#smartness

My guy, im the kinda person that will punch you in the face, regret that decision then proceed to do the same mistake again

dont overestemate me

Fandom : Lockwood & Co.

Pairing : Female Reader X George Karim

Request by @thestrangerblog "Intellectual reader is tired of vain guys who are good looking and know it and think that's enough to get every girl they want. Then reader meets George who is proud of his intellect and who sees brains and character strength in her and not just a pretty face and hot body."

You were tired of them. The peacocks. The guys who sauntered into the room, all confident smirks and perfect hair, thinking their good looks alone could win them the world. They were everywhere, especially in places like this—academic conferences on the supernatural. You had hoped for serious discussions, intellectual stimulation. Instead, you found a sea of vain, posturing boys who thought a charming smile and a well-fitted suit were enough to make them experts on ghostly phenomena.

Sitting in the back of the lecture hall, you scribbled in your notebook, full of doodles and half-formed ideas about the origins of ghosts. The current speaker droned on about the latest theories, but your mind was wandering. You glanced around, noting the usual suspects—guys trying to network rather than truly engage with the material. Typical.

Then he spoke.

“What about the spiritual residue left by traumatic events? Your theory doesn’t account for the variance in Type Two ghost manifestations,” said a voice, sharp and probing.

You turned to see the source. A young man with disheveled hair and a look of intense concentration on his face. He was scribbling something in his notebook, quick. It was messy, you just knew it.

The lecturer, a renowned but notoriously complacent professor, stumbled over his words. “Well, uh, that’s an interesting point, but—”

“But nothing,” the young man cut in, his tone sharp. “If we don’t consider the psychological impact and the nature of the trauma, we’re missing half the picture.”

You were intrigued. This wasn’t the usual superficial debate. This was someone who cared about the truth, who dug deep into the complexities of the supernatural.

When the professor tried to dismiss the question, you couldn’t help yourself. You stood up. “He’s right,” you said, your voice steady. “Ignoring the emotional resonance of traumatic events skews our entire understanding of ghost origins. We need a more holistic approach.”

The room went silent. The professor looked flustered, and several attendees turned to see who had dared to challenge the status quo. But the young man—George, you remembered—smirked and nodded approvingly.

__

During the break, you found yourself gravitating towards George. He was still scribbling in his notebook, muttering to himself.

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

He looked up, surprise flashing in his eyes before he smirked again. “By all means. I could use someone who actually gets it.”

You sat down next to him, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement. “I’m really tired of these guys who think they know everything because they look good in a suit.”

George snorted. “Tell me about it. They’re more interested in networking than actual knowledge. It’s infuriating.”

You nodded vigorously. “Exactly! It’s like they think their charm can substitute for real understanding.”

“Unfortunately, that’s the world we live in,” George said, his tone slightly bitter. “But there are a few of us who see through the facade. Want to grab some pizza for lunch? We can discuss how wrong that professor was.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

And that is why, over slices of pizza in a quiet corner of a nearby café, you and George talked non-stop. He told you about Lockwood & Co., the agency he worked for, and the various cases they had handled. His stories were captivating, filled with danger and mystery. Jesus, it seemed better than the work you had in your agency, boring, usually the same routine everyday.

“I’ve always been more interested in the origins of the Problem,” George said between bites. “The nature of ghosts. It’s not just about dealing with the manifestations, it’s about understanding why they happen in the first place. This is just... fascinating”

You nodded, feeling more connected to him with each word. “That’s exactly what drives me too. There’s so much more to uncover, so much that the mainstream theories just… gloss over.”

George leaned back, looking thoughtful. “You know, we should team up. Present our own findings. Show these superficial idiots what real research looks like.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You mean it?”

“Absolutely. I can tell you’re serious about this. Together, we could really make an impact.”

He was right.

__

Two months flew by in a whirlwind of research, late nights, and shared passion. You had spent the majority of your free time with him, and it felt so, so, so nice. As the day of the presentation dawned, nerves mingled with excitement. Standing side by side in front of a packed lecture hall, you and George delivered your findings with confidence and conviction.

The audience was spellbound, hanging on your every word. Even the skeptics couldn’t deny the weight of your evidence. And when the final word faded to black, applause erupted throughout the room.

As the attendees filed out, exchanging compliments and inquiries, you and George found yourselves outside, the air buzzing with post-presentation energy.

“Pizza?” you proposed, a smile tugging at your lips.

George’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely.”

The pizzeria was bustling with activity, but you managed to snag a quiet corner booth. As you sat down, the adrenaline of the presentation still coursing through your veins, a comfortable silence settled between you.

It was George who broke it first, his voice soft and contemplative. “I can’t believe we did it.”

You nodded, a warm glow spreading through your chest. “We make a pretty good team, huh?”

He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “The best.”

As you both dug into your slices, savoring the victory and the delicious food, you felt a surge of courage. You glanced up at George, meeting his gaze head-on.

“It’s a date,” you said, your voice steady.

George’s eyes widened, and he choked on his slice, coughing and sputtering. After a moment, George regained his composure, his cheeks tinged with pink. “I—I mean, yes. Yes, it is.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. For a man that smart, he can sure as hell be clueless sometimes.

__

It was fun writing this, thank you for your request, i hope it was good enough! I'm trying to get back to writing for hours after stopping for maybe a year and oh my i missed it SO MUCH???? also yes i feel like food keeps appearing but oh well it just gets people together. again if you've got request DO NOT HESITATE, i write them based on who commented first but they're all going to be posted! thanks for reading this hehe, take care!!

There are people who say:

The time has come.

Artificial intelligence is smarter than humans.

And I ask myself: