#tutoring

[jaeyunluvbot]

classmates to lovers with heeseung

۫ ꣑ৎ lee heeseung x fem!reader

masterlist

[sonrium]

Wait! This isn't my House DP x DC

In which Danny's habit of fiddling with all the guns and weapons left in every conceivable nook and cranny of the Fenton household lead to a very awkward moment during his first tutoring session. Meanwhile, Jason is trying not to shit bricks.

"But it's IMPOSSIBLE to know what the author was TRYING to say!!!"

Jason watched the kid sitting across from him threw up his hands in frustration and start pacing the length of his apartment. This was the first time the skittish kid had taken Jason up on his offer to tutor English. Jason just rolled his eyes when he found out Danny's essay was due tomorrow and let him in.

Jason owned all the rooms adjacent to his main safe house, so he was surprised to spot the kid stepping out of the apartment below his a few weeks ago. No matter what Jason tried, Danny Nightingale was a big mystery, but he was definitely running from something.

"The whole point of the essay isn't to figure that out."

"That's literally the assignment!!! Word for word!" Danny huffed then flopped onto the worn couch with his arms crossed.

Jason got up from the stool at the kitchen counter and joined Danny in the armchair by the coffee table. "The point of the essay isn't to figure that out. It's to show that you know how to make a claim and support it. That's it. Most teachers don't care what you argue, so long as you show that it is a possible interpretation."

"Then why didn't anybody ever just say that?!" Danny seemed to be having an epiphany while constipated. "I've been pulling my hair out because I actually read the book and wanted to do it right this time! And you're saying I could have just said 'green symbolizes golf or unicorns or something' and called it a day?"

Jason laughed. "In a way, yeah. It's an unobtainable dream so Gatsby is basically chasing something that doesn't exist. A metaphorical unicorn hunt."

"I hate everything."

Jason tried not to laugh.

"I don't care. I'm not going to write about that stupid green light. Not after all that."

"Okay. Then let's look at something else." Jason decided to just start talking about different aspects of the book. It wasn't often he actually got to talk to anybody about literature and he could see a spark of interest and consideration taking root in the boy's eyes.

"The Great Gatsby is also a rare example where the main character isn't the protagonist of the story."

Danny fidgeted in place, having trouble sitting still despite paying attention. His hands wandered over the couch cushions, playing with seams and picking at one of the older stains. Jason hadn't had the chance to clean up properly, and the kid was getting uncomfortably close to-

Jason watched in horror as the kid's hand reached between the cushions and pulled out a full magazine. Jason froze, waiting for the inevitable freak out, running through the possible excuses.

Instead, Danny checked how full it was and tapped absently at one of the rubber bullets, his brow furrowed in thought. "How can the main character not be the protagonist? Don't they mean the same thing?"

Sweat pricked on back. Had someone found out his identity? Red Hood's weakness for kids had eventually leaked. Was this a trap? A threat? Was the kid sent by someone? Jason forced his hand not to reach for the gun tucked in the hidden pocket on the side of the armchair.

"He's actually mostly a spectator or a lens through which we see the story play out."

It was Crime Alley. Someone owning a gun wasn't that crazy. As long as he didn't find any of the hidden pockets that he kept the weapons in, he could play it off.

"But wait... doesn't he actively hide Daisy and Gatsby's relationship from the husband guy? And he does other stuff."

They continue to talk and Danny's wandering hands pull out every weapon he had stashed in the couch without reacting to any of it. Various knives and magazines that were clearly for almost a dozen different types of gun were all looked over for a few moments, then placed back or set out on the coffee table in a line.

Jason cleared his throat and continued the conversation barely aware of what he was saying by the time the kid withdrew one of his spare pistols from the hidden pocket on the underside of the couch.

Danny's hands ran over the surfaces, flicking the safety and pulling out the magazine, checking the chamber while he asked another question.

The next thing Jason knew, the gun was completely disassembled. Every piece scattered across the table

Danny stareed at the ceiling in concentration while his hands are moving and dismantling the gun. Within seconds, it's completely disassembled across the coffee table.

Jason was in awe. He did that faster anyone he'd ever scene except himself and a few other gun specialists, and he did it without even looking. What life was this kid running away from to have enough skill that it looked like a goddamned fidget toy instead of a weapon.

"No. In the context of the Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald isn't the author. Nick Carraway is. Sort of like how the Lord of the Rings is an Autobiography by Frodo."

"Sorry to interrupt, but you have to tell me what oil you use. This thing is smooth as butter. Though you might have to double check your sight alignment on this one. I think it's a bit off."

Jason stared.

Danny looked at him expectantly. Then his eyes followed Jason's stare.

"Oh shit!" Danny's eyes widen in horror and exactly what was in his hand. "I'm so sorry! Habit just kind of took over. I shouldn't have messed with your gun without asking."

That was not the problem here!

The kid reassembled the gun in a blur, tucking it securely back in it's hidden alcove along with everything else he'd left out on the table.

Face tinged red, he turned back to Jason. "So Nick is the author, so he's also an 'unreliable narrator.'"

Jason doesn't know how he got through the rest of the discussion, but by the end of it, they threw together a solid outline and gathered several quotes that would work.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Jason. I couldn't have done this without you." The kid was positively glowing with pride over Jason helping him make a couple notes. "Would... would it be okay if I came back if I have trouble again?"

"Sure kid. This was actually a lot of fun. I got to relax. Nobody wants to talk to me about books anymore." And surprisingly, it really was true. He couldn't remember he'd been this calm or the pit waters had been this quiet. Maybe there was something to that 'art is therapy' junk after all.

"I can see that when you look like fridge and smell like a sewer." The kid dashed off before Jason could ruffle his hair or

"Hey-!" Jason shouted but he was already gone.

Jason pulled out the gun the kid had messed with. It was perfectly assembled and just as he said, the sights were indeed slightly off. Looks like Jason would have to call in the big guns.

Pulling out his phone, he grudgingly dialed the number. This was going to cost him. "Yo Timberly, I need your help and you can't tell Bruce."

Danny bounced down the sidewalk on his way to the library to type up his paper. Who knew having somebody actually explain things

Danny's face heated at how inconsiderate he'd been. He was amazed Mr. Jason was okay with him coming back after he'd made such a fool of himself. He'd never done anything like that before. Sam and Tuck hadn't cared if he stripped down the Fenton Bazooka while talking.

His mo- Maddie could get really possessive when he'd accidently mess with her guns. Of course he should have asked first. Wait, he was missing something.

Danny foot caught his ankle when something obvious clicked into place and almost face planted. He grabbed his hair in both his hands. "Ancients! That's not my house!"

I wrote this as a reblog for someone's concept, and Tumblr ATE IT!!! Then I absolutely could not find the original post. It's been a few weeks, and I did the best to recreate some of it, but I'm getting frustrated. This is what you get. Take it or leave it.

Found it! Inspired by this post: here!

[dianedelrey]

—————————————————————————

TUTORING TOBIO KAGEYAMA

—————————————————————————

PAIRING :: Kageyama x gf! tutor! reader

CONTENT :: Kageyama sucks when it comes to his school work. That’s where his super sweet and smart girlfriend comes in the game as she has some special ways of teaching.

CONTENT WARNING :: fluff, js kissing and affection, idk

Another drabble

—————————————————————————

“So, Tobio, what do you not understand?” You asked him.

“Everything.” He frowned

“That’s okay. We’ll make it work.” You replied pulling out a box of his favourite sweets.

You and Kageyama had been dating for a while now and now was your time to shine to help him. Sure he had been a bit awkward throughout your relationship, but that never bothered you at all. The both of you understood each other pretty easily.

