#and there i was after that at Liberal Arts College. the 4 years i spent there were a clusterfuck

[corpsentry]

a glass sun 1/2

[ladamedusoif]

Visiting: Chapter Three - Ghosts

(Moodboard by the wonderful @cutesyscreenname)

Pairing: Professor!Ben (College AU) x OFC Lydia/fem!Reader (reader POV/2nd POV)

Summary: Seeking a change of scenery after her life falls apart, Lydia crosses the Atlantic and arrives in a small New England town, to spend a year expanding her intellectual horizons as a visiting professor of art history at a small liberal arts college. Her growing friendship with Ben Morales, professor of Hispanic literature, forces Lydia to confront the fallout from her past - and raises unexpected questions about the future.

Chapter Summary: The gorgeous New England fall settles in - and so does Lydia, feeling more at home among her friends and colleagues at Barrow than ever. And then comes Evan’s Halloween party, with costumes, cocktails, and closeness on a couch…

Word Count: 5.7k

Rating: Mature; will become Explicit in later chapters.

Content (chapter specific): Professor Ben College AU; smaller-than-usual-for-this-fandom age gap (she is 41, about to turn 42, and Ben 47 when the story begins); canon is not a thing here; slow burn; strong language; alcohol consumption; weight and body insecurity; reference to relationship breakdown; reference to chronic pain and implied autoimmune-related pain; references to serial killers in a Halloween costume context; briefly illegal shenanigans in the back of a car if you're liable to be concerned about this.

A/N: This is fluff. After the horrors of Kevin Lacroix last chapter, it was nice to write our gang in a more relaxed and fun setting (even if, as you’ll see, you could cut the tension with a knife).

This was originally one long chapter but will now appear as chapters 3 and 4.

(A subtitle for this chapter might have been: In Which Rose Works Out Her Tim Rockford Feelings. You'll see what I mean.)

The title of this chapter is taken from Laura Marling's song 'Ghosts', which resonates really perfectly with Lydia’s own back story: The ghosts that broke my heart before I met you.

I've included links to more thematic/featured songs in Further Author's Notes at the end, to avoid spoilers.

See the Series Masterlist for an outline of Lydia's story and background.

Taglist: @lunapascal, @julesonrecord, @cutesyscreenname, @tessa-quayle, @vermillionwinter, @iamskyereads, @tieronecrush, @perennialdoll247, @love-the-abyss, @imaswellkid, @intheorangebedroom, @javierisms, @fuckyeahdindjarin, @littlemisspascal

“I’m giving you two weeks - that’s plenty of advance warning here. I need to make sure you two understand the assignment.”

Evan exhales and pushes his seat back from the round table in the staff lounge, where you are eating lunch with Ben on a random Tuesday in mid-October. Evan’s expression is one of deep concern. 

Ben puts down his sandwich and brushes a couple of crumbs from his dark green pullover. 

“Do we understand the assignment? For your Halloween thing? At your house?”

“For the Halloween party, yes. Are we clear on the theme? This is important.”

“Is this because David is coming?” Ben asks mischievously. Evan has been involved in an on-off “thing” (his term, not yours) with David, a drama professor based in Boston, for the last six months, and this party would mark his introduction to the Barrow circle.

Evan ignores Ben’s question. You stifle a giggle and stir your noodle soup. He’s spent the last twenty minutes issuing your invites to a Halloween party at his apartment, accompanied by detailed explanations on the importance of sticking to the theme. 

“Cinematic Horror And/Or Serial Killers. It’s pretty broad, I think we’ll be okay.”

Evan raises an eyebrow. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Ben catches your eye and gives you a knowing look. “I have some questions, Evan. When you say ‘serial killers’, is that exclusively the killers themselves or are associated characters from the films an option?”

“Associated characters are fine. One of my friends from Boston is already dressing as Gale Weathers from Scream, though, so cross that one off your lists.”

Ben briefly looks confused, before returning to his lunch with a shrug. 

“I also have a question, Evan,” you say, innocently. You can see Ben trying not to laugh as he takes a bite of his sandwich. “Fiction or non-fiction?”

Evan rolls his eyes. “What?”

“Well, do the characters have to be fictional, or can they be cinematic representations of real people as depicted in horror or serial killer movies?”

“Just stick to the theme. And you” - he points at Ben - “no niche literary or historical costumes.” He picks up his can of sparkling water and walks off.

You lean in, whispering. “I didn’t know this was so serious. I knew Halloween was a big deal here, but…”

Ben looks pensive as he finishes his lunch. “I’m still not entirely sure I understand what he means by ‘understand the assignment’.”

As the glorious New England fall settles in, making the Barrow campus a riot of copper and gold, you have that curious sensation of having been here forever while feeling like no time at all has passed. Your little community of friends and colleagues have, for the most part, made you feel like you were at home, not just “visiting”. 

After the shenanigans at the beach away-day in September, you prove you can walk the walk as well as talking the talk. As soon as you got into work on the following Monday, you’d knocked on Ben’s door to volunteer as a tutor for one of the additional support workshops he was organising as part of the diversity and inclusion project across the faculty.

He seemed to appreciate your outsider perspective, regularly seeking out advice or feedback on how best to look after the students involved. You’ve never seen anyone look as pleased as he did to receive a printed and bound copy of the hundred-page report your institution had compiled a couple of years ago on support strategies. 

He shrugged when you mentioned this, having watched him leaf excitedly through the document. “I’m just a nerd for this stuff.” You shook your head. “You care. They’re lucky to have you.”

You shouldn’t have favourites, really, not when you’re teaching such a range of classes, but the students in that particular workshop group are a joy: hard-working, insightful, kind, and funny. They have no sense of entitlement or expectation based on privilege. They come into each group meeting spilling over with things they want to tell you and the rest of the class: books read, movies watched, artworks discovered, songs played on repeat. Their intelligence and perceptiveness only underlines how toxic the attitudes of, ahem, certain colleagues are.

They seem to like you, too - though not as much as they like Ben, who is clearly a bit of a cult favourite. You overhear a group in your support workshop talking excitedly one morning about seeing him coming onto campus on his black-framed bicycle, two pannier bags attached to the back.

“He’s just so cute on his little bike, ohmygoooooood!” The other students had scrunched up their faces and made high-pitched noises to signal their agreement. “Protect this man at aaalllllll costs,” agrees another. “Did you see his little space tie at orientation?? He’s so baby and so old man at the same time, I just cannot with him.”

You daren't ask what they say about you.

Outside of work, the arrival of more of the belongings you’d had shipped over has helped make the once-spartan apartment into a home. The crocheted blanket you made sits on the back of your small sofa, ready to be pulled over you as you read or watch TV. The living area is dotted with trinkets from your travels and photographs, especially of your little nieces. A bright green Japanese kintsugi bowl, a gift from your sister a year after your ex-partner had left, takes pride of place on the low coffee table.

It might only be home for a year, but you’ve tried to make the apartment feel like you. Your framed print of a Raoul Dufy painting of Paris hangs on one wall, comforting pinks and blues in the abstract but familiar depiction of the city. You treated yourself to two small Diptyque candles at the airport duty free on your way to the US, and their scent acts as a reassuring comfort whenever you walk back through the door after a day at work. As has been the case everywhere you’ve ever lived, there are books and magazines everywhere, some neatly shelved, far more in random piles. You’d even managed to track down a cheap second-hand sewing machine at a local thrift store, and had convinced Ani to drive you to the nearest large craft store to stock up on fabric and patterns.

It’s become somewhat of a running joke that you are obsessed with the fall. You tried to explain that it was, in part, because it was so different to what you were used to. 

“We just get meh.”

“Meh?” Evan repeated, sipping his coffee in the staff lounge one day, as you explain. “Meh?”

“Yes, meh. It gets dark too quickly. It’s kind of always…damp, and it makes my stupid fucked-up joints and body hurt. And we don’t get those crisp, gorgeous colours in the landscape. More like fog and sludge and rotting leaves and just: meh. Here, though! Campus is just like a picture book.”

“If you think this is good, you should see the lakeside trail just outside town,” Ben adds. “Best way to see it is by bike. Could be fun if you wanted to hire one and explore it?”

A week later, and you’re back on a bike for the first time in a long time, trying to keep your focus on staying upright while taking time to admire the incredible surroundings. The colours of a New England fall are spread across the landscape like an extraordinary patchwork quilt, all oranges and golds and reds and the occasional evergreen, and the blue of the lake provides a perfect contrast. You stop pedalling for a moment, resting your feet on the ground as you take it all in.

“Wow.” 

Ben, a little further ahead, slows and comes to a halt before walking his bike back to you. He follows your gaze to look at the picture-perfect scene in front of you, as nature offers a final performance of spectacular colour before the winter snows arrive. 

“It’s really something, isn’t it? Fall does not look like this where I’m from.” 

You nod, awestruck. “Sometimes I just can’t believe I get to be here.”

Two weeks after Evan’s micro-managed invitation to his Halloween party, and you think - no, make that hope - you’ve created a costume that fits the brief. Ani is coming over to meet up before you head over together, and you put out a bowl of candy corn (a revelation to you, even if Evan never fails to remind you that “it tastes like crayons.”)

You’re adjusting your curly blonde wig, carefully teasing out some of the curls around the ends, and checking your drawn-on moustache in the mirror when your phone lights up.

ANI: SEE ME. SEE ME NOW.

You raise an eyebrow and go to the intercom panel near your front door. Someone is standing at the door of the building in a top hat and morning suit, curly dark hair carefully arranged around their shoulders and a pair of tiny dark glasses perched on their nose. 

The curious figure is carrying a Barrow Farmers Market tote bag.

“Fucking hell.” You press the button to let Ani in, and leave your front door ajar. They swish into your apartment a few moments later, a vision in a dove-grey morning suit they’d found at a local Goodwill and a top hat borrowed from the student drama society. Ani had asked you to pin some grey fabric around the hat a few days earlier, but hadn’t revealed any more about their costume plans.

“Well?? Do you see me now?” They twirl around for your approval.

“That’s genuinely incredible. Vampirism really suits you.”

Ani grins, admiring themselves in the mirror that hangs near the front door before taking a seat on the arm of your sofa. “I look fucking fantastic, even if I shouldn’t be able to see my reflection. Any Mina Harkers at this party better watch out.” They look you up and down. “And you’re…?”

You stand up. In addition to the wig and pencil moustache, you’re dressed in a three-piece tweed suit (another Goodwill find, which you’d been able to easily tailor to fit with your trusty sewing machine) with a shirt and tie, topped with a white lab coat. 

Ani still looks confused. You tap a name badge you’d made for exactly this eventuality. They peer at it, reading it aloud, and finally join the dots:

Dr F. Frankenstein (Fronk-en-STEEN)

“Oh, wow.” Ani shakes their head. “You must be the first person in Halloween costume party history to go dressed as Young Frankenstein before he becomes the crazy scientist. Evan is gonna have notes.”

You shove your hands in the pockets of the lab coat and make a haughty face. “It’s pronounced Fronk-en-STEEN.”

Ani laughs and stands up, picking up their bag (which contains two bottles of wine). “Okay, Fronk-en-Steen, let’s go see if anyone can outdo you for niche costume choice of the night. That pencil moustache is kinda hot, by the way.”

Evan opens the door dressed in a truly horrible dress, a messy grey wig styled in a bun, and wielding a toy knife. He looks in a foul mood, even discounting the Norman Bates-as-Mother costume.

Ani wheels around, ready to do their Dracula routine. “SEE ME. SEE ME - fuck! Are you okay, man?” 

