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vhstown · 1 year ago

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ain't no love; pt. 1

"ain't no love in the heart of the city"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SUMMARY: Miles Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 PART 1 / PART 2 →

chapter summary: [READER POV] The one day you decide to skip breakfast, your deskmate comes in. AP Calc has never been more unbearable — and interesting.

content/warnings: brief mentions of death, depictions of hunger, a little bullying </3

word count: 4.8k

a/n: first series idk what im doing BUT WE ROLL (criticisms accepted lmao) proofread courtesy of @qiuweyballs you're a real one

You were starving. In AP Calc, no less, with probably the least talkative bunch of students in the whole school, the period before lunch. Whoever made your schedule was a monster, and whoever put this class together was even more of a monster. Everyone was dead silent, which was usually fine, but not when your stomach was threatening to detonate a nuclear grumble. Maybe it’d even echo given how big the classroom was. It was too early in the year to have a mental breakdown, though — you’d save that for midterms.

Even the teacher found the silence awkward, muttering to himself as you walked into the dreary classroom. He was a bit of a pushover, Mr. Wellston — a newbie who really had no idea what he was doing besides fixing his unevenly cut hair every two seconds while everyone pretended to know what was going on. God bless AP Calculus; you didn’t even know how to do the starter activity on the board.

But your teacher’s ridiculous inadequacy didn’t matter right now. The most important decision you had to make was what poor soul you were going to look at sideways when everyone turned to the source of the growl. Being nice wasn’t exactly an option when you were 3 seconds away from dying of starvation.

Thankfully, you were at the back, and the only seat next to you was empty. It wasn’t so bad, you tried convincing yourself as other students started to fill up the seats in front of you. Maybe you'd even forget about how hungry you were if you engrossed yourself in "one of the most riveting fields of mathematics", as advertised by your freshman year math teacher. Just one hour. You could hold back your hunger for one hour.

"Attendance..." Wellston murmured, looking around the room without much attention. It was reasonable to assume was here as usual, except for one kid who'd been absent since the first week. "Morales" — you didn't know his first name, not like you had the chance to learn it.

Scribbling down whatever activity there was, a part of you was glad this kid wasn't here today. It was one less person to hear the result of your unfortunate choice to not have breakfast this morning. You'd never spoken to the kid, but everyone knew why he wasn’t here. The renowed "hero", PC Davis had passed away — his dad. It was all over the news: "PDNY OFFICER DIES SAVING A CHILD", around mid-freshman year. You couldn't guess what was going on with the kid almost 2 whole semesters into sophomore year, but you couldn’t exactly think too hard when your pen had barely touched the page, and your other hand was clawing into the side of your shirt.

You were sure your stomach was going to growl, and loud. And your teacher was looking at you. Pretty much every muscle in your face was straining. You probably looked insane, which you’d actually rather be right now. The worst he would make was a bad joke, but the sheer panic that rose in your chest when Mr. Wellston started to walk towards you made your heels dig into the ground, ready to bolt out the class. You were exhausted, anxious, praying to anything you could think of that your teacher would just turn around and stop looking at you and—

Creak... Everyone's eyes, including Mr. Wellston's, turned to the door. You could make out someone with a black jacket — teacher? They wouldn’t let you wear jackets inside. Not important. Water.

"Nice seeing you here, Morales," Wellston said, his expression as unamused as he could attempt. The pushover was feeling confident today.

You drank so much water that it got stuck in your throat for a moment, making you scrunch up your face. "I'd take off that jacket if I were you,” Wellston continued.

The boy obliged with an incoherent mumble, stepping into the classroom and slipping off his jacket. His eyes landed on the seat right next to you. Even if he wasn't looking at you, something about his gaze made you look away immediately. Great. 53 minutes until lunch. Why did he have to show up today? Why did you wake up late and skip breakfast? A part of you was telling you it’d be better to not blame it on this guy either — maybe it was your gut. Ha-ha. Maybe you were insane.

Screeech! The slap of a notebook next to you snapped you out of your mini-spiral. You were now all the more aware of the boy next to you. His attendance was so low that it competed with your will to live, so you couldn’t help but look. His hair was in two braids slipping just past his collar, but that’s all you dared to notice. They were kind of cool, you admitted to yourself. The muttering was quickly shut down by a grating "Focus!" from Wellston, and you tried to get back to your work.

Calculus, calculus... When was the last time you’d gotten a question right? All you could do was keep uselessly pressing the fraction button on your calculator, watching the empty boxes stack up. It felt like he was staring at you. Math, come on, you know math. What was the probability he was looking at you? What if he was just glancing at you? What was his eye colour? Black or dark brown, probably. You could check — if he was staring, of course. Not his eye colour. That'd be weird.

That tight feeling built up in your stomach like the foreshock of an earthquake. You pictured yourself slamming your head into the desk, far too vividly to be normal — like an insane person. No need to traumatise the “new” kid on his first day back.

"Alright class, considering we have a full house now," You stopped yourself from imagining Wellston’s head slammed into a desk. "I suggest you all try to solve this problem. It's the hardest question that's ever come up on Calc BC, and you're getting secret access to it."

Yeah, like you cared. This man did not have a lesson plan, as usual. Now you had to fight the urge to look at the kind of cool kid next to you, fight your hunger like a famished Victorian child and fight the stupid calculations forming a jumbled mess in your brain. You were fighting a lot of things, and losing miserably. Just looking at the question made your brain hurt, and you could see it in the rest of your class too. All Calc BC nerds who were just now realising their mistake in taking this class with this particular teacher, probably. Visions was a scam.

"Does anyone have an answer?" It hadn't even been two minutes; it was like the man just wanted to feel smarter than everyone else. Something about him today was even more annoying than the pitiful jokes he usually came up with ― just because a "new" kid came in? Maybe this was to make up for the first day of class where he totally embarrassed himself mumbling all lesson, the bell ringing overtop of him.

The awkward silence and the slight cocky curl to the corner of Mr. Wellston's mouth made you question why they hired someone who was fresh out of college to teach you the classes that were supposed to get you into college. Your frustration only grew when you were going in circles with your attempt.

"No? Guys, you that you have a midterm soon." Helpful.

"This is more simple than you think." Explain it, then?

"Nobody? Really? Okay, you really should start paying attention, the―"

"Six." You almost forgot about the kid next to you until he spoke up. He put down his pen, giving Wellston an expectant look while the whole class was silent.

"…Six what?"

"Litres per hour."

The man quickly shuffled to his computer. Of course he didn't know the answer either.

"Six litres per hour," Wellston confirmed. No other kid had a chance to retort. Wellston seemed surprised for once. A part of you was surprised too at how simple the answer sounded when it came out of the "new" kid's mouth. You noticed that the boy didn't even have a calculator.

"Well, it looks like you all have something to learn from Morales here," he continued, something almost like contempt in his words. "Do you want to explain how you got that?"

The boy went about explaining it pretty simply, almost like he was reading off of a script. It was concise, different to what you'd learnt. Something about chain rule, which you truthfully had no idea how to actually use because someone didn't bother to go through it properly. Even if you were still somewhat unsure, it sounded easy enough.

"Interesting method..." Wellston murmured, trailing off for a moment. "Well, that settles it then. Do you guys understand how we got six?"

We? This guy... Aside from the fact that he was looking at you a little too much for comfort (probably because you were still clutching your stomach like you’d been shot) you had another reason to be annoyed by this teacher and his stupid hair. Everyone just returned his question with silent nods and mumbles, people taking opportunities to actually look at the calc-wiz.

You took a chance too, looking over at his seemingly unbothered face. You were almost right about the brown eyes. They were more coppery than anything, maybe even a little green. If he was staring before, you couldn't tell, his gaze trailing his desk with disinterest. Why did his eye colour even matter?

Forty minutes of class to go. You felt like you could eat your calculator at this point. The mystery kid didn't seem to need one anyway, and you weren’t getting much use out of it.

BRIIIIIIIIIING!

"The bell doesn't―" The screeching of chairs cut him off.

Like that would work this far into the semester. The Morales kid was already gone by the time you'd stood up. Letting out a drawn-out sigh, you debated between your tiredness and hunger. Would you try to fight to the death to get to the front of the lunch queue? All you wanted was food, maybe a nap afterwards, definitely no more calculus.

That couldn't happen, of course. For some reason, you were the only one left in class. You heard your name, wincing a little as you stopped in your journey out of the door.

"I just want to speak for a moment, spare me a few minutes?" You figured this was coming. It looked like he wanted to speak to you about something all class; his expressions weren’t exactly mysterious like that new kid. You wanted nothing more than to strangle him with his ugly patterned tie as you walked over to him.

Mr. Wellston leaned on his desk by his elbows, lowering his voice as if he was about to tell you something serious.

"You're not doing very well in this class." Okay… not that serious. "It’s the longer questions, I think. FRQs.”

Your grogginess made it impossible to focus on Wellston’s rant, but what you did pick up on was his weird accent. You guessed he wasn’t from Brooklyn, but the way he was talking right now let you pick up on the strange intonation in his voice you otherwise wouldn’t care to notice. Almost European-sounding. First that kid's eye colour and now your teacher's accent... what was it with you and random details today?

"So..." he continued, looking up at you with his head still low. "I'm going to start an extra class after school. I want you to come to it." Okay, this is worse. You couldn't have lunch, and now you couldn't even have after school.

"When is it?" It better not be some unreasonable time.

"Well, I've only got Friday afternoon free. You know how it is, meetings..." If he was trying to be apologetic, or convincing, he was failing at both. "I'll call you in later to discuss it further."

You just nodded, the grip on your backpack tightening. "Okay."

"It's important that you come!”

His voice was drowned out by the flood of students in the hall as you shut the door, turning on your heel to head to the cafeteria. The line was probably impossibly long by now. You couldn't care less about that extra Friday class. Forget college. You'd be a bum, or work at a WcDonalds. You'd probably make more money than Mr. Wellston there anyway. Forget Visions.

Forget that Morales kid who was standing outside the door all that time while you were too frustrated to notice.

You slumped down onto an empty table as you tried to rid your mind of him.

The probability that he'd show up to class with his cool braids and coppery-green eyes again was too low for you to care anyway.

"Soy Miles. Miles Morales."

Calc-wiz, or Miles as you just found out, was also in your Spanish class, and was also sitting directly behind you. It seemed like he was coming into more classes than he had been all semester — good for him?

"Morales… ¿Eres hispano, Miles?" (Are you Hispanic, Miles?) Miles simply nodded while Mrs Hernández flicked through the worksheets, licking her finger to set them down on individual desks. Spanish was one of the classes you actually liked. Apart from your classmates, Mrs Hernández was funny, and a good teacher, even if she was a little strict.

She paused for a moment to look at Miles again, eyebrow raised. "¿Guatemala?"

"Puerto Rico." The woman's raised eyebrow fell along with the rest of her expression, eyes narrowing in disappointment. She was always talking about where she was from, Guatemala. You found it kind of endearing, though you weren't sure if she'd get any teaching done if there was another kid from there.

"All these years y nadie de Guatemala..." (and nobody from Guatemala...) She simply frowned, cracking her knuckles while making her way back to the front. Most of the people taking AP Spanish were Hispanic, just trying to get extra credits, but it seemed like Mrs. Hernández was out of luck when it came to finding her natural favourite. "Vale clase, quiero que miren este articulo sobre―" (Okay class, I want you to look at this article about―)

All that class you felt like Miles was staring at the back of your head, of course. If he wasn't uncomfortably silent, he was conversing with Mrs Hernández, and she came over more than once to talk to him behind you. As much as you wanted to overhear, they were talking too quietly and quickly — and in Spanish. What they were talking about wasn't your business — most likely about his absence. You had also no idea what this article was talking about. It was something about art, but most of the words you were reading were unfamiliar as your highlighter hovered uselessly over the paper.

It had almost been a week since Miles first came in. You constantly saw him get pulled out of class or talking to teachers — except in AP Calc; it seemed like he was doing just fine there. He could speak Spanish fine too, but was behind on everything else. Other than teachers, he never really talked to anyone. You occasionally saw him with his earbuds on in the hallways, but more often his jacket was what got him chased down by teachers; the kid didn’t really seem to care. Good for him. He was probably more ahead of you anyway given the way your studies were going.

“Oye, look a little alive!” You noticed Mrs Hernandéz standing over you, and that your highlighter bleeding through the paper from pressing too long. A half-hearted “lo siento” (sorry) is all you could offer. “Extraño (strange) — What's different today, chicos? Is it because you’ve got a new friend here?” She crossed her arms, eyeing everyone with her brows knitted together.

The atmosphere around Miles was strange. Not only was he known for being missing since freshman year, but also for his late father. It wasn’t a secret, as much as he didn’t talk about it. Everyone could tell from the way teachers whispered to him and how he disappeared to the counsellor’s office that he wasn’t treated like any other student here. In fact, he didn’t even live in the dorms according to what you’d heard. He was quiet, but the rumours were undeniably loud. You tried not to involve yourself — you hadn’t even spoken to him yourself, anyway.

“He’s not the only Puerto Rican. You gonna forget about us, Señora?” The voice made you hold back a sigh. When Rafael started speaking there was no stopping him. You figured it was time; no matter how far he was moved from his friends, he always found a way to talk to them from the other side of the classroom. He was also right next to you. You had a few reasons to want to drop this class, and each of them were all going “yeah” in agreement to what Rafael had to say.

“I think you’ve forgotten that you have an article in front of you, Rafa.” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your teacher’s words, and nickname. To your dismay, Rafael noticed you immediately.

“You makin’ fun of me, bro?” He turned his head to stare at you.

“Rafael,” Hernandéz warned.

“Nah, Señora, you don’t get it, I should be sitting over there.”

She wasn’t amused by the way he was gesturing to his friends. “I’ll kick you out.”

“Come on man…” He just threw up his hands and sunk into his far too tiny chair. You prayed he wouldn't start rocking on it and make that god-awful creaking sound. Mrs. Hernández simply turned to ignore him and continue with class.

“Why’s he special anyway?” Rafael mumbled to himself. “Famous cause of his dad?”

Tension – it was so thick you could cut it. The only thing that was cutting through it, apart from your Spanish teacher’s rant, was Miles’ gaze. You could feel it burning right through you. It seemed like Rafael, the moron, for some twisted reason, wanted Miles to hear that.

If you had anything to say at all, it was too late to give Rafael a piece of your mind. Considering how quickly he'd shut you down, it would be useless to stick up for some kid you barely knew. Nobody else heard Rafael anyway; it'd just pit everyone against you. Still, a part of you felt bad. Even though you didn’t really know Miles, he was in a lot of your classes. You’d gotten used to his presence over the past week: moving out of the way so he could get to his seat, occasionally picking up each other’s fallen pens, giving unshared glances to see how the other was doing on the work.

He seemed nice enough despite the lack of words you'd exchanged, but when you turned a little to fix your chair, the expression you caught was anything but. It was almost scary, if you could make out anything from his darkened features. There was a strange sense of focus in his eyes, like he was calculating something – deliberating. You didn't try to guess what, keeping silent and trying to listen to Mrs. Hernández talk about the article while ignoring the deadly gaze simmering behind you.

If you were stronger, scarier, more influential, maybe you’d punch one through Rafael right now. Just looking at him was irritating, and it's not like you hadn't thought of it before. Maybe you wouldn’t have to, though, because it seemed like Miles was thinking the exact same thing. As much as you wanted to learn Spanish and not have a fight happen right next to you, it’d be nice if he was able to teach Rafael to shut up instead of the material he didn't seem to care about.

Miles didn’t look particularly strong — he was kind of scary-looking right now, but that didn’t mean he could take on a 6ft tall football player, no matter how pissed off said football player made him. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, but Miles stayed put for the rest of class; it felt like a sniper was right behind you.

The all-too-familiar creak of the chair made you automatically grit your teeth.

“Oy, mi pana, you got gum?” Rafael murmured to you in his worst friendly voice. It was 10 minutes till the end of class, and he was asking now? You still had no idea what pana meant since he moved next to you, but the way he said it always made you feel icky regardless.

You quickly shook your head, getting a sigh out of him. You hoped he’d give up, but he just leaned over to whisper to you. “What do you think of that dude, huh?

“What?”

“Strange, yeah?”

“He’s okay.” Your defence was quiet, but it was the most you could do as you heard Miles scribbling right behind you.

“He’s drawing, dude.”

You looked at him almost incredulously. Rafael just rolled his eyes.

“Why do you care?” Your voice came out louder than you wanted.

“¡Silencio!” You gave Mrs. Fernandez, another one of your muffled “lo siento”s, shrinking into your seat as her eyes locked onto you. Snickering from Rafael’s friends only fuelled the embarrassment surging through your cheeks. Miles shuffled in his seat behind you, followed by the sound of paper being crumpled up. You wanted to crumple up the smug expression plastered on Rafael's face right now.

Class ended with another stack of homework in your backpack, and you were more than happy to leave. Free period — you could get a start on the homework. Or talk to Wellston about that extra class. The thought made you wince, but you didn’t exactly have a choice. You had to see him by the end of the day.

“Ay, Milo!” You turned to see Rafael and his little group approaching Miles’ desk. “What’s good?”