He had a hard time saying words. You had enough patience for him to understand,

“For every answer you get right, you get a special treat!” You said smiling.

“what, like im a 6 year old?” He deadpanned.

“You’ll see” you grinned.

“Let’s start off with chemical reactions, what is a chemical reaction?”

“Uhm.. it depends.. on one hand it can explode if done wrongly and on the other hand it could form reactions like, i dont know, colour changing or the shape changing..” he said.

“Hm, let’s slightly simplify that, a chemical reaction is when particles collide with enough energy and the right orientation to break old ones.”

“Doesn’t my wording work too?”

“Well yeah, but teachers care more on if it’s said in a fancy way”

“True..”

“That’s okay, let’s move on to the next one. How do chemical explosions form?”

“Well… first it needs fuel and its own oxygen, then uhm.. the solid turns into gas and the explosion happens..”

“Yep! Correct” you said popping a candy in your mouth before kissing him and passing the candy on, catching him by surprise.

After you pulled away and he swallowed tha candy he said clearly flushed “so thats what you meant by surprise..”

“Mhm! Do you like it?”

He nodded, still pretty red in the face.

From that kiss on, he was actually really determined to get everything correct, even tried to put random fancy wordings together, in hopes of him being right.

It was a funny sight honestly.

The more kisses he got, the more determined he was to get everything right. But hey, atleast now you know he’ll pass.

—————————————————————————

The day after the exam

As everyone went to check their score, they saw Kageyama with a wopping 90% on his sheet of paper.

“WHAT?? How’d you do that! Did you cheat?? Stinky-yama you cheat!” Hinata said surprised as he had only gotten a 49%.

“No, i just studied really hard.” He replied with a teasing grin on his face.

“Wow, who’s your tutor, Hinata might need to get on your grind” tsukishima teased Hinata, causing the orange-head to get aggravated.

“Oh, just Y/n”

“okay yeah no wonder he got such a high score then, you simp” Tsukishima said.

“Atleast he has someone who loves him” Hinata defended.

“You’re literally single yourself” Yamaguchi replied.

“Oh, right” the shorter guy deadpanned.

Kageyama just grinned at his paper wondering if you had more surprises for him, knowing you passed.

“Look at him grinning, he’s so whipped!” The blonde-head murmured.

“Yeah, he really is..” the two by his side agreed

—————————————————————————

A/N :: another fanfic that i pulled out of my ass, i find it easier to write shorter stories, than longer ones. 🫩 okay anyway hope you liked reading

[vera-deville]

Once Upon a Study Session - Riddle Rosehearts

Ch. 4 - It's Getting So Much Clearer

05/14/2026 - 05/15/2026

Synopsis: Struggling to keep up with your classes, you are assigned a tutor by Professor Crewel: Riddle Rosehearts, the strict and notoriously intimidating Housewarden of Heartslabyul. What begins as an awkward arrangement slowly shifts into something much more than you could have ever expected. A genuine friendship forms - one that neither of you realizes is quietly growing into something more.

Pairing: Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

Content: The slow-burn finally has some progression; a little bit of emotional hurt/comfort; Riddle and the reader open up to each other; took some creative liberties with the reader's family and backstory from back home

Word Count: 3,371

Notes: I'm playing around with the formatting of my fics. I'm still contemplating whether or not I should have a chapter synopsis for each part and if I should include links to my masterlists in the beginning or end (or both) of my fics. Let me know what you guys think! Also, super excited to finally release this chapter!

The library had become familiar in a way you never expected. Not just the space itself, but the towering shelves, the soft rustle of pages, the faint scent of old parchment, and the table you always used. The one tucked near the window, where the afternoon light spilled across the wood in warm, golden strips.

Being chucked into an unfamiliar world has its downsides, as one might expect, and when you first arrived in Twisted Wonderland, you refused to study outside of your room. It was the one place you could hold to yourself, despite its dire state of being, and you despised studying anywhere else. Not with so many eyes on you, constantly watching your every move, seemingly almost waiting for you to make yet another mistake.

As you made your way in, you noticed that Riddle was already seated, as punctual as ever, his notes arranged in that familiar, neat, symmetrical layout you have thus grown accustomed to.

"Good afternoon," Riddle said, without looking up, though the slight lilt in his voice told you that he had indeed noticed your arrival, and, dare you say, was a tad happy about it. You allowed him to finish writing whatever he was writing, while you slid into your usual seat. You pulled out your notebook, flipping to the page you'd been working on earlier. "I went over the stability charts like you suggested."

Riddle finally looked up - and paused.

You were already working.

No hesitation, no second-guessing, no glancing at him for his reassurance.

Just...working.

He watched as you traced the sigil pattern with your finger, murmuring the cadence under your breath. Your brow furrowed, not in frustration, but in concentration. You weren't overwhelmed. You weren't lost. You were focused.

And enjoying it.

He could see it in the way your eyes lit up when you realized that you had drawn the sigil exactly as it was in your textbook. He could see it in the smile that ever so slightly tugged at the corner of your lips when something clicked.

"You have improved in your sigil drawings," Riddle said, unable to mask the tone of pride in his voice. "The lines are clear, and there are no mistakes."

You glanced up, akin to the hedgehogs back in Heartslabyul.

"Yes," He said simply. "Your cadence in incantations has also stabilized significantly."

You grinned, bright and sunny, something warm flitting about in Riddle's chest - something that couldn't be named. Perhaps satisfaction? Pride? The quiet joy of watching someone grow under your guidance?

You reached for the reference book beside you at the same time he did.

Your hands brushed, lightly, naturally.

"Oh-sorry," You said, but your smile was easy, unbothered.

"No need to apologize," Riddle replied, handing you the book. "You may use it first."

Your skin came into contact with his once again as your fingers brushed his knuckles.

Neither of you froze.

Neither pulled away.

You flipped open the book. "Okay, so...this particular sigil needs to be rotated this way because the sigil's orientation affects its stability, right?"

Riddle leaned in slightly, not enough to crowd you, but enough to see the page. "Correct. And why is that?"

"Because the energy flow needs to align with the incantation's cadence," You replied, tapping the diagram. "Otherwise it creates resistance."

Riddle smiled. "That is exactly right."

You beamed. "Look at me, sounding like I know what I'm doing."

"You do know what you're doing," He said, and the sincerity in his voice made your smile soften.

You worked for a while in comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional question or quiet explanation. Riddle corrected you once - twice at most, and even then, his tone was gentle. Guiding rather than strict.

At one point, you paused, fiddling with your pen, swishing it around. "Hey, Riddle?"

"Yes?"

You hesitated. Then laughed softly. "I feel like I should tell you something."

Riddle straightened slightly. "Go on."

"So...I was honestly terrified of you at first."

Riddle's brows furrowed. "Terrified?"

"Yeah," You said, swirling your pen around faster. "You were kinda intense. Like, really intense. The first time I saw Ace with the collar, I was pretty freaked out. We don't have things like that back home, y'know?"

Riddle's ears turned faintly pink. "My...apologies."

"And during our first session," You continued, "I was scared to get anything wrong. I thought you'd lecture me for breathing wrong."

"I would not-" Riddle began, then stopped. "I suppose I can understand why you felt that way."

"But," You said, leaning forward, "after the overblot and after getting to know you, I realized you weren't angry. Just...anxious. And precise. And just genuinely trying really, really hard and always trying to be perfect."

Riddle's breath caught.

"And now?" You said softly, focusing on the slate of his blue eyes. "Now, I see how patient you are. How much you listen and how much you care about helping people improve. I really admire that. I also just wanted to say thank you for being so patient with me and helping me...even if Professor Crewel told you to."

Riddle stared at you, stunned into silence.