Evan scowls, stepping back to let you in. “I’ve got to take meds to get rid of that bastard chest thing I’ve had, and they specifically state no alcohol or other drugs to be consumed while taking them. So I’m stone-cold sober at my own party, while everyone else is enjoying my spooky margs.” He jerks his head in the direction of the crowd of guests. 

You step over the threshold, both curious and reluctant to find out what a “spooky marg” involves. Ani remains outside. 

“You gotta invite me in, dude.”

Evan rolls his eyes and brandishes the plastic knife. “Would you like to come in, vampire? You’re so lucky this is a toy.”

Ani winks behind their little glasses. “Nuh-uh! Stakes only!”

Evan’s apartment is a decently-sized mid-century two bed, and most of the party guests are milling around the open-plan living and dining area. In addition to the select group of colleagues who made the list, he’s invited a few of his friends from Boston and New York to come up for the night. You scan the room, hoping to spy the elusive David.

“Spooky Margs and a selection of other beverages are in the kitchen with some snacks. Help yourselves. And make sure to remind someone all night that they did not understand the assignment.” Evan points with his toy knife towards a familiar figure clad in a beige mac, who’s talking to some of Evan’s friends. 

Ben wheels around at the sound of Evan’s voice. He’s wearing a white shirt, a 1970s-style striped tie, and a pair of vaguely vintage-looking grey dress pants. There’s what looks like a toy police badge clipped to his belt.

He’s hearing Evan’s admonition for what is evidently the millionth time since he arrived, and rolls his eyes. “I keep telling you, I did understand! Cinematic horror or serial killers!” He looks pleadingly in your direction. “Lydia was there. We asked Evan some clarifying questions, didn’t we?” 

You nod, but Ani pulls a face. “Not convinced Columbo fits the brief, my guy. Did he get many serial killers?”

Evan nods enthusiastically. “See? SEE? Ani gets it. Fuckin’ Columbo, Ben.”

In the time they’ve been upbraiding him, you’ve been studying Ben’s costume more carefully, a smile of growing recognition dancing around your mouth. You clear your throat, and all three look directly at you.

“He’s not Columbo.” 

“So who is he, then?” Evan asks, irritated. Clearly, the lack of spooky margs is having an effect on his mood.

You move beside Ben. “Mind if I show them the evidence, Detective?” 

“Not at all, Doctor.” 

The white lab coat must be imbuing you with some sort of scientific spirit. You begin to jokingly lecture Ani and Evan, pointing out parts of Ben’s outfit like he’s a specimen on display. Some of the other party guests turn to watch.

“To the untrained eye, Professor Morales’ costume may well look like a typical Columbo effort. But there are some vital clues that prove he is, in fact, not Columbo and is completely appropriately dressed for the theme. Exhibit A: the side parting in his hair, and the way it is styled - or, sorry to say this Ben, the way he’s tried to style it. Exhibit B: no cigar. Exhibit C: the contents of his pockets. Could you show these to the group, Professor?”

Ben nods with exaggerated formality and reaches into his coat pockets.

“An old street map of San Francisco. A pocket guide to codes and codebreaking. A pair of glasses - pretty sure these are not part of the costume. Colleagues, this is in fact Detective Dave Tosche, one of the leading figures in the Zodiac case.” You look to Ben for confirmation, your eyebrows raised expectantly. 

“You’re so close.”

You chew on your lower lip before it hits you. “Ah! An important distinction. You’re Mark Ruffalo playing Dave Tosche in David Fincher’s 2007 based on a true story serial killer masterpiece, Zodiac. Serial killer, cinematic, he’s entirely on theme, he’s even from the Bay Area.”

You do a neat little bow. Ben laughs hard. “I knew you’d get it, Dr Fronk-en-steen!”

Ani rolls their eyes. Evan pinches his nose. “I swear to god, on your first day in graduate school they should warn you that if you become an academic you’ll end up working with fucking nerds for the rest of your life.”