“Nothing.” He kept his voice low, pushing his chair under the desk. The boys just laughed as he got up, a grating mix of malice and mirth.

“Right, right. Puerto Rican, eh?” It sounded like Rafael was just talking for the sake of talking. You were also standing for the sake of standing too, of course.

Miles let out a mumble as a confirmation of sorts. Heading for the door, he was blocked by Rafael.

“Ay, where you goin’? Let’s talk, huh? Got a free period?” You could see Miles’ eyes narrow, a flash of impatience in his demeanour before he let out a breath. Rafael was trying to get a kick out of this. A kick out of some kid with a dead dad.

“Someone’s waiting for me.”

“Huh? What’d you say? You got friends?” The start of more laughs were already forming around Miles.

You didn’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the regret of not saying anything earlier, or the strange intrigue you’d felt since a week ago. Peeking your head through the door, you took a step back into the classroom. “Miles, c’mon.”

The gnawing feeling only intensified as you felt four sets of eyes on you at the same time. You’d rather it be hunger than the anxiety coursing through you at that moment.

“Comin',” he murmured, shoving past the three boys towards the door.

The two of you left the classroom, hearing a faint “what the hell man?” as the door fell shut. Miles lingered behind you as you approached the next turn in the hallway.

“What’s your name?” He’d already stepped in front of you.

No thanks or anything? Well, he didn't really owe you anything. It was "the right thing to do", like the many anti-bullying posters around the school encouraged you to do. God damn Visions.

“You uh… know my name.”

“Wanna hear it from you.” His voice had a little twinge of an accent that you hadn’t noticed before. You tried not to think too hard on it. Too many details for too little of an interaction.

“You’ve gotta introduce yourself first — pretty sure that’s how it works,” you tried to joke, something like embarrassment replacing the lingering anxiety in your stomach.

“I did — in class.” Miles’ face was unreadable, but there was something like amusement in his voice.

“Not to me specifically, though.”

The two of you stood in the hallway as people ushered past you. A freshman almost hit you running past, making the two of you retreat to stand beside some lockers. Damn freshmen. You were a freshman only last year, but shoving past them in the cafeteria wasn’t exactly fun. Miles seemed unbothered, as he usually did.

“You seriously don’t know my name?” you continued, almost frowning a little.

“Let’s say I don’t.” He leaned back against the cold blue metal of the lockers, tilting his head at you. The tiny mannerism only made your embarrassment grow. “What’s your name, pana?”

“…I still don’t know what that means.” The frustrated sigh you let out made the corner of his mouth curl up.

“And I still don’t know your name, pana.” No wonder you didn’t bother to talk to anyone. It seemed like you never had the upper hand, first with Rafael and now with Miles. Truthfully, though, you knew which you’d rather talk to.

“Sounds like a food,” you continued, shrugging.

“Could be,” he pretended to muse. And to think you thought he was nice. You hadn’t decided to be annoyed yet, though.

“You know my name, Miles.” You must’ve looked funny the way you crossed your arms and furrowed your eyebrows, because that got an entertained breath out of him.

“Who’s Miles? Haven’t introduced myself yet.” His smirk wrote guilty all over his face.

“Milo, then?” It was a bit harsh, but his cockiness made you say it without much thought. The apology was written on your face already, and you unfolded your arms, deciding you couldn’t have Mrs. Hernandéz’s sass today.

“You wanna be called pana forever?” He slipped an earbud into one of his ears, the blue light flickering into life. At least you didn’t tick him off.

“Not like I care,” you murmured, trying to take a step away.

“Seems like you do.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you asked, trying to keep your tone in check as you glanced down the hallway.

“Do you?” You felt like you were talking into a mirror, one that reflected back a person that got all the more mysterious and annoying when you did.

“Yeah, actually.” Mr. Wellston’s class. The thought made your eyes narrow, probably in exhaustion, most likely in irritation. “Need to speak to a teacher.”

His brow raised in mild interest. “You in trouble?”

“I wish. It’s about some extra class I have to take.”

“Calc?” You turned to look at him again, and his expression was more knowing than curious now.

“How’d you guess…?” It sounded more like a statement, your tone more disappointed than surprised. Were you really that bad at Calculus? Maybe you did need this class, especially if calc-wiz thought so.

“…You have lunch today?” he thought to ask instead. For a moment, you were confused, until you remembered calc last week.

“Shut up.” Your cheeks burned, hand balling up the fabric of your uniform. God. Damn it. All.

“Aight, sorry.”

More silence. You should’ve blamed the growling on him.

“Why the class though? You failing?”

“I’m not failing… Just need some help, I guess” Your shrug wasn’t very reassuring.

“Anyone else goin’?” The longer he kept inquiring, the more you figured Mr. Wellston’s attitude was building up.

“No clue. Bet everyone else is gonna join, though. He’ll probably tell everyone anyway.” The people in your class were quiet, but desperate to out-do each other. Maybe the problem wasn’t you, but the fact that everyone else was trying so hard.

“He didn’t ask me.” The corner of his mouth dimpled into his cheek in thought.

“You’re good at calc anyway.”

“Haven’t been here a while, so I gotta catch up, right? Lemme come with.”

You tried to think of what to say as your hand found the back of your neck, but he was already walking past you. Miles looked back at you to see if you were following.

If he had somewhere to be, it didn’t seem to matter. You noted the slight rhythm to his step, wondering what he was listening to, and if his eyes were green or brown. Ripping away your gaze from him before you could chase that thought, you tried to dodge all the freshmen running around as the bell went for next period.

You had more questions than answers so far — both in your backpack to do this period and in your mind. Aside from Miles, you wondered what that extra class would be like, and what Wellston would say. A part of you hoped that Miles would be in that class with you, despite your less than favourable introduction. Maybe you’d figure out why the answer was six litres an hour. Maybe you could be friends.

What was the probability of that? Some questions couldn’t be solved with a calculator. But Miles didn’t need one, after all.

thank you for reading. im so tired of looking at this but its okay part 1 !!! hooray !!! next chapter is miles pov .... need more Substances in my Bloodstream before i post that though LMAO

reblogs appreciated!!!! go back to the series masterlist here or to my atsv masterlist here :)

#miles g morales x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles x reader #miles g morales #miles g #42!miles #miles gonzalo morales #prowler miles #atsv x you #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #vhstown

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beardedmrbean · 3 months ago

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WICHITA FALLS (KFDX/KJTL)— As technology continues to become more accessible around the world, it is becoming easier to see how it affects children and teens.

In an attempt to get a handle on the presence of technology in schools, Dr. Donny Lee and the WFISD are hoping that implementing a new cellphone policy can help reduce technology-related issues in the school district.

There are more child deaths from hot cars in Texas than anywhere else in the US

“Starting issues on social media, bullying other students during the day on social media,” Dr. Lee said. “So, we’ve noticed a whole host of issues, mainly beginning in the secondary levels at junior high and all the way through the high school.”

The new pilot program, set to begin at McNiel and Hirschi Middle Schools, will be implemented through a partnership with Yondr. At the beginning of each school day, students will place their phones in a Yondr pouch, which is locked with a magnetic lock. They can unlock the pouch at the end of the day. La Vega High School in Waco uses Yondr pouches, and within the first six months of using the pouches, student disengagement dropped from 20% to 8%. The number of disciplinary incidents dropped drastically as well.

Though La Vega High School and other schools around Texas showed generally positive results with Yondr, the approach has parents in Wichita Falls torn. Franklin Fokun has a child attending McNiel Middle School. He sees the pouches as a potential positive for the district.

“The phones are supposed to be controlled,” Fokun said. “They don’t have to go to class with them, so they have to keep them somewhere. Then after that, maybe during break you have access, and after that we’ll go back to class, keep it there. So, I think that’s a good idea.”

Jessica Weaver, a mother with a child attending Barwise Middle School, is less enthusiastic about the new policy.

“I don’t like the idea, not with all the school shootings and stuff like that,” Weaver said. “I want my kid to be able to get a hold of me if he needs to, or just even a mental health day. If he needs something, I want him to be able to reach me.”

Given some parents’ concerns, Dr. Lee said keeping students safe is still the highest priority for the WFISD. In the early stages of the policy, parents will have to put more trust in the hands of the district and its safety procedures.

“The safety of your kid is our top priority, but if there’s a thousand different messages going out in the event of a crisis, it’s going to be mass chaos and we’re not going to be able to address the issue,” Dr. Lee said.

If the policy shows improvements in discipline and classroom engagement at McNiel and Hirschi, Barwise Middle School will be the next WFISD school to partner with Yondr.

#nunyas news #this is gonna be popular

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lamnwar · 9 months ago

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Hiii! It was me! Can i request nijimura x fem Reader? Reader was kouhai and bottle girl in teiko. Reader and nijimura became close because she often bring food or snack to practice. Thank you!

hi babe!!! 💕💕 I'm so so sorry I took this long, my laptop crashed when I was halfway through writting it and I had to wait for it to get repaired to go back to writing 😭 ANYWAYS! thank you so so much for requesting Nijimura!! He's so underrated and deserves all the love <33

When Our Spring Comes // Nijumura Shuzo x fem! Reader

Context: in which you're Nijimura's junior at Teiko, and you slowly fall for each other <3

Warnings: none! obvs it's set in middle school so it's very soft and cute and I felt like an old lady experiencing teenage love for the first time while writing it 😭

Spring has always been a bittersweet period of the year to you. When you were just a kid, it always struck you as the time where you’d be separated from your former classmates as you got to graduate and move to the upper class – and oh, was it dreadful to be separated from the group of friends you’ve built over the previous school year! Then you grew a little bit, always hoping to grow more so you awaited spring, the new classes, just a proof that you weren’t a kid anymore.

This spring, though, is rather something you dread. It’s coming quite soon – in 4 weeks from now, so it’s maybe too late for you to worry about it. But the stinging feeling in your stomach that you get every time you think of the future creeps in the minute your eyes meet Shuzo’s. He smiles, unaware of the turmoil inside of your mind. For all you know, he only thinks of you as his cute junior, here at every practice and every match, the nicest smile on your face as you hand your players a bottle of water and sweet words of motivation.

When you first enter Teiko Middle School, the basketball club was the last club you’d ever think of entering. Well, for one, basketball wasn’t quite a passion of yours, and if it was really up to you, you would have integrated a club that matches your interests better. It just happened that you fell sick on the week of club admission, hence missing the deadline and having to choose between integrating the basketball club or the Korean cinema club – which was way too niche for you. Only when you stepped foot inside the gymnasium did you understand that basketball was a big deal in Teiko; well, what other middle school team has three strings of players?

Shuzo Nijimura raised an eyebrow the first time he saw you. Polite and friendly, but definitely less passionate than the crowd of enraged teenage boys he’s used to. Though you clearly did not hide the fact that you weren’t there 100% on your own will, you still attended to your simple task of water girl and, occasionally, snack girl.

So, he’s come to know you, his cute junior. You were always there, so nice to talk to, taking notice of all these little things about the players as you spent more time amongst the team. Standing in the sideline next to him as he took his breaks, looking at the others in training. But the first time Shuzo held a proper conversation with you was during a random afternoon practice, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was in deep reflection, eyes fixed on the first years’ – some of which were your classmates – play. You followed his gaze, somewhat understand what could get him so intrigued with these boys. Despite being in the same team for a little more than two months at this point, the sight of their play never failed to stun whoever watched them.

“Say, you know Murasakibara pretty well, don’t you?” He asked, and you remember jumping a little bit when he talked to you.

“Yeah, we were in the same primary school. Weird guy, I’d say, but who am I to judge?” you chuckled.

Atsushi Murasakibara has always been a strange guy, for all the years you’d known him. You weren’t a friend of him, not even sure if he even knew your name given how disconnected with the world he was, but you were always observant, always knowing people without really knowing them.

“Man…” your captain sighed. “He makes me mad. I was hoping you’d have some tips on how to handle him.”

You raised an eyebrow, not quite sure how he’d come to think you would know.

“When I have a tough time with one of the boys, I usually try to find a way to get to them, make things easier.” He explained. “I don’t wanna say I can read people or something like that, but your classmates are tough nuts to crack.”

“Yeah, these boys… can’t say they’re your average players.”

“Right? I don’t mind having strong players in the team since they make us win, but it’s not all about the games now, is it?”

You shrugged.

“I guess.”

“Yeah, so I’m trying to decipher them one by one. Aomine’s easy, I just had to ask Satsuki. Midorima is fairly approachable, even though I don’t know many 12 years old who take themselves so seriously. And Akashi’s fine, too. But Murasakibara…”

He trailed, and you laughed a bit at the look on his face – one you’d seen quite often on your parents’ face that could clearly read “what am I going to do with that child?”

“Well Atsushi really isn’t that complicated. Not that I know him that well, but he can be bribe with snacks, if that helps.”

“Snacks?”

“Uh-huh. He becomes pretty obedient in exchange for snacks. He likes those kelp chips.”

He let out a soft laugh, then looked at you, and that was also the first time you saw Shuzo’s smile directed to you. Deep in your ribs, you felt your heart jump.

It’s been two years since then. You didn’t expect things to evolve like that. Back then, you would have never seen yourself being by Shuzo’s side even outside of the basketball court. Yet here you are. The last cold breezes of winter disheveling your hair as you try to fix it, in vain. Shuzo’s by your side, chuckling as he sees you struggle. You’ve always been jealous of how his hair never moves. Even when he’s running all around the court, his thick bangs are stable, if not for a few drops of sweat that make them appear a bit thinner. You tsk, Shuzo playfully ruffling your hair. Your heart skips a beat, but you keep it from beating to fast by breathing long and slow.

“Say, captain – “

“Told you not to call me that.” He mumbles in his scarf. “Not your captain, barely your superior in any way.”

“It’s a force of habit.”

“I know.”

“Well, I kinda liked the team better under your mandate.” You chuckle, reminiscing your first year as Teiko’s water girl. The team was something else, back then.

“Hm…” he laughs softly, “but you still love your team.”

“So do you, Shuzo.”

You smile as you watch him blush. He’s never been one to openly admit how much Teiko’s basketball team means to him, but you’ve known him long enough to see the pride in his eyes as he watches his juniors bring yet another victory to your school. You were there, the day he demoted from his position of captain; you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you were just on your way to the teacher’s room when it happened. You never told him, though, that you’ve heard the whole conversation with coach Sanada. Even if you can understand his reason, you firmly believe that he’s the only one capable of keeping the Generation of Miracles at bay. He has that calm, commanding nature, somewhat nurturing despite its rough aspect. But at the end of the day, your opinion doesn’t matter much.

Anyways, he’s not here for long. One month, you counted. And then he’ll move on, and you’ll be left with no… no him around anymore. The realisation hit you, and you try to supress it but it’s hard. You wish he was around longer, would have made your life brighter. You sigh, nudging his shoulder gently.

“You’ll keep playing in high school, right?” you ask as you both stop at a crossway.

“Depends on my dad’s health.”

Ah, yes. That. You suddenly feel bad for your selfish feelings. Doesn’t matter how you feel about him, as your captain or as a person, his decisions weren’t made thoughtlessly. Shuzo loves his dad maybe more than he’s willing to show. You’ve realized it when he would take some extra snacks that you’ve made for practice, telling you that his dad would love these and he’d take them to the hospital on his next visit. So, on those days you’d have these special snacks, you’d sneak a little pouch of them in his bag. He never said a word about it, but you’d see his face the next day when he’d tell you about his visit to his dad. You don’t have to ask; he’ll just tell you if he feels like it. And every time, you’ll lend an ear.

“Man…” you tsk.

He raises his eyebrows, surprised by your sudden exclamation. While he looks at you, you deviate your gaze to your gloves-covered hands.

“Don’t wanna think about how you’ll probably find yourself another water girl wherever you’re going after Teiko.”

He’s silent for a few seconds, before the soft sound of his laugh creeps into your ears. Your efforts to hide your blushing face in your scarf reveals itself to be a failure; it’s ok, right? He’ll probably think it’s the cold, right?

“I won’t replace you, you know. I don’t think I can.”

“Huh?”

It’s your turn to stare at him dumbfounded. Shuzo’s face is surprisingly serene, despite the weight of his words. To your heart, it sounds like a confession, but you’d be a fool to bet on that. Being friends is all you ever are, never more. It’s an insane possibility, yet…

“I’ll miss you, you know, when I’ll be in high school.”

He stops, looking at the sky. It’s clear and blue, far from the storm brewing in his body. Shuzo Nijimura has never been vocal about his feelings, let alone those of such softness. The confidence with which he’s uttered these words stuns him first; but his heart is about to burst at any moment.

“Well… we don’t have to part ways either.” You mumble.

“You mean that?”

You nod. He’s silent. He’s never thought of that as an option. But now that you’ve said it, he’s struck by the sudden realisation that he’s absolutely an idiot.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?” you look up at him, confused.

“You’re receiving a promotion, if you accept it.” He looks away for a second, before facing you with the kind of determination he only shows on the basketball court.

A small smile paints itself on your face, seeing his fists rolled in ball like he’s about to fight you. Well, he’s rather fighting himself.

“I’ll promote you. From my water girl to my girlfriend. Would you like that?”

“Eh?!”

