#professors and grade school teachers who do this shit should be fired

[warcrimesimulator]

This entire thread is horrifying. I was so lucky that my ochem professor let me take the final the next day after I missed it (and in that case it was my own fault, read the time wrong and thought it was later than it actually was)

#professors and grade school teachers who do this shit should be fired #not even joking there needs to be federal protections in place to prevent this from happening to students and workers #like blatant disability discrimination aside its still fucked for people to be punished for a car accident or for a death in the family

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [3] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

“Y/N-chan!!!”

You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?

“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”

You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?

“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.

“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”

“So you don’t really remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”

He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!

“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.

“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”

Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”

Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.

“Maybe you guys should try it out.”

The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring 

“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.

“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”

“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.

“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”

“Well, I technically did marry you.”

“You were drunk.”

“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”

Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.

There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.

“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’

It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays     apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend     Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.

“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”

Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.

“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after. 

As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)

“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance,  “Are you alright?”

He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy     the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business     and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.

“Yeah.” he roughly replies.

“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”

Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.

Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.

You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.

No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.

“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.

You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.

“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”

You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”

“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”

“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”

“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.

“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”

“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”

The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.

You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.

It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-

“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.

All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.

Oh no.

Oh no, indeed.

There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory;  crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.

“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.

Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.

“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”

You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?

Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.

Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.

“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.

“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.

You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.

“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”

“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”

You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.

“I understand. Thank you for that.”

“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”

You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.

Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”

“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”

You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”

“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”

You blinked.

Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”

You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.

“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”

“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”

“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”

Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.

“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”

You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!

“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”

“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”

You needed to get out of this conversation quick.

“Kento.”

Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.

“What?”

“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”

“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”

“Bye Y/N.”

He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

; @coldbookworm  ; @frankenstein852  ;  @neavil  ; @shephard17895  @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @bleepop ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @pettybroccoli ; @nixxona ; @kiyoo-omi ; @omibaby ; @bokkunto ; @peccobagnaia​ ; @sangwoahbigbussy​ ; 

@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ; @katshuya ; ​@atsuhaya

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #cigarettes and parfaits

[jeonsjiddies]

Show Me | pjm (m)

Summary - Jimin shows you how good he can make you feel.

Word Count - 2146

Pairing -  Jimin x reader

Genre - smut

Warnings - penetrative sex, exhibitionism, voyerism, dirty talk, dom jimin

a/n -  another re-write from a previous fandom. :)

“This project will be worth 30% of your grade.“ 

A normal Wednesday morning in  your government class just got a little more interesting.

“I assigned you partners,“ the professor continued as a collective groan echoed through the classroom. 

“Jeon Jungkook  and Kim Taehyung.” 

Jungkook and Tae high fived.

“Kim Seokjin and Min Yoongi.”  

“Jung Hoseok and Kim Namjoon.” 

Hoseok whooped quietly, grinning at Namjoon

“Y/N and Park Jimin.” She said and you froze, glancing over at the notorious bad boy who raised an eyebrow at you, as one corner of his mouth tilted up.

You couldn’t focus on the rest of the names that she read off because you were too busy panicking. How did you end up paired with Jimin? Was the teacher trying to kill you? You had nothing against the blonde haired risk-taker, quite the opposite. You had a huge crush on Jimin. From his long soft, pushed back locks, to his shimmering brown eyes, to his freakishly large thighs and strong frame. He was terrifyingly attractive, sex on legs, and you were nervous as hell to work with him.

“Please get together with your partners and discuss your strategies for this assignment.”  

Jimin smiled that devilish smile, beckoning you over with one finger. You gathered your books and stood, walking on wobbly legs towards the sinfully gorgeous boy.

“Hey.”  

“Hey,” you tried to sound normal.

“Don’t be scared, princess. I don’t bite - hard,” he grinned, sensing your uneasiness.

He leaned far into your personal space as he said it and you noticed the tangy scent of his cologne as you sucked in a breath. He even smelled like heaven.

“I’m- I’m not,” you said  quietly.

“You seem pretty nervous to me. Listen, just because I’ve got a reputation doesn’t mean I’m some lawless thug who-“ 

“No! I don’t think that!” you interjected, “I don’t have anything against you or your reputation.” 

“Then why are you acting like you could jump up and flee out the nearest exit if I move too fast?” he accused. 

“Social anxiety.”  

“Oh,” he said, The guilt apparent on his features.

“Yeah. So which amendment did you want to start with?” you asked,  getting focused and trying not to sniff him; he smelled so good.

 20 minutes later, you’d both picked out which amendments you’d be showcasing as having a lasting impact on the country, and which ones seemed out of date. The bell rang and you stood up to leave when Jimin placed a hand on your arm, his fingers on your bare skin burned in a delightful way.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I… I'm just so tired of being looked down on for where I come from,” he explained. 

“I could never look down on you, Jimin. You’re too tall,” you joked, earning a rare Jimin genuine smile, “ should we exchange numbers so we can work on the project?“  

“Oh don’t worry y/n, I’ll find you,” He grinned deviously. 

You flushed, watching him saunter down the hallway.

You organized records in alphabetical order a few nights later at your afterschool job. You didn’t hear the doorbell chime, so you nearly peed your pants when a soft, sultry voice whispered in your ear.

“Told you I’d find you.”

You whirled around, coming face to face with Jimin. He was dangerously close to you, if you just used your tiptoes, you could kiss him. Your heart beat like a hummingbirds in your chest.

“Hi,” you breathed out in a whisper.

“Hi,” he whispered back, gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips.

His tongue danced across his own lips, and he started to lean in. The doorbell chimed, breaking the spell you’d both been under and he stepped back quickly.

“So um, maybe tomorrow after school, you could come over and work on the government project?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, sounds good. Can I ride with you though? I’m saving up for a car,”  you looked down. 

“Sure, meet me by the front door after your last lecturel.”

You watched him walk out the door, letting out the breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding.

You anxiously bounced your leg up and down during the last class of the day. You have been on edge all day. You were going to Jimin’s place. Would his roommates be home? Did he have roommates? Would you two be alone? So many of your naughty dreams had taken place in this seemingly imaginary place and this place was about to be real. You knew nothing sexual was actually going to happen, but you were still so nervous. The bell rang and you jumped out of your skin. It was time. You gathered your things, and walked to the front door, where Jimin was waiting for you. Hoseok and Jin  were by his side, all of them laughing.

“Hey y/n,” Jimin smiled. 

“Hey Y/N,” Jin and Hoseok said at the same time, both of them shouting “jinx!”

You giggled and waved hello.  Jimin threw an arm around your shoulders and walked with you to his bike. All eyes were on you, questions swimming through the halls of your university. People whispered to their friends and stared and ashamed.

“Everyone’s looking at us,” you whispered . 

“Good,” he winked and helped you onto the bike. 

You pressed your body close to his, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He sped out of the parking lot, leaving the spectators in the dust. You buried your head into his back, trying not to watch the lines on the road flash by. When he pulled up to the apartment complex, you didn’t let go for a moment.

“You ok?”  

“Yeah, just give me a second. I’m a little woozy.” 

He got off the bike and looked at you for a moment, then picked you up and carried you inside.

“Put me down!” you shriek-laughed. 

“Didn’t want you to stumble since you were ‘woozy’,” he shrugged, plopping you into the couch. 

You hated to admit it, but being held in his lean, strong arms make you feel alive, like adrenaline have been shot straight into your heart. You already missed the warm, safe feeling. You sighed. 

“So… hungry? Thirsty?”  

“I’m okay, thanks,” you smiled and he sat next to you on the couch, far too close but not nearly close enough. 

 As you typed out which amendments were outdated, you were hyper aware of Jimins’ every movement. It was driving you crazy, being so close to him. You both chatted about random topics, as you worked. About halfway through, you stood up to stretch and take a break, as did Jimin. You took a step towards the kitchen for some water, tripping over your backpack, but Jimin’s strong arms darted out to catch you. Your hands on his chest, his arms around you, that’s where it really began. You were being electrocuted by his touch. You both stayed like that, lost in each other’s eyes. 

Jimin moved in slow motion, lips barely grazing yours in feather soft brushes. Gentle, sweet. You were floating on air. Then, the wild fire broke out, Jimin’s lips crashing down on yours with so much need and desire, you could barely keep up. He shoved you against a wall, hands roaming everywhere on your body, lighting you ablaze. You moaned into his mouth, able to stop it. His hands on your body sent you into another level of lust, another level of craving him. He bit down harshly on your neck creating a gasp from you. He blew cold air on it, licking the sore red spot. The stinging turned to tingling, sending shivers down your spine.

“Everyone’s going to see these tomorrow know that you’re mine,” he pulled your hips closer roughly.

“I’ve been watching you, princess. I’ve seen you in those pretty little skirts, completely unaware of all the boys watching you. Unaware of what you’re doing. Teasing. I’ve wanted this from the day I laid eyes on you. So many nights alone I would think of your pretty plump lips wrapped around my cock,” he groaned. 

His words had you soaking.

“Why did you wait?”    

“Didn’t think you’d want someone like me,” he shrugged. 

“Do you know how many nights I’ve touched myself to the thought of you, Jimin? How many times I’ve moaned your name, wishing your hands were the ones touching me? You’re so sexy, so brave. I’ve wanted you inside me for so long,” you whispered hotly 

“You got off thinking about me?”  

You bit your lip, nodding. 

“Show me,” he grinned mischievously. 

You bravely took his hand and had him guide you to his room. You crawled onto his bed as he stood, watching you. Your eyes locked on his, you began undressing. Slowly, you removed everything you were wearing, your hands going to your breasts. You kneaded them, rolling your nipple between your forefinger and thumb. 

“Mmm...” you closed your eyes, lolling your head back, “Fuck, Jimin.” 

Your hands slowly traveled down your body, until they landed by your aching heat. Your fingers danced along your slit, then you pushed one inside yourself, arching your back and groaning as you circled it around your clit. Jimin’s breath hitched as he watched you pleasure yourself for him. You added another finger, pumping it in and out slowly, squirming on Jimin’s bed. You’d done this a thousand times, but with Jimin’s face watching your every move, it was so much more thrilling, it was erotic. You began moving your fingers faster, his name falling from your lips as you got closer, your orgasm crashing over you. 

“Mmm… oh gosh, Jimin,” you moaned loudly, eyes connected with his, and you could hear his heavy breathing. 

You lay there, naked body on full display for Jimin. His eyes had darkened, his deep brown now resembling black. 

“Shit princess, that was so fucking sexy,“ he groaned, stepping towards the bed, “but I can make you feel even better.” 

“Show me,” you purred. 

Jimin sprang into action, flinging his shirt off and unbuckling his jeans faster than you’d ever seen anyone move. Down to his boxers, he crawled on top of you, kissing you rough and deep and so good. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. His boxer-covered erection ground against your dripping core and you groaned. 

“You like that baby? Like how my big fat cock feels against that tight little pussy?” He moaned in your ear. 

“Yes, fuck,” you whimpered, “Jimin, I need you.” 

Jimin grabbed a condom from inside his night stand and slipped it on quickly, aligning himself with your entrance. He slowly pushed in, and oh gosh it stung. He was so big. He lay still for a moment, watching your face for a sign you were ready to move. When you nodded, he slowly pulled out of you, then gently thrust back in. The stinging turned to this amazing, warm, delicious feeling and Jimin started moving faster, whispering dirty things in your ear, telling you how good you felt around him. 

“So beautiful, you take it so good baby,” he encouraged you, but you couldn’t answer. You were a moaning mess underneath him.

Jimin hit every good spot, and knew exactly what he was doing as he pounded into you, and you’d never felt such bliss in your life. The fire deep inside of you was one that you weren’t sure could be quenched. He filled you up so completely, bringing you absolute ecstasy. Jimin was made to fuck, and he was amazing at it. You writhed underneath him, unable to keep still from the insane amounts of pleasure coursing through you. You knew you were close, and so did Jimin, his hand reaching down to draw figure 8’s on your clit.  When your orgasm came, it was like the entire world was shaking. You screamed out his name, back aching into his body, feeling like your soul was leaving yours. You were flying. You felt high. Jimin filled the condom seconds later, panting as his body collapsed on top of yours. He rolled next to you and gathered you in his arms. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Agreed,” you nodded, snuggling into his embrace. 

He smirked, and kissed your cheek. You blushed and hid your face in his neck, making him laugh. 

“How can you be shy after all that?” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled into his skin. 

“Y/N?” He asked quietly.

“Hmmm?” 

“I want you, all the time. I don’t want to have to let you go after this, will you be mine?” he asked, and when you were quiet ( simply because you were in shock) he added “I promise I’ll treat you right, like you deserve.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, smiling at him as you nodded, telling him you would be his. 

“Show me.” 

#bts #bts smut #jimin #jimin smut #park jimin #park jimin smut #jimin x you #jimin x reader #park jimim x you #park jimin x reader #bts jimin #bts park jimin #park jimin x you #collegestudent!jimin #collegestudent!reader

[naughtyneganjdm]

A Compromise - Chapter 1

Summary: After getting expelled from college for a reason Y/N finds unfair, she is in eager need of money. During a fight with her father, her new neighbor across the street, Negan, hears her problem and offers to pay her to spend time with him. It's an offer that she can't deny, leading to a unique relationship between the two.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC)

Warnings: Not much at the start, swearing pretty much. 

Notes: This is going to be a shorter series than the other ones I've done. I was requested to write a story where Negan was the 'sugar daddy' to a character and this is what I've come up with. I hope this will be okay with what was requested of me. As always, Y/N means your name or if you just want to put in a random name, do that instead. Thanks for reading.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834154/chapters/68143372

“You know, I find this a bit counterproductive,” Y/N followed her father out of their home toward the front yard. She was desperate to have a serious conversation with her father who was eager to avoid the conflict. “You would think after what happened to me, you would be eager to support me through everything.”

“Y/N, you were expelled from university,” her father reminded her as he headed for the back of his car to pull something out of the trunk. “I’m not just going to hand over money to you so you can enjoy yourself while you are back at home.”

“I’m not here because I wanted to be dad,” Y/N bickered with her father feeling frustrated with his reaction toward her being expelled from college. “You know I’m attempting to make an appeal with the board for what happened.”

“What you did was wrong,” her father retorted with a snort, pushing through some of the items that were in the trunk of his car. “I’m not changing my mind about this. You need to find yourself a job if you want money. You’re not getting any handouts after what you did.”

“Dad, you have to acknowledge that this is a situation where I think you should be a little bit more understanding. I went to my professor to ask for help because I was having trouble understanding why I was getting the grades I was getting. I knew I was doing everything right,” Y/N reminded her father of the story that she had told him about what started the events to her being expelled from college. “For someone who has a daughter, I would think you would be furious to know that he told me he would give me a better grade if I did sexual favors for him.”

“You kicked him in the balls sweetheart,” her father blurt out with an irritated sound, lifting up enough to meet his daughter’s desperate expression.

The sound of a muted laugh filled the air and it caught the attention of Y/N who looked across the street to see the new neighbor washing his car. For a moment her eyes lingered when her eyes connected with the hazel eyes of the stranger she had yet to meet. It was clear he had managed to hear her discussion with her father and found it amusing. While she wanted to be angry that he was being nosey in listening in on their discussion, she found herself staring. His dark hair was slicked back from being wet. When he noticed her staring at him, he winked and reached up to brush his fingers over the side of his stubble covered cheek before going back to washing his car.

A warmth pressed in over her face when she realized she had been caught staring at him. His white t-shirt was damp against his slender form and she couldn’t help, but survey over his long, lengthy legs. With focusing on school, it really had been so long since she had gotten to enjoy the touch of a man and she could tell that with the way the sight of their new neighbor made her feel. He was stunning and it was hard not to stare.

“As I said, I’m not changing my mind,” her father interrupted her focus and she had to shake her head to pull her attention away from the handsome older stranger across the street. “You could have handled things so much better.”

“You would think you wouldn’t be so misogynistic about this dad. He was forcing himself on me and I kicked him to defend myself,” she fought back with her father, still having a hard time understanding why her parents were so defiant against helping her. The memory was still fresh in her mind and she realized it was probably not good for her to be lusting over her new neighbor when she was thinking about the situation.  “I thought you would be proud of me for being able to fight him off.”

“Sure, if that’s where you stopped,” her father grumbled, finally finding the tool he was looking for before closing the trunk. The way her father folded his arms out in front of his chest frustrated her. “If you would have stopped there, I could have helped fight this for you.”  

“You act like what I did was a bad thing,” she rolled her eyes and slumped down, her eyes glancing back across the street to get a look at the neighbor who seemed to be very casually washing his car and she wondered if he was purposely being that way to listen in on their fight.

“You shattered the windows of his car and set the inside on fire. I think that’s a pretty bad thing,” her father snapped back and she heard the cough that came from across the street. It was hard not to make a comment as she looked back to see him smirking. It was obvious he was biting down on his cheeks hard to make sure he didn’t laugh and it drew attention to his dimples. If she wasn’t getting annoyed with him, she might have found it quite charming, but at the moment she found him to be a nosey asshole. “There is a reason you were expelled sweetheart.”

“Okay, first of all...if I did do that, I had every right to,” she explained with a shrug of her shoulders. “I went to the dean about what happened and of course he was a sexist piece of shit that refused to believe what happened. The old man told me that there was no proof that what I said happened was true.”

“And you could have fought that without going to those extremes,” her father raised his voice and she found herself embarrassed knowing that their new neighbor across the street likely was hearing everything. “They have video proof of you setting the fire in the teacher’s parking lot. I don’t know how you think that you will be able to appeal this.”

“Allegedly,” she shrugged her shoulders and caught the glare her father gave her. “We’ll see if they can provide the video of that when the time comes.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” her father jeered and she simply shrugged. She had devised a plan as to how to deal with that, but she still needed the money to make sure that she had a backup in case her original plan failed. “There is only so much someone can do to help you sweetheart.”

“He tried to rape me dad,” she fought back with an exasperated sound. “First he tried to manipulate me. He wanted me to do sexual acts on him before even considering helping me with my grade.”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” her father countered with an empathetic sigh. “You were doing so good and then you just, did this. I can’t hand money over to you to just do whatever you want because then it would show I was supporting what you have done. After putting in all the hard work you did during high school and the first few years of college, I can’t believe you let it get to this.”

“Would you be acting this way if I was a male?” she pressed, catching the way that her father rolled his eyes. “I think things are this way because I’m a female. I think you just expected me to lie down and take it instead of defending myself.”

“You know that’s not true,” her father argued, clasping the tool tightly at his side. “The problem comes in that there is no proof to what you have said and there is proof that you did what you did to his car.”

“Allegedly,” she repeated her earlier comment and watched her father throw his hands up in a frustrated manner. “In order for me to be able to fight this or do anything, I need money. You were giving me money at school. I find it ridiculous that you refuse to give me that same money until I can figure it out.”

“We were attempting to make sure you were living life easily while you were studying so you could focus on your schoolwork,” her father stated with an exhausted breath, “you’re no longer doing your studies, so we’re no longer going to provide that money for you. If you want money, you need to get a job. I really believed in you. I didn’t want you to have to go through the pressures of having a job while also having to study. I wanted you to put all of your time into your schoolwork and that’s why I was eager to help you. Now, you need that job.”

“This is ridiculous,” she snorted, throwing her hands down at her sides. “You would think you would want to support me through this.”

“I support you, but I support you getting a job,” her father almost mocked her. Accepting defeat, she realized she was losing this battle and knew her father wasn’t breaking. She had been fighting with him for almost an hour and found herself overwhelmed that he wasn’t budging. “Be like everyone else. You’re an adult now, you don’t need us babying you.”

“I’m going to be able to go back to school dad and you are going to feel ridiculous that you didn’t help me through this,” Y/N insisted knowing that she was going to fight the school’s decision to expel her after what she went through.

“Great and I will be so proud of you when you are back in school. If that ever did happen, which is highly unlikely…we may reconsider the whole money thing,” her father stammered, eager to get back to the job he was working on before she started bickering with him. “Until then, I suggest you get a job.”

“Any job I can get here will be something that I can’t put my full potential into,” she claimed and her father shrugged dramatically again. “After all the work I’ve done with my education, you just want me to take some kind of low paying job?”

“A job is a job Y/N, you need to learn to be levelheaded about life,” her father maintained looking toward the house again, “It will be good for you to get a job. You’ll learn that everything is not going to be handed to you and the value of things become more important to you when you earn them yourself.”

“You’re teaching me a lesson now? When I’ve just gone through what I’ve gone through,” she was flustered with his response and found herself angry that he was so against understanding her situation. “I’m better than any job I’ll be able to find here dad.”

“A little humility wouldn’t hurt,” her father reached out to squeeze her shoulder and nodded back toward the house. “Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to head back and finish what I was doing.”

“Without a care in the world as to how I’m going to fix all of this,” she sarcastically replied watching her father roll his eyes before heading back inside.

An overwhelming frustration filled her entire body and she found herself in rage over what happened. She questioned if her family even believed her when she told them that her professor tried to assault her. It was something that truly happened and she hated that because she reacted ‘badly’ to the whole thing that people were holding everything against her. So what if there was proof that she may have done that to her professor’s car? Her parents should have believed her when she told them she was assaulted. They should have been just as enraged as she was. Instead, they believed she deserved to be expelled for what had happened and that hurt.

In her opinion, the professor was lucky that she didn’t do more to him. Kicking him in the balls and destroying his car was the least of his worries compared to what she wanted to do to him. After working as hard as she did in school, she was blown away that it all came to an end because of something like this.

Resting back against the car, she folded her arms in front of her chest and lifted her gaze to see the stranger that had been listening in still washing his car. He was clearly finishing up and she could tell he definitely wasn’t shy. When he noticed her staring at him, his eyes hooked on hers and a ridiculously charming smile gradually cracked in over his lips.

Standing up straighter, she watched him continue to dry his mustang off with the towel he was using before raising up. He tossed the towel aside and she felt her throat go dry. A chill pressed in over her spine when she saw the man reach for the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly to reveal his toned abdomen. The movement drew attention to the dark hair that was over his lower torso and it drew more attention to the lines in his body.

The cocky smirk over his features made her realize that he caught onto the way she was gawking at him and she lowered her gaze feeling embarrassed that she had been caught eyeing him over like that. It’s not like she was even subtle about it. She was full on staring and it was clear that the older man had caught on to it.

Lifting her head again, she saw him slowly lowering the material of his white t-shirt back down his body and she cleared her throat when he lifted his other hand to wave. His fingers wiggled in almost a teasing way and she waved back in what she assumed to be an awkward motion. Cussing to herself, she lowered her head again and headed back toward the house.

What an awful way to be introduced to the new neighbor that had clearly moved in while she was away at school. Of course, he had to be ridiculously good looking. Not only did he hear all of her dirty laundry that was going on in her life, but he also obviously picked up on the fact that she found him very attractive in that moment with her ogling him at the time.

Trying to avoid looking in that direction again, she went back into her home and headed into the kitchen to drop down at the table. Her mind was still lingering on the new neighbor when her mother moved into the room. When her mother spotted her, she could see that a sense of tension filled her mother’s body. Obviously, her father had warned her mother about her previous fight with him and her mother likely assumed that she would be fighting with her too. There was no sense in it though because once her father said something, it was final. Even if her mother wanted to give her money, her father would have never agreed to it.

“Hi…honey,” her mother went to the refrigerator to find something to prepare for dinner. Y/N stayed silent, not sure of what to even say to her mother. She was angry at both of her parents, but it was no use in trying to get them on her side of everything. They had their chance and they proved to her what they thought about everything that happened.

“Hey mom,” she thought about the new neighbor and cleared her throat. It was the only thing that had been able to pull her attention away from her anger toward her professor and school in quite some time. It was an inappropriate thought after all the things she had been through, but she was charmed by the sight of him and wanted to know more about him. “When did our neighbors across the street move out?”

“About a month ago,” her mother let out a relieved sound when she realized that Y/N wasn’t about to fight with her about money like she had clearly expected her to. “Why do you ask?”

“The new neighbor was out and he seems…odd,” Y/N answered honestly and her mother let out a dramatic sound. “What?”

“Are you talking about Mr. Smith?” her mother questioned and Y/N dramatically threw her hands up in the air. How would she know what the hell his name was? She just knew him as the nosy, good looking neighbor across the street. “Negan. It’s only him there. We had him over for dinner the first week he moved in.”

“Oh?” Y/N’s eyebrow perked up at that information. “Negan Smith. That’s quite the name.”

“Be nice dear,” her mother took notice of her sarcasm and Y/N rolled her eyes. “He’s a lovely man. His story is really sad actually.”

“Sad?” she repeated her mother’s words thinking about the handsome stranger across the street.

“Yeah, he moved because his wife died of pancreatic cancer,” her mother thought back to when they had invited Negan over for dinner to get to know their new neighbor. “The poor guy still wears his wedding ring even though she’s gone. He up and left everything he knew and had to start over new because being where he was just reminded him of her.”

“So, it was like an episode of Oprah while he was here?” Y/N almost joked and her mother gave her an angered expression. Dramatically throwing her hands in the air, she realized that her mother took his story serious and Y/N smirked. “I’m surprised he was so open with you about everything. You don’t usually open up like that to someone you just met.”

“I made the mistake of asking about his wife when I saw his wedding ring,” her mother recalled their conversation and shook her head. “He’s a very nice man. Works at the local high school.”

“Oh, I see,” she took in the details her mother had given her. He worked at the high school? Not exactly what she would have imagined the mustang driving stranger to be…a teacher. “And you like him?”

“He seems nice,” her mother reacted before heading back to start working on dinner again. “Did you say hello to him?”

“In a way,” Y/N grumbled thinking about him listening in on her conversation with her father. Sure, she had waved at him in probably a ridiculous fashion that would leave him more so amused with her rather than finding her appealing in any way. It was embarrassing just thinking about their interaction moments before. “Just not officially yet.”

“Well be friendly the next time you see him,” her mother ordered making Y/N groan at her mother’s comment. “With all the negative that has gone on in his life, the best thing we can do is be polite to that man. He needs it.”

“I’ll do my best mother,” she snorted, letting out a heavy breath. Maybe it was for the best to avoid the new neighbor. While she found him to be…interesting, she doubted he would want to know her any further than he had learned about her today. Hearing what she did to her professor probably scared him off and that was that. It was best to just get him off her mind, if she could.

----

Staring out at the flashing lights before her, Y/N swallowed down hard and let out a disappointed sound. Unfortunately, she had to swallow her pride and had to get a job. One of her friends let her know about a job that was available at a local club doing waitressing at night. It had pretty good tips and it would work with her schedule so she could do things during the earlier part of the day to work toward her goals with school. Her friend told her that she could pretty much guarantee her a position there as long as she came down and filled out an application. She would get to meet the owner and would likely be able to start working immediately the next day.

Pushing through the crowd, she knew that she would have to get used to the loud music and the overabundance of people surrounding her like this. If this was the best job she could get on a short notice that paid decently then she would have to take it. Even if this made her feel…cheap?

Waiting for a while at the bar, she almost felt overwhelmed at the idea of working here. She caught a glimpse at what she would be wearing every single night and it was obvious why they made good tips. Wearing short skirts and low V-neck tops would definitely draw a certain crowd and she realized that. At the end of the day, she just hoped she would only have to do it for a little while before getting where she wanted to be.

Usually her nights were very quiet and spent studying. She really buried herself into her work when she was at the university, so these kinds of places were rare for her. Sure, she had been to a few of them, but she was more of a person that liked to be to herself away from people. The most important thing to her was her future, so even the idea of working here kind of depressed her. It was completely against who she was.

After meeting the owner of the club, it was pretty clear that she would be getting the job after she filled out the paperwork which they left her to do. It was hard to get done with the loud music filling the air around her and the constant elbows that continued to bump into her around the surrounded bar. When she was almost done with filling everything out, she saw a shot being placed beside her on the bar and she lifted her head to see the bartender staring out at her with a smirk.

“What is this? A welcome to the team shot?” she took a look at it and gave them a confused look.

“Tall, dark and handsome over there ordered it for you,” the bartender nodded toward the other side of the bar and her eyes surveyed the bar until they landed on a familiar face. That new neighbor she had spotted across the street was sitting at the bar talking to another woman and she let out a tense breath.

“What is it?” Y/N looked to the drink and grabbed a hold of the shot glass, looking over the drink.

“It’s a blowjob,” the bartender answered and Y/N let out a disgusted breath realizing that it was likely a joke referring to what he had heard with her fight with her father previously. “It’s Kahlua, Irish Cream and whipped cream on top.”

“I see,” she smirked not knowing if she should take the drink over there to throw it in his face or not. Getting down from her seat after grabbing the shot, she moved over toward the end of the bar where he was at and boldly stepped between him and the woman he was talking to.

“Excuse me,” the woman let out an irritated breath behind her and Y/N held her hand up to silence her. “We were having a discussion.”

“Not anymore you’re not,” Y/N looked over her shoulder at the other woman, her eyes narrowing in an angry stare. It took a minute before the woman backed down and stepped back. An amused laugh fell from her neighbor’s lips and she brought her attention back to him when the woman he was with walked away. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’d like to think I’m more of a smartass, but that works too,” he reached for his beer and brought the bottle to his lips to take a long swig of it. “You know, that was my date.”

“Negan, right?” she confirmed his name while completely ignoring his comment. His thick eyebrows perked up. He nodded once before taking another large swallow of his drink. “What is this?”

“It’s a shot,” Negan answered, his eyes looking down at what he ordered for her. “You looked stressed, I thought you could use it.”

“Do you think you’re funny?” she looked toward the drink and set it on the bar before them.

“Kinda, yeah,” Negan snorted, a wolfish smile expanding over his good-looking features. It was clear he was cocky and she didn’t know whether she was attracted to him or just ridiculously angry at him. “I’m just fucking with you. Obviously, I heard your discussion with your father.”

“And what? You think I’m ridiculous too for what I did?” she snapped at him and Negan’s eyebrow arched up, almost amused with her question. “I know you heard what I did.”

“Nah, I think it was fucking awesome what you did,” Negan replied almost immediately and he shrugged his shoulders. “Personally, I think any man that tries to force themselves on a woman should be castrated. I think what you did to the guy was nice in comparison to what I would have done to him.”

“You’re the first person to think that,” she admitted and Negan frowned. She agreed with him. She wanted to do so much worse to the professor, so the fact he thought it was awesome what she had done intrigued her. “Everyone thinks I went too far.”

“Well I think you’re a badass,” Negan informed her with a wink and he set his beer back down on the bar top. “Your parents don’t know what they are talking about. You’re special. I can tell.”

“Oh yeah?” she was almost amused with his comment. It was a little cheesy, yet her had her hooked in that moment. “Why did you really buy me this?”

“Truthfully, I was thinking of the best way to get you over here to talk to me,” he confessed and she felt her heart skip a beat at what he said.  

“So you decided to piss me off?” she snapped at him and a small laugh escaped his throat.

“Well, you’re here…aren’t you?” Negan pointed out with a wiggle of his eyebrow, his deep voice rasp and it caused her to shudder at just the sound of it. “So, it worked.”

“What? You weren’t enjoying your date?” Y/N looked over her shoulder to survey the area where the woman that he was with had gone off to.

“You know you move to a new place and people are trying to hook you up with someone they know because they think you would just make the most perfect couple,” Negan mocked what he had clearly heard from those that he had just met after moving into the subdivision. “She was boring. You are far more interesting.”

“How did you know that I was old enough to have that?” she looked down at the drink and his eyes were locked on hers.

“Are you?” he slurred, his tongue drawing a wet line over his bottom lip.

“Does it matter?” she replied, trying to read his expression. “How old are you?”

“Does it matter?” he repeated her previous statement and it made her smile. “Older than you.”

“Obviously,” she grunted, reaching out to trace her fingers over the shot glass. The salt and pepper coloring of his short beard told her he was likely much older than her, but she didn’t care. Taking a moment to think things over, she brought the shot glass to her lips. Her eyes were hooked on Negan before she tipped her head back and quickly took the drink back.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” Negan reminded her, biting into his bottom lip while his head almost bobbed in an arrogant fashion.

“What? My parents didn’t tell you when you were over for dinner?” she sharply responded and Negan grinned at her sassy response. “I’m sure you know it.”

“Even if I did, we’ve never really had a formal introduction,” Negan leaned forward in his chair, his face extraordinarily close to hers making a shuddering breath fall from her lips. “I like to make a good first impression. Obviously, I’m Negan, but you already know that.”

“Y/N,” she almost whispered and Negan let out an amused sound. He pulled back, holding his hand out for hers. Expecting him to go for a handshake, she gave him her hand to which he gradually pulled her hand up to deposit a soft kiss over the back of her hand. It caused her to tremor in response while his bright hazel eyes were hooked on her eyes.

“What are you doing here tonight Y/N?” Negan nodded toward the area she was in originally.

“Getting a job,” she frowned, almost embarrassed to admit it. “As you know, I’m kind of having some money problems. In order to figure things out with school, I kind of need money to support myself.”

“Hmmm…” Negan lowered his head, his free hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “You know, I was thinking about that. I think I may have an option for you if you are interested. It would help you with the whole money situation.”

“Oh?” she pulled her hand slowly away from Negan and he nodded. “That’s not creepy.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Negan chuckled, his nose wrinkling as he stared out at her. “Don’t you want to hear it first?”

“Not really,” she honestly answered, seeing the shocked expression fall upon his handsome features. “I don’t need someone else’s help that I don’t even know.”

“Well that’s a shame,” he grumbled tilting his head to the side and Y/N let out an overwhelmed sound. “As someone who agrees with what you were saying earlier, I thought you might like having my help, but if you want to work here…I give it to you. That’s dedication.”

“Well it was nice to meet you Negan,” she backstepped away from the bar and Negan gave her an amused look. “I’m glad I could save you from your poor date.”

“You’re leaving? Just like that, huh?” Negan muttered and she felt her body completely on fire after her interaction with Negan. “Interesting.”

“Well, I like to make a lasting first impression. Thanks for the drink,” she winked at him and heard the deep chuckle that fell from his throat when she moved away from him.  

Heading back to her paperwork, she attempted to finish it without raising her head to look back up at Negan. While she found Negan completely interesting, she knew that she shouldn’t be getting herself into something else that could potentially be bad for her. She was ridiculously attracted to Negan and she knew it was bad for her.

It took a while for her to finish her paperwork and when she finished, she could see Negan was getting up to leave. Part of her wanted to go after him because there was that intrigue to know what he was going to offer her, but she let her better half keep her where she was seated. Whatever the idea Negan had; it definitely wasn’t going to work for her so it was just better to ignore what had happened tonight. Negan was interesting to her, but she assumed that being around him would be bad news.

Finishing everything she had to, she eagerly left afterwards and headed home. When she got home, she could see that Negan was standing on his porch smoking. Stopping at the bottom of the driveway, she noticed that he was alone and for some reason she couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said to her. Negan’s gaze lifted to hers when he pulled his cigarette from his lips and exhaled a large amount of smoke.

Negan lowered his gaze and went back to smoking showing her that he clearly lost his interest in her after she turned him down at the bar. Damn, maybe she should have just stuck around to hear his offer. The possibilities flooded her mind. Most of the time she would have just blown people off and forgot about them, but Negan was stuck in her mind. Negan was a teacher…what could he possibly have been able to offer her that was better than the waitressing job at the club?

Trying not to focus on it, she forced herself to look away from him. The urge to go talk to him again was there, but she knew better.

Heading back inside, she tried to go to her room and forget her interaction with Negan. She had to start work the next day and she knew it was for the best to get as much rest as she could, but all she could think about was Negan. There was something that left him lingering in her mind and she damned herself for it. He was so damn charming, but she had only just met him. She shouldn’t have been immediately attracted to him like she was.

It was a hard night for her, but she managed to get some rest before heading to work for her first day. Work was harder than she expected it to be. She hated what she had to wear. Multiple times her ass had been grabbed and it was so hard for her not to deck someone when they did it. Her friend tried to tell her that it would be okay because the more relaxed she was, the more tips she would get. Just further into the night, she found herself getting more irritated and she knew that it was likely showing in her attitude toward the customers.

“Hey, you have someone requesting you at table nine,” her friend moved over toward her and handed her over the drink tray that they had made. “Clearly you actually impressed someone tonight. It’s rare someone requests one of us.”

“Really?” Y/N was confused, but accepted the drinks taking them to the table. When her eyes connected with the familiar hazel eyed stare, she let out a frustrated sound and put the drinks on the table. “Negan, what do you want?”

“I just wanted to support you on your first day,” Negan muttered with a bright, arrogant smile and she lowered her head. She was overwhelmed, she was hot and she felt like a mess. Having him be there was embarrassing. She didn’t want him to see her like this. “You look like you’re doing great.”

“Eat me,” she blurt out and Negan snorted with an amused laugh. “I’m falling on my face.”

“It’s your first day, I’m sure it will get better,” Negan reached for one of the drinks she had brought him and she surveyed the area around him knowing that he had gotten two drinks.

“Are you on another date that you need saving from?” she looked around and Negan shook his head, his eyes looking her over and she suddenly felt very bare before him. “You just thirsty?”

“Oh no, that’s for you,” Negan nodded at the drink knowing she was referring to the second drink he had gotten. “Why don’t you take a seat and let me actually talk to you today. I know you’re stubborn and I like that, but I think you should hear me out.”

“I can’t drink on the job,” she responded with a twisted, confused look. “I have a job.”

“Yes, you do,” Negan took a long sip of his drink, letting out a dramatic sigh when he got comfortable in his seat. “But I think you should hear me out.”

“I have to work Negan,” she reminded him and Negan shrugged his shoulders. He reached for his wallet and grabbed some money before handing it over to her. Going to turn on her heel, she took a look at the money to see that he had tipped her two hundred dollars. Debating whether or not she should tell him, she turned on her heel and held the money back out to him. “I don’t think you meant to give me this.”

“Yes, I did…” Negan looked at the money she was trying to return to him. Y/N’s arms lowered at her sides and he arched his eyebrow in a curious response. “Is that not a good enough tip? I can give you more…”

“Wait a minute, hold on,” she held her hands up in the air seeing Negan reaching for his wallet to open it up again. “You’re a schoolteacher, you can’t afford to tip me like this.”

“Ooo, someone is very assuming…aren’t they?” Negan rumbled, his deep voice filling the space around them and she swallowed down hard. “Sit down.”

Looking back toward the bar, she knew that they were busy, but she did as he told her and pulled the seat out to sit across from him, “See, I happen to be looking for someone to give me company and you are looking to get money fast…correct?”

“Yeah?” she gave him an odd expression while he reached out to slide her drink in closer to her. “What’s your point?”

“I would like you to spend some time with me,” Negan informed her, his fingers tracing over the table while he spoke. “And for doing that, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll buy you whatever you want. You can have two hundred dollars for every day you spend with me.”

“You want to pay me to spend time with you?” she stammered and Negan nodded, his hazel eyes hooked on hers. His offer confused her more than it actually answered her questions. “Why?”

“Why not?” Negan immediately answered and she reached for the drink he had bought for her to take a long gulp of it. The rate at which she drank it amused Negan and he reached for his to take another sip. “So?”

“You know I’m not a hooker, right?” she pointed out thinking about the idea of what he was saying to her. Her outburst made him laugh and he almost choked on his drink when she said what she did. “I’m sure there are people around here that would be willing to sleep with you for money Negan.”

“Did I say I wanted you to sleep with me? I’m pretty sure I just said I wanted you to spend time with me,” Negan feigned being offended, placing his large hand over the center of his chest. “Plus, look at me. Do I really look like the kind of guy that needs to pay someone to have sex with them?”

“Oh, look at you…Mr. Arrogant,” she scoffed and Negan leaned in closer to the table closing the distance between them. Negan reached out to place his hand over hers and he swiped his fingers delicately over the back of her hand causing her to shudder. Her eyes slammed shut and she bit into her bottom lip while having the rough caress of his fingertips over the back of her hand. Forcing herself to focus, she opened her eyes again to see he was proud of himself with the way she was reacting to his touch alone.

“And you like it,” Negan simply muttered, his eyes hooked on her lips as she swallowed down hard. “You can still pretend with your parents that you have this job so they won’t question where you are getting the money.”

“Where are you getting all this money?” she looked down at the two hundred dollars she had set on the table beside the drink he had gotten for her.

“I teach because I want to teach sweetheart. I like doing it,” Negan answered, letting out a heavy exhale as he shifted in his seat.

“What are the rules?” she spoke up after taking a moment to think and Negan seemed impressed that she asked him that. “I spend time with you obviously, but there has to be something with it. Are we having sex?”

“Only if you want to. We don’t have to,” Negan replied with a simple sigh, his dimples sucking in when he smiled brightly.

“So, if I didn’t want to have sex with you?” she retorted finding it hard to believe that he was willing to have her around and pay her without her putting out for him.

“Then I would be perfectly okay with it,” Negan responded, sliding his hand further up her arm and she lowered her gaze to look at his large fingers tracing over her flesh. “We don’t have to have sex. I will never force anything on you.”

“So, if I agree, what am I agreeing to?” she heard someone calling out her name at the bar, but her attention was fully on Negan as his smile expanded.

“You have to agree to be mine. You can’t date anyone. You can’t have sex with anyone else,” Negan breathed and she felt her pulse leap inside of her chest while she listened to him. “And you’ll have to listen to me, within reason.”

“What? Like a slave?” she blurt out and Negan rolled his eyes before shaking his head. “Then what?”

“Anything I have you doing, you’ll want to be doing,” Negan assured her, his Adam’s apple bouncing inside of his throat while he stared out at her. “And if you don’t want to be doing it, something tells me you will like it after you are done.”

“So, I’d be your submissive?” she thought about what he was saying and he shrugged his shoulders. The idea of that actually turned her on and she couldn’t believe that it actually did. Picturing Negan being her dominant sexually caused a warmth to spread throughout her entire body. “Is this where I’m supposed to agree to everything and you take me to your red room?”

“God,” Negan groaned, lowering his head and letting out a loud laugh. “No. Not at all. You’ve watched too many movies…and bad ones at that.”

“How long does the offer last?” she thought about what he was offering her and she could see the amused look in his eyes. Maybe if she thought it over and did this a few more days, she would be able to determine what she really wanted.

“Just tonight,” Negan muttered with a sense of arrogance in his tone. “It lasts while I’m right here in front of you. After I leave, the offer is gone.”

“Does that mean we are just going to leave and have sex?” she blurt out and Negan shook his head. “Why not?”

“I told you that we would only do it if you wanted to,” he reminded her and she cleared her throat, feeling her throat go dry.

“What if I wanted to do it?” she slurred and a proud sound fell from Negan’s throat when she was clearly admitting that she wanted to potentially sleep with him.

“Nah sweetheart. You may want to do it immediately, but that’s my decision to make,” Negan denied her of that, his voice getting deeper when he leaned in closer to her. “By the time we have sex, if we have sex…you’re going to want it so entirely bad that you’ll be begging me for it. You’ll have to know for certain that I’m what you want. That you’ve never wanted something more in your entire life.”

“That’s bold to think that I would want sex that badly from you,” she quietly spoke knowing that they were close enough to hear each other. “You really think you’re that good?”

“I don’t think, I know,” Negan insisted with a firm nod, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip in a seductive sweep. “I will make you my princess. You will get everything you want and then some. I will pamper you like you deserve to be pampered.”

“There are people out there that would likely agree to this without being paid Negan,” she gulped thinking about the offer he was putting out. There was a warmth pooling at her core from his responses to her. Something like this she would have assumed would usually had turned her off, but she found Negan very appealing. His words had her body shaking and she didn’t know if she could jump right into this. “As you said, you aren’t the kind of man hurting for sex.”

“I don’t want other people, I want you,” Negan responded, reaching out to drag his thumb over her bottom lip. It caused her to let a whimper and a cocky smile expanded over his handsome features. It was clear he had her eating out of the palm of his hand without even trying that hard. “I like the fire in you.”

“You might get burned,” she leaned in closer to him when she felt the warmth of his breath over her face.

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” Negan winked teasing the pad of his thumb back and forth over her flesh. It caused her to tremor and he knew that she was definitely considering what he was saying. “So, what do you say?”

“You’ll never force anything on me?” she confirmed and Negan immediately nodded. “If I’m uncomfortable…”

“Then we can stop this at any time,” Negan promised, “I’m not going to keep someone around who doesn’t want to be around. I saw the way you looked at me though. From the first moment you laid eyes on me, I could see it in the way you breathed that you wanted me. With the way your eyes are dilated right now I know I have you ridiculously turned on. You’re interested and you’re definitely attracted to me. So, I know I wouldn’t be forcing anything on you.”

“You’re that confident?” she leaned in closer to him, pressing a soft kiss over the pad of his thumb and she watched him pull his hand slowly away from her.

“What’s your answer Y/N?” Negan urged her to answer him about his offer.

“When would we start?” she heard someone calling her name again from the bar sounding angrier than they were before.

“Right now,” Negan slowly stood from the table and reached his hand out to her. “If you want to do this, come with me.”

“But I’m working,” she reminded him, looking back over her shoulder to see her boss waving her on angrily from where he was.

“And? You don’t need this job if you agree to what I’m offering you,” Negan wiggled his fingers, trying to persuade her to come with him. “This is your last chance.”

Taking a moment to think about everything, she lowered her head and felt goosebumps pressing in over her arms. There was something strangely intriguing about the mystery of Negan, but she found herself out of breath because of everything that had happened. Never before had she truly wanted someone as bad as she did Negan.

“Take a leap of faith my dear,” Negan kept his eyes hooked on hers. Reaching for Negan’s hand she felt him firmly grab her hand in his and he pulled her up from the table to him. A gasp fell from her lips when she fell in against his chest and reached up to place her free palm over the center of it. His face was incredibly close to hers and she found herself wanting to kiss him, but he kept his distance just enough as if to tease her. “Good choice.”

Negan hooked his fingers with hers and led her through the crowded club and outside. This was usually completely against everything she would normally do, but she was charmed by Negan. His offer had perked her interest and when she followed him to the parking lot she wondered if she was crazy for doing this.

Noticing that Negan was leading her to a motorcycle, she let out a tense breath and felt her body locking up when he reached for one of the helmets he had to offer it to her, “Should I be worried?”

“As long as you hold tightly to me, everything should be fine,” Negan winked, getting on the bike motioning her to get on behind him. Carefully getting onto the motorcycle, she did as Negan instructed and wrapped her arms firmly around his torso.

“Is this where you kidnap me and people will never find me?” she joked, but still found herself almost worried knowing that this was a bit strange. Negan was still a stranger to her and even though he was charming, she knew next to nothing about him.

“I was actually thinking of getting to know you first darlin’ before kidnapping you,” Negan snickered, glancing over his shoulder at her as she leaned in closer to him when he started up the motorcycle.

“God,” she rolled her eyes taking notice that he was screwing with her. “I have valid fears.”

“Sure you do, but you’re just going to have to trust me,” Negan assured her with an amused breath. “We’ll start things off simple. I promise.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976​​​  @nubbinrobin​​​ @oreostars​​  @fuckthis-and-fuckthat​​​ @jennydehavilland​​​ @felicity291​​ @de-gabyconamor​​ @ibelongtonegan​​​ @smallsadjellyfish​​ @labyrinthofheartagrams​​  @msjamesmarch​​ @thebeautysurrounds​​ @hotfornegan​​ @redmercysugar​​ @caprithebunny​​ @iluvneganandjamie​​ @ninamarietwd​​ @tuttifuckinfruitty​​ @emoryhemsworth​​ @a-girl-interupted​​ @akumune​​ @stoneyggirl​​  (just tagged my normal tags, if you don’t want it, I apologize)

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan #negan x reader #Negan fanfiction #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #my writing

[cafedanslanuit]

would it be ok to ask for hcs of the main 6 + vaderwood and how they would react to their normally energetic and funny mc being a little off and making some self-deprecating jokes (like a little too dark to be funny) as a way of coping and hiding their anxiety/depression? if not thats ok im just in a similar mood today.

self-deprecating jokes are my thing too, tbh. hope you’re feeling better! Also, I couldn’t picture Vandy for this particular hc, I’m sorry :c

Yoosung

This boy honestly loves how fun you are. He will always laugh with you and you don’t tease him that much (Saeyoung does that for you)

One day, when he comes home from his job at the vet, he finds you calling for pizza. He lets you finish the call and then you look up.

“Hey, welcome back! I accidentally left the stove on for too long and messed up dinner” you casually said, with a small giggle. “So I called Pizza Hut, hope it’s okay”.

“It’s okay!” he says. “I love pizza”

“I know, me too” you smile. You stand up and stretch your arms. “Okay, so I’ll take a shower before it gets here. How the fuck did I forget the stove on, I don’t know” you laugh. “I swear to God I would totally leave me at this point”.

Yoosung says nothing, shocked. He watches you walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower. He knows you like to joke around, but that joke had been pretty specific. Leave you? Why would he leave you? Over some burnt food?!

He waits until you come out, wrapped in a towel and hands you a cup of your favourite tea. You smile weakly.

“An award for my awful cooking?” you tease him.

“Hey! It’s just food! And you solved it. I don’t really care, MC, please let it go”. He sees your lips tremble a little bit. “Are you okay?”

You had a really rough day at work. You tell him all about it while sipping on the tea and he silently listens to you, nodding at the right times. The pizza finally arrives and he puts on your favourite show so you both can watch it. When you go to bed, he makes sure to give you extra cuddles, so you never have to feel any more pressure on yourself.

Zen

Honestly, he’s not the best at comedy. But he really likes how much you can make yourself laugh with your own jokes.

He comes home and hands you his tablet. You arch an eyebrow and look at him from the couch. He sits beside you and asks you to press play. You nod and comply his request.

It’s a video from rehearsal. He’s singing at he’s actually hitting all the notes just right. You smile softly, watching the video in silence. When it’s over, you turn and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re amazing, babe. You did the song soooo good! How can you be so talented?”

“Thank you, babe. And I don’t know, can’t help it. I’m just talented.” he shrugs, with a confident smile.

“Well, someone has to be” you responded quickly. His smiled faltered and he looked at you, confused.

“What are you talking about? You are talented too. I’ve seen your drawings, those building projects you have been working on. They’re masterpieces, MC, I love them and–”

“I didn’t get the job, Zen” you quickly answer, not looking at him. “They didn’t like those ‘masterpieces’” you added, making the colons signs with his fingers.

Oh. So they had already sent you the email.

Zen would put the tablet aside and hold you on the couch. Whisper over and over again how talented you truly are and how they were in the wrong for not noticing it.

“If they can’t see how brilliant you are, why would you want to work for them?” he asked. “I’ve been rejected more times that I can count. I know how you feel. And you know what makes me feel better?”

You look at him and shake your head.

Ten minutes later, you’re both riding on his motorcycle, feeling the air against your face. you hug him tighter and smile.

Jaehee

Jaehee’s not one for jokes. But she does enjoy the occasional laugh she has with you. You make tons of jokes, but, unlike Saeyoung, you know when to stop

“Babyyyyyyyy, I’m a mess!” you complained, stretching on your bed. Both of you were working on your laptops, when suddenly you put yours aside.

“C’mon. Help me, Excel Goddess! Can’t seem to make this thing to work and I need to show it to my boss tomorrow” you asked. Jaehee smiled softly, put her laptop aside and grabbed yours. She started typing formulas, fixing your work.

“You’re so good to me, baby. Thank youuuu. That’s why you’re the smart one here”. Jaehee just smiled, continuing her work.

“They should have taught me Excel in school instead of sports. Did anyone of my class turn out to be an athlete? No one. Are we struggling to get a job because we don’t know shit about Excel? We are”.

“Maybe that’s why I’m failing. Maybe that’s why I had to settle with this shitty job, because I can’t comprehend the monster that in Microsoft Excel. Maybe that’s also why my Computer Science teacher hated me at school” you said dramatically. Jaehee chuckled softly.

“Maybe that’s why my whole life is a mess right now. Maybe that’s why I can’t find joy in the things I do anymore, maybe that’s why my father left us. Because I’m a shitty person who can’t do Excel and can’t get a decent job”.

She stopped typing and looked over at you.

“MC. What are you saying?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m tired. Don’t think about it too much”

“I-… Do you want me to talk to Mr. Han? Maybe there’s a position and… I know C&R takes most of my time but an entry level job may be good– at least for your resumé and–”

“I’m fine. Don’t think about it, baby” you dismissed, but Jaehee grabbed your hand.

“Can’t you really find joy anymore?” she asked. You sighed.

“Happens to me when the cold weather beggins. Will go away in a couple of weeks” you shrugged. Jaehee squeezed your hand.

“Let me know if I can do anything to help you… well, find joy again”.

“You do help!” you assured her. “I can find bits of joy here” you smiled and gave her a small kiss. She smiled and kissed you back.

Jumin

Jumin doesn’t understand most of your jokes. Most of the times, you have to explain them to him. He doesn’t mind, but it’s only because he really enjoys watching you laugh at your own jokes. The sight of you giggling it’s enough to light up any day.

That day, you decided to visit him during lunch. Which wasn’t a rare occurrence, you tried to visit him at least once a week, making sure with Jaehee you wouldn’t be interrupting.

“Good afternoon, my love. Didn’t expect you here” he greeted you, giving your cheek a tender kiss when you approached him. You gave him the bento you had prepared and sat in front of him, on the other side of his desk.

“I know. I just thought your darling, loving wife might make an appearence. I do have to keep those heiresses away from you” you laughed. He smiled softly and opened his bento. “Don’t want them making you change your mind about marrying some poor girl who couldn’t even afford university by herself”.

Jumin arched his eyebrow while eating his lunch. “Is there a problem with your classes? I thought you were excited about finally attending university, even if most of the classes are online for security reasons. Are the professors not competent enough? Are they not grading you fairly?”

You laughed. “No, Jumin, classes are fine. I just… Don’t really fit with your social class, you know. I mean, I knew I wouldn’t fit, but someday’s it really… just… I don’t know. You can put a working class girl in a Channel, but you can’t really change who she really is inside, right?” you smiled weakly.

Jumin furrowed his eyebrows, visibly upset. “What are you talking about?”

Your facade disappear and you sighed. You reached out for his hand and held it tighly.

“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I love you, I really do. Nothing can change that. But I can’t– I can’t pretend I don’t hear the whispers when I come here to have lunch with you. How I listen to them mocking these nice clothes you bought for me” you said, pointing at your light blue dress he had given you. “I don’t… I didn’t grow up with these things. I must look really dumb pretending to be part of a class I’m not”.

“Who made that comment?” he asks, angrily.

You try to cover it up, but after some pushing, you tell him it’s the secretary that works two offices away. She has a desk beside Jaehee’s. Jumin stands up, not stopping when you ask him to. He takes one step outside his office and spots the secretary you must be talking about.

“You’re fired. Assistant Kang, take care of that paperwork”.

Jumin returned to his office and locked the door. You can’t believe what just happened. He walks over to you and lifts up your chin with his hand, gently.

“Don’t ever let anyone tell you you don’t belong here. Or that you don’t deserve elegant clothes or anything I want to give to you. I know you didn’t grow up the same as me, but that’s why I love you. Because you didn’t look at me and saw my money or C&R, you looked at me. At who I was. Who I could be. I want to be the best man I can be, just for you. And I want to please you, giving you anything I can so you can enjoy life at its fullest. Also, look at you” he said, taking a look at your whole outfit. “You look breathtaking. You look classy, and it’s not just the dress” he smirked, kissing your cheek and making his way to your neck, leaving you a mess of giggles.