"...Thank you," He said quietly. "That means more than you know."

You smiled. "I'm glad!"

A moment passed, soft, warm, and marshmallow-ey.

Then you tilted your head. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How...how are things with your mother now?"

Riddle stiffened - not in fear, but in surprise. "My mother?"

"Yeah," You encouraged softly. "You mentioned that things were complicated before, and after the whole, well, overblot thing, I just...wondered if they've gotten better."

Riddle looked down at his hands.

When he spoke, his voice was calm and careful.

"It is still...awkward," He admitted. "We are speaking more. I am trying to advocate for myself, and she has been trying to give me space. But it is still incredibly unfamiliar to both of us."

You listened quietly, nodding.

"I have spent so long following her rules," Riddle continued, "and truth be told, I do not know who I am without them. I am still learning to create boundaries and to exist within them. And my mother is still learning how to let me."

"That sounds really hard," You replied delicately.

"It is," He agreed. "But...I am trying. And so is my mother. That is enough for now."

You smiled, tender and proud. "I think you're doing great."

Riddle's chest tightened with something fragile and new.

He cleared his throat. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yes," He said. "Your home. Your family. Do you miss them?"

You blinked, surprised by the question.

And then you talked.

Seemingly, it was all you could do. You told him about your home, your family, the things you missed, the things you didn't, the foods you no longer get to eat, the people you no longer get to see, the world you don't know will be yours ever again. You told him of your dreams and plans. The ones you had before coming to NRC. You feared speaking too much, of yapping Riddle's ears off, but every time you met his eyes, you couldn't help but keep going.

Riddle listened - truly listened - asking thoughtful questions, nodding at the right moments, and offering placid empathy.

You didn't realize how long you'd been talking until you finally paused, noticing that the sun had slipped away from your favorite corner, leaving only the haunting glow of the green lanterns in its place.

"Oh," You said softly. "My bad. I didn't realize that I had been talking for so long."

Riddle closed his notebook. "This was nonetheless a productive session. I rather enjoyed hearing about your world, though I find some things hard to picture."

You smiled. "Yeah, I guess so."

As you packed your things, Riddle watched you with a gentle expression. When you finally slung your bag over your shoulder and headed out, waving an exuberant goodbye to him, Riddle lingered for a moment, allowing the quiet to settle around him. The session had been the best one yet, and the thought left a small, steady satisfaction in his chest.

He stepped out of the library a minute later, heading toward the path that led to the dining hall, where Trey and Cater were already waiting for him. And as he walked, that same quiet satisfaction continued to replay in him.

It wasn't excitement, nor was it anything dramatic. Just a warm, grounded sense of rightness - the kind that came from seeing genuine progress, from knowing that his guidance had helped someone grow. It was a feeling he didn't get often, but one he found himself appreciating more and more.

The dining hall was already buzzing with evening chatter when he arrived. The clinking of silverware, the hum of conversation, and the faint scent of freshly baked pastries in the air. Trey spotted him first, lifting a hand in greeting from a table near the center.

"Riddle! Over here," He called.

Cater waved enthusiastically beside him, reminiscent of your own antics every time you leave your tutoring sessions. "Riddle-kun! We saved you a seat!"

Riddle approached, posture straight but noticeably relaxed. He slid into the seat across from them. smoothing the napkin on his lap with practiced precision.

"You're in a good mood," Cater observed casually as Trey passed Riddle a plate.

Riddle blinked. "I had a rather productive day."

Trey's smile deepened ever so slightly - subtle, but knowing. "Productive is good."

Cater leaned forward, elbows on the table (Riddle stiffened at that). "Ooooh, does this have anything to do with your tutoring session with a certain Ramshackle Prefect today?"

Riddle paused mid-reach for the bread basket. "Yes. She demonstrated significant improvement."

Cater's grin grew wider. "Significant, huh?"