The look on your face would normally make him laugh, but he rather not. If anything, he’s on the verge of cardiac arrest. Mere seconds have passed, but it feels like you’re taking forever to give him an answer. But then you do.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

Shuzo’s arms are quick to wrap around you, pushing you in a tight embrace while you take a minute to reciprocate the hug. His erratic heartbeats resonate through your body as it sinks in just how much this entire moment means for him. You close your eyes, humming against his chest.

“God, I’m so glad you didn’t reject that lame confession.”

You laugh, daring to leave a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Like I ever would, captain.”

He follows your words with a heartfelt chuckle, one that feels warm like those late winter sunrays that kiss your face right now.

And in this moment, the thought of spring coming has your heart blooming.

#here it is!#i was so happy to write on him thanks for the request love <33 #knb #kuroko no basuke #nijiumura shuzo #knb x reader #nijimura x reader #knb fluff

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ragecndybars · 2 years ago

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I was rambling about this the other day, but I feel like I'm ready to expound upon it a little more, so... AU where Shinjiro Aragaki, post P3P femc route, ends up on the Investigation Team in Inaba two years later.

Obviously he couldn't go back to school right away after the events of the game, given that he'd just come out of a months-long coma and had been wasting away from the suppressants for years before that. So he had to take a year off for health reasons. But when the time came for him to actually have his third year of high school, he found that he couldn't go back to Gekkoukan. It was just... too painful. His only memories of that school now are either bittersweet at best or actively painful. And the rest of SEES had just graduated, save Ken of course, so it wasn't like he had any friends he wanted to stay for.

Mitsuru would want him to apply to a ton of prestigious, highly-ranked schools, of course, but don't get it twisted -- he agreed to finish high school, not become some model student out of nowhere. Sure, he's a smart guy, and he actually doesn't mind studying, but, even with his conscience cleared of the events of October 4th, he's still a badmouthed delinquent who hates authority and cuts class. Most prestigious schools aren't owned by a close friend of his, and therefore take issue with admitting someone whose attendance record and rap sheet are as bad as Shinjiro's. And it's not like he wants to put up with those high expectations and strict rules, anyway.

So, to appease Mitsuru, he applies to a decent enough school, one with pretty high average test scores, but he mainly makes his decision based on his own wants and needs. He wants a school that's relatively lenient with delinquents, but without a large delinquent population -- he doesn't have the time to be surrounded by punk kids, even if he himself is still a punk kid at heart -- and, most importantly, someplace calm. Someplace small and out in the middle of nowhere, so that he can get some damn peace and quiet.

It doesn't get much quieter than Inaba.

Of course, because God hates him, there's a murder in town, like, two days after he gets there. One minute, everyone in Yasogami is whispering non-stop about how one of the transfers this year is a third year delinquent-looking guy who's visibly pushing 20. The next minute, they're all being sent home, and then a dead body is found.

Initially, Shinjiro doesn't suspect any Shadow- or Persona-related weirdness is afoot, but then he hears all the buzz around school that something called the "Midnight Channel" was showing the victim's face in the days leading up to her death, and he has had enough horrid supernatural experiences at midnight to be suspicious. So he tests it out for himself, sees Saki Konishi on the screen, and the next day, she turns up dead the same way Yamano did.

So... great. Amazing. Perfect. Obviously something is going on, and Shinjiro has no idea what it is or what to do about it. At least back in Iwatodai, he knew that someone else was on top of the Shadow shenanigans, so he didn't have to worry, and he had a direct line to the Dark Hour experts if he ever needed to step in. Now, as far as he knows, there's no one around but him to handle this. Sure, he could probably call Mitsuru and have her send the newly-formed Shadow Operatives to handle it, but... well, he's not entirely sure that it's actually Shadow-related, and, even if it is, it's not like he has any other information that could help them solve it, so they would be wasting their time. And... okay, to be honest, things are still a little tense between him and the others right now, and his pride can't handle having to ask for help less than a week after moving away. Especially since Akihiko and Mitsuru in particular had both been hesitant to let him out of their sight.

So... for now, he's on his own. He'll look into this himself, at least until he gets a bit more information.

First things first: the next time he watches the Midnight Channel, he looks carefully and tries to find out who it's depicting. He knows barely anything about the town, so he isn't able to figure it out just from noticing it's a girl in a kimono, but he spends the next day looking around for a place where people might wear kimonos as daily attire, and the news pieces on the Amagi Inn put Yukiko on his shortlist.

Before he can do anything but hypothesize, though, she goes missing. Not yet knowing how the TV world works (or even of its existence), and hypothesizing that he might have until midnight to find and save her, he goes into crisis mode and starts frantically searching. Luckily, while he never would have found her on his own, in the midst of his search, he runs into something that he does know how to handle.

Namely, when he's asking around about Amagi, he hears a lot of people mention her friends, and said friends are acting suspicious as hell. Butting into the police investigation. Getting caught with weapons in the Junes food court. Skulking around outside Daidara Metalworks after school. Gathering around and muttering to one another in a cluster in the lunchroom.

This isn't Shinjiro's first rodeo. He knows the signs. Those kids are Persona users, and clearly they know what's going on more than he does.

But obviously he can't just leave it alone at this point. If those idiot kids bite off more than they can chew and get themselves killed, that'll be on his shoulders. So he corners them outside Junes, confronts them, reveals to him that he knows something supernatural is going on and that he can tell they have Personas, and manages to convince them to bring him into the fold.

They escort him into the TV world -- I think he probably wouldn't be able to enter by himself at first, but once he was in the first time, he would be able to enter freely. He doesn't manifest a Shadow due to already having his Persona, which makes them a bit less wary of him, since it lends validity to his story. He also summons Castor with an Evoker at first, but it freaks them out so much that he begrudgingly learns how to crush the tarot card instead, just so that these damn kids will stop looking at him like that.

With his help, they manage to rescue Yukiko in record time, but they're still a little leery of Shinjiro and his supposed old friends. Given that they kept the police completely in the dark as well, I think it's unlikely they would trust him to bring in an extremely shady group of unknown "Shadow Operatives", and... well, like I said, Shinjiro's pride doesn't want him to contact Mitsuru, either, so he doesn't fight them too hard about it. At this point, it seems like they'll be in good shape to safely rescue everyone who gets tossed in, so it's not like Mitsuru being there would necessarily help, anyway. Or he's able to convince himself of that, at least.

From there, the plot would proceed more or less unchanged. Maybe they manage to save everyone a little faster than they would've without Shinjiro's help; maybe they're able to resolve some conflicts amongst themselves that would've lasted a little longer if Shinjiro wasn't there to give them a smack upside the head and tell them to get over themselves; maybe a few other arguments run even longer than they would have because they strike Shinjiro in a sore spot. But, overall, they save everyone who gets thrown in and they collect clues as to the identity of the culprit at a similar rate to canon.

Eventually, the IT would warm up to Shinji and he would warm up to them. Like I said, the plot would be mostly unchanged up until around Naoto joined, at which point they would finally contact the Shadow Operatives for help.

Of course, they immediately come running to help, and Shinjiro isn't going to admit it, but he feels horribly guilty for having not contacted them earlier. Even though it was technically the Investigation Team who refused to let him, he still went along with it because of his pride, and now he feels that Morooka's death and the suffering that the rest of the IT went through are all on him, even if the Shadow Operatives couldn't have logically prevented all of that.

He starts withdrawing from the team somewhat, guilty and uncertain, until, at the worst possible moment, he suddenly finds that he can't summon Castor anymore. Next thing he knows, another dungeon is forming in the TV world and his Shadow drags him inside, forcing both the Investigation Team and the Shadow Operatives to rescue him.

I keep going back and forth on what his Shadow would be, but I keep going back to the idea of Shadow Shinjiro is literally hunting Shinji down like an animal, just like Castor used to turn on him -- because it's a manifestation of Shinjiro's self-hatred and inability to forgive himself for the death of Ken's mother.

Only after accepting his own Shadow does Castor evolve, and Shinjiro no longer has to take suppressants to stop it from rebelling. It was his own self-hatred and rejection of himself -- rejection of Castor -- that was making it act out. Finally, he's forced to face himself and accept himself rather than running from the guilt that's haunted him since October 4th.

And like. the ending of the game would not really change, either. But just. Shinji gets closure and self-acceptance. The Investigation Team gets someone a little older and more experienced to look after them. Kanji gets a good role model, even if Shinji won't admit that he is one. Yu gets someone who isn't afraid to question his decisions but is still willing to back him when they agree.

Just... soft self-indulgent fluffy fanfic where Shinjiro joins the Investigation Team and gets to experience the normal teenage years that he never got (even if there's also more Persona nonsense and a murderer thrown in there).

Before I end this post, here are the basic character dynamics I'm envisioning:

Souji/Yu: Actively trying to befriend Shinjiro from the beginning, but Shinjiro resists and avoids him because he sees too much of FeMC in him and it brings up bad memories. Yu tries to give him space at first, but ultimately is persistent and manages to make Shinjiro open up a little. Their relationship has a lot of mutual respect, but it takes a long time for them to progress past their uneasy alliance. Once they do, though, they're pretty tight.

Yosuke: Doesn't get along with Shinjiro at first, being much more wary of him than the others. Even when he decides that they're definitely on the same side, he's still kind of scared of him. Once Shinjiro proves himself, they get along better, often feeling like the only sane men in the group and bonding based on their shared exasperation. Shinjiro does get on his case a lot, though, and tends to treat him like a kid.

Chie: Looks up to him for his fighting ability and experience, but they also clash a lot because he snarks at her and calls her an idiot constantly. He can't help it. She's too much like a young Aki for him to treat her as anything but an annoying little sibling.

Yukiko: Thinks he's hilarious, much to his chagrin. They have a pretty average and respectful relationship most of the time, and half the time they end up feeling like the only sane men among the group. He also refuses to let her cook, even in the name of giving her "lessons", which annoys her, but whenever he bars her from the kitchen it usually means he'll take over, so she's willing to look past it.

Teddie: Flip-flops rapidly between being genuinely scared of Shinjiro and hanging off his arm. Shinjiro tolerates both of these behaviors because he thinks of Teddie as a young kid, and therefore is extremely protective of Teddie. This persists even when Teddie grows his body and looks/acts more like a teenager. In Shinjiro's head, he's just a very tall, very annoying toddler.

Kanji: Thinks he's the coolest guy ever. Shinjiro gets flustered by hates this lowkey idol worship and tries to dissuade it by being extra short with Kanji. Not only does this not help, but he can't even keep up the act half the time because he actually really likes Kanji and is way too fond of him to stay gruff. It doesn't help that, every time Kanji's "girlish" hobbies come up, Shinjiro feels the need to come to his defense as a fellow manly man who likes to cook and sew.

Rise: Thinks he's kind of unremarkable and a little intimidating. She's one of the few people in the group who actually has the guts to tease him to his face, though. She does not fear God. Luckily, being a non-combatant renders her completely safe from retaliation, so he mostly just glares and talks big whenever she pisses him off.

Naoto: Extremely appreciative of Shinjiro for being the Only Sane Man (Yosuke gets booted out of the position for being kind of a dumbass at times). Also annoyed because Shinjiro has a tendency to treat them all like kids, which bugs Naoto more than the others. They both appreciate one another's company and general maturity/intelligence, although Shinjiro doesn't like when Naoto tries to drag him into deductions or anything.

Nanako: Very scared of him and he doesn't know what to do about it. He tries not to show it, but it really gets to him. When she eventually warms up to him, he's so happy about it that he has to flee the house immediately before any of the IT catch on.

Dojima: Leery of him. Doesn't want Yu spending time with him at first, and only relents because he begrudgingly admits that it's not his place to decide who Yu befriends. Even then, Yu is constantly subject to prying questions about his group of shady-ass friends (known-delinquent Kanji and sword-in-food-court Yosuke don't help with this either, but nearly-twenty-and-still-hasn't-graduated-because-of-a-fucking-gunshot-wound Shinjiro takes the cake). Dojima eventually comes to accept that Shinjiro isn't a bad guy, but they never progress past icy stares and terse nods.

Marie: They get along okay but don't really like each other. They both think the other is weird as hell.

#Persona 3 #P3 #Persona 3 spoilers #MAJOR SPOILERS FR #Persona 4 #P4 #spoilers for that game too ig #IT!Shinjiro AU #Shinjiro Aragaki #Yu Narukami #Souji Seta #Kanji Tatsumi #Yosuka Hanamura #Chie Satonaka #Yukiko Amagi #Rise Kujikawa #Naoto Shirogane #Rage Writes #might write this fic eventually but i just had to get this out there

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bieups · 2 years ago

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Langblr Reactivation Challenge: Week 3 Day 3 - Vocab. List #3

Continuing with my workplace theme, here are a few more Misc. School Vocab!

공립 학교 - public school

사립 학교 - private school

국제 학교 - international school

Note: some 학원 may call themselves private or international schools…but there are official requirements in order to be legally recognized as a legit international/private school. This is good to be aware of if you’re looking to teach in Korea!

학년 - grade level (i.e. 3rd grade = 3학년 [use Sino numbers])

초등학교 - elementary/primary school (1학년~6학년 = Korean age 7-12)

중학교 - middle school (1학년~3학년 = Korean age 13-15)

고등학교 - high school (1학년~3학년 = Korean age 16-19)

학원 - academy; kids often attend math/English/music classes at 학원 after school, but there are also tons of academies for adults that teach everything from foreign language to cooking. A lot of them focus on test prep. because even companies use exams for hiring & promotions.

서울시교육청 - Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education “MOE” (you can replace Seoul with other cities)

등교 - going to school

미나는 매일 걸어서 등교해요. // Mina walks to school every day.

하교 - returning home from school

오늘 1시 50분에 하교버스를 출발합니다. // Today at 1:50 the school bus will depart.

보결 - substitute

학부모 - parents of students

신입생 - new student [see also 신입 사원 for new employee]

방과후학교 (수업) - after school (class); schools often run their own after school activities/classes that are generally cheaper than 학원 classes.

대학수학능력시험 (“수능”) - college entrance exams; this is the big deal test that Korean high schoolers take, it’s only given once a year and many businesses & schools start later than usual in an effort to have less traffic in the morning while the test-takers are commuting to their test sites. The English section is notoriously ridiculous.

매년 수능일은 1교시 수업은 실시하지 않습니다. // Every year on the day of the college entrance exams, we don’t have 1st period. [This is part of a real announcement at my job.]

And, just for fun, here are some important workplace words that don’t only apply to teachers!

4대보험 - 4 insurances (these are the standard insurances that employees get through their employers)

건강보험 - health insurance

국민연금 - national pension

고용보험 - unemployment insurance

산재보험 - workers’ compensation insurance (in case you’re injured on the job)

월급 - monthly pay

#langblr #studyblr #language learning #korean #한국어 #vocabulary #langblr reactivation challenge #vocab list #한국어 공부 #korean language #learn korean

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limnaia · 4 months ago

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That last comment ^

As a side note, there are borders in the UK that are closer than France. Ireland, Wales and Scotland are right there. While there are some cultural commonalities, they are distinct countries with their own cultures and so on.

I think the big thing that a lot of people don't realise is how young Europeans tend to leave their country. To give an example, here's some of my youthful travel history.

As an English kid, I was one of the last in my class to have left the country. I was maybe 9? Family holiday to Cyprus. It was the first time my Dad had left the country. He was in his thirties at the time. This stuff is very heavily influenced by class - he grew up working class and me and my sisters grew up sort of lower middle class/working class. By the time I finished primary school, we'd been to Spain and Tunisia, as well. Most kids my age had been going abroad for years at that point, even if it was only on cheap package deals to tourist spots that cater to Brits abroad. Even then, however, my primary school organised student trips to Wales, which is, again, another country.

My secondary school organised trips to Europe each year after the first - alternating between France and Germany. So year 8 was France, Year 9 was Germany, Year 10 was an exchange with a French school, and Year 11 was an exchange with a German school. I knew a lot of kids who could afford all four, but my family couldn't. So I did the year 8 France trip and the year 11 German exchange. There were yearly skiing trips to various destinations, but I never went on those.

They also organised trips to North and South America, when I was in sixth form, assuming you chose the appropriate subjects to study (ie: 18) - I attended one of each, so I had a week in San Francisco with my sociology class, and two weeks in Honduras, helping at a conservation camp in the rainforest, and learning to dive off the coast with my biology class. My younger sister had a trip to Beijing with her sociology class at the same school. My uncle (also at the same school) visited Moscow on a politics class trip before the Iron Curtain fell. There was also a biology research trip to the Isle of Man that I attended. (Which is a self governing crown dependency, which means that it isn't part of the UK, but does share a monarch with us, while also not being its own sovereign state, but having its own laws and so on. It's complicated and I don't understand it at all, but I needed my passport to travel there, so it counts as 'another country' functionally.)

Later, my undergraduate degree required me to live in both Germany and the Netherlands for half a year. I studied languages, and that was, at the time, a standard required part of the university curriculum in Europe. (I'm not sure how Brexit has affected it these days, but I'm certain it isn't for the better.)

Here's the kicker, though: for pretty much the entirety of my childhood, I wasn't as well travelled as most of my friends. To this day, I'm less well travelled than many of my peers because I haven't visited Asia or Australia, or any part of Africa south of Tunisia or Morocco. (though not for lack of trying - we had a trip to Japan planned before covid and my cousin in law's Australian wedding that both fell through, unfortunately.)

The point I'm getting at is, even if it's only for a week every other year, the ability to travel somewhere with different currency and language and cultural norms as a little kid? And have that be normal? And have some small exposure to different ways of living? What that does for your developing brain and (hopefully, if you aren't being a racist/colonialist prick about it) your way of seeing the world is utterly invaluable.

I wish more Americans had those sorts of opportunities. You've (theoretically, given money for a flight, or gas) got access to different biomes and subtly different cultures, but there isn't a state where people flat out don't/aren't encouraged to believe in standard American values. They make all of you recite that damn pledge daily in schools FFS. It's fucked up, and you all deserve better working conditions and affordable travelling costs to help enable that.

Not to sound like a complete hippy, but travel really does broaden your mind and your horizons, even if it's only in tiny increments.

since moving here ive noticed europeans have no concept of how few americans ever leave USA. every american tourist youve met is of an economic crust that is vastly unobtainable to the other like. 85% generously. no matter what you have believed i can guarantee this. even getting to canada isnt really a possibility and the mexico-US border is highly controlled and militarized.

to put it into perspective. a ~2 hour flight from london to warsaw is like. 30 to 45 USD?

and a 2 hour flight from one US city to another would be about 130 USD

it was very cheap to fly here. i make over 100k USD now and i dont know if ill ever be able to afford leaving. if that gives you an idea of how prohibitive travel is here. i havent even touched on how the US has Zero guaranteed holidays by the govt. many people here go years without ever having an entire week off of work

this has had a like. massive impact on American Brain and they dont even know it because travel isnt even a consideration economically. they dont even know how much more vacation time european countries have guaranteed

#jim waxes poetic about travel #honestly just being able to briefly leave TERF Island and visit sensible countries is a much needed escape #dear usamericans: consider rioting

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lanshappycorner · 2 years ago

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Deuce x Riddle idea because uH yeah why not

Consider: AU where during middle school Riddle and Deuce live in the same area of the Queendom of Roses, and while Deuce goes to a random public school, Riddle goes to a Posh private school and they somehow meet

Deuce is wandering along the streets when he sees some bigger dudes from another school trying to bully some poor little redhead for his money. As Deuce considers it His turf, he steps in and basically sends the dudes flying

He talks to Riddle and Riddle insists that he didn't need Deuce's help. Riddle isnt too keen on thanking Deuce either, since Deuce was very obviously a delinquent, and this was less about deuces desire to help people and more about the fact that he only got involved bc apparently this was HIS property (which riddle also adds that its NOT btw bc Deuce is just some middle school brat who cannot own a public space because hes broke as shit. Deuce cannot counter)

Deuce is Pissed he went out of his way to save this stinky skrunkly and hes not even given a thank you (he wasn't expecting one anyways but he also wasn't expecting to be insulted in the face). It wasn't like Riddle was necessarily Wrong though, deuce had extorted randos for their money before, it wasn't like he saved Riddle out of the goodness in his heart

Riddle turns to leave, and before he does so, Deuce notices his uniform and makes a remark about how "oh of course you go to that stupid rich people school. All of you guys are like that, stuck up and privileged" to which Riddle is now fuming because 1) riddles family is well off enough but hes not rich and 2) hes doing his best for his mom </3

Angry, he collars deuce with his magic and stomps off, leaving deuce to stand there dumbfounded and annoyed

The collar isnt coming off even though it's been a day, and Deuce is not having it. He's a gang leader for fucks sake he cant walk around with a collar around his neck, that's ridiculous!! So he skips class (as usual) and waits in front of the gates at Riddle's school. Clearly he is out of his environment and many kids are uncomfortable with his general Existence there but hes stubborn and refuses to leave

Eventually riddle comes out of the gates and Deuce is just like "listen here you fucking strawberry lookin asshole get this thing off my neck" and Riddle is just "LMAO no. Nice try tho" Riddle is extremely annoyed Deuce came all the way to his school and demanded stuff from him but also he finds Great Amusement in seeing Deuce look so miserable, it's just the Best

Deuce would have persisted more if not for the fact that a car suddenly rolled up to pick up Riddle. Riddle just smirks at him and drives away, leaving an enraged Deuce who continued to pester him every day until he takes away the collar

The next day, deuce actually ambushes Riddle before he arrives at school. Riddle once again refuses to take off the collar, resulting in Deuce pretty much wrestling Riddle to the ground and successfully potato sack style carrying Riddle off somewhere. Riddle looks extremely panicked—not because Deuce is taking him to an unknown location, but because hes worried that his perfect attendance would be broken

Deuce is unaffected by Riddle's panic. If anything he is relishing in it bc "honestly fuck that guy he collared me </33 what's he gonna do now tho collar me again ?? Lmao" he ends up taking Riddle to an arcade. When riddle is set down he automatically tries to run, only for Deuce to grab his hand and force him back

Riddle is obviously nervous. They're both in uniform, its during school hours, everyone in the arcade is looking at them as if thinking "are they skipping? They're such bad students...they shouldn't be here" (or at least that's what riddles paranoid mind conjures, but no one around them really cares). He looks at his watch and it's essentially too late to even go back. Goodbye perfect attendance

Deuce gets Riddle to play a bunch of games with him and even buys him a boba tea afterwards </3 they do bond a little and realize that the other doesnt suck as much as they originally thought. Deuce is shocked by how many things Riddle has never done or isnt allowed to do tho

Riddle insists it's not a big deal and it's the price he has to pay for success, but he doesn't deny that he had fun. He does ask Deuce why did Deuce take him to an arcade. Like usually delinquents would resort to violence to get their way right, why not just force Riddle to do it?

Deuce just replies that Riddle seems stupidly stubborn and prideful, Deuce hates fighting people like that cause they never give up. He says that he has no intention of being violent with Riddle (as least in a punching kicking to hurt Riddle kinda sense), but he has resolved to just spending time with him and clinging to him until he lets Deuce go. Riddle just calls Deuce stupid

Before Riddle goes home, Deuce hands him a letter that he prepared. It's basically a letter put together with newspaper scrappings, and it's basically a note saying that an anonymous person kidnapped Riddle for the day and wants ransom. He instructs riddle to just tell his family that he was used for ransom and Riddle managed to escape in time. That way, riddle won't get in trouble. Riddle just stares at the letter and takes it, but he doesnt say anything about it, clearly he is conflicted about lying to his parents.

Deuce is expecting to see Riddle again the next day but he doesnt. And Riddle is no where to be seen for the next week. Even the collar had disappeared with time and yet there wasnt a trace of Riddle. Deuce ends up going to Riddles school and forcing random students to tell him where riddles house is

Late at night, deuce scales up a tree and throws rocks at riddles balcony door. Riddle was abt to sleep, but he was tossing and turning thinking abt what Deuce was up to. He cautiously goes to the door and looks outside only to see Deuce. Opening the door, he asks him wtf he was doing there, and Deuce hops onto Riddles balcony and just asks him what HE was doing at home

Riddle confesses that he couldnt lie to his mom and he just tells her he skipped school. He doesnt mention Deuce to his mom nor did he take out the scrap letter. But bc of that, his mom forced him into being home schooled. Deuce just scoffs "and you call me stupid"

Hes frustrated by this outcome but apologizes to Riddle bc Riddle wouldnt be even more caged up if it werent for him. Riddle just tells him to not apologize bc he didn't regret it. Deuce decides that since he was the one who isolated Riddle, he'd at the very least visit him often

So he stops by almost daily at night to talk to Riddle. But along the way the whole thing where he realizes he disappointed his mom happens and he tells Riddle one day that its selfish but he probably wont be able to stop by as often anymore because hes decided to turn his life around and begin studying. He wants to make his mom proud

Riddle is saddened by the news but hes happy Deuce is taking a better path in life and he tells him its fine. Deuce is still worried bc Riddle has a habit of saying things r fine when they're not fine, but even if Riddle DID want him to stay, its not as if he could do it.

Riddle says that soon he'll be entering a college far away, so even if Deuce doesnt visit him anymore, its okay. Deuce doesn't know how to feel abt this but hes glad that Riddle will have some freedom

A year goes by and Deuce has not heard from Riddle in ages. Deuce studies hard tho snd gets into NRC, only to realize that his dorm head is rather Familiar ....

That is all for now but mayhaps I will continue later

#im sorry this is a mess but i think they #i just have many thoughts

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 2 years ago

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Bound, Part 3

Previous part

Marinette was quick to fade into the background – a bug on the wall, scurrying along doing its own thing while praying that the people in the room wouldn’t come by to squash it.

She learned to keep her head down, to never get higher or lower than an 80, to sit in the middle of the classroom and never speak unless spoken to.

Like now.

It was the last day of school before winter break started and the students were practically vibrating with excitement. Madame Bustier wouldn’t have been able to teach them anything if she tried. So, she wasn’t trying – she had given the kids some paper and nontoxic paint and said to go wild.

Marinette listened to her classmates chatter as she fingerpainted a Cardinal.

They were all heading out of town to visit various amusement parks and monuments, at the very least, and people like Alix and Chloe were leaving the country for business (her dad’s) and pleasure (she wanted to attend the Wayne Charity Gala) respectively.

Of course, the conversation naturally found its way to her regardless of her lack of engagement.

“What’s your family going to do, Mari?” asked Rose.

She was going to visit family in China.

But, while she was polite enough to answer, she was not polite enough to tell the truth:

“Not much,” she said, absently rubbing her nose – and smearing red paint over her skin in the process. At least the color somewhat hid the blush creeping up her cheeks. “My family can’t really leave the bakery, y’know?”

“Oh…” Rose floundered for something to say to that. She must not have found anything, though, because she ended up just saying “Cool!” and then quickly moving on to ask Ivan.

Which, of course, had been Marinette’s intention. She might have felt bad, Rose was one of the nicest people in the class, but she, like Nino, had only ducked her head and said nothing when Chloe had decided she was her target for the day.

Rose was friendly, but not a friend. It was an important distinction to make, Marinette had learned.

She didn’t really want to be friends with anyone in her class, anyways. Not when The Incident still hung so heavily in the forefront of her mind. Not when she still had to hide the fact that she had a soulmate in order to keep Chloe from ragging on her.

Now, she wasn’t great at hiding her pain, she was still just a kid and sudden injuries that you aren’t ready for aren’t quite something you can just get used to. But she managed the best she could.

She learned that any injuries she may get hurt less if she had her muscles constantly tensed – her dentist was not pleased with this discovery of hers, she had started grinding her teeth down to dust, but it was easy to brush off as her being a baker’s daughter.

This was particularly helpful now for the finger painting activity. Tiny cuts littered her fingertips, leaving tiny red lines beneath her skin that mingled with the deep reds and browns of healing burns from her time helping out in the bakery. Her soulmate was, unfortunately, rather prone to papercuts…

Nerd, she thought, even though she could get straight As if she wanted.

Marinette shook out her hand as another papercut(?) appeared on her ring finger. Idiot, she thought, because that stuff hurt.

Nino frowned over at her. “You okay?”

She wasn’t falling for that again, thanks.

“Mhmm!” She chirped, rubbing her fingers together as if that would smooth over the pain. It did smooth out the paint, so close enough. “Just a papercut.”

“You can ask Mme. Bustier to give you a bandaid.”

“Just a papercut,” she repeated in lieu of explaining that she wasn’t the one that was bleeding. She would prefer if the fact (insert Chloe’s usual air quotes here) that she had a soulmate faded into the recesses of her classmate’s memories. The less she stood out, the better off she would be. The more boring she was, the less people wanted to talk to her.

It was best for her to hide away in a shadowed corner. Sure, it was dark and she would much rather spend her time in the sun, but she was safe there.

Maybe it was a little lonely, but she liked being alone. It helped her think, gave her time to do whatever she wanted without interruptions. And she had her family, anyways, so she didn’t really need anyone else.

Right?

Tim wasn’t tall enough for his seatbelt, but the car wasn’t equipped with a car seat and he was stuck craning his neck.

That was why his throat felt so tight, he was sure.

He crossed his arms over his chest petulantly. “But you just got here. You said you’d be here until the Gala, at least.”

His father wasn’t at all perturbed, he was practically vibrating with excitement in his seat as he told him: “I know, sport, but they just discovered a new tomb in Egypt! We’d be remiss to miss!”

“Then take me with you!” Tim tried.

“Timmy…” his mother began, and he knew that if he gave her enough time to finish her sentence she would reject the idea without hearing him out.

“But I know all about archae-ology now!” Tim rushed to explain. “Like… Lucy! She’s the oldest human we’ve found, and they called her ‘Lucy’ because the music they were listening to when they found her was ‘Lucy in the sky with diamonds’ by the Beatles!”

His mother sighed. “This isn’t something you can read in a book. This is something you have to learn by doing.”

“Then let me come with you!” Tim tried again, and he felt tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes. This had to be due to the seatbelt, as well. “Please!”

“You have school,” said his father.

“I don’t want to go to school! I want to be with you guys!”

“Timothy!” his father snapped.

His mouth clicked shut, seemingly of its own accord, and he turned his head to glare out the window. The sky above them was that ugly gray color that hung over Gotham like a plague. Graffiti-speckled, decrepit buildings. People walking, heads down, careful not to look too absent nor too wary.

And then it shifted into pristine buildings with gorgeous architecture and kids walking without concern towards their classes.

Tim waited until he was on the edge of his campus before unbuckling his seatbelt.

He looked at his parents. “I can get out here.”

They clearly didn’t want him around, anyways.

They waited for the eight-year-old to clamber out of the car and swing his backpack over his shoulder.

He got a few steps away before his mother called out to him:

“Timmy?”

He whipped his head around.

She blew him a kiss and offered him a smile.

“Behave yourself at school, okay?”

He sighed. “I know, mom.”

“Remember: good children should be seen, not heard.”

Tim thought it was stupid of his father to say that when he hadn’t so much as glanced back at him once since they had gotten in the car.

He tightened his grip on his backpack and headed towards his classroom, feet trudging. He already knew all of that – of course he did, he was a straight A student. He only ever spoke up in class when it was clear no one else knew the answer (and how anyone had that problem was beyond him, he swore he could fall asleep in his classes and still manage to get perfect scores). He was the perfect child, and they didn’t even seem to know! How could they? They were never able to make it to his parent-teacher conferences.

Tim kicked a rock as hard as he could. It scuttled across the grass for a few feet before falling still.

Seen and not heard. Please. He was lucky when he was even seen.

He stopped short just outside his class.

Fine. If his parents didn’t want to see him, then he would make them.

He walked to the bathroom and dumped everything in his backpack into the nearest trash can. It was the last day of school before testing started and he had several projects and assignments due, but he didn’t really care.

Would they care?

Tim received a phone call later that night. He looked up from his textbook. He usually ignored calls (they were usually spam callers anyways), but this one had a preset ringtone, so it had to be someone he knew.

He swiped his thumb across the screen and pulled his phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

The person was clearly in a pretty crowded area, Tim could hear whispers of other conversations on the other end of the line.

“Timothy Jackson Drake.”

He winced just slightly, though he didn’t know whether it was due to his mother’s clipped tone or the use of his full name.

“Yes?” he said, struggling to keep his voice level.

“Do your work.”

The phone clicked before he could even respond.

… that was it?

Tim gripped his phone tighter, the ridges digging into his palms. Nothing about how his parents had helped him with a few homework questions the night before (which had been a lie, he had just wanted their undivided attention for a couple of minutes), no questions of whether he was okay, not even the angry ‘we’re coming home right now!’ that he was hoping for… just an order to do better.

Well, his mother needn’t have worried. He would do better.

And so it began. He spent the first test day purposefully circling the wrong answers and doodling in the margins of his papers.

His teachers kept asking him if anything was up, so his parents had to be contacted…

Which was confirmed when, like the day before, his parents called. And, like the day before, the conversation had been short. Practically nonexistent. Tim hadn’t even been able to say hi before his father had hissed out that they didn’t have time for his “little stunt” and then hung up on him.

Fine. Fine.

He fell asleep at his desk the next day.

He got little more than a text from both of his parents telling him they were ‘tired of this misbehavior’. Yeah, well, he was tired too.

Tim gritted his teeth. He wanted to travel all the way across the ocean so he could grab his parents by the shoulders and shake them. He just wanted them to come back, even if it was to punish him, but even when he was ruining their reputation (he wasn’t, he had calculated his grades beforehand and there was no danger of him failing even with this ‘stunt’ he was pulling) they didn’t seem all that interested in staying to take care of a problem of a child.

He didn’t go to school the next day.

And, as if to mirror the lack of effort he put into walking the mile to class, his parents didn’t even bother sending him a text.

He watched the tiny white numbers on his screen flicker as they changed to tell him it was midnight, and then threw his phone at the wall.

Wasn’t like there was much use for it, anyways, it seemed.

~~~~~

Next part

#back on my anxiety gf/depression bf solidarity babes #man writing tim is easy because its similar to what i did #but then mari exists #and i gotta traumatize her too to be fair #and im out of trauma :(#lmao #bound #i feel you #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #tim drake #red robin #ladybug #timinette #timari #shutterbug #timmari

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timextoxhajima · 3 years ago

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Accelerate [Dana’s 600 Special]

Track: Feel It by Michele Morrone / Drunk-Dazed by ENHYPHEN / Insanity by THE BOYZ

Member: I swear he’s not even my bias

Genre: i-ion know-

Word Count: it’s pretty damn long so please don’t make me write a part two

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @lsangyeons

The first time you laid eyes on Lee Hyunjae, you were both in Italy as he was being blinded by a billion flashes in his face. The light reflects off his dark hair - which was once a brighter color - as he maintains that polite, miniscule smile on his face. Most of the photographers and interviewers were male, for the sole reason that female photographers and interviewers would be too stunned to continue at their job.

Not that the males rushing to get a shot of his face or a string of words out from him now weren’t stunned themselves.

Despite being hailed for looking like every woman’s wet dream, Lee Hyunjae was more known for being South Korea’s youngest first class F1 racer. Sure, if he ever bothered to utter a single syllable of speech to you, you could pass out on the spot.

But right now, all you wanted was to get an exclusive modelling contract from Louis Vuitton to his manager. Not Lee Hyunjae, not his bodyguards, his manager.

“Lee Hyunjae! Do you have anything you want to say before your final race of the season? How do you feel about being so close to coming out top?”

His manager stands a step behind him to Hyunjae’s right, and gives the racer the green light to respond. The flashes and sounds of clicking from the cameras were so overwhelming, it’s impossible for you to even imagine how it felt like being in the spotlight.

But the celebrity couldn’t receive the question any less gracefully, and offers one of those swoon-worthy smiles before leaning into the microphone.

“I feel nervous but I’ve prepared for this. Consistency is key and I believe in myself, so if that answers your question...”

“Do you have any other plan other than racing? Word has it that you’ve received offers to be the face of Gucci and Louis Vuitton!”

The contract in your briefcase is still ironed out safely in its file when you pull it behind your legs, away from plain sight.

Hyunjae turns to look at his manager when the question posed obviously isn’t one of those in the list prepared, so the manager steps forward, and coincidentally spots you at the back of the crowd. He recognises you from the meeting he had with your higher-up.

“My apologies but Mr Lee isn’t permitted to answer to any of these, so if this is all then we must be going. Thank you for coming to the conference tonight.”

Lee Hyunjae and his manager step back away from the microphone and bow for the press to continue their aggressive, merciless snapshotting. You wait patiently for the duo to disappear behind the conference area, and for the press to switch their attention to the pictures they have on their camera before you make your round backstage.

The 5-star hotel is grand in all the ways possible: chandelier, white wines and champagnes being served in waiting areas and water was served sparkling. Finally fishing out the tag that you were given at the registration for entry to the event, you hand it to the lady at the meetings’ conference registration counter.

You wonder how the Louis Vuitton logos on your clothes and briefcase had gone unnoticed earlier at the showcase. Even on the tag, the ‘LV’ logo was so apparent. How far does the company need to go in order for them to have the logo printed in some shiny, golden print on the tag-

“Welcome to the F1 internal press conference and meeting, Miss l/n!” She pulls a sticker off a page and presses it onto the tag below the LV logo. “If you need anything at all, please just approach one of our staffs. All waiters and staff concerned will have a red tie tonight.”

“Alright, thank you,” The tag gets slid across the table to you. “Where’s the nearest washroom?”

“Oh, she’ll show you the way,” The lady gestures behind her for one of the staff members with a red tie to accompany you.

“Oh-” Slightly taken aback by the aggressive escorting, the younger female grins at you before holding out her arm in the direction of the washroom. “Thanks.”

The hotel’s grandeur only gets more and more apparent as your heels click through the hallways and corridors. For an event night, the hotel’s pretty desolate. Then again, the press conference happened outside where all the photographers and journalists were. The one you were here for was an internal press meeting, and last you checked, there were fewer than 10 names on that list.

“I can find my way back to the main hall after,” The slight panic in your voice humors you when the staff member seemed ready to wait outside the washroom. “Thanks.”

She bows and takes her leave only after you enter the bathroom; you can tell from the sound of her shoes echoing down the corridor. The scent of lavender is so overwhelming, you could almost taste it. Walls of cream and silver strokes cut through the tiles, a vase made of bronze sits in the corner of the platform where the sinks were, filled with roses.

The crisp reflection of yourself stares down at you in the mirror; it’s one of the few times you were dressed in branded goods head to toe. None of the articles of clothing you were wearing right now, you owned. Usually, you’d be gaping in awe at how beautiful these places where - after all, you were in a five-star hotel in Italy.

But no, after almost five years of working with Louis Vuitton as a brand ambassador and subsequently becoming an assistant model-scout has numbed your habit of wandering eyes.

The LV briefcase gets set on a dry area of marble, your fingers automatically clutching the edges of the sink as the jewelry on your ears, neck and hands twinkle under the fluorescent lighting. The makeup looks close to perfect - because someone had done it for you. Your clothes and shoes fit right down to your skin - because they were tailored for you.

You were more upset you couldn’t sell it off and donate the money over having actual ownership of these fabrics.

News of the orphanage had reached you hours after you touched down in Italy, and your heart yearns to stop the ache that seeps through you. They had run out of funds to continue the orphanage, the kids already enrolled would be split and sent to other organizations instead.

What you had once called your home was going to be non-existent in another years’ time. Those whom you called your teachers, mentors, parents... were going to be in places you were not familiar with. The children that you always bring back food, clothes and toys for were going to be separated into different cities and states. As if not having a family was not bad enough, the people you now called your family was going to be split apart.

You hadn’t noticed your eyes were closed until you opened them, the weight of the makeup on your face urging you to rub your eyes and skin but the discipline written into your hands stop you from doing so.

Standing back to fix your posture, your eyes land on the one garnish on your body that doesn’t belong to Louis Vuitton - the ring on your middle finger. A gold band that looked more like a wedding ring than anything else.

It had the name of the orphanage engraved on the inner side, so it feels lighter on your hands than it would otherwise be.

A deep breath expands your chest as you take your briefcase and step away from the sink, attention scrutinising yourself more than you actually would.

The corridors of the hotel collect you back into its wealth again, drawing the thickest line between the realities of people like you and those who enjoy the luxurious life.

The racer’s manager was sitting at the end of the meeting table when you enter, and you immediately recognise half the list of names you had seen before. Gucci’s manager was here personally. Another racer and his manager were here too. Stefano Domenicali and Michael Masi were here.

Why were they here? Their names weren’t on the list.

“Ah, Miss l/n!” Masi gets off his seat and holds out his hand. “Such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Honor on my part,” Reaching out a palm, you smile the most graceful smile you can find in the muscles of your face.

“Can I get you a drink? We’re still waiting for Mr Lee before we begin our discussion on the collaboration.”

Collaboration?

“Pardon my ignorance but... I thought I was here for a sponsorship or a model-contract request for Mr Lee... I wasn’t expecting your attendance or... a collaboration.”

Domenicalli chuckles heartily at his seat as he whirls around to gesture to one of the staff members in the room. “Will you get her a Mojito?”

Then he stands up and pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. “We’ve been looking for a company that’s willing to do a three-way partnership with us and Mr Lee’s agency. Right now, it’s boiled down to both Louis Vuitton and Gucci so... it depends on which contract Mr Lee’s agency is more interested in.”

“Oh... Um, if that’s the case then I’m not entirely sure if the contract I have with me right now is appropriate-”

“Oh, it’s not. LV has already told us you’d sell them better unscripted than if planned,” Masi leans forward and mutters away from your ear. “Don’t tell Gucci though. Their manager’s only here because they panicked.”

He pulls away and before he can say anything else, the door clicks open with a staff member pushing the door open for the star of the night.

“My apologies,” He’s changed out of his formal suit and is in a more comfortable set of hoodie and baggy pants now. “Did I keep everybody waiting?”

“No, not at all!” Masi throws his hands up into the air and beckons you to meet Lee Hyunjae. “Might I introduce... Miss l/n from LV. She’ll be the one pitching the collaboration for LV today.”

Hyunjae’s eyes are wide and clear, despite his fringe covering his eyelids. “My pleasure,” He holds out his hand and you take it to shake, but he doesn’t stop there.

Lifting the back of your hand to his lips, the contact is soft and gentle on your skin.

Your hairs stand against your will and goosebumps erupt all over your neck when he pulls away, eyes now locked with yours. Nobody else in the room bothers to provide a reaction - it’s like he’s done this before and it’s perfectly normal.

The rest of the evening is spent listening to your own pitch, and Gucci’s, but you couldn’t really keep your head in the game when... all that was in Lee Hyunjae’s head was... you.

You’d be lying had you said you were comfortable with how much he was glancing at you across the table, obviously not listening to Gucci’s pitch at all. His manager was the one busy jotting down all kinds of things, almost like it was an act of dictation. But the racer’s eyes fail to leave you for any longer than five seconds, and it was becoming glaringly obvious that he wasn’t really paying attention to the pitch.

Gucci’s pitch finally finishes, giving you some kind of escape because now his manager is pummeling him for not listening to the benefits provided as Gucci’s ambassador. The contract document from LV was sitting before you, very single term and condition now inapplicable because you had just pitched something that wasn’t in the instruction manual.

God help me not to get fired.

“Mr Lee has some to a decision,” Masi claps his hands together, earning the attention of everybody in the room. “The Formula One federation would like to officially welcome Lee Hyunjae as the brand ambassador in a stellar collaboration... with Gucci.”

The Gucci ambassador scout smiles with triumph as the room provides a round of applause, you included.

“Thank you so much, Miss l/n, for coming down. Your pitch was nothing short of commendable and I will make sure your manager will hear of that, alright?” Masi and Domenicali take turns shaking your hand. In your peripheral vision, you watch the Gucci ambassador shake hands with both Lee Hyunjae and his manager.

Masi and Domenicali finish up with you, and Lee Hyunjae’s manager approaches you for the handshake with his client behind him. “That was a stellar... impromptu pitch, Miss l/n.”

A gentle chuckle rolls off your tongue as you pull your hand away, tightly clutching the briefcase. “I work better when things aren’t planned, so...”

“We’ll... we’ll keep in touch, LV. You’re an excellent scout with marvelous presentation skills. It makes me sad Mr Lee didn’t choose you.”

Your eyes drift to Hyunjae’s and he’s already looking at you like he hadn’t eaten in three days and you were a bowl of soup.

“Of course we’ll keep in touch. He’ll still be valuable asset and ambassador after his contract with Gucci ends,” Ignoring him, you return your attention to his manager.

“Now, let’s hope the Prince of Korea doesn’t screw anything up, yeah?” His manager grins as he pats Hyunjae on the back. “Anyway, it’s been a mighty pleasure. We’ll be in touch.”

You lower your head as a small nod, turning on your heels to exit the room. Even then you can feel his eyes on your back.

By the time you’re back in your hotel room (which was in the same hotel as you had the internal meeting), your feet are half dead from the heels you were wearing and the makeup on your face was starting to wear off. It took a nice, warm bath and a rather long conversation with your own manager on the phone as he congratulated on pulling through an impromptu pitch.

He finally finishes, and you drop your phone into the towel by the bathtub as the steam fogs up the mirror. But your peace is cut short when someone rings the doorbell of your room.

“Room service for Miss l/n!”

Tightening the robe around your waist, you pull open the door and watch the hotel staff hold out a bottle of wine and an envelop. “Mr Lee Hyunjae sends his regards, Miss.”

Surprised, you receive the bottle. The hotel staff bows and leaves, letting you turn around and the door click shut.

To: Miss l/n

I apologise for the inappropriate staring earlier this evening. This is an attempt to compensate for my behaviour. I’ll be leaving Italy the day after tomorrow so if you could do me the pleasure of having dinner with me tomorrow... I’d like to be acquainted.

I’ve made a reservation at La Terrazza for 7pm. I’ll meet you in the guest lobby downstairs at 6.30 to pick you up.

Love,

Lee Hyunjae

You can see how the material of the paper trembles a little between your fingers. The thought runs, So he’s a creep and a national treasure. He can’t hurt you, right?

Again, the evening gown is more than fitting on you. It’s been tailored to hug all your curves at your chest and your hips and thighs and it exposes your leg where the slit is. It’s like LV knew you had an important evening appointment coming up and had you pack all these different sets appropriate for the event.

The usher standing by the guest lobby nods when you head for the door, and he pushes it open to reveal only one person in it: Lee Hyunjae.

On the phone, he whirls around when he hears the doors swish against the carpet flooring. His eyes are glimmering under the soft, rosy lighting and the glossy collar of his suit looks like plastic from the reflection.

“I gotta go, I’ll call you back.”

The phone clicks to black before he opens his blazer and slides it into his inner breast pocket.

“I’m gonna guess that’s your manager,” Your fingers wrap around the clutch tightly as he takes a few steps toward you, obviously very stunned by how different you looked compared from the previous day.

“Uh, no, actually,” That million-dollar smile gleams at you. He reaches up to his forehead and scratches his brow. His hair is styled upwards so seeing the glory of his forehead was pretty enticing. “My mom. Making sure I’m doing well and fine here.”

He stops a safe distance away from you, finished with taking in whatever of you his eyes and memory can allow him. “Not gonna lie, I thought you were gonna stand me up.”

“I think LV would fire me if they knew I stood the Lee Hyunjae up.”

Hyunjae licks his lips then purses them together, attention finally peeling off your face as he reaches for your hand. He presses his lips into the back of your palm, then casually hooks your arm around his while he walks to your side. “Ready to go?”

At a loss of words for his flirtatious mannerism, all you can afford is a nod.

But as if your vocabulary bank wasn’t already exhausted, you can’t help but stare in complete astonishment when you are led to the matte black Sian Roadster already waiting at the drop-off point right outside the lobby.

“Have them send the Dior package to Miss l/n’s room by 9pm,” He instructs the bell boy by the hotel entrance as he reaches for the vehicle door.

“Wait, what?”

“Yes, Mr Lee.”

“Thanks.”

“Wait a minute,” Your vision is finally peeled off the car when Lee Hyunjae pulls the door open. “What Dior package?”

“Just a token of appreciation from me, that’s all,” He releases your arm as he guides you into the vehicle. “I knew if I gave it to you over dinner, you’d reject, so...”

Twitching his eyebrow, he smirks and retreats, closing the car door.

Flirt.

The vehicle moves off with a sharp rev of the engine, and you almost feel guilty for being able to be comfortable in in your clothes, shoes, sports car and on the way to a fancy-ass restaurant.

If only things could be like that for everybody and everything.

“So, when are you leaving Italy?”

“Oh, um... tomorrow too actually,” Rome’s lights are wondrous on the outside, some of them blinding you. “I have... something to attend.”

“Hmm, that’s... vague.”

You turn to eye him at his silent call for clarification. “I’m attending a closing event; help out with administrations.”

“Like... a pet store or something?”

“Yeah, ‘or something’.”

“That confidential, huh?” He lets out a soft chuckle.

The gut in your abdomen tells you not to look at him. He’ll see right through you, figure out that there’s something more to it than something ‘confidential’.

“Yeah,” You mask it with a sigh. “Funds and things.”

You can feel his attention sink into your back as silence befell the atmosphere.

There’s a kind of light in his eyes when he talks about racing. When he’s describing the feeling of adrenaline in his fingers, gripped around the steering wheel. He’s unexpectedly kind to the service at the restaurant, then again he was a celebrity and he had a reputation to uphold.

It’s the kind of light that made you panic throughout dinner, because there’s no way this specimen of a man would ever pay you a second thought. Maybe you were going to be his Italy fling that he would boast about to his friends and colleagues and they’d laugh at you without you even knowing.

What was a rich, handsome racer even doing, single? It was too good to be true, and even if it was, you? Of all people?

Dream on.

“It’s been... an amazing night. Thank you so much for dinner.”

Lee Hyunjae walks you into the lift, letting you press the button to your floor first.

“I’ll walk you back. I have time.”

Standing with your feet together, in the safety of your gown, your hands are holding your clutch like your life depended on it. You could tell that he wasn’t the most comfortable now, not with his hands over one another and placed politely on his abdomen.

When the lift door dings open, the silence remains. He trails behind you as you walk your way to your room, hands fumbling through your clutch to search for your keycard. The slick of the door is fast and you push the door open, with a black and silver box with the label ‘DIOR’ printed on it sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Oh, my God!” You rush in and grab the box, eyes widening as you turn to him, who has one arm extended to keep the door open. The box was almost as big as a pillow.

There’s a soft, warm smile on his face. A stark contrast to all his flirty ministrations throughout the evening. “Goodnight, Miss l/n. Sleep well and have a safe flight.”

“Wha-” Then he lowers his head, and turns around. “Wait!”

Without another moment of hesitation, he disappears down the corridor and the door swings shut.

It feels ironically empty. Your hands are carrying this Godforsaken box of a gift and yet you cannot think of a way to properly thank the person who gave it to you. With slight reluctance, your fingers find the edge of the cover.

It’s a beautiful Dior blazer, packaged with a perfume and a cosmetics set. The cream letter in it is handwritten and signed the racer himself.

I wish we had more time. Love, Lee Hyunjae

The nauseating sensation of your heart sinking in your chest beats all the logic in your brain when you find yourself reaching for the door handle. The box is mindlessly thrown back onto the bed as you rush out, kicking off your heels in the moment of folly. (Of course, remembering to use the door latch to keep the door open.)

“Hyunjae!” You call down the corridor, and he was just about to enter the lift. He turns, providing you with a gorgeous view of his jaw.

It feels like a fairytale, when you run down the carpeted corridor, barefooted and still in your gown. The urge to throw your arms around him far supercedes your brain yelling at you not to, but you do it anyway.

He catches you by the waist as your rest your forehead in his blazer, arms already struggling to meet the height of his shoulders.

A whisper. “I wish we had more time too.”

He pushes you back by your upper arms, tucking one bit of your hair behind your ear. “If time is what you want, then I’ll make time.”

“But... I- Will you get in trouble?”

He looks you dead in the eye and subtly shakes his head.

Time stops.

Fear. That’s what you’re feeling.

Then he tilts his head and slowly leans in.

“I don’t think I’d care if I do.”

His breath hits your upper lip and your instincts flutter your lids shut.

White wine and strawberries from dinner. That’s what he tastes like.

Warmth radiates off his palms and into your cheeks as he holds your face close to his, unable to resist the satisfaction and sweetness you were providing him. In this moment of intimacy, he loses all sense of realism and urgency - all he wants is you to himself, for the rest of the night until the sun rises.

Then he’d have to worry about never seeing you again because his manager had chosen Gucci over LV.

But right now, he has your heart and soul in his hands, as does his in yours.

Being the romantic and (probably) egoistic man of a celebrity he is, he lowers himself and slides his arms where the back of your knees would be, somehow never breaking the kiss. The material of the gown dribbles over the cotton of his suit and your arm circles behind his neck, only minimizing the distance between the two of you.

It feels like you’re getting married in this black and gold sparkly evening gown when he pushes the door open with his back. The scent of the room is inviting, but definitely none in comparison to the scent of his cologne beginning to stain your hands and your clothes.

Gently resting you into the cool sheets of the bed, he pulls away to remove the Dior package off the bed, placing it on the mini coffee table by the bed.

You were never one to deal with one night stands. Hell, the only person you’d ever slept with was some stupid kid back in the orphanage when your stupid teenage hormones were running-

He pulls off his blazer and leans in again, picking your awkward hands and resting them on the knot of his tie. His fingers are grazing the skin on your upper arm, trailing down to your cheek and then your hairline where he combs his hands through your hair.

The knot on the tie comes undone with some slight tugs, and you slide it out from under his collar. Undoing only the first one, you rest your palms against his chest, creating a small rift where the air rushes to your lips where his should be.

He’s slightly stunned at the slightest breakage, but he is overwhelmed with more care and concern than he was upset. “Why? What’s wrong?” He traces your jaw and rests his fingers on your chin, noses almost touching.

“Are you sure... You want to do this? I can’t risk you losing your career,” Your index finger traces the likes of his cheekbone. “You barely just started.”

Hyunjae shakes his head subtly, taking your hands to his lips and pressing them into the back of your palm. “When I saw you in that room, I was... star struck. You’d think being the celebrity in the room would mean everything, but I felt like I was nothing if I didn’t know you, much less be able to get close to you.”

And for someone who hasn’t really had a biological family to love, his words stuck.

“I just... knew. There are some things in the world you can work for, but I don’t think any amount of effort can give me you.”

His brown orbs find your gaze and it melts you thoroughly. Like ice cream on a hot day; like the way the ocean washes against the sand by the beach, taking grains of sand away with it - the same way Hyunjae was winning you bit by bit, if not already all of you.

Your hands find his collar again, and it tightens around the stiff material to pull him back down. He smiles into the kiss, hands pressing into the mattress by your hair while you undo the rest of his buttons. His skin is hot under the shirt, blood running on the adrenaline and tension he was riding on from the intimacy. Muscles pumped and heart racing, you finally get his shirt off and he does you the honor of dropping it to the ground.

He gives you time to gasp for air while he dips his nose into your neck, inhaling your perfume and the scent of the hotel shampoo in your hair. His back muscles tense up under your cold fingertips as you run them along his spine. It’s almost beast-like, when he flexes his arms and every single move shifts his shoulder blades under his skin. His lips leave gentle pecks in your neck and your exposed collar bone, letting goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

His hand caresses your waist as a way of request, and you arch your back just enough for him to find the zipper on the back of your gown. The vibrations of the zip being pulled downwards already feels like little bolts of electricity up your spine, and the straps around your shoulders loosen with every inch unzipped.

He’s done, when his fingers return to your shoulders to push the straps off. The cool air kisses your skin in spots where he isn’t touching with any part of his body. The silk of the gown gently slides off with every inch of a movement you make, more and more of your torso exposed to him.

Sliding one of his arms under your lower back, he pulls you out of the dress instead of stripping you of it as he helps you further up the bed. Your hands press into the mattress in a bid to help him shift yourself without breaking the sloppy, messy kiss. Your back finally meets the pillows and he pushes the gown off the bed with his leg.

Chin tilting to the ceiling, he finally creates some distance between the two of you, eyes drifting down to your collar bone and chest still covered. His palms are hot around your waist as he trails butterfly pecks on your cleavage, while your fingers find his hair to tousle and grip.

Goosebumps start to surface when his breath is heavy on your stomach, then he reaches your underwear and it’s almost embarrassing to have him kiss you.

Your clouded vision is manually stuck to the ceiling when you can feel your face burning with adrenaline. The tickle of the material when it gets pulled off your hips and down your legs bring your cheeks more color, and before you know it, Hyunjae has your breath hitched in your throat.

He rests your thighs on his shoulders as he works his way around, the bare minimum sanity left inside you decides to grip onto the sheets instead of ripping out his hair.

Chills shoot up your spine mercilessly, emanating in the form of lewd mewls directed into the air. The crown of your head meets the cushioned head board of the bed when his grip on your thighs tighten to keep you from squirming too much.

Without warning, he drags a finger down your sensitiveness and slides it in easily, the sensation erupting a more-than-shameful groan from you. Pulling away, he adds another finger before shifting his attention back to your upper body, now eyeing the last piece of material covering your chest. But he captures your lips first to earn your attention, and your arms naturally find your way around his neck to keep him close.

His free hand goes around your back to unhook your lingerie, and it’s nothing but a new addition to all the clothes on the carpet now. He removes his fingers, and breaks the kiss first, for the sole reason of giving you a perfect view of him licking his glistening skin.

You can feel your brows furrow with frustration now, the warmth from him dissipating when he leans back on his heels in a kneeling position. By providing you a gorgeous view of his being while he undoes his belt, he’s only adding more fire to the fuel.

It’s significant enough to stretch out the material of his boxers, and so he climbs over you as he removes his last bit of clothing. He harshly yanks you downwards into a lying position by your ankle, and the sharp friction against your back is an addition to the heat between the two of you.

His breath is heavy on your lips as he rests his palms by your ears, weight pushing in the mattress. “Tell me if it hurts, love.”

Then he presses his lips into yours, like his life depended on it, and in one swift motion, he buries himself inside you like it was the most natural thing to do.

You suck all the breath out of him as you gasp into the kiss, and he finds your arms to hook around his neck and shoulders.

If you could feel the taste of honey throughout your body, this must be how it feels.

He gives you some moments before he starts grinding his hips slowly, his palms finding your thighs and digging into your flesh as he hooks them around his hips.

Breathless, you pull away first, whimpers in the back of your throat louder than what you would’ve expected. His nose dips into your neck again, arms now stretched out to use the headboard as support when he picks up the pace.

Cursing under your breath, you feel guilty for the bliss that was spreading through you. Your nerves are all heightened by the adrenaline and your vision is blurred from the sole nature of the intimate act.

He’s not fast, but every spot he’s hitting feels like cloud nine over and over again.

Like a spark in the dark, the sacred spot reveals itself in the form of harsher breaths and groans. Your fingernails dig into his back and your thighs are losing stamina to remain wrapped around him.

“That’s it,” He breaths into your ear, pressing a kiss into your lower jaw. “Come for me.”

Tremors burst through your body like lightning in a storm upon his request. He helps you ride it out with a few more thrusts before he pulls out himself, releasing on your stomach, chest heaving.

Resting his forehead on yours, he smiles. “Let’s hope that one day I wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out.”

You scoff, slightly tired. “We’ll see.”

You are woken up by the unfamiliar warmth you normally don’t have under the blanket. White sheets and tousled hair come into your field of vision before you can process the face, partially hidden, but eyes wide open.

“Jesus,” Your morning breath billows out between your lips and you swallow to dampen your dry throat. The room looks too damn bright for it to be morning. “What time is it?”

“7am. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time. My manager hasn’t called me so... we have time to spare.”

You shuffle around under the sheets and your arms slide under the pillow where its cool. He shifts and pulls out his arm to rest on his tricep, palm under his ear and hair as he perches up his head.

“What?” You pull the blanket up to your face and inhale the scent of it. It smells like him now.

“You look pretty when you’re asleep.”

“What?” You frown, but a smile is on your lips. “How long did you watch me sleep for?”

“Not long, don’t worry. I’m not a perv.”

“Well, considering we just slept together after 24 hours of knowing one another-”

“Hey, we’re both about to be deported back to Korea to work. Give us a break, would you?” He groans and shifts again, this time trying to pull you into his chest.

“Ah,” Snorting, you let him cradle you in his arms, his bare skin pressed warmly into yours. “‘Deport’? That’s what you call your job?”

“Only because you’re involved now,” He pecks you on the lips. “So... can I ask about your ‘administrative matters’ you said you needed to attend?”

Right. The orphanage is closing down.

The guilt washes through you again.

“Oh,” A look of seriousness overtakes your facials, and he notes the change in expression. “Um... I- Well... It’s an orphanage. It’s closing.”

He blinks at you, gaze filled with wander. “Were you a volunteer or...?”

Silence.

You can’t bring yourself to say it.

Unable to bear the incoming judgment he might provide you, your eyes dart away.

“Hey, hey,” He finds your chin and tilts it back up to his attention. “What’s wrong? I don’t see anything wrong with being who you are. Why are you ashamed?”

“I... I’ve lived all my life with that label. ‘Orphan’. It only got better when I came out to work.”

“Is that why you are so worried? That... we might affect something and possibly implicate that?”

“Maybe.”

He sighs, thumb stroking your cheek as he shakes his head. “Nah. It shouldn’t matter.” Pulling your head into his chest, you can hear the steady thumping of his heart through his skin. “’Administrative matters’, huh? Are you like a... committee member or donator?”

“I’m an unofficial sponsor ambassador from LV. Well, LV was supposed to arrange for official funding, but they just never really had the time or resources to build the rapport. The orphanage was doing too badly for any company or brand to want to help and invest their attention on.”

“Mm,” He hums, stroking your hair. “I’m sorry about that. I truly am.”

“It’s okay. Nothing could’ve been done about it anyway. All I hope now is for the kids to be safe, no matter where they go.”

It feels empty again, having Hyunjae being ripped from your side at the airport once the plane touched down. The manager was surprisingly not surprised to know that you had spent the night together, the only question he had asked being something that concerned a future pregnancy, which the two of you have already confirmed negative.

It’s late when you reach back your apartment, and you ready yourself for the private meeting with the committee members of the orphanage. Though tired and severely jet-lagged, you cannot miss this meeting. It’s the last time you’ll see all the caretakers and members of the organisation in the same room.

You shift into the taxi in a new set of clothes, but topped with the Dior blazer and smelling like the Dior perfume, you feel like you were probably going to get slapped once you reach the meeting.

The building of the orphanage looks so run-down, it could be mistaken for a prison had it not been for the words HILDA’S ORPHANAGE in big, block letters above the entrance. Before you can exit the taxi, your phone starts vibrating in your purse.

It’s the President of the orphanage.

“I’m right outside the building, going in soon,” You push open the car door and thank the driver.

“The meeting has been cancelled. Someone bought the orphanage and we’ll be managed under a new system.”

“What?”

“Surprise.”

You turn around and see the last person you’d expect to see here, in his hands, a folder of documents and a small bouquet of flowers.

“Um,” Your eyes are stuck to Hyunjae, but you’re still on the phone. “The buyer... Does it have anything to do with Gucci or F1?”

“Yes, it’s an F1 sponsorship but there will be more details into the managerial and planning system. Some things will have to change.”

“I’ll... I’ll call you back.”

Hyunjae watches you lock your phone in shock, attention unrivalled. He takes a few steps towards you and you now realise he’s still in the same clothes he was in on the plane. His eyebags are obvious but the prideful grin on his face makes him glow.

Stopping about an arms’ length away from you, he holds out the folder.

“I checked with my manager and he checked with F1. They green-lit it, but on a few conditions. I heard them out before I told them it would be more likely than not you’d accept it, so here are the legal documents. All the terms and conditions and sponsor contract are already in here, so you and the President can sign it when you deem fit.”

Taking the folder, you didn’t even notice your hands are trembling as you flip through it.

But your eyes flitter up from the page when you notice the printing:

OWNER’S SIGNATURE (Y/N L/N): ____________________

“It’s yours if you sign it.”

Now, he holds out the bouquet. “I thought of putting it under my name but I don’t want you to think you owe me a favour and have it bugging you all the time.”

Gently shaking your head, as if you could shake out the surprise, you close the file and look to him in awe. “But I’ll still owe you, big time. This is... this is everything, so thank you.”

He sucks in a deep breath and shakes the bouquet of flowers a little.

“You can return the favour by going out with me. Properly, whenever I have time, and I promise, no Dior packages.”

Taking the bouquet into hand, you throw your arms around his shoulders, tears welling in your eyes.

#hyunjae #lee hyunjae #hyunjae smut #tbz smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hyunjae #lee hyunjae smut #tbz scenarios #the boyz scenarios #hyunjae scenario #hyunjae fanfic

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qs63 · 1 year ago

Text

Oh this is a great comment.

You're absolutely right there is no canonical age for Riza other than us knowing she's around Roy's age but younger than Roy (from the use of honorifics).

I actually base the idea of Riza being around 16 at the time of Berthold dies on the OVA "Yet Another Man's Battlefield". There, Roy is 18 when he joins the military academy and everyone we are shown (including Hughes) seems to be around the same age as Roy. We also see Roy's upper classmate (meaning there's more than 1 year of academy) and we see that Roy has graduated and is a Warrant Officer when Berthold dies which Brotherhood dates as 1905 putting Roy at around 20 years. So the military academy is only two years long.

Now, we know Riza was still in the academy in 1908 during Ishval thanks to Hughes, that's three years after her father's death. If she had joined the military right after Berthold's death she would have been graduated. So Riza should have more than a year since enrolling in the military (because I doubt they would send a freshman to the battlefield, if anything for lack of training), but less than two years (or she would have graduated). If we assume she joined at 18 just like Roy and Hughes, perhaps due to an age restriction, she would be 19 during Ishval and 16 at the moment of Berthold's death. Be as it may that coincides with the age given by the 03 complete book: side story.

Of course I could be wrong and she could be younger or older, and I should have clarified that. That's my bad. That doesn't change much of the analysis, Riza could be as young as 14 at the time of Berthold's death and she would still have completed Meiji Era elementary school education. She could be older and the same would be true.

Meiji Japan was all about modernization with a heavy emphasis on westernization. One of the things they did was make sure everyone could have access to elementary school (age 6-14) even in the rural areas. They were very good at achieving this and these elementary schools served as a platform for indoctrinating the Japanese people during the Imperial Japan era (hello WWII). The same seems to be true for Amestris as Resembool which is VERY rural had a school even during a civil war. It makes sense too. They're a military dictator ship, schools are great places to promote ultra nationalistic and pro-militaristic ideas (hello pre-Ishval Roy and Riza).

People back then rarely went beyond elementary school and only 4 years of those were mandatory, so even graduating elementary school was proper education unless you were aiming for university to be a doctor or such. It is said secondary schools were mostly academies to prepare people for university and almost exclusively reserved for middle and upper class peers. I saw that only 11% of graduated boys and 5% of graduated girls attended higher education. Even if Riza only completed schooling from 6 to 14 that is still a good education, unless she wanted to go to university.

Now regarding the boys and Winry... Winry is there in the photo you linked. She's the kid sleeping behind the book. We also see her going back home from school with the boys a few panels later.

Ed can't be 11 here. He became a State Alchemist at 12 on 1911, a year after the failed human transmutation. Ed had already lost his limbs at age 11. The school scenes also happen in between the brothers leaving and returning from Izumi's, and we actually know the year for this because we see a flier saying the civil war is over, so this is late 1908.

The last time we see any school panel is right before the transmutation so the boys would be around 10-11, 9-10, that complies with the 4 years compulsory elementary school education system.

I do hope this clarifies things a little bit more, and I'm sorry for the confusion about Riza's age.

I've been thinking about this panel a lot and what kind of education Riza and Roy (and the other characters) received.

We only ever see the main trio going to school, and even that timeline is confusing as the brothers leave with Izumi when they're 10 and 9, and we see Winry working with her grandma from an equally young age.

So what does "a good education" mean in the world of FMA?

To answer this, I decided to look into what must have been Arakawa's influence for the FMA educational system: Meiji Era Japan.

Unsurprisingly the structure of the Meiji era education seems to fit Fullmetal Alchemist.

Meiji era Japan had a compulsory 4 years elementary school system (later expanded to 6 compulsory years) for kids aged 6-14. Only a small portion of elementary school graduates from the upper and middle class continued on to five-year academic secondary schools for boys or five-year secondary schools for girls; the majority entered the labor force or to two-year higher elementary schools. [1]

In FMA this would mean the brothers must have only completed the 4 years of compulsory elementary school, and then left to study alchemy with Izumi. Same for Winry, who seems to have started working with her grandma around the time the boys left.

When Riza says her dad made sure she received a good education, that would mean that at the very least he had her complete all 8 years of elementary school. But considering the timeline (Berthold dies when Riza is 16) and her emphasis on good education, it is likely he also had her complete the 2 years (from age 14-16) of higher elementary school.

Mind you, free compulsory education only became a thing in Japan after 1900, and the fees for education seem to have been high enough that people complained. For a poor family like the Hawkeyes a good chunk of their money must have gone to Riza's education.

In the case of Roy we have less information about his childhood, but it's very likely he also completed all 8 years of elementary school since there is no indication he started alchemy training as early as the brothers, and his aunt seems wealthy enough to afford paying the fees.

Whether Roy attended higher elementary school is a harder question to answer, but I'm leaning towards him not going beyond the initial 8 years of elementary school.

From what I read, science was mostly left to secondary school education in Meiji era Japan, and we know Roy didn't attend the 5 years secondary school as he was studying under Berthold in his late teens. Still, Roy would need a solid base of scientific knowledge to start his alchemy studies, which elementary school wouldn't provide. It's more likely that Roy studied science by himself after he completed elementary school until he had the basis to become Berthold's alchemy apprentice.

Let me know your thoughts and speculation about their education. 😄

#fma meta

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dantelionwishes · 3 years ago

Photo

life is full of ups and downs downs downs downs dow

loredump under the cut. not kidding when I say its gonna be long!

oh shit you actually clicked keep reading thank you for your interest 😭😭😭

YOU KNOW THE DRILL tw // suggestive dont read ahead if youre uncomfortable with the topic of aphrodisiacs!

MIDDLE SCHOOL

before anything, I gotta explain he was born to parents who had an infatuation quirk (makes them hardcore fall in love with you) and an infection quirk (transmits a virus via saliva)

developed his quirk late, since they usually get it by the time kids are four

most people knew him as quirkless before the first incident

in middle school, his class was preparing for a school play, he and his classmate got cast as the main lead prince and princess

coincidentally, they both had a crush on each other and had a scene where they kissed

technically they weren’t supposed to, since its just a play, but one time they were practicing in private and wanted to try kissing “for real”

so they shared a super giggly cute middle school first kiss but well UNFORTUNATELY FOR HIM HIS QUIRK HAD WELL DEVELOPED–

BADABING BADABOOM YOU HAVE AN IMAGINATION USE IT

the only way for the quirk’s effects to go away is to come at least once or pleasuring yourself until it goes away

I DO NOT WANT TO IMAGINE IT BUT. IMAGINE BEING A TEACHER AND FINDING A MIDDLE SCHOOLER WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING TO HER AND AN ADULT IS FORCED TO TELL HER HOW TO MAKE IT GO AWAY LLLLIKE–

rip now that I’m thinking abt it, I don’t even think anybody would even kNOW HOW TO MAKE IT GO AWAY so lets imagine she painfully stays that way until they figure out how to make it stop :^(

there’s a big fight that happens between the teachers, principal, and parents of both parties

of course the crush’s parents got mad and called their kid a fuckin uhhhhh sexual predator or some shit despite also beING THE SAME AGE AND NOT EVEN KNOWING ABT HIS OWN QUIRK LIKE HELLLO

obviously an incident like this is going to spread like wildfire but the principal does not want something like this to leak, especially since it was not on purpose and was a total accident

the other kid’s parents and some teachers did not feel comfortable however, and sato was forced to drop out

but not wanting to spread the gossip about their son’s quirk and the incident, they leave the town and move someplace else

thankfully, the principal gives the sato family his good grades and a recommendation to a decent highschool for the trouble

they’re originally from osaka, but moved to tokyo

this is where they start taking precautions with sato, basically teaching him to be careful with his saliva

it was easily taught and learned esp since the mom was already like that around him and others everyday anyway!! she has to take care of her saliva-based infection quirk, after all

HIGH SCHOOL

he got enrolled into a regular highschool in tokyo

no hero course, no support course, no business, just a regular ol’ school

if before, he loved surrounding himself with people, this was where he was forced to develop a lonely disposition to protect himself and others

at least his parents were very protective and supportive of him and they were generally a happy family!

but in school, pretending to be quirkless was just as difficult, getting bullied or pitied for having no special abilities

his excuse for wearing a mask all the time was because his mother had a virus-related quirk, and had to be careful

one day his dad was suddenly got really, really sick

the more he had an excuse to wear a mask because he didnt want to get whatever disease his father started to develop

sato started thinking it could be his mother (but why?) the results didn’t say anything about an unknown virus killing him (which is his mom’s quirk), and that his father really did contract a strong yet very normal disease

while on his second year in highschool, his father, yozo sato, died

apparently, without him knowing anything about his parents, his mother, oba sato, was actually under the dad’s infatuation quirk this whole time

she realised she wasn’t really in love with him when oba had accidentally allowed a drop of her saliva to fall into the meal she was making him, making him sick, and therefore making him weak enough to deactivate his quirk on her

oba, back in her college years, wanted to marry someone else but yozo, who had a crush on her wanted her to himself, used his quirk to make him fall in love with her

so in revenge for making her put up with him all these years to the point of marriage and having a kid, she continued to do this to his food

her quirk doesn’t make anybody sick enough to die, but it made her husband’s immune system weak enough to the point that it contracted a real, serious disease which he ended up dying from instead

sato only finds out the real story when he graduates from highschool, days right after his graduation the mom confesses it all

she does say she truly loves him, but can’t stay around him knowing he was technically “unconsensual love”

sato gets reminded of what his quirk does, and true enough, that’s what him and his quirk turned out to be (a sick combination of his mom and his dad)

they cant bear to be around each other after that revelation and decide to just not see each other again

COLLEGE YEARS

he enrolls into an education course, inspired by the kind principal who helped him finish his middleschool-highschool education when it all started going downhill

sato struggles paying for his college fees esp since he doesn’t exactly have his parents supporting him anymore, nor any contact with immediate family

he has a lot of part time jobs that go all around the clock, he continues pretending to be quirkless so he gets bullied, and has to deal with all that emotional baggage plus being alone so…….clearly my man is TIRED as hell

his side job hustles include: convenience store cashier, bookstore attendant, bar bouncer, and rookie gym trainer (he went to the local gym long enough for him to get recommended a job as a trainer)

college was that point where he starts developing a hardcore yearning for a companion because oh my god hes so lonELY (but cant)

ANYWAY SO

there’s this bully guy who always picks on him in college (for being “quirkless” and a loner and overall a fuckin weirdo with a mask)

tbh sato doesnt really give a shit he’s so used to it but he doesnt have his mother as an excuse to wear the mask anymore, this is where he starts forming the “I have bad breath” excuse

“口臭い” (kuchi kusai) translates to “bad breath” or “stinky mouth” so sato unlovingly gets nicknamed “kusato”

one day he’s walking around the campus at night and finds the bully with his gang cornering another quirkless student, with plans of assaulting her

sato was never the hero type, and was about to ignore the commotion as to not get involved, but something in him moved on its own and he found himself face to face with the gang

he confronts them, but the bully mocks both him and the girl for not having powers to stop them anyway

SIKE BITCH sato’s able to easily strike the other two guys, knock them off their feet enough to be able to tug the to-be victim aside, telling her to report them, before asking her to run away as fast as she can

none of the guys want that (they’re all students) so they have a full on brawl (and this isnt hero academy, its a totally normal university so I wouldn’t assume these guys had very impressive quirks)

except the main bully actually has a pretty decent quirk (he’s like a kinda half human half dragon with sharp claws, scales, and dragon eyes) and gets to injure sato with his sharp claws, seriously injuring his face

a part of his ear is also sort of sliced off, which is how his mask gets accidentally removed in the process

the dragon bully grabs him by the collar and starts angrily shouting at him for ruining his night, being able to do all this shit without a quirk and all and all other derogatory speech

“Well? what do you have to say for yourself?!“

Sato stays silent before spitting right into the bully’s mouth

The bully drops him immediately, about to angrily fuck him up for doing something super fucking gross but WHOOP WHOOP YOU KNOW WHATS BOUTTA HAPPEN the quirk works immediately and the bully is a TOTAL MESS on the ground

Im going to TLDR this part cos its…obviously nsfw but like: sato fully embarrasses him in public (beside the bully’s two colleges nonetheless)

sato stays in the hospital for some time to heal from his wounds

fortunately, afterwards, the bullies all get expelled

unfortunately for sato, he also gets expelled for engaging in bad behaviour, and the bully did say what happened to him (and the college principal did not want his…dangerous quirk on campus) so as to lower any incident, all four were expelled

at least without having to pay for college fees anymore, he could fully focus on paying for food, shelter, and clothes

minus of course the hospital bills needed to pay plus he got a sick ass scar from it anyway HAHAHAHA BSDJHJRHDHF

ADULT LIFE

he had a lot of jobs here and there, but was more or less doing best as a trainer at a local gym where people weren’t allowed to use their quirks and strengthen their body regularly

a few years went by and he eventually shrugged off everything that happened in his final college years but one day someone familiar walked into the gym! It was the fellow college student he saved!!!

she became a policewoman who wanted to get stronger in this quirkless friendly gym and hadn’t given up on her dreams of being a “hero,” inspired by how sato saved her that day

sato never really saw himself as some hero, he was left many nights alone thinking about how easily he could become a villain with his quirk, so hearing that really made him happy

he trains her as her gym coach and she eventually asks him to join her patrol this small part of the city from a gang that was currently going around doing crimes since he’s good at it anyway, saying she could use some extra hands hehe

so yeah!! he does this side gig with her where he patrols alongside her looking for gang crimes and such c:

AND ONE DAY. [WISTFUL SIGH] ONE DAY. HE FINDS SOMEBODY GETTING MUGGED BY A GANG MEMBER AND SAVES………A CERTAIN MAN–

thank you for reading all the way here!!!

feel free to ask for questions or for any clarifications 😭😭😭!!!!!!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha oc comeback #mha #bnha oc #mha oc #lionhe(art)#I know I havent exactly written stuff from meeting toshinori onwards #but thats for another day!!#I only ever wrote Sato's backstory pre meeting all might #yet all I drew as a teen was them as a couple lMAOOO #idk if anyone would wanna read that but honestly iM SURE THE STUDENTS WANT THAT SPICY RELATIONSHIP INFO JHSDJGHAJHJK #my 17-year old self would have been happy in my place ;;3;; !!!!!#i finally got to share his lore!! that was a lot so if you seriously read it all thank you so much aaaaaaaaaaaa #Osamu sato-sensei

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lantsovsupremacist · 3 years ago

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I was wondering if you could do a Nikolai fic w a Tidemaker reader who works for him on the Volkvony ?

whenever i read nikolai stuff, i imagine his girl to be a tide maker. so, of course it’s my honor to make this happen 🙏🙏 also i got carried away and there will most certainly be a part 2 🤪🤪

mijn dochter: my daughter (i went with dutch because that’s what kerch is supposedly influenced by)!

nikolai lantsov: mirror ball

it all began out of desperation, as most things in your life often did.

born into a family of ten living on the farmlands of kerch, there were always too many mouths to feed. despite the nature of your family’s occupation, whatever could be harvested or slain for food often ended up sent to the markets to try and keep up with the land payments. it was this necessity to help your family (an expectation of yourself as the middle child as much as your younger siblings) that kept you from attending school the day testing occurred. considered the bottom of the lowest class, nobody deemed you important enough to reschedule a test or even find you a spot for the next year’s round.

you believed the position of the testers. it was not because you felt particularly unimportant, just that there was no history of grisha in your family or few you had ever come into contact with. in fact, watching the older kids get tested was your only example of grisha power. a lack of suitable education did not help your case. so, you disregarded the event or lack thereof quickly after it passed.

however, when you pulled the tide in to help the withering crops survive one summer—out of sheer desperation—you could no longer ignore the possibility. the land only needed to close in to the sound by a few feet in order for the water to saturate the fields properly. it could have been a trick of a weary mind. you might not have even realized what had happened if not for your father’s startled gasp.

he muttered a single word, grisha. anything else was unintelligible under his breath—likely a slew of curses. he had even less of an education than you and your siblings. for months, you pleaded for your parents to pretend as if nothing had changed. your oldest brother knew the word for it: tidemaker. one of his best friend’s at school, their older sister had been one. but, she had been taken away. you could not imagine leaving your fields and the sun that hung above them.

you did not want to be a danger to your family, what with the way in which discovered grisha were treated in kerch’s cities. you could only hide for so long. in addition to this worry, you believed by using this resource, you could find better pay to send home. it was not the second army you desired to join but perhaps, some freelance work.

the volkvony was much larger than the scattered fishing boats dotting the coast. even those you saw rarely, the docks being miles outside your town. the pirateer’s vessel and those occupying it radiated power. the reminder of your own ability did little to ease your anxiety.

you mother’s final parting words rang in your head, and you held onto the echo for as long as you could.

“you are a fierce force to be reckoned with, mijn dochter.”

right now with your knees knocking and shoulders shaking, you hardly felt it. your mother often remarked you showed courage in different ways. you might have paled at standing up to the bully that had broken your sister’s arm as a child and allowed your eldest brother to physically retaliate, but your calm nature quieted her cries as you held her gently, waiting for help. you knew that even when he did not verbally express it, your father still appreciated how you took it upon yourself to care for the little ones, handle the crises at home. you made life work for everybody.

your littlest brother, espen, would think you were strong despite the obvious nerves riddling your form. before you left, he hugged you goodbye with all of the strength his two-year-old body could muster, imbuing you with it. his childlike magic satiated any apprehension that came your way on the voyage to the boat’s docking in ketterdam—a city’s whose reputation limited your visits to three occasions in eighteen years. and when it faded, because it always did, you held tight to baby noa’s fairly like giggles, each one of her accompanied smiles locked carefully away in your heart.

even with living a life largely locked on land, the water brought a unique sense of calm to your restless spirit. to any onlooker, your closed eyes and deep breaths by the banks could be attributed to the anticipation of adventure. however, anyone who truly knew your heart would understand the greater impact of the tides. they might even notice the slight curl of your lip or scrunch of your nose, the actions of concentration supporting the delicate ripples of waves on the edge of the sound.

a voice from behind you nearly caused you to jump right off of the dock. one might think that growing up in a household of ten, you would be painfully aware of your surroundings. that could not be father from the case. you did not intend to walk through life stuck in your own head, but it was a habit.

“we’re boarding now,” the same person spoke again, “you’re our new tidemaker, right?”

“that’s right,” you annunciated softly with a nod of your head.

now having stepped forward, you identified the figure to be a girl a few years your elder. with short cropped hair and a glint in her eyes, she intimidated you. however, her tone was kind and seemed welcoming.

“i’m tamar and that,” she extended a hand to point, “is my brother toyla. heartrenders.”

you nodded again, rolling your lips into your mouth. following behind her, you strung your bag over your shoulder and avoided the more worn planks on the dock. the wood was speckled with age.

“how long have you been in the harbor?” you questioned, genuine curiosity in your words.

“only a few days,” she replied without turning her head, opting to keep her gaze ahead as she weaved through the crowd, “ketterdam intrigues sturmhond, but he never keeps us here for too long.”

recognizing the captain’s name who had graciously offered you a position onboard the volkvolny only two days prior, you continued after tamar. you remembered his crooked jaw and nose that had obviously been broken before. however, the ease of his smile and light in his eyes gave you the push to accept. he had approached you in the spot which you had stood only this morning and caught you in a similar position. he had been uniquely attentive.

the way he revealed that he had caught onto your ability with the ripples in the shallow water still caught you by surprise and perhaps, amusement. he had asked you to help him skip a rock. you smiled at the memory now, a small but authentic one only for yourself.

“are all of the hands grisha?” you asked another question, careful to lower your voice.

home to various brothels, pleasure houses, and gambling dens, as well as gangs, ketterdam could trap grisha in servitude if they were not vigilant. this and the general boisterous nature of the city were largely your reasons for avoiding it. you preferred the tranquility and predictability of the countryside, where all that stood out among the plains were the occasional rolling hill and far away slopes of mountain.

your older brother coen studied in the most acceptable part of the city on a scholarship, the only one of your siblings (including yourself) that showed enough intellectual promise to merit pursuing an education over farm work. the only other member of your family to dare encounter the barrel was lotte. given she was now estranged and likely involved in gang work, her possible presence did little to soothe you.

“oh, no,” tamar answered, “in fact, most aren’t. we try and keep it quiet.”

humming in response, you used the handrail to board the ship. you took a deep breath to quell any remaining anxiety. once your feet touched the hull, there would be no room for fear or at least, any expression of it. you were used to keeping to yourself, your head down and hands working.

the salt air filled your lungs easily, and you were greedy for more. it left a pleasant enough taste in your mouth. you realized you were content here and wondered if you might even find happiness on the ship.

after showing you to the quarters you would share with two other girls, you straightened your cot and placed your bag underneath it. you made quick work of braiding your hair back, pacing the room as you did so. there was work to be done, and you would be sure to see to it.

grounding yourself to steady the spinning of the room, you faced your things one more time and headed out to the deck above. for once, you were surrounded by people like you. while this did not quite give you confidence, there was a semblance of reassurance flickering in your heart.

