#hoping i get the chance to do actual art for junior year
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Kristen Applebees, unhinged
#every time i close my eyes I hear HeeEeyyy Giirrrlieeee#Absolutely iconic of her im obsessed#hoping i get the chance to do actual art for junior year#but for now i only have time for sketches#d20#dimension 20 fantasy high#dimension 20 fhjy#fantasy high junior year#kristen applebees#ragh barkrock#fanart
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CloverCoin Artpack 2024 March + Updates
[PATREON POST + ART PACK]
Hey everyone... I see March is rounding the corner to being over and I realized I never actually make an official patreon post yet.
A lot has been happening on our end / IRL. We recently found our we might need to move this summer... But thanks to a lot of back and forth between us and the new landlord we got a lease extension for 1 year to prepare our savings and safely move out to another place in town or around this town we are currently living in.
After a lot of discussion between my husband and I, we're really struggling to find rental single family homes that fit our disability needs AND budget. Rent bubble in our area is about 70% more than our current rent which... is mind blowing.
But we are determined! With further discussion we think we agree, we'd like to buy a house to make sure our needs are met and that we can take care of our senior dogs without having our lives uprooted without notice.
So our belts are going to be really tight over the next year while we try to scrimp and save every penny to go towards our goal to purchase a house next year. That is scary but also so exciting!
Wish us luck, we're going to need every lick of it to pull this off.
~~~
Other worse news... The reason why I've been struggling these past few weeks. My family has been reaching out to me and it's official. My mother has a terminal cancer diagnosis. I do not live near her, so I would like to budget a trip out to see her at some point this summer. We don't have any real time lines yet until we see how to reacts to chemo treatment. She's just started that this month.
So that's been a weird tangle of emotions and talking with my siblings about what we expect out of all this. How we each can help in what ways we can. One of my older sisters is taking control of talking with the doctors and updating us since my mother is extremely avoidant about talking about her illnesses.
At this time I won't be taking any time off from working and doing adopts/commissions. We need the money more than ever, even just to go fly or drive up to see her. But I will update on patreon/discord when I'm taking a week or so off to visit her.
~~~
More middling news? Our two senior dogs, Ollie and Junior, have been having little health scares this year. Feels like 2024 just started and so much has happened! Ollie has been diagnosed with a heart murmur and is on medication now to help treat it. Diet and life style changes as well to help him stay fit. Junior may have had a small seizure or stroke, for 2 days he was not able to stand or walk which really scared us. Both have been to the vet multiple times this year and are being watched VERY closely. I just hope nothing happens to them before we find them a new house to live in. (knocks on wood)
~~~
I myself am having some medical issues but... Just with everything going on I just haven't had time to assign myself with a new clinic and new gp. My new health insurance won't let me see the old one anymore and it's EXTREMELY disruptive to my whole life. So there's a chance my body might get a flat tire in the future, but I'll try to manage it accordingly.
To end it all on a good note, I did finally finish my very last tooth filling / replacement and after a year and a half of constant dentist visits, my mouth is all fixed! Hooray!!!! Now we just have to tackle my jaw and TMJ problems haha.
~~~
I think... that's the big items of what's going on. Why I've been really absent online and for updates. Life just kinda had a weird downpour on us, but we're sorting it out. We signed a new lease. Prov is working very hard at his new job. The future is really scary for me right now and I'm really struggling. Please be patient with me while we go through these big life changes at this time.
I'll be opening up new commission slots soon to start a monthly income to help with house savings.
If anyone has pending commissions with me or trades, please never hesitate to DM me/poke me for updates. I've been a lot more disorganized more than usual lately and I am happy to give any updates or refunds as needed should anything come up that I can't handle.
Sorry bout the long read everyone, but thank you so much for skimming through and keeping up with what's going on in my life. I've been desperately missing art more and more every day I spend away from it, so I look forward to sharing even more art with you all!
Thank yo everyone for all your support!
AJD . ART
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My Social Scientific Journey: The Beginning
What do you want to be when you grow up? That's a question I've been asked when I was a kid. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's a question that lots of kids have been asked. I'm pretty sure that kids still are being asked that same question to this day. But the real question is does anyone actually know what career path that they want to take? At the time, maybe they do but the future isn't written in stone. Interests change, people change, other opportunities arrive. What's a person to do? As for myself, I went through a variety of interest whilst growing up.
First of all, as a naïve and impressionable 90s kids, I once said that I wanted to be a Power Ranger. In fact, after I underwent an operation to have my tonsils removed when I was 8 years old, my oldest sister made me a Get Well Soon card with a drawing of myself as an Orange Ranger, my Zord being the Bunny Zord, a reference to a stuffed bunny rabbit that my mother's good friend had given me as a present before going to the hospital. As I started to grow up and started secondary school at age 11. I had grown to accept that my dream to become a Power Ranger was unrealistic.
As I entered my early teens, I began to develop new goals in life. At age 13, I was inspired to one day attend university after watching the animated Disney movie An Extremely Goofy Movie, though I had no idea what course that I wanted to take at the time. Also, at age 15, I decided that I wanted to become a pop singer after watching an on screen of the short-lived pop group S Club Juniors/8 on a children's Saturday morning television show called Diggit. As soon as I entered my late teens, I eventually abandoned my pop star dream but eventually, my goal to attend university eventually came true in my mid to late 20s.
As I started my early 20s, my mother persuaded me to continue working on my goal to attend university and study accountancy, a profession which opened the doors to several high paying job opportunities, mainly due to my admirable numeracy skills. I eventually attended the University Centre at Blackburn College from 2012 - 2014, where I completed a Foundation Degree in accountancy and whilst I didn't earn enough credits to continue onto a BA top up year, I did gain enough points to pass the course and graduate. After graduation, I proceeded to apply for several jobs, mostly in accountancy, but also in other fields of work but to this day, I had only to managed to receive two temporary jobs in both retail and hospitality during 2016, as well as volunteering at a local charity shop for several years for experience.
Not long after getting married and moving to Scotland in 2019, I continued to pursue a career in accountancy with little to no luck at obtaining full time paid employment. Despite being signed to an alternative modelling agency called Rogue Model Management the previous year, it was difficult to obtain work, especially in Scotland.
During the 2020 and 2021 Coronavirus lockdowns, however, I decided to try my hand at art and to my pleasant surprise me, I turned out to be fairly good at it and proceeded to improve on my promising skills. I hoped to attend an Art course as soon as the lockdowns finally ended and in 2021, I saw my chance, applying for an Art And Design course at my local college but sadly, my portfolio was rejected, though I still intend at continuing with my art as a hobby rather than a career move.
As the months went by, I considered applying for a course in Fashion Business, which I thought I would have a better chance of being accepted due to my experience with modelling, retail and even appearing on a fashion related TV show called 100% Hotter but after discussing it with my wife and decided to consider something else. And then, that was when it hit me like a curb. I knew exactly what course I wanted to take. Social Science. For quite some time now, I have had a keen interest in a variety of social sciences such as Sociology, Psychology, Political Science, Social Anthropology, Geography and even History. I've always talked about how I wanted to make the world a better place and the best way to improve the world is to better understand it. I began devouring books on Social Sciences and watched several YouTube videos related to Social Science. I even explored Social Sciences through my art. I looked up available Social Science courses and applied for a Level 5 Certificate In Social Science course and to my pleasant surprise, I was accepted. If I am successful in passing this course, I will then going to a Level 6 Advanced Certificate In Social Science course, followed by HNC and HND in Social Science.
Where will this take me? To be honest, I really can't say at the moment. I still want to carry on with my art and modelling and I'd still like a job in accountancy but for now, can definitely say that I want to have a career in Social Science, which also opens the doors to many opportunities.
I'm starting a new trend: My Social Scientific Experience
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i’m so scared that i’m faking being happy but at the same time i know i’m not because happiness is a choice (and also not a destination) and i choose it every day.
even though right now i have to urge to go, i know it’s all temporary. i keep imagining myself. when i die, all my stuff will go to Mar. even my 3DS, and even my copy of soul silver.
yikes. i hate feeling like this. i feel so icky and gross whenever i do. cmon eli! this isn’t you! you’re supposed to be happy and full of joy on the time! think of all the tender mercies! you fucked up bad yesterday, and God still let you get another chance! mom made breakfast! dad went out to buy us a drink at the new gas station they built down the road! and Mar is in the living room waiting for us to go outside and tell her about the new book we are reading!
cmon! think of how much you love being alive! because you do.
i have a hard time accepting the bad feelings as feelings of my own. my brain is so frustrating sometimes. it feels like it’s not mine.
i miss being little. i miss being 14. my parents were mean, and i didn’t have any friends, and i had the ugliest hair cut in the world — but i was 14 and i played my favorite video game for the first time, and all Mar n I had to worry about was our stupid Government class that we were taking for college credit.
Mom was really happy when we told her that we got accepted into the dual enrollment program, even though she didn’t understand that dual enrollment was for the students that were smart enough to be looked at as a waste. It’s a school in south Texas, with only 15% of the students actually going on to get a degree after graduation. Even if it was only for the numbers, it really did help out.
I didn’t think I was going to go to college. I get frustrated when people say that a Bachelors is the same as a HS Diploma. I didn’t decide I was going to college until my junior year. At most, I thought I was going to just finish off whatever I had left of classes at the community college I was already attending during high school. But then during the state exams, Mr Austin looked at Mr Sowell and went, “You are looking at the two brightest minds of the 21st century.” (referring to me and Mar), and even though it’s not true, because I’m just a 19 year old girl, it still gave me a sense of hope.
Mom never went to middle school (secondary school I guess) and has a 5th grade education. I do everything for her. We told her about World War 2. It’s crazy that she doesn’t know anything about it. Then we tried telling her about outer space, she doesn’t know much, but she knows about planets! we told her that there is a myriad of planets, and we told her what galaxies are, and how galaxies can collide, and how stars can die beneath their own weight.
i feel like that sometimes.
she says it’s too late for her, but i don’t think so. i’ve been trying to teach her english, but she doesn’t care to learn. she can order at the drive thru by herself and she can have a conversation with Bailey’s parents. that’s enough.
dad first told me he loved me during graduation. he hugged me too. i miss the feeling of dad being proud of me like that. i know moms always proud of me, but it’s in a different way.
i like seeing dads face light up. i hate the stigma that i have to take care of my parents once they get older, or that children of immigrants live for their parents, but it’s so true. dad always looked so happy after i performed.
when i passed my drivers test (after going to the DMV like 4 times) he hugged me and was like “i’m so proud of you!” and i think about that a lot. i told him how i was planning on going to UT (my literal dream school and i’m so glad to God that i even got accepted) for aerospace engineering. and he was so happy. then i ended up “following my dream” and going to liberal liberal arts school in Texas for fucking ENGLISH. and he still was so happy. i cried when they dropped me off at my dorm, and i still cry thinking about it.
andrew was so right when he said that moving away from your parents for college is some white people shit. i’m still grateful to the universe for the experience though.
when i came back home during the winter break, i think he could tell that my depression was coming back. maybe that’s why he was so supportive about me dropping out. i had 4 days left until i had to move back to Denton when i had decided to withdraw. fuck, i was so scared. i remember asking him over and over what he thought i should do, and he just went “whatever you want mija, it’s your life not mine” until i ended up actually withdrawing. i know that he knew i was scared.
the next day he took me to dallas to pick up my stuff. a 6 hour drive, 2 hours to pack, 6 hours back — and he didn’t complain. i was so miserable the whole spring, which sucks because it’s my favorite season.
we would take Mar to class 2x a week (Mar can’t drive, she’s too scared to, so dad would take her and i would tag along) and then sit in the Circle K parking lot for two hours until her Latin class was over (the drive to her uni was 45 minutes, so it made more sense to just wait there). He’d buy me an horchata and a hot dog, he was always like “these are good today!” and i would agree, i never told him that i don’t like hot dogs, but it’s okay because i think he was always trying to convince himself / trying to make me feel better about not being in school.
sometimes we would go to Taco Bell, or to Costco. it was always the same thing. me being miserable about having to be at a uni i don’t attend, and him trying to make me feel better without knowing how. i’m grateful though.
i told them i was going back to school in fall. they never asked me about it. that’s the only thing i’m jealous of white people for, that their parents know how to do all the college stuff. they wouldn’t check up on if i was caught up in the paperwork, or if i had talked to the school, or if i did my financial aid — they just assumed that i would do it on my own. and i did do it on my own, because i knew that they wouldn’t know how to help me.
i pushed myself.
after finally doing all the stuff for the school here, and finally setting up my classes and everything (thank god), i told dad how i was thinking of switching my major. i told him i was gonna switch to architecture. his only response was “that sounds like a reliable degree!”
i always switched up what i wanted because i want multiple things. but the one thing that i know for a fact i want, is to write. so he was still as happy when i told him that i was going to keep doing english, but i’m dropping the education courses. im switching to creative writing.
then we talked about grad school for a bit and i told him that i was planning on going to Utah or Minnesota near Juni. i think he’s more supportive of Utah, just because it’s closer to Cali. Mar is going to Cali for law, she takes all her law exam shits later this school year, and then is probably going to talk to grandma about moving in to the little studio in the back. grandma is obviously going to say yes.
dad also didn’t care that i stopped working. i mean, i know a part of did, but he never said anything. i like to think that i did a good job hiding how i was doing mentally, but every week dad would ask if i wanted to get a slushee from Sonic, which i know is his way of trying to make me feel better.
i stopped with the TEFL program i was doing. i know i’ll pick it up sometime later. right now i have to worry about getting an internship, grad school, applying for the study abroad program, and this upcoming semester. the fact that i’m graduating next winter feels like a sin. i just started college. maybe i should be more appreciative of the fact that i’m finishing early early.
also getting a job. but i have confidence that God has something better for me planned. i have enough money to pay for my car bill next month, and just barely enough for the one after that (i might have to ask dad to help a bit). the only reason i feel bad leaving the school in dallas, is because i was on a full scholarship. i think my parents paid like $1000 the whole semester and that was for the room i was staying in.
i don’t expect mom and dad to pay for this semester, especially since it was my choice to move back home. so i know i have to pay for it on my own. i’m okay with working 24/7 if it means they don’t have to worry about it. but, i know how dad is. he’d go into debt if it means i get to go to college.
Mar and i are on our own for grad school though, they made that VERY clear LMAO. i might check out that women’s only university that Ms. Burger told me about. she got her M.F.A there and said she loved it. she was a crazy woman, talking about how she lived in London, how she’s okay with being 57 and single because she has her dog, how she wrote her thesis on Little Women.
anyways, i feel like i’ve written enough. even though nobody reads this. it’s like i’m bothering my future self for whenever i do reread this. i talk a lot. i only really took notice of it because of how often i keep YAPPING to 26y/o. he said he doesn’t mind, but i’m scared that he does. because why would he want to hear some stupid 19 year old vent about stupid shit. either way i’m appreciative of it.
yesterday we played fortnite. he’s really good lmao. we won most of our games! it was really funny. the dynamic of our relationship is really funny. there’s like a 7 year (about to be 6!!) age gap between us which for the most part doesn’t really matter. but he’s experienced so many more things than me, and it’s very obvious at times. like when i talk about uni and my future, and then i realize that this mf already has his shit figured out. like, he’s GROWN. it’s really funny though. i made this grown man play fortnite with me. and it was fun!
ugh, i said i was gonna stop this text post but i always have to much to say. i miss juni. so so so very much. he’s literally my soul partner. i dream that im at his house sometimes. in the living room, i’m laying sideways on the couch and he’s laying on the recliner. his parents in the kitchen making dinner. his younger sister in her room playing roblox. i always feel at home when i’m there, as strange as it sounds. i’m eternally grateful that his family accepted me so easily. and that his mom loves me. it’s july there too.
i miss mn. i’m not going to be going there anytime soon, because juni is coming here in september. so i probably wont be there until december. which sucks because it means that i’m going to have to get a new job. since i’m taking 2 weeks to go to mexico, 1 for mn, and then 1 to go to georgia to visit Cav. so that’s like, the whole month! i’ll stress about it later.
none of these things are permanent so why stress? im just 19 (ugh i’m gonna keep saying this even after im 20.).
20 is so close and its scary. i feel like a baby. my dad still has to drive me around the city, and mom still eats dinner with me.
i think mom knows that my eating is getting worse again. she’s not very (i forgot the word but it has the same meaning as “slick with it”), as she’s always calls me during her lunch break to go “oh what did you eat for breakfast?”
that’s the only reason i have lunch with her sometimes. to ease her worries i guess. juni is more normal about it, he ask “did you eat?” like once every few days. i’m glad he’s like that but it also upsets me. i don’t think he understands my mental health issues, or my issues in general. he told me he didn’t care to learn about it because i’m a human and not an animal. which i understand. but also like, this is a part of me that isn’t going away.
i feel like we are at two different places sometimes. which is crazy because of how close we are, literal soul ties. i’ve known him all my life.
anyways. i think i’ll end this here. i’m sorry if there are any typos or inconsistencies in my writing here. i use this as a diary, i guess. i graduated with a 4.3 and got so many scholarships to write (because woo! there’s a lack of representation when it comes to latin authors getting published in the US! especially women!) so how jarring would it be for me to say that i never paid attention during english class. i don’t know what a preposition is, i don’t know how to properly structure sentences sometimes, but that’s okay!
i lied again. i did pay attention to english class. i just forgot almost everything i learned.
i’m getting hungry. i think i’m gonna get boba later. anyways. goodbye, i love you.
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Headcanons for being Hope van Dyne’s child
Hope van Dyne x child!reader
Scott Lang x stepkid!reader
warnings: insects (ants), sharp weapons
a/n:
prompt: anonymous: “Happy holidays darling! Would you write HC for Hope Van Dyne's child? Love the step-parents HC 🥰”
growing up as a lil smarty pants
grandpa hank was pretty proud, although he didn’t see you very much
once every few years
but he did tell you all these crazy stories about his adventures that you honestly thought were just fiction (until you were older)
“and i was as small as an ant, but i was still incredibly strong! remember that, kid. just because you aren’t as big as someone else doesn’t mean you can’t beat them” -hank
“y/n doesn’t need to be hearing those stories, hank” -hope
“why not? they have important life lessons in them!” -hank
“why does mommy call you ‘hank?’” -you
“because mommy hates grandpa, isn’t that right?” -hank
“okay, i think that’s enough of this visit. come on, y/n, time to go” -hope
your mom was very supportive of you, nonetheless
she wanted to be different from her dad
so she showed up to EVERYTHING
birthdays, sick days, tucking you in for bed, parent-teacher conferences, art shows, you name it
“here’s some tea, jellybelly. it’ll make your throat feel better” -hope
“mom, i think i’m dying” -you
“you’ll be fine” -hope, givin’ u a kiss on the forehead
life wasn’t like, extra crazy or anything. sometimes she’d bring you to work and honestly? darren cross didn’t seem like the worst guy. he even brought you whatever you might need if your mom was staying late at work
“hey, van dyne junior! i brought you a puzzle that might keep you busy for a while...and a happy meal from mcdonalds! let me know if you need anything else, me and your mom will just be in the lab for a little while” -darren
“thank you!!!” -you
uh huh, ur mom taught u manners!
anyways you started spending more time with your grandpa cuz they had a plan
thats when you found out that his “turning small” stories were not, in fact, bullshit
“wait grandpa...you actually did shrink as small as an ant?” -you
“why would i lie?” -hank
okay well cue you wanting to shrink down to ant size now it was your new aspiration
you did learn how to command ants tho!!!!!!
but unfortunately (or not so unfortunately) hank brought scott to the party
“hi!” -you, waking scott up
“what?!” -scott, jumping back against the headboard
“hi.” -you, staring at him “im y/n. these are my ants”
bullet ants were just crawlin around the place
“oh, that’s....that’s cool. any chance you could tell me where i am or how i got here” -scott
“wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy” -you, leaving abruptly
“are you bothering our guest?” -hope, watching you proudly nod “good job, jellybelly”
mom taught u how to punch 🥰🥰🥰
and let you use scott as a punching bag
but scott wasn’t like awful or anything he was just insufferable at times
“i think you’d like my daughter cassie. she’s weird and smart just like you” -scott
“did you just call me weird? mom, can i punch him again?” -you
“no no no! i meant weird in a good way! please dont hurt me anymore!” -scott
chasing him around the yard ready to ATTACK
hank had to tell u to cut it out
“dont tell them what to do” -hope
“someone has to” -hank
“excuse me? i parent y/n just fine, better than you ever did for me!” -hope
“do they do this often?” -scott
“every time they see each other but that’s not very much” -you
“hm...hey, do you like ice cream? specifically baskin robbins?” -scott
ur mom said “we do not associate with idiots ❤️” and then proceeded to associate with said idiots
scott did end up saving u from darren tho bc that mf tried to hold u hostage and scott was really not in the mood for that bullshit
“you alright, y/n?” -scott
“murder is okay, right?” -you
after that whole ordeal he and your mom were kinda a thing uh huh
and he introduced you to cassie!!! she was amazingly sweet and you could def see the family resemblance
“is this my new sibling?! i’ve always wanted one!” -cassie
“hey, me too!” -you
you hung out with her on a weekly basis, with or without scott
and mom and grandpa were working on a ✨special project✨
one you insisted on being apart of
“no, y/n, we can’t make you your own suit. you’re too young for this sort of thing” -hope
“pleaaaaase mom? i swear i’ll he responsible with it!” -you
“you’re mother is right, y/n. you’re just not ready yet. maybe someday, but not anytime soon” -hank
scott took you on family bowling trips yes he did
and just corny stepdad shit
but he went to germany and mom and him broke up and FF to two years later when you guys had finally reunited
“scott!! you asshole!!” -you, like this -> :)
“kiddo!! sorry to hear that!!” -scott, same energy
shading him the whole time
“ach mein gott” -you
“are you kidding me, y/n? i make one mistake. ONE” -scott
“you’re one mistake has caused me to live in MINIATURE HOMES” -you
“THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD THING” -scott
“WELL IT’S NOT” -you
“did you at least miss me?” -scott
“sicher habe ich” -you
“god dammit” -scott
surprise!! u kind of had a suit (for emergencies)
as a van dyne/pym, it was almost a necessity to know how to use pym particles
scott acted like a proud dad
“wow, you’re really doing it!!!” -scott
“halt die klappe” -you
“please stop” -scott, tearing up
finding out about ✨grandma✨
she possessed scott and touched ur face and told you that she was so excited to meet you but you didn’t know wtf was going on and you had the urge to smack scott but THANKFULLY you did not
“i have to meet her for real! let me help you guys!” -you
“okay” -hope
“what? really?” -you
“it’s about time we put your genius to good use” -hope
scott offered you a high five for that and u literally accepted it
“don’t get too happy, that was just an in-the-moment thing” -you, watching scott’s eyebrow raise “fine. you can have a hug”
okay okay well everything went okay and then half the world ~vanished~ including ur whole family but like cassie and her family took you in and you spent five years very alone and upset until one day cassie called you downstairs and whoopdedoo???? scott???????
