#I went back to school taking a class at a time and built myself back up from there

[chaotic-archaeologist]

My boyfriend is a jewish trans archeology student trying to get back into school after having to drop out during covid, do you have any words of advice or encouragement?

Wow, this feels a lot like being asked to give advice to my past self... if I could go back in time and say something to 2018 Reid (who was going back to school under similar circumstances, although my break from school was not pandemic induced), it would be something like this:

Ultimately, this is an exercise in trusting yourself. Initially, this may be hard to do, and that's understandable—your world has been turned upside down and school did not go how you expected it to. Forgive yourself for this. But with every class you attend, every paper you write, and every test you study for, keep in mind that you are building trust in yourself that you can do this.

Notice that I didn't tie any of those activities (going to class, writing, studying) to the grades you may be given. Yes, you need good grades to pass, but they're also not the best or only metric of your success. You may have hard months or semesters where your grades take a dip, and that's fine. What matters most is how you recover from these moments. Nobody is going to care about your GPA when you get into the real world, and grad schools care more about how you do overall than whether you managed to get a 4.0 every semester.

You're also a different person this time around. You know yourself better. You are more mature. You have survived hard things. Use that to your advantage! Nobody whose opinion is worth a damn is going to think less of you for coming back to take a second crack at this.

Take some deep breathes. Make yourself a plan. Use all of the resources at your disposal to help you succeed. Our society has instilled in us a belief that college is supposed to take four years, and that's just not true. It takes as long as it takes. Make the best out of this experience now that you're here.

-Reid

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, Mentions of drugs, mentions of court

Sunday came and went in a blur of textbooks, highlighters, and coffee that had turned cold by the time I got round to drinking it. I spent the entire day curled up in my apartment, buried in law casebooks and lecture notes, trying to chip away at the mountain of assignments that had built up over the week. Law school had a way of piling things on without warning, and it was tough to stay on top of everything.

But, despite all the reading and studying, my mind kept drifting to Chris. That stupid accidental like on his Instagram post had spun me for a loop, and no matter how much I tried to push it out of my head, it kept creeping back in. The embarrassment was almost unbearable. Why did it bother me so much? I’d accidentally liked posts before, and it never affected me like this. But this was different. This was him.

Chris Sturniolo, the boy who had practically disappeared from my life without a word. He had just faded away, like a distant memory. And now, years later, I was reminded of him, suddenly thinking about him more than I had any right to. Maybe it was the nostalgia, or maybe it was the curiosity of what had happened to him. Either way, I needed to think about what I had in front of me.

By the end of the night, I was no closer to finishing my assignments, but I had at least made some progress. I pushed my laptop aside and let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling of my room. Tomorrow would be a new day, and I had more important things to focus on, like sitting in on a real courtroom session for class. I needed to be sharp and professional, not distracted by old crushes and awkward social media moments.

I passed out somewhere around 1am, and before I knew it, my alarm was going off and I was dressed and heading out the door, ready to make my way to the Boston Municipal Court. The air was crisp, the chill of fall settling in as I walked through the city streets. My nerves were kicking in, not just because of the courtroom experience I was about to witness, but because of the burning feeling that something was about to shift. I couldn't explain it, but I put it down to anxiety about the court case, how I could see someone's life trajectory change in a matter of moments.

I arrived at the courthouse, its towering stone facade looming over me as I approached. It felt both intimidating and exciting, like I was about to step into a new chapter of my life. This courtroom session was an essential part of my course, and would be continuous over this school year - a real life experience to get a feel for how things worked in the legal world. I was supposed to be focused on the case, taking notes, observing the process, everything a future lawyer would need to know.

But as I stepped inside and found a seat toward the back of the courtroom, my thoughts kept drifting. I couldn't shake Chris from my mind. Why now? Why was he coming up in my thoughts so much? We hadn’t spoken in years, and yet here I was, obsessing over an accidental like on his ghostly Instagram account. It didn’t make any sense. I had so much more to worry about, but the memory of him kept pulling me away from the present.

The courtroom slowly filled with people, lawyers and clerks coming in and out, papers shuffling, the judge already seated high above. I forced myself to sit up straighter, grabbing my notepad and pen, determined to focus. This was important. I couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“The court is now in session” the judge’s voice boomed, commanding attention.

I scribbled the date at the top of my notepad, trying to look engaged, but my thoughts wandered again. Stop it Y/n. 

The prosecutor began introducing the case. My pen hovered over the notepad as I half listened, already feeling my focus slip away. Something about possession, conspiracy to sell, it all sounded so dry compared to the whirlwind going on in my head.

But then, the prosecutor said something that yanked me out of my thoughts.

“The defendant, Mr. Nathan Doe—”

My heart nearly stopped.

What?

I blinked, my brain struggling to process what I’d just heard. Nathan Doe? There was no way.

I snapped my head up, my eyes wide as they locked onto the judge. My pulse quickened. Could it really be him? Nate Doe, the guy same guy that was only mentioned just the other night. Chris’s best friend.

I looked around the courtroom, my stomach twisting. It had to be a coincidence, right? But I’ve never met another Nathan Doe.

The judge continued, outlining the charges: too much weed, conspiracy to sell, and smoking in public. It wasn’t the most serious of offences, but still enough to land Nate in front of a judge. And now that I was really listening, I knew, this was him. This was Chris’s Nate, standing trial for a drug charge.

I sat back in my seat, completely thrown off. What were the odds? It felt like the universe was pulling me into something, something I wasn’t prepared for.

The case moved forward quickly. The prosecutor outlined the details: Nate had been caught late at night with a sizable amount of weed on him, enough to raise suspicion of intent to sell. There had been rumours he was involved in something bigger - something connected to the ongoing gang feud between the Crimson Cartel and another gang. But those rumours had been dismissed, simply because they’re hear say. Nate was just a guy caught with too much weed, nothing more.

I let out a breath. At least it wasn’t anything more serious. Nate had messed up, sure, but it didn’t seem like his life was about to be ruined over this.

The judge leaned back, considering the case for a moment. The room was quiet, tension hanging in the air. Then, finally, the judge gave his ruling.

“Nathan Doe, you are hereby ordered to make a charitable donation of $2,000 and to complete 50 hours of community service. Additionally, you are expected to refrain from any drug related activities for the next 12 months. Any violation of this order will result in harsher consequences.”

I sat there in stunned silence as the courtroom began to stir, people packing up their papers and preparing to leave. Nate had gotten off pretty lightly, all things considered. No jail time, no heavy fines, just a slap on the wrist and some community service. He’d been lucky.

The judge adjourned the court, and I stood, gathering my things. I was still processing everything when I saw it.

The back of a head, messy brown hair standing out among the sea of people leaving the courtroom.

Chris.

I blinked, certain I was imagining it, but there was no mistaking it. The same messy brown hair, slightly longer than I remembered, and the familiar dishevelled style. He was standing just a few rows ahead of me, getting up to leave as casually as if this were just another day for him.

My heart pounded against my chest, my mind racing to process the sight. He was here.

The courtroom felt like it had shrunk in size, the walls closing in as my vision narrowed on him. Chris, the boy who had vanished from my life all those years ago, was standing a few feet away. Older now, but still unmistakably him. He was taller, more solid, but the sight of him sent a jolt of electricity through me. How could this be happening? The rush of memories collided with the reality of the moment, the image of him, a person I never thought I’d see again, suddenly thrust back into my life.

And my god, he was still just as good looking. Maybe even more so. His face had matured, the angles sharper, and there was a quiet intensity in the way he carried himself now. Gone was the boyish charm, replaced by something darker, more serious.

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling slightly as I tried to keep it together. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. What were the odds? First Nate, now Chris? My mind raced, panic setting in. Should I say something? Should I call out to him? No what the fuck would I be doing yelling in a court room. Oh my god he definitely knows I was stalking him too. Maybe I should just avoid him. The idea made my stomach churn, the second hand embarrassment from the accidental Instagram like still fresh in my mind. my mind screamed. I’d tried to play it cool, but there was no undoing that little heart popping up on his post. Maybe he hadn’t noticed?

God, I hoped not.

Just avoid him. 

That seemed like the best idea right now. Avoid him and get out of here before I did something stupid or said something even worse. But as much as I told myself to leave, my feet wouldn’t listen. My eyes were locked on him, glued to the sight of him moving through the aisle, his head slightly lowered as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

I tried to snap out of it, to move, but the weight of my thoughts held me back. It was like seeing a ghost, someone I had long thought was buried in the past. But here he was, alive and real, and my heart didn’t know how to handle it.

As he neared the doors of the courtroom, my body finally kicked into gear. I shuffled down the aisle, clutching my things tightly and keeping my gaze low, hoping I could sneak out without running into him. Just keep your head down, Y/n.

I had just made it into the hallway when I felt a presence beside me. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced sideways, and there he was. Chris.

No, no, no.

His eyes caught mine before I could look away. Shit.

“Y/n?” His voice was deeper than I remembered, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo

[emmyrosee]

okay so, this evening has not been fun for me, so ofc I’m gonna try coping via escapism 🤩

and as always you are absolutely NOT obligated to write it. I’m so serious, if you don’t want to there’s absolutely zero pressure emmy, I’d completely understand one hundred percent.

very long story short, I got my grades back for this semester and despite doing soooo much better overall this year than my first year and not failing a single class this time around, unless I get a miracle it’s looking like I’m going to have to be asked to withdraw from my university for a whole year ☹️

and as someone who got straight As from elementary til my last year of high school/made school my whole life, this is just an enormous blow to any self confidence I had finally built back up. I was doing better mentally and finally feeling a bit like myself again and I’ve just felt so sick with anxiety all evening because I don’t even know what to do anymore. If they decide to ask me to leave, it’ll make my chances of medical school even slimmer than they already were and I can’t help but feel like a bit of a failure and like I’ve just ruined my future despite knowing it’s not all true and I still have options :(

it’s so hyper specific and I’m so so so sorry abt that, but would it be possible for some comfort + tons of fluff with kuroo possibly? I just want to be babied a bit by this fictional man LOL. I feel like he’d know exactly what to do and how to get my mind off of it until I inevitably get that email :(

anon <3

My love, I am so sorry you’re having to go through this, and I am here, to PERSONALLY, tell you that you are far from a failure, and you should still be proud of yourself for getting so far. It’s okay to have bumps like this that halt your dreams, and it doesn’t make you any less deserving of continuing to chase those dreams. And hey! Use me as an example! I went from being a mechanic for four years and being fired for being so terrible (yes that is an actual thing that happened) then I went to college for writing; and now I’m a licensed esthetician with a focus in makeup artistry! There is no such thing as a dead end, no such thing as a closed room, just keep treating yourself gently and reminding yourself that this is far from over, your dream is still more than obtainable with some time and it is more than okay.

Ahem. Let me get off my soapbox PFFFF-

——-

Last night, you refreshed your emails who knows how many times, staring at your computer screen on the verge of hyperventilating for what felt like hours- and it might have been; your brain can’t process how long it was right now.

Your bottom lip was tight between your teeth, the hand on the mouse pad trembling, waiting in anticipation, tight with nerves. Your other rested a fist on your lap, waiting for the results and occasionally wiping a rogue tear that falls.

There’s a soft rapping on the door, but you don’t turn to face it. You merely keep refreshing.

“Hey,” tetsuro whispers, and you hear his feet padding into the room, and when he gets next to you, he crouches down. Once again, you can’t spare him a glance. “Any updates?”

You stay silent. He winces, “I’ll take that at a no…” he lays a warm hand on your back and gently rubs it in circles, “it’s okay baby. We’ll figure it out, we always do.”

“Tetsuro, please,” you whimper, not quite in the mood for a pep talk. “I’m going to puke right now, my life is in flames and crumbling around me, I’m so nervous, please. Save the pep talk, I can’t handle it right now.”

“I'm sorry,” he soothes. He doesn’t say anything further, just rubbing your back in slow, firm circles with his palm, blinking his golden eyes up at you warmly, lovingly.

You feel your body cramp from being under his loving touch, suddenly dawning on you just how long you've been sitting in the chair, inert and unwilling to peel your eyes from the email inbox. You suddenly become hyperaware of how your legs feel numb, your fingers are cramped and your eyes are burning. It's the first time in hours you've taken a break from your refreshing to scrub at your eyes, breeding a wetness to try and soothe the sting.

You hear Tetsuro sigh, "why... don't we go to bed, angel?"

"No."

"But-"

"I can't," you whimper. "Not now. Not yet-" your breathing picks up as you look at him in despair, chest fluttering and heart pounding as you try to breathe. He furrows his brows and shushes you softly, big hands moving to cradle your cheeks and force you to look at him.

"Baby," he says softly, but firm enough to ground you. "It's late. They're not going to send it this late at night. And if they do, we'll deal with it when we wake up tomorrow. But I'm almost certain they're not going to send it to you this late. I promise, okay?"

You let out a shaky sigh and look at the time: 22:43. It's far too late to be thinking, to be worrying, and you'd much rather breakdown in the comfort of your own bed, than alone in this wooden chair.

But you do know that, no matter what, Tetsuro is going to be right next to you, rubbing your back and cradling you close.

When you say nothing, Tetsuro slowly stands up and scoops you in his big, strong arms, "come on, angel face. Let's get some rest." You thunk your head against his chest and fist your fingers into the collar of his shirt, letting him carry you to the bathroom where he plops you down on the countertop.

He grabs your toothbrush and some toothpaste, and gently tells you to open, which you sleepily do. He's extra careful, making sure to get every tooth he can, scrubbing softly as to not make you uncomfortable. Silence, save for the bristles on the toothbrush, fills the room, the corner of Tetsuro's tongue sticking out in focus.

"Okay. Spit," he says, moving so you can comfortably turn your head and spit the froth out. Skincare comes next, and his touch is even softer as he massages in every product you use.

"Good girl," he whispers, picking you back up to carry you to bed. "My good girl. Good, brave girl..."

You drift off in his arms at his praise, not even feeling the way he gets you into pajamas or gets you under the covers, the exhaustion of the constant high of anxiety weighing you down.

Waking up this morning, your bones feel like bricks under the wall of your muscles, barely able to move under the force of it all. Your skin feels like paper, so hyper aware of it now that you’ve had the time to come down from your anxious state. You blink up at your ceiling, eyelids tight as you do, and you continue to stare and let your body wake up molecule by molecule, inch by inch. You feel it coming to life, and you slowly bring your hands up to press the heels of your palms into your eyesockets to force the rest of the sleep out of your eyes.

When your hand then drops next to you, you feel yourself grow saddened at the lack of warmth. Tetsuro’s been out of bed long enough to let his side cool down, and it makes you want to cry at the idea of being alone right now.

You never should’ve shut him down last night. All he wanted to do was help, and you shut him up and made him feel bad, now he’s not even in bed with you anymore, and you feel tears sting at your eyes again, this time out of anxiety of making him upset, and-

“Ah, you’re up.”

Your guilty, howling mind shuts up as soon as tetsuro’s body makes its way into the doorway, smiling and stirring his tea with a spoon. “Good morning, babygirl.” He takes a step into the bedroom and before you know it, he’s at your side, sitting on the bed next to you. He uses his free arm to wrap around you, but not pull you to his chest. “Did you sleep okay?”

“No,” you whimper, voice croaky. He nods and lets his thumb rub up and down the curve of your shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you last night.”

His brow cocks in confusion, “huh?”

Now, finally, you turn to face him, “I snapped at you… I told you to-“

“You told me you didn’t want a pep talk,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s okay. You’re allowed to tell me that my words might not be the most helpful. I’m not going to get mad at you for that. It’s not like you told me to shut my ugly ass up- you’d never do that, I’m too pretty.”

This, for the first time in what feels like days, has you crack a smile. You let out a small laugh, breathy and barely there, but he smiles proudly all the same, pulling you in for a hug now. “You’re a goof,” you murmur.

“And you, need to eat something,” he whispers against your head, and you deflate in his arms again. “Don’t you protest me, you know you have to eat something.”

“‘M not hungry,” you say.

“I know, but you didn’t eat last night, and I let you sleep in-“ at his words, your eyes flick to the clock on your nightstand, red numbers flicked onto 10:24. “You have to have something.”

“But-“

“I know,” he says. “Do you want something sweet, or savory?”

20 questions. It’s something he does after a fit of your anxiety to try and make your life just a hair easier, decisions quicker, and your day just a bit brighter because you’re getting exactly what you want. He claims he used to do it with kenma, hence why he’s so good at it.

“Uhm…” you shrug, “why not both?”

“Both?” He echos. “Okay. Do you want fruit?” You nod. He nods with you. “Okay. How about a bagel?” You nod again. “Okay. With some cream cheese?” You shake your head and he clicks his tongue, “butter?” You shake your head again, “okay. Uhmmmm-“

“I want to do it,” you mumble, and he presses a kiss to your head.

“You sure? Because I can whip something up-“

“I have to do it. I have to put the toppings on my bagel.”

He nods a final time and squeezes you close, “okay. If you need any help deciding, I’m right here, okay? I’ll be cutting your fruit.”

You hum and slowly swing your legs out of the bed, stretching and mewling from the force. When your hand instinctively darts for your phone, he clicks his tongue, "leave it. You don't need it right now."

"But-"

"I told your family to text me if they need you. Your phone is on do not disturb. Leave it there, babe." He swings his own long legs over and extends a hand out to you, wiggling his fingers enticingly for you to hold. When you grab three of them, he smiles and slowly leads you into the kitchen.

The news is playing on tv at a low volume, there’s a discarded blanket on the couch, and you quirk a brow in intrigue, “tetsu, how did you know I was awake?”

He shrugs, “my life shifts when you wake up for the day. I feel it in my soul.”

“Ew.”

“Shaddup.”

You laugh again, smiling a weak smile as you plop down at the table. He makes his way to begin cooking your bagel, popping it in the toaster before making his way to cut up your fruit. You sigh and play with your fingers, wondering if you should make conversation, or let silence rule, and you sigh shakily before opening your mouth to speak. “What’re you going to have?”

“I, my love, already ate some toast with some apple jelly and butter.”

“Oh.”

“But I’m going to pick at some fruit with you, because I don’t want you eating alone.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“I know,” he hums. Then, he turns to face you with a smile. “I want to.”

Your heart flutters as you smile at him, looking down at your fingers to distract yourself. Usually, you’d be scrolling through your social media, checking apps and emails, but since he forbade it, you’re left to listen to him sing softly and the newscaster drone on and on. After a few short minutes, your bagel pops, and he plates it with some sliced fruit and places it in front of you, before kissing your head and grabbing various toppings for it.

Breakfast drags, but in a comforting way, where it drips by so slow like honey, syrupy sweet as Tetsuro talks. He talks about everything and anything, about the game Kenma's going to stream for charity, and the funny meme he sent the streamer- or funny to Tetsuro at least, as allegedly Kenma left him on read. You find yourself eating at his company, and before you know it, your bagel, juice, and fruit is gone. You look down at your plate in surprise, and he wiggles his brows at you, "feel better, angel?"

"Uhm... yeah," you say, almost confused. "I didn't think I was that hungry."

"I don't care how you thought, I'm glad you ate." He stands out of his chair with a stretch, "you still hungry? I can make you another-"

"No," you sigh. "I... I really should check my email-"

"Not until I give you a bath and a massage."

You quirk your brow, "you're going to give me a bath and a massage?"

"Of course," he chuckles, "If you're too anxious to give yourself some self care, that's plenty fine, but that means I'm going to give you self care." He shrugs, "those are just the rules."

"Do you even know how to give a massage?"

"Bokuto and I used to massage each other after practice all the time." Your brow quirks higher, and he holds his hand up, "don't ask. Just trust me."

"Can Bokuto give me a massage?" You tease, giggling at the way he gives you a fake smile and a high pitched "no," to tease you.

He presses a kiss to your head, "I'm going to go run the bath, why don't you get changed and meet me in there?"

"Okay," you hum. He nudges your nose with a finger before stalking down the hall to the bathroom. When your hear the tub running, you make a dash towards the small office room for your laptop, nervous to check your email, and-

"I took it out!" He calls, followed by a cackle.

"You're an ass!"

"It's your favorite ass, though!"

You grumble and make your way to the bedroom to get undressed per his request, stealing one of his oversized shirt to conceal yourself until the tub is filled. You stalk into the bathroom and blush under the way his eyes glaze up and down you, "fuck, I love you in my clothes."

"Back off, I'm about to bathe," you snort.

"Yeah, but I can still find you hot." As the tub fills, he adds a scoop of epsom salt, and a splash of bathing bubbles, large bubbles brewing on the surface of the water. You smile and watch them shape and form, the sweet smell filling the air around you. You feel excitement brewing inside of you as you watch him turn off the water and push himself up and off the floor with the edge of the tub, "should do it, baby. I'm gonna let you soak, I'll set up for a little massage after, make you nice and comfortable.

"Okay," you mewl. He presses a kiss to your lips and makes his way to the door. "Hey, Tetsu?" You say, reaching for his hand, which he takes happily. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, babygirl," he whispers. "You know that." He pinches your cheek and leaves the bathroom for you to relax.

The bath water is warm as you soak in the epsom salt, feeling your muscles loosen and relish in the combination. You bury your face in the bubbles and close your sleepy eyes, letting the smells lull you into a state of relaxation. Your head is still heavy with anxiety, but your heart is full of love and warmth for your boyfriend.

You're not sure how long you were floating in silence, lost in the bubbles and oils, but he gently knocks on the door, "you okay? Haven't heard you for a bit."

"Yes," you mewl, stretching. The water is now chilly and the bubbles are mostly gone and you rub your hands over the surface of the water. "Is the massage stuff ready?" You tease, looking at your hands and wincing at how pruny they are.

"It's been ready, I didn't want to bother you," he snickers. “Come out when you’re ready, just wanted to make sure you were alive.”

“I’m alive, I’m coming,” you call, getting out of the tub to dry yourself. You take your time drying off, trying to enjoy the last little bit of warmth clinging to your skin. You leave the bathroom to get dressed into some clean pajamas, smiling as tetsuro busies himself with the whole massage set up. “Candles? You spoil me.”

“There’s a lot of smells going on,” he says with a face.

“I know I can tell,” you hum. Getting dressed, you slip on a pair of his boxers and a shirt, and you make your way to the bed to wait for him.

“Alright-“ he pats the bed for you to crawl on top of. “C’mere, let me pamper you.”

You giggle, “you have been pampering me!” Regardless, you swing your legs onto the bed and lay on your stomach, squeaking as he straddles you and cracks his knuckles.

He lays a massive paw on each of your shoulders, using his thumb to splay and press the muscle under his force, and your eyes cross in the middle and flutter in relaxation. They work in circles to press into the muscles, before laying flat on your back to dig his heel into before his fingers press and roll back up to your shoulders.

Thick fingers roll over the knot in your right shoulder, no doubt from the refreshing of the page for hours on end last night. You whine and bury your face in the bed, and he hums, "I know beautiful, I almost got it."

"Feels good," you murmur.

"Told you it would," he says softly. “You need to trust me.”

“I think I trust you too much,” you snicker. Tetsuro says nothing, merely offering you a laugh through his nose as he continues with the massage.

Your body twitches as the tips of his fingers dig into your side as part of the massage, but your snicker doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “Something wrong?” He hums, doing it again.

"Tetsu!" You giggle, reaching behind you to try and stop his wrists, "that tickles!"

"That's crazy, I'm not tickling you," he snickers, and it's hard to tell if he's lying or not. "I mean, I can tickle you, if you want-"

"No!" You squeal, and your laughter turns choppy as he uses the sides of his hands to playfully chop up and down your back, making your body instinctively let out bumpy noises from your mouth.

“Quite an attitude on ya today,” he taunts, before hooking his fingers up under your arms, making you shriek, “okay, now I’m tickling you.”

Your mind spins from the sensory change, the signals in your brain cross, but one thing is for certain:

The email is far from the front of your mind.

And it feels good to laugh.

[lizsgraveyard]

Detention : S.Shinazugawa (+18)

Author’s note: Reblogging is allowed but please do not post anywhere else without permission, I saw someone else stealing fics from demon slayer and posting it somewhere else

Author - Lizsgraveyard

Summary: What’s the best way to spend your Friday night? With your teacher in detention, who you just so happen to have feelings for.

Pairing- teacher. Sanemi x f!reader

Warnings: smut 18+, Jealous Sanemi, spanking, fingering, oral, student-teacher (this takes place in a college AU)

note: I posted this originally on me Ao3 but finally decided to post it here. Side note: I’m not very good at smut, so I apologize. Not spell checked. I very much love math teacher Sanemi.

———————

I sighed as I walked into my next class. My eyes struggled to stay open. I mentally kicked myself for leaving my English essay until the last minute, resulting in only four hours of sleep. Fortunately it was my last class of the day, and the last day before the weekend. But unfortunately it was math. My worst nightmare. I barely skimmed by in high school, but it’s even worse in college. But there is one positive thing about the class, the professor. 

The first day he walked into the classroom I could help but fall for him. He looked to be around 25. With his white hair and his shirt unbuttoned revealing his built body, it was a bit of a distraction. 

But I can’t help but to push these thoughts aside. He is a professor and I am a student, I couldn’t risk him getting fired. Also, he seems to be close with our other professor, Kocho.

I entered the classroom, walking to my usual seat in the back of the classroom. As I was walking though, I could shake the feeling of a pair of eyes watching my every movement.

I sat down at my seat. Class began as soon as I did. I pulled out a notebook and began jotting down notes as Professor Shinazugawa began to explain new equations from the unit we started just recently. Just listening to his voice is enough to distract me. What is wrong with me? I let the very existence of this man take over my thoughts.

Those thoughts were interrupted by a note landing on my notebook. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I looked up to my right and saw my friend Akira, who was not in his usual seat. He was looking ahead, to not look suspicious. I rolled my eyes and picked up the note and read it discreetly.

“Having a party tonight, wanna come?”

I rolled my eyes. And leaned over to whisper, “Couldn’t you have asked me before class or waited until it was over?” If Shinazugawa caught him passing notes, I would hate to see what would happen to him. I mean, he threw a student out a window for saying math was useless.

“What are you worrying about, we’re in the back of the class, he’s not gonna notice,” He whispered back. 

“While that might be true, it’s a risk I’m not willing to take, you know I’m not doing so hot in his class, it wouldn’t make it look any better if he caught me talking during the middle of his lecture.”

I’m not trying to get him to hate me more than he already does. Did I mention that, I’m probably his least favorite student. 

“Let’s just pay attention Akira before we get into trouble,” I told him sternly.

“Come on (Y/n),” he began begging like a child.

I shook my head no and started writing down notes.

“(Y/n) please?”

“No, Akira.”

“(Y/n)!”

“Akira, I said-“

“Hehe, that wasn’t me,” Akira said sheepishly.

I could feel my stomach drop and my heart beating out of my chest. I slowly looked to the front of the room and saw him glaring at me. I made a mental note to clobber Akira later but that is the least of my worries right now. I am in so much trouble right now.

“If you like to talk during my lecture, then I hope you will like sitting through detention, after class!”

 He went back to his lecture, not even sparing another minute on the matter. Which I’m thankful for. Usually he will scream you out, sometimes it takes up the entire class time. But still, I did get in trouble in front of everyone.

I slumped back in my chair, my face burning from embarrassment. I glanced over at Akira, who gave me a sheepish smile. I glared at him and turned my attention back to the lecture. The least I can do is to get back to work, as I was doing before. This time without a certain someone yapping in my ear.

What’s the worst that can happen? Maybe he’ll just yell at me. Maybe he won’t throw me out a window. Or maybe something else can happen.

——————

The last bell of the day finally rang. I would be more excited, but I have to stay behind while everyone else gets to go home for the day. There goes my plans for sleeping as soon as I get home. I groaned silently as I started packing up my things so I could move to the front of the classroom. 

Before I got very far though I was stopped by Akira. Who still had the same sheepish smile on his face.

“Sorry about that Y/n, I was just trying to prove you wrong, guess you were right,” he apologized, “Are you still gonna come to my party?”

”I’ll think about it.”

He smiled before hugging me. He let go and waved me goodbye, mouthing ‘good luck’ as he left the classroom. I continued my way towards the front of the class and sat in one of the seats. I took out the math homework he had assigned for today and started working on it. Pulling out the notes to help me. I read over my notes trying to do the problems the best that I could, but I didn’t seem to help in any sort of way possible. 

Suddenly I felt someone standing behind me, looking at me failing miserably to solve just one problem on the worksheet. I turned my head around slightly and saw my professor looming over me, it was a little intimidating.

“We went over that formula, when you were disrupting my class,” he sighed, taking a seat next to me, “Do you want to tell me exactly why you decided to ignore my lecture to talk to a boy?”

“I-I wasn’t talking to him, I mean I was, b-but he spoke to m-me first,” I rambled on. I must look like I was trying to come up with an excuse right now, but it doesn’t help that he’s sitting so close to me.

”And you let him continue talking to you.” Why did it sound like he was jealous? No, he couldn’t be. I’m sure he’s seen Akira and I talking after class and outside of it. We were just friends and nothing more.

”Believe me sir, I was trying to get him to stop but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

He tensed up after I called him sir but immediately composed himself. Why was he acting like this? I didn’t want to offend him in any way, and sir was very polite.

”There are other guys you can talk to besides him you know,” he grumbled a little bit.

My mind went blank as I stared at the worksheet. Maybe I’m just reading too much into it. That tends to happen when you have a crush on people. All kinds of thoughts ran through my head at that moment.

Did he not approve of Akira?

Did he know something about Akira that I don’t?

Was he referring to himself when he said that?

Am I just an actual idiot for actually thinking these things?

I decided to ask him about it, “What do you mean professor, who would you suggest I talk to then?”

He smirked at me a little bit, causing a blush to spread across my face.

”I think you’re looking at him, darling.”

I was at a loss for words. This isn’t really happening. 

He leaned in closer to my face, our lips just inches apart, but he hadn’t connected them yet. He just stayed in that position for a moment. Not moving an inch closer. I wanted to beg for him to just close the gap.

”One thing, don’t call me professor, I want to use my name,” he said, “Because it’s what you’ll be screaming for the next two hours.”

“W-what?”

He closed the remaining space between us, slipping his tongue in while my mouth was open because of shock. I let out a soft moan as his tongue explored my mouth. I soon snapped out of my daze and placed my hands on the back of his head and pulled myself closer to him. His lips left mine and I felt him nip at my neck. I let out a surprised gasp as he did so. He pulled away, satisfied with the hickey he left.

“Now darling before we do anything, I still have to punish you,” he huskily. I stared at him in confusion. I felt him lift me up and bend me over his knee, pulling my skirt up, revealing my white lace panties. He ran his hand over my ass before giving it a harsh slap. I yelped, it hurt, but in a good way.

”Let’s see, I caught you talking five times and there were two of you talking, so how about I ten, don’t you agree darling?” He asked.

I nodded my head. “You better speak before I double that.”

“Yes, Sanemi,” I replied to him. He smiles, before running hand over my ass again before saying, “Count with me.”

Slap

“One!”

Slap

”Two!”

Slap

“Three!” I moaned out.

I heard him chuckling, “are you enjoying this?”

”Yes,” I answered sheepishly.

He continued on with the punishment. Each of his slaps, each getting harsher as he made way to ten. I could feel my panties drenched afterwards. I felt him grope me before sitting me back up in his lap, leaving a kiss on my shoulder. Without him asking, I stripped down my underwear down my legs.

”Eager are we?” He asked and I nodded my head. He slipped his hand between my legs and into my folds. I moaned a little as he did so. His fingers found their way to my clit and he started rubbing it in circles. I whimpered, my hips bucking at the contact. I was wishing for more than just that. “What do you want darling?”

“Your fingers,” I begged him.

I felt his fingers trail down into my folds. He inserted two fingers, thrusting them at slow pace. I started bucking my hips again to meet with his fingers. He groaned behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me from moving. I felt something poke me from below, my face grew more red than I already was. I felt him add another finger as he quickened his pace a little bit. 

I let out a loud mewl as I felt a familiar knot starting to form. I felt him add another finger as he quickened pace. I was so close to my climax. But before I could feel my release, he removed his fingers. I let out a whine at the loss of contact, and the fact that I was so close to my release. 

“Darling, what did I say I wanted to hear from you?” He asked, letting his thumb rub my nub at a slow pace, “I want to hear you scream my name, don’t hold anything back, okay.”

“Alright,” I replied. He slowly added his fingers back, keeping his thumb on my nub. He was pumping his fingers at a slow pace.

“Sanemi, please go faster,” I begged him. He did as I asked and started pumping his fingers at a faster pace than he was going before. I felt him nipping and kissing my neck. I continued letting out loud moans, his pace kept getting quicker.

I finally felt that knot in my stomach again, “Sanemi, I’m gonna come!” I moaned loudly. He quickened his pace, rubbing my clit faster as well. I kept letting out loud mewls, until the knot finally came undone.

“Sanemi!” I screamed as my high came. Short quick breaths came out of my mouth. I turned to kiss him on the lips.  I pulled away and got off his lap to start unbuckling his pants. He grabbed my hand away, stopping me from what I was about to do. He continued on, unzipping his and pulling them down to his knees with his boxers. Stared at the size of it it was big but not too big, exactly what I imagined it would be.

“As much as I would love to see your mouth around my cock, we can’t stay in here forever, your detention is almost up,” he said. I moaned at the thought of it. He spit into his hand and stroked his member before lifting me, pulling up my skirt, and slowly inserting it. I winced a little bit and dug my head into his shoulder. He stopped and asked, “Are you okay, do you want me to continue?”

I nodded, “Yeah just don’t go too fast please.” He continued sitting me down on his cock slowly. I bit into his shoulder and he groaned softly. He lifted up his hips and slowly thrusted into me. 

It took a little bit before the pain turned into pleasure and I moaned when he thrusted into one last time. “You can go a little faster.” He didn’t waste any time as he picked up his pace, bouncing me on top of him as he did so. He lifted up my shirt and bra and started sucking at my nipples. I let out loud moans, if anyone were to walk by, they would know exactly what was going on. But thankfully, all the students are usually at home and the teachers are in the teachers lounge, which is on the other side of the building. 

“Do I make you feel good?” He asked.

“Yes!” I said loudly.

“I wouldn’t compare to anyone else? No boy would ever make you feel this way?” His thrusts started getting faster and harder. 

“No Sanemi, you can only make me feel this way.”

“Good, because I better not see you around anyone else. You’re mine.”

I felt that familiar feeling come back, and I can tell he knew too. He picked me up and sat me on the desk, so he could thrust into me even harder. Endless moans left my mouth.

“Come for me darling,” he said, “Don’t hold anything back, show me how good of a girl you are.”

I threw my head back and screamed his name as I came. He came shortly after me, cumming deep inside of me. Thank god I was on the pill. He leaned down and placed one last kiss on my lips before sliding my panties back up. He picked up a piece of paper and scribbled something down and handed it to me before pulling up his pants. 

“Have fun at your party, no boys,” he said sternly.

“Yes Sanemi,” I said before standing up, grabbing my stuff, and waved at him one last time before exiting the classroom.

I looked down at what he wrote down.

“Call me later tonight.” He wrote down along with his phone number.

Maybe I won’t beat up Akira after all.

[theotherbuckley]

This is payback for the 40 something sentences btw

👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼👧🏼🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁🚁😘😘😘😘

I brought this upon myself.... i have many regrets.

👧🏼 - dad!buck teacher!tommy (bucktommy)

“Daddy’s coming?” Bella asks, looking up at Buck with the biggest puppy eyes.  “Not today, baby, you’re at big school now!” He replies, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Come on! I’ll show you where your class is,” Christopher says enthusiastically, offering up a simple wave to Carla before he starts walking towards the classrooms, looking back towards Bella when he realises she’s not following. “Daddy has to come,” she begs, grasping on to Buck’s leg and holding on for dear life.  Buck honestly didn’t expect Bella to cry when he went to leave — frankly, he thought he’d be the one crying, watching his girl all grown up. Bella was never really the shy kid, always happy to meet new people and do new things. She could talk to strangers for hours about the most outlandish things. The other week they were at the zoo with the Diaz’s and Bella had walked up to the zookeeper, asking 100 different questions about sea otters which had become Bella’s latest hyperfixation for about a week. Buck had watched her talking away, smiling fondly. He had turned to Eddie shaking his head saying he didn’t know where she got it from to wish Eddie gave him a very pointed look and said, “Seriously?” So apparently ADHD is hereditary.  Point is, he didn’t really plan on Bella clinging to him the way she was now, and he didn’t know what to do. He’d do anything for his daughter, and watching her look up at him as she clung to his pant leg, made his heart break. He was helpless to do anything but walk up to her classroom with her.  They followed Christopher into the school, taking twists and turns that had Buck worrying how he was going to get out of this maze when he left. Chris finally stopped at the door of a class that had a bright pink number 5 cut out stuck to the door.  “Are we absolutely sure this is room five?” Buck joked upon seeing the sign. Bella looked up at him, hand still gripped tightly to Buck’s and said, “Yeah, Daddy, see! Number five!” she said, pointing to the door. They’d been practising number’s recently, Bella already surpassing Buck’s mental arithmetic ability by being able to add 5 and 7 — Buck still had to use his fingers. She definitely inherited her mother’s ability for math.  A second bell rang loudly in the hall, causing Bella to jump slightly in his hold. He squeezes her hand gently a few times to comfort her before looking towards Chris who still needed to get to his room. “See you later, Bella!” Christopher says, turning to walk down the hall towards his own class. “Come on, Bellie,” Buck said, guiding Bella into the class. There were about 10 other children sat at desks in the class, a few still with their parents which made Buck feel better about coming into the room with his daughter — not that he would leave anyway, not until he knew his daughter was happy. Noticing some cubby holes at the back of the class, Buck ushered Bella towards them to put her bag down.  Distracted by getting Bella into the desk that had her name on it, and getting her settled, Buck never stopped to look at the front of the class towards the teacher. When Bella had finally let go of his had, now apparently forgetting his existence and chatting very enthusiastically to a boy sat beside her, Buck looked up to see Bella’s teacher drawing in big letters on the whiteboard.  Buck has no idea how he missed him walking in because the man was huge. Buck thought his arms were huge as a firefighter but holy shit… apparently being a teacher makes you built like a fucking tank. The man was writing in curly letters on the board, spelling out “Mr. Kinard”. Once he’d finished he turned to face the room. Buck instantly noticed his deep blue eyes and the cleft of his chin that painted a very lovely picture for him to look at. The man caught his eye for a moment and smiled, the corners of his eyes and nose scrunching with smile lines that Buck felt completely normal about.  Buck had to clamp his mouth shut when he realised that he’d been staring, slack jawed at the objectively very handsome teacher.

🚁 - helicopter crash s8 (bucktommy)

The siren blares loudly above his head, some suburban house fire or something. Buck only half registers it, still stuck staring at the screen in front of him. He’s distantly aware of Eddie calling for him but he just can’t right now. He can’t. Captain Gerrard moves in front of the TV, forcing Buck to snap out of his gaze. “Get a fucking move on, Buckley,” he practically spits. Buck moves mechanically, forcing himself out of his chair and following his captain down towards the fire engines.  “Can I— Can I be man behind this time?” Buck says, his voice sounding small to his own ears.  “No,” Gerrard replies simply, not even turning to look back at him.  Johnson had been the man behind all day, apparently in punishment for failing to adequately wash the fire engine. Buck knew that the real reason was because Gerrard caught his boyfriend dropping him off in the morning.  “Please,” Buck says again, hating the way his voice breaks in the middle. He can’t focus right now — he’d be useless as a firefighter at the scene. It would be safer for everyone if he stayed back. Please— “Get in the truck,” Gerrard shouts at him. 

😘 - pet names 10+1 (bucktommy)

Buck swallows. “What-whatever do you mean, sweetums?” Buck says, before wincing immediately. “Okay, okay,” Buck relents, “I’m trying out pet names. And they’re not going great, especially not sweetums.” Buck cringes again. “But, I will come up with a good one. Just you wait.” Tommy’s expression turns fond as he stares at Buck with the cutest look Buck thinks a man could possibly make. “Baby, you don’t have to give me a pet name. Tommy’s fine,” Tommy says sincerely. “Besides,” Tommy says, lips quirking up at the edges. “I kinda like hearing you moan my name.” Buck trips through the door.

[katzchai]

private session for free // seo changbin x reader

pairing: seo changbin x reader contains: fluff, personal trainer seo changbin, date invitation

"okay, maybe it's not that bad." i said to myself while looking at my reflection in the glass doors.

i've moved to a new city a month ago and i've finally built up the courage to get out of the apartment after work and try a new gym. back in my hometown, i'd visit the gym once a week for the fitness class and i loved it. perfect amount of a workout and fun.

if someone would try to call me a gym rat i'd laugh in their face. do i like going to the gym? like the actual gym? hell no. i always hated the PE classes at school and i still remember all the times when the coach would scream at us because we couldn't hit the ball right or run for longer than 5 minutes without a break. it wasn't until the coach got sick in the middle of the last semester and we got a new PE teacher that i started to enjoy something gym-related.

our new teacher introduced us to fitness and she would hold one class a week. that was the only time i had fun. after graduating and starting a job i decided to try fitness in my free time and it became a part of my friday. everyone would go to clubs on fridays but me? i'd get my bag and go straight to my favourite gym in the city.

now after moving for a new job, i had to find a gym in the city that's not only close to me but also feels good - the right vibes have to be there - otherwise it's not fun at all. i did my research on maps to see where the closest gym is and i found one 5 minutes away from my apartment so after work i went home, grabbed my bag and i came here.

now, as i'm standing in front of the doors i'm thinking if i'm at the right location. everything inside looks so - black and white. no character to the place and i'm rethinking my decision to come here. but hey, momma didn't raise a quitter.

as i'm opening the doors and stepping into the gym i hear lots of very upbeat music. "okay, i can still turn around and go back home." and as i'm about to turn around a lady behind the desk pops up. 

"hey! welcome to hitshOt, the only gym in the city where nobody judges you. is it your first time here?"

"yes, hello. i was thinking about signing up for the gym membership."

"awesome!" the girl behind the desk has a name tag and while i'm coming up to the desk i read that her name is dabin. "we don't offer any free trials but we offer the best equipment and the best personal trainers so i'm sure you'll find something for yourself here."

"oh actually, do you offer any fitness classes? i'm not interested in the typical "macho" stuff. i prefer something more... fun."

"i'm so sorry but we don't. we're in the process of firing more staff and maybe one day. but hey, you can go in and take a look around and if you decide to stay you can pay me once you'll be going out." am i disappointed? yes. this is the closest gym to me and the ratings were high but if there's no fitness this is not a place for me.

"well... i'm sure the gym is amazing but no thank you. i'm not interested. to be honest with you Dabin i hate working out in a gym because it seems like everyone is waiting for you to fail. i'll keep an eye on your website to see if there are any fitness classes in the future though."

as i'm picking my bag from the floor i can hear a strong voice behind me. "who said that the gym is only for the typical "macho" stuff? i'm pretty sure you can do anything in there and have fun." i turn around and see a very muscular guy who is definitely at the gym almost 24/7 - i mean who has arms like that and doesn't go to the gym? "do you think that maybe you could give the gym a chance with me?"

"and who are you?"

"changbin. i'm a personal trainer here and before you say anything - i'm willing to get you on a private session with me for free. i've got time since the person who was scheduled didn't show up and i can show you around and maybe you'll decide to stay with us."

"and what if i don't want to try out the gym with you?"

"i can take you out for a coffee and convince you that working out can be just as fun as fitness."

shocked i start to wonder why this guy is so keen on getting some one-on-one time with me. i won't lie he is handsome and i'm all for the meet-cutes but something seems fishy.

"i can see you haven't decided yet, so i'll be in the cafe next door," he says and walks up to me. when he stands next to me he whispers "the coffee and the private session will be on me, beautiful. no matter what time."

and what do i do? i say bye to dabin and walk out of the gym and head to the cafe. you never say no to a free coffee. and a private session with a "macho" like that.

[thelittleveterinarian]

Time to be (supposedly) Alive

Towa City. My old home. The place where I lost everything, myself, and carried so much on my back. A thirteen year old girl with a cat managed to save thousands only to be harmed by some. It combinated into an attempt to end my life.

I survived. At times I wish I didn't. I have so much trauma. I don't remember all of it. My body does remember. The day I was taken away for immediate treatment never fails to mix my feelings. Adults and awake children hailed me as a savior. A beacon of hope. For me I was in despair as I couldn't take the pain I went through anymore. I didn't want to be like Junko, the Warrior of hope, and the Remnants of Despair! I knew I couldn't let despair win in the long term.

It's been awhile. I'm going to Hopes Peak Academy for a while now. I've been slowly moving forward. My schedule dedicated to having classes in the mornings till noon then I have several appointments at Hope Mercy. Most of the appointments are learning to use my prosthetic legs. The last few are counseling with a graduate from the school who works at the hospital. They're nice.

Today, I've been thinking about the past. It's just numb for me. My mom, dad, older brother and Lilith died in that city. My clinic died there to.

I've came to realize that, I still want to live in Towa City once it's rebuilt and start a new. I've had plans for a large animal hospital and animal shelter built in one another for a while now. The issue is that I want to have a family who cares about me. Adoption doesn't seem promising for me as my problems are heavy, not to mention complex. Sure I could live alone but, it doesn't feel right to me.

I also have to consider my protection. The C.O.R.E and Future Foundation have been keeping the media and other things away from me. They'd even have some action on what I can do in helping them. It all sucks.

Soon, I'm going to be fourteen years old. I don't know what to feel at this point. I'm upset as it marks I've made it through the unfeasible then sad as I don't have a family of my own to think about.

At least I have Scout and Spike. Spike is now a therapy bot! That makes me happy a little bit.

Tenshi shut her journal. Fourteen years old and has nothing. It was tuff to handle.

She slumped her head over her chair, "two days till fourteen. Fuck this hell called life."

It's been a while since she's been staying in the school dorms. She decided I'd be best to stay on campus other than be with one of the survivors. She didn't want to burden anyone at the moment.

Tenshi looked at the clock, "damn. I haven't slept in three nights. Fucking insomnia."

~

Tenshi tossed a ball into the air. Spike went off to catch it. Other pets where running around the park in the sun.

"Damn. What am I supposed to do?" Tenshi muttered.

-----------------------[tags]----------------------

@mercy-of-the-ashes @human-monokuma and anyone else!

[davenswitcher]

I got tagged by the wonderful @cinnamontails-ff for WIP Wednesday!

I'll be showing two wips that I have.

WIP Wednesday:

To be or not to be

TW: parents are shitty, heartbreak, maybe unhealthy coping mechanism, parents dictate their sons future

Chapter 1: The Stage Is Yours

Astarion loved the theatre. The creativity, the beauty of witnessing a live performance and forgetting any problems he currently has for a few hours. So, it came to no surprise when he joined a theatre club back in high school to the disappointment of his parents. His parents loathed the idea of him eventually becoming an actor. Acting does not pay bills and leisure, they said, and hoped it’s just a phase.

So, when he graduated and told them his plans and what he wants to study, his parents couldn’t believe their ears. He and his parents never fought badly, mind you. But this must be the most heated argument he ever had with his parents in his 22 years of living.

“You can’t be serious Astarion! Acting is a poor man’s profession! Do you want to ruin our reputation? Our family consists of a long line of magistrates and doctors. So, naturally, you will study law. End of discussion!” His father scowled. His anger could rival that of a barbarian.

“Father, please.” Astarion pleaded, “I can not see myself locked in an office overseeing cases and making judgments for the rest of my life. I’m a free-spirited, individualist. I’m not made for a profession like that.”

“Listen to your father, Astarion. He knows what’s best for you. Besides, your job is not supposed to be fun. It’s for the purpose of financing your life and societal status. Our family’s status was built on hard-working academics.”

“I’m going to my room.”

“Son, manners.”

With a sigh, Astarion replies: “May I retire to my room, please.”

His father replies stoically: You may. And son? Your grades have been lacking the past months. It’s not up to par with what we’ve come to expect from you. We might discuss this later, though.”

As he enters his room, he slams the door shut and locks it lest his parents come in uninvited. Why can’t his parents understand? Why can’t they accept his choice?

He sits down at his desk and takes out his diary. It has become a habit for him to write his feelings and thoughts down. Ever since his puberty, the constant turmoil of feelings and the ever-growing expectations of his parents, he found it easier to write his thoughts down than to talk about them with his parents. Which is a huge shift because he used to be very close to them. Especially his mother, who understood him and even talked him through his first heartbreak. It was painful to see her little angel go through the pains of a heartbreak. He loved them so much. He and Quinn planned to move to Baldur’s Gate together and study. Astarion would study the arts of theatre, while Quinn would become a doctor. They had a bleeding heart and wanted to help and heal beyond Baldur’s Gate. Until Astarion caught Quinn having a quickie behind the school's gym with his classmate Sheila. He wordlessly went away, lest he say anything hurtful to them. Quinn tried to talk to Astarion, but how are you going to justify cheating on your partner? Especially with someone your partner hates to the bone? The next day, after the cheating incident, Astarion and Quinn talked it out in their lunch break and Quinn broke up with Astarion. They were his first love. Together for three years, from fifteen to eighteen years old.

The following two weeks were very hard for him. He missed classes and stayed home the whole time. Crying and blaming himself how he couldn’t have foreseen the signs. They were there, weren’t they? Cheaters drop signs all the time they cheat, don’t they? One night, in a fit of sadness and self loathing, he sneaked into his bathroom and cut his hair. From hip length locks to neck length curls. He loved his long hair. It was always decorated in the finest elven jewellery, but not any more. He’ll keep the short hairstyle for years to come.

The Rockstar and The Groupie

Chapter 1

“Estellé”

It was Friday afternoon. Just three more hours and Estellé would be free for the week, and she could finally go to the concert she had booked the tickets for. Fourth row and VIP. She was going to meet him! The most famous rockstar of their generation and everybody's favourite bad boy. Estellé saved up half a year for the tickets. VIP tickets were even more expensive than regular. Well, makes sense you're going to meet THE star, after all. Astarion Ancunín. Rockstar, bad boy, sexiest man alive 3 times in a row.

Estellé worked over time a few times to even afford to save up. As a college student in linguistics and philosophy, you don't get paid like the trained hotel workers do. She lived in a small flat that costs what feels like more than it's worth, the university fees have gone up (not by much, but it still hurts) and has to buy expensive textbooks every new semester. The least she could do was reward herself with a good time. Especially if it's her favourite singer and songwriter.

“ESTELLÉ!” Estellé was startled out of her stupor by her least favourite colleague. “Where did you put the guest list for the coming season? I told you it needs to be visible for us. Always. Lest we let in someone who didn’t rent a room here.” The “Swords Of The Sword Coast”, where Estellé was working at, prided themselves for being exclusive and luxurious. The hotel had a list of guests and if you didn’t rent in time you had to wait a season. Maybe two if a certain rockstar rented multiple floors to have privacy. Astarion was a frequent guest in the hotel thanks to his manager. Apparently his manager knew the founder of the hotel. It used to be a motel for pirates around three to four centuries ago, he told him.

According to a colleague he arrived four days ago, but she hasn’t seen him come out of his room yet, and he orders his breakfast and dinner to his room. His manager said to her, “it’s one of his moods again.” She shrugged it off as rockstar eccentrics, although being so reclusive doesn’t match his stage persona, she thought. Astarions manager creeped her out a lot. He’s rather tall and has a piercing stare. Does he ever blink? His hair is slicked back and he talks as if he’s the star not Astarion. Most of the stars requests she receives are through his manager. Cazador Szarr is his name. He has been working for the Crimson Label for a few decades now. He took Astarion Ancunín under his wing when he used to play indie rock and grunge in small taverns. His look was not as glamorous and his hair was shorter and unkempt. A far cry from today. His usual stage wear nowadays is black, leather, fishnet and a bandana. His makeup is either smudged around the eyes or perfectly done with eyeliner, mascara and eye shadow that is black with a hint of silver. Thus, his blue, gold flecked eyes seem to pierce you even more.

“Miss….?” Estellé was rearranging a few things behind desk to leave the desk for the next colleague who'd take the next shift when she was startled by a soft voice. “Miss, I have a request to make.”

“Oh, Mr. I didn't see-” When she turned around she saw who was standing in front of her. Dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, hair tugged in a bun and yet still manages to look good.

“Mr. Ancunín I'm so sorry. What can I do for you?”

“Don't call me Mr. please. Mr. Ancunín is my father.” He leans forward and reads her name tag. “Estellé… what a beautiful name. Estellé, would you be so kind to send dinner a little later to my room? The show starts in a few hours and I'll be at the hotel at 1am or 2am at the latest. Would this be possible, darling?”

He called her darling and Estellé might think she's melting and heating up at the same time.

“I'm sure this can be arranged! I'll tell the staff that takes the next shift to send your dinner to your room when you've come back.” She answered in a higher pitch than intended.

“Thank you very much.” he does a little appreciative bow and leaves.

[avissapiens]

Jockbull Summer Week 2 (19/11/23-25/11/23)

Model used is Tsonghan Wu

1

Went hard with the push ups this week. It gives me such a euphoric rush. I’ve built my chest in the gym normally so by the time I've got a pump from doing a single set of push ups I've got my own set of stress toys to flex and play with. The highest score for this week was 36 with no backtracking. One notable Session involved Scandinavian_King(of Set C fame) pushing me harder and harder to keep doing sets past my first one. Each time to failure. I get so easily riled up with shit like that. Guys taking advantage of the muscle lust to push me harder. I think that night I got a total of 90 in a 5 min span.

2

Muscle related competition was a bit sparse this week. K was out sick so no push up rival. I did end up trying to beat my great friend Teal’s record of 50. That did not work. But I'll get there. Need to get there. Need to fucking win.

3.

This is a fortnightly task but I have noticed an issue. It is related to the problem of me defaulting to these shitty pieces of clothing just cause they are there. I wear them, they make me feel like a dysmorphic trash bag and then because I wear them they are dirty and get put in the wash basket. Which interrupts me being able to instantly put them in the Task box. Luckily I've got some Rawgear stuff coming to pad out the wardrobe before I get to those pieces.

4.

This was the first time I actually got to practice the accent with Jockrs. Truth be told, I'm fucking great at that kinda stuff. I’ve always had a natural ability for voice modification and accent work. So i put it at like a 5/10 on the intensity scale for the whole time we were on the call. Jockrs didn’t fare as well. Obviously it’s a little harder to go from Aussie to Cali than my more neutral “trans-atlantic” mess. One thing i'd like to overcome in this whole process is the Irony poisoning. I spent so much of my life as a Snarky sarcastic dweeb. So much of my life being “Ironic” and joking about without taking things to the genuine core of me. So even this task it’s difficult to get started because in the first couple minutes you’ve got that awkward Irony block for doing something that feels affected. It was such a fun experience tho. After a while the voice just flows through you and it is such a flowey, breathy voice. So fluid and easy.

5.