The host’s irritation at his enforced sobriety aside, the party is relaxed and enjoyable. Evan has compiled an exceptionally well-curated playlist that mixes Halloween-themed songs and party bangers with random tracks from a ‘Spooky Sound Effects Vol. 1-5’ album he’d found in a thrift store. Evan’s friends are a fascinating and entertaining group of people: friends from college; former colleagues; people who work in fashion; writers, artists, and people who run tiny community theatres. 

You’re swapping Paris stories with Drew, a 6’4” Boston-based art teacher dressed up as Shelley Duvall in The Shining, while finishing off a vodka and tonic (you are still building up to trying a Spooky Marg, disarmed by their lurid green colour). 

Drew points to your now-empty glass. “Think it’s time for you to try Evan’s concoction, babe. Would you believe me if I told you it was actually pretty good?” he offers, raising his own glass of the icy green beverage.

You pull a face. “I guess I can’t know until I try it. Okay. Here goes nothing.” You cross to the kitchen in search of the green nectar, bopping gently to the strains of ‘Cuff It’ pumping out of Evan’s speakers. En route, you spot Ani in the open-plan living area, flirting outrageously with someone dressed as Tippi Hedren in The Birds, enormous fake bird sticking out at a rakish angle from their blonde wig. 

Ben has had the same idea as you. When you enter Evan’s tiny kitchen, he’s standing by the counter - still wearing his overcoat - and pouring himself a glass of the frosty green goo from a large jug. 

“Ohhhh, yes. Yes. This is good. You can try it first.”

“I thought you were a scientist, Dr Fronk-en-Steen? Scared of an experimental substance?”

You join him at the counter and give him a sceptical look. “As a good scientist, I’d at least like to know what’s in the experimental substance.”

Ben sips the drink cautiously and narrows his eyes. “There’s definitely tequila. Lots of tequila. And triple sec. And something…minty? And then an extra booze layer that I can’t quite place.” He coughs suddenly, eyes watering. “Yep. Pretty…pretty potent.”

You scan the counter and spot a bottle of crème de menthe and one of vodka tucked alongside the tequila and triple sec. “Detective, I think we have our answer. Oh well. I guess it’s designed to make us merry. Or spooky. Or just really, really unwell.” 

You pour yourself a glass, clink it off Ben’s, and lean against Evan’s countertop. You’ve taken off your lab coat and jacket. Ben gestures towards your outfit.

“That’s a great costume, by the way. Inspired choice not to go for the obvious ‘mad scientist’ version.” He peers closer. “And that is an excellent drawn-on moustache.”

You beam, delighting in the fact that he’s so impressed by your efforts. “It’s weird, I’ve kind of always wanted to go to a costume party where I had a drawn-on moustache. Maybe I want to feel like an early Hollywood villain.”

He laughs. “Or is it because of Jeanne Moreau with the fake moustache and cap in Jules et Jim?” 

Your mouth drops open. “Shit! That’s it. God, that would have been a good costume. Easy to do, as well.” 

Ben nods in agreement. “But I think Evan would have actually tried to kill you for not - what was the phrase? - not understanding the assignment.” He takes another sip of his Spooky Marg, wincing slightly. “And thank you, by the way, for proving that I did what I was told.”

You look him up and down, taking in his costume. “It’s so obviously not Columbo. Where did you get all the bits of the outfit?”

“Coat and pants are from a bigger branch of Goodwill in the next town over. Shirt is just a white shirt. Nothing exciting there. Got the badge in a toy store. The map and code book are my own.” 

Of course they are. 

He holds up his tie. “This belonged to my dad. Authentic 70s size and stripes.” 

You smile softly at that detail. “It is an excellent tie and no mistake. I’m just wondering about how far you took the attention to detail, though - didn’t Tosche have one of those shoulder holster things on for pretty much the entire movie?”

