, while studying astronomy, he still gets to study evolution and make his own predictions about what could be out there because there’s so much to know.

Physics comes with the territory of learning about planetary science, and he’s mathematically inclined, so it works out for him. Learning about the different physical properties of other planets and space masses is honestly pretty sick to him. Because math isn’t a struggle, he actually considered aeronautical engineering, but he didn’t want to be a part of the college to military pipeline; that is, he didn’t want any potential design of his to be weaponized.

He still gets to study animal biology through his elective courses, and might even find a few focused on marine animals to satiate him. Plant and cell biology are also of interest to him, and are just further applications of his primary study anyway, so he’s got plenty of room to work with.

This boy is interning at NASA and still, with his whole chest out is like, “I don’t need to discover a new planet, you’re my whole world.” Armin, go check on the Mars rover or something please.

Mikasa — anthropology + minor in japanese language studies

Anthropology is virtually interdisciplinary in nature, and Mikasa is a pretty well rounded student, so she’s able to excel in a program like this. She gets to study history, science, cultural studies, and even a bit of art all at once.

She’s still debating between going to law school vs med school, so anthro this is a good in-betweener. She gets a taste of science through her anatomy and kin courses; and lots of practice with reading and dissecting texts through the historical and cultural lectures. So, when the time comes to decide, she’ll have some experience with both.

Don’t know whether it’s confirmed that she’s (part) Japanese or not, but either way I headcanon that she speaks/spoke some second language at home. She wanted to delve more into it, and courses were offered at the university so why not?

Cultural studies courses end up being her favorite. She likes learning about the history of people and their cultures, and it encourages her to learn more about her own family history and culture. It also propels her to apply for a study abroad opportunity, so she spends at least one semester doing an exchange program and absolutely loves it.

She would also encourage you to apply and go, too. You guys might not be in the same program, but if there’s an applicable program in the same country she’s going to, then she’d definitely want you to apply. Spending the semester away with you would be a dream come true.

Hange — bioengineering + minor in political philosophy and law

It’s almost self-sabotage to be in an engineering program and have a minor; the coursework for engineering alone is backbreaking, and bioengineering has the added weight of human intricacies, but of course Hange makes it possible.

They’re nothing short of a genius, so of course they have time to work a completely unrelated minor into their schedule. It doesn’t surprise anyone that they go on to complete an MD-PhD after undergrad. Insane.

Bioengineering is essentially the synthesis of chemical engineering and health sciences; Hange spends their time exploring biological sciences and applies the engineering aspects of their coursework to their understanding of (and interest in creating) medicine. Truly a one of a kind mind.

They also have an interest in philosophy and justice, so when they found out they only needed a measly nine or ten courses to minor in, they went for it, of course. In honesty, they don’t find the studies all that opposing: both law making and medicine making both have some kind of philosophy or method to them in their eyes.

Hange has... little to no free time pls. They don’t mind it, because they love their coursework, but this means you are essentially ducking into their labs or scrambling to find them in-between their classes during your time in undergrad. They appreciate every second spent with you tho, and will gladly rope you into long discussions about their work.

Jean — biochemistry + minor in art sustainability

He was undeclared his first year, and took a little bit of everything: art, science, history, anthropology, english. Basically, anything that fit into his schedule. It was hard for him to pick one thing—he liked the science and lab applications of STEM courses, but not the math; and the obvious painting and creativity of art, but hated the pretentious air about art history.

What he wants to do is make a difference, which is how he ends up knowing that he wants to go to med school after, so he picks a science-heavy major, but uses his elective spaces to take art courses. When he mixes the two, he ends up on sustainability—and the complexities about it that are applicable to both science and art are what really reels him in.

Interdisciplinary studies end up being his forte. He can approach sustainability from a science perspective which impacts his art style and materials; and tuning into his creative side allows him to think about science not just from a purely clinical perspective, but from a human one, too—patients are people after all.

He believes that everything is connected somehow, even things as seemingly opposite as art and biochemistry. And he works towards finding the unique intersection where everything overlaps. His studies are pretty cool, and he’s very passionate about them, so ask him about it 😌

The art he makes is pretty sick, too, and often commentary about science; he’s proving they’re not so opposite. You also heavily influence his studies in both areas: caring about you so much inspires him to take the healthcare focus seriously, and your very nature is inspiration to his art.

Sasha — nursing

She’s friendly and good at working with people, so nursing was an easy choice for her. She accredits most of her motivation to being around her younger family members, and learns that she finds a simple kind of joy in helping to take care of others.

She struggles a bit her first year when it’s mostly all grades and standardized testing, but when she starts getting clinical experience and working in the hospital on campus, things round out for her.

Patient care is her strongest point. A lot of people often forget that knowing everything isn’t everything; if you don’t know how to calm or even just talk to your patient, you’re not that great of a healthcare professional.

Pretty certain that she wants to work with kids in the future, but she’s open to public health and even being a travel nurse if she finds opportunity there!

Of course, she’s pretty doting when it comes to you and all her friends. She might want to go into pediatrics, but the basics of nursing and health care extend to everyone, so you’re guaranteed to be well taken care of with Sasha around. You might even have to switch roles and take care of her sometimes, because her coursework can get pretty out of hand.

Connie — computer engineering with a focus on game design

He might not look it, but Connie has a brain under that shaved head of his. Computer engineering is cool to him because he basically learns about how simple things he uses every day (ie: phone, computer, microwave) works.

Systems and coding are actually the easy part for him, especially when they get into the application of it and aren’t just stuck looking at examples. That’s how he gets into game design.

The part about math and electricity and magnetic fields… well let’s just say he needed to make friends with someone who likes math and hardware his first year to get through it. But the struggle was worth it, because by his junior year he’s found a professor willing to mentor/supervise him as he works on his game and other projects, so life is good.

His school work is definitely hard, which is why the lives by the mantra of “work hard, party harder.” It’s only fair.

He makes you a little avatar so you can test out his games for him <33 best boyfriend things <33 He’d also… build a game about your relationship. Every level is a different date you guys went on, and he definitely includes something cheesy, like “There are unlimited lives because I love you forever babe <3”

Porco — kinesiology + maybe mechanical engineering

He’s pretty into athletics and working out, but didn’t wanna go down the sports psychology route; he wanted something that left him with a few more options, so he ended up in kinesiology.

He was surprisingly pretty good at biology in high school, so something stem-oriented works out in his favor, and it turns out he’s pretty damn good at anatomy, too. He’ll probably end up in physical therapy after graduation.

He’s also got a knack for cars, which is where the engineering comes in, but he doesn’t care so much for the math part of it (he doesn’t care for it at all actually, fuck that); he just wants the hands on experience of building/fixing things and working with his hands. So, if he can get a minor in it and not struggle through 4 years of math, then he’d do that. If not, he’d take a few workshop-like classes.

Because he wants to go into physical therapy, you are essentially his practice patient. Your back hurts? Not a problem, he’s basically a professional masseuse. Muscle aches? He’s got a remedy and understanding of why it’s happening. Don’t let him catch you hunting over your desk grinding away at your homework, because he will poke your neck and correct your posture (he’ll also massage your shoulders, but after the scolding).

Pieck — classics + minor in philosophy

Ancient studies interest her, but more than that, the language of ancient Greek and Roman culture fascinates her, so classics is the way to go.

Because her focus within Classics ends up being Greek and Latin language studies, she is essentially learning both languages at the same time. She gets farther with Latin that she does with Greek. For whatever reason, the former comes almost naturally to her, so her written and translated work is more complex in Latin.

However, she finds cultural studies relation to Greece more interesting than that of Rome, so it’s a give and take with both; better at languages for Roman studies, better at culture and history for Greek studies.

Her minor is a natural evolution from her primary coursework. Ancient Romans and Greeks set the foundation for a lot of modern day philosophy, so it comes up in her major classes, but she wanted to delve further into the philosophy, and not just look at it historically, so she takes more courses to fulfill the minor.

Can be found laying on a blanket in the quad on a hot day, with her books spread out all around her, highlighter in hand as she works through her reading. You’re always invited to sit with her, and more often than not, it ends up with Pieck’s head in your lap, a book in her hands, and your own schoolwork in yours as you both read in each other’s company.

Bertholdt — computer science and coding

He’s level headed, good at planning, and above all, patient, so he’s cut out for this. He doesn’t consider himself to be particularly creative, which is why he doesn’t pick a speciality with lots of design; but he’s good at streamlining and ideas to life.

The patience really comes in when his code doesn’t run. It’s frustrating to scroll for two hours just to find out that the issue is a missing semi-colon in line 273 that he overlooked, but Berty will sit there until he finds it.

He’s also good at fixing issues. That’s not limited to issues in the code itself; it can mean finding shorter ways to produce the same function or loop, or integrating new aspects into existing code.

Also, he’d just be so cute, coding away on his computer. Just imagine: Berty working on his homework in the library, he’s got his signature crewneck + collared shirt look going for him, his blue-light glasses, a cup of coffee nearly as tall as him sitting at the corner of his desk. Adorable.

He’d make little codes/programs for you, too, even if it’s silly. A simple code that helps you decide what to eat for dinner or where to go on a date, one that shuffles different reminders for you, hell he’ll even forgo the torture of design engineering just to build you a little robot that says “I love you” to you.

Reiner — english + minor in justice & political philosophy

Everyone expects Reiner, star quarterback of the university’s rugby team, to be a business student or communications student; but no, he’s an English major, and he loves it.

Just imagine a guy as huge as Reiner absolutely manhandling someone on the field, just to show up in his lectures with a tiny paperback of The Great Gatsby tucked between his fingers with his reading glasses on. It’s so precious.

He’s always running a bit late to class—either coming from the gym, or practice, or oversleeping from exhaustion—but he’s so sweet to his professors and genuinely interested in the literature that they don’t give him a hard time about it. They can tell that balancing school and sports is difficult, and they just appreciate that he takes his studies seriously.

Yeah he’s in a book club and he dog-ears his books. What about it. They’re doing poetry this month and Reiner actually likes Edgar Allen Poe. Who said jocks can’t be sentimental.

He also reads a lot outside of his classes, and has a soft spot for coming of age stories. He usually empathizes with the main character somehow. His ideal weekend plans after a week of grueling games and essays is taking a long, relaxing shower at your place, while you both share a bottle of wine, and maybe even get you to read a chapter or two of his current book out loud to him.

Annie — clinical psychology/neuroscience

Almost scarily analytical and methodic, so this major was calling her name. Localizing brain legions is… insanely intuitive to her it’s incredible. She’ll be an insanely impressive doctor someday, even if she doesn’t end up working with patients directly.

She doesn’t care too much for the more philosophical/reading heavy parts of psychology. Even experiments and research closer to the social end of the spectrum aren’t all that interesting to her; but the brain science behind it it.

Nobody should be good at cellular biology. Nobody should be able to ace cell bio and neuro and calc and work towards their thesis proposal in the same semester, but Annie proves it’s possible.

Ends up working in one of her professor’s labs by her junior year. She was offered three TA positions working with first year students, but she swiftly turned them down. Teaching isn’t her thing.

She doesn’t bring up her studies to you unprompted, but if you ask her about them she’ll explain it to you. Her notes are color coded and it’s super neat, and very cute; coloring them is somewhat relaxing for her. She usually saves the coloring part for when you guys study together; there’s extra comfort in doing it with you around.

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tootiredmotel · 3 years

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For @one-more-offbeat-anthem 's 1k follower celebration. The prompt was "sickfics" and I've never written a sickfic in my life so, naturally, I adapted a scene from one of my comfort movies (Fever Pitch, 2005). HUGE congrats on your milestone love!!!

read on ao3 or below (1.5k words)

Castiel should've known better than to listen to his brother regarding food. They have wildly different palates, and why he agreed to accompany Gabriel to lunch at some newly-opened new-age restaurant with barely any reviews, he'll never know. He wasn't thinking.

He could think even less that night, hunched over the toilet with food poisoning while his date knocked on his apartment door.

As soon as he could, Castiel scrambled to his feet and wobbled over to open it, his over-excitable golden retriever on his heels. Dean stood there in a nice leather jacket, all dapper and first-date-ready with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and it broke Castiel's heart to have to tell him:

"I'm sick."

He was sure it was evident in his eyes, death breath, hair sticking out in all directions from holding his head above the toilet, but he said it anyway.

"I'm really sick, I'm sorry. Come back tomorrow."

Castiel went to close the door, but Dean took a cautious step, bouquet forgotten at his side. "Sick how? You in pain? Do you need anything?"

"I just-" Castiel swallowed forcefully. "I ate at this new restaurant and-"

Just thinking about it made him run to the bathroom again, and he almost didn't make it on time. He barely registered Dean, still at the doorway, say something about Castiel (Cas, he called him) not needing to fake it if he didn't want to go out with him. A few seconds later, the door closed, and Castiel (still puking) thought that was that. He blew it with the handsome schoolteacher, all thanks to his brother's awful culinary taste.

His dog's wasn't so far behind. "Honey, please don't eat that," he reprimanded her, failing to shoo her out of the bathroom.

When he felt he was done, for the time being at least, he tried to stand. He was weak, and for a second he thought he might split his head open on the toilet seat, but then Dean was there, hands on his waist, helping him up. "I got you," said Dean, over and over again, and Castiel believed him.

Dean helped him to his bed where he tried to sit him down, but Castiel must've been weaker than he thought. He flopped backward, and then Dean cautiously lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath.

"Thank you."

"Got some more comfortable clothes? Something to sleep in?"

It's then Cas remembered he was already dressed for the date, slacks and a white button-up (probably grossly stained, he hated to think), and pointed Dean to a drawer.

A second later Dean was gently hoisting him back to his feet, strong hands at his sides, saying "Here, I'll help you change. Promise I won't look. Too much, I won't look too much."

And that actually made Castiel chuckle.

Dean unbuckled and took off his slacks first, replacing them with sweatpants. It was a slow, quiet process, and Dean only spoke up after he'd taken off Castiel's tie and shirt. "Alright, I gotta be honest, I'm looking. Sorry, Cas."

Cas couldn't help another chuckle. Dean was incredibly respectful through it all, careful not to touch any skin unless he had to, which was mostly to keep Cas from falling over. He slipped a t-shirt onto him and laid Cas back down on the bed, this time with his head where it was supposed to be. That's when things started to blur, when his head hit the pillow.

"I don't think there's anything left in there, but just in case..."

Cas, through hazy vision, noticed Dean putting his empty hamper next to the bed. He thanked him, repeatedly. Cas isn't sure how many times he said it, over and over again, thank you.

"Hey, no, you just get some rest," was the last thing Cas heard Dean say before he was out like a light.

Cas suspects he briefly regained consciousness three times during that night.

The first time, he's sure of. He felt a hand on his shoulder, slowly coaxing him awake. "Here," Dean said softly, placing a bottle of Gatorade with a straw in it on the nightstand. "Drink this if you can, alright? Get your strength back." Cas nodded and fell back asleep.

The second time was more questionable, and he only knows it was real because he saw the results of it in the morning. He slowly awoke on his own and saw Dean in his bathroom across from his bedroom door, wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing away at the toilet with a sponge. Cas tried to stop him, tell him no, please, you don't have to do that, really, but couldn't help sleep drag him back down before he could get the words out.

The third time is the most unbelievable. Borderline fantastical. If it was real, he might just have to marry this guy.

Cas thinks he saw Dean brushing Honey's teeth.

Out of everything that happened the night before, that is all he can think about as he steps out of the shower in the morning. He plans to call Dean, send a fruit basket to his school, invite him on the best date of his life to repay him for all he did, and ask him. It's going to sound ridiculous, did you brush my dog's teeth or did I hallucinate that, and Dean will probably turn down his invite. If not for the hell he went through that night, then for Cas being insane.

And then Cas finds Dean asleep on his couch, Honey snuggled into his side. And yeah, he's probably going to marry this guy. This schoolteacher who happened to pick him and his office as a field trip destination for his math kids. This adorable guy that came back later that same day, thanked him for getting through to the kids (which Cas didn't think he had, but he digresses), and then asked him out. This unbelievably sweet guy that Cas initially rejected, god knows why, but then called at his school and left a message for, Saturday at seven, here's my address, because he couldn't get him off his mind. This caring, thoughtful, heaven-sent guy who showed up with flowers, now in a vase on his dining table, found Cas with food poisoning and proceeded to take care of him, his dog, and his apartment the rest of the night.

Before Cas can think about marrying him again (which he was going to, the hopeless romantic), Honey startles and jumps off the couch, waking Dean. Cas doesn't move, just watches as Dean sits up, notices him, then sits up straighter.

"Hey! Hey, how you feeling?" Dean asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. He put products in his hair for the date, Cas notices, because it's now stiffly and adorably messed up.

"Much better. I won't be entering any pie-eating contests any time soon, though."

"Too bad. That was my next date idea."

Cas smiles, the words next date making his heart flutter in his ribcage. His question pops back into his mind.

"Did you, um..." Don't ask about the dog, he'll think you're crazy. He decides to go with "Did you clean my bathroom last night?" even though he knows the answer.

"Me? No."

Well. Cas thought he knew the answer. Probably dreamed it too. But then who-

"The vomit elves came in," Dean continues. "Real cute. Little hats, miniature vomit bags, adorable. Efficient too."

Cas is stuck somewhere between smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, and shaking his head while rolling his eyes. "Did the elves brush Honey's teeth too?"

"Oh no, that one was me."

And that has Cas laughing in earnest. At the sound of her name, Honey came bouncing back, settling next to Dean on the couch.

"Not letting the little bastards take credit for that one. This sweetheart loves me, and I earned that myself," Dean says, scratching Honey between her ears, enraptured.

"Dean, thank you." At that, Dean looks up. "Thank you. You could've just left, but you chose to stay. And you went above and beyond. Thank you."

Dean looks away and stands, trying to play it off with a wave of his hand. "Nah, it was nothing."

"It was everything," Cas says stepping forward, placing a beckoning hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean finally looks at him with a barely-there smile and a gaze that wants to escape, but he fights for it to stay on Castiel's face. Cas is glad he does, because he needs Dean to see, understand, how grateful he is.

"I uh... I got you these." Dean reaches for a paper bag on the coffee table, and that's when Cas takes his hand off his shoulder. "Some movies."

"Such as?"

"Mostly anime porn," Dean says, and Cas is doing it again, the chuckling/eye roll/head shake combo. "And some stuff I like to watch when I'm not doing great."

"Well, for me that would be documentaries."

"Wait." Dean blinks. "What? What did you say?"

"Documentaries. Preferably environmental, or perhaps historical in nature."

"No way, you're not gonna believe this," Dean says, a bit too much surprise on his face. "This is insane dude, check this out..."

He reaches into the bag, and Cas half believes he's about to pull out a copy of Disney's Earth. He's delighted to be wrong.

"Roadhouse."

Cas laughs again, and the beaming smile on Dean's face is what convinces him. He is definitely going to marry this guy.

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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WANDA X READER - 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU - Final

Gif is not mine.

Summary: Pietro Maximoff is handsome and popular, but he can’t date before his twin sister. The problem is that no one can get close to his sister, Wanda Maximoff. To resolve the situation, a girl interested in Pietro bribes a colleague with a mysterious past to go out with Wanda and, who knows, try to win her over. Or The one directly inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You.

Words: 11,620K (Complete) /// Read on AO3 too || Part I

Warnings: PG, fluff, language.

She doesn't answer your messages during the weekend. So you don't press her. But then you are on the field, in physical education period, and she is practicing.

You sit on the bleachers, trying to focus on the math homework you needed to finish, when Monica joins you on the bench.

- Hey, girl. - She says hello as she sits down. And noticing your gaze shifting from the notebook to Wanda, she comments. - What happened between you two?

You sighed angrily.

- I did the right thing. - You comment with irony, but seeing Monica's frown in confusion, you add. - She wanted to kiss me after the party. I refused because she was drunk.

- But the plan was working! - said Monica.

- So what, you called the whole thing off.

Monica giggled, and raised her eyebrows slightly.

- Yeah, I know, but it was...it was before what happened. - She said, and you looked at her with confusion. - Pietro kissed me.

You blink and then laugh, shaking your head. And then Bruce comes to join you two.

- I just talked to Wanda. - He says. - Look, she said she hates you with the intensity of a thousand suns.

You let out a dry laugh, running your fingers through your hair.

- Thank you Bruce, that's very comforting to hear. - You tell him wryly, and he nods uncomfortably.

- Maybe she needs a day to calm down. - Monica says, and the three of you look toward the field, where Wanda was training veritably.

- Maybe two days. - You comment as you watch her knock a girl down.

//-//

You managed to fix most of your motorcycle. And then you found out that your mother punctured the tires, and you stormed angrily into her room.

- Have you completely lost your mind? - You shouted, and she just took off her glasses and crossed her legs while looking at you. - You slashed the tires on my motorcycle?

- I told you that you were grounded.

- That's ridiculous! - you say. - You don't have the slightest respect for my things.

- Don't talk to me that way. - She warned, and you let out a wry laugh.

- Be damn sure that when my bike is up and running, I'm out of here!

You shout before leaving the room, slamming the door.

You were coming out of geography class when Pepper Potts came to talk to you again.

She pulled you into a far corner behind the closet, and held out a hundred dollars to you.

- Take her to prom. - She said. - It's all here, limousine, clothes.

She pushed the money in your hands, but you pushed it back.

- I'm done with this game, Potts. - You retorted, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

You started to turn to leave, but Potts stepped in front of you.

- Hey, hey, wait. - She asked, and then pulled three more bills from her purse. - Three hundred dollars, okay? Come on, it's just a date.

You swallowed dryly as you accepted, trying to push to the back of your mind how wrong it was. And Potts smiled mischievously, then left.

//-//

You went back to the same record store in front of the laundry room where you found Wanda that other day. And you tried not to be so nervous.

Looking around, you found her walking around the shelves, and she was admiring a guitar. You put your hands in your pockets as you watched her put on the headphones and try the instrument, sitting down on one of the stools in the store.

You moved closer, and could see her reflection in the mirror a few feet away, but Wanda didn't see you, as her eyes were closed while her fingers danced on the guitar strings.

You smiled at the image, she looked so peaceful and comfortable. You couldn't disturb her. So you just left the store.

//-//

You saw Wanda again the next day. You didn't give up talking to her, and ended up going to the only bookstore in town that you knew sold the poetry that Wanda liked to read according to the list Monica had given you.

And while you were browsing the shelves, you found her looking distractedly at a stack of books. You walked over to her, following her across the opposite shelf, and when the shelf was over, you ended up in front of each other.

- Excuse me, miss. I'm looking for an Avengers comic book, have you seen any around? - You joked, but Wanda didn't smile, looking annoyed.

- What are you doing here?

- I hear you like poetry. - You answer and she sighs impatiently.

- You're so...

- Charming? - You interrupt with a smile, Wanda rolls her eyes as she walks away from you. - wholesome?

- Inopportune. - She says irritated. You bite your lip and walk toward her.

- You're not as mean as you think. - You tell her.

- And you're not as bad-ass as you think you are.

- Oh, someone still has her panties in a twist.

- Don’t for one minute think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties.

You let out a smug chuckle.

- And where did I provoke?

- You provoked my vomit, nothing more. - She retorts, then grabs a comic book from the stack of books in front of her and slaps it against your chest, walking away.

You stare at the Avengers comic book in your hand for a few minutes before handing it back, completely impressed by the dialogue.

//-//

At break time, the day after your argument with Wanda, Monica and Bruce approach you in the snack line.

- She's still mad at me, people. - You tell them as you put some noodles on your tray.

- Look, you embarrassed her, you need to apologize. - Monica said and you frowned.

- I'm not going to apologize for not taking advantage of her drunken state! - You retort. - It's not my fault she's stubborn, and would rather be angry than admit she's wrong.

You finish your lunch and get out of line, Bruce and Monica follow you to the table. They don't sit with you, but watch you sit next to Carol at one of the circular tables.

- Come on, Y/N, try to think of something to please her. - Bruce says, and you roll your eyes.

- You can sing your apologies. - Mocks Carol from beside you, making you laugh. But then Bruce and Monica have serious expressions and you frown.

- Not a chance! - You warn them, but they are already letting out excited exclamations.

Carol starts laughing next to you.

- I have the perfect idea! - Monica says. - You can sing a romantic song in front of the whole school! Any girl would love it.

- I'd kill anyone who did that to me. - Carol mumbles humorously, and you laugh.

- Can I at least finish my lunch in peace? - you say, and Monica and Bruce nod in agreement. You point to the free chairs at your table, and they are very happy to sit with you.

//-//

And then you ended up outside the school again. After infiltrating the upper booth of the soccer field and getting a microphone and access to the outside speakers. You also had to pay the band guy, but you figured it was only worth it.

- You're just too good to be true. - You sang into the microphone as you walked out of the booth toward the stands. Your voice echoing across the field - Can't take my eyes of you. - You continued as you walked. All the students were looking around trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. - You'd be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived. And I thank God I'm alive - You sing and finally become visible to the people in the field. - You're just too good to be true. - You look for Wanda in the crowd in the distance, and sing the last part while looking and pointing at her. - Can't take my eyes of you.

And then the band starts playing, and you follow the beats, continuing to sing the song, as the crowd claps their hands and enjoys your performance.

You keep looking at Wanda throughout the song, and even as the security guards pull you off the field, you see that she is blushing, and smiling.

//-//

You end up in detention after hearing from Principal Harkness that she was impressed that you did romantic acts, and you laughed before leaving the office.

And then Professor Thanos was walking around the detention room, and stopped at the desk next to yours.

- You look nervous. - He said to the student who was sitting down.

- A little bit sir.

- You are sweating like a pig. - said Thanos.

- Yes sir. - agreed the frightened boy.

- Your eyes are red. - He said.

The boy nodded nervously, looking down at the table.

- You have pot, don't you? - said Thanos angrily, and the boy turned pale. - Hand it over right now.

After confiscating the boy's weed, Thanos walked back around, and then the door opened. You raised your head when you heard Wanda's voice.

- Professor Thanos, may I speak with you please? - she asked, entering the room and walking towards the man.

- What can I do for you, Miss Maximoff?

- I have some ideas for improving the team. - She says.

- Great! But we'll talk about them later. - Thanos replies with a serious expression, and as he looks across the room, Wanda looks at you, and quickly signals the window of the room. You blink in confusion, and when she whispers "window," Professor Thanos turns to her again.

- As you know, we have an important match against the Panthers coming up. - She starts to say, clearly trying to distract the man. You rush to gather your backpack and sneak out of his field of vision. - Wow, your muscles are huge! - She comments with a false sweetness in her voice, pulling the professor along and enabling you to run behind one of the pillars. The floor is very noisy and Wanda is trying to keep the man distracted by talking about match tactics, and when you finally reach the window, there is a metallic clatter and you think Thanos is going to see you, but then Wanda is pulling you by the arm again, and lifting up her own blouse.

The whole room makes a celebratory buzz and you try not to blush at the image of Wanda's exposed breasts, hurrying out, around the building on the fire escape and out the side.

//-//

It takes a while, but Wanda joins you.

- I can't believe you showed your breasts to a professor. - You remark with a laugh when she arrives.

- I can't believe you sang in front of the school. - She replies with a smile.

You shift the weight of your feet, staring at the ground for a second.

- Do you want to do something now? - you ask, and Wanda smiles as she nods.

You sneak off the school grounds, avoiding being seen by any security or teachers.

You end up in the city park, on the pedal boats in the middle of the sea.

- I can't stop thanking you for getting me out of detention. - You say with a smile as you pedal along together. - That was really nice.

- No problem.

You are silent for a moment, before you decide to ask her what she wants to know.

- What is your excuse?

- For what? - she asks confused.

- For behaving the way you do.

- I don't like to do what everyone expects. - She says. - Why should I meet other people's expectations and not my own?

- So you disappoint from the start, and then you don't have to worry?

She smiles lightly impressed.

- Yeah, something like that.

You nod, looking away.

- So you failed.

- How so?

- You've never disappointed me. - You confess, and Wanda looks at you. You smile at each other for a moment, before you look away again.

A few meters from the edge of the beach there is a paintball field.

- Hey, are you in? - you ask, pointing to the place.

- Yes. - Wanda agrees, slightly excited.

When you get off the pedal boat, you race to the paintball field, and Wanda absolutely beats you to it. You are laughing as you pay the entrance fee, watching her excitement.

After you put on your protective clothing, and get the paint ammunition, she moves first into the field, and hides, causing you to lose sight of her. You walk around looking around, and then feel something cold hit you on your back.

- Cheater! - You shout cheerfully, as you grab some paint from your ammunition pouch, and run toward Wanda, who is laughing as she tries to run away. You hit her in the leg.

And you stay in this race for several minutes, throwing paintballs at each other while laughing and trying to dodge the shots. At some point between ducking behind one of the obstacles, you corner Wanda, but she looks so cute that you don't have the heart to throw paint at her.

So you just put your hand down and smile. But seeing your hesitation, Wanda laughs and jumps at you, knocking you into the hay as she falls on top of you. You both laugh but your laughter dies down when you notice how close you are. And then she gets that look in her eyes again, and you want to kiss her, so you do.

And you kiss against the hay for many minutes, the feeling of having her against you makes you absolutely satisfied. And you continue there, until Wanda sighs against your lips, and you are warm, and it is better to stop before you are thrown out. And when you part, Wanda hits you on the head with a paint ball, and the moment changes completely. Soon you are back to playing and running.

//-//

On the way back to Wanda's house, you talked about the most varied subjects. When you are arriving, you start talking about the rumors that have been made at school about you two.

- I've heard that you sold your liver on the black market. - She remarked, making you laugh as you turned off the car.

- Those things are lies. - You retorted sheepishly as you got out and walked towards her backyard.

- The parole story?

- False - You deny it laughing. - The fight that ended in death in the parking lot?

- Rumor. - Wanda says with a laugh. - The robbery in New York?

- Just gossip. - You say. - And the kick in Tony Stark's nuts?

- True, he deserved it. - She says. - I'd do it again, he tried to grab me in the cafeteria.

You nod in agreement.

- What about your accent? - you ask curiously.

- I thought it was one at a time. - She jokes, and you shrug. You sit on her balcony. - It's real. My family is from Sokovia, we moved here when I was eight. - You grumble in agreement, waiting for Wanda's question. - Where were you last year? Since the parole story is a lie?

You laughed, looking away for a moment.

- I was in Colorado, living with my father. - You tell, and then look at her again, tucking her hair back behind her ear.

Wanda looks at you with curiosity and tenderness.

- Tell me something true.

- True? - you repeat with a thoughtful tone. - I hate peas.

She laughs lightly.

- No. Something real. - She clarifies. - Something no one else knows about.

- Okay. - You agree by coming closer. - You're sweet. - You tell her by lowering your head to her neck and kissing. - And sexy. - You kiss the skin on the other side. - And you're completely crazy about me. - You say as you bump your foreheads together, and Wanda laughs, pulling away a little.

- You have a huge ego, anyone ever tell you that? - she scoffs.

- I tell myself that every day. - You smile back, before kissing her. - Come to the prom with me.

- Is that a request or an order?

- Come on, go with me.

Wanda sighs.

- No.

- Why not?

- Because I don't want to, it's a silly tradition. - She explains.

- Now, nobody expects you to go.

- Why are you so insistent about it?

You look at her in surprise, feeling your heart race. Then of course you get defensive, because Wanda can't know. At your lack of response, she asks:

- What's in it for you? - She sounds suspicious and irritated.

- Now I need a reason to be with you?

- You tell me.

You look away, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

- You need therapy, you know. - You say back. - Has anyone ever told you that?

- Answer my question.

- Nothing. - You exclaim without patience, looking at her. - I get nothing, just the pleasure of your company.

You look out into the yard again, and Wanda lets out an angry exclamation before getting up and walking into the house, slamming the door.

You run your hands through your hair, hating that you accepted the damn money in the first place.

//-//

You thought Wanda was angry, but she calls you the next day after school. And she accepts the invitation. You are surprised, and feel guilty, but you are also happy to spend time with her.

She says she will accompany her sister, and meet you at the dance. So you stand at the entrance to the party, wearing your best clothes and trying not to look so anxious.

Wanda doesn't see you as she walks up the stairs to the party, and you bite your lip, impressed by how beautiful she looks.

You approach slowly, and whisper a hello in her ear, which startles her slightly, but she smiles turning to you.

- You look stunning. - You say breathlessly.

- So do you. - She replies with a smile.

You offer your arm for her to hold, and she accepts. You walk together toward the ballroom.

- How did you get such a fancy outfit? - she asks with a slight irony.

- Oh, I had kept it at home. For situations like this. - You joke.

- What situations?

- A date with a pretty girl. - You retort with a smile, and Wanda laughs lightly.

You walk to the entrance of the photos, and you lean against the pillar.

- I'm sorry I questioned your motives. - she says when you stop. - I was wrong.

You swallow dryly, feeling guilty. But you try to cover it up.

- You are forgiven.

Wanda smiles.

- Are you ready for the ball?

- Yes, miss. - You agree with a light laugh as you turn toward the party.

You dance together for a few minutes. The songs are terrible, but with Wanda, it's fun.

You also see Pietro and Monica dancing together, and Wanda exchanges a pleased look with her sister.

- Girl, have you seen him? - asks a redheaded girl walking up to Wanda. You know they are friends, and that her name was Nat or something like that.

- Who? - Wanda replies, confused.

- William! - she replies. - He asked me to come here.

You and Wanda exchange confused and amused glances.

- Natasha, please don't tell me you're hallucinating.

You were going to ask what they were talking about, but then you looked toward the stage and understood. You signaled for the girl to look, and she cracked a big smile when she saw Bruce Banner dressed as William Shakespeare waving at her, and walked off in your direction.

- I'm not even going to ask. - Wanda remarked with a chuckle before she went back to dancing with you.

And then the music is ending again, for a romantic one to take its place. You turn Wanda in your arms, kiss her tenderly for a moment, and then dance again, feeling her rest her chin on your shoulder.

And you dance for several minutes, and then someone pulls you away.

- Girl, what is Pietro doing here with that asshole? - Pepper asked aggressively as she pulled you away. - I didn't pay you to go out with Wanda and get nothing for it.

It was as if a bucket of cold water had fallen on you. Your gaze returned immediately to Wanda, and she was already looking at you with teary eyes.

- You have nothing to gain from this, have you?

she retorted wryly before walking away, bumping into you. You gave Potts one last look before following her.

- Wanda! Wait! Please! - You shouted as you walked out of the hall. She then stopped walking, and you let out a sigh. - Give me a chance to explain.

- You were paid to go out with me by the person I hate the most. - She retorted. - I knew it was a trick.

- No, Wanda. It wasn't like that.

- How was it then? An advance, and the rest of the money when you sleep with me?

- No! - You denied it with a shout. - I didn't care about the money! I cared about you.

Wanda shook her head, incredulously.

- You're different than I thought you were.

And then she turns and runs outside, and you sink your hands into your face, trying to calm yourself down.

- Where did she go? - You hear a male voice, and take your hands away from your face to see Pietro standing in front of you.

- Away. - You retort, feeling your stomach clench. - I screwed up.

- We did. - He says upset, putting his hands in his pockets.

- At least you got the girl. - You comment wryly before turning and walking away.

You think you're crying, but you don't care as you leave the party.

//-//

Your first lesson is literature the next day. And you know you will see Wanda, but you are hating yourself so much right now that you don't care. You arrive early for the first time in the whole school year, and sit in one of the back chairs.

As the other students arrive, you keep your head down, trying to distract yourself with your cell phone, even though you know that all your attention is on the girl sitting two chairs in front of you.

When Professor Fury finally starts the class, he is all excited.

- I guess everyone had time to finish the poem I asked for. - He announces standing at the front of the room. - Except for Mrs. Potts, who has an excuse. - He scoffs lightly, mentioning the confusion that occurred at the dance when you left, where Monica punched her in the nose. And now she was wearing sunglasses to cover up the purple. The whole room giggles at Fury's words. - Okay, does anyone want to start the reading?

The room is silent, but then Wanda raises her hand.

- I will.

- Lord, here we go. - Comments the teacher as the girl gets up, and stops at the front of the room. Wanda begins to recite the poem:

-I hate the way you talk to me. And the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. - She narrates, without taking her gaze from the notebook - I hate your big dumb combat boots, And the way you read my mind. I hate you so much, that it makes me sick, And even makes me rhyme. - She pauses, taking a deep breath - I hate the way you're always right, I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh. - She looks directly at you, her eyes filled with tears and her voice trembling. - Even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you not around. And the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, Not even close, Not even a little bit, not even at all.

Wanda lets the tears flow as she finishes, and the room was too shocked to react. She rushes out next, grabbing her backpack on the way, and slamming the door.

You are trying to hold back your own tears as you stand up.

- I'm going to the bathroom, Mr. Fury. - You grumble as you leave, without waiting for permission.

But you don't find Wanda, and you decide that you’re simply not in the mood for school today.

//-//

You sell your motorcycle. You hate that it has the parts for the money Potts gave you, so when it is fixed, you call Carol, and she finds you a buyer. This means you are stuck with your mother for a longer period, but it seems like the right thing to do.

And then you text Wanda, asking her to meet you wherever she wants. She says she won't leave the house to talk to you, so you end up at her front door, shifting the weight of your feet before you decide to knock.

Wanda's father looks stern, and he doesn't smile when he sees you.

- Are you the girl who made my daughter cry? - he asks with a serious expression.

But then Pietro appears at his side, patting him on the shoulder.

- My God, Daddy, don't be like that! - he asks, smiling at you. - Y/N, you are here to apologize, I imagine. Let her talk to Wands.

Mr. Maximoff takes one last look at you before entering back into the house, and Pietro smiles, nodding his head for you to enter.

- Thank you, Pietro. - You tell him, and then he takes you upstairs.

He drops you at Wanda's door, and you take a deep breath before knocking.

- Come in. - You hear her voice on the other side.

Entering the room, you are slightly overwhelmed by the amount of visual information. Wanda has many posters. And she is sitting on the bed, with a book on her lap.

- Hey. - You greet her, closing the door. You leave your hands in your pockets, deciding whether to stand.

- Hi. - She replies, placing the book on the bed and crossing her legs. - What did you want?

You swallow dryly, and decide to sit on her bed, keeping your distance.

- To apologize. - You clarify, and she looks away. - Properly apologize.

- I don't know what you want me to say.

- I just want you to listen. - You retort and straighten your posture, feeling your heart soar. - I'm sorry I took Potts' money, because regardless of my motives, it was wrong to put your feelings on the line.

- Wanda frowns slightly, as if deciding whether to believe you or not. You clear your throat.

- I never should have accepted it in the first place, but mostly I should have stopped when I realized I was falling in love with you. - You say, and Wanda looks at you, surprised by your confession. - But I didn't stop, and I lied to you and kept deceiving you, when I should have told you the whole truth. I'm sorry I hurt you, Wanda. I swear I didn't think all of this would happen.

You take a deep breath, running your fingers through your hair. Wanda just stands there, looking at you as if trying to read your mind.

- I just wanted to say that. - You tell her feeling flustered,

- Are you in love with me?

Wanda looks at you intently, and you just smile shyly.

-Very much so.

And then Wanda approaches you, and when she is close to your face, she says:

- I'm still mad at you. - And then she kisses you. You have missed her lips, and unfortunately the kiss doesn't last long.

When you open your eyes, Wanda has already moved away again, leaning her back against the headboard.

- When you are no longer angry, can we do something together? - you ask her tenderly. Wanda stares back at you, as if to say something.

- I received my acceptance letter today. - She tells you suddenly, and you blink in confusion. Before you can congratulate her, she adds. - In California.

You look at her in surprise, feeling your heart race. Wanda was leaving.

- Oh. - You swallow dryly, shake your head slightly, and smile. - I'm proud of you, Wanda. Congratulations.

- I thought you'd be upset.

- No, it's okay. - You give her a sad smile. - I'll miss you, but it's amazing that you're going to college.

Wanda lets out a sigh, keeping quiet for a moment.

- What did you need the money for?

You are surprised by the question, and look away from her, feeling slightly uncomfortable that this subject is back. But you decide that Wanda has the right to know whatever she wants to.

- I needed to fix my motorcycle. - You tell. - My mom is... hard to deal with. We had a fight and she broke some parts with a hammer. The next day, Potts was offering me the money I needed.

Wanda looks at you for a moment, seeming to be absorbing the story.

- Did you fix it?

- Yes. - You confirm, but let out a humorless chuckle. - But I sold it later.

The girl looks at you, frowning in confusion. And you shrug.

- I felt bad about everything. I decided to try to do the right thing then. - You explain. - I think I'm stuck with my mother for a while now.

Wanda looks surprised at your conclusion, and you let out a sigh, flopping down on the bed as you stare at the ceiling. You are silent for a moment, and then Wanda crawls over to you and lies down beside you, looking up at you.

- What if you leave with me? - She whispers, running her fingers across your face, and you blink in surprise.

- What?

Wanda smiles shyly.

- I have a car. - she says. - And you could work, and we could share an apartment.

You straighten your posture, leaning on your elbow and looking at Wanda in amazement.

- Are you serious? - you ask, smiling, and she nods slightly. You let out a happy exclamation, and move in, kissing her on the mouth. Wanda giggles against your lips, but returns the kiss.

You quickly let go and sit down on the bed when Wanda's father suddenly opens the door.

- Keep this door open! - He warns with a stern look, and you swallow dryly.

- Yes, sir. - Wanda says with humor.

When he leaves, you throw yourself on the bed next to Wanda, and she goes back to reading while you lie beside her.

- Any chance you have any comic books around here? - You joke, and Wanda giggles, denying it with a nod.

You don't mind though, her company is enough to keep you distracted.

//-//

You end up using the money from the motorcycle sale to pay the deposit on the apartment you find for yourselves, fifteen minutes from her college. You get a job the same week, and you finally read the poetry that Wanda likes as you both drive towards California.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda x reader #high school au #marvel imagines #wandaxreader #wandaxyou

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barbarianprncess · 3 years

Text

did you mean it?

read on ao3.

It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.

The first event isn’t really an event at all. It’s a prologue, necessary context to truly understand the monumentalism of this moment. It’s the memory of her eyes, piercing and reproachful, being the first thing that he saw after losing his mother. It’s shared trauma and oreos while they’re young and naive. It’s truces and training and growing up too soon together. It’s stargazing and stupid jokes saving eachother in every possible way. It's the culmination of the years Percy spent growing, learning, and being with Annabeth, and the unknown and therefore repressed feelings that came with it. Feelings are like the sea in that way, they don’t take well to being restrained. Percy has found that you cannot box in oceans or sentiments, they always find a way to spill over and out, with no regard for the destruction left in its wake.

The second event is Dionysus deciding on a whim that the inhabitants of his camp are ‘uncultured pests’ and taking it upon himself to set up a field trip for campers to the Ancient Greek Cultural Center in New York. (Percy thinks it’s really just to distract kids that were still shaken up about the battle at camp and the losses it caused. But, Dionysus would never say so. He’s far too proud to admit to caring for the children he’s been assigned to look after.) Argus loaded all the kids he could fit into the strawberry vans, as Chiron listed all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As it turns out, his worries were in vain as miraculously, no monsters attacked, and no mortal asked too many questions. No, instead, the only hitch in his plan was the glaring inaccuracies of the Center sending Dionysus into a fit of rage. He ranted for so long, their 2 hour long field trip ended up lasting until the place closed.

Event the third is the ridiculously long line leading to the mens room at the rundown gas station they’ve stopped at, causing Percy to traipse into the woods, deep enough to know that no one other than the squirrels were watching, and pee there. Unbeknownst to him, Annabeth had decided to take a quick walk in the forest as well, (in the opposite direction of his peeing endeavor) with the purpose of clearing her head. Both returned to the parking lot after 10 minutes, with no truck in sight. The gas station lights are turned off on the inside and the door sign has switched decidedly to closed. They look at each other in disbelief.

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh...did they…”

“They didn’t. They wouldn’t.”

“I think they would.”

“They would never-”

“I have pretty solid evidence to the contrary.” Annabeth deadpans, casually letting her hair loose and hopping on top of the miniature gas machine for motorcycles.

“But, how did-”

“No Argus.” Which means, no all-seeing eyes to double check the headcount. Percy begins to pace.

“Okay, but-”

“Two trucks.” Both of which are probably assuming Percy and Annabeth are on the other.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Leave them out of this.”

“Those fuckers.”

“Which ones?” She asks. He looks up and she’s fighting a smile. He pointedly doesn’t notice the way her mouth curls up, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders and down her back, or how pretty she looks lit up by the neon red lights of the gas stations prices, which apparently doesn’t turn off when they close.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know lots of things you don’t.”

“Ha-ha. I mean about how to get out of here.”

“Ohhhhh, let me think.” She wrinkles her nose in faux concentration, tilting her chin up towards the sky. Percy is too annoyed to think it’s adorable. “Nope, not a clue.”

“Your phone?”

“Left it on the truck.”

“Iris message?”

“Percy, it’s dark as shit.” The laughter she’s been holding in comes pouring out. Nevermind that he feels his chest sigh in relief at hearing it for the first time since their quest, this is serious.

“You’re laughing.”

“Just a little.”

“You’re telling me, you don’t have a brilliant plan to get us on a truck.”

“Yes.”

“So, we’re stuck here.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re laughing?”

“You’re just really funny when you’re stressed.” She giggles. He can’t remember the last time she giggled. He missed it. He hates her.

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay, look, I’m sorry. We’re halfway to camp right?” He nods. “I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re missing before they get all the way back to camp, but let's say, worst case scenario, they don’t-”

“Not helping-”

“And they make it the rest of the way back to camp. It took us four hours to get to the center, which means camp is two hours away, so if they make it the two hours back to camp before they realize we’re missing, and they drive back up-”

“C’mon ‘Beth, you know I suck at math.”

“We’re stuck here for five hours at most.”

“Five hours?”

“And that's if no passing cars let us use their phones to hurry the process up.”

“Five hours.”

She’s laughing again. “Seriously, what is so funny?”

“It’s just-” Her cheeks are red and she’s very poorly attempting to suppress her smile. “You’ve been calm in so many life or death situations, and being stuck at a gas station is what finally breaks through.”

“It’s nighttime.” She stares at him for a moment and then she’s laughing again, full bodied real laughter, and he's laughing too.

And it’s as if this gas station became their own personal Ogygia, an oasis, a resting place for them to be stupid kids again. And they don’t talk about the battle, or Rachel, or the volcano, or any of the million things set on tearing them apart. They talked about his mom getting serious about his new boyfriend, about Tyson’s underwater adventures and Grover’s searching shenanigans.

They smack talk with no real heat about who the better fighter is (Oh please, Seaweed Brain, I've been training since before you could tie your own shoes.), and argue about which ancient hero had the greatest journey (Hercules, are you kidding? Did you even read the myth?). They break into the gas station for snacks (What the fuck, Annabeth, where’d you learn to pick a lock? No, I wouldn’t prefer you break the glass, you psycho. Oh my gods, can you really break the glass?), and dissolve into giggles as they try to fit five drachma into the cash register.

They end up back outside sitting on the gas machines facing one another from three feet away.

“Your mom called me the other day.”

Percy, who’d been lazily squinting up at the murky sky, searching for any sign of stars, whipped his head to look at her. “What?”

“She called me on the phone. We talked for a bit. She said she wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“That sounds like something she would do.” He sighs and hops down from the machine, turning away from her, hoping to hide his blush from the dim light. “She cornered me on one of my off weekends, asked what was going on with us.”

“Oh.” He hears the shifting of fabric and assumes she followed him in sliding off the gas machine.

“Yeah.” It’s silent for a long time before she responds.

“What did you say?” She asks, her voice smaller than it was moments ago. He hears her scratching at the flat metal top of the machine. “When she asked, what did you say?”

He runs his finger through his hair, and one gets caught in a particularly large snarl. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” She whispers and gods he’s terrified but he really doesn’t have a choice when her voice wavers like that. Her words shake and every ounce of his being tells him to do whatever it takes to soothe it.

“I said we were fighting. That there wasn’t one sole reason for it, just a bunch of little reasons. I told her that I scared you when I….went away for two weeks last summer. And that you didn’t like bringing Rachel on your quest. I told her that we….. disagree about how to best handle Luke. That I probably wanted to protect you more than I wanted to listen to you.” She laughs softly and he blames what he says next on her laugh. It is the catalyst for everything that follows.

“I told her that we’d be okay. Because no matter what happens I’m always gonna love you.”

He hears her breath catch. He doesn’t have to look back to know she’s turned to face him fully. “Did you mean it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer. The words haven’t caught in his throat, they’ve spontaneously combusted in his vocal chords and he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak again.

The sound of gravel crunching gets closer until suddenly she's beside him, and he didn’t tell his torso to twist toward her, he thinks she might just be his center of gravity.

“Did you mean it?”

She’s looking up at him, and her hair smells like lemons, and her cheeks are pink, and her eyelashes go on for miles, and her sunspots are better than stars. And it’s as if she pulls the words right out of him, he’s hypnotized by everything about her.

“Of course I meant it.”

She exhales and closes her eyes and while he mourns the loss of the sight, his body moves on it’s own accord again and he’s edging closer and closer and she opens her eyes and here they are.

Their noses brush, and this time he closes his eyes, and their noses brush just so, and…

Whoa.

He was wrong, it wasn't just those three significant events that to her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts positively bleeding. It’s clear he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment at this shitty gas station.

Waiting for this. Waiting for her.

They kiss for a moment or an eternity, and they fit. His hands are on her hips and hers clutch at his shirt before sliding up to his throat, and it’s like his soul is whispering, oh there you are.

And then she’s pulling back, so she has just enough space to shake her head without disconnecting from his forehead.

She's breathless when she whispers, “This is a bad idea.”

His hands trail up and down her forearm of their own accord, and when he whispers back he’s breathless too. “Yeah, really bad idea.”

Her hands slide up from his chest to his shoulders, and then she’s kissing him again, with purpose, and he’s kissing back like his life depends on it because he thinks it might, thinks if he lets go of her he’d die on the spot.

It seems his theory might get tested when she pulls back again just far enough to whisper against his lips, “Is it always like that?”

He kisses her again, once, twice, because he can’t help it and whispers back, “I don’t know, you were my first kiss.”

He’d released any serious hold he had on her the moment she hesitated, but then she’s rocking back up to meet him halfway and his entire body thinks thank the gods. He actually sighs his relief into her mouth, as his hands desperately reach for her face, some fingers tangling in her hair, and their lips are magnets, opposites that don’t have a choice but to pull together. Despite how much he wants to keep doing this forever, he has to tell her.

“I don’t wanna lose you, again.” He means not ever, but he figures she understands the severity in his voice. She’s running her hand through his hair, and his slide up and down her back, and she knocks her nose against his as she answers, “I know, me either. I’m confused, this is confusing me.” And she tilts her chin just so, like she did a million years ago, and this time he kisses her.

They kiss for an infinity, he gets to taste her laughter when she giggles at the absurdness of it all, and it’s better than ambrosia. He kisses her until he doesn’t know anything else, until his entire universe is Annabeth Chase, with her cheeks and her curls and her lips. She is everything.

And then headlights penetrate their universe, voices bring an end to their infinity, and Chiron is speaking but it’s nothing, it’s all white noise because she’s no longer in his arms, and his center of gravity is being ripped away and he hears someone ask, “What’d you guys do?”

He’s still looking at her face when she answers, “You know, tried not to strangle each other mostly.”

But, she looks back before she turns all the way around and her gaze is charged and her lips quirk with the secret they share.

He is so screwed.

#so i wrote this in like two hours and its probably a mess but. here you go ig.#aoah ch 3 will be out soon but in the meantime #heres this lol #percabeth #percabeth fic #my fic #my writing #if you comment or rb i will die for you

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

My knight in shining armour

Rowaelin month Day 2 - University AU

I literally just finished this. I wasn’t going to write for this prompt but then an idea finally hit me.

The title as usual is bad... sorry

2k words

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Aelin had days in which she hated men. That was one of those days.

After finishing high school she decided to took a challenging course at the University of Terrasen. Her dad, before he retired, had been an airforce pilot. She had grown up going around his base, visiting him when he was back. In doing so, she had become obsessed with planes. As she grew up, her dad had let her get friendly with his engineer and the man had started teaching her all she needed to know about aircrafts. From the basic physics to the more obscure detail of how the jet worked. Aelin had been fascinated. She had started reading all the possible books, and as she got older, her dad’s engineer had also started having her to actually help her in the hangar. In the summer when school was out, she would actually get a part-time job as an apprentice at the base and she had loved every moment of it. She had also become very close with the two female pilots and together they had spent time talking about the life of a woman in a boys club. The two women had become her role models very quickly.

Terrasen was quite and open minded country but some ideas were still quite obsolete.

In high school at the question “what you want to be when you grow up?” She always answered an aircraft engineer for the airforce. She never faltered or never doubted. That’s what she wanted to, that was her path.

But when time for uni arrived and she applied for a degree in aeronautical engineering, that’s when she realised that the boys club extended far more than she expected.

She was basically the only woman in the class. None of the guys had approached her and on the first day she had walked in the classroom, one of them had the guts to tell her that the humanities department was in the annex c. She ignored the bastard and sat down at the front. She belonged in that room and she would prove it to every single one of them.

Day after day she had shown her knowledge and surprised her professor who was amazed at the fact that she could answer such in depth questions. Last time it happened, she had turned to Chaol - the asshole who had told her about the annex c, and gave him a smirk. That had removed his stupid grin from his face. It felt amazing.

During a private one-to-one with her professor she had confessed to him she had been working at the airbase as an apprentice during the past three summers. Her teacher had luckily been very supportive and encouraged her to keep up the good work.

Now, six months in, she still hated with a vengeance the arseholes she had to study with. Some of them even had the guts to ask her for some help after they realised she was actually good. She had answered that surely they didn’t want the help of a woman, and walked away.

After another class it was finally lunch time and she was meeting Rowan down at their spot on the grass. They were a couple. He had asked her out in the summer after high school was over and they had been together ever since. He was a med student and he knew her pain about choosing a challenging degree. Both their degrees were very intense and required a lot of time so they would just try and spend as much time together as they could. They had a flat together but the public library was were they spent most of their time.

And when their schedules allowed it, they would enjoy lunch together, venting about their academical choices.

“I fucking hate that bastard.” She raged, dropping her bag on the grass and sitting at his side, depositing a kiss on his lips. She felt better almost immediately, being in his arms was all she needed to feel okay again.

“What did he do now?” Asked Rowan knowing of her struggles in her classes.

Aelin grabbed her bag and pulled out her food, the dinner that Rowan had prepared the previous night and then packed away for both of them.

“The teacher gave us an exercise where we had to design an aircraft with what we had learned so far.” She told him, while munching away her food “He was up first and his project was a effing disaster. Seriously, I’d wouldn’t want to fly on a plane designed by him.” She took a sip of her water “the teacher asked us to say what was wrong and it took me ten minutes to stop. I mean, a two year old would have done a better job with lego bricks.”

Rowan giggled at her side “then my turn came and the bastard had the guts to tell me that the aerodynamics of my plane were off and that my ailerons where wrong as well and would not allow the plane to function properly. I took my laptop and shoved it in his face and told him to find the error in my math. He had no clue.” Her face turned smug “then the teacher took over and said that actually my project was, among all, the only one that could actually fly. I felt smug as fuck.”

Rowan pulled an arm around Aelin’s shoulder and pulled her to him. He was proud of her. Every damn day.

“Then after class, he threw me a paper plane and inside it had a message saying this is the only plane you will ever build or work on. I swear, the guy is still alive only because I am not looking forward to finishing my degree via distance learning from a prison.”

She calmed down “how was your day?”

Rowan leaned back against the tree “I had anatomy and physiology. Today we covered the endocrine system and it must be one most boring of them all.”

“Well,” she added with a big smile “when you cover the reproductive system you are welcome to practice with me…”

He laughed and squished her to her chest “I am a very big fan of your… bits.” She kissed him deeply not caring that they were in public, she wanted him and hated that they had more classes before being able to go home and then alas, study more. Maybe for one evening they could study something different.

“Aelin?”

“Yes, buzzard?”

His tongue gently teased her and she opened for him while his hand brushed off a rebel strand of hair.

He pulled back “Nothing, you had tomato sauce on you lips. I was just wiping it off. Did you think I wanted to kiss you?”

Aelin gently punched him on the shoulder, in return he gave her a massive grin. Rowan was a very reserved man who struggled with stranger, but she had her own version, the goofy one, the one who made jokes and loved to cuddle with her. She would treasure that version forever. That was just for her.

They were busy chatting away and she was showing him on her laptop the exercise she had been working on and her plane prototype and although what she was saying was greek to him, he still listened to her in fascination.

She was telling him how a plane flew and the four forces when a figure stopped in front of them.

“It must be exciting to brag with your boyfriend about your hopeless projects.” Said the man.

Rowan raised his eyes and finally saw the face of the man that had been making Aelin’s life miserable.

“What did you just say?” Rowan stood and towered on the brown-haired man by twenty centimetres. Chaol also looked frail compared to Rowan’s muscular frame.

“Chaol, you’d better go.” Not that she cared about the man, she just didn’t want Rowan to get into trouble for a petty man.

“You’d better give up while you still can, Galathynius. Aeronautical engineering is not a field for a woman.” He crossed his arms at his chest trying to look intimidating but the look in Rowan’s eyes told her it was a useless attempt. Her boyfriend was ready to attack. She knew he had never hit anyone, but had a feeling that if Chaol didn’t stop it could be a first for Rowan.

“Chaol,” she stood as well and growled his name in warning.

“Oh, so you are one of those arseholes who believes that certain jobs can be done only by those who were born with a penis. It’s the fucking 21st century. Grow up, idiot.”

Rowan swore, alarm bells rang in Aelin’s head. He only swore when he was extremely mad, something that her unflappable boyfriend rarely was.

“Oh look, Galathynius, you have a knight in shining armour.”

Aelin moved between Rowan and Chaol, trying to separate them when her boyfriend moved a step closer to the other guy.

Chaol chuckled “Did you sleep with every professor—” but Chaol never finished his sentence. She saw the scene develop in slow motion in front of her. At those words Rowan’s face had turned feral and as on instinct his arm moved and a second later his fist found its target in Chaol’s face.

Rowan then grabbed Chaol by the collar and lifted him up slightly “You take it back, immediately or I’ll smash all the twenty two bones in your skull.”

“Go on,” said Chaol, nursing a broken lips.

Aelin stopped in between and grasped Rowan’s hand gently “Put him down, Ro, he is not worth it.”

Her gaze then turned to Chaol “now you go back to whatever shithole you came from and perhaps go back working on your project and design a real aircraft.” She moved closer to him “I know what the fuck I am doing. And I know I will have a job in the airforce after this. You will just go back being daddy’s little spoiled boy.”

Chaol glared at her and Rowan finally let go of him, bur before he fully released him he pulled the man close enough that his mouth was near his ear “you disrespect her like that one more time and you’ll finish your degree from a hospital bed while sipping your food from a straw.” Rowan flashed his teeth in a threatening gesture “you leave her alone, because if I hear you have been a bastard to her one more time, I will make your life a living hell.” And eventually released him. Chaol shrugged his t-shirt back into place and walked away without adding another word.

Rowan sighed and then turned to her, his expression back being soft as soon as she looked back at him.

“You didn’t have to punch him,” she said while snuggling against his chest. His arms quickly around her.

“Yes I had to. What he said….” She felt him tense up again “he made me so mad, fireheart.”

“Seeing you thump him was very sexy,” she kissed him gently on the lips “my knight in shining armour.”

Rowan chuckled and looked into he blue eyes “you don’t need a knight. You are fierce, brave and strong and do not need any protection,” he added, his lips on her head. Nesting under his chin was her favourite position. They fit perfectly “I, on the other hand, as a male who is hopelessly in love with you, felt the desperate need to avenge the sullied honour of my amazing other half.”

Aelin giggled hard “you really sound like a knight.”

“Come on, Sir Rowan Whitethorn of Wendlyn, let’s finish our lunch, I have an hour of mechanics of flight coming up and I need sustenance.”

“Yes, my queen,” he said kneeling in front of her.

Aelin laughed and kissed him deeply “maybe I can be your queen tonight in bed as well.”

His smirk grew wider and Aelin felt heat pool at her core at his expression.

“Whatever m’lady commands.”

They finished their lunch in peace without any more interruptions and eventually they parted ways, going to their respective classes.

Chaol did not bothered her anymore. He didn’t even met her gaze and him ignoring her was all she asked. She was there to learn, he could just go and sulk in the afterburner of a jet, perhaps while on, for all she cared.

Aelin texted Rowan a thank you and his reply was a simple To whatever end.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #chaol westfall #university au #Throne of Glass series

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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years

Text

Keep Away

Yandere!Bakugou x reader

It’s a special occasion, so Bakugou decides to wine and dine you. It’s too bad for him that you’re intent on ignoring him.

Warnings: yandere, dark themes, lime, forced orgasm, minor food kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, light violence

A/N: I woke up at like three in the morning and decided to finish this. I saw a bad ending to a certain cyberpunk bl dating sim, and thought “would be kinda cool to be force fed cake,” but then it didn’t really turn into all that much cake feeding which is probably for the best. Who’s to say. It’s just kinda fun to say “it came to me during a cyberpunk bl dating sim bad end,” rather than, “it came to me in a dream.” Also, I’m so sorry if you read this and go “ew strawberry cake isn’t my jam. Belgium chocolate 5evah!!!!1!!” but if you do happen to like strawberry cake, I got you fam.

“So you’re not talkin’ to me now, is that it?”

You keep your gaze low, careful not to even lock eyes with your captor—because no, you’re not talking to him, you’re not looking at him, you’re not even going to acknowledge his existence. It’s your verbal keep away. You’ve decided that it’s the worst possible punishment for Bakugou—ignoring him. You’ve tried just about everything: screaming at him, hitting him, crying to him, begging for your release, and it’s all given you nothing. You figure, why be anymore of a source for his entertainment?

“You should at least thank me for cookin’ you a proper meal.”

From across the candlelit table, Bakugou uncrosses his arms, glaring from the admittedly very well-made plate, to you. He clicks his tongue when you don’t respond, then moans around a mouthful of pad-see-ew, just like he knows you can’t stand.

“It’s so good, baby. Practically melts on my tongue…”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at that. It would be different if it wasn’t his food he complimented, but that’s Bakugou for you. Insolent, prideful, and terrible.

Bakugou stabs his chopsticks into his plate. “You’re not wearing the dress I bought. Not good enough for you?”

You didn’t even try it on. You want to tell him, but that would only spur him on. Bakugou likes it when you challenge him. He always gets that stupid smirk on his face, that daring look in his eye—always like he’s ready to bend you over and fuck you into submission. More often than not, that’s what ends up happening.

“Your ass would look great in it,” he says before taking another mouthful. You can feel his crimson glower scorching your skin, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “You can wear whatever you want, though. I want your ass even in those sweats.”

You exhale and lean back back in your chair. He really has to be so vulgar, doesn’t he? Well, that’s not gonna make you crack.

“Yeah, I won’t force you in it. Not yet, at least.” Bakugou grins at the thought, chewing loudly. “I wouldn’t mind playing a little dress up with my doll.”

Your lip twitches, and you hope he doesn’t see. You have to squeeze your thighs together and ignore impending thoughts of Bakugou’s hands on you—first tearing your clothes off, then slowly, sensually zipping that tight, black dress up. You can’t keep from imagining his lips grazing your back, hands running through your hair, him pressing into your backside…

“Need some water, babe? You’re looking a little flushed.”

Your eyes snap to Bakugou’s and your cheeks warm even more when you realize he’s just caught you fantasizing. At least he doesn’t know what you were thinking about. Christ, you could only imagine the field day he’d have with you if he found out you ever thought about him like that.

After you’ve spent plenty of time hating yourself for having these thoughts, you’ve come to the conclusion that it has to be natural. In a psyche class you’ve taken, you learned a bit about Stockholm syndrome, and though you’re sure you’re definitely not falling in love with your captor, it’s perfectly fine that you occasionally think about him in the lusty kinda way. Admittedly, he’s earned it with the amount of orgasms he’s given you since you’ve been taken. But he hasn’t earned your love. Definitely not.

Bakugou stands, folding his napkin onto the table, and walks over to the ice chest he has on standby. He’s wearing his red dress shirt, paired with that white floral vest and nice slacks. You want to know what the occasion is for, but you won’t ask. You’re definitely underdressed, and a part of you wishes you had put on that dress he picked out for you.

You close your eyes and empty your mind of such stupid thoughts.

“How about some champagne?” Bakugou flips a knife out and cuts the cork off with a pop!, making you jump a little bit. He glides over to you, puts his hand on your shoulder, leans in, and fills the crystalline flute sitting on the table. He smells like spice and that natural burnt toffee aroma he has. It’s so nice that you can’t help but lean into him just a teeny bit. And he notices.

“You’re gonna eat somethin’ for me, yeah?” he whispers lowly into your hair before kissing your temple. You freeze while he moves down your neck, brushing a finger along the opposing side of your face, coaxing your head to turn. “Or are you not in the mood for Thai? We can always skip straight to dessert.”

Bakugou dips down to kiss you, but you turn so he misses and kisses your ear. He growls out a sigh and you clench your hands into fists. You’re waiting for it—for him to lose his cool. You don’t know why he’s trying to act kindly to you, but that’s sure to end at any moment, and when it does, he’s going to feel guilty. You’re planning on exposing him as the monster you’re always accusing him of being.

“I’m serious, I made cake,” he says, a slight edge in his voice. He twirls a finger around a strand of your hair, tugging it so you face him. “Your favorite. Strawberry cream frosting, and it tastes fucking fantastic.”

Bakugou’s gaze drops down to your lips before finding your eyes. “I could feed it to you—have you lick that sweet cream right off the tips of my fingers.”

Your scowl tightens on him. He smirks.

“Your lips always look the prettiest when they’re wrapped around something. I’m startin’ to really like that idea.”

“Why?” you bite out, because you can’t take it anymore. You’re either going to die from curiosity or die from embarrassment when he inevitably undresses you and finds out just how much his teasing gets to you, and you won’t let him have that.

Even still, Bakugou looks as triumphant as ever because you gave him what he wants: your attention.

“Why what, huh?”

“Why the dress!” You bark, resolve out the damn window. “The meal, the champagne, the cake?! Why are you trying to be so nice to me all of a sudden?”

“I’m not trying to be nice. I am nice.” Bakugou rolls his eyes as if he’s explaining something simple to a child.

“No, you’re not!” You insist. “You’re...you’re…” Shock sets in and your shoulders grow rigid. He couldn’t possibly be...but if he is...he’d be absolutely daft to think you’ll say yes. “You’re not proposing to me, are you?”

“Hah?” Bakugou’s eyes widen. You definitely caught him off guard, and you could melt from the steaming blaze in your cheeks. “You want me to put a rock on those pretty fingers of yours? Make an honest man out of me?”

“No! No!” You exclaim on a head shake. “I just thought...with the whole atmosphere-“

“Princess,” he interrupts, taking your hand into his. He brings the back of your wrist to his lips, and for a moment, you think you could be right about him proposing after all. At least, until he speaks again. “We ain’t gonna get hitched ‘til you’re good and knocked up—at least four months in, too. That way, there won’t be a chance in hell you can skip out on me.”

There won’t be a chance in hell he will knock you up with your IUD in, so good luck to him on that endeavor. It’s not like he doesn’t know about it, either. There’s a reason why he’s never been hesitant to enter you unwrapped. Although, considering what he just said, you don’t believe he’d be any different if the circumstances were different.

Your lips curl into a snarl. “Then what’s going on?!”

“You seriously don’t know?” He scoffs, then leads your hand to your champagne flute. Once you take it, Bakugou tells you he’ll be right back, and you down the drink. You let the bubbles wash down your throat and quickly take a bite of noodles before he sees. You sigh. They really do melt on your tongue. Bastard.

Before you know it, the faint smell of burning wics envelope your space, and all the lights in the room besides the candles on the table dim. Then, there’s a cake placed in front of you—pink, with intricate, white designs lining its frosted edges. You count the candles and there are exactly the same amount of years you’ve been on this earth, plus one—no, not plus one.

You look up to Bakugou for an explanation. He’s simply grinning down at you, looking proud.

“Happy birthday, baby.” Bakugou kisses the top of your head. “Make a wish.”

Absently, you blow the candles out, but you don’t make a wish, because your brain is too busy doing mental math. On your last birthday, you’d gone on a date with Hitoshi Shinsou. He took you to a cute, little café, bought you a coffee and a tiny cake. He’d ended the night with one of the shyest, sweetest kisses you’ve ever received. Not even four days later, Bakugou took you. You never got to thank Shinsou for that perfect day.

The hair on the back of your neck rises with the sudden realization that you’ve been with Bakugou for nearly an entire year. That’s one year of your life ripped away from you. One year where you haven’t made any progress achieving your dreams. One year that you’ll never get back.

“What’d ya wish for?” Bakugou asks, but you hardly hear him due to the scathing fury that rings in your ears and burns your back. You’re unsure of what you should say or how you should react; you already pulled the silent treatment and you think you’re far too livid to go zipping your lips again.

There’s only one thing you can do: go absolutely batshit crazy.

“I hate you!”

With a quick shuffle, the cake is splattered on the table, your plate flies across the room, and chopsticks are in your hand, aiming for Bakugou’s eyes. It’s too bad for you that Bakugou either expects it, or his reflexes are just so good that he catches you by the wrist before you can stab him. You’re immediately twisted around, chest on the table, arm pinned to your back, and his erection pressing into your ass.

“Yeah? You hate me?” Bakugou’s voice is erratic, husky, dripping with lust. He climbs on top of you, grinds into your behind, and hisses, “wanna say that again?”

“Let me go, asshole!” You below and try to buck him off of you, which only encourages him to pull your arm tighter, forcing you into paralysis. You grit your teeth while tears sting your lower lashes. The only weapon you have is your voice, and that’s always proven ineffective against him in the past. Still, you can’t stop yourself from yelling. “It’s been a goddamn year! I’m sick of being your prisoner!”

“Is that right?” Bakugou shifts, and you hear the sounds of metal clanking. You know instantly that he’s taking off his belt. You writhe as much as you possibly can, fearing a lashing. He hasn’t ever really hit you before, and though getting him to the point had been your end goal, taking the belt is a whole other level of pain you’re not willing to endure.

“Katsuki,” you pant, desperate. “Please, no. Please don’t. It’s...it’s my birthday!”

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Bakugou releases your wrist, and goes for your hair instead. He yanks you back so that his chest presses against your back. His lips are against the junction of your shoulder and neck as he growls, “after everything I’ve fuckin’ done for you? Ungrateful little slut.”

He pulls your sweats down, cupping your ass roughly with his large, calloused hands. They feel good—his rough touch against your soft cheeks—and despite feeling fearful for the state of your ass, you can feel yourself getting aroused. “I really gotta put you in your place today of all days?” He squeezes your ass tight and possessive, like he owns it, and in the moment, you can’t really say that he doesn’t.

“No,” you cry and god you’re pathetic. You had this entire plan set up and now it’s barreling out of your control. As his lips graze your shoulder, you let out a sigh and say, “the cake was really, really pretty, Katsuki. I’m sure I would’ve loved it. I’m sorry I did that. I just…”

“Just what?” He rasps against your neck before his hot tongue draws a long line across your skin, making you shiver in response.

“I was just...overwhelmed,” you admit. “Our anniversary-“ you choke out, the words sour on your tongue, but you manage to make it sound sweet-“is just around the corner. I wasn’t prepared...I don’t have a whole lot of resources to do something special for you…”

Katsuki Bakugou sure is a lot of things, but he’s not a moron. You’re positive he can read your facade like a book and he’s certainly not one to play along. .

“Oh yeah? You wanna do something for me?” He sucks in your earlobe between his teeth, nibbling playfully. You mewl as Bakugou reaches around your body, large fingers moving down the front of you and sliding down your pubic bone. He dips two fingers between your lips, swiping smugly at the traitorous puddling at your core. “Is this really what gets you off, sweetheart? Lying to me just so I get a little rough with you?”

“N-no.” You try to sound stern, sure of yourself, but Bakugou is light to the touch, fingers barely teasing your sensitivity. You catch yourself grinding into them, directly resulting in your ass moving against his erection. You can feel him pulse against you, and it only makes your pussy throb in direct result, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Just admit you want me,” he seethes, pressing more firmly against you while his middle finger teases your entrance. “You like me like this. You don’t want sweet—you want me to be a hard ass, don't you? Why else would you act like such a slutty little brat? Good girls don’t get wet after shit like this, baby. Good girls don’t like to be thrown around.”

“Katsuki,” you say on a sigh while bringing a hand to his arm, hoping to direct him to break through your surface.

“Put your hands on the table,” he growls.

“Please.” You ignore him, pulling his arm more insistently, needing him to deepen his touch.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you; put your hands on the table, or I won’t hesitate to use this belt against your bare fuckin’ ass. I’ll lick you so good, you’ll have bruises for months. You’ll need to sit on a fuckin’ ice pack the next time I’m courteous enough to have you dine with me at my table.”

Shuddering, you obey him, planting your palms against the flat of the table, away from the splattered cake. Bakugou lets out a contemptuous scoff, brings your wrists together, and easily wraps his belt around them, tight and with no leeway.

He then pushes your shirt up so that it’s around your wrist with the belt, and pulls your sweats down all the way off of your legs. You’re virtually naked in front of him, with the exception of your bra and panties, helpless to do anything about it. Just like he likes it. He always wants you to bite back until he gets you to submit. He was probably enjoying your little silent treatment show, too; it was just another kind of rebellion, another barbel that he’s fought and won.

A tingle runs down your spine as he traces it with calloused fingers. You feel your stomach tighten from anticipation when he reaches your tailbone and his touch leaves your body. You hear him chuckle as he pulls at a strap of your thong, snapping it back into place. “At least I know you like the panties I got you.”

Pain bursts on your right cheek as the sound of his sharp slap ricochets around the dining room. You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out—even still, you’re trembling when he rubs the sore spot.

“Awww,” he coos, snickering. “You gonna try and act tough?”

You exhale, trying and failing to keep a steady breath, but it’s all wrong and you’re already panting.

“Show me how much you hate me, baby, I wanna hear you sing it.”

The next lick comes without any precursor, no warning, no time for you to brace yourself, so when he slaps your ass, you can’t help but cry out—ecstatic or indignant—it’s not your place to decide.

“Katsuki!” You fall forward, forehead on the table, inches away from the ruined cake.

He chuckles at your position, petting the back of your hair. “If you want me to stop, you’re gonna have to lick it up, Princess.”

Your eyes narrow and you shoot a sideways glare back at him. “I’m not a dog.”

His lips tilt sideways, cocky and annoyingly hot, cheeks red, brow raised provocatively. “You sure look like a bitch to me.”

He spanks you a third and fourth time, and your mouth hangs open with unspoken yelps, a familiar, shameful feeling traveling down your stomach to your throbbing heat.

Taking a second, Bakugou dips his fingers into the pink frosted mess in front of your eyes, and brings it to your mouth. “Taste it for me. I worked hard to get the flavor right,” he commands, smearing the cream over your bottom lip. You’re helpless to oblige. Only, when you stick your tongue out, he pushes two fingers into your mouth.

“Bite me, and I’ll have you tied up for the entire night. I’ll make you scream until you’re on the edge of passing out, then I’ll fuck you awake. I’ll use you—fill every hole you’ve got ‘til you’re nothing but a leaky drainpipe full of my cum. Do I make myself clear?”

“Mhmm…” Not wanting to test to see if he was just making empty promises, because he never makes empty promises, you glide your tongue around his fingers, aiming to please. You let out a soft, appreciative hum when you taste the sweet, strawberry flavored frosting, and suck his fingers clean.

“Good girl,” he says, his fingers leaving your mouth, only to dip back into the cake. He brings them back to your lips and you take him in willingly. “Now, I don’t want to hear another word out of that pretty little mouth, until I tell you to speak. Understand?”

You look at him with affirmation. He spanks you again.

Your body jolts, spit and cream drooling out of your mouth as you moan, trying not to utter a comprehensive word. The vibrations from the impact sends waves of pleasure dancing across your clenching heat. He hasn’t even really touched your sex, and yet, you feel the coils of an approaching orgasm winding up in the pit of your stomach.

The sixth and seventh spank has tears falling down your cheeks. The heat is too much to bear and you can feel sweat sliding down your back. You want to warn him—to request that he takes a break, because the oncoming shame that’s making your toes tingle and your heart race might be a little more humiliating than having him torture you for the entire night. But you say nothing, your curiosity besting your dignity. The next spank does you in. Your body shakes as you wail, your coils breaking while you pool out, thighs sheened with your arousal. There’s absolutely no hiding yourself, and Bakugou is going to be all too smug about this. You simply cannot believe yourself.

“No way,” Bakugou husks, fingers leaving your mouth. You’re panting again when he brings his fingers to your fluttering pussy. He pushes them in and all you can offer is a sigh when he’s up to his digits in you.

“Aww...oh no.” You can’t tell if his concern is genuine or not, but it doesn’t matter to you. You’re ashamed, embarrassed, and defeated. He’s never going to let you live this down. You can already hear his future taunts buzzing around in your head. ‘You can’t pretend like you don’t like me when I’ve made you cum just by spanking your perfect little ass.’

God-fucking-damn it.

He has all the merit to tease you for it now, and you’re expecting him to—hell, you’re practically bracing yourself for it, but instead, he pulls his fingers back and pushes your bottom over, so you face him.

“Ah~Ow!” You wince when your butt hits the table.

“Ah. C’mere.” He frowns and pulls you up by the belt at your wrist. You don’t stop yourself from falling into his embrace. He might be the source of all of your dread, but he’s also your only means of comfort. You let your tears roll onto his chest, muffling your sobs into his shirt. He hushes you, nails tickling your back as he kisses your hair. “S’okay, princess. You’re okay. I’m here.”

“I’m s-sorry,” you cry, and though your wrists are still bound, you manage to clutch onto his shirt. You pull him into you, shamelessly reveling in the familiarity of his scent.

“Hmm?” He lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What for?”

Your lips tremble and you shake your head, unable to voice exactly what you’re sorry for. Climaxing? Telling him that you hate him? Treating him so poorly when all he does is take care of you? You shake your head again when the actualization of your situation sets into the forefront of your mind. There’s practically a river of tears streaming down your face now and you wish for nothing more than to do disappear, because you’re a stupid girl, there’s cake in your hair, and Stockholm syndrome is bullshit!

“What is it?” He insists, he is tone low, caring.

Dumb. You’re so dumb. Your brain is screaming at you to not say anything, but your skin still buzzes from the thrill of your orgasm. Despite loathing yourself more than ever, you’re practically high, both from catharsis and euphoria.

“I don’t...hate you.” It’s small but it’s there—your voice. There’s a lot to decode from your confession, and by the way Bakugou’s eyes soften just the tiniest bit, you know that he knows what you will not say..

His thumb brushes across the corner of your mouth, wiping away at some residual frosting, then brings it up to where your lips part.

“I know,” he says as you take him in again, swirling your tongue around his thumb, now enjoying the taste of the cake. “Of course I know.”

Your heart swells when he doesn’t laugh at you. He doesn’t even look all that proud of himself. He simply gazes at you with adoration and amazement—and, of course, lust because you have your lips wrapped around something. Prick.

“That was very hot, babe,” he says before kissing your forehead. “I really didn’t think that you could be so responsive to me.” He chuckles darkly, but it lacks his familiar malicious undertone. “Don’t really feel like I earned it, either.”

His thumb leaves your mouth, slides against your bottom lip, and is abruptly replaced with a kiss. Bakugou’s tongue teases your mouth open, then caresses yours with his. “Mmm,” he hums, the reverberations of his voice sending sensational buzzes down your neck. He nips at your bottom lip, then smirks against you. “Tastes good.”

He kisses you again, molding his lips perfectly to yours, and you feel his arousal poke at your bound hands. Not quite lucid enough to think it through, but feeling a bit mischievous yourself, you cup his girth through his trousers, rubbing his hard length up and down. You run your tongue against his, wanting to taste the power he has over you.

“You want me, baby?” Bakugou asks, pressing himself more firmly into your hands. “You wanna feel me slide inside that wet pussy of yours?”

Still not willing to give him a verbal confirmation, you squeeze his cock, legs wrapping around his torso to pull him closer to you. He growls when you have him grinding against your heat, a dark stain appearing on the prominent bulge he rubs against you. When he pulls away, you see that his pupils are blown, barely a sliver of his crimson iris to be seen. He looks moonstruck, predatory, and beautiful.

“Naughty girl,” he scolds, a tick in his jaw. He pushes you lightly, easing so that your back is on the table, your legs spread out for him. He groans when he runs a finger up your damp, clothed slit.

“I asked you a question,” he continues, playing with your core. He gets a dreamy look in his eye when he pulls your panties to the side, and feels exactly how wet you are for him. Then, he shoots a scathing glower your way. “Do. You. Want. Me. To. Fuck. You?”

“Yes,” you say with a nod. “I want you to fuck me, Katsuki.”

“That’s really too bad.” He snickers arrogantly and your heart falls into your stomach. Didn’t you just have a soft moment?! “Only good girls get fucked, pretty baby. You can’t confess your undying love for me and expect that gets you out of your punishment.”

“I did not!” You argue which earns you a dangerous look.

“You and I both know what the hell you meant,” he says with a threateningly sexy lilt. “You can’t take something like that back at the drop of a hat.”

”I think you’ve punished me enough already,” you bite out defensively, quick to change the subject, because you‘re bitterly aware that he’s right.

“And who are you to decide that?” He smirks, brushing a thumb across your pubic bone. “Thought you were my prisoner.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“No?” Bakugou gets down to his knees, leveling his face with your center. “Actions speak louder than words, angelface.” He kisses your clit, making the same noise he does when he’s trying to bother you while eating, only when he does it on your cunt, all of your nerve endings catch flame and you’re spiraling back to needy senselessness. “Prove to me that you’ve earned my cock by riding my tongue.”

He’s nothing if not altruistic when he’s between your legs. He’s always been generous and dedicated to getting you off, but there’s something different about how he’s moving now. He uses the flat of his tongue and draws languid strokes up your entrance, taking his time while he swirls around your clit. He groans into you, and if the vibrations of his voice weren’t enough to finish you off then and there, his fingers sure as hell do it for you. He pushes them into you, reveling in the feel of your spongy walls hugging him tightly. He traces intricate patterns across your skin, mapping out the places that make you moan the loudest, just to be keen on teasing you for harrowing minutes. He’s going about this agonizing slow, but there’s something about him taking his time, rather than completely ravaging you to prove just how good he is at eating you out, that already has your walls clamping down around his fingers, your back arching, whimpers and pleas tumbling out of your mouth.

It hits you like a brisk wave crashing against the oceanic shoreline. First it was one liquescent sensation, then a pandemonium of your nerves roaring to life. Your thighs close against his head, locking him into place while your fingers twine with his hair. He moans into you, multiplying the excruciating thrill tenfold. You rock against his tongue, savoring this magnificently prolonged ecstatic escapade.

When your nerves cool down and you’re no longer twitching too much, Bakugou offers you a wry grin before licking his lips.

“Look at what a mess you’ve become,” he coos , kissing your shaking thighs, eyes locked on yours. “Was that all because of me, princess.”

“I...don’t think I’ve come so hard in my life.” You breathe, disoriented by the fact. “Oh my god.”

“That so?” He asks as his tongue travels up your thigh.

Bakugou fervently laps up your post-orgasmic juices all the way back up to your drenched cunt. He groans dramatically while his tongue dives back into you. You’re far too sensitive now, and he doesn’t stop—he likes having you squirm around, bucking your hips this was and that, all attempts at finding an escape for his erotic torture futile. Soon he has you spasming out of control for the third time this night, and he rides the waves of your grudging pleasure with delight.

“K-katsukiiii, pleeease!” You’re breathless, hot, and irrational. He has a large hand gripped tightly on your side while three fingers continue to curl inside of you. “I can’t t-take it anymore! It’s t-too much!”

“What? You don’t think you’ve got another one in you?” He keeps your eyes locked on his as his hands push your thighs farther apart, his tongue slowly gliding across your throbbing clit.

You shake your head, practically sputtering your pleas. “I will do whatever you want, so please-“

‘’S that right?” Bakugou grins up at you, smug and triumphant. He pushes you farther up on the table and climbs over you, one hand at the side of your head, holding him up—the other reaching out to grab a coin-sized piece of cake. He presses it against your mouth as he prompts you with an, “ahh.”

“Ah,” you mimic and he pushes the cake into your mouth. The moment you swallow is the moment his lips latch onto yours. You taste your headiness mixing in with the creamy texture of the cake and you can’t help but moan openly into his mouth.

Bakugou ends the kiss too soon, catching you out of breath and wanting more.

“You can be a good girl, can’t you?” His voice is raspy, thick with need, and you know he’s close to falling apart. You want him to. You need him to. He’s broken you, so it’s only just that he breaks sometimes too.

You nod, cautious to see what he’ll be doing next. He’s certainly not taking off his pants, which was the only thing he should be doing.

He moves your arms over his shoulders and leans down low, breath hot on your ear. “You’ll do anything for my cock?”

“Yes,” you sigh and wish more than anything for your hands to be free so tear his shirt off.

“Because you don’t hate me at all. In fact, you fuckin’ love me. You love everything I do to you, but you’re too stubborn to admit it. That right?”

You scowl ahead, teeth clenched. “Yes.”

He draws a line with his tongue against the most sensitive part of your neck, making you shudder, and asks, “yes, what, princess?”

You narrow your eyes. “Yes, I am stubborn.”

With a “teh!” Bakugou kisses your cheek and leads you up so that you’re sitting straight, and guides you both carefully off the table, sweeping you up to carry you so that you don’t step in any of the food you’ve tossed around. He cradles you in his arms, you half-naked, him fully dressed, and smiles sardonically.

“I’m not gonna make you say it, because it is your birthday, but I will have you know that your punishment is not over.”

“You’re kidding me!” You bark back, leaning away to look him in the eyes to see if he’s serious.

“Sorry, baby.” He laughs. “But I had a romantic evening planned out for the two of us and you just had to throw your little bratty tantrums.”

“What do I have to do—?”

“—to get me to fuck you?”

“Yes!”

“You’re going to take a shower, put on that fuckin’ dress, then we’re gonna do this whole dinner thing over again. If you can behave, then maybe—maybe you’ll get my cock. If not—well princess, history tends to repeat itself, but I was hoping we could act like a normal couple just for one night. Thought maybe you’d be into it too, but that’s not what you want at all, is it?”

“I...want to be a normal couple,” you say unenthusiastically. You’re not sure if you meant you wanted to be a normal couple with Bakugou or if you wanted to be free and normal with somebody else entirely.

Bakugou snickers, as if you said something childish. “No you don’t.”

“Because you think I don’t want to be with you.”

“Nah...I know you want to be with me. But you don’t want to be a normal couple. You want this, babe. You want what we have. You want the chaos. You revel in it.”

“Well, I—“ you begin, desperate to find an argument point that doesn’t make you sound dumb. Is he right? Do you enjoy this? Everyday is like a game with him, and it drives you up the fucking wall, but what would you be without it?

“I hope you can keep your self-control,” you retort flippantly, abandoning the argument. “Hope your dick didn’t burst your buttons, Katsuki.” Your gaze drops down to the tent in his pants, then snaps pointedly back at his face.

He’s absolutely unfazed. In fact, he’s more chipper than you’ve ever seen him—like he’s the cat who caught the mouse. “Just for that, I’m gonna join you in the shower. Keep my belt around those wrists and have you watch me wash myself—see all that you’re missing out on.”

You groan, head falling into his chest as he begins walking towards the stairs. “I really do fucking hate you.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, sweetheart,” he says back, a smile in his voice. “Just as long as you know that you’re not the only person here that knows how to play keep away.”

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