Saeyoung

Ok, so we all agree he’s the king of dark humour and self-deprecating jokes.

And he’s used to be like that around you and sometimes you make the same jokes and you both just laugh it out.

So that day, he doesn’t notice something’s off from the start.

He’s fixing the robot cat, since it had been malfunctioning. You’re reading a magazine  on the couch while he’s sitting on the floor, both of you talking on and off.

“One day you should teach me who to do that. You know, fixing stuff and such”

“I wil! But you’ll need to call me sensei during our lessons.”

“Sensei? Isn’t that japanese?”

“It is! I’ll be your sensei if you wish. But what do you want to learn to fix?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want to be the dumb one of the relationship”

“Awww. But we make such a good pair~”

“Just because you haven’t got tired of me yet” you chuckle.

“How could I get tired of your cooking? Never!~ I swear my mouth waters just thinking about your waffles.”

You laugh. “That’s all I am? My cooking?”

“Well, also how clean you keep this, Ms. Vanderwood hasn’t been complaining as much as before” he teases you.

“Well, you know I have to keep this apartment clean and your stomach full. That’s why I’m here, right? Until you get tired of my stupidness” you chuckle.

Saeyoung looks back at you, stopping on his fixing of robo-cat. He’s not longer smiling.

“… You really think that? That I think you’re stupid?”

“Well… I’m no genius. I’m just one more secretary, I’m… c’mon. You’d have more fun with someone who’s just as smart as you. I’m just here… until my time’s done. I’ve accepted it long ago.”

Suddenly he’s over you, making you lay on the couch, pinning both your arms over your head.

“Stop! What? Stop, just stop, what are you even saying?! You are kind, compassionate, generous and the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen. You stayed by my side when I was at my worst. You saw all parts of me and still loved me. I’m the one who isn’t worthy of someone as loving and forgiving as you. I– I could never. I could have never rescued Saeran without you. I could have never been happy or even think about real happiness if it weren’t for you. So honestly, what if you don’t know anything about computers or hacking? That doesn’t matter to me. It’s you and your heart. It’s always been about your loving heart, MC. Please, please don’t be so hard on yourself. I’ve loved you my whole life. Even before I met you. I just didn’t realize it.”

Your eyes water

damn, saeyoung i almost cried as well, you fucker

You both stay on the couch, holding each other until you fall asleep. He keeps whispering soft and warm words to your ear every now and then, making sure you never doubt yourself again.

Saeran

“i want to die” “same”

It’s so usual for you both to make dark jokes, he doesn’t really notice when it stops being a joke to you.

You’re both laying on the couch. You’re on top of him, resting your head on his chest. You can’t remember how it started, but you start joking around.

“Your girlfriend’s a mess, you know”

“She is. Have you seen her hair?” he teased.

“What the hell does she think she’s doing? Have you seen the way she dresses?”

“Total mishap. It’s like a match made in hell”

“And her voice? More like a screech” you laugh, making fun of your own voice.

“Will she ever shut up?” he sighed dramatically, smirking softly.

“Why does she think she actually make someone happy?” you chuckle. His smile disappears.

Saeran stays silent for a minute. “You’re not happy?”

are you not happy with him? has he already bored you out of your mind? are you having second thoughts about your relationship? because he’s been trying, he’s been seeing a psychologist and even though there still isn’t a big change, he— is it because there hasn’t been a big change?

“Well, you’re not” you replied in a small voice. “And I can’t– And I don’t how– Maybe it’s me?”

So, Saeran decides to try something he’s been talking about with his psychologist. Better now than ever, he thought.

“I love you”

You raise your head, looking at him in disbelief. He’s never said that before. When you started dating, he had kissed you and you had understood how it was hard for him to express feelings due to the severe trauma he had gone through, so you hadn’t pushed him but… Saeran was still looking at you, a tense expression on his face. You suddenly realized you hadn’t said anything back.

“I love you too”. You had said it before. You had told him that a million times, but it was the first time you said it back.

“I know it seems I’m not making progress– But I think I am? I mean, I just told you that, right?” he said, scratching his head, a little nervous. “He said we were going to work on expressing feelings, and it was easier to express the most intense ones.”

“Your most intense feeling– one of your most intense feelings is loving me?” you asked, still surprised.

“Shut up” he said, making you laugh for real this time.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger headcanon #mysme hc #mystic messenger hc #mm hc #mm jumin #mm zen #mm jaehee #mm yoosung #mm saeyoung #i've lost my ability to make small hcs #this turned out to be seven pages on a google doc #SEVEN #will i ever make small hcs again #idk

[20ways-tokillsomeone]

My muses, but it’s the 6 month uni prep program i took

I kind of regret making this a series now but I also don’t

MJhin:

Hair and makeup for the zoom class

Either that or the “I just woke up” look

Dreads having to meet anyone face to face

Features his cat

Elaborate/super decorated notes/notebooks

Might fall asleep during

Definitely turns his cam off and mutes himself in order to eat in the middle of class

Turns in all of his assignments on time

Kayn:

Background noise

Goes on off-topic rambles when given the opportunity

Features his dog to rival Jhin’s cat

Disorganized as fuck

“Wait we had homework?????”

Distracted

First to log off

Funny/memey background image and/or name

Always late

Thresh (Classic):

Chaotic force of nature in the clothing of a responsible adult

Is there for the after class drama

“You know what X said about you right?”

The “no effort, still gets good grades” type

Master of excuses

Hardly anybody notices he’s even there because he’s just so quiet

Likely too busy sexting his bf to even listen to the lecture

Perpetually high on weed, somehow still functions

Swain:

“I already know all that”

Assignments turned in on the same day they were given

Top half is dressed for class, bottom half is dressed in comfy sweatpants and socks

Always has a warm drink with him like a coffee

Interrupts professor with his own POV on the subject to challenge them

Takes this shit SERIOUSLY

Annoyed as fuck at people like Kayn who disrupt the class

“Whoever this noise is coming from MUTE YOURSELF FFS”

Has all the professors’ numbers and emails memorized by heart

Will file complaints

Darius:

Honestly couldn’t be assed

Only doing this for the scholarship that is promised to those who complete the program

Is late

Skips classes he finds too hard/too boring

Does all assignments last minute

Crams for exams

“Ah fuck it” attitude

Does things in the background like fold laundry while listening to the lecture on speaker

Or better yet, jog

Energy drinks

Absolute dumpster fire of a student and his grades speak for themselves

Zed:

Mood dependent student

Sometimes he’s the pinnacle of what a student should strive to be like

Sometimes he’s worse than Darius

Not stupid or lazy by any means he’s just got better things to do

Also depression

Cam and mic off ALWAYS, watching Netflix during class

Shows up hungover or drunk at least once

Copies his assignments from Shen

Breezes through exams like the uni equivalent of usain bolt, whether that’s good or bad is up to God to decide

Shen:

Sweetest guy around

Teacher’s pet

Offers to tutor other students who are struggling, for free

Always on time, always logs on first

Organized and orderly

Somehow balances school with personal life without letting the two mix

Is up for after school meet ups, sometimes

Has a tendency to stay up late with his assignments and sacrifices sleep

Doesn’t let that show though

Always has a huge ass bottle of water near him because hydration is IMPORTANT

Deals with school stress by meditating

Akali:

Lord help her

She’s doing her best I promise but somehow still loses control of her life entirely

Laughs at Kayn’s memes in the middle of class

Probably joins in on them too

Eats with the mic ON

Tried Shen’s tutoring service once and decided she’ll just wing it from there

*mixes monster energy drink with coffee* “I’m gonna die”

Relatively good grades cuz she a smart goil with a lot of potential but also a lot of chaotic stupid energy

Studies with Kayn, nothing ever gets done

Addicted to tiktok, records some during class

“what do you mean highlight the important parts EVERYTHING IS IMPORTANT”

#HEADCANONS; MJhin #HEADCANONS; Kayn #HEADCANONS; Thresh (Classic) #HEADCANONS; Swain #HEADCANONS; Darius #HEADCANONS; Zed #HEADCANONS; Shen #HEADCANONS; Akali #ya boiiiiiiiii

[luvknow]

how to tame a prince | seo changbin

genre: dragon prince!changbin x fem researcher!reader | fantasy/royal au ; enemies-to-lovers ; swearing summary: you travel the world collecting data so you could write your thesis on your favorite creatures - dragons. at the last leg of your journey, you accidentally fall asleep in a dragon’s cave owned by a nearby kingdom and are kidnapped by their prince, seo changbin. after getting permission to study there from the king, changbin refuses to leave you alone with his precious dragons and you develop an unlikely relationship. wc: 11.6k

Your very first memory as a wee little kid was when you were waiting impatiently in bed for one of your parents to come and read you a bedtime story. Your library was filled with infinite amounts of educational, but kid-friendly books just for you. Your father was the one who filled bookcases upon bookcases of those books because he knew the second you were born that your mind craved infinite knowledge. And he was right! You loved reading the shelves in your name because they held words that your school was too afraid to say. In fact, you got in trouble a lot simply because you said those words.

Witches, trolls, spirits, goblins, ghouls, magic, you name it, you read it, you said it and the school was not very happy with neither you nor your parents. But that’s ok, because your parents didn’t care for what the stuck up old hags said, anyways. They weren’t going to be those parents who hid their child from the vast unknowns of the world because they were trying to ‘protect’ you - they wanted to show you the unknowns. They’d take the scolding for as long as they can - as long as that little fire that burned for knowledge was still lit in your heart, then they had nothing to worry about.

No one expected any less from the famous apothecary family.

You were maybe ten by the time you read about dragons. Ten was a sensitive and impressionable age for most kids, but keep in mind that you’ve read about nearly every large carnivorous creature to exist by then. The largest was a griffin (or was it a hippogriff?), but even to you, a lion-horse-eagle with talons and wings didn’t impress you much. So when you came across the mighty dragons, you were hooked.

Some were monocolored, some were multi, some had wings with no legs, and some had legs but could still fly, wasn’t that marvelous!? Dragons were all over the world in infinite flavors with infinite purposes unknown to ordinary humans like you, but that’s what attracted you to them - they were a species of infinite possibilities.

Dragons were a complete mystery not only to you, but to the world. Aside from the tamers that lived in the mountains, the forests, and in between, no one really knew about them outside of a very select handful of good academic papers and books and whatever the professors were hiding from the world. So you took it upon yourself to do God’s work and research about dragons yourself. There has to be some kid out there who was just as curious as you were, right? And what do they have for resources? Old scrolls and beat-up books. You couldn’t recall exactly when in your childhood you decided to write your thesis on dragons, but you guessed it was somewhere between when your parents got their first shipment in of pitch black dragon’s blood and when you saw a patient burst in with a poisonous bite on his thigh.

“What happened?” a younger you asked, yelling over the bloody murder-screaming patient.

“This man was in the forest hunting and accidentally shot an arrow through a baby dragon. Let’s just say the mother wasn’t too happy about his presence,” your mother giggled. “Now I have to use all of the dragon blood from our last shipment to pour over this nasty wound along with a huge dollop of our magic creme. Will you get the gauze for me?”

You obeyed and handed her the roll. She cut long enough to wrap around and cover the wound and cut up a smaller piece to ball up and stuff in the patient’s mouth.

“Ah, much better,” your mother sighed when the screaming subsided. “Suck it up, will ya?”

After that intriguing encounter, you read about dragon’s blood and its purposes for the whole week.

You spent all your free time until you graduated secondary school reading about the creatures of the world. Your grades would slip up here and there because you failed to read the current literature assignment or the chapter in calculus, but you eventually graduated and thank God for that, right? Your parents were exhausted after nearly fifteen years of parent-teacher conferences. Now you could read about, write about, and talk about dragons as much as you pleased. They were the center of your childhood and now they were going to be the center of your world.

When it was time for you to leave the nest, your parents didn’t shed any tears. Rather, they couldn’t stop themselves from grinning because they were so incredibly proud of their curious child.

“Where will you go?” your mother asked.

“To every dragon habitat I can find. They say the dragons that inhabit the forests and guard the streams and lakes are the most um, temperamental, so I'll start there.”

“Just don’t be a stranger, ok?” As you nodded, she pulled something from her pocket - a little black vial tied to a long leather string. She looped it over your head and let the glass dangle and shine like a jewel. “It’s dragon’s blood. But only use it during a lifesaving emergency, do you understand? Don’t be stupid with this! This was very expensive…”

“Yes, mom…”

“And don’t waste it on some stupid stranger! Make sure you save that for you and you only -!”

“Yes, mom…!”

“Take this also,” your father said, handing you an apple-sized glass jar with a dark green creme in it. You never noticed your parents had an affinity for dark things, but then again you grew up in a shop painted pitch black your entire life, so you never cared to notice.

“Magic creme?” you asked.

“For not-so emergency emergencies. Who knows what kind of nasty stuff is out there that we don’t know about! This could save your life one day, too.”

You placed the jar carefully inside your bag that was stuffed with only the essentials. You had tons of notebooks, pens, clothes, some snacks, miscellaneous things, and lots of money all packed up. With the dragon’s blood around your neck and a jar of magic creme, you were all set to go.

You set off to a deep forest about seven days travel away - quite the distance for your first location, but luckily the locals in every passing town were super helpful. They all pointed you in the right direction without asking for a single coin, and you think it’s because they think you’re doing them the favor of slaying a dragon rather than study it because they all warned you about the tamers.

“Be careful while travellin’!” A farmer warned. “Them dragon tamers don’t take a liking to slayers. Can’t imagine why! Ha!”

“Oh, I’m not -”

“You should hurry! You don’t wanna be stuck in the forest when it’s dark. That’s when the goblins come out.”

On your way in, you wrote and took note of everything you could see. The height of the canopy, the types of fruits and flowers, the shape of the leaves, the sizes of the rocks - literally everything! You even taped a couple of leaves into your notebook as both a reference and a souvenir. They made your notes look cute.

A couple of hours passed since you’ve been sitting on a rock by a pond that totally looked like one that a dragon would drink out of but alas, nothing even remotely close to a dragon showed up!

Just as you were about to give up and go back to your inn for the night, the leaves of the forest danced with the sudden strong gust of the wind. The moon was shining without a cloud in the sky, but then a long figure shadowed the light and the forest was almost pitch black if it wasn’t for your campfire.

“What an enormous creature, huh?” a gentle voice noted. From the shadows of the trees, an older woman stepped out into the moonlight with a kind smile on her face, amused by your dropped jaw. “First time seeing a dragon?”

“Can you tell?”

“Oh, yeah. Wanna take a closer look?”

“Really!?”

“Of course! You gotta study them somehow, right?”

That night you learned that both dragons and their tamers were naturally intuitive like that. Did you really look so much like a researcher?

Your first encounter with a dragon was absolutely terrifying. When you read about them being huge, you never thought they’d be this huge! But size didn’t define her personality a single bit. This dragon was a gentle giant and you were lucky that she was your first study subject. Her scales were gorgeous shades of blue and you’re devastated that you’ll never be able to capture a color so unique that it didn’t have a proper name. For days you drew, pet, fed, studied, and talked to her until you got all the information you wanted. Who knew leaving your first dragon subject would be this hard?

“Where are you off to next?” your tamer trainer asked.

“I don’t know, to be honest. Do you have any suggestions?”

“I think you should head to the waters and then the mountains. You’ll hit the mountains first, but get through them as fast as you can.”

“Why?”

“Those dragons are not one to be reckoned with. You need to build your experience with other dragons first - you know, get the hang of meeting different personalities. The dragons of the river are much more forgiving than the ones of the mountains. Also the mountain tamers are assholes.”

“Is that so?” you chuckled.

“Yeah, fuck those guys! They think they're the shit just because they’re high in altitude, can weather the worst conditions, and have the toughest dragons to tame. So smug, that group… Be on your tiptoes when you travel through there.”

When you left the following morning, you took heed to her advice and traveled through the valleys of the mountains straight to the rushing rivers that lead to a waterfall that dropped for miles. It appeared to be an ordinary river. At the top of the river, not much was seen besides foamy waters. But after a days trip down to the bottom, you saw an oasis. The waters were crystal clear and chilling which was very refreshing to drink after all the walking and climbing. At the pond where the river ended was a school of koi fish of different colors and patterns. Legend had it that koi who can swim up the waterfall turn into a dragon - at least that’s what your books said. And maybe they were true, especially when you watched for hours how some koi were able to climb a short ways up. But it’d be another thousand years until another koi-dragon would be born.

The newest dragon was golden. He was an excited and ambitious serpent with claws and a head of a lion. Though intimidating with his beady eyes and long whiskers, he was friendly the moment he noticed you weren’t a hunter. Again, it was crazy how dragons had an intuition about people just from looking at you for a couple of minutes. This lone dragon appeared without a tamer, playing with you for only a quick moment, though it was enough for you to write down everything you had about him. As quickly as he came, he disappeared up the waterfall to where only the Gods knew.

In the span of two dragons, you filled out nearly an entire notebook already! You hoped to fill out a million more.

And that’s what you did. You spent years and years travelling the globe to all corners with trees and bodies of water. But not the mountains - not yet, at least. You weren’t ready for that. You spent those years studying dragons who all kind of looked similar. Many were serpent-like with snakeish bodies, heavy heads with long whiskers. You haven’t encountered any four-legged-type yet, which was what you assumed to find in the mountains. Guess you saved the best for last, huh?

You were down to your last set of recently-bought notebooks by the time you reached the mountains. You hoped the village had some for purchase and you could send the ones in your bag back to your parents to read. They were your biggest fans when it came to your books and for that, you were thankful.

It's cold in the mountains when you arrived. It was still daylight, but the snow was barely tolerable when gusts of wind flew in your face. You figured a storm was brewing as the sun began to set and set up camp in a conveniently-placed cave. The cave was huge, ginormous even, and obviously way too big for any human to create. But you were way too tired to question it - even the rocks were comfortable to you, that’s how tired you were! And it seemed like no one inhabited it at the moment, so for now, you'd be safe.

The crackle of your campfire was the white noise that helped you fall asleep. You were knocked out dead the whole night that you didn’t even notice you were getting kidnapped.

“What the -” you said, struggling to wake up from all the noise. A bunch of black leather and fur-cladded people surrounded you. An angry looking one, who you assumed was the leader, snatched your backpack. “Hey, give that back!”

When you lunged forward to take your bag, a red-hot dragon roared behind him deep inside the cave and you fell to your knees before your captors in fear and amusement. With wide eyes, you ignored the people robbing you of your only belongings and watched the creature breathe a hot, white fire. He was a full-grown adult, you could already tell. With wings of a bat, clean ruby scales, and a body of a serpent, you’ve never seen a dragon more beautiful. You took mental notes of every detail and hoped these people would give you your books back soon before you forgot.

Tight metal shackles were being cuffed on your wrists when you snapped out of your daze. One man pulled you roughly to your feet and made you look at their leader right in the eyes.

Ah, he’s a bit… short… for a leader…

“Who are you,” he demanded sternly.

“I’m a researcher,” you answered honestly. “I research dragons.”

“Is that what you do before you kill them?”

“N-No, I would never -!”

“Then what the fuck were you doing in his cave?” he sneered, referring to the fire-breather behind him.

“I didn’t know it was his cave.”

“You just happened to stumble in, is that it?”

“Well, yeah, I guess -”

“Bull fucking shit.”

“It’s not! If you’d just let me get a word in, I can explain -!”

“Take them away.”

“Wait what, away where? Hey, where are we going!?”

“You’ll see.”

The leader’s henchmen dragged you through the snow all the way back to their village miles away. Though seemingly mountain folk, they actually lived in the valleys where the temperature was much warmer that even flowers bloomed from the soil. The dragons must have been the ones who inhabited the mountains.

All of the townspeople dressed like your captors - decked out in leathers and furs, charcoal lining their eyes decoratively, and silver jewelry that showed off their social status. As you were cuffed and exposed for everyone in the village to see, you side-glanced the leader. His ears were bejeweled with dangling drops of silver and ear shell cuffs so shiny that they were blinding. His fingers held some heavy metal, too, some encrusted with rubies and garnets. The aesthetic of these people, though a bit bold, was quite stylish, even if it was just a palette of silvers, blacks, and reds.

The leader shot you a sharp glare.

“Staring is rude,” he sneered.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for someone who cared for manners,” you scoffed back.

“Do you know what I do with strangers who stare too long?” You didn’t answer. “I gauge their eyes out with a melon scooper.”

You let him win that round.

You were taken to a castle at the edge of the town whose walls could be seen the second you stepped foot in the valley. Its architecture was intimidating, which was quite fitting for such an, um, unique people, but it was beautiful nonetheless. You couldn’t wait to be locked up in there until you died.

The following events were a blur as they all lead you to God-knows-where to do God-knows-what. A torture chamber? A dungeon maybe? You hoped the dungeon or wherever you were going at least had a dragon to guard the door.

You entered a grand room where the King and Queen sat on their black thrones. Finally, you'd get to talk to the true leaders of the village, not this shrimpy delinquent who threatened to melon ball your eyes out and his buff henchmen who did his dirty work. Maybe you could at least get a word in with mature adults. How dare they capture you without letting you explain! Although your captors looked angry when they first saw you in their cave, the King and Queen didn’t seem as disgusted.

“What is this?” The King asked with genuine curiosity.

“We found her sleeping in Jin’s cave.” Ah, so Jin was the dragon’s name! A handsome name for a handsome dragon.

“Was she doing anything else…?”

“No… but she might’ve if we didn’t catch her.”

“Hand me the bag.”

The small man handed your backpack over to the King. He inspected it and was surprised to see that nothing else was found other than your essentials and notebooks, which was what you were trying to explain to your captors in the first place. The King flipped through your notes and you couldn’t help but burn a deep pink. No one besides your parents have read your notes and you felt embarrassed and exposed seeing someone squint at them like they were judging every sentence you wrote.

“These are very thorough,” he commented. “What exactly do you do?”

“I research dragons for this thesis I’m writing.”

“A thesis?”

“Yes! Hopefully to become a book one day. I-I swear I don’t kill dragons!”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I don’t have any weapons on me. I’m completely defenseless! And theoretically speaking, even if I could slay a dragon, wouldn’t you think I would have fought back from being captured? All your people captured me unscathed. Also, do you really think that I could slay a dragon and come out alive?”

Your captor hated to admit that you were right, but you had a point there. Even so, he refused to let you get away with sleeping in Jin's cave.

"Fine then. You're free to research for your thesis."

"What!?" the leader shrieked. "But Father -"

"And you, Changbin, are to leave them unbothered. I shouldn't have to waste my time on something as pointless as this. Both of you - all of you - get out of my sight."

The henchmen left without question, followed by the King and Queen, and finally their guards. It was you and the leader named Changbin left alone and you couldn't leave until you were unshackled and had your belongings. The boy stayed glued in his place as if he couldn't believe that his father let a complete stranger get so close to his precious dragons! Honestly, if you were in his place, you'd think the same thing.

Changbin shot you another glare. "Are you going to move or will I have to drag you out the same way you came in?"

"I'll gladly leave once you take these things off of me."

Reluctantly, though quickly, he strutted to you and unlocked your wrists with a key. As you stood up and dusted yourself off, your bag was shoved harshly to your chest nearly knocking the wind out of you.

You can smell his cologne as he leaned in. "I'm watching you," he threatened.

You held in your breath so you wouldn't seem afraid. Was it working? How was it that you could muster the courage to stand in front of dragons but a measly prince who smelled nice made you nervous?

"Be my guest," you replied back nonchalantly.

A soft 'tch' was heard before he stormed out of the room to finish his stuck-up princely duties, or whatever. Everything was still in your bag, including the magic creme you still had plenty of left, so you were thankful for that. Now that you're in the clear to study as much as you could about the four-legged-dragons, it seemed like your only obstacle now was Changbin. Even if he kept his promise about keeping an eye on you, you just prayed that he wouldn't get in the way.

Now to find an inn far away from the castle...

You rented a room at an inn at the very edge of the village closest to the path that would lead you back to Jin's cave. It was still afternoon by the time you settled in and you had time to buy more notebooks, some food, and most importantly proper clothing. Rumor has it that the weather's going to be unbearable the next few weeks and who knows how long you'll be here? So you bought whatever you could to stay warm and boy, did you look like a local. Black and fur wasn't your style, but you looked good in it, so you couldn't complain. Fur made you look fancy.

You set out for the cave as soon as you were finished with your errands. Four-legged fire breathers were most active in the nighttime and you weren't going to waste a single day out here. You wanted to spend as much time as you could studying not only Jin, but the other dragons that guarded this village. You hoped that the other tamers were nicer than Changbin because the likelihood of him letting you study Jin without a problem didn't seem very high.

As you entered the same cave just after the sun was setting, you saw someone made it to Jin before you. Guess Changbin wasn't going to let you study Jin problem-free afterall. He sat on a rock in front of his relaxed dragon as if he was waiting for you. The moment the echo of your footsteps could be heard throughout the cave, the dragon's eyes snapped wide open like a snake. Sharp, long flames shot up from his flaring red nostrils, dangerously close to the unbothered boy.

"You're late," he sneered.

"For what?"

"His feeding."

Changbin stood up from his rock and ushered the abnormally-calm dragon to follow him towards you. The cave shook every time Jin took a step and if you thought he was huge from afar, well he was ginormous up close. You didn't notice you unconsciously took steps back until you reached the outside of his cave.

"How was I supposed to know it was his feeding time?" you pouted.

"Some 'dragon researcher' you are if you don’t know a dragon’s dinner time."

The boy brushed your shoulder as he passed by and you're ashamed you let him, but you figured it'd be smart to let Jin pass by first. He took a quick whiff at you as he passed and you took his disinterest in you as a good sign. Maybe that meant he liked you? The other dragons you encountered usually expressed that they liked you, but you'll figure this out later. For now, as you followed them, you'd take mental notes of Jin's appearance, like how the blue-ish tint of the moonlight made his scales reflect back the slightest purple.

You followed the Prince all the way back down to a vast farm filled with cows and goats, exactly where you hoped to not end up. The animals were munching on the plush green grass but you were too distracted by Jin’s hungry growling to enjoy the peaceful scene. Changbin looked back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Got your fancy notebook ready?" he asked, but didn't let you answer.

He held his hand out to the openness of the farm and Jin happily flew towards his meals. Really you should have been terrified that this large beast mercilessly chewed up livestock, but God, was this fascinating! Jin was the type of dragon who had fun with his meals, tossing them up in the air and catching them whole as opposed to not wasting any time and just eating like a 'normal' dragon. It was almost like he was a dragon pup, but maybe he was just a pup at heart.

Changbin looked annoyed that you were enjoying this. "You can't seriously be entertained by this."

"Some dragon researcher I'd be if I didn't enjoy this," you muttered, not taking your eyes off of the red beast and your notebook.

"You're not normal, are you?"

"Really, what's normal these days? Also no, I read a lot of books when I was younger."

"You look like a bookworm."

"Thank you." The oh-so high and mighty Prince scoffed at your remark. "You don't like that I'm here, do you? Or rather you don’t like me at all."

"What gave it away." He made sure to make it sound like a condescending statement rather than a curious question.

You closed your notebook for now and focused on Changbin, who can't seem to keep his eyes off of you even when he was trying to be insulting. Were you that interesting to him, or something? "But why? Is it just me, or are you like this with all of your visitors?"

He walked up to you - more like strutted, in all his leather and bejeweled glory - until you could smell his cologne again. There's a bit of playfulness on his lips once he stopped in front of you and you're starting to think that he's enjoying the back-and-forth dialogue you two share. Could it be that he likes the company and that he’s just teasing you? Then, his pointer finger grazed your collarbone, sending bursts of chills across your skin. He hooked his finger around the strap of your necklace and pulled out the vial of blood that you hid in your shirt.