Rather than describe every BtG episode I'm going to focus on different things that I love and how this show absolutely scratches some old fantasies from my days as a dumb teenager in the musclegrowth kink community. Episode 3 where Baki is placed in a normal high school athletics test, and because of his sheer strength and inhuman physique is completely out of bounds and therefore almost flunks. Absolute Muscle RP fuel. Add to that all the gore and viscera in the other scenes. It’s very itch scratchy and possibly kink forming if you’ve got the abyss already bubbling away.

6.

I am a glutton for punishment and I made an extra task for myself in each of the sets. I did this by drawing tarot cards. Letting the universe speak to me to guide my journey. For this set I drew a Wheel of fortune which talks about fortunate initiative, spontaneity, random success, equality of souls.

And i translated that to "Take more chances with guys in the gym" I hopped on this one quick too. 

I had to kinda work myself up for it but this really chill seeming asian dude with nice curly hair who has legit been at the gym the same time as me for i'd wager 80% of my workouts.

He was just resting and I asked his name and stuff complimented him and asked his goals.

His name is Adrian, he used to do a lot of sport and was focused on strength gains back in high school, but now he's in uni and is more focused on just looking good.

He goes to my school but does law and commerce so unlikely we'll ever share a class or even be there at the same time.

He asked some of my stuff yada yada.

And he kept saying super low under his voice like "you're so huge dude. So huge"

And then when he was leaving he came and said goodbye. It seems small, I know but it’s a big achievement for me every time I make a gymbro. It’s hard making friends in this country.

[umichenginabroad]

Week 2: Getting Intense(ive)

Howdy y'all, it's me Connor back after, quite frankly, an exhausting week of classes. When I learned I was going to be taking class here I thought I would be taking ✨Classes✨ but in reality I am going to the library most days. That being said I don't think I have ever been more interested in what I am learning than I am right now.

This is a picture of me and my dorm-mates walking to our first class together.

Intro to Japanese has been nothing but spectacular. Although the class is moving a bit slower I have chances everyday to practice what I learn so I am getting quite confident in my abilities. Also the teachers are so nice and helpful in class even though they do not speak almost any English.

In the afternoons we have Automotive Engineering class, now these are the tough ones. Having a 4 hour lecture every afternoon is not for the weak. What is entertaining though is the people the University bring in to special lectures. We have met employees from Nissan, Toyota, Mitsubishi and more. All of them gave given us amazing lectures on the future plans for these companies and what to expect if we ever end up working there. All of the lectures have been passionate to a point I have never experienced in the United States, everyone truly seems to love what they are doing and it makes the class so much more fun.

With about 5-6 hours of lecture a day I will at least concede the point that the amount of homework we have is light, often only a one page reflection on the information e learned, which is quite nice as I often find myself exploring in the afternoon/night with friends.

Another huge upside of this school is the cafeteria, the food is absolutely wonderful and dirt cheap:

Two of the lunches I've had. On the left a spicy miso ramen and I do not quite remember what the ride noodle bowl was called but it was equally delicious. Both of these cost me about $3 USD and they were amazing.

This first week we also had special tours of a number of different research labs here at Nagoya University.

These are two concept cars designed and created within the university. On the left you can see a small Toyota fitted with lidar and camera sensors, this is one of the universities forefront autonomously driven vehicles. On the right is a built from scratch "Slocal' (A slow locally driven vehicle which often gives verbal directions to the driver) vehicle which has the primary purpose of helping the elderly get around safely.

In addition to the research cars they have multiple highly technical driving simulators used for the research. These things are crazy big and so cool. I was even able to drive in one of them for a short while and the amount of modifications that are available via. software editing is ridiculous.

That was about it in terms of the technical knowledge and class stuff for this week so now we get to FOOD REVIEWS!!!!! <3

After being in Japan for over a week at this point I still had yet to have sushi so me and my roommates went and found this little hole in the wall place.

You can see me and my friends sitting at the bar on the left and the finished food spread on the right. We were the only ones in here for dinner which made sense as the sign outside only said すし which just translates to sushi (So still don't know the name of this place). We had an amazing time and the food was great and we even talked to the chef a bit in Japanese.

Around midweek I was craving something super spicy, and my girlfriend Olivia recommended me aa curry chain before I left called Coco Ichiban so we tried it out

This is the spread of each of our orders. Mine is in the bottom left (The one that is several shades darker than the others) I did not understand how the spice level system worked here and ordered a level 8. It turned out that meant it was about 24 times spicier than level 1. My spice cravings were definitely satisfied and then some. Still we had an amazing dinner and I do want to go back to try the level 10.

The next spot also came recommended from Olivia and it was a cream puff spot called Beard Papa.

This is a photo of all of their types of cream puffs. I got three different kinds: vanilla, peach, and green tea filling all with the original pastry. They were rich, decadent, and sweet; Everything you could want in a cream puff. (My favorite was the peach)

Lastly I did just a little bit of sightseeing towards the end of the week.

This is me at a Chunichi Dragons baseball game. Baseball is huge in Japan and this is the local Nagoya team. This night they won 1-0 against the Hiroshima Carp. The energy was super high the entire game, fans constantly cheering, music playing, it was so much fun. (I ended up buying a jersey because the starting pitcher did so well).

I have felt so much more comfortable in my surroundings this week and cannot wait to keep learning about and exploring this amazing country.

Until next time, さようなら, また 来週

Connor Gilfillan

Mechanical Engineering

NUSIP Automotive Engineering in Nagoya, Japan

[jojoturnip]

Maybe what I needed you to understand was the love I had for him.

The love I still have.

I've been making a timeline of my life in therapy. It's split between good memories on top and bad ones on bottom. There's so much bad, that much you were willing to accept, but there is a lot of good, too.

Sometimes it's the good that keeps me up at night more than anything.

A younger me runs around our old apartment carrying the wand he hand-carved me from cherry wood ("all purpose, good for a young girl to learn all sorts of magic on"). I asked him to keep a crystal point off the top unlike the other wands he made because I liked to wave around, and I was afraid I'd hurt something I had a sharp tip. Besides, I loved that wand so much I kept it under my shirt, at the ready for playing pretend any chance I got. I'd have scratched myself to hell and back if he had added a point. He put a piece of polished, smooth citrine on the other end of it so I could at least channel some energy.

Citrine was my favorite stone. Because it was yellow. Because I loved the color yellow. Because it meant happiness and joy and sunshine. Because that's who I was.

He wrote me a song once, before he even got with my mom officially. He named it, "Sunshine Girl." My mom recorded me singing to myself in the mirror as I blow-dried my hair once and sent it to him as he wrote it. I was so embarrassed.

He would pick me up from school a lot, and I loved that part of my day. My elementary school got out earlier than my sister's middle school, so it meant riding around with him and getting fast food while we waited. He would teach me about music on the radio, tell me my voice was much prettier than Melissa's, and listen to all the drama I would bring home from my day.

When he went to auctioneering school, we practiced the tongue twisters together in the living room, laughing about Betty and her butter batter. He graduated as the valedictorian of his class. I cheered him on from the audience.

He taught me to shoot a bow, adjusted my draw weights and sights, cut me grips from his leather scraps, and fixed up the old long bow when I snapped it from pulling it too far. His hands over my shoulders as he taught me how to stand, over my three fingers as he taught me to aim. He made a quiver with me by hand with buffalo rawhide and sheep leather and sinew. He brought home horse hair for fringe but I was too freaked out to add it. He made the fringe from leather and pony beads instead.

The wand and the quiver and a locker we painted together and so many more things he gave me, made for me are sitting in that storage unit I'm supposed to empty. I don't know how to face them all.

I love him. I miss him. I think that's what you'll never be able to understand.

You didn't want to understand.

I have to juggle what he did, how he hurt me, with how he loved me.

We can call it grooming or gaining my trust or a false childhood built in manipulation, but that doesn't change the fact that it was my childhood. My reality. What I know love to be.

You said you couldn't handle cognitive dissonance. Can't you see I was born from it, bred from it, grown and germinated from its hard and rocky substrate?

A friend told me she thinks I drove you insane. The way I hold and stitch these contradictive truths together. I think that's the most reasonable explanation I've heard so far.

A part of me wants to apologize here. I am sorry that my life was too much for you to bear. That it scared you to see me go back to my family, to love people who hurt me time and time again. I know that must've been hard. I do understand where you are coming from.

Another part of me knows that I never asked for you to take that problem as your own. I never asked you to deal with my parents. I never asked you to save me. I didn't want that. I just wanted someones shoulder to lean and crash on while I carried the burden myself.

Instead, you told me that it was too much for you.

Instead, I supported you through every goddamn second of you refusing to take care of yourself. How was that not too much? You had the option to change. I cannot change my memories, my childhood.

You ask me to lose my family but you cannot get new parents like you can a boyfriend.

You like to compare my situation with you and your ex, a fool's comparison. Your abuser did not raise you. You keep your life when you walk away. You were not made of a boyfriend you met in college. Our situations are different. Our lives are different.

We are different. You never seemed to get that.

My life is tainted. I can't look through rose colored glasses, the stain remains. But I can't get rid of the memories either, or cast them out in distaste. They are a part of me. They are what made me.

I think I needed you to see that.

Remember a week before you broke up with me, you called asking for the explicit details of quite possibly the worst events of my life. Things I can't write about, much less talk about. You said you wouldn't be able to understand me without knowing.

You left me crying on the phone. It was never about understanding.

It took me one and a half years to tell you the bad stuff. It was harder to tell you the good, you know. It's all racing around, conflicting inside of me, too. But if you wanted to understand me, know me like a partner should, it required knowing the good. Seeing me, and how I am built of cognitive dissonance. Seeing the power that it gives me in empathizing with you and others, and the pain that it gives me, too. My existence is a fragile thing.

They were not excuses. They were glimpses into my mind. Into what I go through every single day.

When I let you in, you only wanted to see the bad. But you have to see the good, too. The gut wrenching good that bleeds out of me in yellow. The citrine stones and bamboo arrows and rainbow cheesecakes and Annie lockets.

I'm a storyteller, and I wanted you to know my story. You only wanted to hear a parroted version of your own sung back at you.

I am not you. I never will be.

[sunnyie-eve]

11 | Unlike You

Series: A Zombie's Serenity 

Paring: Zed Necrodopolis x OFC Buchanan!