“is my mom with you?” -you
“sorry, sport, she’s not...do you have your suit with you? we need to go on some...hero business” -scott
you missed scott a lot over the past 5 years, this really did cheer you up, even if it was just him
“how’ve you been holding up the past few years” -scott
“the world sucks, man” -you
“i can see that” -scott
he turned on some tunes for the two of you to enjoy otw to the avengers hq and it was probably the best memory you created since everyone disappeared
“wait, reach into the glove box” -scott
“oh, god, i hope there’s no rodents in here...” -you, reaching for a picture “is this..?”
“family photo!! you were little back then, i can’t believe how time flies. i mean, it flew really quick for me, the quantum realm is no joke” -scott
you were busy staring at the picture of your mom, you really missed her
busy ~saving the world~
and going to 2012 with scott
“hey uh just so you know, i might be able to make pym particles” -you
“‘might?’ and if we use faulty pym particles we ‘might’ die. would you like that?” -tony
“hey, back off, stark. they’re just trying to help” -scott
next thing u know ur in present day and THEN u actually got to hold the scepter bc scott let u
“im gonna stab you!!” -you
“no!!!” -scott
the other avengers, literally mourning natasha while you chase him around with a sharp weapon: 😧
okay after the place was destroyed u got to face mr. purple man and yo mama showed back up and saw you on the front lines
“y/n????” -hope
“mom????” -you
“scott!!!!” -scott
“really, scott? a shrek reference? now?” -you “...nice”
the reunion with your mom was short and sweet but you missed her forehead kisses and she gave you one immediately!!!! and she was crying but you were too bc damn
“listen, after this, we’re gonna have such a fun family night. i’m so sorry i couldn’t be there for you all this time” -hope
“mom, it wasn’t your fault...it was that purple bastard, let’s get him!” -you
“they grow up so fast...” -hope
i n s e c t f a m
insect fam killed it out there and then ✨attended tony’s funeral✨ together right after
that’s one solid family 😌💖
anyways time to celebrate a (halfway) return to normalcy
with your *sister* cassie and your mom and your...scott
you were just happy to all be together again, it’s been WAY too long
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot //
#hope van dyne imagine#hope van dyne x reader#hope van dyne#hope van dyne x child!reader#hope van dyne x daughter!reader#hope van dyne x son!reader#wasp#wasp x reader#wasp imagine#scott lang x daughter!reader#scott lang x reader#scott lang imagine#scott lang#scott lang x child!reader#mom!hope van dyne#dad!scott lang#stepdad!scott#ant man#ant man imagine#ant man x reader#marvel#avengers#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#avengers x reader#avengers imagine
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Ok modern zuko would be an expert at breakdancing and sokka would be the guy who just bi-panicks whenever he does
(whoops, my hand slipped and I accidentally wrote a modern au headcanon turned zukka karate au one-shot)
Okay but consider this instead: Zuko doesn’t know how to dance for shit and has horrible rhythm, but he is a GOD at martial arts. He’s been doing some type of style since he was a kid and is a full black belt by the time he hits high school. Martial arts was always something he excelled at, but it was also something that made him feel more secure. It was something he could work on to help him protect himself from his home life, even if it wasn’t enough most times. He specifically excels in weapons forms (I’m thinking twin sais) and you DO NOT want to spar with him. Because he may be skinny and shorter, but he’s quick and can hit hard at just the right spots.
When he was younger he was obsessed mainly because he felt that belt rankings and trophies from competitions were a way to prove himself to his dad, but when he moved in with Iroh (who encouraged him to keep it up and was so proud of how talented and passionate he was about it), he basically used it in place of talking about his feelings. He didn’t talk about his home life or the shit Ozai did, instead, he put all his energy into his black belt levels, learning new weapons forms, and eventually into teaching new students as a junior instructor.
At school, he’s awkward and asocial and just doesn’t have the energy for people. Zuko has little patience for asshole classmates who ask intrusive questions about his scar or spread rumors about where he got it. He eats lunch in his English classroom and would be a complete shut-in if Iroh didn’t get him to work part-time at the Jasmine Dragon. But in the dojo, he’s focused and is able to direct his energy into improving his forms and teaching younger teens.
One of his newer students transferred from a different dojo after moving from a different state. He’s actually a freshman at Zuko’s high school but it’s not as if Zuko really interacted that much with him. This kid, Aang, is as talented and dedicated as he is, but has a long way to go to learn all the new katas. Zuko’s been dubbed the ‘scary’ trainer at the dojo. He’s the serious one who will yell if someone is goofing off and everyone’s seen that he has no problem using full force in a demonstration (little kids love him and he’s super nice to them, but he teaches the 12-15 age range). Plus there’s that scar, which doesn’t make him the most initially welcoming person. But this new kid Aang just latches onto Zuko immediately. He says hi to Zuko in the halls at school and works on his katas outside of regular practice times. At first Zuko thinks this sickeningly positive kid is annoying as crap, but warms up to him. He likes that Aang cares about martial arts and isn’t nice as a show, he’s just genuinely nice.
And maybe he sees Aang hanging around school with a sophomore girl and her brother who just might be in Zuko’s calc class and English class.
And maybe Zuko thinks this guy is insanely attractive and somehow incredibly funny even though most of his humor consists of the worst puns imaginable.
But obviously, Zuko hasn’t attempted to ever actually talk to this guy. The most that he could classify as ‘talking’ to the cute, funny guy on the robotics club is the one day in English class when he had to respond to someone’s dumbass comment about Macbeth with what ended up being a ten minute spoken essay about obvious motifs and symbolism. To which Mr. Puns and Ponytail was very obviously paying great attention to and even gave Zuko a smile and thumbs up for.
Zuko knows it’s pointless to engage. After all, he’s a senior and he doesn’t have any friends anyway. There’s no point in making any this year. Crushing on this guy from the comfortable position of the other side of the room is totally good enough for him. Totally. This is fine. He’s fine.
Besides, he’s got competitions and if he doesn’t secure the regional championships this year he’s never going to get the chance after he goes to college. And he’s got his kids to train. Aang in particular is gearing up for his first debut into this area’s tournament.
The tournament’s in October and usually, Zuko focuses on his own matches and performances, but Aang really wanted him to watch his set. So on this day, he stands on the sides of Aang’s zone instead of obsessively going through his katas in a corner.He’s not going to be able to watch the whole set because it overlaps with his own weapons portion, but he stands on the side and gives Aang a reassuring look that, ‘don’t worry, you’ll do great, you’re a talented kid,’ when his student looks over to him nervously.
And wouldn’t you know it? Aang brought some friends to come watch. And one of them is Mr. Zuko’s Big Gay Crush.
“Oh, hey Zuko,” are the words that come out of this guy's mouth that give Zuko a near-stroke. And damn if this guy’s eyes aren’t blue and pretty and he usually wears his hair in a ponytail at school, but now he’s wearing it down and Zuko wishes he could take screenshots with his brain because holy moly.
“Hey.” Is the best that Zuko can get out of his dumb mouth. “You’re Sokka.”
“Aang invited us to come watch,” Sokka nudges his head to indicate the ‘us’ includes his younger sister, who Zuko doesn’t know the name of. “How do you guys not get heatstroke during these things? It’s like a million degrees in here.”
“Oh the gi’s pretty cold, I mean, it’s got air and stuff.”
Zuko decided right there that he would be completely fine with being struck by lightning. Of course, that’s what his stupid brain would come up with. Of course, that’d be the thing he’d say in front of one of the smartest guys in his class.
They watch Aang perform his set for the judges. Zuko recognizes that Aang took his advice when he said that he wasn’t putting enough force into his hits. He’s never seen Aang be as, well, aggressive isn’t the right word, but he’s definitely putting more power into his form. Zuko wouldn’t admit it, though, but only part of his attention was for Aang at the moment. The other part was for Sokka, who was smiling bright and pumping his fists when Aang completed a row of kicks.
The small part of Zuko’s brain that wasn’t being taken up by watching Aang or trying to act normal around his crush noticed the clock on the wall indicating that the weapons portion would be starting in five minutes.
“I’ve got to go do a thing so I’ll just, um, go do that now.”
“Are you competing too?” Sokka asked.
To this question Zuko just holds up his sais and raises his eyebrow as if to say ‘it’s a tournament, what do you think?’ Because yeah, he knows Sokka’s super smart, he’s seen him churn out calc answers at the speed of light and noticed his name on the robotics club awards update on the school’s website, but he’d also seen Sokka eat 5 packs of fundip at once on a dare and unironically wear a ‘women want me, fish fear me’ t-shirt for most of junior year. Somehow he had managed to fall for the smartest dumbass on earth.
“Oh yeah, right.” Sokka eyes the sais and then looks right at Zuko’s face, “Aang says you’re really good.”
Zuko decides that thinking about Aang talking to Sokka about him was something he didn’t need distracting him during his set. That was something he could anxious about later.
“Hopefully good enough for those five assholes,” Zuko replies, gesturing to the panel of judges in the weapons section of the gymnasium. To his shock, Sokka laughs. It’s a nice laugh, too. And Zuko really hoped he could blame the blush that was one-hundred-percent creeping up his face on the lack of AC.
“You know, you’re pretty funny man,” Sokka tells him. Zuko has no clue how to take that compliment, but he really does need to go.
“Right,” he grins nervously and shifts his left foot around to bounce away, “well I have to go do my thing.”
“Good luck!”
That’s where Zuko thinks the beginning and end of his interaction with Sokka would be.
The weapons portion thankfully goes by age. And since Zuko’s one of the youngest competitions, he gets to go first for his sai katas. This is what literal years of training have prepared him for. At regionals last year, the second advanced kata got him placed high enough to qualify for states. This is what he’s good at. He tells himself that a thousand times before starting his set.
There’s not a thought in his head as Zuko goes through the form. The sais glide through his fingertips with every jab, block, and hook. The imaginary opponent doesn’t stand a chance. He’s cool and competent and graceful. It’s therapeutic in a sense. There’s enough adrenaline to make Zuko feel like he’s worth something, but more importantly, he knows he’s nailing this. Whatever the judges say about it, he knows that he’s perfected this form after practicing it at least a thousand times over three years.
The judges agree with him. He’s the first competitor of the weapons portion but there isn’t really a doubt in their minds about who’s going to place.
Zuko zones back in to the gym after bowing to the panel. He walks off, feeling lighter and letting a satisfactory smile take over his face.
He expects the hug from Uncle and the proud smile from Sensei Piandao, but what he doesn’t expect is to see Sokka, eyes wide as globes, staring at him from the other side of the mat.
Because what Zuko doesn’t know is that the second he turned his wrists in his first form during his hooks, Sokka’s brain went into Full Bi Panic Mode.
And Zuko thinks the one conversation where he couldn’t talk like a human and wanted to die for most of it would be the only time Sokka would decide to willingly talk to him. Zuko is dead wrong. Sokka, in fact, has decided that this, this is the guy his Disaster Bi Brain has decided to latch onto. Sokka’s brain and all his squishy feelings have apparently decided to attach to this aloof kid with the scar who reserved his voice for eloquent, impassioned speeches about dramas and was apparently an actual god with weapons. Sokka decides that Zuko could roundhouse kick him in the side and he’d thank him. And right now Zuko’s looking at him with a dumbfounded expression, prompting Sokka to remember how to function so he can go over to congratulate Zuko and maybe ask if his dojo provides a free trial.
So yeah, that one conversation ends up decisively not being the end of anything.
#sorry#not sorry#zukka#zuko#sokka#atla#avatar the last airbender#fanfic#I'm gonna edit and add to this#and probably updated something on my ao3 in the first time in a literal month#thanks babe for the inspiration#the babes are asking#hot leaf content
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for the prompt thing: 62 or 69 <3
you got it bb <3
prompt: I wanted to tell you that I liked you before prom but chickened out and now we’re about to graduate college and I can’t hold it in any longer
i can’t fight this feeling any longer (and yet i’m still afraid to let it flow)
"Mal, I love you."
Alina frowns, shakes her head, and tries again.
"Mal, you've been my best friend for so long, and I love our friendship, but you see, I'm also head over heels in love with you."
She blows out a frustrated breath, her newly chopped bangs briefly floating off of her forehead. Telling her best friend of nearly six years she’s in love with him should not be the number one thing on her mind right now. It’s graduation day, for Saints sake. A day she hadn’t been sure she would ever see. But all she can think about is Mal.
She had met him on one of the worst days of her life. Alina had been transferred to a new foster home in the middle of her junior year of high school. There were few things worse in adolescent life than moving to a new school in the middle of the year — especially in high school, in a small town where everyone seemed to know each other.
Alina had walked the halls that day clutching onto the straps of her backpack, late to nearly every class because her sense of direction was shit, and had even gone as far as to eat lunch in the bathroom like a stereotypical teen movie, the thought of walking into the cafeteria with all those eyes on her nearly ruining her appetite entirely. She had been stared at enough as it was.
Her last class of the day was art, and she was praying for it to be the reprieve she so desperately needed. If only she could fucking find it. The warning bell rang, heightening her already raised anxiety. Alina took a corner too fast and slammed right into a wall. No, not a wall — a boy.
“I’m so sorry!” she blurted, scrambling to her knees to help pick up the papers she made him drop.
“All good,” the boy reassured her.
Once the two of them had the papers off the floor, Alina looked up and nearly dropped them again. She was looking into the warm brown eyes of possibly the hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on. He had a strong, defined jaw, grown out hair that wasn’t too shaggy, but still long enough to run her fingers through. And Saints, his lips. She was already imagining what those lips would feel like, subconsciously licking her own.
One side of the boy’s mouth quirked up, just a hint of a smirk, like he was used to having this effect on people. Shit, had he noticed her staring? Say something, Alina.
“Um, sorry,” she managed finally, handing him the pile of collected papers.
He chuckled. “You said that already.”
She tried a laugh of her own, but it came out all wrong, choppy and nervous. “Right.”
The boy stood to his full height, and for fucks sake, he had to be tall, too? She rose from her knees and he still towered over her. It was extremely attractive.
“So you’re the new girl,” he said, not a question but a statement. “I’ve heard murmurings about you today.”
“Murmurings?”
“Nothing bad. It’s just a small town. When someone new shows up, people notice.” He smiled, stuck out his hand. It took everything in her not to think about how long his fingers were. “I’m Mal.”
She took his hand, her own so tiny in comparison. “Alina.”
“Nice to meet you, Alina. Where are you headed?”
“220B? History of Traditional Art.”
Mal nodded. “Well, I can’t say that’s a room I’m super familiar with. I’m a shit artist. These hands are much better for other activities.” Her eyes must have widened, revealing just how filthy her mind was, because he quickly added, “Sports! I meant sports!”
A look passed between them, and then they were both laughing. It felt so good to laugh after the day she’d had.
“Anyway,” Mal continued, “I can help you find your way. I might not visit the art hall often, but I know my way around.”
Alina shot him another pointed look, and Mal groaned. “My way around the school! Saints, I’m really shooting myself in the foot as far as first impressions go, aren’t I?”
She grinned, but only said, “You’ll be late for class.” The final bell was going to ring any second.
Mal waved her off. “That’s all right. What poor representation of Stag Spirit would I be if I let the new girl walk around like a lost puppy? And besides,” he shot her a grin to match her own, “we can’t have you running around, terrorizing other kids and their poor papers now, can we?”
Alina let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I said I was sorry!”
He turned, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Did you? Must have missed it.”
She shot daggers in his direction, but she smiled the whole way to the art room. The next day, she dared to actually step into the cafeteria for lunch. People were still staring, but after yesterday, she expected it. Part of her was hoping she would find Mal in the crowded space, but she doubted it would matter even if she did. After some social media stalking last night, Alina had discovered what she should have known from the start — Mal was popular. He would already have a flock around him, friends he had known since childhood, who were just like him — attractive, athletic, alien to a kid like Alina who preferred quiet cafes and sketchpads to football fields and pompoms. He had been nice to her yesterday, sure, but that didn’t mean—
“Alina!”
Her head popped up, scanning the sea of tables until she saw him, standing and waving her over. Sure enough, Mal was at a table filled with pretty, sociable looking people. But there was a space open next to him, and she realized with a little jump of her heart that he had saved that space for her.
It was the start of the fastest and fiercest friendship she would ever have. Mal was popular and sporty, yes, but he was also kind, funny, smart — and most surprising, had grown up in the foster care system, too. Alina made friends with his friends, a few of her own from her art class, but none of them matched what she grew with Mal. Suddenly she was a football field kind of girl, dressing from head to toe in school colors for each match, cheering for her best friend so loud she gave the cheer squad a run for their money. Over the next year and half, they were entirely attached at the hip.
And while it had truly started as a friendship, by the time senior prom came around, Alina had to face the fact: she was head over heels for the boy. Hell, she had noticed how attractive he was from that first fateful meeting. Mix that with how genuinely good she knew he was — how caring, how attentive, how it felt to have his head rest on her shoulder as he fell asleep during a movie; who could blame her for falling for him?
“You have to tell him!” her friend from art class, Yelena, had insisted.
“I know, I know.” She sighed. “I’ll do it at prom.”
They were going as a group — her, Mal, Mikhael, Dubrov, Yelena, and a few others from their meshed circle of friends, brought together by the two of them. But Mal had still matched his tie to her dress, a stunning royal blue. Mal had still bought her a corsage — a delicate thing of mostly blue irises, her favorite flower. He was not her date, yet in every way except in name, it felt like he was, and Alina basked in the feeling.
But as song after song played, Alina found herself backing out each time she tried to approach him. Yelena was shooting pointed looks at her all night, murmuring as she passed her, “You’re running out of time.”
Then a punky pop song came on, one of her and Mal’s favorites. She called him over. “Dance with me!” she exclaimed, and laughed as he all but pulled her onto the dance floor. Neither of them were good dancers, but they were enthusiastic, at least with each other. As the song neared its end, Alina sucked in a breath.
“Mal, I have to tell you something.”
He raised a brow, waiting for her to speak. The song ended, and their principal took to the stage. “All right folks, it’s time to announce your prom king and queen!”
Everyone was cheering and turning to the stage, but Mal was still looking at her, still waiting for her answer.
Alina opened her mouth, closed it, then finally said, “Thank you for the corsage. I really love it.”
Mal gave her a quizzical look, lips tugging down — and was that disappointment in his eyes? Before she could fully read him, his face smoothed, his usual charmed smile returning. “Of course, Lina.”
“And your prom king is,” the principal was saying, “Malyen Oretsev!”
The crowd roared. Mal’s smile turned sheepish, and he took to the stage to accept his crown. Ruby was named prom queen, to no one’s surprise. Alina watched them dance together in the middle of the room to a romantic song that would now forever be ruined for her. A little later that night, Mal came up to her, said, “You can get a ride home with Yelena, right?” He motioned behind him, flushing a little even as he grinned, to where Ruby was waiting. “I’m gonna head out.”
Alina swallowed the stupid lump in her throat and nodded. Mal pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then he was gone. She would spend the night at Yelena’s, crying on her shoulder that she had missed her chance — if she’d ever had one to begin with. Because of course Mal would choose Ruby. Beautiful, blond Ruby, much more his equal than Alina could ever be.
Graduation came, and it was happy. But in all of the pictures and celebrations was Ruby — no longer just captain of the cheer squad Ruby, but Mal’s girlfriend Ruby. She watched them partake in a summer romance that she was guiltily happy to see fizzle out once college came and split them apart. Luckily, her and Mal were off to Os Alta University together, home of the Firebirds. They forged a new friend group there: the twins, Tolya and Tamar, Nadia, David, Genya, Zoya, Nikolai. Mal didn’t really date freshman year, sticking to little flings that Alina told herself didn’t matter. In sophomore year, the tension between him and Zoya finally snapped, and the two of them had a brief . . . something together.
Of course, Alina had her own dabbles in romance — Alexei being the sweetest, Aleksander nearly making her swear off men all together. Her next two flings were with women, both because she had finally fully accepted her bisexuality and because she truly had lost trust in the male species. She even made out with Nikolai a couple times, but they had both just been using each other. They’d spent one night in a club so obnoxiously all over one another that Zoya had stormed out. Her thing with Mal had been off and on at that point, and the next morning, she texted him that they were off for good.
Two weeks later, Nikolai and Zoya were dating. Mal was single.
And still, she hadn’t made a move.
Alina stares in the mirror now, watching the tassel on her graduation cap sway back and forth. In an hour, she’ll be moving it from the right to the left and leave Os Alta University in the rear window. It hadn’t been easy getting here — nothing is easy for a foster care kid, especially one who wants to be an artist. But she’s done it. She’s graduating with top honors. Saints, she even has a job lined up. Everything she worried about growing up — making a future for herself, being swallowed by the system, figuring out who she is without the guidance of her birth parents — she has faced all of it head on. At every step, she’s run after what she’s wanted and grabbed it by the hands until it was hers.
Everything except Mal.
And try as she might, she can’t imagine a future without him in it.
He’s not seeing anyone — for now. Last night he texted her, laughing about how Ruby of all people had hit him up. She’s going to be in the city this weekend, apparently, and asked if he wanted to get a drink. It felt like prom all over again.
“Alina, come on!” Genya calls. “We’re going to be late!”
“Coming!” she calls back.
Alina follows Genya and Zoya down to the car, sits numbly in the backseat as they drive to the giant building holding their graduation ceremony.
“Look alive, Starkov,” Zoya says as they get out of the car, linking their arms. “Today is for happy things. New beginnings.”
Genya takes her other arm. “No pouting about boys unless you’re going to do something about it.”
She smiles, and for a little while, it’s not forced. There’s a rush of excitement as they walk inside and find their seats. Genya isn’t too far off from her, but Zoya’s a few rows ahead. In the rows between them, still too far to talk to but not too far to make out the back of his head, is Mal. He’s talking to the guy next to him, even though she’s pretty sure he doesn’t know him. But that’s Mal, blooming wherever he’s planted.
Alina knows she shouldn’t, but the ceremony hasn’t started yet, so she stands and calls out, “Mal!”
Somehow, he hears her over all the ruckus around them. The smile he gives her has her heart beating double time. “I’ll find you after!” he shouts back, though of course, she already knew that. Mal always finds her.
As the ceremony starts and a handful of different people come up to make speeches, she finds herself slipping into her thoughts from earlier. In her head, she sees Mal and Ruby, meeting for that drink. They pick up right where they left off. Ruby moves to the city, moves in with Mal. Alina’s there through all of it, supporting Mal like she always has, always will. On the sidelines she stays, watching him as he gets married and has ridiculously beautiful babies. None of it is real, not yet, but the thought is so painful she has tears in her eyes.
Well, at least she can blame the tears on emotional graduation bullshit as she watches her friends walk the stage, cheering for each of them even though they’re not supposed to. Tamar and Tolya, the latter looking pretty emotional himself. David, who walks quickly even though he’s probably the most awarded student of the whole graduating class. Nikolai, who dramatically presses a kiss to the hand of the Os Alta University President after she hands him his diploma. Zoya, who walks the stage as if she owns it.
Then Mal’s name is called, and she cheers so loud she’s pretty sure he hears it, if the grin on his face is any indication. Genya crosses, graceful as always. When her own name is called, she’s not expecting much. She has no family here save from the one she forged for herself. But as she walks, she can hear a very distinct cheer from a very distinct voice, and butterflies swarm drunkenly in her stomach.
In the minutes that pass between her walking the stage and the last name being called — poor Nadia —Alina knows what she’s going to do. No backing out this time.
“Congratulations, Class of 2021!”
Everyone cheers, and graduation caps go flying through the air. Alina tosses hers with everyone else, and then she takes off, pushing through her classmates as they jump and shout, running until she finds the right row, forces herself through the bodies in her way, until she’s in front of him. Until she’s found Mal.
“Alina,” he says in surprise. “What are you—”
“Don’t get a drink with Ruby.”
Mal frowns. “What?”
“I said don’t get a drink with Ruby!” she says, louder this time.
“I heard you. I’m just confused.” He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. “Why shouldn’t I have a drink with Ruby, and why did you run to tell me this right now?”
Because I’ve been in love with you from the first moment I saw you.
Because I wanted to tell you at prom, but I chickened out.
Because I’ve watched you kiss other girls for almost six years now, and I can’t stand to just watch any longer.
Alina doesn’t say any of that. Instead, she presses onto her tip toes, takes his face between her hands, and kisses him.
Mal stiffens, but doesn’t give her time to worry before he relaxes again, pulling her body against his, lifting her so she doesn’t have to stretch so far anymore. All around them are the happy cheers of a group of people at the end of one road stepping onto another. Families in the stands hoot and holler for their children, wipe tears and think, they made it.
But for Alina, it’s like being in a room where nothing exists except her and Mal, her best friend, her constant, the most important person in her life. She’s kissing him, she’s finally kissing him, and he’s kissing her back as if he’s been waiting for six years to do this, too. Like maybe he’s wanted her all along.
“Alina,” he breathes when their lips part, their foreheads pressed together instead. “Thank the bloody Saints.”
She giggles, actually fucking giggles, like a lovestruck school girl. “I’ve wanted this since prom. Before, even.”
Mal smiles, shakes his head the tiniest bit. “Me too.”
They laugh, so close that they’re breathing each other in. Two idiots, that’s what they are. But there’s no room to groan about what could’ve been sooner, no room to drown in regrets. They are young, and there is only room for joy in knowing they have the rest of their lives to make up for lost time. Starting now. Their lips meet again. Mal is steady and warm against her. He feels like home. It’s everything she’s ever imagined. It’s better.
Alina can see her future so clearly now, because she knows no matter what comes next, she’ll have Mal beside her to navigate through it.
He is all she’s ever wanted — her forever person, who won’t leave when she’s being unreasonable, who’s love is not conditional. He is all she’ll ever need.
#malina fanfic#alina starkov#malyen oretsev#fanfic#grishaverse fanfic#writing#mine#this didn't quite turn out how i expected but then again when does anything i write lmao#just some nice sweet malina feat idiots not realizing they love each other and lots of fun pining!#I HOPE U ENJOY ANA MY LOVE#it's 2am why do i keep writing at this hour sksksk#also don't entirely know how i feel about this but it issss what it isssss#maybe one day my writing style will be everything i want it to be
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Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 7
Wait for me
A/N: High School AU
Beca let out a scream and threw her phone against the wall. Her best friend, Stacie, flinched when she heard pieces of the phone hit the floor.
"Lying bitch," Beca cried. "Wait for me, she said. I love you, she said. You're the only one I want, she said. Everything she said was a lie."
"Beca," Stacie said. "It might not be what you think."
"I don't know what you were looking at," Beca said. "But all I saw was her kissing some guy."
"Beca," Stacie said. "Chloe loves you. Everybody knows that. Talk to her; find out what's really going on."
"I don't need to talk to her," Beca said. "It's obvious she's cheating on me. What other explanation could there be?"
"I don't know," Stacie said. "But, I do know Chloe, and she's no cheater."
"Why are you defending her?" Beca asked. "Her cheating is right there in full view for everyone to see."
Beca started crying and Stacie pulled her to her.
"I'm not defending her," Stacie said, hugging Beca. "I'm just saying make sure what you think happened really did happen before you say or do something you might regret."
~~ BeChloe Week 2021 - Day 7 ~~
Chloe Beale was sitting outside her favorite bistro in Paris, the City of Light, with her roommates. Conversations were happening around her, but she was not paying attention. She was lost in thought. Worrying because her girlfriend, Beca, had not returned any of her texts or been answering her calls all day. She wasn't used to not having any contact with Beca whatsoever since they got together during Junior Year.
Chloe put her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand. She let out a heavy sigh.
"Everything okay, Chloe?" her roommate, Trish, asked.
"No," Chloe said, sighing again. "Beca hasn't returned any of my texts or answered any of my calls today. I'm worried that something might have happened to her."
Trish smiled and looked around the table. The four girls became fast friends when they were assigned as roommates for the summer. They were all into art and had won a coveted spot for a summer art study abroad program.
And, all the girls knew about Chloe's girlfriend. How could they not? Chloe talked about her all the time.
"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Trish said.
"Trish is right, Chloe," Dianna said. "Beca probably forgot to charge her phone again."
"If you're really worried about her," Sandy said. "Why don't you call your friend Stacie. Isn't she the one you said was Beca's best friend? She'd most likely know what was going on with Beca."
Chloe dropped her hand and sat up straight. "That's a great idea! I'll call Stacie."
Chloe pulled her phone out and scrolled through her contacts until she found Stacie's name. She pressed send and put her phone to her ear.
"It's ringing," Chloe told the girls around her. "Oh, hey, Stace-"
"You've got some explaining to do, Chloe," Stacie said as soon as she heard Chloe's voice.
"What are you talking about?" Chloe said, furrowing her brows.
"Beca saw the picture and is an emotional mess," Stacie said.
"What picture?" Chloe asked.
"The picture of you kissing some guy," Stacie said. "Beca thinks you're cheating on her."
"What?!" Chloe screeched into the phone. "I would never-." Chloe stopped and took a breath. "I would never cheat on Beca. She should know that. You both should know that. And, I have no idea what picture you're even talking about."
Hearing Chloe's part of the conversation, Sandy pulled out her phone and started scrolling through social media.
"I didn't say you did," Stacie said. "And, I told Beca as much. But, she said the picture says you did."
"I did not cheat on her!" Chloe screamed into the phone.
Sandy held her phone up to Chloe. "She's probably talking about this picture."
Chloe took Sandy's phone and her mouth dropped open. "I did not kiss that guy!"
"No, but he kissed you," Trish said. "Remember that party about two weeks ago? Some guy grabbed you and kissed you as part of a dare."
"Oh, my God!" Chloe said. "Stacie, did you hear that?"
"I did," Stacie said. "Now you just have to explain it to Beca."
"Do you know where Beca is?" Chloe asked. "She's not answering my calls or my texts."
"When she saw the picture, she threw her phone against the wall and broke it," Stacie said. "Her dad is being a hardass and won't get her a new one until she earns the money to pay for it."
Chloe sighed and tears came to her eyes. "What am I going to do, Stacie? I need to talk to her so I can explain."
"Calm down, Chloe," Stacie said. "I'll get her to come over and have her call you from my phone, okay?"
"Okay," Chloe said. "Thanks, Stacie."
Chloe ended the call and wiped the tears from her eyes.
"So, what's happening?" Dianna asked.
"Stacie is going to have Beca call me from her phone," Chloe said. "Beca broke her phone and hasn't replaced it yet."
"That's good, right?" Sandy asked.
"I hope so," Chloe said.
~~ BeChloe Week 2021 - Day 7 ~~
"Come over, Beca," Stacie pleaded. "I talked to Chloe and it's just as I said. She did not cheat on you. Yes, the picture shows someone kissing her, but it's easily explained. I think you need to talk to her to ease your mind."
Beca let out a breath. "I'll be there in ten."
"See you then," Stacie said, but Beca had already ended the call.
Ten minutes later, true to her word, Beca was at Stacie's door.
"What did she tell you about the picture?" Beca asked as soon as they were in Stacie's room.
"Some guy grabbed her and kissed her because of some stupid dare," Stacie said. "Chloe did not kiss him; he kissed her. She doesn't know who took the picture or posted it."
"God, I'm such an idiot," Beca said, running her hand through her hair. "I should have known Chloe wouldn't cheat on me. I trust her with everything I have. I don't even know why I went there; she's never given me any reason to doubt her love for me."
"I told her I'd get you to call her from my phone," Stacie said. "Why don't you call her now?"
"I need to come up with something special," Beca said. "To let her know I'm sorry and that I love her more than anything."
"Do what you do best," Stacie said. "You know she falls in love with you more each time you sing to her."
"What should I sing?"
"I have an idea."
Stacie jumped up and ran to her closet. She came back out, carrying her guitar in one hand and sheet music in the other.
"Sing her this," Stacie said, handing the guitar and music to Beca.
Beca looked over the sheet music and smiled.
"This is perfect!" Beca said, handing the sheet music back to Stacie. "I actually know how to place this on the guitar."
Beca stood and started strumming the guitar, getting a feel for the chords. She smiled at Stacie.
"I have an idea," Beca said. "You call Chloe and tell her I have a message for her. Then hold the phone out and I'll start to sing to her."
"Okay," Stacie said, picking up her phone and calling Chloe's number.
"Beca?" Chloe answered.
"Chloe, it's me," Stacie said. "Beca has a message for you."
Stacie held out the phone and Beca started playing and singing. She skipped parts that did not convey what she wanted to and only sang the parts that did.
Oceans apart day after day
And I slowly go insane
I hear your voice on the line
But it doesn't stop the pain
Chloe teared up hearing her girlfriend singing to her through the phone.
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes
Or how my heart breaks
I will be right here waiting for you
Oh, can't you see it baby
You've got me going crazy
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes
Or how my heart breaks
I will be right here waiting for you
I wonder how we can survive
This romance
But in the end if I'm with you
I'll take the chance
Oh, can't you see it baby
You've got me going crazy
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes
Or how my heart breaks
I will be right here waiting for you
Waiting for you
Beca set the guitar down and took Stacie's phone. Stacie smiled as she got up and left the room so Beca could have some privacy while talking to Chloe.
"Babe," Beca said. "I love you so much and I know you would never cheat on me. I don't know why I even thought you did. I'm so sorry."
Chloe sniffled. "I love you, too. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you about that guy. But after I slapped him, he apologized. I didn't think it was that big of a deal and forgot about it until Trish reminded me."
"I miss you," Beca said softly. "The next three weeks are going to be torture without you."
"I miss you, too," Chloe said. "I can't wait to get back home and see you."
"I will be right here waiting for you," Beca sang, causing Chloe to chuckle softly.
"You're such a dork," Chloe said.
"That may be true," Beca retorted. "But I'm your dork."
"Always," Chloe said.
"And forever," Beca said.
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A/N: Sorry it's so brief but we've had some family stuff going on and I didn't have time to really write more for it.
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Thess vs GCSEs
So one of the many, many things going stupid in this country is a plan to cut costs by denying government-backed student loans to pupils who fail their English and Maths GCSEs. Which is going to require some explanation for those of you who don’t live in the UK, because the last time I checked (and granted, it is awhile ago but most of the excitement when exam results come in seem to be the same so I figure it’s still at least close), school here is nothing like school in North America and this situation needs to be understood to know how downright stupid it is.
See, GCSEs (General Certificate of Secondary Education) is taken in what for a North American would be their sophomore year in high school. Similar gamut of classes, too - English, Maths, Science, History, a couple of electives, etc. Thing is, that’s pretty much where compulsory secondary education stops here. So the age-range is sophomore year in high school but it could well be taken as your senior year. Now, if you want to go to university, you’re basically obliged to take A-levels (just stands for Advanced); you’re accepted by a university on a provisional basis on the strength of mock exam scores, and so long as you meet or surpass those expectations, you can go to the university that accepted you ... as long as you can pay the tuition.
Thing is, A-levels are ... different than your junior and senior years in high school in North America. You don’t spend two more years in high school and one more at university doing ‘general education’ - or at least you didn’t when I was in the pipeline. A-levels is when you start focusing. So someone aspiring to go into STEM would probably take science (chemistry, biology, physics, some combination thereof), mathematics and/or computing at A-level; whereas someone who’s planning on a BA in English will probably take English along with history, art, theatre, or whatever else takes their fancy and/or correlates with their eventual desired career path.
So ... yeah, consider: you’re planning a career in physics. Nothing you do after your A-levels is going to rely on English at all. And suddenly you can’t get a loan that’s not from a bank charging huge rates of interest, just because you couldn’t pass an exam that has nothing to do with where you’re going next, and certainly has no bearing on what A-levels you’ll be sitting and the grades that will eventually determine whether you’ve been accepted at your top-choice school. Or, conversely, you plan on going into art history but were denied a loan because you couldn’t pass the maths GCSE.
Now, I’ve seen someone respond to this by saying, “Just pass the exams; it’s not that hard”. Which has to be one of the most ableist and entitled bits of bullshit I’ve ever heard in my entire life. The casual ableism first, since it’s easiest: what if you’ve got dyslexia or dyscalculalia? What if you’re otherwise neurodivergent and do not deal well with testing of that nature as a result? Students with dyslexia, anxiety, and certain presentations of ADHD are not going to do well with a timed English essay written on the fly, just as a for-example. For some people - some very smart people - it is that hard, and the best they can hope for is suitable accommodations that might let them stand a chance in hell of passing.
And that’s where the entitlement comes in. The statement that’s being made about this particular plan is that it will shut the door in the faces of less affluent students. Which is entirely correct, because even in some very good schools, trying to get accommodations or even someone explaining something properly is a lost cause at best. I mean, I flatter myself that I’m a smart person. However, I have twice been in the situation of having gone to a teacher when struggling with a concept and that teacher not being of any help whatsoever. Ninth grade English, I actually failed a whole marking period because of grammar, of all things. I can write a grammatically correct sentence with no problem, but trying to explain it in the way that marking period’s lesson plan wanted me to was incredibly difficult. Why? Because while English is my first language, I never studied English grammar before. I could deconstruct a sentence in French with no problem, but while I could use all the rules of English grammar, I couldn’t deconstruct and name the specifics at all. I seem to recall that adverbs were a particular problem with me. So I asked my English teacher for help. Unfortunately, my English teacher that year hated me because I had some opinions about Shakespeare (namely that he was writing for the masses, not to make some Grand Artistic Statement to the world, and also I may have flagged up the dick jokes), so he just basically went, “You’re smart; you’ll figure it out”. And that was the end of that and by that rationale, I would have flunked an English GCSE if I’d had to take it that year, just because of an unwilling teacher.
And that was in a good school in an affluent area. So too was the school here in the UK in which I tried to take an AS level in maths (AS levels were something between GCSE and A-level; it was a thing). I got stuck early on and went to the teacher for help, and while the teacher did try to explain, she did not explain in a way that was clicking with me and refused to try another method. I ended up having to drop the class because if that’s how I was coping in the first couple of months, there was no way I was passing the exam.
State schools have the same problems as their US public school counterparts - too many pupils and not enough teachers, and those teachers being overworked, underpaid and abused to boot. They can’t help everyone who might need it. Students are on their own more often than not, especially if they don’t have anyone at home after school to help them (like, single-parent families or, probably more common, families where both parents have to work, because either way the parents will be too tired to help with homework when they get home). There’s not enough support for the kids who don’t need special accommodations, never mind the ones that do. The only place that support’s likely to happen is in very good private schools, the ones with smaller class sizes and better equipment.
Long story short? Kids are going to lose their chance at university because they failed an exam they might not even need to get to where they want to be in life, just because their families couldn’t afford ‘the right schools’. And without a degree ... well, I can tell you how many doors the lack of a degree slams in your face over here. So much for the “high skill, high wage economy”.
Basically this whole fucking country depresses me in ways I cannot even describe.
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Prom Queen: Chapter 1
Previous || Next
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Word Count: 1,500
Pairings: Endgame Prinxiety, Eventual Platonic LAMP, more could be included at a later point
Warning: The teeniest bit of swearing, slight food mention, Remus is mentioned briefly
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Summary: “Oh shut up,” he grumbled to it as he turned off the alarm before checking the date and sighing lowly.
It was exactly the day he had been thinking. The first day of school.
(Don’t miss the notes I have at the end of this post if you’d like to hear some additional details! There is a prologue to this story by the way, be sure to check it out!)
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The alarm blared loudly from across Virgil’s room. He tried hard to the best of his abilities to ignore it but he did make it loud for a reason.
One of those reasons being that he knew himself well enough to know that he would ignore it if he could and shut it off and go back to bed if he couldn’t. Going across the room to get it had always proved to have a higher chance of success in his experience so he had gone for that option last night.
The second reason though was because of today. Virgil shot up upon remembering and went over to his phone charging across his room, squinting at the screen.
“Oh shut up,” he grumbled to it as he turned off the alarm before checking the date and sighing lowly.
It was exactly the day he had been thinking. The first day of school.
The first day of high school in fact, the event of the decade that he and Roman had been waiting for in anticipation. Well, that was being generous but either way, they were both anticipating it for different reasons as they always seemed to do.
Virgil was not thrilled at the prospect of a new school. He would be required to learn a new campus, new classrooms, new classmates, and new teachers. Within the first week, he knew he’d be accustomed to at least the rooms for his classes but the other ones could take some getting used to. He knew that either way, he wasn’t going to get along with a majority of his classmates and he’d be too nervous to get to know any teachers or do much more than answer the occasional question or take role until they’d learned their students’ names. The campus was another issue too. Where would he be waiting in the morning? Where would he eat lunch? Did he and Roman even have the same brunch schedule? How was he getting home again? What time did his day end?
After shooting a text to Roman about one of those questions, namely in terms of the schedule, he got ready. After pulling his hoodie on over his head, he brushed a hand through his bangs to push them back before frowning at his reflection, letting them fall over his face again. He didn’t look better per say but he could see less which was always a plus in situations he was dreading. His mom had come in at some point to make sure he had actually gotten up and he was out of the house with his backpack and phone as soon as Roman bounded up his driveway.
“Virgil, it’s finally happening!” his best friend squealed, linking their arms as Virgil was tugged along down the route to their new school. “Finally, we’re high schoolers now, can you believe it?”
Virgil snorted, feeling a weight lift off his chest. One of them at least. “Can I believe it? Yeah. Do I want to? Hell no,” he muttered out with an edge of grumpiness to his voice only to have Roman laugh.
“I promise that I’ll be with you as much as I can the whole day! We’re going to have brunch and lunch together too and then I’ll take you over to my place after school!” Roman explained. He honestly made it sound so simple but really, he usually did. It even usually was, at least when Roman told him so. He just always knew how to make awful situations... easier.
“Eh, I guess I’ll take it. Though I’ve gotten a horrible end of the deal for compensation,” Virgil jeered a little, laughing to himself as Roman gasped and shoved him with an obvious smile.
“Shut up, you love me and you know it!”
Virgil’s smile came easily as they kept walking. “Yeah yeah, whatever you say,” he snorted.
Roman talked about theater, asking what productions Virgil thought they should put on, how he hoped to get some good roles this year, and then listed off some of his personal favorite musicals that he hoped he’d get to do at some point. Virgil filled in the gaps and spaces of the conversations and Roman did the rest. It was comfortable, it didn’t seem like this year would feel so bad now with things going just as they always had.
The day started off pretty alright honestly, much better than Virgil would’ve expected. Luckily he’d done a walkthrough of his schedule during registration so he knew vaguely where to go and he made it to his second period class early.
A lot of them were standard class introductions, icebreakers, and syllabuses. It seemed like exactly what he was used to in junior high, just at a different school. Some of his classes seemed pretty boring but he knew he didn’t have much of an option on the basic ones he had to take. He texted Roman between classes to see how he was fairing. He wasn’t very surprised that it was going off without a hitch.
It was a relief by the time that Virgil got to his English class right before lunch, the one class he and Roman shared together. Roman rushed in right as the bell rang and collapsed into the seat next to him, breathing out with a smile.
“Cutting it close, huh?” Virgil whispered.
“Sorry, I was a bit preoccupied,” Roman merely offered as explanation before the teacher got up and started talking, cutting their conversation short.
“Man, I am so excited for theater today! I can already tell it’s going to be so amazing!” Roman chattered excitedly as they walked out of English, making their way over to one of the more secluded areas of the campus Virgil had been able to find, setting up to eat lunch.
“Yeah, totally didn’t see that coming,” Virgil said with a slight shake of his head, smirking a bit. “It’s not like you’ve been talking about it all day. Oh wait! You have.”
“Alright alright so I will admit that I might be a little more excited than one would expect!” Roman relented, shrugging. “But! It’s just so amazing, I got into 7th period theater, Virge! I’m going to be in the actual productions!! That’s a big deal for a freshman, usually people don’t make it until maybe sophomore year, you know?”
“Well the director would’ve been an idiot if he didn’t want to put you in them, yeah? I think so anyways,” Virgil said as he took out his sketchbook.
“I suppose but still, I’m just...” Roman laughed to himself, bouncing in place. “I’m so excited, I can’t wait to meet all the new people there,” he giggled.
Virgil nodded, starting a sketch of Roman which Roman immediately posed for, knowing the drill.
“Soooo, have you met anyone interesting today?” Roman asked as Virgil was working out the shape of Roman’s nose, their eyes making contact for a second before Virgil was back to sketching.
“Nah, not really. Though somebody just kinda... Gave me a cookie during art. He said I looked like I needed it. He’s my table partner now so there’s that, you know?” Virgil said with a shrug. “He’s pretty cool I guess. Liked one of my drawings of you.”
“And you didn’t strike up a conversation? C’mon Virgil, you could be set on baked goods and a person with great taste for the rest of your life!” Roman exclaimed, shifting out of position as he threw his arms out to which Virgil gave a half-hearted glare.
“You’re dumber than I gave you credit for if you believe I can talk to people.”
“Well I may be dumb but I take it with pride like a Prince should!”
“Your brother is the smarter of the two of you,” Virgil mused.
Roman pouted. “He is not!”
“Pretty sure he is,” Virgil hummed out.
As the two conversed a little more, Virgil didn’t feel up to eating anything.
Lunch ended and the day finished up with Virgil waiting outside the auditorium for Roman to be done with theater. The two walked home with Roman going on and on about the rest of his day, telling him about all the people he had met and all the things that he had gotten up to. Apparently there was already some idea of what the fall play would be so Roman talked about it at length.
“But seriously Virgil, it was so nice of them! Two of the juniors gave me a card to welcome me, it had my name on it and everything, I can’t wait!”
Virgil merely nodded as Roman continued.
Virgil didn’t have much to say at that point, just letting Roman keep going. Virgil just listened on, focusing silently on his best friend as they made their way home.
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A/N: Hey hey hey guys, here is the first official chapter of Prom Queen! I don’t have an especially strict schedule for this story but I do try to post every other day and it works out fairly well! I’ll try not to make it be more than a couple weeks between chapters but life might get funky so if anything happens, I’ll try my best to handle it and get more chapters out!
That being said, I hope you are enjoying the story and are excited for future chapters! Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglists, either this one or my writing/art taglists in general and I’ll catch you guys next time!
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Taglist: @spookijam, @its-the-cat-queen, @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog, @tssidesfamily, @shapa-likes-art, @isabelle-stars
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[OM!] (American) College!AU Demon Brothers
Scenario: Headcanons on the demon brothers as college students (specifically in the US because I don’t know how college works elsewhere), their possible majors, career goals, extracurriculars, ~GPA~ and whatever else I could think of + how meet you in college
Note: I’m hoping to do a Part 2 with the Undateables but honestly… we’ll see lol. This is based off something ~A~ and I thought of for our specific university but we’ve made it broad enough to share HAHA this turned out VERY long
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Lucifer
Majoring in Political Sciences with a minor in Psychology
Pre-Law-- most likely immigration law or child custody (there’s definitely a backstory here)
Initially went to community college for the first two years to save up money to take care of his younger siblings
Rejected an offer to go to an Ivy League because it was too expensive; if his siblings ever found out they’d be furious that he’d give up on that chance, but he knows he can succeed wherever he goes (and besides, family is first)
Transferred into a 4-year university his junior year
Very high GPA-- VERY
In a professional fraternity with Diavolo and Barbatos
He didn’t think he’d join one either but Diavolo was the vice chair when he transferred in and the president the year after so… ~nepotism?~ and also Lucifer is charming as heck so no surprise he’d get in
Also rooms with Diavolo and Barbatos
Goes to the gym regularly just to keep fit; gets goaded by Diavolo and Satan into joining an IM team with his frat brothers and actual brothers-- probably basketball or flag football
Probably meets you at a interclub council meeting and mutters under his breath how useless the board members are and you overhear
“Never have I met more incompetent people.”
“Lmao mood”
“!!!”
Keeps sitting next to you at every interclub meeting then after because at least there’s someone that can keep his mind stimulated (thinks you’re hot if you’re competent btw)
If you somehow meet him on campus, he’s the type of guy to put his hand up and pretend he didn’t see you (just kidding, he always ends up saying hi anyways)
Will Absolutely Lecture You if you are procrastinating on studying especially if your midterm is, like, TOMORROW
Always ends up studying with him because he’s actually focused on studying and glares at you if you get distracted (but hey you get good scores in the end)
Mammon
Majoring in Business Econ/Economics, Minoring in Statistics
(always ends up in the middle of the “is econ a humanities or a STEM major” debate that leaves him left for dead)
Planning to work in Business as Finance -- probably has been treasurer or finance director for a club; can even see him being a banker if it suits his plans better
Goes to a four-year university
Decent GPA (or Lucifer would absolutely destroy him), and does REALLY well in mathematics classes
Would room with Lucifer and his posse if they all go to the same school
Probably in a Business Frat as well because he’s pretty charismatic when it comes down to it but was an RA for some of his years for the free rooming and dining hall privileges
Is a very chill and understanding RA (as in he smokes weed with you when he’s off-duty) but is surprisingly well-versed in dealing with roommate issues
Works part-time (gasp) to buy stuff off of Amazon and go out to places
Spends a lot of time exploring places with his friends, going hiking, rock-climbing, clubbing-- which is expensive, as it turns out, so he needed to be able to afford it somehow
Meets you when you’re eating your lunch outside somewhere and he asks you if you have a dollar he could borrow for a vending machine snack
You exchange numbers with him so he can pay it back (even though you honestly don’t really need it, but why not) and turns out he’s in your GE class
“Heyyy wassup! So glad I have a friend in this class”
“Oh by the way, did you finish the homework? Haha, I forgot it.”
Mammon always repays you for your help in food though so you aren’t complaining
Leviathan
Majoring in Computer Sciences
And honestly that’s too much for me already-- the man is doing computer programming, coding-- WHEW-- and they do NOT rest
Goes to a community college but honestly has no problems cinching internships. The computer is his domain-- online applications are EASY, doing projects NOT as easy, interviews? HARD-- REALLY HARD (someone help him)
Probably intends to work with a big company like Google if only to help supply his income so he can live his life going to AX and buying merch
Most likely moved out of his house mid-college with his online friends (who are luckily compatible with him living-space wise) and visits home once a week
There’s two potential sides you can meet first:
Either you meet him at a convention and you both gush about the same character and anime and somehow find each other online (not college related)
Or his favorite Ruri-chan keychain gets broken off in the computer lab, and you’re the one running after him to give it him
He may or may not owe you his life after that (and if you enjoy anime, well that’s a bonus)
Both of these meetings can happen if he doesn’t recognize you in class because you were in cosplay-- imagine the surprise
The two of you as friends are MASTER PROCRASTINATORS at every assignment the two of you have-- so low-key not a great influence-- but you have fun together watching animes, playing games, talking about life-- anything but actual work
Always ends up scrambling to finish things-- but he keeps doing it because it’s been working for him so far
You help him prepare for interviews because he’s always nervous before each one regardless of how well his application looks
Satan
Majoring in Comparative Literature AND Anthropology (ya boy is doing the whole nine yards)
Planning to get his Master’s and then a PhD in one of his majors (whichever proves to be more engaging for him)-- visibly excited to become a Professor
College was meant for Satan-- like REALLY; the man is in LOVE with learning; most likely to go and be accepted to an Ivy-League after Lucifer but... truly believes you can get a good education anywhere so it depends on his financial standing (and how much scholarship he gets)
Does get a little disgruntled when his classes aren’t available but doesn’t mind learning something new-- if the professor bores him to death, he’ll read the book
Really good at tutoring people; someone suggests that he works as a peer-learning facilitator/writing tutor and he does-- might as well make bank doing something you always do anyways
Joins a writing/journal club as an extracurricular and a club that provides tutoring services to the underserved community-- surprisingly good with kids!
He knows friends in high places, so if he wanted to, could get into any party without batting an eye and his favorite professors love him
Spends a lot of his time going out to the city and exploring places, similarly to Mammon, rock-climbing, hiking, paragliding-- anything
He is VERY well-rounded as you can see; competes with Lucifer to see whose GPA is better though
You probably meet him during office hours, and you can only stare in awe as he asks questions that you had in mind, but better; if you’re visibly confused about something, he’ll take his time to help you too (it’s habit at this point)
Ask him for his contact info and you’ll get it, and maybe repay him in coffee? (You always see him at the cafe on campus.)
Most likely to have a specific spot in a cafe that he is always at that the workers actually save a spot for him or give him his usual order before he even arrives-- may or may not have helped them edit their essays or with their homework as a thank-you so you KNOW they’ll love him forever
The type of person to help you make flashcards and cram if you need it
Asmodeus
Majoring in Dance and Fine Arts (I HC going to NYU specifically)
Considering going for an Master of Fine Arts degree but he might just move to New York and go for being a Broadway Star
College is mainly just training for him and hoping to land gigs in local theater-- and the university theater if there is one-- and building his resume for his big break
Has SO many extracurriculars, all pertaining to his career choice, but also because he enjoys what he does: drama, competitive dance team, acapella, fashion design
Makes an unbelievable amount of friends, incredibly good at networking
The first time you saw him was when he was performing for a local theater and you were in love with his performance, and the next time you saw him in the hallway of a classroom building, you told him how much you enjoyed it
Always accepts compliments about his looks with grace, but there’s something about truly being admired for his acting and singing that has him preening
Invites you to come out to his next performance, and if not his, then to another play-- and it can be a date, but up to you ;)
The man is the KING of Multiple Talents and has big dreams to match
Always finds a way to hang out with you and drag you to every club that he can use his fake-id for (and when he’s actually 21 and above, gets a little offended that he doesn’t get ID’d)
A night in the town with you is always a good night!
Sometimes when he has practical exams coming up, he asks you to watch him perform-- and he likes your compliments but actually takes getting all the moves seriously so you better pay attention!
Most likely to move far away to reach his dreams, but he would take you with him if he could-- his little star
Beelzebub
Majoring in Physiological Sciences
Pre-Nursing or Pre-Sports Medicine
He’s a little undecided, but he’s definitely going to go into the health field because he likes the idea of being able to use his strength to help others
Gets a scholarship from the university because he’s part of the football team, which is actually pretty hard on him because Fall Semester/Quarter he has to keep skipping classes for games
Always brings a snack to eat with him during lecture-- and is not afraid to bring his entire lunch and make it right in the front row, though he tends to stick to the back because they tend to have electrical plugs
You most likely meet him during lecture: he offers you an entire sandwich (not a chip bag, not fruit snacks, an entire LUNCH) because he heard your stomach growl during class
From then on, you collect notes for him when he’s gone from games and even go to games if you aren’t usually the type to just to see how he’s doing; it’s hard trying to find you among the huge bleachers, but he always asks you where you’re sitting anyways
Really appreciate it if you help him study into late at night because it IS hard balancing sports and academics
He most likely doesn’t really have any time for anything else so he usually makes up for it during the rest of the year when training is less to volunteer in the hospital or at the gym as a personal trainer
If you ask him to teach you how to properly lift weights, he’ll definitely help out and the both of you can work out together-- though you feel bad when he has to add four extra weights to each side after you finish your reps
Belphegor
Majoring in Computer Graphics/Animation
Intending to go into making animation or game design-- is one of the brothers who doesn’t really know exactly what he wants to do yet because he’s afraid that doing what he loves as a job will ruin it for him
His family reassures him that they’ll support him whether or not he continues with his path in life, but he’s considering art school and then taking internships in places so he has a better idea on what he wants
Most likely to sell his own original work and become a full-time artist regardless
I think you already know how you meet him-- he’s sleeping in a lecture hall-- either against the wall or on the small piece of wood they call a desk when class ends and he’s still sleeping; and you wake him up
Sleepily thanks you and continues to sleep through every class that you wake him up to; when you ask him why he doesn’t just go home and sleep, he tells you he’s too lazy to walk back and forth from his dorm/apartment to campus (mood)
When you add each other on Snapchat or something, he sends you pics of ‘places to nap’ on campus
You always end up studying together because he’s actually pretty good at understanding lecture stuff despite not being awake for most of it-- apparently he’s used to teaching himself
Will make you art for your birthday and will vehemently refuse payment so he just tells you to take him out for dinner instead
If you talk about how you’re not sure on what you want to do in life too, he’ll probably say ‘mood’ but is most likely to encourage you to do whatever you want to do in life too
#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me satan#obey me leviathan#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me shall we date?#ngl i would date beel in this au 100%
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Hello Stranger
[14K Words/1Hr. Read - Teacher!Bang Chan x Admin!Female Reader - Fake Relationships, Guest Appearances, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn, New Teachers, Vanilla, Office Sex, Allusions To Troubling Subjects]
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You should’ve expected a phone call when you read the email. At least then you would be somewhat prepared for the verbal lashing you were currently receiving from one of your greatest teachers.
“I’m sorry, but — wait, you know what? No I’m not, I’m not sorry — but I am not staying here with this dumpster fire waiting to happen! He’s wrecking the department — Johnny, let me talk — and I didn’t even want him here to begin with. Congratulations, ma’am, you torpedoed my program I worked so hard to build.”
Doyoung paused, waiting for you to call his bluff, to appeal to his good side as usual. He was right. He’d done so much for his school — for the district, really, and this was getting out of hand. Johnny could be heard behind him, the poor principal having apparently had his desk phone wrestled away from him to begin with.
“Mr. Kim,” you spoke into the phone, mustering all the confidence you had in you, “what do you want me to do? I mean it. Tell me what you want.”
“He goes or I go,” Doyoung dramatically laid out into your ear. Johnny could be heard trying to console the raving teacher before Doyoung apparently ducked him every few seconds. “I’m losing my mind. I have 150 students becoming fucking hypnotized and they’re influencing their peers like the plague.”
“Besides losing either of you,” you carefully negotiated, “what do you want me to do? I value your input; I always have. Dig into the meat with me here, please.”
“I will not teach beside some noble renegade who wears hoodies to class and asks his students to call him by his first name. I won’t teach in the same building, nor in the same school. This is dangerous, and you know it is. For all the money you’re throwing at PR this year you could be putting it in your students.”
You hated that Doyoung was right. This was not a great start to the year. A sigh escaped that you had not meant for, and Doyoung audibly steeled himself on the other end of the receiver. He was waiting now.
“I’m coming down there,” you announced. Apparently Johnny heard you, a god fucking dammit being heard behind Doyoung’s shoulder. Doyoung, however, was sated.
“Fine,” he replied, but he didn’t sound fine. He sounded like he was surprised he got anywhere. “I’m sorry I got so upset.”
And like that, Doyoung hung up. You slumped down in your chair, having been pacing your otherwise pristine office for the past 15 minutes which had felt more like 15 hours. You were fussily rearranging your desk, trying to calm yourself back down when your assistant finally felt it was safe enough to poke her head into your office.
“Ma’am—” Yeji greeted before you held up a hand to stop her. You pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation.
“How many more calls this week?”
“Only four,” she replied. A relieved sigh softened your tense shoulders as she set the personnel file you requested on your desk.
You felt so old now, run ragged by all the mayhem, but it wasn’t so long ago that you were young yourself. Even then, you still were according to most standards. You were the youngest assistant superintendent to ever serve the district, a set of magnet schools within the city comprised of one private Montessori primary school, one public STEM-focused junior high, and one private-public hybrid high school of the arts. You pined for the ultimate position, but that chair was long occupied by Mr. Simmons, a token favorite of the school board. He called you dear and was always acting like some big man pitying a little girl. However, this didn’t mean you hadn’t tried like hell to make an impression.
Your first three years had been a terrific uphill trajectory. In year one, you brought on Doyoung to replace the retiring choir teacher and head of the music department at the high school. To date, he’d brought in more accolades than his predecessor did in twice the time. For your second year, you collaborated with your junior high on an agricultural enrichment program that offset food costs district wide to the point you could improve offerings in all three cafeterias. This year, you re-established the district PTA. Doyoung’s rabid Booster Club and the parents of the junior high’s robotics team made up the first meeting, and more and more parents had joined since.
So it only seemed fair that this year was your first true hurdle. It had been such an innocent decision: you took a proposed program from the junior high and adapted it for your high school students. A music production and distribution program was a clean, sleek idea that was sure to impress the PTA and enrich the lives of your students in their already affluent music department and work as a dual credit with the business side of the class. What you hadn’t betted on, however, was what exactly a young teacher could get into in a high school setting.
Chris Bang wasn’t naive — you were sure of it, looking at his portfolio. He’d cut his teeth independently producing from a young age and gathering a loyal following online. This was a concept you understood well enough, but had a time and a half explaining to anyone older than you, it seemed. Anyone older than you, but also especially Doyoung, who was very fiercely proud of his hard work to get his double Masters in Choral Conducting and Music Theory at 21 and didn’t have the patience for homegrown prodigies. You couldn’t blame Doyoung, really, even with his dramatics. His competition choir was a force to be reckoned with — surprisingly disciplined, endlessly talented, and ravenously competitive — and now two of his students were wrapped up in all this, too, and that was just the extent you were aware of.
You tapped out an IM to Yeji from your desktop, asking her to come back into your office, and she dutifully popped in a few seconds later. She pulled up a chair in front of your desk as you rested your head in your hands for a moment. “Tell me, Yeji,” you sighed, “what’s your read on this?”
“Well, ma’am,” she mulled it over, “it’s not great. It’s awful, really. But it’s hard to tell by now what’s real, what’s a cry for attention, or what feels real but is actually just the zeitgeist. You know how this is, what it can turn into.”