He tugged forward so your faces were close and your breath hitched in your throat. "I don't like you because you claim to love dragons, yet you wear their blood on your neck like a trophy," he seethed.

“How did you know?”

“You reek of it.”

"It’s not like I slayed the dragon -"

"If Jin were to kill someone right now and I wore their blood around my neck, does that make me any less barbaric?"

"Does their blood have the healing properties of a God?"

Changbin dropped his hold on your neck and rolled his eyes, heading back over to his precious beast. "You're barbaric," he yelled into the night.

"As a traveller far from home, I need this! Not all of us have your luxuriously stagnant lifestyle as royalty!"

"No, but I can't imagine a life with apothecary parents was quite difficult."

He called over his rubied dragon who flew to him in a heartbeat. Though having just eaten a ton of livestock, the blood from eating blended in with his scales, and for that you were grateful. Jin still doesn't seem to mind your presence and Changbin took notice of it right away. Yet another reason to be annoyed with you - he was never this welcoming to strangers! Some guardian dragon...

You're still in shock about how he knew about your parents. He was almost too intuitive. "How did you know that?"

"Dragon's blood is the world's rarest commodity. Only the best apothecaries can get a hold of that stuff. Lucky you."

Jin flew up into the air, swirling gusts of wind all around you and Changbin, nearly lifting you and the remaining livestock off of your feet but the Prince was already used to this. Once he was airborne, the mighty beast flew back the way that you came, high into the mountains to either go back into his cave or play in the night sky.

Changbin was already heading back towards the village in the valleys when you were done doodling in awe. You had to run to catch up to him - what kind of Prince leaves a guest in the middle of a dark field unattended!?

"Do you ever fly with him?" you asked, trying to break the tense silence.

Changbin nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Just for fun, or…?”

“Sometimes for fun, sometimes for errands.”

“How is it?”

“How is it?” he repeated, cocking his brow. How has a dragon researcher not flown yet? “It’s indescribable.”

“Can you try describing it?”

“Why don’t you just ride one and see how it feels?”

“Do I look like I know how to fly a fifty-ton beast?”

The Prince halted just before entering the village and turned to look at you incredulously. “Do you know how to do anything with dragons besides just standing there and watching them?”

Embarrassed, you scratched your head. “Not really…”

He shook his head disapprovingly. “Not only are you barbaric, you’re hopeless.”

Changbin walked away, leaving you to on your own to walk to your inn.

“Asshole,” you muttered.

You really did not want to see Changbin multiple days in a row for however long you were going to be there. Instead, you asked the locals to see where other dragons’ caves were in the mountains. At first they thought you were a slayer in disguise, but then they realized you were just bat-shit crazy after you told them you were a plain researcher who enjoyed making a living out of your passion. Regardless, they told you where the other two caves were hidden. It was incredible that there were only three dragons in total for such a vast mountain range, but it seemed like that was all they needed.

Halfway up the mountains towards the second dragon’s cave, you realized that maybe you under dressed for the occasion, even as the sun was still out and shining. Multiple pelts of fur was enough to keep your body warm, but you failed to purchase a damn scarf to cover your face from the icy winds. But you couldn’t turn back now! You came too far already.

Just as you were mentally cursing yourself, you felt a snowball hit the back of your head.

“Ow! What the fuck!?” you screamed. You didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Changbin.

“How unladylike of you to swear,” he teased.

“How unprincely of you to harass a lady!”

“‘Harass’, relax it’s just snow. And ‘unprincely’ isn’t a word.”

“How about I call you ignoble instead.”

“Hey,” he said threateningly, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t call me that, you barbarian.”

You didn’t care for his name calling as you turned around and continued walking towards the cave. You can hear Changbin’s footsteps behind you. As if the day could not get any worse, the snow thrown at your face began to melt and trickle down your neck and chest, making you feel cold, uncomfortable, and shivering so hard that even the Prince started to feel bad for you.

You felt a long wad of fleece being draped over your face messily on purpose. The kind and chivalrous Prince just gave you his scarf! Oh, lucky you.

“What is this for?” you asked.

“You’re an idiot for not dressing properly for the mountains.”

“Sorry that I don’t live near mountains...”

“It’s common knowledge. That’s my favorite scarf by the way, so don’t get it dirty.”

Today marked the day that Changbin showed an emotion other than disgust towards you. You even wrote it down in your notebook.

He walked ahead of you the rest of the way and you weren’t sure if he was leading you or because he didn’t want to stand next to you. You followed anyways, knowing that you’d be completely lost without him otherwise. It was a wonder how you made it up this far without him to begin with. But you probably would have found your way eventually, right? Why did he have to babysit you! And how did he know when you were leaving to go every time!? But if you really thought about it, if you had dragons of your own, you’d act the exact same way - no one would ever lay a hand on your babies.

The second cave was just as open as Jin’s, but no dragon could be seen in the shallow parts of the entrance. Unlike Jin’s cave, torches lit with fire were stuck on the walls and led you so deep inside that you couldn’t even see the end.

You stopped in your place. This was kind of spooky, wasn’t it? What if this was where you’d die? What if Changbin was leading you to some satanic ritual where they tied you up like a boar and the dragon would cook you up like a pot roast for dinner and -

“The hell are you standing there for?” Changbin’s voice echoed. “Are you scared, or something?”

“Uh… or something,” you replied shakily. “Where are we going?”

“Do you think I’m going to kidnap you again?” A playful smirk grew on his lips.

“It wouldn’t be unlikely.”

“She’s all the way in the back for a reason. See for yourself.”

Reluctantly and with your guard up, you followed him to the back of the cave. The cave was so deep into the mountains that the torches stopped somewhere in between and Changbin had to grab the last one hung up and lead the way. While you took notes on the cave depth, Changbin waited impatiently for you to catch up.

“It’s just a cave, what do you even need to take notes on?”

“Jin’s cave was nothing like this one. I have to take note of everything and anything - that’s what researchers do, after all.”

“Doesn’t that take a long time?”

“Oh, it takes forever! But I don’t mind.” There’s a content smile on your lips that has Changbin wondering what kind of weirdo he got stuck with. You’re interesting though, and you can hold an intelligent conversation, so he can’t complain about being bored at least. “You don’t have to keep waiting for me. I won’t try to escape, I swear.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“You’re worried about something?”

“It gets really dark in here. You’ll get lost if I leave you behind.”

“Hm, sounds like you’re worried about me ~”

“If I lose you and you die, my ass is next because my Father will think I’m the reason behind it. Can’t have the King thinking that, now can I?” Changbin ignored your pouty lips and kept moving forward. “Hurry up, we’re almost there.”

Luckily, he was right. At the very end of the cave was a huge, courtyard-sized nest with a tired pitch black dragon napping inside. Her scales were so matte black that even the fire that circled the walls didn’t reflect. You could see her spine rise and fall as she slept peacefully. For a quick moment, Changbin smiled at your dreamy eyes, but then quickly frowned again before walking around the nest to the sweet spot.

“Where are you going!?” you whispered harshly, hoping not to wake up the dragon. “Don’t leave me here!”

“Shut up and come look.”

Even from a distance, you could see Changbin gently smiling and you’re not sure whether you were more curious or frightened by it. Regardless, you tiptoed over to your enemy to take a peak at what he’s smiling at and you nearly burst into tears.

“Holy shit, dragon eggs…” you whispered. Under the ginormous black dragon was a handful of equally-black eggs.

“They’re due soon. Happens only once every thousand years, you know?”

“Of course I know.” It was too hard to hold in your grin as you doodled the masterpiece in front of you. “Does she sleep all the time?”

“She’s practically hibernating until they hatch.”

“Incredible! What’s her name?”

“We never gave her a formal one. We kind of just call her Queenie. She’s my mother’s dragon.”

You watched Changbin stare at the beautiful dragon fondly. He was kind of cute when he wasn’t glaring at you. “Do you like her a lot?”

“Mm. Jin may be mine, but Queenie’s my favorite. Don’t tell him that, though.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Prince.”

Changbin let you do your thing and waited for you to write down all the details you needed. Since she was just sleeping, you didn’t have much to write down, but you wanted to draw as much detail as you could for this picture. Your previous ones hadn’t been so detailed because the dragons were constantly moving, but now you had the time to do so.

You knew Changbin was watching over your shoulder when you could smell his cologne. He was so close that even bits of hair tickled your cheeks. You tugged your notebook to your chest.

“What do you want?” you asked suspiciously.

“You’re actually really good at that.”

“Is that a surprise?”

He shrugged. “Kind of. Let me see.”

“What, no!”

“As Prince, I order you to let me see.”

“You’re not my Prince!”

Your whining was useless because he was able to snatch your notebook away with just a few tricks. You were too embarrassed to try to fight and take it back as he was already flipping through all the pages you had on both Jin and Queenie for the next several minutes. You felt so vulnerable now that not only the King has seen your work, but now the Prince, too.

“They’re messy, I know, b-but it’s just a draft! I plan on writing harder copies later.”

“They’re fine,” he said, handing you back your book. “If your notes weren’t messy, I’d question your methods. And you’re surprisingly literate with your words.”

“Gee, thanks,” you deadpanned.

“I’d like to read your other notebooks sometime.”

“Really? Why -”

“That’s an order.”

“Again, not my Prince!”

His cologne gets stronger the more you’re able to smell it. It’s like he’s sewing the scent into your brain. “When you’re in my village, I am your only Prince. Is that clear, _____?”

Oh, no - he finally figured out your name and it sounded chilling coming from his lips. You didn’t react or say a word as he brushed passed with a triumphant smirk. It was then when you let out a sigh of relief. What the hell was his deal!? Did he hate you? Did he just like teasing you? Or was he actually beginning to tolerate you? Like you even?

When you exited the cave still dazed from seeing dragon eggs for the first time, Changbin grabbed your arm so you stop.

“Do you want your scarf back?” you asked.

“When you go see the last dragon, come find me.”

“Why, so you can babysit me again?”

“Yes.” The sternness in his voice and his furrowed brows let you know that he wasn’t playing around. “The last one’s not like the other two. There’s a reason his cave is the farthest away.”

“Which is?”

“He has a really bad temper and has trust issues. He only trusts my Father.”

“So loyal.”

“That’s one way to put it.” He squeezed your arm lightly, like he knew something bad was going to happen regardless. “Promise you’ll find me before you go.”

You nodded sincerely. “I promise.”

“Good.” And he took off ahead again, hoping the redness on his cheeks would subside.

You wrote this moment down in your notebook.

You spent the next several cave visits studying the Prince and Queen dragons with the Prince himself. Not only were you not ready to see the Mighty dragon yet, but you also thought you didn’t get enough info on the other two. You insisted that you could go on your own to both caves, but Changbin’s reasons for not leaving you alone were 1) he trusted no one near Jin and 2) he trusted no one near the eggs. But didn’t he know by now that you were completely harmless?

“‘Trust no one’ is my motto and I always keep my word,” he said when you told him that you could be trusted for the hundredth time.

“Didn’t the King say to leave me unbothered? And don’t you have to follow the King’s orders? So aren’t you breaking your word to the King by keeping your word to your motto?”

“Like I’d actually listen to my Father.”

“You’re telling me that you never listen to the King...”

“Not when he’s wrong.”

“Wow, you’re such a rebel.”

While you would write down and doodle in your notebook, you let Changbin read your past works that you had on hand just as he asked. You remember spending the entire night before skimming through them and seeing if any of them were too dumb or didn’t have enough fancy words but you honestly couldn’t tell which notes were good or bad. You were so nervous for him to read them that you lost a lot of sleep, but you could really use some criticism that wasn’t from your parents, so you hoped this was worth it.

Instead of Jin feasting on livestock, Changbin told him to fly off, hunt on his own, and bring back whatever he caught for you to see.

“You think we can afford to feed a dragon livestock everyday?” Changbin scoffed. “We may be rich, but not that rich.”

“Quit scolding me, I’m here to learn for a reason,” you pouted.

“Speaking of,” he paused and held out his hand to you. “I believe I ordered some notebooks.”

“You get one notebook for now.”

Changbin gladly took the one you gave him and carefully read in silence. You tried patiently waiting and editing your notes until Jin to returned, but you kept on getting distracted by the Prince’s hums of either approval or disapproval - it was itching at you that you couldn’t tell.

You tried to peak over his shoulder to see what he was reading. You smelled like the flowers from the shop in the village.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“Your study titled Hydra At the Edge of the World,” he replied, not looking up from your notebook. “It’s actually fascinating.”

“You really think so?”

He nodded. “I haven’t read much on other species of dragons so this is all new to me.”

“Some dragon tamer you are,” you teased, but Changbin wasn’t having it when he shot you a sharp glare you were so used to. “I’m kidding!”

“How many notebooks have you filled?”

“I don’t know to be honest. Fifty maybe?”

“You have fifty whole notebooks filled? Jeez, how long have you been doing this?”

“A few years. By now I thought I’d have a system when it came to note-taking, but I find that the fastest and easiest way is to write like a chicken with its head cut off.”

“I noticed,” he mumbled. “I expect to read all of them, by the way.”

“All of them!? You want me to ask my parents to ship the rest back to you, Your Highness?”

“That’s an order.” You don’t even bother to fight back. Rather you couldn’t stop the wide grin forming on your lips. “What’s wrong with you face?”

“You inadvertently said that you like my work ~”

“Shut up, I did not.”

“Let’s pretend that you did.”

You eventually finished editing your notes and you and Changbin ended up sitting on the grass next to each other. While you watched the sun set behind the mountains, the Prince finished up one whole notebook and clamped it shut. For a long while, you both shared this moment together in silence. No bickering, no teasing, no awkwardness - just pure peace. Out of all the places you’ve visited, you must admit that nothing was as beautiful as the sun setting beyond the snowcaps.

“He normally doesn’t take this long,” Changbin said. “He must be trying to impress you.”

“Little ol’ me?”

“He tends to do that for people he likes.”

“That’s so cute! Did you teach him to do that?”

“What makes you think I’d teach him something so pointless?”

“You seem like someone who’d try to impress someone you like.”

“You don’t know me,” he muttered.

“I really don’t. You’re confusing.”

“Good.”

“You haven’t tried to go all out for some hot Princess or your suitors or something?”

“No. I don’t need to do anything - I’m already impressing.”

“Ha!” you scoffed too loudly. “I don’t know about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll admit you give lasting impressions. Like you kidnapped me, threatened me, won’t leave me alone, but I wouldn’t say you’re impressing…”

“I’m the Prince and heir of the only Dragon Kingdom left on this planet! I own a dragon, for fuck’s sake! I’m also sexy!”

“Mm, not so sure about that last one.”

“I should throw you in the dungeon.”

For the first time, Changbin got an earful of your light laughter. His father would often describe his mother’s laugh as sweet as syrup and for once he can understand what the King meant. Your laughter, mixed with the sight of the stars, was almost too sweet. Changbin didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he scolded.

“I can’t help that you’re funny for once.”

“Ok, Miss Professor. If you don’t think I’m impressing, what makes you so special?”

“Nothing really,” you answered honestly. “I’m quite ordinary.”

“You’ve traveled the world, studied over fifty dragons, and carry dragon’s blood on your neck and you’re telling me you think you’re ordinary?”

“Do you think I’m fascinating, Your Highness? It seems you answered your own question.”

Changbin bit his lip as punishment for saying too much. He needed to watch his words around you more because knowing you, you’d use them against him in a heartbeat. He changed the subject.

“Do you like travelling the world?” he asked.

“Yes and no. Yes because I met some amazing dragons and people, but also no because I miss home.”

“What was it like? All the travelling, I mean.”

“Incredible. A bit lonely, but incredible. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. There’s so much out there that’s yet to be discovered, you know? And I’m doing some of that discovering! It’s a wild place out here.” Changbin hummed. “Do you travel often?”

He shook his head. “Almost never.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I only ever travel for marriage contract reasons.”

“Ah…” Somehow, you’re disappointed. Maybe disappointed wasn’t the right word. “Are you engaged?”

“No, thankfully. We travel to meet the royal families, but it never works out. Their intentions for our dragons are for war and that’s not what they’re raised for. And marrying for contract is so old fashioned. Isn’t it supposed to be about love, or some bullshit?”

“Do you wanna fall in love, Prince ~?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“How romantic ~!”

“Shut up.”

“All jokes aside, I’m sure you’ll get to travel for joy one day. Maybe even with the love of your life ~” you continued to tease heavily as you poked his arms.

“Stop it!”

Just in time, Jin swooped in with his catch of the night in his mouth. Like an excited puppy showing you the toy he fetched, he dropped an entire tree a ways in front of you. Jin’s eyes glistened proudly as he waited for someone’s approval.

“Whoa…” you gasped, quickly scribbling this down in your notebook.

Changbin on the other hand sighed tiredly as if he experienced this too many times before. “Good job, Jin,” he said robotically. “You better throw that away.”

Jin let out a purr or content growl of some sorts and once again flew away with the tree stump. Just past the village, he dropped off the tree like it was garbage and flew beyond the valleys as if he was flying to find where the sun had gone.

“Sorry about that. He usually brings home his catch and eats it in front of me. Guess he really was trying to impress you.”

“I’m definitely impressed all right.” You turned your notebook around to show the embarrassed Prince your drawing of a happy Jin with his tree. “What a scene, huh?”

“Mm. Cute.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said get up, I wanna go home.”

Sourly, though with a smile on your lips, you followed the grumpy Prince back to the village. By the time you arrived, it seemed that the townspeople had packed up their shops for the night and went home to their families. Had you and Changbin really been out for that long?

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

“I can walk back by myself.”

“It’s that inn isn’t it?” You followed Changbin’s finger pointing to the building not too far behind you.

“How did you…?”

“It’s the farthest from the castle. Figured you wouldn’t want to see my face often for however long you’re staying.”

“You’re smart.”

A smug Changbin led you the couple blocks down in front of your inn. Before you headed inside, you turned to him to say goodnight, but he interjected.

“There’s a festival in a couple of days,” he said. “It’s to celebrate the birth of the dragon eggs. She’ll fly and carry her eggs to a special nest on the field. The whole village participates.”

“Whoa, really!?” you gasped, eyes sparkling. “I’ve never been to an egg hatching or a dragon festival.”

“I’ll pick you up at 6:00pm.”

“You want to go with me?” You could feel your cheeks blush deeply. Aren’t festivals like a couple thing?

“That’s not what I said,” he mumbled. Before you could tease him directly about it, he was already walking back to the castle. “Don’t be late.”

“Goodnight, Changbin!” you called out.

He liked how you said his name. “Goodnight, _____.”

Between your last study session with Changbin and the day of the festival, you took the time to study the townspeople as they prepared for the egg hatching. It was total chaos, in the most organized way, as everyone scurried around the village to hang all of the flowers, baked all of the goods, and cooked only the finest cuts of meat. It was a colorful festival, despite Queenie and her babies being completely black, but the contrast would a beautiful sight to see. Beyond the town, in the fields where you and Changbin would wait for Jin to finish eating, the area was scattered with the same flowers in the shape of a circle. Sort of like they were preparing for a ritual. Candles and tiny flames joined the flowers so everyone could get a clear look.

You suddenly felt under dressed for the occasion, or at least under accessorized, so you bought a few things in town to spice up your look a bit. Somehow you knew the whole village knew about how much you and Changbin have been hanging out since you arrived by both the teasing looks you received from the men in town and the sour ones the ladies gave you. Did Changbin post that he was picking you up at six all over town, or something?

You continued to walk around town and enjoy the festive atmosphere in your get up because you weren’t going to wait at the inn until Changbin picked you up like some cheap date. Your time alone without having to worry about the quality of your notes or whether or not Changbin was just tricking you and waiting for the right moment to kidnap you again was the most peace you had since you left home on your journey. But it was quickly interrupted when someone harshly bumped into you.

“Ow! What the -!”

“Swearing is unladylike ~” Changbin teased.

“Yeah? Shut the fu -”

He shoved one of those yummy fish pastries filled with chocolate into your mouth to shut you up. If it was any other person, you’re sure you’d be biting their head off, but you can’t do that to the Prince in public, right? Besides, the bread was really good, so you can’t complain.

“I thought you were going to pick me up at six?” you asked.

“I wasn’t on my way to pick you up just now.”

“What are you doing then?”

“Can’t a Prince walk around the festival in peace?”

“Don’t snap at me when you’re the one who bumped into me!”

The Prince only shrugged, not really caring to argue. Were you supposed to follow him or leave him alone? You wished he’d be a little more transparent with you, just a little. But as you decided to follow him, it seemed that he didn’t mind your presence, anyways, so you just stayed with him. You hadn’t gotten a good look at what he was wearing until now. Normally, his clothes were almost all black, with the exception of his tan fur and silver chains. Tonight, though, he still wore all black and the finest leather money can buy along with some royal purple handkerchief thingies and some other pieces of clothing you couldn’t name. His rings and jewelry were still rubies and silver, but tonight they were bigger and better.

“You don’t wear a crown or a robe or have a bejeweled cane with you to bring to these events?” you mocked.

“No… At least not until I’m King. Why, do I look bad?” he asked, genuinely curious about what you thought about his ensemble.

“You look good,” you answered honestly. “Noble, but modest. Purple and red really suit you.”

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly then cleared his throat. “You look… different.”

Oh, God. Have boys always been this stupid? “I bought some stuff in the market today. I thought I should look a little nice for this occasion.”

“I mean for once you don’t look like a total nerd who studies for twenty hours a day. So I guess you look nice,” he muttered.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” you teased, leaning in closer. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I’m not saying it again.” In an instant, everyone around you started to carefully jog or speed walk towards the open field. “It must be almost time.”

You and Changbin got lost in the sea of people running like a school of fish swimming in a stream. There were moments when you’d lose sight of the Prince and you were a bit scared, but as if he read your mind, he found his way to you and grabbed your hand. Like in those fairy tales your father read to you as a kid, time seemed to move in slow motion when your hand was in his. His hands were cold - only fitting for someone like him - but they were soft, and you found yourself laughing as you continued to run. By the time you reached the circle of people, you were out of breath and his hands were warm. Naturally, the people opened up the circle to let their Prince in. After the chaos of running and weaving, you both made it to the center of the circle where the King, the Queen, and a mother dragon with her hatching babies were. Changbin still kept his hold on you.

The sea of people were far away from Queenie to give them some space. Every so often, she would wiggle and move about because her eggs would. When she knew it was time, she removed herself from the makeshift nest and waited patiently with the townspeople for all four of them to hatch. Pieces of black eggshells would pop off here and there and each time Changbin could feel you grip onto his hand a little tighter.

“You’re cutting off my blood flow,” he said.

Immediately, you let go. “Sorry! I’m just so excited! This is incredible!!”

“It is.”

The entire village was silent when the first baby made her grand entrance. She used her wings to break open the shell to reveal her healthy self and then hopped her way towards her mother. The village erupted in loud cheers and cries, rooting for the other three to hurry and break free, too. You joined in with the crowd like you were watching a joust and Changbin couldn’t help but think you were kind of adorable. He didn’t hold back his smile when you caught him looking.

“What?” you screamed over the crowd.

“Nothing,” he told you. “Don’t look at me, you’re missing it.”

When you turned to look, the other three began to wiggle in their shells and crack the surface. The second baby wasn’t quite as black - you’d argue that he was a dark blue (“Are you out of your mind, he’s totally black!” “Your Highness, with all due respect, you’re an idiot. He’s midnight blue!”). The third one watched his older sister. Truly, the first three were all as extraordinary as each other, but none could outdo their youngest sister. She was a moonlight white.

The townspeople are hushed silent at the sight of the youngest pearl. She was incredibly beautiful, a starking contrast against her siblings and mother. You tried your best to hold back your tears, but when the mother rejoined her babies, you couldn’t help it. They chirped and chittered as they attempted to fly for the very first time. Number one had it down as if she hadn’t just been born and led the way while two and three followed. Precious little pearl struggled a bit, but after mom gave her a little nudge, she was up and flying with the rest of them.

“Why are you crying?”

Changbin looked at you quite concerned. Well, maybe concerned wasn’t the right word - it was more of a ‘what the fuck was happening’ kind of expression. He was never good with feelings and stuff, but you already knew that.

“I don’t know! It’s just beautiful, isn’t it?”

Even through your tears, your smile was still as bright as the setting sun. Your true, passionate love for dragons was glowing golden tonight, and Changbin couldn’t believe that he ever doubted you for a second. Though you were smiling, he didn’t like seeing you cry, even if they were happy tears. He held a hand up to your cheek and lightly brushed away the tears.

“Stop crying,” he said sternly.

“S-Sorry. I get a little emotional when it comes to dragons. Can you tell?”

“I had no idea.”

You took advantage of the moment and dared to grab Changbin’s hand once more. When he didn’t pull away, you took it as a good sign and went a step further. For the remainder of the festival, until the rays of the sun could no longer be seen, you held the Prince’s hand and rested your head on his shoulder. Then His Highness did the unthinkable by resting his cheek on your head.

“Are you starting to like me, Prince?”

“In your dreams, Professor.”

“I’ll get you to admit it one day.”

“Try me.”

Changbin found himself at your doorstep so often that you were so quick to dismiss it and it all felt normal. Whether it be while studying the dragons or simply walking through the village, you spent almost every day the His Highness. At first, the stares and glares were hard to ignore, but when Changbin returned the gesture, the townspeople pretended to not know you at all. What a gentleman, right?

“Just say that you like me, Changbin.”

“I’d rather die.”

“Come on, I don’t even mean it like that, you know! Just admit that your judgement was wrong, that you apologize for kidnapping me, and that you’re begging on your knees for my forgiveness. It’s not that hard.”

“I’m not apologizing for being protective of my dragons.”

“Ok, fair enough. But I didn’t deserve such a forceful kidnapping.”

“I agree, but I’m still not apologizing.”

“You are impossible.”

It was all fun and games until you asked to see the last dragon. Changbin thought - hoped - he’d never have to see that day.

“You’re ready to see him? Finally,” he said.

“Yeah. I figured I can’t stay in your Kingdom forever, right?”

There’s a touch of sadness in your tone but Changbin didn’t question it. “Right.”

When you were ready to set off for the farthest cave in the mountains, You made sure to dress properly and even doubled up on the furs. With your notebooks packed, blood on your neck, and magic cream on hand, you were ready to see the Mighty Dragon.

“You look ridiculous,” Changbin teased.

“You told me I was under dressed last time! You’re so hard to satisfy… And coming from the man who strictly wears leather? Please.”

“Hey, the leather is so I can fly, ok? The scales don’t tear it up as easily as other fabrics!”

The cave was so far that it took almost half a day to arrive there. The cave wasn’t that special - it was neither too deep nor too shallow, neither too dark nor did it lack light. It was the ideal cave for a dragon.

Before entering, Changbin held his arm out to block you from entering.

“Stay behind me. He doesn’t like strangers.”

You nodded slowly, too afraid to speak. You kept your distance from the prince as he led you to the biggest dragon you’ve ever seen. Right in the center of the cave was a large, emerald green, sleeping dragon. The most striking feature about him was that he had whiskers that looked like they were made of gold. Needless to say, you were terrified of the Mighty Beast. So terrified that you couldn’t even buck up the courage to take notes.

As if he could smell your fear, his beady eyes snapped open and all you saw was black. No depth, not reflection, no emotion. Just black.

A loud, piercing screech comes out of the serpent’s mouth that vibrated the entire range. You’re sure there was an avalanche happening somewhere. His eyes seemed to ignore Changbin, who tried blocking you with his body, but it was no use. The dragon only saw you, an intruder.

Rising from ashes, he got up from his sleeping position and looked like he was ready to attack.

“It’s ok,” Changbin said, trying to ease the dragon’s nerves.

It was no use. In a second, the cave went up in flames. Uncontrolled, random balls of fire shot in any and every direction and if you and Changbin didn’t get out fast, you’d be mixed in with the ashes that flew with the wind.

“Get down!”

Changbin pushed you to the stone floor and all of your belongings went flying. Your snacks, the notebooks, and the magic creme were lost somewhere at the edge of the cave that you’d hope to find later. For now, you needed to focus on making sure Changbin was ok as he hovered over you with fire just centimeters behind him.

The Mighty Dragon let out one last screech before his grande finale.

“Ah, fuck!”

Changbin pulled his arm to his chest and you saw that the leather that once covered it had been completely burned off along with his skin. His arm was scorching like cooked meat and you can only imagine how much pain he’s in.

“Ch-Changbin…!”

All of the fire subsided. The snow that was once there evaporated and the cave was now completely dry. The Emerald Serpent no longer had any interest in either of you and flew out of the cave to only God knows where. The only thing that could be heard were your quiet sobs that echoed in the cave.

The Prince was still on top of you, shielding your body, not saying a word.

“Changbin…?”

“Hm?”

The boy rolled off of you and laid on the cold stone floor right next to you. His breathing was heavy, but all that mattered to you was that he was breathing. As you turned to look at him, Changbin was already looking at you.

“Are you ok?” he asked you.

“I-I think so. You…?”

The cocky Prince held up his flaming red arm as if it was nothing. “Yeah. Normal dragon tamer things.”

“Holy shit… Oh, my creme!”

Your legs were weak for whatever reason. Was your body too terrified to move? You struggled to crawl to the jar of creme that was now half empty and made your way back to an exhausted Prince who kept his eyes shut.

“Take your shirt off.”

“I’m fine.”

“Changbin, please,” you begged.

He couldn’t seem to resist your worried tone, so he did as he was told, even if it meant freezing for a little while. After peeling all of his layers, you were left with a Prince in a sleeveless shirt and a gnarly burn all because he was protecting you. You took hold of his burned arm and slathered your parents’ magic creme made for occasions like this.

“Ah, cold ~” he whined cutely.

“S-Sorry,” you sniffled.

Changbin’s eyes snapped to get a good look at your face since you entered the cave. You were crying. You were worried about him. And you were blaming yourself. You didn’t even notice the burn mark you had on your own cheek.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Why are you crying?”

“You got burned because of me.”

“I get burned all the time.” After you finished putting the creme on, he turned show you his shoulder blades that had tiny little burn stripes like a tiger. “This was from the Mother dragon. I got a little too close to the eggs once. And this one,” he showed you one on his rib cage. “From Jin when I first got him. Now I have one from each of them. I should be thanking you.”

He was able to crack a weak smile from you, but even then the tears kept on falling. He really shouldn’t be grinning at the sight of you crying, but you were just too cute. Did you care about him that much?

His hand cupped one the cheek with the burn mark and wiped away the tears.

“Stop crying.”

And you did. “Ok.”

“Give me that creme.” When you handed it to him, he took a small dollop and smeared it on your cheek. “Did you even know you got burned, Professor?”

“Really? Is it bad?”

“No, but it makes you look bad ass. You should take care of yourself once in a while, you know?” he teased. “What is this stuff anyways?”

“My parents made this magic creme that only they have the recipe for. It’s supposed to work on almost everything.”

“An apothecary’s magic creme? That’s the strong shit. No wonder my arm feels better.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’m fine. Let’s just go back, ok? Before he comes back.”

Changbin helped you pack up your fallen belongings and guided you home in the cold. You developed a newfound appreciation for the cold. Around the halfway point, the brave Prince dared to hold your hand.

“Stop thinking about it,” he said, referring to his arm.

“You’re so bossy.”

“I don’t like seeing you this way. I also don’t know how to be nice, so… this is the best you’ll get.”

On the way back, you talk about anything and everything that didn’t involve dragons or fire. You learned that Changbin was skilled in jousting, loved to cook, and had a soft spot for the farm animals. He learned all about your parents, your fascination with other creatures, and all things about plant life. You always joked about him not liking you but you somehow still believed he did, and now that he revealed to you deeper layers of himself, it really seemed like he liked you. Even if it was just a little bit, you saw it as an accomplishment.

You were finally back in the village fields come night time. The Kingdom wasn’t totally asleep, but it was peaceful quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” he began as you walked towards the inn. “What’s your plan now?”

“Now? To sleep, of course.”

“No, I mean… You’ve seen all three dragons. You saw the birth of four. Are you done here?”

“You mean am I leaving?”

He nodded. You needed a moment to think about that because honestly, you haven’t thought about when you’d be leaving or when you’d be done here. And you’ve traveled to pretty much everywhere… Where else could you go?

“I could leave if I wanted to. You know, I’ve traveled to every corner of the world in just a few years. I’ve seen many dragons, but none were ever like yours. I guess I could compile all my notes into a proper thesis. Get my book going.” Changbin adored the proud smile on your lips. “I think I’ll do that.”

“Do it here.”

“Here? What do you -?”

“I mean don’t leave.”

He knew he shouldn’t have said that when he saw your cocky smirk. “You’re saying you want me to stay ~?”

“Yes.”

“Because you like me ~?”

“Because you promised I’d read your other notebooks. You need them for your thesis right? Ship them here. I’ll help you write it. I can get you a proper study and room in the castle and get you out of that inn.”

“Wow, a room at the Grande Castle!? You must really like me, Prince.”

“Maybe.” He took advantage of his hold on your hand and pulled you close to him, loving the sound of your giggle. He wrapped his arms around your waist to prevent you from escaping. “Just a little.”

“Enough to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you, Professor?”

“Don’t turn this on me!”

“Say it and I will.”

“Ugh, I hate you… Kiss me.”

His lips were cold but soft, just like him.

#changbin #seo changbin #skz #stray kids #skz changbin #stray kids changbin #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #fantasy au #dragon au #royal au #HEHEHEH #it's like..... 2k of back story im sorry

[bettsfic]

We spend a lot of time appreciating you as an amazing writer, but even just from online interactions, it's obvious that you're also a great teacher. If you feel like sharing: any good teaching stories that made you feel great about undergraduate teaching / reminded you of why your work is important?

at the end of my first semester, a student, i’ll call her jessica, sent me an email saying how much she enjoyed the class and how she was planning to be a teacher some day, and she wanted to be a teacher like me. i printed the email out and put it in my journal. it was the first kind email a student had sent me, and i read it over and over.

a couple months later, at the beginning of the next semester, just an hour before i met my new students, i found out that jessica had died over break. it was alcohol and drugs, a party where she left and no one followed her back to her dorm to make sure she was okay. she was nineteen. i looked at her instagram, where her final post was a selfie with two friends, and the caption read, “i love college!” 

it’s hard to say exactly how her death affected me, but i think about her all the time. i think about how fragile life is, and about the toxicity of college culture, and all the pressures and expectations put on students, and how they’ll graduate with mounds of debt that will take decades to pay off. i think about how hard and hopeless it is to be a young person today. i think about the surprised, grateful faces i get when i show students the smallest shred of kindness or empathy.

this is my fourth year teaching and i’ve now had around 300 students. i have yet to meet a bad one. i’ve met students who have been pushed to their limits, who are exhausted, who are in the wrong place and have no idea, who have unchecked trauma, who are utterly terrified, who are lonely, sad, overworked, or just plain overwhelmed. 

once, i did a Q&A for a practicum of new creative writing teachers. i’d given them my syllabus prior to the class. they were surprised to read my lax policies, and one of them asked what i do when a student does the bare minimum, or maybe even less. creative writing is an “easy” class. inevitably you get the “lazy” students who sit in the back and work on homework for other classes, and hand in five dr. seuss sounding poems at the end of the semester.

to that i said, any student who doesn’t want to write is either overworked, afraid, or both. being overworked can’t be helped. college students are working to master their time management skills in an environment that doesn’t allow them to fail. but fear can be faced and conquered. i base my entire class around fear. they have one major assignment: write your biggest risk. i firmly believe your biggest creative risk ends up being your greatest reward. sometimes students aren’t up to the task, but if you build an environment in which they’re eager to show you the dark, ugly parts of themselves because they know you will receive them eagerly and openly, they tend to make amazing things.

i start each semester with probably over half my students utterly apathetic or even flat-out disgusted by the idea of creative writing, and i end the semester with a stack of self-assessments and evaluations talking about how much the class helped them not only see their own creative potential, but also to be less afraid to take creative risks in other environments. 

i had a student, we’ll call him alex, in my composition course last year. admittedly i put less effort into comp than creative writing, mostly because it’s not my curriculum or my primary field of study. alex sat at the back of class the entire semester, asleep, on his laptop, or talking to the people nearest him. he did not participate. he did not do the reading. he did not turn in his homework. he didn’t even know my name. on the second to last day of the semester, he turned in several assignments at once, and came to me before class started saying he’d done most the work, and could he come to office hours so i could get him caught up on the rest?

no, i said. i was too busy working with students who had been seeking my help throughout the semester. he took it well, and said thanks anyway, and in the end scraped by with a B-, mostly due to my lack of a late policy. if i’d had one, he would have failed.

i was surprised the next semester to see him on my roster for creative writing. it was clear he didn’t like or appreciate my comp class. on the first day of spring semester, he came to class high. at the end of class, i have all of my students fill out a notecard with their name and other pertinent information, and on the back i have them draw a picture. when alex turned in his card, he had only scrawled his name across the front, and on the back he drew a bird smoking a giant blunt.

the next class, i announced that anyone who came to class drunk or high would be asked to leave and they would lose their attendance for the day. i didn’t want to call him out directly. honestly, i didn’t know how to handle the situation. my mentor told me to deal with it head-on, but i didn’t heed her advice, and i wish i had. 

alex kept coming to class high. he didn’t do the reading. he didn’t participate in small or large group discussion. he didn’t do the prompt-fills or turn in any assignments. when he’d behaved this way in comp, i wasn’t bothered by it. nobody really likes comp. but this was creative writing, a class i put 200% of myself into and which i expected students to appreciate in kind (and for the most part they really do). 

midway through the semester, i ask students to schedule a one-on-one conference with me. it’s required. they get a grade for showing up, and another for doing a write-up of what we talked about. alex, like the prior semester, did not show up for his conference, or even write a risk draft for me to comment on. he sent me an email an hour later apologizing and asking if we could reschedule. the kicker: he began the email “liz.” i ask my students to call me by first name. i tell them at the beginning of the semester and again in week 5 when they inevitably forget. so alex had now been through 4 of my “the name you need to call me” lectures. and he still called me liz. and he had the audacity not to show up for his conference with no notice, wasting a half hour of my time, and then ask to reschedule.

my mentor was right. i should have dealt with it sooner. i shouldn’t have let myself get as angry as i did. but i replied to his email with a laundry list of things he’d done wrong, and i told him he was out of chances. i wasn’t rude, but i was very firm, and expected him to forward the email to his parents and the department and try to get me fired.

instead, a couple hours later when i arrived in class, he was sitting in the back of the room with his hood over his head. i was surprised to see him. it was the last day to drop classes and i expected him to be gone. he approached me as i was getting set up, and he was weeping. like blubbery, snot-nosed weeping. my first thought was that he was manipulating me somehow. boys who don’t get their way do desperate things sometimes. he told me he turned in all the assignments, and did the reading, and he’d do better from them on, he promised, and could he come to office hours? would i give him one more chance, please?

i told him to see me after class. during discussion, to my surprise, he raised his hand for every question. he was extremely off-base on most of his comments but i appreciated the courage it took not only to show up to class a weepy, tear-filled wreck, but to actually participate through it. after class, he apologized for having lost his shit earlier. he asked how he could make everything up. i told him i’d give partial credit for what he’d turned in, but he needed to come to a conference.

a couple days later he showed up at my office. i asked if he had a rough draft for me to look at and he said he didn’t, not because he didn’t try but because he didn’t know what his biggest risk was. i asked him to write an essay about how he’s struggling in college, and to use it as an opportunity for self-reflection.

up to this point, alex had been a bad bullshitter. before, when i’d confronted him about not doing the reading, he said he couldn’t because he hurt his knee. i asked what a knee injury had to do with reading, and he blubbered through an answer. he even feigned a limp, but later that day i saw him walking normally to another class. he had ridiculous excuses for everything. so when he sent me his essay, i was expecting more of the same.

what he wrote was not bullshit, but a blunt and honest account of all the problems he was having, sans whining or pity-seeking. the boldest statement he made was that he was extremely lonely. i searched between the lines for ways he was trying to manipulate my sympathy but found none. he was flat-out admitting the truth: he felt like college wasn’t right for him, he was far away from home, he thought he would make friends but he hadn’t made any, and his girlfriend was still a senior in high school and he missed her a lot. 

“it feels weird not having a happy ending,” he told me. “i kept wanting to find a positive note to end on.”

“sometimes things just suck. an essay doesn’t have to answer the questions it poses,” i said.

suddenly i got a different picture of alex’s life: he was depressed and alone, self-medicating with weed and who knew what else, and slipping through the cracks of all his other classes, where he had professors who, like me the prior semester, paid no attention to him. 

he told me he really liked the class, and liked me as a teacher, and he would spend the rest of the semester trying to be better. i’d had students say similar things just to placate me and then didn’t follow through, but alex did for the most part. he still struggled with due dates, but he kept an open line of communication with me, and owned up to his failures. he did all the reading and participated in every class. by the end of the semester, he was a different person. he told me his girlfriend had gotten into our school and that she was coming to visit him soon. he revised his essay several times, got an A in the class, and gave me a hug at the end of the semester and thanked me for my patience and understanding.

i think this story stuck with me so much because it’s about my own failure. i do my best to reach out to struggling students, but most of the time if you lend a hand, they don’t take it, and there’s not much you can do. i should have tried to help alex sooner, or be more firm with him earlier on like he apparently needed. i need to learn to be more comfortable with confrontation and own my authority in the classroom. but mostly it reaffirmed my belief that everyone is hurting, and “bad behavior” is nearly always the result of a bigger picture that sometimes we can’t see. 

#pedagogy #writing advice #Anonymous

[prorevenge]

Got my nightmare professor fired, might've indirectly gotten him deported too

Before this tale even begins, this is obviously a throwaway account. This is a big bitch of a story spanning two semesters, so I'm putting the tealdeer at the beginning and at the end for those who are short on time.

TL;DR - My French professor was so terrible that I decided to get him fired on behalf of my classmates. After he got fired, my partner that I worked with to do this tipped him off to an immigration agency to get him deported.

Last semester, I enrolled in an introductory French course at my university. This was to learn at least a little bit of French so that I could read French papers about French filmmaking techniques since I'm a pretty hardcore film student and I really love film as an art form. Plus, I needed some gen ed credit for my degree, so it made sense to take the course.

I went to the first lecture kind of dreading the course. I was in 19 credit hours, which is taking six classes in a single semester, and the class was 4 credit hours, meaning we met four days out of the week, every week. Very overwhelming schedule, indeed. Needless to say, I didn't work a single job that semester.

The professor, who will be referred to as Baguette because it's one of the few French words I actually know, began to go through the syllabus and I watched as the excitement that is usually present in students on the first day slowly left everyone's faces. Before I explain why, I have to address that this is the most basic French class that the university I go to offers and is really meant for people who never took a lick of French in high school. Like me.

Baguette announced that not only would he be teaching the entire class in fluent French with no English whatsoever, he wouldn't be answering questions in English at all, and if you asked him a question in French but got even a word or a conjugation wrong, he wouldn't answer you either. Attendance was mandatory as well, and you could only miss 4 class periods before he started dropping letter grades. Now, this attendance policy is unfair bullshit because we met for class just under 60 times that semester, meaning you would fail the course if you missed 8 class periods, which is only about 7% of the total course. I was looking around the class and people looked like they couldn't drop this class fast enough.

Then, he announced that not only would we not be using a physical book, we'd be using a free website online, a site called Francais Interactif. Now, this got some excitement back in the air. Textbook prices suck, and anything to lower the cost of education for students is great. You can even use the site yourself to practice your French skills, if you want. It's open source, knock yourself out.

That said, the site isn't meant to replace a textbook. There's a free workbook and audio files to help with aural comprehension on it, and that helped me and some of the other students pass some of the exams, but the site's equivalent to the part of a textbook that actually teaches you the material is extremely lacking, sometimes only having a couple of paragraphs about a really important concept in the language. In short, it gives you a ton of ways to practice concepts but almost no ways to learn them in the first place.

This would have been totally fine if Baguette would have explained things better in his lectures. But, as you'll recall, he gave them entirely in French, and in fast fluent French. So, picture this; you have to sit through four classes a week that you understand literally nothing of for an hour at a time while the professor rambles on in a language that you don't understand but are desperately trying to learn, and on top of all that, you can't even ask him any questions in English because he won't answer you and you can't ask him any questions in French either, because you don't know how to do that properly yet, and you won't for 3/4ths of the semester, because the unit that covers question words and phrases was arbitrarily put a few weeks after midterms, and on top of all that, you can't even really do your homework or study for exams because you have no fucking idea what any of this nasally shit means. Naturally, we, as a class, slowly started to get more and more frustrated as time went on. A few of us decided to band together and be friends and study partners to weather the storm. I'll call the important ones to the story R and S.

S was a foreign exchange student from Spain who spoke perfect Spanish and was taking the class to learn French for when she goes back to Europe. Now, we dug into what all other classes Baguette taught and found out that he taught Spanish, too. Perfect. We found a loophole. We could ask S a question in English, and she could ask him in Spanish, since it wasn't asking him in English, and he could answer in Spanish and she could translate that back to us in English. Now, you might be saying to yourself that this a fucking stupid and no self respecting educator should teach in this broken, shitty, ass-backwards way. You're right.

This worked for a bit, but he started answering S's Spanish questions in French to combat our little exploit of the rules. We were defeated and back to square one. We needed to devise a new plan, because most of us were failing at this point and we were stressed beyond belief.

R, a frat lad, and I, decidedly not a frat lad, became unlikely friends. He was a pretty naive kid, and he was a hardcore drinker. It visibly took a toll on him. He had a beer gut at 22 and addiction kind of mentally hollowed him out and made him flippant and emotional. The guy was super easy to piss off and he overreacted to everything. I felt bad for the guy and even outside of the struggle in class, I tried my best to be there for him. We were talking one day and we decided to meet up at the library and just theorize ways to crack the class to get at least a 60.

At the library, R was playing around on Francais Interactif trying to find the videos the professor would use for the aural part of the exam (basically, you'd listen to the video and copy down whatever the person was saying for credit. problem was, it was hard as shit and it was easily the part of the exams that took the biggest chunk out of the class's grade). He couldn't find them on the site anywhere and he got frustrated and gave up, so he started filling in the slots where you put answers on the homework pages of Francais Interactif with random words.

That's when we realized that when you do this, the site gives you the right answer regardless, no matter how wrong you are. Essentially, we now had access to the entire course's answers for the homework section and all we had to do was put one character into the answer boxes and, since all we had to do for the homework assignments was copy and paste our answers into a Word document and submit them online, we could theoretically do all the homework while knowing zero material whatsoever if we just changed the answers in Word. We sat for about 45 minutes and did the rest of the homework for the entire course this way in one sitting.

We agreed to not turn it all in at once so we couldn't get caught and we agreed to keep our mouths shut and only share this with people who wouldn't rat on us. Obviously, we told S.

One of the things I'll never forget about that first French class was that, during the final, one of the students started to quietly weep. Then, the weeping got louder, then louder still. The student was clutching his head in his hands and you could feel the palpable impotent frustration at his inability to do French correctly. After I finished the final, I saw him outside the class staring out a window in the hall. I asked if he was alright and what he was crying about and he told me he couldn't answer even the most basic questions asking for words for things like left and right and up and down and that was thing that finally broke him. That got to me, man.

Most of the kids failed the course, even some of the ones who used the homework exploit. R and S passed with a D and I passed with a C, surprisingly. The professor actually liked me, for some reason, and graded my exams a bit more fairly. Even still, I'm an A/B student, one in the Honor's Program at my university, so a C kind of stung my GPA. But, seeing as more than half the class failed, I counted my lucky stars that I got off easy.

I went to enroll in my classes for the next semester, and I had completely forgot that I still had to take another French class for my degree. I checked the class list and the second class you're supposed to take in the progression was only taught by Baguette. No other professor taught Beginning French II, apparently. This struck me as kind of odd, so I checked the rest of the French classes that were available. All of them, all 6 courses in the French department, were taught by Baguette. He was the only fucking teacher the department had. My stomach dropped as I realized I had locked myself into yet another class taught by the worst professor I've ever had, to this day.

This is class where the revenge begins, and I'm sorry if that preamble was too long, but I had to give context as to how horrible Baguette was. Even still, I'm frankly not doing him justice. His class was an artful trainwreck of incompetence, in the slowest slow motion available over nearly 60 class periods. And I had to do it again, only this time with harder material.

I had been keeping up with R and S over the winter break and S was going back to Spain, so she wouldn't be in the next class with me. But, I got R to enroll in the same section of Beginning French II as me.

Baguette passed out the syllabus to Beginning French II and it was the exact same as French I, down to us using Francais Interactif again, just in the higher chapters instead of the basic chapters. Now, here's the thing about learning a foreign language; you have to build from the basics, or else none of the other stuff makes sense. None of us in that class, not one person, knew any of the material past maybe Chapter 3. Most of us didn't even know how to ask questions. I did, so I asked questions for people who didn't, since S wasn't there.

Well, if you thought we bumbled through the basic material, no harder bumbling took place then when we started on things that have no direct English translation like y and en. When he asked students questions in this class, they'd just kind of look at him dumbfounded and shrug.

We got a study guide for our first exam and I was going to study my ass off so that I could get a better grade than a C. Besides a brief stint with depression my first semester that made me not be able to go to classes and fail one of my courses, a C was the lowest grade I had gotten at university. I must've studied for twenty hours over the course of a week before the exam. I hadn't even put that much effort into classes for my major. I got into class on the day of the exam, and nothing that I had spent all that time studying was on it. I bombed that test spectacularly, getting a 30%.

At this point, I was pretty much done. I was willing to go to my professor's office hours and ask him how I was supposed to study for his exams effectively, and his response is what began my quest to get revenge on him. He told me to watch YouTube videos. I don't know what it was about this that got me so pissed, but I was fired up.

But, that wasn't all that drove me to take the revenge I took on this fucker. No, what drove me to go after this guy was R calling me up crying after getting his exam back. He did worse than I did. He got a 15%. He kept repeating through sobs that he just wanted to be a good student and that he didn't want to disappoint his mom again. I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried at this. I thought back to that kid in French I after the final, about my peers and about R and something inside me snapped. I was going to get this guy fired and peacefully do anything else I could to ruin this guy's life one way or another, and R was going to be my Right Hand Man.

We met at his dorm and started brainstorming. It was about halfway through the semester, after our midterms. We both had a job, a significant other, extracurricular activities and I was taking 19 hours again this semester. We were going to need time on our side, a commodity that neither of us had, and we were going to need it quickly. We knew that the professor was going to be gone for a week at a conference right after spring break, so there was a two week window there. But, even still, we needed more time for what we started planning to do. I faked a doctor's note for two weeks absence and R agreed to use all four of his absences to meet at the same time French was supposed to occur and plan our peaceful academic coup.

Now, I knew I was eventually going to get caught from word go. But, I was so confident that I could get this guy fired before I would have a disciplinary hearing that I took the gamble, and Baguette took the bait. He excused me for two whole weeks.

So, you're probably wondering what we actually did. Well, the reason we needed so much time is that we needed time to both conduct interviews from the class as well as collect data on scores. We got a total of thirteen out of the seventeen students to make a statement about Baguette's performance in his Beginning French II class and all of them were negative. This was just in one section of the course.

Then, we asked if we could have their exam scores so that we could have some hard data to nail this guy with. All but two complied. We did some quick maths, and determined that more than half the class failed the exams, with most scoring between 30 and 50.

But, as it turns out, we didn't even need the exam scores given to us. We figured out that the online grade database site that our school uses so students can monitor their grades without asking their profs has a built in feature that shows the class average of every assignment that's put into the gradebook. Not a single assignment had a class average above a 50 except for the homework, which had a class average of around 80, no doubt thanks to the stupid exploit in the website.

Sure enough, I got tagged with a notice that I broke the discipline code of the university because obvious shop is obvious. But, it didn't matter. I had everything I needed to go to the Foreign Language department chair and sort this shit out. So, I did.

I showed the department chair all the data, let him listen to the audio from the student testimonies as well as gave my own testimony on the course. After showing him all this, he was dumbfounded. Not only did the chair not know that Baguette was a shitty teacher, almost nobody did course evaluations for French I, so he thought that Baguette was doing a decent job. He took all my evidence and gave it to the dean of arts and sciences and a couple weeks later, I get an email saying that Baguette was Bag-gone and that I was going to be withdrawn from the course along with everyone else who would've likely failed. Those who would've passed got to get a Credit Received grade without having to take the final. He got fired one semester before he qualified for his tenure.

But, that's not the juiciest fucking morsel of this tale. You're probably wondering how he got deported and how I found out that he got deported because of his firing. Well, after my disciplinary hearing got thrown out because the complainant was no longer affiliated with the university, I got more than I bargained for.

During his lectures, one of the few times he spoke English was after he introduced the syllabus on the first day. He had everyone introduce themselves and he started the exercise by introducing himself. Well, in his introduction, I remember him saying something about him being an immigrant from Venezuela. I live in the States (Etats-Unis for you Bonjour Bois), and some of you might know that we have pretty strict visa policies.

Well, R is pretty conservative. After our work got Baguette fired, we celebrated by getting some beer and shooting the shit. We talked about random aspects of the course and the fact that he was an immigrant got brought up. Apparently, R didn't know this and he was pretty upset about it. I tried to calm him down, but he went on a rant that I tried to politely nod along to while tuning out since I'm not really about that. I didn't think anything of it until a couple of days later.

He called me up and told me that he tipped Baguette off to a certain immigration agency for a "visa check" (his words, not mine) and that now all we had to do was wait. I was shocked. I didn't think this would go this far. I feigned that I was pleased with this but in reality, I was kinda bummed. Since he was probably here on an academic visa since he was a professor, he probably is going back home to Venezuela. I am glad, though, that he won't be teaching any more of my fellow students at my uni, because I wouldn't wish his classes on anyone.

TL;DR - My French professor was so terrible that I decided to get him fired on behalf of my classmates. After he got fired, my partner that I worked with to do this tipped him off to an immigration agency to get him deported.

edit: formatting

(source) story by (/u/ouiouirevenge)

#prorevenge #by /u/ouiouirevenge #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

[tessatechaitea]

Cerebus #13 (1979)

This cover reminds me of at least three different nights in college.

One time in college, a drunk friend of mine fell UP the stairs and injured himself. One time in college, a guy down the hall invited me to drink with him and he was telling me about all the dead cockroaches he found under his dresser when he suddenly just vomited all over the front of his shirt. One time in college, I snuck into the top level of a factory in Los Banos which was really just a bunch of creaky catwalks in the dark and I stole their fire extinguisher (I did not go to college in Los Banos. Do they even have a college?!). One time in college, a girl in my Steinbeck class told me all about this cartoon she was watching called Sailor Moon and I desperately fell in love with her (and I also started watching the cartoon and super fell in love with that). One time in college, my friend Soy Rakelson looked at me confused after leaving our Lit Theory class and he blurted out, "Why doesn't he just tell us what is true?!" One time in college, my teacher wrote on one of my homework assignments "Please speak up in class more!" because it was a humanities course focusing on American History, Art, and Literature and all the dolts who did speak up in class were business majors and idiots. One time in college, I...no, you know what. I'm not telling that story. Never mind. One time in college, I went with a friend to a meeting where they were starting a new fraternity and everybody who was starting it automatically was in but my friend just missed that cut off and when they held the vote, he didn't make the cut. He left hurt and angry and pleaded with me to stay after he left to maybe find out more information about why he didn't make it. When they asked me if I were interested in joining, I laughed and said, "Fuck that," and left. One time in college, I had to describe my Halloween costume to my creative writing teacher because she was blind (I was Alice Cooper in Wonderland). That same day in college, my Children's Lit professor just laughed when she saw me and said, "Great costume." I wish I had a picture of it. Basically I wore the Alice blue dress and smock deal and Alice Cooper's make-up while carrying the decapitated and bloody head of the white rabbit. One time in college, I got wasted on Long Island Iced Teas at the Portland Rose Festival with my thirty-something year old coworker and we wound up running around the deck of a battleship when one of the Navy guys invited us on. One time in college, I sat next to my lesbian professor of 19th Century American Literature at the movies where we laughed and joked the whole way through Demi Moore's The Scarlet Letter. One time in college, I read my version of a scene from Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest in the style of Shakespeare and everybody after felt too intimidated to read theirs. Man, some of these stories are really sad! And I've purposefully left out the thousand or so stories that would have begun "One time in college during our Warhammer campaign...". Look, I really agonized about the punctuation at the end of that sentence but it wouldn't have been true to the punctuation's job performance to put all four periods within the quotes! I just realized I forgot to discuss the Aardvark Comments at the end of the last issue. It seems the expansion to two pages has stuck. The only part I remember was Dave Sim explaining that because of his nervous breakdown, he actually spent four days in a psyche ward. So I guess he went way past just shitting himself. Dave's Swords of Cerebus essay reveals one important fact: Necross the Mad was based on Exidor from Mork & Mindy. The issue begins with a bird shitting on Cerebus' snout. That's a portent I should use more often in my roller playing campaigns. Roller Playing Games should also have a simple rage statistic. Sort of like a saving throw but it gets harder and harder to save against every time some minor annoyance aggravates the player until they simply explode, becoming so careless from rage that it reflects in all of their dice roles. Or is that simply what going berserk is for Berserkers or Barbarians? Plus, there are so many Roller Playing Games, I'm sure one of them uses those rules in their system. Cerebus is captured by some farmers and taken to a Priest of Tarim to determine what sort of sorcerous monstrosity he is.

Cerebus pleads future violence.

The priest decides to dump Cerebus in the foyer of the castle of Necross the Mad, a sorcerer who has been plaguing the villagers of Lower Felda. His plan is that they'll simply kill each other and he won't have to deal with them anymore. Praise Tarim! Sometimes I wish I had become a priest but I don't think I would have made it through Divinity School. I'm fairly certain everybody would frown on my constantly yelling "Pshaw!" after every few passages from The Bible. I probably don't have to admit this because nobody was around to witness it but I just hopped up to turn on the light and then danced around humming the theme song from I Dream of Jeannie. One time in college, I went to see Ken Kesey speak after which he and his (new?) Merry Pranksters performed a sort of The Wizard of Oz play but about climate change. It was such a train wreck that halfway through, my friend Aaron Voorhees streaked across the stage. Or kind of duck waddled across the stage since he didn't take his pants off, he just dropped them around his ankles. The priest of Tarim has a lackey take Cerebus into the lair of Necross and it doesn't go too well.

Yikes. I'm more evil than this guy.

Sometimes I run outside in the morning to throw out garbage or something and I won't put my pants on. I figure it doesn't matter too much because I wear boxers and those are pretty much shorts. But today in the early morning hours, I was outside with my cat Gravy (on a leash) and I was up on the little hill in the backyard under the tree which enables me to see over all the backyard fences and two houses down, I caught sight of the woman there running back inside in her red panties. It was pretty awesome. I told that story because this guy's confession of looking down women's dresses reminded me of the moment and also because I wanted to tell people that I saw a woman in her underwear. This guy also confesses to having "impure thoughts about farm animals" which I totally have never done except in a rhetorical or theoretical or maybe even philosophical conversation. What I mean is I've never thought "I wonder what it would be like to fuck a goat?" but I have said to friends "You would probably fuck a goat, right?" Necross the Mad materializes so that he can speak with Cerebus (after disintegrating the guy who wants to fuck goats or sheep or chickens). Necross, being mad, decides to prove to Cerebus that he isn't mad. But his proof that he isn't mad is just more evidence that he is. That's what happens when you're mad; you're not the best advocate for yourself. Necross introduces Cerebus to Thrunk, a sixteen foot tall stone golem which Necross intends to bring to life at some point. That some point is soon and not in the way Necross intended because in a few pages, Necross is going to be killed and do an emergency transfer of his spirit into Thrunk.

Okay, less of an emergency transfer and more like an accident.

The priest's mob rushes into the tower where Thrunk begins to smash them all into jelly. While that's happening, Cerebus decides it's time to leave. As he wanders away to more sane territories, Necross the Mad realizes he's trapped in the only reinforced room of his tower. But if you think that's the end of Thrunk, you haven't read Church & State yet! Aardvark Comments just proves that a lot of people were discovering that Cerebus was one of the best comics on the market in 1979. Reading the Cerebus phone book in one sitting never allowed me to realize just how quickly this comic book finds itself and begins gaining momentum. It's truly inspired that Dave Sim, by issue thirteen, has created so many wonderful characters and written so many gags that stuck for decades inside my head. And I'm not a quote person at all! I'm more the type who thinks saying something new and unique and true to myself is dozens of times better than puking out some pop culture reference that everybody will recognize. Sure, I do it sometimes! But when I do, I do it all M. Night Shyamacock style! Cerebus #13 Rating: B+. I've given a lot of issues A grades so I thought I would change it up. This one is actually probably an A as well. I especially loved how Thrunk complains about the bottoms of his feet being sticky after stomping all of the farmers to death. We all how annoying that is, right?

#Cerebus #Dave Sim

[randomlerson75]

Stuff people at my high school have said or done

• “I’ll just pretend I broke my ankle. I’ll limp a little”

• “You’re face doesn’t even have many bones”

• “Do you wipe your ass with your fingers”

• “I look cute though so I’m saving it”

• “They’re not dirty minded they just have a sexy brain”

• “This is not a good situation now. I’m not happy”

• *sleeping in class and randomly screams* “STOP!!!”

• “I’m coloring my weed symbol”

• “I stretch pretty violently I’m sorry”

• “I look like I’m more full of life than you”

•”I’m a good person” “haha ok”

• “I’m gonna round it to the nearest 11”

• “You don’t always have to swallow”

• “What a fucking time to be alive”

• “why are you harissing me”

• “That’s why you turn around and punch him in the face”. “I don’t have time”

• “You are the highest grade”

• “Does it taste normal”. “No it tastes good”

• “Why are we all up in this cold ass blueberry”

• “The sun can’t be that hot”

• “I could have overreached but that would make me stupid”

• “I’m all muscle bro, it’s tight on me”

• ”I’m a stripper that’s how I make my money”

• “You’re my mom” *talking to the teacher*

• “Are you high” “just get it off”

• *laughs normally* “you sound like a pedophile”

• “Pinkie ring until I roll”

• *about to jump off a cliff in a video for free diving* “push her”

• “Capitalism is ok”

• “It’s so funny how you can be alive one second and dead the next”

• “Change the m in marijuana to a j. Jarijuana”

• *teacher puts desk in the hallway*

• “He smoked water”

• “You can’t speak Latin” “Can you?”

• “May I acquire a pencil” “yes you may” “have a blessed day”

• “I’m going to write a book about how depressed I am”

• “God has forsaken me”

• *girls trying to stab each other with scissors*

• “I got a pretty long weenus. It looks like a penis”

• “My skeleton is twerking”

• *draws a skeleton twerking* “this is why it’s fun to learn art”

• “Why does he have eye holes?” “He’s a skeleton”

• “Don’t get my businesses ”

• “YOU ARE A WHORE”

• “love is so good”

• “Happy 17th day of birth”

• “You know it’s cold when you walk outside and it’s cold

• “why are you smiling like a creep Jess?” “That’s my normal face”

• “I’m living my best life, right here right now”

• *About thirty kids doing nothing but snapping*

• “Yes, I am very racist about smart boards”

• “I used to be like ;) but now I’m like :|”

• “Physically I’m here but mentally I’m still at home”

• “Emotions are like hurricanes. They never go where they are suppose too”

• “it took me a whole 27 minutes”

• “I would pay for the fire alarm to go off again”

• “Why did we get such a gay name like Florence”

• “this is my dad” *points to Albert Einstein

• *A REAL debate on wether to rip the clippy part off of mechanical pencils*

• “Not gonna lie. I grinded a friends marathon this weekend”

• “FINISH THE TEA”

• “You should know to never mess with another persons tech deck”

• “She has a thing against white people even though she’s white”

• “Speak of the devil. All white, what a fright”

• “You are a children”

• “You think a bull in a china shop? How about a bomb in a restaurant”

• “Me do”

• “I cheesed myself”

• “I never said I was going to jump you at Bojangles”

• “Knitting is VERY fun”

• “I’m not good enough, I’m great enough”

• “North Korea, South Korea, Same thing”

• *drops pencil* “NOOOOOOOOO”

• *light flickers* “excuse you”

• “You can make Australia bigger?”

• “Why don’t we burn people at the stake anymore for doing crimes. It was proven very effective”

• “It’s like I went into the pits of hell”

• “Can I borrow her crutches” “She has a lot”

• “You have arms?”

• “I was born thick”

• “I wasn’t sick I was drunk”

• “be a good person. Go go go”

• “Lotion and ravioli”

• “It smells like weed in here”

• “F*ck oxygen”

• “bring it back tomorrow or you die”

• “Tables are for glasses, not asses”

• “Stick it in between her boobs”

• “A lot of religions end in ism” “Christianiaism”

• “I just want someone to snort my ashes. That would be cool. Mix it with a little cocaine”

• “The United States of Australia”

• “Clark Kent who. I’m kidding, that’s not even Spider-Man”

• “Mental cheese”

• “Your blood is not supposed to make whistling noises”

• “Who sleeps on a Friday night”

• “A whole ass race”

• “that’s a sexy button” “I know right”

• *Screams* “and....”

• “Judaism is neither a religion or race”

• “Have you ever met someone and thought ‘wow. I would feel no remorse killing you’”

•“I hate this school with a burning passion”

•“Beep beep in your seats”

•“What is wrong with the world? The simulation is breaking”

•“What if we’re each other’s dad”

•“You use mental gymnastics to get around your head and get what you want”

•”You can’t just roll up to North Korea. You have to beat me in bingo”

•*teachers wear a dress and played despacito on the trumpet*

• “He’s a stingy boi”

• “A for anarchy? Dude i wish”

• “shut up I’m choking”

• “The snack the smiles back” “GOLDFISH!!!”

• “Where’s the pointy boi?” “I don’t know. I have the thick boi”

• “Dude. Fish can’t talk”

• “Stop taking my eraser” “it’s a ruler” “it can be whatever it wants to be”

• “A female vacuum is attractive”

• “I can love you but not like you”

• “I am mother gothel mentally, physically and spiritually

• “Mother gothel is my religion”

• “IM GETTING A COW!!!!”

• “It’s like Leonardo Da’Vinchi but instead it’s Leonardo Decaprio”

• “I wish I had some crippling disease. Schizophrenia would be nice”

• “I’m gonna kill someone for the rush of adrenaline I’ll get. I’ll get pumped, then I’ll work out”

• “Should I become an important political figure”

• “My cats might have eaten him”

• “Who else is trying to overthrow the government”

• “Where’s our kid?” “He looked at me funny and I had to teach him a lesson. I flushed him down the toilet”

• “I text Jesus all the time”

• “You are a saucy boi”

• “Your neck is really soft. Do you know that?”

• “Um. No professor. I don’t give a fuck”

• “Bro I look like a whole ass beetle”

• “You know? I’m definitely going to hell. But I’ve accepted that”

• “We need to go to the woods and have a collective cry”

• “Moths = whore”

• “Can we watch more food videos”

• “Just outlive the old people and health care prices can go back to normal”

• “Let’s just start the gladiator games again to handle population”

• “I’ll be Michael Phelps”

• “Don’t you just hate it when Nolan steps on your 69 Barbie head”

• “He’s so 20”

• “LITTLE BOY! WHERE ARE YOUR NIPPLES”

• “You guys disgust me”

• “I thought I had a good nights sleep but then I stood up and was like ‘oh no’”

• “you look better as an apple”

• “Why the fuck does it smell like weed in here. Mrs. Burch be blazing it up”

• “What is the coast of South Carolina growing” “Fish”

• “Why are we here on Halloween but not on Thanksgiving”

• “Even though I’m 18 I still might go trick or treating”

• “All minors should be allowed to trick or treat”

• “Tomorrow is not today, is it?”

• “ah yes, the glorious uno and dos”

• “I think Kanye is a crackhead”

• “Like. She’s not hideous”

• “Casserole and Gatorade?”

• “That’s what Google’s for girly”

• “this class has corrupted me”

• “You stepped on my fat”

• “What would Jesus do?”

• *Squeaks kazoo in anguish*

• “We’re going to watch a video about the depression” “weird, nobody has been following me around with cameras”

• “Approximately 50 minutes till ice cream”

• “Did you know heroin is not good for you?”

• “I have the constant need to fight myself and my demons”

• “what the hell?” “I know”

• “you are crack-a-lakin me up”

• “I have no muscles so what’s the point”

• “Flex on the legless”

• “didn’t that movie come out in November? Fifty shades of green?”

• *County music blares from another class down the hall*

• “I got a twin brother” “What’s his name” “Pj”

• “Keep the iPhone in your ear”

• “Super white red lipstick”

• “They just need a lot more dollars”

• “Don’t be like Anthony” “Isn’t he your son”

• “There’s a lot that needs to happen in the next.... today”

• *Plays bagpipe music walking down the hallway*

• “Say sorry to Billie Eilish”

• “We should make army merch”

• “Some of us have bitch lips”

• “Time is moco loco”

• “Alfred Adler sounds like Adolf Hitler”

• “Albert Einstein is my favorite president” “YES”

• “It’s winter berries”

• “She just unfollowed your ass”

• “Do you ever get so mad you’re like rrrrr”

• “Bear Grills filtered that shit”

• “The US army is trying to recruit us with socks and bandannas”

• “This dude tastes bad”

• “I’m a sophisticated retard”

• “It’ll get your heart rate up” “I think asthma will make my heart rate go down”

• “She was like egh and the he was like EGH”

• *Door won’t open* “DISRESPECTFUL”

• “if she wasn’t my sister she would be my baby”

• “Will you let me make love to an Oreo”

• “Directions turn me on”

• “I’ll eat you” “Dude that’s gay”

• “you’ve been had a 69 in here”

• “I’m gonna be real with you. Hayden is a whole ass lesbian”

• “I’m sorry that picture is ugly. Sorry sis”

• “A whole jump suit with pikachu on it”

• “He’s been birthed”

• “Ru Paul’s drag race has been dragged”

• “Imma sip some chlorine”

• “why do you gotta throw up”

• “suicidal dog collar”

• “I’m pulling out Murphy’s head ass”

• “you’re gonna be single forever”

• “Do you trust me?” “No” “why” “you know why” “I told the truth after”

• “I didn’t mean to make her suicidal”

• “I did it in the most respectful way I possible could” “oh Jesus”

• “it’s not my fault she had that much of a connection”

• “she’s a sly bitch”

• *dresses in a Thomas the train hat and plays Thomas the train theme song on a piano*

• “I’m getting better at this” “what” “this”

• “It’s just my master plan to manipulate people’s emotions and have many successes in my future”

• “How do you do that” “I just empty my eyes”

• “You know what. Give me my birthday back”

• “Bitch bye. Not even cousins”

• “they go away. They don’t putt putt”

• “why” “so you don’t die in a police chase”

• “are you a virgin” “yes” *throws paper* “there’s my virginity for you”

• “I’m not stupid. I’m just not smart”

• *tries to hit someone with a decapitated mannequin head that has swim goggles on and fake blood coming out of its eyes*

• “you ignant”

• “I hope she chokes”

• “I had to sit at the edge of my chair, feet flat on the floor and hold my horn”

• “I don’t want to get my freaking hair done”

• “he hates my moms guts” “yeah no shit”

• “ok. Can you go cry over there”

• “Fuckin Jurassic world”

• “will you please beat up my mom”

• *drops phone purposefully* *immediately gets scared*

• “I want a new mom” “then break her”

• “did you just say what’s frog juice”

• *freshman walk by* “oh shit there’s a parade of them”

• “that five year old king is a queen”

• “Join the ranks”

• “Garrett’s carressing the computer” “cool”

• “You’re going into my dragons mouth”

• “Don’t snap my crab”

• “Crab breaking black belt”

• “are you milking the crab”

• “Cameron buttered my lemons”

• “Mixed with god”

• “What’s the juice”

• “I’m your bestie and you won’t even tell me the juice”

• “Let’s amazon.com this”

#generation z #gen z culture #gen z #gen z humor #high school #quotes #2000s kids

[imaginedeux]

Catch Fire (P.P. AU)

A/N: POC f. reader, hispanic/latina, not sure where I'm going with this, but i wanted to get it out of my head. Takes place after Homecoming(?) Not my pictures, but my moodboard. I don't know any street names or school names in New York so i’m making them up as I go.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” An annoying voice screamed into (Y/N)’s ear as she took out the books she needed to turn into her next class.

“I’m kind of busy here Ed.” (Y/N) groaned, slamming her locker shut. Stood behind her was the one and only Ed Roberts, he was a random kid at her school that became popular for being a mile away from where the Avengers took down Loki all those years ago. He wasn't an athlete, he wasn't all that smart, he wasn't even that decent looking, he just took advantage of the situation he was in.

“But are you busy tonight? Cause I was thinking, me and you could go and check out that spot by the bridge. You know the one where everyone goes.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, with a smirk on his face.

“No, not everyone goes there. Only people like you go there, and I, thankfully, am not like you so.” (Y/N) grinned at him, before she shoved passed him, trying to make it to her last class of the semester. “This whole ‘I’m-Gonna-Bang-Every-Girl-Before-School-Ends’ plan just went down the drain.”

“Screw you (Y/Last/N)!”

“You wish you were!” The thing was, (Y/N) weren't popular either, she was a decent student, with average grades, she tried to get along with everyone, tried to be everyone’s friends, but besides that, she blended into the shadows when lights weren't shown on her.

“Alright, thank you kids for another amazing year! Have an amazing summer!” Your teacher cheered as the last bell of the semester rang.The students weren't the only ones who were excited for summer break, with the rise in fights, false fire alarms, over all negative happenings at school, the teachers were happy to catch a break. “(Y/N), since I’ll be teaching next semester’s AP American Literature class, I expect you to have read the entire reading list by the time school starts.”

“I’m already on it Mr. Simmons, I’ve just started on Poe’s Black Cat. See you next semester sir.” (Y/N) laughed walking out the door. She had to admit, the school she was attending wasn't the best, but it was the closest one to home. As quickly as she wanted to get out of school, she could feel the anxiety that waited for her outside the safe walls of school. Before (Y/N) could get her skateboard from her locker, her phone vibrated in her butt pocket, signaling she had a text waiting for her.

From: M.J. (my nErD)

Hey! Me and a couple of other NeRds (yes i saw your contact name for me the last time), are heading to Jamie’s Pizza on 53rd, wanna join us? 

Laughing, she replied that she’d be there in about 20 minutes, and that the contact name was true and it was staying as is. (Y/N) spent most of her summers as a kid, at different Boys and Girls clubs around New York, depending where her parents were working. One day her parents were working painting a couple of logos for Midtown School of Science and Technology and was dropped of at one of the fanciest Boys and Girls clubs she had ever seen, thats where she met M.J.. It was an accident really, (Y/n) was using the gymnastic set when she over flipped herself off of one of the trampolines, and almost landed on M.J., lucky enough for her, she was able to summersault over her, and away from danger.

“M.J., your friend said 20 minutes 45 minutes ago.” Liz groaned, leaning against the side of the pizzeria. Rolling his eyes, Peter squared against the restaurant, a way to get weight off his feet.

“I know what she said, and give her a break she's coming from Lexington Academy. She’ll be here soon.” M.J. argued looking down at her phone, hoping for a missed text to show. It was rare for (Y/N) to be late, but when she was, M.J. would worry.

“Thats an hour walk away, why did she say 20 minutes?” Ned asked this time, confused as to why any one who was over a mile away, would get there in 20 minutes.

“She knows her way around, don’t worry she-” M.J. started, before she was interrupted by someone yelling down the block.

“Sorry i’m late!” Looking up from his cracked phone screen, Peter saw a girl their age used her right foot to gain speed on her skateboard. She wore black skinny jeans, an oversized gray shirt, black Vans, and her dark hair up in a pony tail, with her black backpack on her back. “I’m sorry M.J., I forgot it was that time of the month.” She gasped, hunching over, trying to catch her breath, coming to a stop in front of the group.

“OH! Do you need a-” Liz asked, quickly walking towards the new girl, reaching into her back pack.

“N-Not that week! Just um, I don't really live in the safest of neighborhoods, and for a week every month the local ‘groups’ dispute over the lines they set, trying to gain more ground.” She explained, standing up straight. “U-Um, hi, I’m (Y/N). I’m sorry for being late again.”

“D-dont worry about it, they’re used to someone being late.” Peter explained, extending his hand out. “I’m Peter, thats Liz, and he’s Ned, my best friend.” 

“Yeah, Peter is almost always late, or just bails on us at the last minute. You two will get along great.” M.J. smiled as (Y/N) shook everyone’s hands. Giving her a look, she quickly changed the subject, trying to get the attention off herself.

“They need to open shop near my house, I’ll be their number one costumer.” A content sigh escaped the new member’s lips, leaning against the back of the chair. The pizza place was relatively quiet for dinner rush, only a couple of other tables were being used besides the one they sat at.

“Well if you went to Midtown, you could have this almost every day.” M.J. grinned at (Y/N), taking another bite of her pizza.

“I’ve told you, I don't have the grades for it, and Midtown caters to Science and Technology, which I'm shit at.” You argued, raising your eyebrow at her. Since the two girls started high school, M.J. would constantly try to get (Y/N) to apply to the science focused school. 

“You most definitely have the grades for it. You’re a straight A student, you’re taking AP classes out of the wazoo. You could honestly go to Jonas’ School of the Arts, and its only a couple of blocks away.”

“You're into Art (Y/N)?” Ned asked from next to Peter, who couldn't take his eyes off of the newest member to the group.

“Kind of, I’m more of an English junkie, and I’m decent with a pencil and paper.” She laughed, scratching the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Besides, the AP classes are a joke at Lexington, the only challenging class there are the AP English classes.”

“Which you’re killing. (Y/N)’s report on Alice in Wonderland  landed her a trip to Columbia University. She even got to speak in front of a panel of professors that loved her.” M.J. grinned, hyping up her best friend.

“How did a report on Alice in Wonderland, get you to Columbia?” Peter asked astonished. He knew of the book, but he instantly thought of the child hood movie, and innocence, not something that could get someone to Columbia University of all places.

“I really don't know. It first started off as an assignment for AP English, we had to do a report on a book from our childhood, and the twist was that it had to be on the psychological effects those books have on children.” (Y/N) blushed, messing with the charm attached to her necklace. It was a simple charm of a circle with a triangle in the middle of it, and it was attached to rope, rather than a dainty chain. She's always had it on, there isn't a moment in time that she doesn't remember having it. “The teacher gave us the entire semester to do it, and by the end, after visiting him so many times, he asked if he could send it in to a competition that Columbia was hosting about childhood books. After we came back from winter vacation, he told me that I had won, and was invited to speak at the University.”

“Wow. M.J.’s right, you’d fit right in at Midtown.” Liz finally spoke after a couple of seconds of silence, much to (Y/N)’s relief. “Even if we’re a science and tech school, the english classes are some of the best in the city.”

Before (Y/N) could argue, the phone in her back pocket sounded a familiar alarm, but her phone wasn't the only one going off at the table.

“Dang M.J. you’re right (Y/N) and Peter would get along!” Ned laughed, as the two canceled the alarms on their phones.

“Maybe, hey, i’m sorry to bail but I have to head back home. My cousin doesn't like for me to stay out past sundown. She says that it’s too dangerous for me to be out, especially where I live. U-um, here’s my part of the bill and the tip, I’m sorry again for getting here so late, and I hope to get to know y'all more!” (Y/N) explained, grabbing her backpack and skateboard from where they hung off the chair. “It was nice to meet y'all, we should hang out another time!”

“Karen, are you sure there aren't any 911 calls that I respond to? The only thing thats happen tonight was that old man having trouble closing the door to his bodega.” The friendly neighborhood Spiderman groaned, his feet swinging from where he sat on a random fire escape. It was a relatively quiet night, a bit too quiet for it being the first night of summer break.

“Unfortunately, I’m scanning through every radio frequency and theres nothing tonight. Do you want to call it an early night?” The AI in his suit asked, going through another round of radio frequencies.

“Not yet, lets wait another hour, its about to hit midnight.” 

“Whatever you say Peter.” With that silence filled the air, leaving Peter to his own thoughts. How would his summer change now that he was Spiderman? No more vacations? What about Mr. Stark? Or the Avengers, would they need his help anytime soon? “-Peter are you listening?” Karen asked sternly, trying to gain his attention.

“Oh, sorry, what’s up Karen?”

“Theres an armed robbery happening on the corner of 9th and Trent at a corner store, three armed men, and there seems to be 5 civilians held hostage. Four men and one woman. There also seems to be one person hurt.” Karen explained, as Peter swung away from the fire escape he was sitting on.

“That’s near Lexington Academy.” Peter realized as swung between buildings, his momentum becoming faster. His realization caused something heavy to sit in his chest, it was almost like a fear. What if (Y/N), was one of the people in the corner store, worse, what if she’s the one hurt? It was a new feeling, worrying about someone he’d just met, but nonetheless, he knew people were in danger and it was his job to protect them. It took him more than 5 minutes to get to the corner store, and it was a lot worse than he realized. The hostages, which none were (Y/N), were held up at the front of the store, using them as protection against anyone who would stop the robbery. 

“Peter, I sense that theres one more person coming in from the back of the store, I doesn't seem like they have a weapon.” Karen told Peter, scanning the store trying to find a good way for Peter to get in with the least amount of damage being cause. “Their internal body temperature is also twice as high as it should be normally. They also have a high concentration of Carbon, Nitrogen, Carbon Dioxide, Oxygen, and another unknown element.”

“Those elements are all commonly found in a fire. Holy shit! What if it’s the Human Torch?!” Peter wondered excitedly, trying to keep his balance on the telephone pole.

“No Human Torch here kid, but I need to you lead these guys out of the store. I can only help so much indoors.” A new voice rang through Peter’s mask, taking both him and Karen off guard. “Come on, these guys are getting restless, especially with the power out.”

“Wait!? HOW DID YOU GET A FREQUENCY INTO MY SUIT, NO ONE CAN DO THAT BUT MR.STARK?!” 

“For fucks sake, if you’re not gonna help I’ll just do this myself. Please, don't let anymore people get hurt...” The voice crackled to a stop. Before Peter could ask what the person was going to do, the inside of the store lit up in scarlet for a second before it went dark again.

“Shit.” He took that as a sign that it was his turn to take action. Jumping from the pole, into a superhero landing in front of the front door, he bursted in looking around for who was the bad guys. The night vision in his suit activated as soon as he walked into the store, giving him a sort of advantage.

“The guys with the guns are the bad guys!” The voice from earlier yelled, punching a guy in the face, before she kicked him in the gut, sending him Peter’s way. Using his web shooters, he hurled the guy into the street and away from the rest of the fight. “Come on!” The mystery person yelled again, using their forearms to stop a bat from bashing their head in. Natural instincts came through as Peter and the mystery person got all the gunmen outside, and away from the civilians.

“You go and make sure they don't go anywhere, I need to free the hostages, and make sure that there are police on their way!” The person commanded, kneeling next to the hostages. “GO!”

“Geeze you’re bossy.” Peter whispered, as he ran out the store, and in the direction where the robbers ran in. “Karen, did you get any information off of the person?”

“Only that she’s a girl around your age. But she was the one who had all those extra elements in her system.” Karen explained as Peter caught up with the men, most of them hobbling from the injuries they gained from him and the mystery girl.

“Hey, guys! Leaving the scene of the crime, really?” Peter asked, coming to a stop in front of the men running. “Why don't we just make this easier on all of us and-” Peter started, before one of the men shot at him, just missing him, “Come on guys! No need to want to kill me.” Using his web shooters, he was able to take all but one of the men down. He seems to know his way around Spiderman. “You’re a hard man to take down Sir!”

“Nah, you’re just easy to take down.” The man chuckled before he swung his bat at Spiderman, nearly missing him. “Come on kid, stop making it harder for the both of us.”

“I should be saying that, kid move!” The same voice from the store yelled before the street they stood on lit up in scarlet. Karen had to move Peter herself, he saw it coming towards him, he knew if he got hit that he would get hurt, or maybe even worse, but he couldn't. The blast of fire roaring towards him held him immobile. The roman candle eyes, also held him in place. “Hey Spiderkid, you alright?”

“M-M-My name is Spiderman, not Spiderkid!” Peter cracked, getting up from the spot where Karen had thrown him. “That’s not important, h-how can you do that? You said you’re not the Human Torch, but you have a massive amount of things you find in fire in you, and your internal body temperature is twice as hot as a normal humans, you can shoot fire blasts, your eyes are like roman fucking candles! Which could have killed me!”

“Hey! I told you to move! I can't cover my body in fire, so no I’m not the Human Torch, much to your dismay. I can shoot, breath, kick, and control fire. My eyes, I call them scare tactics, I’ve been told that I look like a hellhound when its really dark. But they also double as heat signature tracking eyes. I don't know what to tell you about the whole extra amount of elements and a hot internal body temp, those kinda came with the territory.” The mystery girl explained, crossing her arms across her chest.

“You know fire can kill people? Hell I get that they could have killed one person, but burning to death isn't a way to go!” Peter yelled looking around at the men that laid unconscious. He understands that she was trying to help, but if it meant killing three men, he wasn't sure if she should stay on the streets, fighting crime.

“I may control fire, but I try my best not to hurt anyone! I-I-I make sure my fire isn't as hot as it should be. They’ll wake up with a bad sun burn at most! I don't want to hurt people!” The girl yelled, her eyes glowing brighter than before. “I can feel the judgment radiating off of you! I don't hurt innocent people! I-” The flashing lights bouncing off of the building they were between cut her off, causing her to look behind her.

This gave Peter the opportunity to look at her properly, she looked similar to how he dressed when he first started fighting crime. Home made suit, most of it being a darker red, and black. The darker red striped started from a symbol on her chest, around her arms and down to her hands. Same with the bottoms, they had the dark red stripes wrap around her legs and down into the combat boots she wore. She seems to know that the suit won't do much for her, the protectors on her shins and forearms show that. Turning back towards Peter, he was able to see what she covered her face with, it was almost like an elongated turtle neck that covered her nose, and the lower half of her face. Her forehead was protected by a cloth the same color as the black on her suit. She covered all her stops, the only things uncovered were her eyes, her hands and her dark hair.

“Looks like that’s my queue to leave Spider-kid.” The girl shrugged, walking away from where all the police were. “Stay safe kid.”

“H-hey! Whats your name?” Peter asked before she was too far.

“Um, uh-uh, call me, Messiah.” The girl stuttered, answering the other superhero.

“Messiah?”

“Yeah, stay safe kid!” Messiah nodded, before she used her fire to blind Peter.

“Hey! I’m not a k...” Peter started before the fire that blinded him sizzled into nothing, showing him that he was alone.

#peter parker au #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb

[write-havoc]

This Is How I Disappear Ch. 3

Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Completed (story continues in The Flame Is Gone, The Fire Remains)

Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut

Readers 18+ of age only

Masterlists in my bio

Simon leads Chuck to the stairwell and they begin to descend. He pushes Chuck gently through the first floor doors upon reaching the bottom and they make their way through the meandering halls to a back stairwell that leads to the basement, silent the whole way.

“What happened, Chuck? What did you do, kiddo? Why is Negan punishing you?” Simon breaks the silence as they approach several metal doors lining a long, dark hallway.

“It… doesn't matter. I just… want to get this over with, please.”

Simon walks to one of the doors begrudgingly, pulls out a key, and opens it up. The room is small, just slightly bigger than a broom closet and completely stark except for a bucket in one corner.

  This should be interesting. I don't really know what I was expecting, but…

 “Get in.” Simon motions into the cell and she obeys.

“How long will I-“

He closes the door without another word.

  I guess that's part of the punishment, not knowing how long I'll be in here. This might not be so bad, I mean, I don't mind being alone. Sure, it's dark and uncomfortable, but it's not exactly torturous, is it? I guess I’m glad I’m not on “fence duty”.

I wonder what’s the longest someone has stayed in here. And do different infractions have different lengths of punishment? Like, “five days for stealing, one for not kneeling fast enough, SEVENTY-FIVE FOR FLIRTING WITH WIFE NUMBER THREE!”

 She makes herself giggle with her internal Negan impression, but it fades quickly. She realizes that she must be getting delirious from lack of sleep. She paces around a bit, letting the gravity of her situation sink in, and then sits down on the cold concrete.

  Hmm. Yup. This is going to get uncomfortable really quickly. I wish I had put on a sweater today. I could use it as a pillow. Or blanket. It's actually kinda cold in here. Jeez, I'm already complaining and I've only been in here, what, three minutes?

I need to keep my mind occupied. Think of something. I wonder what Negan’s men are doing at Rolling Acres. Maybe they'll plant more crops. There's room for it there. Of raise animals. They might be more successful than I was at keeping them. I wonder how many people Negan has stationed there. Would someone live in my old room? Sleep on that bed… Okay, I don't want to think about that.

A song, maybe. I wonder if people are still making music out there. God, I would love to play something again. I probably can here. The fences are far enough away that the dead won't be attracted by it. I was always so afraid to play before. Even at Rolling Acres. I wish I had my mom’s old guitar. It wasn't in the house when I went back there to see if she was…

I miss her so much. I wonder what she would tell me to do now. She always knew just what to say to make me feel better…

 ——— Chuck’s POV ———

— 7 years ago —

 “You okay, sweetie? The doctor said you can take your pain pills every four hours. You should be about due for some.” My mom is staring at me from the other side of the couch, knitting a blanket for her work friend’s daughter who’s pregnant. The tv is playing an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. I never really liked that show, but my mom absolutely loves it.

“Oh. No. I'm okay. I can hold off on the drugs for a while,” I’m not really in too much pain at the moment. I have my cast left foot propped up on our ottoman, with a few pillows underneath it for extra comfort. I can't believe that I broke my ankle going down two stairs on our porch! What kind of a klutz does that? Ruined my whole weekend. Now I have to go into school tomorrow and try to hobble around to all of my classes. I haven't even really gotten the hang of these crutches, yet.

Ugh. And now I'm gonna have to talk to Coach Negan about how I can participate in gym. I can't exactly run, or jog, or do anything we’re doing in that class. And I need the gym credits to graduate. Stupid me didn't get them out of the way early, so now I have gym class every day of my senior year to make them up.

“You sure you're okay? You're making a weird face.”

“I'm just anxious about tomorrow. I'm going to have to talk to your favorite teacher about an alternate lesson plan, considering my condition.” I lift up my left leg and wave my cast in the air as much as I can.

“Who's my favorite teacher?” My mom giggles a bit and I give her the “really?” face.

“Coach Negan.”

“Mmmm.” She nods. “Oh yeah. Coach Negan. He's so hot.” She fans herself to hammer her point in.

“Mom! Don't lust after him so much! It's weird… and gross.”

“Come on! You have to see that he's gorgeous.”

“Well, yeah, I have eyes,” I agree. He is a very handsome man. “He's just… my teacher. I can't look at him that way.”

“No, you're right. You shouldn't look at him like that, sweetie. Stay away from older men. Especially ruggedly handsome older men. Who have that bad boy thing going for them. And dimples.”

“Mom! Stop!” I exclaim, trying to stifle a giggle.

She laughs. “I'm just teasing!” She leans over and hits my arm playfully. “Well, why are you dreading having to talk to Professor HotBody about class? Is he an asshole or something. I bet he is. The really handsome ones usually are.”

“Not really. Well, I mean… yeah, he kinda is, but not to me. He’s only mean to the kids who are... you know, douchebags.”

“Why are you so anxious, then? He'll understand that you can't participate. I'm sure he'll work with you.”

“Yeah. I know that. I'm sure I'm not the first kid to break a bone. It's just that… just being around Negan makes me really nervous. I hate talking to him. It always gives me the hiccups.”

“Aww! It's always so adorable when you hiccup!”

“No, it isn't, mom. It's embarrassing and makes me want to die.” I let out a dramatic sigh as she makes an incredulous noise. My mom doesn't really understand what it's like to be awkward and quiet. She's perfectly comfortable around people. She never worries that she'll look stupid or do the wrong thing. “You've never really talked to him, so you don't know what he's like. He's just so…” I gesture my hands, trying to think of the right word, “ intense. He's super confident. And loud. And he swears all the time. He also talks with his whole body.” I throw my arms out and gesticulate wildly. It makes my mom laugh. “Being around people like that just makes me nervous. You know I'm weird like that. I didn't get your ‘normal people’ genes. I got dad’s awkward ones.”

“Well, you'll just have to think out exactly what you want to say to him and go over that a few times. Then you won't be scrambling to think of what to say when you're in front of him.”

“Yeah. I think I'll do that. His prep period is the same as my study hall, so I think I'll talk to him then. I don't want to interrupt one of his classes, or anything. And that’s the period right before my gym class, too, so it'll work out perfectly.”

“There you go! No need to worry.”

 ———

 *Knock Knock Knock*

 “ Yeah ?” comes Negan’s voice from inside the room.

Okay, Chuck. Just open his door and go through the speech you have memorized. It'll be fine.

“Hi, Coach,” I say after I open his door. He is seated behind his desk going through papers of some sort.

He looks down my leg at my cast. “Holy shit, Chuck. What did you do? Break your foot off in someone’s ass?” He laughs hard at his own joke.

I chuckle a bit. It’s kinda funny. “Uh, no. I tripped on my porch stairs like an idiot.” I hobble awkwardly around to sit in the chair in front of his desk, leaning my crutches on the chair beside me. “But, uh, that's why I'm here. I needed to talk to you about gym class. I can't participate normally, so I thought that, maybe, I could write reports on a sport… or an athlete, or anything you want, really. I could do a report for every class to make up credit-“

“Fuck that shit,” he interjects.

“Wha-“

“I didn't become a gym teacher so I could read fuckin’ reports. No offense, kid, but I'd rather have my nutsack ripped off by a chimpanzee than read fuckin’ book reports about the history of baseball or some shit.”

“I, uh..” *hiccup*

Ugh. Great. I really did not expect him to reject my idea. Now I'm all flustered.

“Look, you're a good kid. You're not a little motherfucker like most of the rest of them. What grade do I usually give you? A?”

“Uh, y-yeah.”

“Congrats. You get a fuckin’ A this term.”

*hiccup*

He starts to laugh at me. Ugh! “The fuck? You got the hiccups now?”

Yes, Negan. I have the stupid hiccups because I'm a crazy person and can't have a simple conversation without my body breaking down into a bundle of anxiousness! Of course, I never would say that out loud, so I just nod.

“Just hold your fuckin’ breath and get rid of them.”

I do as he said and my hiccups go away. Wow. That actually works. Good to know.

“So… what do you want me to do during class?”

“Fuck if I care.” He thinks about it for a second while he looks at me. “Wait… you're fuckin’ right. If people see you doing fuck all and still passing the class, I'll probably get shit for it.” He leans back in his chair with a perplexed expression on his face. He casts his gaze down to the papers on his desk and a slow smile creeps onto his face. “You know much about football?”

“Um. I know that they score touchdowns and that the quarterback throws the ball…” I shrug. That really is about everything I know. I'm not exactly the sporty type.

“Do you know anything about fantasy football?”

“I've watched The League a few times…?” I give him a little shrug, not really knowing what he’s wanting from me.

“Hmm. Well here's what we're gonna do. You'll come here to my office, this period and we're gonna work on my lineup and shit.” He shuffles the papers around and picks one up that has a bunch of names and scribbles beside them. He puts it in front of me to look at. “This is my fuckin’ team. I need you to look all these people up and tell me every-fuckin’-thing about them. What position they play. Their performances in past games. Whether they started or not. What the fuck is going on in their personal lives. Any fuckin’ shit that might say how they'll play in the next game. Got it?”

“Uh… Yeah. I can do that.” I think.

“I'm gonna take the shit you give me and determine who I'm going to play in that week’s game. If the players I pick actually play and do fuckin’ well, then I get points. If I get more points than anyone else in my league, then I fuckin' win the season. That's fantasy football.”

“That makes sense… I guess.”

“Good. You can start by organizing all this shit I have here.”

“Okay…”

“I'll okay this all with the principal later today. It should be no problem. I'm still teaching you about a fuckin' sport after all.”

That's how it goes for a few classes. I would do his research on whatever guys he wants me to and I would bring it to him, all organized. He'd pick out his players and fix his lineup for the week. It didn't take Negan too long to realize that this work doesn’t exactly fill the entire period. Especially five days a week.

“Well, fuck. I didn't think this through. Now I feel responsible for educating you and shit for the whole period and keeping you fucking occupied.”

“Uh. I guess I can just read quietly while you do your work…”

“You know how to play chess?” he asks suddenly.

“…Yeah. I can play.” Why is he asking? That's… random.

He stands up and walks to a cupboard on his wall. He rummages around until he produces a wooden box. “Good. I haven't played in fucking forever. No one learns how to play fucking chess anymore.” He sets the box down on the desk and takes his seat. The board is one of the kind that folds up and contains all the pieces inside. He opens it up, spilling the pieces on his desk. The two of us scoop up our pieces and begin to set them on the board.

“Oh, uh… I'm not very good, I don't think.” Why did I say that? I know I am pretty good at chess. Not that I've played recently. I used to play with my mom all the time. And my dad. When I was a kid. Before he died.

“It'll be a short game, then.”

We each take our turns, carefully making sure not to make any mistakes. I see his expression change after a few turns, from a smile to a tight frown. He is deep in thought with each move of the pieces. I admit, he is great at chess. I didn't really expect him to be.

“Checkmate,” Negan says, finally letting his grin back on his face.

“Good game, Coach.” I hold out my hand to shake his. That is just good sportsmanship. My dad would be proud.

“Why the fuck did you tell me you weren't very good?” he asks as he shakes my hand. “I'm fuckin’ amazing at chess and I just barely won.”

I shrug, not really knowing what to say. “I don't know…”

“Don't fuckin’ do that. Downplay yourself. If you’re fuckin’ good at something, own that shit.”

“I, uh. Okay... I will.”

The bell rings signaling the end of the period. Thank god. That seemed like it was going to turn into an awkward “Do you have self esteem issues?” conversation. No, thank you. I don't need the pamphlet… again. I gather up my things and leave quickly, or as quickly as I can on my crutches, giving Negan a small wave as I pass through the doorway.

After a few weeks, I actually begin to get comfortable around Negan. We talk about football and the league as we play chess during our class time. Often, though, our conversations go to more everyday things and we get to know each other pretty well.

“There is no way you were a nerd in high school!” I exclaim between giggles.

“I didn't say I was a nerd in high school, I said a was a nerdy fuckin’ kid. I was a chubby fuck when I was little. My family was poor as fuck, too, so I had no friends. Pretty much all I ever did was read all those same fantasy books you read now and watch a ton of sci-fi shit. And play chess with my mom.

“No way! You were fat nerd?!” I giggle. The thought of him being anything but the way he is now is just funny to me.

“Fuck yeah, I was. Then I switched schools and shot up 6 inches when I was fourteen. And started playing baseball. That helped with the whole fuckin’ popularity thing.”

“So you went from nerd to jock just like that?”

“I never really stopped being a nerd.” He pauses. “But don't tell a fuckin’ soul that, Chuck.” He points at me and gives me a stern look.

“I don't believe you! Okay, okay. Favorite character from Lord of the Rings?”

“Aragorn. He's a badass!”

“Uh. What's the name of the ship from Alien?”

“Oh shit. Uh. Uh... Nostromo!” He snaps his fingers as he comes up with the name.

“Okay. Ah! What's this from, ‘Of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most human.’?”

“Really? Fucking Wrath of Khan. Everyone knows that!”

“Ooooh.” I make a sarcastically impressed face. “Okay. Um… ‘All those moments will be lost, in time, like tears in rain.’”

“Blade Runner. Next.”

“‘Put on the glasses!’”

He laughs. “They Live! I'm surprised you fucking know that one!”

“It's a classic! Okay, okay. Oooh, I know! You'll get this one. ‘Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal.’”

“Hmm.” He thinks for a moment. “Nope. Don't know that one.”

“What?! That's from Firefly!”

“Never heard of it.”

“Oh my god! It's amazing! It was a tv show but it only had one season. But it was soooo good. You should look it up. It has hookers in it. You'll like it.” I laugh at my own joke.

“Ha ha, Chuck. Very funny,” he says sarcastically. “I shouldn't let you fuckin' talk to me like that, you know.” He points at me as I move my bishop.

“Checkmate!” I exclaim.

“Fuck!” He snaps his gaze to the board. “You distracted me with talk of hookers!”

  ———

  We're meeting in the library now.

I read the note on Negan's door. Really, Negan? I gotta hobble all the way to the library now? You couldn’t’ve told me any earlier?

I make my way to the library as fast as I can, but still arrive after the final bell. No one stops me in the halls anymore, though, because of my crutches. Negan is waiting for me outside the library doors as I turn the corner.

“This way.” I follow him to a table in the far corner of the library. The chess board is already set up and waiting for us. We take our seats and began to play.

“Why are we meeting here instead of your office?”

“Because I fucking said so.”

Jeez. He's in a mood. I hate when he's cranky. It puts me on edge. He goes to move his pawn and I notice that his knuckles are all cut up and bruised.

“What happened to your hand?”

“I fucked it up.” He snaps back.

Okay. No conversation this time.

Or the next time.

Or the time after that.

He hasn’t been himself for a few days. Something is up with him, but I don’t know what. It takes a week of completely silent chess matches before things go back to normal… ish. We still meet in the library, but Negan is back to his old self, it seems. I don’t ask what happened and he doesn’t tell.

“I'm getting my cast off next week, so I guess this will be one of our last games.”

“Why?”

I’m confused at his response. “Why am I getting my cast off?”

“Don’t be a smartass. Why would we stop playing?” he clarifies.

“Well, I figured I'd go back to my regular gym class.”

“This period is still free for both of us. Why does you going back to gym mean that we have to fucking stop playing chess this period?”

“I guess it doesn't, really.”

“Good. Because I think I need to kick your ass a few more fucking times to get ahead of you on wins.”

“You're keeping count?”

“You're not?” He caught me. I am keeping count. And I’m ahead by four games.

“You can't just let me be ahead?”

“Fuck, no! There's no way I'll let you graduate holding that shit over my head.”

“We're going to play the rest of the year then?”

“What, are you that bored of me?”

“No, of course not. I just always thought you were biding your time until you could be rid of me.”

“Really? You think I'm that much of an asshole?”

“No. I didn't mean it like that.” Did I hurt his feelings? I didn't know that was possible.

“I told you when we fucking started that I thought you were a good kid. And I haven't played chess like this since fuckin’ college.”

“Thank you, I think. That's a compliment, right?”

“Well, I meant it as one, so you're fucking welcome.” He smirks at me, but it quickly turns into a frown. “The fuck you lookin’ at, Brandon! ” Negan yells as he shifts his gaze to look behind me. I turn my head to see a boy from my class looking our way.

“Nothing, sir. ” He stands there for a few moments then leaves. That’s weird. I don’t really know what to make of it.

“Uh. What was that all about?”

“Don't worry about it.” Okay. That's all the info I'll get out of him. I know that tone.

“His name is Brendon, you know-”

“I know what his fuckin’ name is. I just hate that kid. Stay away from him, okay? He's a douchebag.”

I laugh a little bit at how Negan is talking about another student. He’s not wrong, though, about him being a douche. I hate that kid, too. He always harasses me, saying how good I look all the time just to tease me.

Negan rubs his beard and looks a bit uncomfortable. Maybe he’s not exactly back to his old self like I thought. “You know I would never be inappropriate with you, right?” he says quickly, as if he really doesn’t want to say the words.

I’m taken aback at the sudden change in topic. I know that some of the kids joke with me about my “extracurriculars” so they say, with Negan, but I never thought they actually believed it or talked with anyone else about it. I wonder if that stuff got back to him and that's why he’s acting so strangely. That would make sense, actually. He’s probably just been trying to cover his back. A male teacher meeting with a female student alone in his office could seem suspicious. But if Negan were to have an affair with a student, I’m pretty sure I would be his last choice.

“Yeah, I know. I trust you. I know you would never do anything like that,” I say genuinely.

“Good.” He looks at me with a strange expression. Like he’s trying to read my mind to make sure I’m not lying.  

“So… My mom wants to invite you and your wife over for dinner sometime.” I change the subject after a few tense moments because I really don’t want to dwell on that uncomfortable topic. I wasn't lying, though. My mom had been trying to get me to ask him over for dinner for a while. She said she wanted to thank him for being such a good teacher to me. I figured she just wanted to ogle him.

“Hmm.” He looks away, his expression becoming lighter as he looks back to me. “Yeah. I think we can come over on Thursday. Lucille will be fuckin’ happy. She loves meeting parents and shit. I fuckin’ hate it.”

“Well I'll be sure to tell my mom that.” We both laugh.

“I didn't mean your parents. You're one of the only kids I can fuckin’ stand. All the rest of those little douchebags were raised by fuckin’ big douchebags and I hate dealing with them. If your mom raised you right than she must be a pretty good woman.”

I laugh. My mom would probably love to hear him say that. “I should've had you write my college recommendations. ‘Chuck was possibly raised right and I can effin’ stand her’.” I make him laugh with my impression of him.

“You know, you can have a real smart fuckin’ mouth, sometimes.”

 ———

 “Dinner was delicious, Diane,” Lucille says while delicately patting the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She is very beautiful. Her silky straight dark auburn hair falls just past her shoulders and complements her icy blue eyes perfectly. Her stylish clothing flatters her petite frame and highlights her femininity. And she is the exact opposite of Negan. Quiet. Polite. Poised. With an air of nobility about her. I bet her family had money growing up. I wonder how she got with Negan…

“Yeah. That was fuckin’ great. We’ll have to have you cook for us more fuckin’ often.” My mom laughs. I warned her not to be offended by Negan’s language. Not that she’s against swearing to begin with, but Negan’s style of cursing can be jarring.

“You're more than welcome any time. You've been so good to my daughter, Negan. You know, Chuck doesn't have many friends, so you taking an interest has been so good for her.”

“Oh my god, mom. I'm right here,” I say lowly. I know my face has to be bright red since my cheeks and ears are burning hot. My mom gives me a smile as if she didn't just embarrass me horribly.

“She's a good kid,” Negan says while looking at my mother. Okay, guys. I am still here.

“Yes. You're a very fine young lady and I'm sure your future will hold great things,” Lucille actually says to me, smiling warmly. She seems so amazing. No wonder Negan settled down with her. Jeez, she’s so perfect that I kinda wanna settle down with her.

“Well I think it's about time for us to get fuckin’ going. Ready, babe?” Negan says to Lucille after a few more minutes of light conversation.

“I suppose it is getting late. Thank you very much for the delicious dinner, Diane.” Lucille makes her way over to my mother and gives her a friendly hug with Negan doing the same. “And very nice to meet you, Charlotte.” She hugs me, too. I've never really liked hugging people, but she is so nice, so I soldier through it. I try not to be too awkward, which is a feat for me.

“Nice to meet you, too.” I give her a smile.

Negan walks past me, giving me a small nod. “See you tomorrow, kid.” He turns back to my mom. “Will you see us out, Diane?”

“Oh, sure.” She follows them out to their car, which is parked on the street.

After a little bit, I walk upstairs to my room to get ready for bed. As I walk over to my windows to close the curtains, I look outside and see that my mom is hugging Negan and Lucille has her hand on my mom’s shoulder. That's kinda weird. What are they doing? It looks like they're consoling her, or something. But that makes no sense.

I watch them speak to each other for a few more minutes until Negan and Lucille get into their car and drive off. I change into my pjs and go downstairs to ask my mom about the encounter. I find her standing in front of the sink washing the dishes from dinner.

“What was that all about?” I ask.

“What, sweetie?”

“With Negan. Outside. I saw you talking with him.”

“Oh.” She clears her throat. “I was just telling him again how much his friendship with you means to me.” She continues to wash the dishes, not raising her gaze.

“Jeez, mom. You're gonna make him think I'm some pitiful outcast or something.”

She turns around and pulls me into a tight hug. “I love you so much, Chuck. I just want the world for you. And sometimes this world can be such a horrible place.” She kisses my forehead.

“Okay, mom. I love you, too.” I'm not quite sure what this is all about, but whatever. My mom could always be a bit overdramatic. “I'm headed to bed. Night.” I pull away from her and turn to leave the kitchen.

“Night, sweetie.”

 ——   ——

 Chuck is pulled out of her memories by the sound of the metal door scraping open. She covers her overly sensitive eyes as light floods the small room. Negan's large form casts a long shadow onto her as he steps into the doorway.

“Come on, Chuck. Time to go.” His voice is flat, emotionless.

Chuck slowly stands, stretching out her stiff limbs. As soon as she gets to her full height, she feels light headed. She tries to take a step, but her vision starts to tunnel. The last thing she feels before darkness takes over is Negan's arms wrapping around her.  

#negan #negan fanfiction #negans thirst squad #twd #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #negan/original female character #negan x oc #negan x original female character #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead au #negan x ofc #negan / ofc #negan / oc #tihid #this is how i disappear #the walking dead #negan / original female character #writehavoc writes #writehavoc this is how i disappear

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Revenge (extended edition)

So I’m sorry it got way longer than expected. You don’t have to publish it if you think it’s bad :)

(Warning: 18+ language.)

Revenge

Honestly, Agni’s always felt like he’s not really good enough for you. It’s nothing you or anyone else did; it’s just that he thinks you’re pretty much the most amazing person in the world, too amazing, and he… doesn’t think that he’s good enough for someone who’s the most amazing person in the world.

You’re the proclaimed “ genius-billionaire-philanthropist-player”. You had your first Ph.D at 14. You cured three type of cancer, one of which was how you two met- because your cure saved him. You made your fortune in tech - “real life Tony Stark” was on your Time magazine “Person of the Year” cover headline. You negotiated a peace between the two Koreas. You cured AIDS! For goodness sake. Peoples may have their opinions about how you seem to be, but your fuck-all attitude is so impressive, the Kardashian pays to go to your parties that were hosted without you ever showing up.

But him? He’s nothing.

No wealth, no fancy degree, no family worth speaking of - other than Soma. He’s just a kindergarten teacher for a private school where the tuition per year is almost more than his own salary. You saved his life, the reason why he’s not six-feet under but towering over most people at six feet five inches.