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Might be a few mistakes, and I'm using Brenna D'Amico as how the OC's looks

| MASTERLIST |

~~~

"Zed, wait." I catch him outside in the hall. 

"I lost the election." He turns to me as I walk up to him. 

"I know." I sigh as Eliza comes out. "Look, but the problem is you lost yourself first." She looks at his poster next to us before walking away. 

"Look at me." I grab his chin turning his head away from the poster, "You were great in there and you did win over everyone before this little thing messed you up." I hand the necklace over to him so he can give it back to Addison. "I understand you're reason because being a monster isn't easy with all the obstacles you have to over come in life. I get you want to protect us from that but it's not exactly your choice to make. For her or me, if I wanted to see if I really was a werewolf. You know better and you aren't someone to stop people you care about from achieving something important to them."

"I know... And now they will always see me as a monster." He shakes his head. 

"Well you're Zed Necrodopolis. A 16 year old zombie from Zombietown which makes you a monster... but you're a very sweet, confident, headstrong monster. Who is also very loyal to his friends and will do anything for them. A monster who always stands up for what's right and is compassionate, but also can be impulsive at times." I rub his arm before letting him be.

I join Eliza as she stares at one of Zed's posters, "I really hope I don't have to do the whole but you are a monster speech to Zed after this." I look at the poster before taking it off the wall. 

"Really?" She chuckles as I crumble the poster. 

"I hate when he tries to be someone he's not. Like I told him, I fell for a zombie not someone normal." I look at her. "I swear sometimes he doesn't deserve someone like you. The type of person you are... you always put others before you and will tell them how important or special they are, but then tell yourself you're nothing." She makes me smile, "Because I can see and understand others better than myself. I look into a mirror and sometimes it's like I see nothing." I explain tearing up.

"You wanna know what I see and have to say?" She takes my hands into hers, "I see the first human, who all her life only heard and was taught bad things about zombies, but never believed a single word. After meeting a zombie on the first day of school, you snuck out of class to go apologize for your brother being a jerk. The first person to interact and befriended zombies when no one else wanted to because we were still hated by them. Not to mention you went against people telling you to stay away, and not listening you fell for a Zombie. You a Human who developed feelings for a Zombie. And you changed that zombie's life. You got me to like you very quickly and accept you once I saw who you really were. I see you as someone who can make peoples lives better. You bring out the best in others and make people feel welcomed. So next time you look in the mirror and feel like you see nothing... remember everything I told you. You may think you're nothing but you're something to others."

As I give her a hug the alarm goes off confusing us, "Attention! Attention! Monster activity at Seabrook Power." It announces. 

"It's the werewolves. We need to find Addison." We rush off to find her and we run into each other. 

"We need to rally everyone up to go help." Addison and I say at the same time so Addison goes to get some cheerleaders, I go with Eliza to get some zombies. Once we have everyone we could get we all head to Seabrook Power together. When we get there we see the werewolves were arrested. "No!" We yell at them.

"The world has gone crazy and no one seems to listen. Gotta step in, no more maybes, and stop the demolition." Addison steps up. 

"Is it hope or fear? Look in the mirror. Everything we built is coming down." I tell them. 

"No more hesitation, it's time we start to realize. With all this separation, silence is still taking sides." Eliza steps out with the zombies. 

"So use your voice, make a choice. And tell me, are you standing with the crowd?" I join her then we all join together.

Oh-oh-oh-oh This is a declaration Oh-oh-oh-oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone

Ayy, ayy, ayy-ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy-ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us Ayy, ayy, ayy-ayy We say no more bad blood, no more bad blood Ayy, ayy, ayy-ayy No way, they can't stop us, no, they can't stop us

"History changes, but we lost the pages we wrote. When you lose direction, can't see the reflection you know. We came from the bottom then became the problem. Now everything's out of control. So hey, are you with me? Let's go." Zed shows up and joins us.

Oh-oh-oh-oh This is a declaration Oh-oh-oh-oh Of a new generation It's now or never, we're in this together We'll fight through the highs and the lows No, we won't break, we're more than flesh and bone

"You gotta stop the demolition, Dad. I know how hard you worked to get this job. But if it's gonna hurt the werewolves, you have to stop it." Zed walks up to his dad. 

"You're right. And the girls are right. Shut it down. Stop the detonation. Tomorrow, when it's safe, we'll find what you're looking for. But right now, you can all go home." Zevon agrees making us all cheer. 

"You're right..." Zed walks up to me as I walk with Eliza. 

"About what?" I stop but she leaves us alone. 

"Everything you said in the hall. I know I'm a monster and there's nothing wrong with that. I don't think you'll have to give me any more speeches." He makes me wrap my arms around his neck to hug him so he picks me up.

"Hey, we did it, we stopped the demo." Addison walks up to us with Bree, smiling. Zed put me down and I give him a look and he knew what I meant. "What's wrong?" Addison asks him so he pulls out the necklace. 

She gets excited thinking he found it but he tells her the truth. "I stole it when you weren't looking." 

She starts to get upset, "I thought I lost it. I questioned myself." She raises her voice while he apologizes. 

"I was afraid that if you, even Serenity, turned into a wolf, I'd lose you both." He tells her. 

"You don't get to make that choice for me! And you knew he took it and didn't care to tell me!" She shouts at us.

"Hey, when I saw it I was disappointed in him. You're right it's not his choice and he knows that now. But I get his reasoning, sorta... We have no clue how hard it is being a monster and what they had and have to go though. So the thought of just jumping in without a care in the world is dumb if you don't think about what we might have to deal with." I explain to her. 

"I finally find where I belong, and you would let him steal that from me? What kind of cousin and friend are you both? I even thought you felt like you belonged." She gets louder. 

"If I wanted him to steal that from you, I wouldn't have told him he knows better. I wouldn't have gave him a small speech about how it was wrong of him." I raise my voice now.

"And I never once felt like I was a werewolf and I let Wyatt know multiple times. I let Willa know when I returned the necklace they gave me. I can sorta say I felt like I belonged but not in the same way as you think. Like I saw new friends that make me wanna be me more and more confident. The only reason any of them thought l was a werewolf was because of my hair but to me it has no meaning. I was just born different compared to you and Bucky and I'm fine with that. Unlike you being so obsessed with your hair and wanting it to mean something important. You can't live with the thought that it has no special meaning. You constantly whine about not feeling like you belong, not having your own little pack, when you have so many people who care and love you for who you are. You're little pack/crew you want to be apart of so badly is literally a mixture of humans, zombies and now werewolves."

She just glares at me when I was done, "You're saying a lot about me when you yourself said you don't know who you are... you can't see yourself or understand yourself. You say you're nothing but then say you're okay with not being something... so what is it? Oh, I know... it's the constant reminder in your head telling you, grandma said I'm more special. You hate the fact that you don't know why she said that. So you have no choice but to see yourself as nothing and pretend you're okay with that. At least I know I'm something and I'm trying to find what I am unlike you, cuz." She turns away then puts on the necklace.

It lights up but when she turns back to face everyone she was still the same Addison. "Am I?" She asks Bree. 

"You're beautiful, Addie, but the same beautiful that you've always been." She tells her. 

"Looks like you gotta keep trying, cuz." I let out a scoff and we all were in a awkward silence. 

"Oh, my gosh, boss, boss! We got a problem." One of the workers run to Zevon and says the detonation started running again and wouldn't shut off. 

We all run towards Seabrook Power just to see it get destroyed. All the wolves start to cough as their necklaces lose more if it's charge. "It's gonna be okay... We'll figure this out." I walk over to them. 

"The building is gone, Serenity." Wyatt tells me. 

"But the stone is still standing... your moonstones haven't fully lost all its charge yet. I'm sure if the stone was crushed..." I look at them. 

"You could be right." Willa looks at me.

[supercantaloupe]

You said you're in grad school for musicology once, right? I'm curious as to what that's like and how you got there, since I wanted to major in something like musicology or music history for my undergrad but there's almost no programs for either on an undergrad level in my area (Except for one school) and I'm kinda loathing the idea of doing another 4 years of performance but I'm willing to do it as a means to an end (please disregard this ask if I was wrong abt your major btw )

under the cut for long answer ⬇

i think i understand where you're coming from. there were a lot of factors that went into where i chose to attend for undergrad but a chief factor among them was i wanted a liberal arts college with a music school, NOT a conservatory, because i knew if i put myself in the environment of a conservatory and spent 100% of my time working for performance i would burnout and quit. i wanted a school where i could balance music and other studies, which was important to me because when i started college i actually didn't know if i wanted to major in music. i started out as a music major but that was almost a placeholder at the beginning; i didn't know what ELSE i would study, but i figured it would start out in this music thing and i could switch majors later if i wanted. it turns out i didn't want to switch, and i ended up graduating four years later with a music degree, and 99% of the time i don't regret it. (the 1% is my standard built-in neurosis that makes me doubt everything i do all the time. it's whatever.)

but i will also add that i have a bachelor of arts, not a bachelor of music. so my BA program, while definitely music-forward (especially in my junior and senior years), was not quite as intense music wise as as a BM; i wasn't required to take private instrument lessons after three years, i wasn't required to do a junior or senior recital, i wasn't required to play in a major ensemble for all four years. (some of these things i did anyway for various other reasons, but they weren't required to graduate.) and i had more liberal arts (non-music) gen ed requirements to fulfill.

one other thing i'll mention is that even within the BA music program there were different concentrations/tracks. i was actually no emphasis/general, while i think every other BA music student in my year was performance emphasis. so me doing the general/no emphasis concentration within BA music changed some of my requirements as well (the performance emphasis track i think required that senior recital as well as some extra ear training classes i skipped). in hindsight if i could go back and change anything about my undergrad degree, i would go back and do BA music with a music history and literature emphasis, and/or pick up a music theory minor, but neither of these options were made known to me until it was too late to fulfill the requirements before graduation. so it goes. (i'm not even totally sure if these programs still exist given the current state of my university's music school but i digress.)

anyway, i went into undergrad not knowing what i wanted to do, even if i wanted to stick with music as a degree in the first place, and i came out the other end enrolled in grad school for musicology. i'll say that it took me until like. junior year to have a clue what musicology as a graduate program is, and it wasn't until my senior year that i actually realized it's what i wanted to pursue (and that there are ways to apply a background in musicology without necessarily becoming a full time researcher or professor, which is not my goal). i'm actually not just studying musicology right now, i'm in a dual degree program for musicology and library science, on paper i'm studying music librarianship but in effect i'm doing a lot more than just that. the musicology stuff is what i'm especially passionate about (especially history and public musicology) but the library science stuff brings with it a lot of practical skills that i think will be useful once i'm done with this whole school thing. plus my dual degree program doesn't require a thesis, so, win.

since i'm only halfway through my first semester of what will most likely be a three year program, it's hard to say so far anything actionable about musicology as a grad program. for one thing my school is kind of....struggling, in a lot of ways, and musicology as a graduate program area is actually shut down now; music history and theory courses will still exist, of course, because students in other programs still need to take them too, but there will be no more musicology masters or phd students after me, which is more than a bit of a bummer, tbh. and we were a small program in a small school to begin with. at any rate, i've been enjoying my musicology classes so far, with the exception of my analytical techniques class which is the most mind numbingly boring weekly three hour lecture i've ever had to suffer through (why does it take ninety whole minutes to explain what an imitation mass is?? come on). but course offerings and program requirements vary from school to school.

now i don't have a clue what your options or limitations are when it comes to picking a college. i had my own list and i ended up pretty happy with my choice in the end, but no doubt we have different lists. knowing that, i guess if i had to give you some actionable advice, it'd be this:

it's okay to go in undecided and pick a major later, or to start with one major and change it. undergrad is the time for you to figure out what you want to do with your life and career, and you find that out by trying stuff out.

so i suppose my next point of advice is "try stuff out." even if it seems wacky. i did one semester of composition lessons. taught me that i am Not a composer, lol. but if something seems interesting and the opportunity is there, i recommend taking it. by senior year i'd figured out that i loved music history but i'd already completed all the undergrad course offerings in the subject, so they let me into one of the grad classes. in the end that actually helped me get accepted into my master's program now.

don't limit your search for schools that have a major specifically in "music history" or "musicology," especially in undergrad. maybe a couple of schools will have one, but that's pretty specific for a bachelor's degree. but while every school is different in how they structure their degree programs, i'm willing to bet a lot of them offer a similar emphasis/concentration system like mine did, and/or minors. poke around on the websites of schools that interest you, or contact someone in the department who works there via email (there's almost always a contact listed for the department heads and/or dean of enrollment), try to see if any of them have concentrations in what you're interested in if not a highly specific major.

but also, if this is what you really want to study and there are truly no schools that offer programs that you like nearby, you may have to consider the possibility of expanding your search radius. i got lucky with the fact that the school i liked best was close to home, which was important to me. but there are schools with programs that are just as good if not better halfway across the country (and i did consider them when it came time for grad school). basically, start with a large list of potential options first, you can narrow them down later as you go along with the process of college searching. it's a big decision, so you should take your time with it.

if you're not totally set on doing four years of performance, i don't recommend trying to do that as a means to an end. that path leads quickly to burnout if you aren't careful. even if "BM [instrument] performance" sounds more prestigious on paper than "BA music", in the end it doesn't actually make much of a difference. if you decide halfway through undergrad you want to switch to performance, you can, talk to your advisor about it. if you decide after graduating you want to focus on performance, you can do a DMA program somewhere for grad school. hell, there's no shame even in starting out as BM performance and then switching to BA music or something completely different later. keep your options open, but i don't recommend trying to pigeonhole yourself just yet, especially with something that's just a "means to an end." for me, the bottom line with playing music is that i enjoy doing it, and while getting play alongside or as a portion of my education was important to me, if it was the only thing i would've quit years ago, which is not a thought i like to think about.

[starseneyes]

Goodbye Cheryl Anne Marek 1984-2023

If you've been around for a while, you've probably seen me talk about my dear friend Cheryl in my Metas. Well, this morning, she lost her fight with cancer after a 5 year battle.

Under the cut is what I wrote on other Socials to remember her... not by how she died, but how she lived.

CHERYL UPDATE: At 1AM, my beautiful friend left this mortal plane.

I've had so much time to prepare, you'd think I'd be impenetrable, but I admit I'm aching knowing she's gone.

For 5 years, she battled terminal cancer. But I want to share a few memories of how she lived.

Cheryl and I met when we were 11. Gifted kids, both of us. We shared most our Middle School classes.

Middle School was an adventure that we all survived together. Cheryl and I were always friends, even if I don't think either of us would have considered each other a best friend at that point.

We shared a lot of the same friends, so it was natural we hung out together.

By high school, we were both in the chorus. I tried track Freshman year, but there was a snag.

Despite Mom working 18hr days as a film/tv hair & makeup artist, she couldn't afford to give me money for dinner out after track meets.

I babysat, but couldn't earn fast enough.

When I told Cheryl why I had to quit, she offered to pay for my dinners the rest of the year.

It was $7 once a week to Sonic, but to me it was an overwhelmingly kind gift. I wanted to turn it down, but something in me said to accept.

That was Cheryl's first gift.

After Sophomore year, I moved to Virginia. We didn't see each other for nearly a decade until she moved to Virginia—a half hour from me.

We started hanging out, again. Cheryl wanted to do a Fun Run, but I was strapped for cash. She gifted it to me. Another gift.

I had three kids, and when the Littlest was not even a year, I was laid off. I built my freelance career bit by bit, but that first year was tough.

Cheryl saw the strain and took me for dollar tacos every Wednesday. Sometimes the baby joined and flirted with other tables.

I hosted chili cook-offs and game nights, and lots of other fun over the next few years.

Cheryl was diagnosed with esophageal cancer and given 2% odds of living a year.

She missed her commissioning as a Civil Engineer in the military by three weeks. Her Cancer battle began.

The short version is that she beat it… then was diagnosed, again, then beat it, again.

We saw each other as much as her schedule of treatments and trips allowed. You see, Cheryl didn't let Cancer stop her.

She went skiing, ice climbing, adventuring, and built memories.

Cheryl came on a camping trip with me that Matt couldn't make. We had SO much fun… until my Eldest nearly knocked out 4 teeth.

As I sped down the mountain she made calls. When asked how long we'd be, she said, "It won't take long. Rachel's driving like a bat outta hell".

We tried an RV trip together, once (LONG story), and the kids had a marvelous time out on the water with Aunt Cheryl.

One of the last good times before Cancer came back a third time. And still, as she was fighting to finish her Doctorate (she did) and finding ways to help those she loved.

The biggest gift Cheryl gave me was a friend who understood me. She got me. And I got her.

Talking to Cheryl, she understood my drive. My passion. How I'd forget to take care of myself while taking care of others.

Because she was the same way. We were two of a kind.

Our last text exchange was one of gratitude and love. I only hope with all that Cheryl gave me, I gave her something precious in return. Because, golly, I loved her.

Rest in peace, Cheryl Anne Marek. Your fight is over. Your legacy will live on. And I will always love you.

[ikatako38]

Hi

It’s… been a while. It’s long past time for (another) candid update about the future of TPWCH.

TL;DR: While I am grateful for everyone’s patience and understanding, I am very frustrated with myself about my upload schedule. On top of everything else, a recent, very difficult breakup is making it hard for me to find motivation for anything. That being said, I am still slowly working on Chapter #22.5 - 3, and the 2nd Anniversary Art.

Since this time last year, I’ve only uploaded 2/3 of a chapter of the main story. While my readers have been nothing but patient and understanding, for me personally that’s… soul-crushing.

I could speculate on and on about why that is. More irl friendships and relationships to juggle. Classes getting harder. Spending the entire school year giving my all into a relationship I rarely got anything back from. Worsening ADHD symptoms. An awkward class schedule.

I think in some ways, I had less need for the fic, too. I had friends to talk to about my feelings. I felt less lonely. I didn’t need the escape so desperately as I did last year. Or maybe the better reason is that the dark turn of the fic after the end of Part 2 meant that it was no longer a comforting place to escape to. I think that’s a big reason why I leaned so much into happier stories like the End-of-Part-2 Specials and Squidmas Special. While I genuinely consider Part 3 the most interesting part of the fic, the one which from the very beginning I was most excited to write, it’s hard to actively choose to spend so much time in such a dreary place. Especially when I could just mindlessly scroll through TikTok for a few hours instead.

Perhaps I’m being too hard on myself. Realistically, I wrote all of Part 1 and half of Part 2 while I was still a high-school senior with a half day. While of course I knew that college is hard, I just never expected it to be so time-consuming (hashtag gifted-kid burnout lol). Anniversary special and end-of-part-two special took about two months each. Squidmas special was another month. I spent a month on an art trade that was supposed to provide some content I was really excited to share with you all, but the trade never got returned. Those things add up. I can at least take solace in the fact that those who are most invested in the fic can reach me at any time through Tumblr asks and the Discord server (which, by the way, you should join if you haven’t already! Thing is, I haven’t really been receiving anything expressing interest in the fic or upload schedule, so I guess I can only assume I’m not really letting anyone down.

So… what now?

As if that wasn’t enough fun news, I just went through an extremely difficult breakup. We were very close, but it this person was and is extremely manipulative, so while I certainly feel betrayed, I mostly feel intense guilt and regret. I’m experiencing insomnia like I’ve never experienced before, and although I’m past the crying phase it’s very hard to find the motivation to do anything, especially something like writing that requires concentration without constant stimulation. On the bright side, I can tentatively say I’ve found some new meds that might actually help

I’m still working on the 2nd Anniversary art. I’m still working on Chapter #22 - 3. Just… slowly. On the other hand, I’m indefinitely pausing all crossposting so I can better focus on moving the story forward. I’ve taken down the content schedule; I kind of doubt that anyone is looking at it anyway.

I am eternally grateful for the community that’s built around the fic, and everything that the community has done to support the fic, especially near the beginning. That being said, it’s hard to overstate how discouraging it is to grapple with myself for months to finally get a new piece of the story out, only to be met with… pure silence. I know it’s my own fault for being inconsistent, but it also just kinda makes me wonder whether people are even reading what I write and seeing what I draw. That’s what motivates me, and the reason I post online is in the hopes that I’ll be able to find more motivation to work on my hobbies! Unfortunately right now, I’m stuck in a cycle of less content → less feedback → less content. I was hoping reposting on FFN and Wattpad would help break that cycle, but it just ended up adding more stress and distractions from what I really wanted to work on.

I’m also starting up a secret personal project, which will take up some of my time. I’m not sure it’ll ever be published, but it’ll hopefully help me work through some things that have been going on in my life.

Current Progress

I’ve known since the beginning that the majority of Chapter #22 wasn’t going to be exactly fun for reasons that are probably obvious, but I’m genuinely really excited to share Chapter #22 - 3 with everyone! I think you’ll really like it! It basically becomes a montage of the first few weeks in the Metro, flipping between Eight completing tests, and the memories he recovers. Those memories are going to drop a ton of lore about the Octarian Domes and Eight’s life before the Metro. That also means a couple new side characters will be introduced!

The chapter is currently sitting at around 2100 words, and it’ll likely end up somewhere around 5000. I’ll release another sneak peek next Monday! Beyond that, I can’t guarantee much. It took me almost a whole week just to write this… 🥲

But I’m not giving up hope, and hopefully I can have some more content out to you all soon! Thank you all for being the best reader community I could ask for!

[not-so-rosyyy]

I maintain the girl boss decade has ruined us! The grind and hustle girl boss culture! It’s warped so many young girls head. Also, so many project on to Zendaya. To them her girl boss and it girl status that they fight tooth and nail for on stan twitter is to make themselves better. They take her career wins as their own cause they’ve been following her since Shake It Up. And then in turn her personal life and partner. They need to let the girl live and find their own lives outside of her.

i’m a zillennial like Zendaya is and i’m part of the generation of girls nearly ruined by that mindset. i grew up with society and the media telling me the only kind of feminism i need to know and practice is one produced by capitalism. pre-teen me was taught i only had two choices when i get older: a career or a family, and obviously, there’s only one correct answer. because according to them, women who become homemakers by choice are stupid and weak and is “setting back” the feminist agenda by centuries, failing to recognize and factor in a woman's different facets and needs and agency.

i’m lucky i caught myself before falling deep into that mentality, though. maybe because i learned to look for how i define being a woman thru the different women in my life. my mom who single-handedly raised me since I was 5. my traditional housewife aunt in a traditional patriarchal household. a close friend who got pregnant at 17 and went to class everyday refusing to keep her head down while walking the hallways with her portruding belly. my middle-aged high school English teacher who told me one time that she didn’t need men but swiftly fell in love and got married with my History teacher who she’s been friends with forever. my first bisexual friend who patiently explained to me stuff about gender and sexual identities because i hadn't a clue about it. my first boss after graduation who grew up in poverty, didn't see herself getting married but ultimately did at 30 and slowly built her business with her husband till they became multi-millionaires at the age of 43.

essentially what i'm saying is there's still hope for young women to shake off this harmful grind, hustle, girlboss mindset. that yes, celebrities and public figures like Zendaya can be a touchpoint of what kind of women they would want to be in the future. but there are also not-so-average ladies in their own lives who can very well widen their view of what strength and success for a woman truly is. just look around and really look at them like i did. :))