"Yes," Riddle replied, unaware of the trap he'd just walked into. "Her sigil drawing has improved dramatically, and her cadence control has become consistent. She's also begun identifying structural patterns without prompting."

Trey raised an eyebrow. "That's impressive."

"It is," Riddle agreed, a faint note of pride slipping into his voice. "She has been working very hard, and it is clearly reflected in her results."

Cater's grin widened. "Wow~ Listen to you! Praising someone so much. I'm shook."

Riddle frowned, "I do not see why that is surprising. I praise people often."

"Oh, no reason~" Cater said lightly. "Just that you sound...I dunno. Proud?"

Riddle stiffened. "I am acknowledging her progress. That is all."

"Sure," Cater said, leaning back with a smirk. "Just acknowledging progress. Totally neutral. No warm fuzzy feelings involved."

Riddle's ears went faintly pink. "I do not experience 'warm fuzzy feelings.'"

Trey snorted into his drink unhelpfully.

Cater all but pounced. "You sure? Because you walked in here looking like someone told you the Queen's Roses were painted red with no reminder from you."

Riddle sputtered. "That is an exaggeration-"

"Is it?" Cater teased. "Because you've got this little smile-"

"I am not smiling."

"You kinda are though."

Riddle found himself pressing his lips together immediately, which only made Cater laugh harder.

Trey shook his head, amused. "Cater, leave him alone."

"What? I'm just saying," He replied innocently. "It's nice to see him so happy."

Riddle opened his mouth to admonish him - but paused.

Happy.

Was he really that happy?

He considered it. The quiet satisfaction. The warmth. The sense of accomplishment. The easy he always felt during your tutoring sessions. The way your laughter had lingered in his mind longer than expected.

"...I am pleased that she is improving," He said finally, choosing his words with care. "It reflects well on her effort."

"And on her tutor," Trey added gently.

Riddle's ears turned pinker. "That is not relevant."

Cater smirked. "Uh-huh. Sure~"

Riddle huffed, stabbing a piece of roasted vegetable with more force than he normally would have applied. "This conversation is becoming absurd."

Trey chuckled. "Relax. We're just teasing."

Riddle, in fact, did not relax, not fully anyway, but the tension in his shoulders and the pink in his ears eased. He took a bite of dinner, letting the familiar flavors ground him again.

The conversation drifted to other topics - Heartslabyul events, Cater's latest Magicam trend, Trey's baking experiments - but every so often, Trey would glance at Riddle with a small, knowing smile.

Riddle was by no means distracted. He was no longer flustered, and he certainly wasn't daydreaming. He was simply...lighter. More at ease. More open. More content.

And Trey, having known him for many years, noticed.

Cater noticed too - but unlike Trey, he couldn't resist poking the bear.

"So," Cater said casually, swirling his drink, "when's your next tutoring session with her?"

"Tomorrow afternoon," Riddle replied without hesitation.

Cater's sharp grin returned. "Wow, you answered that fast."

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "It is simply scheduled. There is nothing unusual about that."

"Sure~" Cater teased, smirking. "Nothing unusual at all."

Trey continued watching, tickled and pleased with the free mealtime entertainment he was getting.

Riddle sighed, exasperated. "Must you both behave like this?"

"Yes," Cater said cheerfully.

"Absolutely," Trey added.

Riddle stared pointedly at his friends (what a nice ring that had).

But even as Cater teased him and Trey chuckled, that quiet satisfaction from earlier didn't fade.

If anything, it nestled itself deeper within him.

Across campus, you were having a very different evening.

You had barely stepped into the Ramshackle common room before Ace's voice rang out, booming and noisy.

"There she iiiiis! Miss Honor Student!"

You froze mid-step, bewildered. "Huh?"

Ace leaned over the back of the couch, grinning like he'd been waiting specifically to ambush you (which he probably was). "So? How's tutoring with our super uptight Housewarden?"

Deuce, sitting beside him, winced. "Ace, don't say that."