“Palpable eye-candy.”

“He’s exotic, we’ll give him that.”

“A kindergarten teach? Fo’real? That’s what The She IRL Tony Stark is into. Damn. I’m better than that and I can’t even find a date.”

“Pfft. probs keep that blond mop-head as a philanthropy trophy.”

“I wonder if he’s actually a pedo? Or a tranny, no real man is that pathetic.”

“Ay’yo ma, kill urself so I get a chance aye?”

“What do you call a male gold digger? A man whore?”

“Man-whore, man-slut. Whatev.”

And so on.

He hides these tweets, comments, gossips - whatever they are from you. Good thing that despite being the Tech magnate, you don’t care much for social media, other than what the trending memes is.

Until one day when he couldn’t. Even from all the loves and hugs and smiles he’s receive each day at school from his wonderful students.

“They’re funny!”

You insisted with a mouth full of strawberry starburst. It’s hard to imagine that the woman who brings fear on a world-stage level is his wife. Wearing long ebony hair in a messy bun, buried oversized sweater (previously his) stained with BBQ sauce, lounging around on the sofas, munching on chips, and cackling at memes he can’t understand, it’s hard to believe you’re the same person that walked out the door with butlers and guards trailing behind you.

That said, it’s moment like this that reminds him of how much in love with you he is - and the shame bubbles from inside him, clawing at his throat, threatening to spill over. The same feeling he’s been having since the media caught wind of the fact that you two are married.

He sat down behind you, surprising you with a hug. He figured that if he buried his face in your back long enough, he’ll regain enough composure to stop himself from crying from the sheer cruelty of people he’d never meet.

(You’re not surprised when he hugs you of course, he’s always been the more affectionate one. Correction, he’s the epitome of affection, love, goodness, and anything that’s GOOD^tm.)

(While you are, in short, an emotionless, semi-borderline psychopathic asshole and mostly an impatient bitch. If it wasn’t for Agni, you would’ve just blew North Korea off the maps with their own nuclear arsenal instead of spending months of planning with the joint forces of the South Korean government, the USA, and U.N forces.)

(You never once stop complaining during this time. And it was the God of Patience, personified as Agni, the only person who could manage to calm you down every time you’d wake up in the middle of the night, rambling about how much faster it would be to “Just. Bomb. The. Shit. Out. Of. Those. Commie.”)

(You still can’t understand why to this day, Agni refuses to accept his critical role in your so-called “peace negotiation” of the Koreas”.)

“What’s wrong?” You asks nonchalantly as you scrolls through your thousandth meme for the day. It’s one your way of keep yourself sane - the main way being Agni, obv.

“It’s nothing. Just work, nothing you should worry about.” He answers, resting his face on your shoulder, “but also, you promised me you’d drink less.”

“I did. I’ve only got two beers and half a bottle of mini-Jack Danny today.” You bit into a chip. Something’s off. He doesn’t usually brings up your shitty alcoholic habit unless it’s seriously too much, or if he’s deflecting.

“Uh, sure you did. I can still smell it on your breath.” He replies in a disappointed voice, his Teacher’s voice. The one he knew that you hate. Or at the most, mildly dislike. It is an impossibility to hate him.

“Whatever. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know? Grading some kiddie finger painting or something?” You snaps back in a bored voice, , expecting him to muzzle you with your bowl of chips in return.

Instead, Agni pulls away, you turn back and his eyes are just spilling with hot tears.

You froze, unsure of what to do. Your computer like mind immediately rewind itself and methodically sort itself to all events within the past 72 hours to see where you might’ve gone wrong to make him cry.

“Why did you marry me?” He asks softly, refusing to meet your eyes. He withdrawn himself away from you, tucking his normally large body into the corner of the sofa, his fingers tugging at the hand-casted gold ring, “I..I was never good enough to deserve you.”

“Whoa. Um. Where exactly is this coming from? Who the fuck told you something like this?” Your eyes narrow dangerously. Agni wouldn’t just break down like this. You’ve been married for two years to him, and the news has only broken six-months ago. You’ve made sure to silence the press so that Agni can transition smoothly - apparently you fucked up somewhere along the line.

“What? No. I mean it. I’m serious. Between you and me. I’m nothing. I’m not even as great as Pepper Potts, and she’s Iron Man girlfriend.” He rambles on, his face still streaks with tears, “I’m just a teacher for a bunch of little kids who’re lucky enough to be born into wealthy families. They’re the best kids. I just.. I don’t know. Im not a professor for a prestigious college like Sebastian. I’m not the heir to a title like the Phantomhives twin. I’m not brilliant in any way comparable to Sieglinde. I’m..im..nothing.”

You stares at him. Wordless after hearing the words that came out of his mouth. A strange rage that you haven’t felt in a long time bubbles up inside your gut.

You haven’t felt rage in a long time because you have him.

A familiar desire to kill something uncoils itself from years in hibernation. You haven’t desire to kill in so long because he was next to you.

All that was bad and evil and rotten within your are locked away because he is the sun of your life.

The light of your days. The guidance in your path. The reason you haven’t drank yourself to death or overdosed on some concoction of drugs.

And here he is.

The most beautiful and perfect existence in this damn planet. Saying all these bullshit about himself. The audacity to believe his own words.

Someone will pay for this. You seethes. “Who? Tell me who.” You calmly asks as you yank him towards you for a tight hug. You’re stronger than he is after all.

“No one. But it’s true, isn’t it. You know that it’s true.” He hiccups, resisting your hug. You can feel the heat from his baseless shame radiating.

“All right. Don’t tell me.” You clicks your tongue.

“Tanaka! Show me all of recent Tweeter, Facebook, Instagram, and others relates to Agni in anyway.” You yells into thin air, moments later, the house AI, Tanaka, responded with all of what Agni has been trying to hide from you.

“Why? What?! No! No please. Stop it! Tanaka stop!.” Agni’s head perks up, frantically waving for the AI to shut up to no avail.

You skim through the flashing holograms, your blood boils at the comments, and tweets, and re-tweets and all the shits you’ve always been too busy to care about.

If these had been directed at you, you couldn’t give less of a shit. But no, they target the only thing, the only person you hold dear above all else. This calls for war.

And you’re very good at war.

Agni sees that flash of cruelty in you, the one where you beat a man twice his size to death because that man dared to kidnapped him. The one where you casually placed a bullet in the head of a former dictator in front of her rogue son. There’s a darkness in you. So dark and cold and cruel that he can’t believe he’d forgotten it still exists.

He begs you to reconsider, and try his best to muffle the black fire he can see is growing. The way your eyes darken. The way your nostrils flares. It terrifies him.

And so he begs you to calm down. To not let your anger gets to you. Try as you might, your sole vulnerability remains to be his puppy-dog sparkling eyes.

So tou calm down. You tell him him that it’s ok, you won’t do anything. If it’s all right, you’ll just block all of these nasty comments from his social media’s. Better yet, you suggest that he go on a “detox”. No more social media for him, none whatsoever. For a whole month until this all dies down.

Agni agrees feverishly. He apologizes for making you worry - something which still slightly pissed you off when he apologize for anything. You carried him to bed, he blushes, you made gentle love to him.

And when your beautiful Sun is fast asleep with his silky white hair resting on your top-grade silk pillowcase and his beautiful body cozied under your thick Turkish fiber blanket. You kisses his him gently and leave the room.

And you wage war.

You tracked down every single IP address of every single nasty commenters and tweeters and posts and retweets to their live owner. You made a list.

You commandeer their bank account, their stocks, their saving, their livelihood. Everything that are of value to them.

And you burned it all.

Temporarily of course. Agni would be devastated if he ever finds out what you’ve done.

You decided to let these fuckers suffer for a whole week, maybe a little more the worst of offender.

When you’re satisfied with all your doing, you return to your bedroom, where the light of your existence remains fast asleep.

He has the cutest snore

You smile as you snuggle next to him.

#revenge tw #Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Agni #fic #reader insert #submission #follower writings #angst #hurt/comfort #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SWEET BOY #GO BADASS READER

[hey-angelle]

On the Film: “Bar Boys” by Kip Oebanda

© Bar Boys Facebook Page 

Sometimes in life, you have to choose whether you want to keep going or to stop. 

[ NOTE: These are my personal thoughts while I was watching Kip Oebanda’s film entitled “Bar Boys” on YouTube. Safe to say I was very emotional when I was writing this. I hope you enjoy and that this doesn’t change your view of me as much! ] 

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of suicide. 

Word Count: 2752 words

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Past 9PM. March 23, 2020. Day 9 of the Quarantine. Out of the blue, I decided to watch Kip Oebanda’s film, “Bar Boys” on YouTube. Honestly, the first time I heard the title, the notion of grimy pubs with strobe lights came to mind. I thought the film would be about workers in a bar trying to keep themselves afloat. And of course, I was wrong. The film was about a group of friends who wanted to go to law school. I, for a fact, once had the thought of going to law school and become a lawyer someday, after I graduate accountancy. Yes, I wanted to become a CPA Lawyer when I was in junior high school. I even wanted to graduate with Latin honors… I remember asking my mom how I can graduate with honors in college, and to which, she replies: “Mag-aral ka lang nang mabuti. Kaya mo yun!” (“Study hard! I know you can do it!”) Oh, if only the little 10th grade Angelle knew. Come senior high school, I already started questioning if I really wanted to take up accountancy. Law school then was out of my mind. I ended up taking up accountancy during my first year as a college student. Safe to say, it was hell. I remember getting a letter from the College of Accountancy telling me that I am qualified for admission due to my academic performance. If I recall correctly, only a few were able to receive such letter. I took that as my motivation to not quit; I rationalized: “Pinili ako ng college na ‘to. Papatunayan kong deserving ako na pinili niya ako.” (“This college chose me. I’m going to prove that I am worthy of being chosen.”).

           Now, Carlo Aquino’s role spoke out to me during the entire movie. He’s surrounded by well-enough friends who are smart and actually know what they are doing: that even if they don’t exert that much effort, they pass. Yes, I was like Erik Vicencio – the not-so smart guy who has to exert more than 100% but still ends up failing. I also had my parents, who served as my motivation in trying to finish my program; like Erik’s parents, they work hard to send me to college. They are approaching their senior years and I cannot recall the amount of times they’ve told me “tumatanda na kami” (“we’re not getting any younger”) which reminds me that I should not slack off so I can provide for them when they’re in their senior years. Nonetheless, they were supportive of me, and like Erik’s father, they kept telling me to keep fighting… to keep going no matter what. But every time a quiz gets handed back to me and I see failing grades, I feel so ashamed and frustrated. I mean, how dare I get failing marks when my parents work so hard to make sure I am comfortable in my studies? They weren’t even granted such luxury when they studied yet they were able to finish and look where they are now. So, how dare I fail, right? I kept telling myself that all this would pay off someday, that I’d be rich and be able to give my parents the life they deserve. But as the weeks and months passed by, I felt drained… like I didn’t want to fight anymore. I was thinking that maybe this battle just wasn’t for me. Maybe I should just shift programs already, else I’m just jeopardizing my entire future if I push any further. However, I pushed these feelings aside and continued the battle. Finals came for the second semester. Grades were out. And for the first time in my life, I’ve gotten a failing mark. No, this was not just a failing mark on a quiz, but a grade of 5.0. I had no one else to blame but me. I blamed myself for my lapses and shortcomings. That maybe I should’ve tried harder. Maybe I shouldn’t have fallen asleep while reviewing. I failed and it was all because of me. When Erik failed Mr. Cruz’ class, he wanted to redeem himself and would do anything just to pass. I felt the same way too, if only teachers would give out extra credit tasks from where I came from… but they don’t. Even as our grades were released, we had no time for consultation with our professors since it was already the break. And so, I told my parents about this failing grade of mine. Needless to say, their reaction was not quite what I was expecting. I only had my dad with me during this time, since my mom was abroad, enjoying her Europe trip. It was also during this time that I had made the final decision to shift. No, I wasn’t shifting because I had a failing grade. I was shifting because I felt like I deserved more, and I wanted to be doing something I love; me failing was only my “breaking point” or “trigger” since I’ve already had thoughts of shifting prior to second semester. There was this scene where Erik’s now paralyzed dad told him to do things for himself, not for them or for anyone else. Again, this resonated with me because the moment I decided to do things for myself, I made a life-changing decision… and that was to shift programs. That part where Erik’s dad also tells him that he’d do anything to fund his studies takes me back to that time when my mom called me all the way from Europe to comfort me – that she’s okay with me failing and losing the chance to graduate with Latin honors (in our university, it is a policy that once you’ve gotten a grade of 5.0 in any subject, you are barred from graduating with Latin honors). She even told me to stop thinking so much and I knew that was her motherly instincts working, because during our week of final exams, she was already in Europe and during those times (and a few weeks prior to that), I’ve been having recurring thoughts of committing suicide. Just thoughts, not concrete plans on how I’d execute it. I began to withdraw from my friends. I felt like extreme shit and that I was a worthless, good for nothing, and mediocre accounting student. My mind was all over the place. It’s a miracle how I still managed to do good in some of my exams. This is why when I was watching the movie, I’d get anxious every time something bad happens to Erik. I kept thinking, “Hala, paano kapag nagpakamatay siya?” (“Oh no! What if he commits suicide?”) because when I was in his situation, I’d get thoughts of wanting to end my life. Thankfully, he never does. And thankfully, I never did. It actually took everything in me not to break down and cry while my mom was talking to me on the phone because one, it would be embarrassing to cry at my dad’s faculty room and have his colleagues see me, and two, I wanted to remain strong for my mom, whose voice was now slowly starting to break. I told her about my decision to shift and she told me she’s fine with it and that she and my dad would continue to work just so they can help me with my studies, even if I decide to take up my masterals… as long as I stay and continue to fight. Up to this day, I still hold that phone call conversation close to my heart. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how my parents were so doting and caring during those times. I remember how my dad used to ask me if I wanted to come with him when he goes out just so I don’t stay at home and begin to overthink things again. Also, a few weeks back, I had been joking with my mom to get me a pair of sneakers from the Harry Potter Vans Collection, and on the weekend when she came home, she and my dad immediately bought me a pair just to console me (even if deep down I knew I wasn’t deserving of such expensive gift). I then realized how privileged I am to have them, and I will not take advantage of this. Without them, I wouldn’t be where I am now.

           Now, let me also talk about how the friendship between Erik, Chris, and Torran struck a nerve in me.  As I’ve mentioned earlier, I kept having these thoughts of wanting to end my life since I felt like everything I’ve been doing and will be doing is already pointless. In their senior year, when the three were nearing graduation, Erik has failed a class and will be delayed in graduating. However, despite them breaking out into a fight, Chris and Torran still managed to find a way to make Erik pass. Eventually, he does and is now able to graduate. During those dark times of mine, my friends were there to help me stay afloat. Their mere presence alone was enough, and like Chris and Torran, they did something that I would never forget. It was the last day of the final exams and as I’ve mentioned in an earlier paragraph, I’ve been withdrawing from my friends during those times; what they did was that they surprised me with a compilation of letters that they’ve gathered from my other friends. All these letters were words of encouragement; some were even from people I wasn’t close with, which really touched my heart. Somehow, this ignited the almost dying fire within me. I’m reminded that I am not alone in this battle because I have my friends. Honestly, the amount of support I’ve gotten from my friends in general during those trying times never fails to bring tears to my eyes every time. There’s this scene in the movie where Justice Hernandez (played by Odette Khan) tells Erik that his friends and even her – someone who finds it hard to actually believe in people – has put so much trust and belief in Erik: that he can overcome whatever trials he may come to face… and all that he needs to do now is to believe in himself; this scene reminded me of how many people have my back, no matter what happens, I just need to put some faith in myself. To give myself credit for all the things that I’ve accomplished and are set to accomplish, no matter how big or small.

           However, there were also dark sides to this friendship. In the movie, Kean plays the role of their barkada who fails the law school entrance exam and took up modelling instead, his dream career. Somehow, I now see myself in him. As a previous accounting student, I can’t help but feel out of place among my accounting friends. Every time we meet up, all they’d do is talk about their accounting professors, their accounting subjects, law, tax, and the like. While me, being the Behavioral Science major now, cannot contribute anything to the topic except the occasional nod and smile. Like Kean’s character, I used to be a part of the “main” group of characters, now, I am just a side character in the narrative. He even gets to the point where he complains about not being able to see the three anymore because all they do is study. And yes, I’ve done something similar. In fact, there was a time where I got upset and disappointed because every time I ask my friends if we could meet just for a little while to eat, they’d say something along the lines of: “hala, may quiz kasi kami eh.” (“Oh no! We have a quiz!”), or “Sorry, busy kami eh. Rami pinapagawa.” (“Sorry, we’re busy. We have a lot to do.”), or maybe “Quiz week namin eh. Next time na lang.” (“It’s our quiz week. Maybe next time.”). Even our schedules don’t seem to fit in. You know what I’ve realized with this? It’s sad how the people you’ve wanted to reach success with is no longer in the process with you. This might seem selfish at first glance but let me explain it: see, as a first-year accounting student, I’ve expected that I’d be spending the rest of my 4 years with them, to share and relate with their struggles, failures, and victories. But seeing as I’m no longer an accounting student, I can no longer relate to whatever calvary they’re facing. Yes, I can still ask how they’re doing but it’s different when you actually know and have gone through their struggle because then it would give you a better vantage point to what they’re feeling. In Filipino, nararanasan mo mismo yung mga paghihirap nila kaya mas maiintindihan mo. The mere fact alone that I can no longer relate to their talk about accounting signifies that the only thing I can do for them now is to ask how they are doing, how they are holding up so far, etc. without actually getting the whole picture because I haven’t gone through what they’ve experienced. Alam niyo yun? Iba kasi yung feeling na nakaka-relate ka sa paghihirap ng isang tao kasi ikaw mismo, may ganung experience. Yes, I can make new friends in my new program but for some reason, it’s hard because everyone else seems to already have their friend groups and I don’t want to just force myself onto them like that. There’s nothing that can compare to the friendships you’ve already built and felt at home with; having to leave so suddenly absolutely sucks. But fuck it, as long as we’re still together towards the end, then I’ll take what I can get. I don’t want to be the friend who imposes as well. Towards the end of the movie, when all four of them are finally successful in their careers, I long to experience the same with my friends.

           Of course, even as a Behavioral Science student who, frankly, at this point is not even sure if she wants to become a human resource manager, a psychologist or a psychiatrist, or even take up law after graduating (in short: I’m confused and undecided), I take into heart what Justice Hernandez has said to the graduating class: “Buhay, Kalayaan, at Pag-asa ang nakataya sa bawat batas at artikulong binabasa niyo o hindi niyo binabasa.” In the event that I want to pursue the psychologist/psychiatrist field in the near future, it is very important to me to pay attention to whatever is being taught to us in class and to read whatever is asked of us. Working in the said field would mean that lives and the well-being of people are at stake, and as a practitioner I’d only want the best for them. More so if I ever decide to become a lawyer (which I highly doubt! I can hardly survive being an accounting student and after seeing the film, I don’t think I’m ready, let alone cut-out for such demanding pursuits). I remember during the first few days of class, some of my classmates were talking about authors of various accounting books (e.g. “Gamit mo ba libro ni Valix?”, “Sabi nila maganda raw yung libro ni Valix eh, kaya yun binili ko.”) and I was like “Who on Earth is this Valix guy?” only to find out that he, indeed, was a renowned author of various books in the accounting field. There was a similar scene in Bar Boys, when Torran photocopied various readings and Erik was surprised by the volume of the photocopies… and those were just for one reading. I don’t know if he actually felt disheartened afterwards because when I saw my classmates reading books before classes even started made me say: “Shit. Maybe I am in the wrong program.” because I was not full of vigor and interest in actually learning the subject.

           Maybe one day, when I am already successful in the future, I’ll rewatch the film and reread this write-up, only to smile to myself and be proud that I never gave up. To the Angelle reading this five years from now, I hope you’re happy with what you are doing.

I’m sorry if this little ramble of mine has went beyond the scope of the film. It has just incited in me these feelings I’ve kept suppressed for so long and it was time to let them all out.

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“It doesn't matter where you start, it only matters how you end.”

“So, do you fight, or do you quit?”

#misc #movie #bar boys #kip oebanda #thoughts #filipino films

[keiraelaine]

2017

This year I learned the compassion and caring that I’ve always felt shame for lacking. I learned how to listen and show up when someone tells me how they feel and I’m working out the kinks with making caring space for myself in relationships. I learned that I am worthy and I found love and I learned that I need to care about myself in order to take care of myself. I started learning how to do that. Long long post below. 

January: I flew into Green Bay like someone who doesn’t have any sense of self-preservation. I ignored the signs. Or, I worried that I was too anxious, and that it wouldn’t work because I couldn’t just trust a person. I was out of theory though, and I felt like I could breathe easier than I had in a year. Benson stopped me in the hall, surprised. Jan. 20 sucked. Landlord continued to not do his job. In coding, I felt like I was actually learning a cool thing. I spoke to no one. AfAm Writers seating was straight up segregated and we were intimidating. I learned more about the world at BGH than I did anywhere else. I suppose I felt shame, but I was away from the con. I couldn’t make myself care about getting out of bed. The voice search was frustrating, because no other students really showed up. 

February: I learned what I want to do with my life from a candidate. I had a reason to make myself get up in the morning. I offered crumbs because that’s what I did best, ask for nothing and feel anxious. We had one good night. People suggested walking away. I scared myself by not drawing a line and allowing some major bullshit. I should have known because every white girl I’ve been with couldn’t ignore me in public if she tried. My new friends showed me what respect looked like. In coding, my attendance and attention faltered. One night, I threw my phone. An apartment opened up and it seemed perfect. It took weeks for me to figure out he and we were going to stay unhealthy. I felt ignored and unimportant. My writing in AfAm was exemplary. My friend got really, really hurt by a shitty boy. I got hurt by a shitty boy too. I felt shame.

March: The coding project loomed just in time for me to realize I knew nothing about Java. The random girl in my class who I worked with made me laugh from my belly. The boy in our group was MIA and sexist. Cue the hardest project of my life with a partner who was brown but not a lesbian. I kept wanting to give up. I slowly figured out I thought and was afraid to think she was cute. My friends tried playing matchmaker. ACDA was magic and disappointing and educational all at once. I came back and made some quip about morning finals, and I gave back shit that wasn’t mine. I moved! I observed girl choir and thought it was impossible. I got a biopsy and was not dying. I passed coding barely, and AfAm with flying colors. I was nervous about history and about scenes, and anxious about the boundary I drew, but it turns out the Ignore Boring Girls in Public game continued regardless of how I tried to communicate. Some people I thought were friends knew and decided to not have my back. I decided to kiss the girl I wanted to kiss instead of waiting for some bullshit that would never not hurt. 

April: After kissing the girl I wanted to kiss, who was brown and not a lesbian and also cannot do Java, I went to the library with her, and then to breakfast, and then to a movie, and then back to bed! Beethoven haunted me. History started good and so did Race and Ethnicity, but RE went downhill fast. It was more 101 than I could even consider sitting through. They put me in with an orchestra and I sang well. I figured out that anxiety was now a loud, disruptive thing that I had to deal with every day of my life because of the shit I picked up from useless boys and men, especially theory. I apologized too much. I loved my new apartment. I was afraid to like this girl, but I pulled a Torres and UHauled faster than I thought proper. We said things to each other that were honest and caring at the same time, and kissed in my office.I stopped being afraid. Kadihjia left and I felt lost and angry and resentful. Spring scenes were fun!

May: Spring scenes continued to be fun because I barely had to speak to the directors, and thank god. They made me a witch with a knife and put me in white make-up. Choir became insufferable. I wanted to be in Cantala. I thought about dropping RE. I thought about dropping everything but singing and poems. Melissa gave me the tools for an excellent imitation poem and continued to trust me for reasons I can’t fathom still. I made friends with the Academy! They and Julie grew my brain bigger than I thought possible. I felt angry all the time. Every day. I learned jaw tension and migraines. I learned my recital rep. I wrote good program notes, and my mom came to visit. I didn’t weep this time. I sang very well. My people were there. My girlfriend was there, because that’s who she was. I looked elegant. Campus went to shit. My friends got hurt. I felt afraid.

June: I shaved the side of my head and rebleached the blonde bit and we three got tattoos and had a sleepover. My friend group kind of went to shit and I decided to not have friend groups anymore. I took an incomplete in history and then passed that shit like nobody’s business. I was so proud of myself. I worked an office job that seemed totally fine before it started sucking my soul out. Anger ran my life. Reunion weekend was a time for singing and remembering and confusion, but mostly a time for singing. I grew to resent the people I worked with. I missed my girlfriend but I trusted her, and missing someone you trust is a whole different game. I tried out veganism and yoga and both were good. Gaycation!

August: I scheduled box braids and tried bullet journaling and I got box braids and I felt Real. I felt ready and real and beautiful and worthy and loved. Except at work which continued to be bullshit. I worried about theory, but I knew I could at least try with a new professor. Still angry always. I felt like I could spend a good long time with my girlfriend. 

September: I thought all my classes would be exciting except theory. Turns out, a good teacher and an excellent therapist make theory perfectly good, and a teacher who doesn’t care to decolonize the classroom can make interesting content insufferably boring. I felt angry and anxious and safe. Facilities fired me. I had the worst panic attack of my life about my refund, and I felt angry at a white woman I typically trust more than most folks. PEDAL hit the group running. 

October: It was affecting me that half the queer Black women at school left. Anger abound. I was ready to slap some smiles off white girls’ faces. I was ready to schedule an actual fight with Richard. I was ready to drop Sonja’s class. My homework was getting done but I couldn’t say anything to a professor without also saying sorry. I did jack in my independent study. I thought about I wanted a Black Studies MA. 

November: Melissa convinced me about MFAs. I figured out that all I could do was give the best presentation in the class I wanted to drop. I took my hair out and panicked about it. I realized I needed to shave it off, so I did. Nothing I have ever done is as freeing as that I figured out that some white middle class women love technicality more than anything else. I learned that I can’t yet glare a shit-eating grin off a white face. I learned that I have trouble listening to my own needs, again. I learned that I’m allowed to work on it, that I’m allowed to feel overwhelmed and need to be comforted and held. I wanted to go home. We planned Costa Rica. I shaved all my hair off.

December: Straightness was a weight on my chest. I passed every single class. I got an A in music theory. I earned the grade of ‘A’ in MUTH 252. It felt unbelievable, like a miracle but also like a birthday, like a matter of course. I missed Rebecca. I had a massive breakdown about grad school. Melissa showed up for that anxiety. Girl choir was indescribable. I had a short quarter-life crisis about music education. I sank into a week-long lesbian unrequited shame melancholy and wrote some poems and asked for help and pulled myself out of it. I got into a professional choral ensemble. I applied to Cave Canem. We moved. I fell in love with our new house. We made a plan to go home to the sun after school lets out. I fought with my brothers and I broke down crying in the car and I ate real Mexican food and I apologized and made up with my brothers and I jumped in a cold pool and I worried about the future. On Christmas, I was Black for the first time. I had a panic attack about coming back. I had another panic attack about coming back. Anxiety sat like bile in my throat the entire time I was in the air. I came back and spent time with a really wonderful human, and I cleaned and reorganized everything, and I ate cookies, and now I feel like I can do this next six months, even though it’s so much bullshit. I realized that I need to make small changes this year that will give me ease in small ways. Lotion, swimming, sleeping, water. I graduate June 10. 

Resolutions:

Say no to things that distract me from my goals. 

Swim often. 

Learn to cook a few things!

Make some money. 

Fix my nails. 

Read one whole book for pleasure every month. 

Keep the apartment and garage clean. 

Do laundry on a schedule.

Do mornings on a schedule. 

Work more on apologizing. 

#personal