you no longer needed to be perfect for everyone else. though your family was still largely your responsibility as they would receive a portion of your wages, you no longer had to pace your interactions with each member. if you wanted to, you could be as loud and lively as the rest of the crew surely was. scrunching your nose at the thought, you stepped by an empty crate and up the stairs. you liked being quiet. it gave you the headspace to observe others.

a long life of making the lives of your younger siblings and parents easier gave you little time to think for yourself or about yourself. maybe this adventure was all a farce to finally please yourself, to learn to believe in yourself, but you had forced it to be about the others. always placing the focus away. that was an easier story to believe rather than accepting that maybe, you were doing something for yourself and maybe, that was okay.

perhaps it should have made you nervous, but you were a shy version of excited at the idea of testing out each variant of yourself to see which one you believed in most. you had shown everyone else what they wanted or needed to see for many years. you needed to live for yourself now.

you had a right to the sea and you were determined to take advantage of it.

#nikolai lantsov imagine #sab netflix #sab fic #six of crows #shadow and bone fic #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov #rule of wolves #tidemaker #the grisha series #grishaverse #grisha netflix #tamar yul bataar #toyla and tamar #ketterdam #nikolai lanstov imagines

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sneverussape · 3 years ago

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What kind of person do you think lily was? There's a lot said about her in the series, but i have trouble reconciling pure, shining paragon lily with someone who would marry someone that spent years tormenting her friend, 4 on 1.

ooh boy this will be a LOT. i can't even promise it will be coherent but i'll make an attempt to be. (going under a cut to save us all the grief).

first off, i think it's fair to state that one of the biggest drawbacks of lily's character is how she was written. she is a plot device. she exists to boost other characters’ narratives: she's simultaneously the Rich Boy's trophy wife, the self-sacrificing mother of the Boy Who Lived, the best friend slash lost love of the Fallen Hero, and, at the same time, also no one at all. lily is a character with little to no background and character development that she can barely stand on her own two feet without any of the associated (usually male) characters to prop her up. it absolutely sucks but that's how it is. that's how jk wrote her.

given that and working with the scraps that we do have, my opinion of lily is...complex. i try to give her justice by trying to understand her context, the workings of her mind, and the possible pressures she was subjected to, but it can be challenging especially since lack of canon pushes you into a space where you have to put them in Either/Or situations. my opinion of her has also changed as i got older. when i was younger (i read the books waaaay back, as they were getting released in fact) i only saw her as an extra character (i was most interested in snape, if that's not obvious enough, but neither did i think snape was 'obsessed' with her as a lot of hp fans now think). i saw her and snape as good friends who had had a falling out, and that he'd probably had a crush on her at some point, and it got naturally overtaken by guilt etc when she died. then when i reread some chapters containing her, i was quick to put her in the Bad Friend camp. i don't think that now. i think that she, like snape, was a complex human being who made a lot of questionable decisions but shouldn't be entirely vilified for them.

my main thoughts of her that are kind of built on material from canon as well as what jkr has said herself:

- she was not posh. she grew up in cokeworth, in the same town as severus. i don't think she was middle class as a lot of fics portray her. i think the evanses were slightly better off than the snapes but they were all working-class, and living was a day-to-day struggle. the kids spoke in the local accent, their clothes were all worn and patched over, there were no green spaces or public infrastructure for kids to safely play in, and they were all mostly running wild about the town since all their parents had to work. food was something to be thankful for because there was never enough, and sometimes they had to share with their neighbors. that's the kind of setting i think lily and severus grew up in, although severus suffered abuse on top of it all. it's possible that lily did too because of the setting (post-world war 2, poverty, adults dealing with repressed trauma from the war, etc) and it wouldn't even be that surprising if she had been;

- she and petunia got along fairly well up until the point lily found out she was a witch and, as a result, became friends with severus. it's stated in canon that petunia had also wanted to attend hogwarts with them, going as far as writing to dumbledore to allow her admittance. her jealousy upon his rejection had festered and grown into outright hate that she projected onto harry as an adult, but i don't doubt that she continued to love lily even after her death and despite how she treated harry. i think as kids they had stuck together and were very close, but magic had torn them apart. suddenly lily had a world of her own that petunia wasn't welcome in, and that would have hurt. pottermore stated lily attended vernon and petunia's wedding or engagement party but james made a right mess of it. i think lily TRIED to maintain their relationship but external factors always got in the way. i don't doubt she had also loved her sister very much;

- i don't think she had any other friends. she may have had a lot of acquaintances but i think her only real friend, the one who saw her for who she really was, was severus, and i think, at a certain point in their lives, she saw that as a weakness and resented it;

- i think, from the interactions we saw in canon of lily with other people, that lily had a penchant to please people, especially the ones who ranked higher than her in terms of power dynamics - petunia (who was the older sister), professors (sluggy comes to mind, the head of slytherin with a lot of connections), even the marauders whose actions she defended. it's not necessarily a bad thing, but i've always seen it as her being borderline manipulative. i noted that she wasn't the same with severus (based on their conversations, especially the ones in 5th year, before SWM) because he's lower than her in a lot of aspects, being a slytherin and quite likely of a lower social standing. she could boss him around and tell him to piss off and he probably wouldn't have minded. she actually strikes me as someone who could have been in slytherin; a perfect arrangement, save for the fact that she was a muggleborn. i think lily knew her place and the cards she was dealt with more than anyone, but she was also determined not to stay there;

- this brings me to the point as to why she ever went out with james potter in the first place. i think her friendship breakup with severus was inevitable because they were in the middle of a burgeoning war and both of them were being pulled to opposite and opposing ends. as an added complexity, i think she also wanted to be better than being muggleborn lily evans of cokeworth, best friend of the evil greasy slytherin git, and her way out was to associate with housemates who were in the upper echelons of power. like, we don't even know what her life was like in gryffindor tower. ron was poor, but he was also a pureblood, so that may have saved him from ridicule. but what if you were a poor muggleborn, with a northern accent to boot? in the same way severus trained himself to be more posh, lily could have done the same and could have furiously tried to blend in. maintaining a friendship with severus would have ended in heartbreak as there were too many risks and it likely outweighed the gains. this was the wizarding world too which is much much smaller than the muggle world and relied on connections more than anything. openly siding with the marauders would have saved her skin and secured her a future (which, as we all know, was forfeit anyway but whatever);

- jumping to the jily relationship, i honestly think it was also not one that was meant to last. iirc jkr projected a lot onto lily, so i'm surmising jily reflected a lot of her own failed relationships. i think james and lily had a less-than-ideal relationship, one that involved abuse (verbal, emotional, mental, physical, take your pick, but at least one form of it), and i think she may have been unhappy in the last year of her life, living in hiding with none of her own friends (if they even existed) and seeing no one else but james' pals. her only light in that darkness was likely harry as she couldn't even see her own family. i think, during those times, she thought a lot about the home she left behind and, as a consequence, her lost friendship with severus. she probably missed him, and i'm sure she must have been very lonely.

in sum, i don't think she was the Virgin Mary figure a lot of hp fans paint her to be. imho she had her own questionable but utterly human moments, and i just tried to fill in the blanks as to why she would have acted the way she did. i don't think it was easy to be lily evans at all, and majority of the 21 years of her life was likely a struggle.

#lily evans #and the cards she was dealt #i wish we knew more about her tbh #ask #hp #also mentions #snape #of course

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yinses · 4 years ago

Text

college au! headcanons

gojo satoru, geto suguru & nanami kento

rqst: college au for nanami, geto and gojo?

a/n: so i divided it into three categories to help keep my head straight. honestly almost straight kicked gojo out of college bc i couldn’t decide on a major for him. the jjk discord server is heaven sent for my sanity. ty everyone again 🌺

last time i should have to post these. hoping everything is fine now.

gojo satoru

MAJOR

—he starts off undecided for a long time. the fact that he’s on scholarship allows him to be more flexible with his classes given that he’s not responsible for costs. he grew up with expectations from his family but university is suppose to be his opportunity to spread his own wings and grow from his experiences.

—so he tries a bit of everything- sciences, music and social studies- anything to prompt a spark. (took a business class once and made a point to sit next to nanami everyday just to annoy him) by his second year he’s getting as frustrated as his counselor because if he doesn’t decide soon he’ll be a potential 5th year senior.

—he’s overthinking it but gojo wants to invest in what he believes will make the most significant impact to his ability. his counselor takes those crumbs and runs with it.

—he gets steered towards political science and actually excels at it (that advisor gets a raise). surprises most of the class with his analytical skills because they thought he was just a pretty boy- surprise he’s beautiful and smart.

—develops a vested interest in governmental policies. might run for president one day idk. brings donuts to his early am class. doesn’t share.

SOCIAL

—he’s not the jock per say, but as the star athlete of the basketball team, the school likes to take advantage of his image to draw in sponsors.

—his face is plastered all over the auditorium whether they’re in season or not. sometimes it’s not even to promote basketball, gojo is pretty and they’re not afraid to use it. which also makes him one of the most recognizable faces on campus.

—due to his student athlete contract, he’s not allowed to sign autographs freely in the event they’re attempted to be sold as quick cash. but yikes, he can barely walk to class without someone stopping him for a picture. to the best of his ability he tries to laugh it off, poster boy image and all, but it gets pretty fucking old and annoying quickly. especially when it makes him late for his next lesson and the instructor shows no sympathy.

—his height didn’t only help him get into basketball, but its also convenient when it comes to shouldering politely through the student masses. his golden rule is don’t make eye contact. the busier the crowds the easier it is for him to pretend like he could’t possibly have heard them.

—gojo doesnt scout fraternities, fraternities scout him. but he’s not interested in the slightest. as an athlete he already gets into any social circle he wants without the additional effort. that and he doesnt think he could tolerate an alpha male trying to exert his dominance without barking back.

—loves to show up to parties but always arrives late enough to the point where they don’t think he’s coming. it helps him slip in when he wants too. he’s a connoisseur of all alcohol varieties and a master of beer bong. he’s not necessarily the life of the party but his presence is kind of hard to miss.

RELATIONSHIPS

—he gets too much attention to date casually. most potential suitors are in it more for the benefits they receive than him anyway. he’s got enough on his plate with career indecisiveness and games to try to pursue anything serious before third year.

—he’s not completely celibate though. he tries to keep the same partners as long as he can. not only to keep himself clean and safe but because he often goes into an agreement to keep it casual. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. either way he gets coined as a ‘heartbreaker’ before the end of his freshman year. frankly the rumors obscure most of the truth and give him more freedom. people always expect that he’s with someone even when he’s not, which helps keep his invasive teammates off his back.

—gojo can easily graduate without securing something tangible but there is still a window for potential.

—you’re both his consistent classmate and occasional friends with benefits. its the former title that keeps bringing him back around. he cant exactly avoid you without subjecting himself to 8am classes. it helps that the sex is good too.

—he can text you an offer to study together for the next test and roll over after an hour and wreck you for the rest of the week. its hard to tell who gets addicted first but he does appreciate the way your skin looks when youre wearing his marks.

geto suguru

MAJOR

—he’s a STEM kid, particularly interested in bio-genetics to improve overall health. he believes that simply becoming a physician just keeps the issue at bay and his goal is to eradicate the problem at its source.

—since high school he’s been cataloging different programs across the country before deciding what he wanted and putting all his efforts into it. so it’s no surprise when he gets in.

—geto doesn’t need counselors but they’re required so he listens to them prattle on about using university as an opportunity to explore. this man came in with more college credits than most sophomores, he knows what he wants.

—always on-time to class and never misses an assignment. also that kid who goes above and beyond, even on the simple stuff. he rarely gets teased about it, not even behind his back. geto straight up scares some people even when he’s smiling.

—not afraid to correct teachers when they’re wrong. in fact he lives for it.

—he’s the one who graduated early and starts his master’s program before most of his age group declare their own majors.

SOCIAL

—he tends to frequent the same circles- handpicking his acquaintances out of class rosters, clubs and honor lists. he’s less in it for the friendship and more so to scout for potential research partners.

—met gojo in one of his science electives and literally carried him through the class. they somehow end up friends but only really hang out at each other’s places- bunch of chill movie nights and pizza.

—there is no interest in fraternities, but he does join university funded clubs that allow him to further his research. they give him unique access to labs, take him on trips to different conventions and have an alumni list a kilometer long for future collaborations.

—the man does not party but he will occasionally slip into quieter bars to ease some of his frustrations. he actually enjoys karaoke thursdays , not to sing for himself but the drunken antics of others bring him some amusement.

—smokes weed occasionally, but only his own product. it helps him relaxand fan out the stress. he never sells it but sometimes gojo nicks some of his stash. given that he gets drug tested often, geto doesn’t know how the athlete never gets caught.

RELATIONSHIPS

—not interested in seeking out relationships in the slightest. the man has a plan and he’s already married to it.

—he’s not completely immune to sexual advances though and occasionally splurges but none of the friends with benefits crap. he’ll hit it once and stay celibate for the rest of the year easily.

—you might be able to squeeze in as his fellow lab partner. remain invested in the work and not him and he’ll start noticing the little details of your company- the way you subtle perfume lingers on his lab coat hours after you’ve adorned for the day, how he knows you have to keep your hair up for safety precautions but he thinks about running his fingers through it daily and your mind, damn, he wonders what else you can come up with when he has you laid out on his sheets.

—if he’s interested, geto won’t hesitate to broach the topic. he’ll ask you out for coffee and when you try to bring up research he’ll be upfront about his attraction. ultimately if you start dating the two of you are an absolute unit- not that you weren’t before.

—you’re the one variable he didn’t plan for but he’s glad to have added you to the equation.

nanami kento

MAJOR

—he was made for the business world, brought by a CEO who raised him to inherit the company. administration major marketing minor.

—takes initiative in all his classes and is often coined as group leader for projects. mostly keeps to himself and only speaks up when prompted or disagrees with something.

—he takes the earliest sessions possible because it means less people more often than not. doesn’t really care if its in the front, middle or back but always sits near the edge.

—doesn’t really want to but it looks good on his resume so he joins the marketing team where they present mock business plans for competitions. they win a lot. nanami honestly doesn’t care. but again it looks good.

—it only took him a brief summer internship to learn that he found nothing satisfying about board meetings and macro management.

—he decides to invest in law school to handle the company from a legal standpoint instead.

SOCIAL

— sort of like geto, only wants to make friends on a need be basis.

—he would rather keep to himself but knows the benefits of socializing so he interacts with his frequent classmates when he can- through study groups or car pooling to seminars.

—he does join a fraternity, its the same one his father did (and uncles, cousins, whatnot. its a generational thing). its geared towards bettering future leaders. they focus building resumes, charity events and run the organization like a proper business. nanami gets elected president by his third year and runs two terms.

—the only parties he attends are networking events- full of wine and fancy horderves. wine is plentiful but he’s always nursing a scotch on top of his headache. if one more person squeezes their stocks into a conversation he’s going to personally take down the whole market

—zero interest in college party life. spends some of his downtime at the campus theater watching old time movies and classic plays.

—he’s the coffee shop hoe. he wakes up early sometimes just to sit by the window and read some casual literature. has his own thermo that gives him free refills to cart to class. do not talk to this man before he’s had his caffeine.

RELATIONSHIP

—he probably has a high school sweetheart that he’s still clinging too, whether on the same campus or long distance. it helps him because he can’t really see himself pursuing a relationship while focusing on school.

—he’s been with you long enough that you understand his ambitions and won’t feel bested by them. the two of you have a system- starting the day off with sweet ‘good morning’ texts before class and ending the day with long conversations as you digest the last 12 hours.

—nanami is independent but he is thankful to have you to rely on when classes start to overwhelm him. the two of try to escape briefly for the weekend when you can. often going to near by reservations just to get off campus

—other times the two of you will cuddle close on your dorm bed, his long fingers combing through your hair while he reads over some notes for class.

—sometimes you have to be the one to tell him to take a break and to enjoy life while he can. even if that means dragging him the events and concerts hosted on campus. he resists at first but you can see the tension ebbing away as the night comes to a close.

—the two of you start living together in your senior year just because you can. he insists on buying a house. not only because he can afford it because it can be rented out after graduation. always the business man.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #nanami x reader #geto suguru x reader #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo blessings #gojo satoru x reader #geto blessings #nanami blessings

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