Jack crossed his arms. "Seriously. Show some respect."

Epel snorted. "I dunno, I think it's pretty true."

You blinked, finally actually stepping inside your own dorm fully and setting down your bag and coat. "He's not really that uptight. Or strict."

Sebek turned sharply at this. "Discipline is the foundation of strength. If the Housewarden of Heartslabyul is tutoring you, he should be stricter!"

Ace rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Housewarden might have changed after his overblot, but he's still hella strict. You know he still gives me those terrifying glares whenever I do anything, right?"

"That's because you still mess up. It's a miracle you haven't been collared yet." Deuce added helpfully.

"I'm serious! He's really not all that terrifying!"

"Ha! That's how I know you're lying!" Ace accused.

"I'm not lying!" You insisted, plopping yourself down on a chair. "He's patient. And he explains things really well. And he listens. And he's actually really-"

"Really what?" Epel asked.

"If you'd let me finish," You glared at him pointedly, "just...really helpful. He's never yelled at me or been short with me despite how many times I've messed up, and he's just a really good friend."

Jack nodded in solemn understanding. "You sound pretty passionate about defending him."

Deuce nodded. "It's nice, actually. I'm glad that you two seem to be getting along well."

Sebek slammed a fist over his heart. "LOYALTY! ADMIRATION! Yes, this is the manner in which one should speak of a superior!"

You smiled at that. "I mean...yeah. Riddle's really impressive. He's smart and dedicated, and he's changed a lot since the overblot. I really respect that!"

Sebek pointed at you triumphantly. "EXACTLY! You understand! Just as I admire Wakasama's unmatched brilliance, you admire that of the Housewarden of Heartslabyul."

You nodded enthusiastically. "Right! Riddle's growth is honestly really inspiring. And he's so good at teaching and he's-"

Ace and Epel exchanged a look before bursting out in laughter.

"Holy shit," Ace said, clutching his chest and wheezing. "You like him!"

Your brain suddenly lost all of its ability to function. "What!?"

Epel laughed maniacally, smacking Ace's shoulder repeatedly in his bouts of laughter (which made Ace shoot him a dirty look). "You totally do!"

"I DO NOT-!"

"You so do!" Ace exclaimed victoriously. "Look at you! You're defending him more than Trey or Cater ever did! You're defending him like he's your boyfriend or something."

"He's not-!"

Jack raised his hands. "Guys, knock it off. Don't tease her or Houswarden Rosehearts like that."

Sebek nodded earnestly. "Indeed. Such admiration is natural when one is in the presence of greatness."

You pointed at Sebek. "THANK YOU."

Sebek puffed up like a pigeon. "You and I are the same! Admirers of true excellence!"

Ace snorted. "Yeah, except she's admiring Riddle, not Malleus."

Sebek gasped, offended and indignant. "THE HOUSEWARDEN OF HEARTSLABYUL IS A RESPECTABLE MAGE!"

"Exactly!" You jumped back in, flustered, but grateful. "He's-he's amazing! He's smart and disciplined and he's worked so hard to change and he's-"

Ace smirked. "Keep going. This is great!"

You threw a pillow at him. "SHUT UP!"

The pillow was narrowly dodged, but Deuce's face became the unfortunate recipient of the pillow embedded with all your annoyance.

"Oops, sorry, Deuce!" You apologized, cheeks warming further.

"She's blushing!" Epel screeched.

"I AM NOT BLUSHING-!"

"You totally are~" Ace said, running like a mad chicken with you hot on his trail. "You totally like him!"

"NO I DO NOT TRAPPOLA DAMMIT-!"

Of course, that's the moment your voice gave way for a crack, which ended up being all the ammunition they needed.

Ace collapsed onto the couch, wheezing with laughter, no longer breathing. Epel was wiping tears from his eyes. Even Deuce was smiling, though he tried to hide it. Jack shook his head, mildly amused while Sebek launched into yet another tirade about the virtues of powerful mages and how admirable they are.

You stormed up the stairs towards your room, but Ace wasn't done.

"Hey!" He called after you. "Make sure you study extra hard tomorrow! Wouldn't wanna disappoint your favorite housewarden!"

Epel chimed in, "Yeah! Maybe he'll give you a gold star! Or a kiss on the forehead!"

"I SWEAR TO GOD EP-!"

You nearly tripped over the stairs, heat pummeling through your head.

Jack winced at the sight. "Guys, seriously."

Deuce sighed. "You're going to make her explode."

Sebek nodded gravely. "Indeed. Such teasing is unbecoming of Night Raven College students! However-" He added, eyes practically gleaming, "-I do understand the admiration of a powerful mage. Lord Malleus is unmatched in grace, strength, and magical prowess!"

You blinked, walking down a few steps. "I mean...yeah. Malleus is incredible."

Sebek lit up like a Christmas tree. "YES! EXACTLY! You understand TRUE GREATNESS!"

"Riddle's pretty cool too!" You blurted before you could stop yourself.

Ace and Epel howled.

You fled back up to your room, slamming the door behind you.

But their voices echoed in your head.

You like him.

You like him.

You like him.

You heard as the boys left, one by one, taking their rowdiness with them.

You paced.

You sat at your vanity, brushing your hair.

You stood.

You changed your clothes.

You paced again.

You pressed your hands to your face.

"No," You muttered. "No, no, no. I don't. I don't-"

But then you thought about that time he gently corrected your formula for a magical equation. It was your third tutoring session, back when you were still nervous around him. You thought about the times he's listened to you whenever you yapped about something that came to mind - just like earlier today. You thought about the way he genuinely didn't seem like the Riddle you first met soon after you woke up in a coffin. You thought about the comfort you felt around him, how the two of you could sit in silence for however long, and how it no longer felt awkward.

You thought about the way you defended him as much as you did today. Was it really any more than what anyone else would have done? You thought about how you had come to look forward to your sessions. About the way he smiled, actually smiled, it just seemed so right. Like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Your breath hitched.

"Oh no," You whispered.

You knew.

You liked him.

Like, like-liked him.

Really liked him.

And there was no denying it anymore.

You sank into your bed, burying your face into your pillow.

"...Oh no."

Author's Note: I've been super busy, and it's genuinely been so depressing just thinking about how long it's been since I last wrote a fanfic. On one hand, I've just been so swamped, and on the other, I've been going through a weird writing rut. Right now, I'm just trying to get back into the swing of things, so hopefully that goes well!

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Series Masterlist

Masterlist

[palatinewolfsblog]

"Education costs money. But then so does ignorance." - Claus Moser

[waynefamcore]

Tongues of Justice

Clark: “Bruce… you ever think about how many people you can’t reach because of language barriers?”

Bruce: “All of them, eventually.”

Clark: “No, I mean literally. Like, talking to people in their own language. I want to do that.”

Bruce: “You want to learn a language?”

Clark: “More than one. French, maybe Russian… even Swahili. Imagine connecting like that.”

Bruce: leans back, unimpressed “You realize this isn’t just vocabulary flashcards, right?”

Clark: “I know. That’s why I want you to help.”

Bruce: deadpan “Because I enjoy watching you struggle?”

Clark: grins “Partially. But mostly because you’re… good at this. You understand structure. I need that.”

Bruce: “You’ll butcher pronunciation. You’ll trip over verbs. And you’ll get frustrated every day.”

Clark: “That’s okay. I learn fast.”

Bruce: pauses, folds arms “Fine. But no whining. You train like I trained. Precision, discipline. Daily.”

Clark: “I can do that.”

Bruce: “…And we start with Russian.”

Clark: “Russian? I thought we’d start with French…”

Bruce: “You wanted tutoring. You don’t get to pick the first lesson.”

[samsheadraws]

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