You did. You’d remembered your own whirlwind feelings at a similar age, even just out of high school. Strangers and dissenters had a hard time believing it, but before you had assumed the role of meticulously poised and proper, you were frustratingly belligerent and stubborn like many of your peers when you were younger. It was easy to recall how real, how present every moment was at the time, but you didn’t even remember the whole story now. In fact, you hadn’t thought of that story in ages, but you were suddenly reminded of the smell of pine trees and sugar, the cool electricity of being out past midnight. It was quite possibly the most excited you’d ever felt, but now you couldn’t remember the fine details, the corners sanded down to curves over time. To your students, these letters were the most exciting and dramatic thing to ever happen to them, and if they would remember the details later on would depend on how you handled the situation.
The first letter surfaced just a week before, and online of all places. A full declaration of this girl’s undying love for Chris and all of the very, very, very inappropriate things she wanted to do with him, found in an envelope on the keyboard outside his office and posted online before he could ever see it. The next letter was eventually found two days later, apparently picked up from where it had missed the trash can: a 17 year old boy, feeling emboldened enough to finally profess who he was — gay, madly in love with Chris, and willing to risk it all. A third was stolen from a girl’s backpack from some bullies and she had been a wreck, so sure that Chris had picked one of the other two and she’d missed her chance. That girl hadn’t returned to school yet. Who knew what else was going on in the hallways, in the cafeteria and bathrooms, in the parking lot after school?
Four more parents contacted your office, according to Yeji. Four more letters. And now Doyoung was threatening to quit, for added reasons you hadn’t even been aware of. You flipped through Chris’ personnel file, hoping not to find any red flags, but hopefully find any reason this spiraled out of control, anything other than tumultuous teenage life wreaking havoc on your students.
Your sigh renewed in spades as you glanced at your assistant again. “Who do you remember most from high school?”
Yeji’s eyes were cast downward as she thought about it. “Other than my friends? Probably the student teacher in my auto class,” she blissfully reminisced. “The teacher would sleep half the time and the student teacher would just teach us whatever we wanted to know and what we needed to know for tests. I remember I had the biggest crush because of that.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” Yeji gave an apologetic smile. “What about you?”
Her question knocked you off your feet for a moment. For some reason, you hadn’t been expecting it, but you immediately had an answer. “Aside from friends? Weirdly enough,” you began, “someone I didn’t meet until graduation.”
As sickly sentimental as the thought of it was, it was true. You didn’t even remember that boy’s name anymore, but you’d met exactly three times before you left for college. He had been hanging out by the bonfire on the beach at a grad party no one had expected to get so crazy. You couldn’t remember your conversation, but you could remember his bleached hair tucked under a beanie catching your eye as he sat by himself, his friends apparently wreaking havoc on their own somewhere. His lip ring was crooked, and in a fit of beer-buzzed confidence you’d fixed it for him while you talked about the phony gravitas of graduation. You’d almost kissed him, too, connecting over things that seemed way more kismet than they probably were when your friends finally made you walk home with them.
You gathered up the rest of your patience and courage as you bid Yeji goodbye until your return and headed out to your car in the lot, making the tedious journey to the high school. The handsomely vintage architecture was charmingly modern inside the gates and within its walls, but not overly so. However, this also meant the school was a hike and a maze to navigate through to find the music department. You were distracted, though, missing a turn here or there and having to turn back a couple times now that you were suddenly remembering your clandestine romance from years ago. What was his name? It wasn’t even that long ago. Had so much really happened since then? You wracked your brain. He had a reasonably fresh and nice scratcher tattoo on his bicep, you remembered, but you couldn’t remember what it was for some reason, just like his name. He had to have said it in one of these memory bites.
The second time you’d met, he’d been handing out flyers on the boardwalk for his own show at a rave in a warehouse on the other side of town, out where the beach met the woods. He’d seen you before you’d seen him, and he had popped up with a greeting of Hello, stranger. He had made you promise to be there, which is where you met the third and final time later that night. He greeted you again the same way. Hello, stranger. You’d thought it was cute then, and still did, which must be why you still remembered that detail, at least. He liked your shoes, your worn work boots you’d picked up at a thrift store and refused to get rid of despite all the times your parents asked.
Those warehouse shows were always nuts, all sorts of vendors arriving who were willing to shack up with any event that passed through. He had bought you cotton candy from one of these vendors when you met him after his set and you chatted as you walked along the tree line, talking about his dreams of becoming rich and famous on his own terms. He kissed you, once, and you tasted his lip ring and spun sugar for weeks. You found yourself wondering now if he ever did become rich and famous.
Doyoung gave you a passing glance in the hall as you stalked towards Chris’s classroom: he looked impatient but thrilled and, sure enough, well dressed in his usual suit and tie. You wondered if this new staff member was exactly what Doyoung was fear mongering. Maybe it was simply a difference in values. This was Chris’ first year teaching professionally, you remembered, and now you felt miserably guilty. What a horrible way to start a career. You hadn’t even visited your new teacher since he began, but just the door outside his room was a mess. Doyoung’s fretting made more sense now. Even though you’d only gotten four phone calls, Chris’s classroom door was plastered in letters.
The door creaked and fluttered as you opened it and peeked your head inside. The room was devoid of any human presence. For a space that needed to serve multiple purposes, it was sparsely filled except for classroom materials and equipment. Regular desks and chairs filled the floor as opposed to risers or music stands like in the other department classrooms, but there was still a soundproof practice room in the back of the room, and only the recording equipment stored around the room gave any hint to the classroom’s purpose. To deal with the mess after the third letter, a sub was leading Chris’s classes in the library, but you at least expected to find him here himself, or at least some posters or framed photos. You peeked inside the small office at the head of the classroom, finding it just as empty as well, but with some more personality. A few extra milk crates of visibly nicer vinyl records for sampling and listening were stacked beside the desk along with a nicer record player than what was by his desk out in the classroom. Some books sat on a shelf with a modest cactus in the corner, and finally some photos: Chris shaking hands and smiling with tons of industry players and friends, and occasionally appearing in one of those hoodies Doyoung had been warning of. He did own suits, apparently. Multiple. And he looked good in them.
A polite cough surprised you at the door of the office.
You whirled around, the sun outside silhouetting Chris as he stared at you in his dimly lit office. “My office hours are cancelled this week. May I help you?”
It was your turn to cough, clearing your throat. He was certainly young. He was certainly handsome, his grimace pronouncing the charming dimples in his cheeks. He certainly didn’t dress like a teacher. Chris stood in the doorway of his own office, looking at you curiously in his hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. He even had a backpack hung on his shoulder and a bag of greasy fast food in his hands. He suddenly looked down at it, embarrassed.
“I, er, wore out my welcome in the teacher’s lounge, it seems,” he sighed out a sullen laugh. “And I needed some fresh air.”
“Mr. Bang, I—“
“Call me Chris,” he insisted with a tired grin. Your heart shamefully thumped at how friendly and cute he was. It was easier to pretend you didn’t hear him. He stepped around you and dropped down into his desk chair. He silently gestured at his food, appearing to ask if you were alright if he ate while you talked. You nodded. He dug into the bag and cheekily offered you a fry. You coolly shook your head.
“I’m sorry we have to meet like this, but as assistant superintendent—“
Chris sputtered, standing up from his chair as he choked down the fry he’d just put in his mouth. “Ma’am,” he gasped finally, “I didn’t—“
“I know,” you nodded again. You waved up a hand in understanding. “Please, sit back down. I wanted to come by and see how you’re doing, considering the current state of affairs.”
Chris stayed standing, uneasy and fidgeting. “Alright, what do you want? Is this it? Please don’t suggest I need an attorney, I don’t think I can handle it.”
“What?” You asked, surprised.
“I’m sorry for snapping,” Chris lamented, “but I’ve gotten dozens of emails and messages through the school portal from parents and students asking me if I did anything, and it’s doing my head in.”
“They’re what?!” You hadn’t even considered anyone actually thought the teacher was guilty of anything. He nodded gravely.
“Read the letters outside!” His demand came out brokenly as he pointed behind you. “They’re begging me and taunting me to do all sorts of shit. Confess, quit, fuck them — all sorts of awful trash that I never even imagined. I just wanted to teach. I don’t know why the hell this is happening to me.”
You had no idea about any harassment. This looked bad. It looked bad to your students, their parents, the staff — everyone. You pulled out your phone from your purse and brought up the PR rep’s number, now on your speed dial. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Of course I didn’t—“ he sputtered before you cut him off.
“I wasn’t asking, Mr. Bang. You didn’t do anything and I believe you. A good superintendent would support good staff. Your first few months brought nothing but praise past my office.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Chris quietly said. He finally sat down as you dialed the rep. She would be by shortly. You found another chair hiding under a pile of books and cds and moved them so you could sit. Chris was looking at you oddly now as you hung up, sitting closer than you’d normally like in the small office. You shifted uncomfortably. Chris offered you a fry again before you stiffly refused once more. He shrugged and began inhaling his food in earnest.
“Hungry?” You asked sarcastically, instantly regretting it. There was no sense in kicking him while he was down.
“Emotional eater,” he clarified around a mouthful, equally sarcastic in your resumed awkward silence. You considered the young teacher in front of you. If you recalled the personnel file, he wasn’t just a brand new teacher, he was new to the area as well. A rumor apparently spread among the students and even some of your staff that he had been running away from something, but you never paid that any attention until you were actually in the same room with him. He caught you zoning out in his direction, an eyebrow raised as he paused on his mouthful of food, and you sheepishly pulled out your phone and checked your agenda until your rep finally found you hiding out together in the tiny office.
Ryujin had become your go-to girl since the school year started but even more so over the past week. Public relations for a school district should never have to become very high-maintenance work, but Ryujin was quickly proving herself over-qualified for the job. She stood in the doorway, tall and cool in her confidence despite her short stature as she looked over the situation.
“Stand up,” she simply directed Chris.
He gave you a quick glance, not moving until you nodded. Chris set his food down and stood, hands in his hoodie pockets as Ryujin circled him. He warily shied away from her prodding as she pinched and pulled at his clothes, looking at tags and labels. She fiddled with the cute studs in his ears, tugged on the strings of his hoodie to draw him more to her level, and ruffled his dark, fluffy hair to look for showing roots or product. Ryujin looked at you now. “This isn’t so bad,” she told you decidedly.
Chris was confused, left about ten miles behind the conversation. “Why—“
“What do we do?” You asked. Chris looked wildly between both of you as you decided his fate without him. “We’re dealing with harassment now.”
“Of course we are,” Ryujin nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, look at him.”
“Hey!” Chris rightfully looked offended, even as you held up a calming hand to settle him down. Ryujin impatiently waited for you to let her continue.
“He doesn’t look like a teacher, he doesn’t act like a teacher, he’s under 30, and— I’m sorry— he’s cute. He was bound to get eaten alive when his students are only a few years younger than him and he has no experience.”
“So,” you reiterated, “what do we do?”
“He can go back to teaching,” Ryujin ruled, “but he has to look and act the part. No more first-name basis, no more street clothes.”
“This is so ridiculous!” Chris laughed in disbelief.
Both you and Ryujin glared at him now before she continued. “He’ll have to make a statement first. I’ll write it, of course. He can speak at the next PTA meeting. But —“ she turned to face him for once, “you shouldn’t be alone. Do you have a spouse? A partner? Some boyfriend or girlfriend?”
Now you shared Chris’ confused look. “Why does that matter?”
Ryujin folded her arms. “I don’t mince words. Sympathy, mostly. For anyone worrying, he’ll clearly appear to have support. For anyone who is doubting him, he clearly appears to have a loyal and loving presence in his life that can attest to Mr. Bang never having any nefarious predilection for his students and never intending to inspire any regrettable actions. It’s ultimately a similar reason to why I suggested you should wear a wedding ring.”
Your face heated up once again at being outed in front of your staff member. Ryujin had suggested a fake wedding ring ages ago when you first hired her. The moment you were appointed, parents instantly began doubting you. Even Superintendent Simmons, a parent himself, questioned you at your third interview. How could you — a young woman with no spouse and no children of your own — ever deign to understand what it’s like to raise and nurture one? The sheer stubbornness that you felt in response to that sentiment made you refuse such a placating notion as a fake wedding ring. Chris seemed to notice your embarrassment before he piped up himself, almost seeming to want to change the subject back for your sake.
“No,” Chris said simply, “I’m single and fine with it.”
“Look,” Ryujin rolled her eyes, “that is fine. Find a fake, then. It just needs to look real. It’s not fair, but these parents will assume you’re a better person if you’re not single in this situation. They need to see that you’re a loving and committed professional who just wants to teach and nurture young minds. The next PTA meeting is this Thursday night. Today is Tuesday, so you have a little time, but not much. Consider it, and I’ll have an optional line in your statement for whatever you decide. Do you have a suit?”
“For funerals and weddings,” Chris grumbled.
“A sweater is fine then,” Ryujin shrugged. She put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “This is going to be fine. Let me know if you need anything.”
“You’re leaving?” You realized with thorough embarrassment that you sounded distressed.
“Unfortunately, yes,” she sighed, “the Superintendent wants a meeting about his son or something. You will be fine. Keep me updated.”
Ryujin ghosted out the door as fast as she’d come, and Chris reeled. “The nerve! I can’t believe her, can you?”
“Yes,” you nodded seriously, “I can. She’s right.”
“Oh, come on!” Chris blustered. You stood back up now, gathering your bag in the crook of your arm and straightening the carefully pressed collar of your suit jacket.
“I don’t want to see you have to end your career so soon, Mr. Bang,” you sympathized as you pulled out a business card from your purse and handed it to him. “Again, I’ve only heard good things about you until all this. Call me if you need anything. You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”
Things settled for one day. And then Thursday morning happened. Yeji was pale as you entered the office in the morning.
“John called from his cell.”
You checked your watch. First period was just starting at the high school.
God dammit.
You jogged into your office, grabbed the phone, and dialed him back. Johnny was out of breath. “I have a situation,” he panted into the phone. You could hear shouting behind him. Specifically, you could hear Doyoung shouting behind him. God dammit.
The tires on your car screeched as you peeled out of the parking lot of the admin building, tearing across town and barely breathing until you passed through Johnny’s office on your way into the building. He was icing his cheek with a cold pack from the nurse, his tie loose and slack around his neck and his suit jacket haphazardly slung over the back of his chair. Before you could say anything, he just shook his head with a disappointed laugh before returning to work at his computer. You walked quickly through the hallway, students watching you from their first period classrooms until you reached the music department. Taeil, the band teacher, closed Doyoung’s door behind him as he saw you in the hall.
“Ma’am,” the teacher greeted, thoroughly exhausted, “I wouldn’t go in there. We already called a sub for the rest of the day and I took Doyoung’s kids to the library for independent study.”
“Thank you, Mr. Moon,” you thanked him graciously, “do you have any idea what happened?” Taeil shrugged helplessly. His tie was crooked as well, his rolled sleeves uneven. You looked over at Chris’ room, open to the hall. Letters had shuffled off the door and onto the hallway floor. “Take care of Doyoung,” you instructed Taeil, “make sure he’s okay and that he gets home alright.”
Taeil nodded and let himself back into Doyoung’s classroom as you carefully approached Chris’. The room was dark, books and papers strewn across the floor. You cautiously switched on the light, only to find the teacher slumped in his chair at the head of the room, icing his own face with a metal water bottle. He silently glanced at you and sighed as you rushed over to check on him. You set your purse on his desk and gingerly pulled the water bottle away, sharing Chris’ sigh as you saw the bruise on his cheek. It felt a bit gross to still find him so frustratingly handsome in this moment.
“What happened?” You softly asked him. Chris sank into the chair and gave a dejected shrug, helpless to recollect. And he didn’t get much of a chance to even try, as a commotion erupted in the empty hallway. Doyoung stood fuming in the doorway with Taeil futilely attempting to pull him away.
“So you are here,” Doyoung grimaced at you before he shot a glare at Taeil, “why are you lying for her? Everyone is treating me like I’m insane and I’ve had it.” He stormed over, only stopped as you turned to press a confrontational hand to his chest. Doyoung had quite the busted lip.
“Mr. Kim, I know tensions are high—” you began staunchly before Doyoung steamrolled you.
“Do you?! Do you even know what happened?” He leaned to the side, staring daggers into Chris. “Tell her, you sorry excuse of a—“
“I’m telling you, Kim, just like I have been telling you,” Chris glowered, “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about! You’re the one who came in here looking to start a fight.”
“You’re a goddamn liar!” Doyoung shouted. You put your hands on his shoulders, making him look at you.
“Tell me, then, Mr. Kim.”
Doyoung shiftily looked back and forth between the two of you. “Tell you what, ma’am?” he grumbled. “Tell you that I had the joy of overhearing one of my brightest students talking with her friends during zero period, bragging about fucking in his practice room? Tell you that she’s just a freshman? Tell you that I caught her and her friends giggling as she wrote her own fucking letter?”
Doyoung pulled a crumpled piece of notebook paper out of his suit jacket and shoved it into your hands. You looked back at Chris, his shaking eyes horrified as he was apparently hearing this all for the first time.
“I admit, I took matters into my own hands. I flew off the handle. Why, though, would I come to you with all this first, ma’am?” Doyoung pleaded. You recognized the helpless heartache in his eyes, hating how much he was losing his students. “You wouldn’t come to me first if I asked for your help. You’d go straight to him.”
You glanced down at the notebook paper in your hands, catching glimpses of curly, naive confessions, and you looked back at Chris again. He didn’t look guilty. You didn’t want him to be. You wanted this all resolved, as cleanly as possible before you possibly wrecked the year before winter break. You thought fast.
“I did go to him first, Mr. Kim,” you conceded, quiet yet confident, “and I apologize if my actions come across as selfish, but this ordeal has caused quite the strain on mine and Chris’ relationship, even more so since it’s still fairly new.”
Doyoung backed up, aghast as his eyes flicked between the two of you again. His normally soft gaze was pure hellfire. “You’re kidding me,” he shook his head in disbelief. He had no interest in waiting for a confirmation before he turned to storm off, herding Taeil along with him.
Chris was staring at you when you turned back to face him, shocked as he was at your sudden plan. “Why the hell did you do that?”
You pulled out your phone to dial Ryujin, but before you actually sent the call through, you bored your eyes into Chris, who was still wincing past the bruise on his face. “You still didn’t do anything?”
“Never,” he adamantly shook his head.
“Good,” you nodded. “We will need to talk before the PTA meeting tonight. My assistant will call you with details.” You plucked your purse up from his desk and shouldered it. Chris watched, still stunned as you made for the door. His continued stare made you pause, a hand on the door frame as you turned back to face him. “You’re innocent,” you explained, “but if you quit you’ll be proving everyone who’s doubting you right. It seems like no one is on your side except me, so if no one will do anything then I will. You’ll be fine, Mr. Bang.” With that, you regained your confidence once more to walk down the hall. You caught your breath before you tapped out a message for Ryujin on your phone. Somehow, you didn’t expect her to call you right away.
“I’m sorry, but you what?!” Ryujin exclaimed, stooping you in your tracks from wherever she was.
“You said he needs to find someone and make it look real!” You hissed, trying to keep your composure the best you could in the quiet hallway.
“I didn’t mean you!”
You grumbled out a curse under your breath. “Well, it’s a bit too late for that clarification,” you bit out, “so what do I do now?”
Ryujin could be heard tapping on her cell phone as she spoke to you. “I’m on it,” she assured you, “and I’m sure you already figured you need to talk before the PTA meeting tonight. We need to make sure you’re on the same page. I’m forwarding you the statement I wrote. Hang tight, I’m going to meet you at your place.”
Chris frowned at the suit laid out on top of your couch after you’d extracted it from its garment bag. Ryujin had brought it, on loan from some unnamed resource, complete with notecards of her prepared statement in the breast pocket. “Why does this also feel like proving everyone right for some reason,” he said uncomfortably.
“What exactly is wrong?” You sighed. Chris fidgeted. He looked out of place in your apartment, his soft black hoodie and worn jeans contrasting starkly with your minimalist and meticulously organized sanctuary. His brows were furrowed with impending panic, but he looked determined.
“I’m nervous,” he bemoaned, “tell it to me again.”
“We met over the summer at a cafe downtown,” you explained impatiently.
“That’s so soon for someone like you to be backing up a pariah like me,” Chris laughed, almost on the verge of breakdown, apparently. He was choking down a milkshake. He’d brought you one too, of course, but when you politely refused he took it as a consolation prize. It was incredible to you that he seemed to be in such good shape for how much food he put down. Or, you realized, maybe a catastrophe of this caliber wasn’t very common for him.
“Put on the suit, Mr. Bang,” you urged, “please?”
“Oh my god, you need to stop calling me that if we’re dating!” Chan nervously laughed again.
“Look, I’ll be just fine, I’ll be able to fix it when we’re in front of people,” you insisted, “but you need to calm down.”
“Calm down? I’m having an entire escape plan thrust upon me and I’m trying to adjust.”
“Well,” you huffed as you found yourself meeting his level, “maybe you wouldn’t need this escape plan if you didn’t take such a lax approach to teaching.”
“Excuse me?” Chris asked, blindsided by your outburst.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what people are saying!” You doubled down in defense, squaring up against him as you impatiently folded your arms.
“Why don’t you tell me, ma’am, what exactly people are saying about me?” Chris stood defiantly, toe to toe with you and daring you to follow through. You took the bait.
“You know exactly what people are saying,” you challenged him, “that you refuse to take the role seriously because it’s easier that way. You give these students too much freedom, and you’re encouraging them to act out. Who needs homework? Who needs textbooks? Who needs seating charts? They call you by your first name and think you’re their best friend, that you’re one of them, only older, just like they wish they were! They live and die by your approval because you seem so cool and you don’t seem like a teacher.”
“Oh, so I don’t seem like a teacher now?” Chris scoffed.
“They certainly don’t respect you like one,” you snapped. A deep pause coursed through you both like a cold breeze before he burst.
“Well you sure as hell don’t respect me like one, so why the hell are you helping me?!” Chris shouted.
“Well,” you mocked, quickly losing grip, “here I was thinking it was the right thing to do!” You heaved out a frustrated sigh, throwing your hands in the air and finally turning away as you couldn’t stand to look at him.
However, you may have glossed over the in-progress milkshake that had been in his hands, now currently all over his hoodie and on the spotless hardwood floor of your apartment.
“Oh, great!” Chris laughed incredulously. “I sure look like I could use the help now, Miss Assistant Superintendent. Guess I’ll put on the stupid suit so I don’t make a bigger fool out of myself at my public execution tonight.”
Your face regrettably heated up as Chris frustratedly tugged his hoodie off over his head, his shirt following right after as he fished the pressed white shirt out from within the suit jacket. He had an admittedly nice figure, his toned torso never being hinted at through his comfy wardrobe. A set of tattooed compass roses on his upper arm caught your attention, and you wished you didn’t find it attractively endearing. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” he ranted, “no one would ever believe I’d date a stuck-up, uptight, tyrant like you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” you fumed as you turned away, not wanting to get distracted, “except no one would believe I’d ever date an arrogant ingrate like you.”
Chris could be heard pacing behind you as he buttoned the shirt, apparently pausing at your mantle over the fireplace. “I bet you were a nightmare as a student, a real grade-grubber and brown-noser,” he grumbled, now seeming to have found your framed photos of you and your friends at graduation, first from high school and then from undergrad. “I’m going to hang myself with this godawful tie— is this you?”
You rolled your eyes as you walked over and snatched his tie out of his fingers to do it yourself. He’d already deftly changed his pants while you weren’t watching. “Sure, that’s me,” you muttered, “and no, I wasn’t a nightmare, thank you very much.” You paused as you felt a shift in his silence and glanced up at him. For the first time you noticed a subtle cologne on him, a gentle musk that was miserably attractive on him and you just wanted to get this over with even faster. Chris was giving you that indecipherable look again as you fiddled with the stupid necktie. From this close, you could see a cute little dot just under his lip, a telltale spacer that more than likely usually held a lip ring and—
Oh.
Hello, stranger.
Chris was gravely silent as he parked in front of your apartment later that night. The PTA meeting had been a disaster, starting the moment you left to travel back to the high school, where the meetings were held in the main theater. A loaded silence had staked itself between you the whole drive, and neither of you had reviewed Ryujin’s statement whatsoever. Nonetheless, you sat and stood close enough to each other during the meeting to be clear but not obscene in what you both were implying with your proximity, and you were faithfully beside him as he approached the podium. It was difficult to ignore the hushed whispers resounding through the audience. Chris’ brazen confidence was all but gone by now, fully broken as multiple hands immediately shot up to get a word in. Chris had forged ahead, though, even as his hands tried not to tremble around his notes. Ryujin’s statement didn’t mince words, just like her. He read out how his inexperience wrongly led him to take a more casual approach to teaching, how he’d recklessly and misguidedly inspired his students to put too much trust in him. He read out what a struggle this presented for both of you, being faced with accusations of such severity, and wishing to regain the trust of the assembled teachers and parents. The hands stayed in the air, and Johnny moderated question after question and Chris adamantly confirmed again and again and again that he had done nothing except naively neglect to put a firmer stop to all this. He was the one, and not Ryujin, to say that he should have brought the letters to Johnny’s attention and not simply ignored them, hoping the situation would stop on its own. More hands kept raising. Seemingly every parent belonging to a letter on Chris’ door was here wanting personal reassurance and, subsequently, a reason from him that their children were acting out. It felt like a never ending ordeal, a constant string of hurt and confused parents needing comfort. Johnny had no words for Chris when he finally ended the meeting, putting him out of his misery. Nothing else got done on the agenda that night. He only clapped a sympathetic hand to his teacher’s shoulder.
You tapped out what happened in a text message to Ryujin. Her diagnosis was optimistic but tough, and in your continued silence in the car, you suddenly realized you were stopped in front of your apartment. Chris was quiet, zoning out at the wheel until you nudged him.
“Ryujin says we can still do this,” you encouraged him. “Enough of the parents should believe you. We just need to make sure the students and staff do, too…. as well as the board.”
Chris leaned forward, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. “I wish they didn’t have to believe me. They’re probably stressed as hell over this. This whole thing is such shit,” he muttered. “We don’t even like each other.”
“We don’t?”
“What?” Chris sullenly chuckled. “Just because we did ages ago?”
“I mean,” you shrugged, “I remembered that pretty fondly. I thought of that kiss all summer.”
“We kissed?”
Ouch.
You sighed. “Fine then. You’re right. We don’t like each other. You’re cocky and naive and I’m…”
“Uptight?” Chris smirked, but he shut his mouth when you clearly didn’t appreciate the jab. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate everything you’re doing, you know. I just… I’m going through it.”
“I know,” you commiserated.
“What do we do now?”
“There’s a board meeting next Wednesday night,” you explained. “You can accompany me to that, and that’ll take care of them. Until then, we keep up appearances at school, now that we’re exposed.”
“How are we doing that?”
“I’ll figure something out,” you reassured him. “What’ll you do now?”
“Oh, you know,” Chris laughed tiredly, “probably go pick up a taco box and try not to ruin this suit.”
You nodded in understanding as you unbuckled your seatbelt and dug around in your bag for your keys. “No hoodies, okay?”
Chris nodded, watching as you stepped out of the car and fussily smoothed your skirt back down. “Do you need me to walk you up?”
“I can manage,” you grinned softly as you pulled something out of your bag. You handed him the offending note from that morning. “I didn’t do this just because I thought you didn’t do anything. This letter is addressed to a Chris but it appears to actually be a student named Christian S.”
“Oh,” Chris grimaced, “isn’t he Superintendent Simmons’ son? I have him in fourth period. He’s one of the first chairs in Taeil’s concert band. He’s sort of… gross, sometimes, about girls. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I’m still disappointed.”
“You alright?”
“I should’ve done something,” he muttered as he sank back into his seat, still staring at the letter.
“Don’t start with that,” you lightly admonished, “it’s not always easy to know when to interfere.”
“Thank you,” Chris said quietly.
“Of course,” you said with a small smile. “Goodnight.”
Johnny and Doyoung did a double-take as you walked into the music department the following day at lunchtime. It only made sense to you that if Chris was trying to dress up more, you’d match him by dressing down more. Your requisite suit and heels were switched out for a simple blouse with some tailored jeans and flats. That alone was a huge step for you, considering you even refused to dress down for the annual Welcome Back picnic for the district staff every year. You felt uncomfortable despite still looking clean and poised, but leagues more approachable apparently, proven as students’ passing glances lingered on their way to the cafeteria. Johnny’s look was simply one of surprise, but Doyoung’s was nothing but bitterness. Even Chris, as he happened to prop open his classroom door when you walked down the hall, was curious to see you looking so casual and chipper as you strutted up to him with a bundle in your arms. He was surprisingly handsome, wearing a blazer over a simple t-shirt with some slim jeans and sneakers — better, but not quite there. He couldn’t help a small smile as you theatrically revealed what you had brought: his cleaned hoodie and shirt folded and draped over a bag of takeout to split.
“Hungry?” You asked sweetly, but hopefully not overdone. A couple of students walked past, their eyes boring into you. Chris looked unfazed, took the hoodie and shirt from your hands and, with a quick look down the hall at Doyoung and Johnny, beckoned you into the classroom with a nod.
“Starving,” he answered with a grin, and even gave Johnny a cheery wave as he promptly shut the door again behind you. “What are you doing here?” He quietly asked you, the dazzling facade of confidence instantly crumbling. His panicked surprise wasn’t lost on you.
“We need to keep up appearances like I said. It’s Friday, you’re going through a hard time, and you’re eating like you grew another stomach. I brought us something to eat,” you explained, pushing the bag into his hands.
“You—“ Chris looked dumbfounded, eyes darting between you and the food in his hands, “— brought me lunch?”
“Yes? What else was this supposed to be? I’m your girlfriend, for all intents and purposes.” You led Chris back into his own office and helped yourself to a seat. “We also need to brush up on our relationship in case anyone asks.”
“Fine,” Chris nodded as he dug into his food. “Let’s study, then. I’m guessing you went to college right after we met, and I’m sure you taught at least a little before this.”
“Grade schoolers,” you nodded, “it was good but not for me. I never asked about your accent.”
“You did, actually. That first time, so that’s probably why you don’t remember. I grew up in Sydney, moved here before junior year in high school. Do you live by yourself? I didn’t see a roommate or any cats.”
“I live by myself,” you confirmed, “I gave up on roommates around the time I took this job. No time for pets, either. I guess I’m too uptight.” Chris winced as you continued. “Yes, I’m aware of it; I guess I’m just sensitive. Did you find a good place in the area?”
“Yeah,” Chris said thoughtfully, “cute little house. You should probably see it sometime.”
“You bought a house?!”
Chris’ ears reddened. “Yes? Again, it’s little. A couple bedrooms, a couple bathrooms. Lots of work to be done on it, but it’s all mine. Here, look.” You watched, momentarily stunned as he fished his phone out of his pocket and clicked it open. He pulled up a surprisingly adorable photo of Chris in front of a humble little house, holding what you could only assume was his dog you didn’t know he had. “Cute, right? Her name is Berry. You should meet her.”
“I’m so sorry,” you shook your head in advance, “but you could afford a house? What brought you to teaching anyway?”
“Producing was good, but not for me,” Chris meekly bit at his lip, “I always wanted to try teaching what I know, and thankfully your team brought me on while I’m still earning my degree.”
“So one day you just decided to be an educator?” You asked dubiously.
“Didn’t you?” Chris seemed more cagey now, more defensive.
“Sure, but maybe this explains your approach to teaching.”
Chris sighed hard and set his food down. “You know what? I knew you were bringing it back to that. Here I was thinking we were on a little better footing after last night. My approach to teaching came from thinking of what I wanted when I was these kids’ age. I wanted someone to treat me with respect and value my opinion and talk to me like an adult.”
“Right,” you nodded, “but that acceptance clearly looks like an invitation to some students.”
“An invitation to what? The other staff are always saying how closed off their students are, but they’re not like that with me. They’re proactive, they’re independent, they’re thoughtful, they’re excited to be here.”
“What about students who aren’t yours?” You challenged him with your stare. It would’ve looked better in a suit. “Your students are in love with you — some of them literally — and it makes them act out with their other teachers, even students who aren’t yours are citing you as their inspiration. Terrific and capable teachers are being defied simply because they’re not you. Admit this is easier for you than establishing and upholding boundaries.”
Chris listened, but he scoffed nonetheless. “Fine. It’s easier. I’m terrified of these kids but I want them to like me and trust me. But even if I assign them homework and treat them like they’re children, that still won’t solve how the teachers don’t trust me.”
“They will,” you impatiently assured him.
“Even Doyoung?”
“Why do you care?!” You gave a stunned chuckle.
“I mean he punched me in the fucking face yesterday,” Chris shrugged. “Is it true you two dated?”
You gaped at him, stunned. “Why do you care?” You repeated. Chris nonchalantly shrugged. “Are you jealous?” You were provoking him on purpose, but there was no use in pretending you weren’t disgusted with this line of questioning.
“No! We don’t even like each other.” Chris was floundering, now facing his desk more than you. “I’m a naive and arrogant asshole and you’re an uptight ballbuster who sold out, remember?”
“Sold out?” You guffawed, standing up now. “Who the hell do you think you are?! I grew up.”
“Right, well—“ Chris barked as he got up to square off against you. “Did you grow into a stuck-up busybody who is more worried about how she looks than how she’s doing?”
Chris’ ears were burning scarlet as you bristled at his words, but he still walked you to the door as you stormed away. “That was too much. I’m sorry,” he apologized sheepishly before he opened the classroom door into the hall.
“Go fuck yourself, Mr. Bang,” you quietly gritted out, despite your saccharine smile in case anyone was watching. “I’m helping you and then I’m never speaking to you again.”
You were right back in your suit jacket and skirt on Monday, having stewed all weekend over how much more you hated doing this with Chris now. Worse, you hated feeling like he was right. He was shamefully attractive and smart and funny and charming and as much as you hated it — he was right. Somewhere between getting your teaching degree and getting offered your job, you’d become incredibly jaded by the people around you, but not without reason. Even now, the only people who went out of their way to make sure you didn’t feel like you were some child were Ryujin and Yeji… and Chris. Doyoung had, too, which was why you had dated briefly, but now he had joined everyone else in babying you like you were bound to fail. That wasn’t even mentioning the board, made up of all men from old money who mostly seemed to hire you for humor and bragging rights. Even still, this wasn’t even mentioning Superintendent Simmons, who talked to you like he was a lion with a mouse in its paws.
So, sure, you had reasons to be aloof around the people surrounding you, but Chris’s nagging was starting to bother you. Yes, you were leagues more organized and fastidious than you had been growing up, and you even took some solace in sprucing up your space, but you also had to recognize you were quick to do that instead of facing problems at times. It was easy to organize the kitchen for the fourth time or clean out your closet, but it wasn’t always easy to deal with adult problems. You took great pride in your appearances, because looking capable helped you feel capable, but did that mean you were? It was difficult to say, almost as difficult as deciphering Yeji’s bemused look on your way into the office on Monday.
A gorgeous bouquet of flowers was sitting on your desk. You curiously walked over, plucking the small envelope from within the buds and gently prying it open.
Hello Stranger,
1. Are these still your favorite color? You mentioned it years ago so I could be wrong.
2. I’m sorry about Friday again. I know I’m a hot-head and what I did was terrible. You’re not stuck-up, and you’re not a tyrant. When I think back to that summer, I thought we were on the same page, and now you make it look so easy while I feel like I’m completely lost and failing the whole time. I appreciate you helping me. Thank you.
A stiff sigh fell from your lips as you looked at the note in your hands, with Chris’ dumb, nice handwriting giving you a feeling you couldn’t quite place. You quickly paged Ryujin and Yeji into your office. Once both girls were sat waiting for you, it was time for the dreaded question.
“What do people think of me?”
Both girls looked like they’d seen their lives flash before their eyes as you sat at your desk and did some quick typing. When you showed them your screen, they both gasped. There was you, all acne and unfortunate appearance choices at your high school graduation. “It’s not a loaded question,” you promised, “think of it more as a confirmation. I think I’m trying too hard to hide this person.” You gave the girl in the photo a sympathetic look. She was bright, funny, and brimming with potential — even you could see that.
Yeji surprisingly sighed out her answer first. “The other office staff were still whispering about you when you hired me. They said you just wanted to hire other young women to look progressive.”
All three of you rolled your eyes at the sentiment before Ryujin piped up. “The board does like you… because they think you’ll do their bidding. They think you’re ruthless. The teachers think you have an iron fist. The Superintendent? Well, you know how he feels.”
A sour grimace pulled at your lips. “Why don’t I like any of that?”
“Is it because it’s not what she would want?” Yeji thoughtfully asked you as she nodded in the direction of the photo on your computer screen. You thought back to what Chris had said, about wanting to be the person he wanted around at that age. It was such a trip, thinking of what that girl would do if she saw you now. She’d give you a belligerent sneer and close herself off from you because you were a cold witch and you knew it. The girls watched as your shoulders softened, sinking into your chair as you pulled out your phone and found Chris’ number that Yeji had fetched for you.
>>Thanks for the flowers. I’ll be by tomorrow so we can try this all again before the board meeting dinner on Wednesday.
There were decidedly less stares as you walked down the halls of the high school again the next day when the lunch period began. You saw Johnny try to catch your attention out of the corner of your eye, but you simply waved as you passed his office. You had a sneaking suspicion it was about your outfit. As opposed to Friday’s jeans, you felt much more comfortable being more comfortable as opposed to someone you thought you should be. The pencil skirt remained, only now in a cozier dark pallet and much comfier material. The biggest changes were pairing the skirt with a soft flannel shirt and a smart pair of suede oxfords. You felt exposed in how dressed down you were again, but Chris’ surprised smile as you stood in the doorway of his classroom reassured you. He looked good, his hair moderately styled back and wearing another smart blazer over another old band tee. You could see he was even wearing chinos today, still managing to coordinate them with some worn boots not unlike the pair you used to own all those years ago. It was a good look, one that made you a bit more bashful than you had been already.
“Hello, stranger,” you cheekily greeted from the doorway.
“Hey,” he smiled back, motioning for you to come in.
“Hungry?” You asked, fishing a bag out of your purse and placing it in his hands. He peered inside as you set your purse on his desk.
“Are these—?”
“I felt so awful this weekend,” you sighed as you leaned against his desk, still unable to keep from straightening stacks of his papers, “and especially after yesterday. I couldn’t think straight so I cleaned my apartment and made you some cookies.”
“You made me cookies?” He asked incredulously before taking a bite. You could’ve sworn his eyes actually sparkled for a moment. “Alright, these are so good there’s no way you still can’t think straight.”
“You’re right,” you nodded. “Just like you were already right, about almost everything. But you left one detail out.”
“What’s that?” Chris grinned around a mouthful of cookie.
“You make it look pretty easy yourself,” you smiled softly. Chris raised an eyebrow.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I know you do,” you laughed, “but it’s true! You’ve already done just fine in an industry of your choosing and impulsively decided to become an educator? And you just happen to be financially smart enough to have a house already? It’s reckless but it’s admirable.”
Chris choked on the last of his cookie, his dark hair falling out of place as he composed himself. “I, er, should be up front about that.”
“About what?”
“About deciding to change directions,” Chris sighed. “I had a giant proposal on my hands. I could have had my own company and my own team, but it was a huge investment entirely depending on me and my success. I froze up. I had enough. It felt way too big. I got rid of my fancy apartment, I got rid of my suits and watches, and I just moved.” A sigh fell from Chris’ lips as he folded his arms. He couldn’t meet your imploring stare. “I wish I could do what you do,” he continued. “I want to march headfirst into every single thing no matter what people think of me.”
A surprised laugh escaped you before you could stop it. You covered your mouth as your face heated up. “I’m terrified,” you explained. “Just like you were scared to take that chance, just like you and most of us are reasonably scared of these kids — I’m terrified. I’ve worn suits to attend sports events and picnics with the staff from how terrified I am of them.”
“Well, you look really good today,” Chris beamed at you, but the distracted nuance of his gaze didn’t let it last long. You playfully sat back on his desk, trying to keep his mood up.
“I feel good today.”
“I lied, by the way,” Chris sheepishly blurted. “I know we kissed that night. I thought about it all the time. I didn’t go out with anyone for almost a whole year, I thought about it so much. If you knew I still remembered, I would be too tempted to get distracted. But I’m getting distracted anyway, so I thought you should know. You look really good today.”
A flattered smile pulled at your lips as you reached for Chris’ hand where it rested on the desk. His hand was warm and gentle in yours and he looked up at you, silently gauging your look to see if it was alright to lean up more into your space… when your phone buzzed with a message. It was Johnny.
>I was trying to get your attention when you came in. Simmons is here TOURING THE MUSIC DEPARTMENT. Get that time bomb out of there NOW.
But it was far too late. Superintendent Simmons could be heard talking to Doyoung in the hallway. Chris watched curiously as you whirled around just in time to catch them appearing in the open doorway.
“Yes, Mr. Kim, I’d love to hear your plans for the year but— ah, hello, dear!”
You winced at the use of the word “dear” but fought it back. “Superintendent,” you nodded cordially, “what’re you doing here?”
“I wanted to take a stroll through the department,” the older man coolly insisted, his hands in the pockets of his suit. “I also thought I could finally meet young Christopher here since I wasn’t sure if he was accompanying you to the meeting tomorrow.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Your question was stated friendly enough, even as you subtly waved a calming hand back to Chris to keep him back.
The Superintendent shrugged. “You know how it is, dear. My son takes his class but I haven’t even met the man before. We’re certainly not exempt from being aware of current goings-on and I wanted to see who all the fuss was about.”
“Do I live up to your expectation?” Chris suddenly asked, unmistakably indignant as he came forward.
“Seeing as my expectations were of a naive, insubordinate, carpe-diem-prescribing kid,” Simmons smirked, “then yes.”
“Excuse me, Superintendent,” you huffed sharply, “but I do not appreciate you speaking to Mr. Bang that way, first as one of my staff members and second as my partner.”
“Oh-ho!” Mr. Simmons threw his head back with a laugh. “Your partner? How unbecoming of you, dear. Now, I would normally do the professional courtesy of discussing this in private, but as you always deem it appropriate to throw a fit, I’ll do it here— you know we need to terminate Mr. Bang. Too much liability.”
A wildfire ignited behind your eyes before you quickly jumped into action. If you had a moment to spare, you would’ve considered the possible consequences. “Mr. Simmons,” you spat, “you know for a fact there are liabilities just as big, if not bigger, right under your nose, just like I know for a fact Mr. Bang is in possession of a confiscated note containing quite the insinuation that your son Christian is having a very close and troubling relationship with one of Mr. Kim’s most promising freshmen.”
You hazarded a look behind you and Chris returned it, petrified. It was a low, risky blow, but an apparently fair one as Mr. Simmons’ eyes grew wide. He stubbornly shook his head. “Christian is a smart boy who is studying hard and has no time—“
“—Christian turned 18 over the summer and wants to have as much fun as he can in high school before he goes to college,” Chris finally spoke up. “He’s said as much in class, and if I recall correctly, that girl is 14. I can show you the letter. He met her at a party that she doesn’t remember but all she knows is she is woefully in love with him. As your son’s teacher I’m a mandated reporter if I think this is an unsafe situation for either of them.”
“You want to play executioner with a man you admitted you just met? Fine,” you warned. “But just like your gossip, you’re not exempt from this, either.”
At that moment, Doyoung sheepishly poked his head into the open doorway, politely coughing to get the attention of Mr. Simmons, who was now sputtering until his face had turned red. “Mr. Superintendent,” Doyoung timidly spoke up, “perhaps you would like to come discuss those plans—“
“Fine time for you to decide to act like a teacher,” Simmons growled towards Chris, before he thrust a fat finger into your chest. “This isn’t done, dear. He’s on thin ice, and now you are, too. Let’s see how long it can hold both of you.” Superintendent Simmons turned on his heel, marching out the door past Doyoung and towards his classroom. Doyoung leaned into the room, giving you both a look that remarkably appeared to be sympathetic support. “Are you alright?” He quietly asked.
You nodded shallowly, still a bit stunned. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Kim.” Chris was seemingly dazed as you turned to face him. “Mr. Bang, can I see you in your office?”
Chris barely nodded himself, having gone pale during your confrontation, and Doyoung silently wished you well before closing the door behind him and trotting down the hall after the older man. You clutched onto Chris’ sleeve and pulled him into his office, guiding him in before you quietly closed the door.
You realized you were breathing heavily, chest rising and falling hard with adrenaline as you looked behind you to check on Chris. He was staring back at you, almost shocked, even as you gently took his hand again to make sure he was alright. His fingers had turned clammy where they squeezed yours, and you shared a brief silence, recovering and staring at each other until he finally spoke up.
“You wanted to see me, ma’am?”
“Yes, Mr. Bang,” you nodded, leaning back against the door and pulling him a little closer. You felt a bit lightheaded. “I wanted you to finish your thought from before we were rudely interrupted.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded dutifully, now cutting right to it as he followed your hand in his to press against you where you leaned against the door. His lips hesitated a mere breath away before he finally kissed you, deep and seemingly driven by every kiss he’d wanted to give you since that night years ago. You could’ve sworn you tasted cotton candy and his lip ring again, maybe even smell evergreen trees if you weren’t mistaken by his cologne. It was electric, re-energizing enough that Chris seemed to finally realize what just happened outside in his classroom.
“Holy shit,” Chris gasped like he just came up for air. “Did I just threaten the—“
Chris’ frantic recollection persisted even as you continued to kiss him. “Did you just warn the superintendent that he is better off tending to matters closer to home in more need of his attention? Yes.”
“Holy shit, I’m going to be fired,” Chris lamented, but even still he let his lips run over your jaw, falling into you and pressing you into the door.
“No, you’re not,” you shook your head as you cupped his face in your hands to make him look at you for a moment. “He would’ve said so. He knows this is bad and it’s going to be a pain to deal with.”
“Wait, you don’t want me to—“
“Report? You just said you should. Honestly, Mr. Kim probably would’ve already if he read the letter more closely in the first place.” You held his gaze as you led his hands around your waist and he quickly got the hint, wrapping around you and diving back into you. “Am I still a ballbuster?” You breathlessly chuckled.
He nodded heartily as he nibbled and kissed your neck. “I love it.” Chris hesitated as he pulled away from your throat, almost asking permission as he kissed you hard against the door, his tongue hot and needy against yours as he almost knocked the breath out of you.
“Mr. Bang—“ you gasped, and you felt him shiver in the cutest way. He seemed emboldened to let his hands get a little braver, following your hint when you led them to the waistband of your skirt, and he fumbled with your shirt as he untucked it and began unbuttoning it. It was a bizarre sensation, feeling so vulnerable to someone you hadn’t known long but had been thinking of for years, and maybe you weren’t the only one. Chris’ breath seemed to catch in his throat as he leaned back enough to see, his hungry eyes falling on you as he pulled open your shirt and became impatient for more. You gasped again as he pushed you back against the door, his strong hands now tenderly roaming down your chest and groping your breasts as he kissed you before he came back to the waist of your skirt again. His confidence seemed to be returning in full now as his hands firmly ran down your thighs to the hem of your skirt, his lips trailing down your chest and nuzzling your cleavage as he gingerly lifted it. Another gasp caught in your lungs as his fingertips wandered up your legs and paused, his trepidation even spreading to the extent that he seemed hesitant to kiss you again. You reached up to gently cup his face, his cheek warm against your palm as you tried to see what could possibly be wrong in this moment. Out there, sure, that was all understandable, but in this tiny office there was no reason for anything to be wrong.
“Mr.—“ you began softly, instantly cutting yourself off as you realized. Oh. “Chris,” you began, more confidently now, “are you alright?”
He sighed out a small laugh before he finally kissed you again. “I am. I just missed you, is all. I’ve been thinking about you. It’s still hard to believe any of this is happening, so Mr. Bang is going to be fine for my students but I’d much prefer it if you and I are more personal than that.”
“I can do that,” you grinned, that stunted gasp from earlier finally coming back and completing as Chris finally let himself caress you under your skirt, getting as personal as you both were yearning for. His fingertips were firm but slow, purposeful as they teased the hem of your panties but continued over them to feel you between your legs, making you so aware of your heat against his hand. He smirked as you shivered at his touch, and you felt your face heat up. “Sorry,” you laughed breathlessly, “it’s been a while.”
“I couldn’t tell,” Chris assured you, finally gasping himself as you regained your mental footing and let your hand drop, trailing down his chest to get an exploratory grip on his growing erection in his pants before you brought him back to kiss you again. His muffled sighs and moans grew feverish as you teased him through his clothes, up to the moment he pressed your hips back against the closed door. You watched curiously as Chris’ lips ghosted down your chest and stomach until he was on his knees for you, dangerously close to nuzzling your damp heat until you let yourself subtly roll your hips towards his mouth. He took the cue to instantly pull the thin fabric aside, just enough that he could dip his tongue into your folds.
Chris couldn’t take his eyes off you as he lapped you up, one hand holding your panties aside and the other clutching onto your bared thigh as you squirmed and mewled for him. Your fingers stroked back through his hair as he held you tight and hungrily licked until he just happened to hit the perfect spot. That, of course, was when he stopped, leaning away and his shiny lips pulled into a mischievous smirk. “I need you so bad,” he drawled, “I’m getting impatient.”
“You?” You giggled sarcastically. “Impatient? Impossible.”
Nevertheless, Chris rocked back onto his feet and pulled you over to his desk before he sat you on top of it, gently pulling your knees apart to step between them. “Are you sure?”
“Definitely,” you nodded. “Do it.”
Chris grinned shyly as he unbuckled his belt and brought his pants down enough to reveal his hard cock, groaning as you brazenly grabbed his length and pumped it a few times in your hand before guiding him into you. You both gasped in tandem now as you were stretched open, and your legs quickly found purchase around his hips as he kissed you again, the faintest taste and scent of your wetness still on his lips. He filled you out unexpectedly, prodding deep into you in this angle and his girth just wide enough at the base to make you whimper each time he bottomed out.
“God, this is so good,” Chris groaned against your lips, “you’re so good. I’ve thought of this so many times.” His groans and whispered curses were hot in your ear as he fucked you on the desk, and you were both lost in this endless moment while you both sounded like you were steadily climbing your respective peaks until you noticed his prolonged smirk.
“What’s so funny?” You jokingly accused.
“Nothing,” Chris shook his head with a breathless smile, “I’m just surprised. I honestly expected you to be a little more in charge.”
“Oh, am I not as dominant as you thought?” You pouted for effect, seeming to only convince him for a second before you kicked him back into his chair anyhow and willingly taking his bait. He watched, his hands clutching the armrests with intrepid excitement as you dropped onto his lap. “Is this more what you had in mind?”
“Actually, yeah,” Chris nodded hungrily as you raised your hips, just enough to pull your panties to the side and grind your soaked pussy against the head of his cock. You both sighed in pleasure at the sensation as you took your sweet time dipping his length into you just the slightest bit, your lips parted to barely kiss him the whole time you teased yourself against him. He actually waited patiently as you barely rolled your hips lower into him, even as he began to get impatient again. “Heh, hey,” Chris laughed under his breath, “aren’t you gonna—“
“Whatever happened to your lip ring?” You asked him, teasingly oblivious to his question.
“My wha— oh, that?” Chris was almost delirious trying to rock his hips up into you. “Don’t laugh, but I didn’t think it looked very professional when I first interviewed. I already wasn’t wearing it out to events and meetings, so not wearing it to school made sense.”
“I’m not going to laugh,” you smirked as you playfully pretended you were about to kiss him over and over, your lips ghosting over his own time and time again as his cock surreptitiously tried to work deeper into you, “but that’s ridiculously funny. You’re literally still wearing your earrings, and don’t try telling me that’s different. Weren’t you waiting for something, by the way?”
“Was I waiting—? Come on, aren’t you going to…?”
“Aren’t I going to what?” You asked innocently. Chris’ head lolled back against the head of his chair in exasperation.
“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” His question was quiet, almost as if he were shy to be saying it out loud, but he asked it nevertheless.
“Sure,” you shrugged casually, “are you going to wear that lip ring for me sometime? I want to see if it has the same effect.”
“Anything, if you’re that easy,” Chris quipped, even as he was unable to hide the excited tremble in his voice.
“I’m easy?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you finally sank deep onto Chris’ erection and kissed him again. His muffled groan was thick, laced with satisfaction as you began to ride him in earnest. The hot moans falling from his lips echoed your own impassioned whimpers, only growing more feverish as you angled your hips down, enabling yourself to grind your clit down against his lap. By now you were so lost in it that were thoroughly soaked through your panties you were still wearing.
“Are you sure you’re not easy?” Chris chuckled exhaustedly, even as he nuzzled against your heaving cleavage and gripped tight onto your hips. It was his turn to whimper as you desperately ran your fingers through his hair to clutch onto him as you felt your peak coming fast. Chris must’ve not been far behind, considering the way he sweetly groaned your name against your skin, as if to personally coax out your orgasm.
The air between you was hot, static, and the way Chris held you was surprisingly affectionate. Despite how much ire and sarcasm had been slung between you previously, now you were both rendered speechless, your staccato breaths falling heavy in the spaces between your sighs and moans. Giving in to Chris didn’t feel like giving up like you had been afraid of for some reason. Reality seemed to be that he may even be quite fond of you, maybe even more than you’d previously imagined, despite how much you did or didn’t change. He obviously wanted to do more than kiss you, and now it seemed he wanted to do more than just fuck you. Chris’ fingertips dug into your hips as he thrust up against you, and you suddenly caught yourself meeting his gaze. The feeling was mutual, apparently, the blown out arousal in his eyes probably echoing your own impending orgasm slowly rising up your spine and making your head spin. He seemed to catch this as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and pressing his lips to your throat as he pistoned his hard length deep inside you, the head dragging along your sensitive walls and daring you to cum.
So you finally did. It hit you hard, giving you barely a moment’s notice for you to grab onto Chris, wrapping your arms around his neck as your core shuddered, radiating out to your quaking thighs and trembling fingers as your heightened moans hit a fever pitch. This, of course, was the final straw for Chris, his orgasm not far behind yours as he tensed up, palms pushing flat against the small of your back as he rutted into you with a broken groan. He uttered a sharp curse under his breath, eyes squeezed shut with the force of his own climax spilling into you as you finished riding out your own on his lap.
It felt like an eternity, wrapped around each other, faces buried in each other’s shoulders as you both fought for breath and you finally realized how cramped it was straddling Chris in his desk chair, the armrests uncomfortably digging into your legs. As if to mitigate this silent complaint you had, Chris gently began to ease you off of him as he simultaneously pulled you to him for a tiredly satisfied kiss. The bright lights in your eyes finally dulled and the imaginary cotton in your ears finally fell out, letting the sound return to normal. You could hear the low drone of the air conditioner, the muted hum of the hard drive in Chris’ laptop, the clatter of the classroom doorknob outside turning open—
Chris heard it, too, with how he bolted upright with you in his lap. You both stared at the door of his office in terror; this was no way for the assistant superintendent to be found, in post-orgasmic bliss with her legs wrapped around a teacher who was still in a heap of trouble, and you had no chance of escape. Footsteps could be heard approaching before Chris quickly pushed at your retreating knees, apparently on the same page as you when he helped you slide off his lap and under his desk. You scrambled forward to grab at his chair and wheel him close as he desperately stuffed himself back in his pants and tried to make himself presentable. A knock came at the door and Chris quickly wiped the accumulated perspiration off his brow.
“Come in—!“ he coughed, trying to sound chipper and casual, and as if he didn’t just orgasm with you barely two minutes prior. He gave you one crazed look to make sure you were alright shoved under the desk before the door to his office gingerly opened.
“Hey—“
Doyoung?
“Mr. Kim!” Chris sat up a little straighter, inadvertently kicking you in your shin in the process and nearly making you curse out loud. You reflexively punched him in the knee, making him jump as he tried to appear natural. “Is everything alright?”
“What, with me? I’m fine. It’s just...” Doyoung sighed, apparently not moving from where he awkwardly stood in the doorway of the tiny office. “Was it true, what you said about the superintendent’s son?”
“It was,” Chris said solemnly. “Would you like to see the letter again?” His question was genuine, any ill feelings towards the other teacher seeming to have dissipated by now. Your ears perked up as Chris leaned forward. You could hear papers shuffled overhead. He still had it? You could hear a piece of paper being handed to Doyoung, whose sigh only multiplied.
“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, “that’s so…”
“I know,” Chris commiserated. “Will Samantha—“
“I’ll talk to Sam,” Doyoung resolved, “but first, about the other day, I’m sorry about—“
“Mr. Kim, you don’t have to apologize,” Chris insisted, “tensions were high, you were upset, and you were protecting your student. If you’d like to help me report this I’d appreciate that. You’re a good teacher.”
“So are you, Mr. Bang,” Doyoung conceded sheepishly. “Maybe you can join me in the teacher’s lounge for lunch tomorrow.”
“I’d like that.”
You could hear the smooth heel of Doyoung’s oxford turn to leave and Chris backed up from the desk. The sigh of relief you both let out revealed that you had apparently been holding your breath. He slumped back in the chair before leaning forward to offer you an assisting hand.
“Oh, one more thing—“
Chris snapped upright in his chair, accidentally kicking you again before his knees knocked into the top of his desk. He grinned through it as he attempted to look nonchalant again. “Yeah?”
“So,” Doyoung began stiffly, “you and her are, like… a thing?”
“Er,” Chris floundered for a second. “Yes. Why?”
“Why? Oh, I mean, it’s nothing,” Doyoung fumbled, “I meant, I guess, is it serious?”
Chris’ Adam’s apple could barely be seen bobbing with his sudden gulp from your vantage point, and you didn’t blame him. Serious? It wasn’t a stretch to imagine his ears turning beet red again. Your thighs were beginning to get sore where you were folded under the desk. “No! I mean, not yet,” Chris said, his stammer matching Doyoung’s now. “I want it to be, though. I really like her. Why?”
Your heart thudded against your ribs. You felt like such a sucker, but why did you also feel so smitten?
“No reason,” Doyoung laughed politely. “I’m happy for you. For both of you. She looks different with you, you know? You look good together. See you later.”
The door finally clicked closed and you both waited for the classroom door to do the same before it was Chris’ turn to let out the breath he’d been holding. He sighed heavily, melting into his chair before sliding back. His gentle hand reached down to help you out from under the desk. You held his hand, his fingers warm in yours as he met your gaze. “Hello, stranger,” he grinned, “did you have fun under the desk?” Chris fussed with your clothes, helping smooth your skirt back out and buttoning your blouse back up before he realized you were staring at him. He suddenly looked concerned, sitting up as he tried to make sense of your expression. “What? Is everything alright?”
“You want this to be serious?”
Chris almost flinched as he defensively tried to figure out your tone. He settled for getting back up from his chair and squaring up against you once again, arms folded matter-of-factly like he anticipated a confrontation. “You know what? I do.”
“This isn’t even real, Chris,” you smirked, flattered by his sincerity. “We don’t even like each other, remember?”
He let out an exasperated laugh. “Holy shit, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Go ahead, then, tell me how we aren’t real.”
“Well,” you smiled, “you haven’t asked me out, for one thing.”
It seemed Chris finally caught up to your game. “Fine,” he sarcastically scoffed. “Would you like to go out with me some time?”
“Sure,” you playfully shrugged with a smile. “How about now? Are you hungry?”
Chris was amused as he pulled you close into his arms. “You know what? I’m actually not.”
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Declawing the Cat - Chapter 3
(Sorry it took so long guys, between testing and homework and executive functioning, I could NOT get this done. Anyways,
“Father, do I have to go?” Adrien asked for the hundredth time.
“Of course Adrien. I refuse to go on a business trip as important as this one without you. You’re my son.”
Felix rolled his eyes. He and his mother were visiting the two bachelors (against his actual will, obviously). Everyone in the room knew the real reason why Adrien had to go; he was the face of the brand, and it was common fashion knowledge that to go to such a high-ranking event without your leading model would get you shunned and cancelled. ‘You’re my son’ EVERYONE’S arse.
It was obvious that Adrien was all too aware of this fact, because he couldn’t seem to run out of excuses for why he couldn’t go.
Well, he could also not wish to go because of how brain-numbingly boring the whole affair is, and honestly, who could blame him? This year’s Annual Pre-Junior’s Fashion Competition Assembly was being held in Sydney, and all of the biggest names in the industry were going to attend. The assembly takes place over the course of two. Entire. Months. For what, not even the attendees know. Felix swears, these designers were as mad as a bag of ferrets.
I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing, like Miss I’m-all-that Ginger Breadhouse, you’d probably be in Seventh Heaven there, but if you were, how do you say, normal, you’d sell your soul to be another else. In fact, Felix could almost bet Chat Noir’s Miraculous that Adrien would sign that demonic contract in a heartbeat if that were an option.
“But Father, what about school? I’ll miss so much instruction-”
“Natalie will tutor you, just like she did before you attended that … institution.”
“And my fencing practice? Surely, you wouldn’t want me to miss out on those.”
“Adrien, are you suggesting that they don’t have fencing areas in Sydney?”
“No, I’m just saying that fencing without Kagami wouldn’t be the same…”
“Well, you aren’t going to be fencing with her forever, so think of this as a sample for the future. Now, no more of this arguing, Adrien. You are going to the Assembly and that’s final. Have I made myself clear?”
Adrien’s shoulders slumped in defeat and for a heartbeat, Felix felt sympathetic. “Yes, Father.”
“Good, now go pack some clothes you will need for the weeks. We won’t be at the events the entire time, so I will permit you to bring some of your own wardrobe. Please remember we will be there for a long time, so pack accordingly.”
And with that, they were all dismissed. Adrien trugged upstairs looking particularly peeved. He invited Felix to come with him, and Felix agreed, but only to keep up appearances. If he knew any better, Felix would have sworn that he heard him talking to someone on the way up, but he decided to ignore it; he couldn’t be bothered to guess what weird habits his wanker of a cousin had.
Once they got to Adrien’s room, Felix sat himself down at the piano while Adrien took out a suitcase from his closet and started choosing some informal clothing for when they were just doing day-to-day activities.
“Can you believe that he’s making me go, Felix?”
“Yes, I can believe it.”
“AND we have to leave tomorrow! I won’t even get the chance to say goodbye to our friends.
“Not to worry, cousin dearest. I’ll tell them for you. Anyways, don’t look at this trip as a burden, look at it as a new opportunity. You can gather information and resources for your friend Marinette.”
Adrien’s face brightened at the mention of his friend and Felix rolled his eyes when his back was turned. He swears, all it takes to cheer him up was to be reminded that Pigtails was alive and well somewhere on the planet.
“You’re right, Felix! This way I can help her pursue her dreams! I can’t wait until we get back to tell her everything I’ve learned about the industry.”
“...Can’t you just text or call her?”
“You mean with my phone?”
“No Adrien, I mean with a plastic banana you can buy at the baby store. Yes I mean your phone!”
Adrien paused in the middle of folding a t-shirt and packing it into a suitcase. “I didn’t tell you? Father confiscated it for ‘my own good’. He thinks I spend too much time around my friends and not enough time focusing on my studies, so it’s with him for the time being.”
Well, there goes Felix’s plan to pull a quick cell prank before Adrien leaves. “Adrien Bartholomew Agreste, is that resent I hear in your voice?”
“Yes, it is. I’m tired of responsibilities and having people depend on me every second that I breathe. That’s why I wanted to go to school in the first place; it gives me eight hours of non-Agreste related freedom.”
Felix narrowed his eyes. What did this boy know about responsibilities? All he had to do was play a keyboard, wave a stick around, and look pretty for pictures. Felix couldn’t understand how a job like that could burden someone so badly.
“Goodness, Adrien. You make it sound as though Uncle asks you to carry the weight of the entire ever-loving world on your shoulders.”
Adrien sighed. “That’s just how I feel, sometimes. Anyways, I think these are all of the casual clothing Father will let me take with me. Maybe if I’m lucky, he might not see the video game I hid under them all.”
The next day was a Saturday, so Felix the delivery boy was going to have to give the mega-twits the message at a later time. Today, it was all about acting as emotional as he could for the departure of his Cousin & Co. gabriel thought it would be a good idea for Felix and his mother to stop by the mansion every once in a while to make sure everything was all right, accounted for, and in the case of the house plants, watered. This was news to Felix. He doubted his uncle was even a living being, let alone the type of person to have plants in his home. Right now, they were standing next to the family limo. Natalie and gabriel were talking to Ape Man about transportation in Australia.
“Oh, darling Adrien, I’m so sad to see you go. We only just now got here, and you’re leaving. Why must the fates keep up apart?”
“It’s alright, Aunt Amilie. We’ll be back before you even realize we’re gone.”
“We? Oh, I wasn’t talking about your father, dear. I wouldn’t mind some time away from him. Anyways, I hope you have the best time in Australia. Bring something back for me, will you? I’ve always wanted to get a real boomerang, ever since I was a young girl.”
“I’ll be sure to get you the best boomerang in the country, Aunt A. What about you Felix? Do you want me to get you anything?”
Felix, who was standing some ways behind the others, pretended to ponder it over. “Bring me a friendship bracelet.”
“...A friendship bracelet?”
“If you can’t find one it’s okay I really don’t mind-”
“No, I’ll get you a bracelet. I was only surprised because you aren’t really the type to want one.”
He’s right- there was no way on Good Green Earth would he want some dingly little arts and crafts project. There also wasn’t any way that maybe he wanted his cousin thinking about him during his trip, that he wanted to envision Adrien getting something for him. Don’t even think about considering that Felix felt bad for him, dealing with the devil himself in a new place and wanting to give him something to do. Nope. Not a chance. Felix simply thought that Adrien would look hilarious running around Australia looking for beads and twine.
“...Just make sure you make me a good one, alright?”
Adrien smiled as though he could read right into Felix’s mind, and of course he had to look completely handsome in doing so. Stupid model. They practically had the same face and somehow Felix ended up looking like the off-brand knockoff.
“Adrien, we have to go now. The plane leaves in five hours,” gabriel said, entering the car.
“Why do we need to leave so soon?”
“So that I can buy fabrics with threads, gather all of my designs, double check with Natalie that the suite is still booked for us-”
“Alright, Father. I understand. Well, bye Felix. I’ll miss you.”
With that, he entered the limousine and the four of them drove away.
“Come Felix. Let’s go check the house for anything they might have accidentally left behind. We wouldn’t want them to leave something important,” said Amilie, still a little teary-eyed over the loss of her precious little baby nephew. She couldn’t stand the idea of being away from him for so long, even though his look-alike (her own bloody son) was right in front of her. Of course, Felix wasn’t bitter! Why wouldn’t ever say such a thing?
“Yes, Mother. Would you like me to check Adrien’s room?”
“Please, dear. Oh, look at you, watching over your cousin! And to think you said you wouldn’t like him!”
It was as though his mother never met him. Couldn’t she see that he was just trying to gain some sort of upper hand against Mr. Perfect or to uncover a secret of his? On the sunny side, at least he knows his facade is effective. He was beginning to worry that someone other than Blue-Eyed Phoenix Wright would figure him out.
Felix pushed open the door of Adrien’s room and immediately began to look around and turn things over. He was being extremely careful to make sure that everything he touched was put back in the place he got it from. After looking through his closet and library, however, he was disappointed to find that Adrien was actually as innocent as he seemed (and acted). In fact, the worst thing he could find was a disturbing amount of Ladybug memoria. It was a pity, really. Felix hadn’t blackmailed anyone in a long time, and he was beginning to get antsy. He turned around and headed out.
“Adrien, is that you? I thought you said you weren’t going to come back for another two months.”
Felix did a complete 180 and faced the source of the voice, which seemed to be some sort of floating cat-thing. It looked like a deer in headlights.
“You aren’t Adrien. Wait, are you okay, you seem to be swaying-?”
The thing was right; he was feeling woozy, and it didn’t take him that long to hit the floor, having fainted. The last thing he heard was the talking cat muttering,
“Shit.”
@myazael @2confused-2doanything @thecaptainthunder @thatonecroc @symwinter @mermaidreject @pink-and-bunny @kyrakitesong @your-number-one-second-choice @kayla0binow @hansa-12 @fc-studios @nom-the-king @thetrashypanda423 @chez-pezeater @supertomboyprincess @alyceeve @ceres-zephyr @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @marinettepotterandplagg @starlightshield @sandraf0612
#declawing the cat#chapter 3#felix graham de vanily#felix x marinette#marinette x felix#marinette dupain cheng#marinette#fanfiction by me#fanfiction#felix#enemies to lovers
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Oh man, really appreciating the extra French cultural insight on ML, so thank you for all of your elucidating! Have you made any posts covering common school events/milestones, and/or how teens tend to celebrate holidays in Paris? I know exams are different and that proms aren't really a thing, and the show has given us some insight into field trips (not too different), but do you know of anything else fandom tends to miss?
Heya!! :D
Thanks for your feedback & you’re very welcome!!
I haven’t done any post regarding school events or holidays yet, so let’s do that now!
School events/milestones:
First just a quick explanation of the French scholar system:
Maternelle (= Kindergarten): 3 years, from 3-4yo to 5-6yo – Petite section · Moyenne section · Grande section
Primaire (= Primary school): 5 years, from 6-7yo to 10-11yo – CP · CE1 · CE2 · CM1 · CM2
Collège (= Secondary school | Junior high school): 4 years, from 11-12yo to 14-15yo – 6ème (said sixième) · 5ème (cinquième) · 4ème (quatrième) · 3ème (troisième) – school start around 8:30am and ends around 4:30pm, with 1h lunch-break and 15min break in the morning & afternoon. – except on Wednesday ends around 11:30 or 12:30.
Lycée (= High school): 3 years, from 15-16yo to 17-18yo – 2nd (said seconde) · 1ère (première) · Tale (terminale) – Same about breaks & lunch breaks & start of school, but usually ends around 5:30pm. – except on Wednesday ends around 11:30 or 12:30 (or if you’re unlucky like I was the school organises exams on Wednesday afternoon from 2 to 4h straight but most schools have free Wednesdays afternoon)
Currently, Marinette & Adrien are in their finale year of ‘collège’ so in ‘3ème’ (called ‘troisème’).
So about major end-of the year exams:
End of 3ème (around the end of June usually): ‘Brevet’ – it’s a national exam and every student in the whole France have the same examination questions. They have to revise courses they had during the whole year and can be pretty much interrogated on anything they’ve learned. One exam per subject. Writing exam subjects are: French, Mathematics (main ones), History/Geography, Sciences (with Physics/Chemistry and/or Earth&Life Sciences and/or Technology). Added to that, they have an oral exam. It’s about Art History or a project they’ve conducted throughout the year (alone or in groups, however they get an individual score) Side note: this one is pretty ‘easy’ to have and you really need to want to fail to actually fail. It also takes into account the general score you have during the year and allows you to have a few points in advance. For instance, I was a good student and my general score was high enough for me to have enough points to already have the ‘brevet’ before even taking up the exam. It’s usually the case if your general score is equal or above 16/20 I think)
End of Terminale (around mid-June): ‘Baccalauréat’ – it’s again a national exam but much more important. You can’t pursue your studies if you haven’t passed it and will need to repeat the Terminale year. Subjects vary depending the course students chose when they entered their “1ère” year (it’s kind of a lot to explain everything there especially because the system have completely changed this year and teachers & parents are complaining about it, so I’m going to quickly talk about the ‘old’ system where basically you chose between scientific course, economic & social course or arts course; there’s others but those were the main ones). Again, you need to revise everything you’ve learned throughout the year and can be interrogated on anything. There’s writing exams as well as oral exams and practical exams (for sciences).Side note: Contrary to the ‘brevet’ this one is harder to get. I’m not saying it’s super hard, but students with school difficulties can fail even if they worked for it. Only the score you get at this exam is taken into account, not the general score you got during the year so you can’t “have” your Baccalauréat before taking up the exam.
End of 1ère: some exams of the “Baccalauréat” occur in the 1ère year but not a lot as well as a group project.
Proms, holidays & others undercut to avoid long post:
Regarding school proms, we indeed don’t have them as much as people in Canada or the US. It mostly depends of your school: some will organise them at the end of 3ème or Terminale because it’s the end of a ‘cycle’ sort of, but they’re mostly just events with food brought by everyone and music. You rarely have to find a partner to go to a prom with you, except maybe if the school you’re in has decided on that. Some schools don’t organise any.
Other special event that can be organised in your school (and again it depends how strict the director is and all) is carnival. We all come with disguises for the day. My ‘lycée’ was pretty strict about it but we managed to allow it during my finale year and organise a concert during lunch-time. We had to be recognisable though so no full-mask or full-makeup. But the previous years it was forbidden. We didn’t have any carnivals during collège. It again also depends on your school’s policy.
________________
Holidays
We have 4 in-between holidays and one summer holidays:
“Vacances de la Toussaint” (vacances meaning holidays): 2 weeks around end of October & Beginning of November, including the 1st of November. Usually, people tend to stay at home or visit family members that are living far from their home. Some might travel a bit as well but it’s not often. So some teens will visit their friend, maybe celebrate Halloween but Halloween isn’t that big of a thing here and it’s disappearing more and more.
“Vacances de Noël” (= Christmas holidays): 2 weeks including Christmas day and New Year. Mostly spent in family, some might go skiing but it’s rare and there’s less chance to have enough snow for that in the mountains.
“Vacances de Février” (February holidays): 2 weeks in February, sometimes a bit in March; dates change every year because all of the French regions don’t have the same dates for these holidays so teenagers will be in holidays 1st, 2nd or 3rd depending the year & region. Lots of people who can afford it will go skiing in the mountains one week; it’s pretty expensive so not everyone do that but still a lot.
“Vacances de Pâques / vacances de printemps” (Easter holidays / Spring holidays): Again 2 weeks, with dates changing like in February. Mostly around April, sometimes end of March. People tend to stay home or go a bit in the South of France if they can afford it or have enough time where the weather is warmer, some will visit family members, etc.
“Grandes vacances” (= big holidays or as you would say, Summer holidays): Lasts 2 months in July & August. School ends either end of June or beginning of July depending the grade you’re in and the end of the year exams you have, and will start again at the beginning of September. Some teens would go on family holidays somewhere (mostly to the sea or the mountains or abroad), some in summer camps, some would stay at home, some all of those.
Anyway, in all those holidays teens can meet-up and hang-out with their friends, do sleepovers, etc.
________________
School trips
School trips always have a cultural & educational purpose and will depend on the subject they’re being made for. You can visit museums, special cultural or historical places, etc. Most of the time you leave for the day by bus.
In some cases you can do a 3 to 5 days (or more depending your school) trip to another European country like England or Spain or Germany, maybe Italy. Those are opportunities to learn more about the other country’s culture (I know that when we did those trips we stayed in hosting families) learn and speak a bit the language, and learn history of the country depending on the outings of the day.
________________
Anything else fandom tends to miss?
Ok so it could take a lot of time and everything isn’t coming to my mind but one of the main thing I tend to see in fics is “Americanisation” of the French school system if that makes sense. Which is logical because it’s kind of hard to understand how everything works in another country without living in it.
For instance lots of people in fics write things like “they share maths classes together but not French, so Adrien takes Marinette to her class before going to his” and not really: you stay the whole year with the same classmates and share all your courses with them. Only exceptions are if you took some particular options (like someone took Latin and the other took ancient Greek or nothing), or depending the 2nd language you chose to learn (German or Spanish usually but some schools offer more choices). Or if you’re in a practical course, then you class might be split in half but with Marinette & Adrien’s class, they’re already not numerous so I’d say the whole class would share them together.
There’s a lot of other things but they’re not coming to my mind right now or are too long to detail there (for instance what I said above about scientific/economic&social/arts courses), but I’ll make sure to share them if I think about it :)
Thanks for the ask, I hope I answered what you were looking for!! ♥
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It may be February but... why not haha.
Below the cut, organized in chronological order, are the fics I wrote in 2020! All put into one place :D. Thank you to everyone who read, kudos’d, commented, beta’d, and supported my writing. It was my first ever year writing fanfiction, and I am so thankful for all the friends I’ve made because of it.
<3 <3
If Not For You
Word count: 92,461
Chapters: 36
Rating: M
Summary:
Simon was born and raised in the midwest, and he thinks he has his life figured out. He has a girlfriend that he feels happy with, is excited to drive for his junior year, and can't wait to get away from his father when he goes away for school.
However, this all changes when his mom dies and he is carted to the east coast to start at a boarding school. Simon then has to deal with having a roommate (who hates him), living with his mother's death, and wanting to be anywhere but where he is.
To add to it all, one day he gets a strange phone call, and he wonders if his mother's death was really an accident at all.
author’s note:
This was my first like actual fic. And my first try at writing something. This fic will always have a special place in my heart because it helped lead me to all the amazing people I now call friends <3
Not only that but it was a bit of therapy for me. (Self insert? In MY fanfiction? More likely than you’d think!)
Anyway, whenever someone comments, leaves kudos, or otherwise acknowledge that the fic exists I get emotional haha. I also have like three playlists for it too haha.
The Heist
Word Count:7456
Rating:T
Summary:
It's the fourth year of the Halloween heist, and Baz is determined to win.
He thinks he has it all planned, that he knows Simon Snow through and through.
Despite this, somehow Simon still manages to surprise him.
author’s note:
b99 AU bahaha. Need I say more??
Pay Your Fines, Snow
Word Count: 1524
Rating: T
Summary:
Baz Pitch works at the local library every summer. He's annoyed at kids who run around, people who don't follow directions, and Simon Snow- who can't pay a fine on time.
author’s note
This fic was the first of the fics that sparked all my crazy prompts haha. It was so much fun to do!
There is a wonderful podfic of this made by the amazing and beautiful @xivz, and it also has art now by @peachpit-gabe!! Go check it out here.
A Rebirth
Word Count: 3374
Rating: T
Summary:
Simon and Baz need to finish their presentation for their Art History class. However, Baz also got pulled into watching his younger siblings for the weekend.
Frozen 2, chicken nuggets, sword fights, and themes of Renaissance.
author’s note
I wrote this for the amazing @krisrix as a prompt! It was so much fun to do and I legit wrote the whole thing in like one afternoon and had it looked over and posted it haha. I still feel bad because Kris legit asked for babies and I kicked the babies out at the beginning of the fic LOL.
Coming Together in Three Parts
Word Count: 4639
Rating: M
Chapters: 3
Summary:
Three snippets of their lives after Wayward Son.
author’s note:
The summary definitely leaves a lot to be imagined haha. But I decided to pull a @ninemagicks and give a metaphor of threes and I love yous. So it’s three lovely stages after Wayward Son. There’s the I Love You, the moving in, and then a marriage proposal. I was fairly proud of this! And I did this as an exchange fic as well.
The Three Acts of a Wizard
Word Count: 6439
Rating: T
Summary:
Today, Baz is giving Simon a reprieve (or, that's what he is telling Simon.)
Cue a removal of cursed body parts, a grumpy fireplace who *knows* what is happening, and a shrill frizzy-haired friend threatening to poison some scones.
(this is a remix fic for @ninemagicks HMC AU YWSAFS
author’s note:
I wrote this for Nena’s birthday in the summer! Their friendship has meant the world to me, and this story is what I think gave me the gall courage to message them and harass them with 2k word comments/metas haha. If you’ve not read their fic, make sure to do so!
Heaven is a Place on Earth
Word Count: 12,711
Rating: M
Chapters: 5
Summary:
Five hours each week. That's all Simon and Baz get.
But we know that's all they need to fall in love...
~~
A San Junipero AU
author’s note:
This fic idea came to me randomly and I literally wrote it in a week. I love it so much, and despite being MCD I think it’s still generally happy (I mean.. they do end up together??) Idk, it has a special place in my heart. And I made @krisrix read Baz with an american accent so... win win haha.
(Un)Sexy Saturday
Word Count: 6157
Rating: M/E
Chapters: 9 (they’re different stories each chapter.)
Summary:
Summaries vary by chapter. Overall it’s just a collection of silly stories where sex gets interrupted.
author’s note:
Honestly this series was so fun to do. I need to continue it sometime! From beauty blender butt plugs, to swingers, to garlic allergies... it just makes me laugh haha.
5 Times Simon Wanted a Fistbump, and the 1 Time He Finally Got It
Word Count: 5489
Rating: T
Chapters: 6
Summary:
Simon Snow hasn't had a lot of friends in his life. He has Penny, who is great, of course. He has Baz (but does he count as a friend?)
So now, seeing Shepard, he's got a chance at a friend. A bro of sorts.
Simon sees the final hurdle in their friendship to be a fist bump. A simple signal of their friendship.
But how long is it going to take to get it??
~~
5 + 1 Yearning for a Fist Bump.
author’s note:
Simpard. Friendship. And art by @nick-eyre?? Perfection.
A Goblin’s Skull, Maccies, and a Door Handle
Word Count: 2017
Rating: T
Summary:
Simon Snow wakes up in a building he doesn't know, tied up and blindfolded.
Luckily his best bro Shepard is there too.
author’s note:
Wrote this as a little bday treat for @nick-eyre :D. Decided to give Simon a friend who would also lust after goblins with him haha.
One Word, Four Letters, A Lifetime's Worth of Pain: IKEA
Word Count: 2428
Rating: T
Summary:
Baz comes home and notices the house is suspiciously quiet.
When he finds Simon, surrounded by unfinished pieces of furniture, he can't help but ask... why?
Author’s note:
This was written as a birthday gift for @foolofabookwyrm! She is an absolute gem and has never been to IKEA, but now I hope she understands the struggle of building IKEA furniture haha.
The Beat of My Heart
Word Count: 2230
Rating: T
Summary:
Simon is kneeling on the ground, waiting for Baz to come home.
He has a question. One he's wanted to ask for a while.
author’s note:
This was written as a birthday gift for @krisrix! A little proposal fic for the rat king <3 <3
Out of My Mind
Word Count: 10876
Rating: M
Chapters: 3
Summary:
Baz and Simon are living their lives, domestic and content. They have a nine-year-old daughter, a Sunday morning routine, and plans to be alone for the first time for a while.
But when a girl who is growing into her powers reads something she shouldn't, they get into a predicament they don't expect.
author’s note:
This was a COE gift for @krisrix! Body Swap! Parents! Married! I tried to do it all for him haha. 2020 was really the year where I was like yeah, let’s write Kris a million fics. And honestly—wouldn’t have it any other way.
Imposter vs Crewmates
Word Count: 754
Rating: T
Summary:
Everyone has their quarantine coping strategies.
Simon tried to bake bread.
Baz watched Twilight.
But Penelope...
She introduced the gang to Among Us.
author’s note:
Look. I’ve no excuses for this lolol. Just thought it’d be silly :D.
The Ethics of Wanting You
Word Count: 1417
Rating: T
Summary:
Simon Snow realized recently that he has a crush on Baz.
Penny suggested he find reasons to spend more time with him, so he suggests a study session for their ethics exam the following day.
(It doesn't go as planned, but the result is very much worth it.)
author’s note:
Birthday gift for @peachpit-gabe <3 <3. Just a cute one shot with snowbaz.
Pumpkin, Let’s Make a Patch
Word Count: 2516
Rating: T
Summary:
Simon Snow is trying to create a neighborhood pumpkin patch.
Baz, unknowingly, rips the pumpkins out of his front lawn.
(How will he make it up to him?)
author’s note:
This was done for the COC. I based it off this cute tiktok series with this kid who rode around on his skateboard and plants pumpkins around his neighborhood.
Weathering the Storm
Word Count: 2248
Rating: T
Summary:
Shepard was nine when he first met a boy he'd learn was Simon Snow.
He was in a ditch crying, and Shepard wasn't sure what to make of him.
This boy lived in his mind until he saw him again years later.
And today, when there's a storm unlike any other in London, he knows who must be at the center of it.
author’s note:
Honestly. This is probably one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. IDK. It’s so short but... I love it. And if you like to listen to fics— @bloodiedpixie did a phenomenal podfic of it! And @nick-eyre did AMAZING art for it too <3.
New Beginnings
Word Count: 2090
Rating: T
Summary:
It's the first New Years Eve after the Christmas that changed everything.
After Simon Snow and Baz kissed.
After they defeated the humdrum.
After the Mage's death.
But, as many of us do, it's time to take the New Year as an opportunity to begin anew.
author’s note:
Part of a server exchange I did for @knitbelove :D.
And, all of the prompts I’ve yet to put on ao3... lolol
#2020 masterpost#Caity did fanfiction#Caity does fanfiction#still#but wow I really DID that y'all#i wrote over 250k last year#YIKES#damn#anyway#this has been great#love you all
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