Ben blushes. “Uh…well. You know I believe in the details. And the accuracy.”

You tilt your head quizzically. “In what sense?”

“In the sense that I do care about the attention to detail, so I, uh…”

He moves to take off his overcoat. And there they are: a pair of brown leather shoulder holsters, albeit without any handguns (real or fake). Insane green drink aside, he really looks the part as an old-school hard bitten TV detective. 

It’s also impossible to ignore the way the combination of the snugly-fitted shirt and holsters seems to exaggerate (or maybe emphasise?) just how broad Ben’s shoulders are. 

Have they always looked like…that?

Either way, you’re impressed. “Wow. I mean…wow. It’s the whole package. No toy pistols, though?”

He furrows his brow. “I was struggling a bit with whether this fed into the more problematic aspects of how policing is presented in popular culture - what do they call it, ‘copaganda’? - , and guns for me are just…no.” He shakes his head. “Felt weird enough getting the holsters but, like I said - attention to detail.”

You nod. “You could just use yours to store snacks, or something. Might get a bit, um, melted, though. Body heat, and all.”

Ben laughs, and nods his head towards the living room. “Come on. Grab your Spooky Marg and let’s go see if Tippi Hedren’s been turned vampiric yet.”

Three Spooky Margs later, and you’re buzzed. Thankfully, so is pretty much everyone else - with the exception of Evan, of course, and a lone guest dressed as the Babadook who’s been sitting, motionless, at the dining table all night. 

Wig off, you’re chatting and eating pumpkin spiced cookies in the tiny kitchen with David, who has proven to be charm personified (and gorgeous to boot). Hair neatly styled and wearing a simple outfit of slacks, shirt, and jacket, it took you a moment before you realised he was dressed as Norman Bates. 

That’s one way to do couples’ costumes. 

In solidarity with Evan, David has limited himself to one Spooky Marg for the evening, and is sipping on tonic water and lime. Evan sticks his bewigged head into the kitchen and beckons you and David to join the rest of the party in the living area. “Come on! It’s Spooky Lip Sync for your Afterlife time.”

You glance sideways at David, who grins. “Don’t worry. There won’t be any death drops.”

“Lyyyyyyyydiiiaaaaa!” Ben beams and waves frantically at you from the smaller sofa, gesturing for you to join him. You realise why he seems so eager to have you join him when you see what’s happening on the couch.

He’s pinned against one end, holding his head at an awkward angle to avoid getting hit in the face by the fake bird stuck in Tippi Hedren’s hair as they throw their head back and laugh while Ani whispers sweet nothings into their ear. 

All the Spooky Margs in the world couldn’t make Ben Morales comfortable in this scenario. 

Even so, he’s definitely merry, albeit in an extremely smiley, benevolent kind of way. He’s got a beatific smile on his face as you approach. “Lyddie, sit. Sit. Sit in the seat.” He motions as if he’s about to stand and give you his space on the couch.

You laugh and put a hand on one of his shoulders, gently pushing him back into his spot. “Absolutely the fuck not. I’m not sitting beside someone getting turned into a vampire, Benjamin.” You settle onto the padded arm of the couch on his left, leaning ever so slightly into him as you do so. “M’sitting on the arm of this sofa right here.” 

“Mmmmkay.” He sips his lurid green drink and hums with satisfaction. Drew, his Shelley Duvall wig swapped for a longer, darker one, emerges from the hallway clad in a wafty, bright red dress. 

“Pssssst. Lyd. Lyd.” Ben leans in to whisper theatrically in your ear. “What’s a Spooky Sync Afterlife anyway?”

Evan glares at him and fiddles with his phone until a tinkly piano melody emerges from the speakers and Drew starts to dance, lip syncing along to ‘Wuthering Heights’:

Out on the wily, windy moors

We’d roll and fall in green

He’s uncannily good, nailing each of Kate Bush’s dance moves as he mouths along. From your spot on the arm of the couch, you fling your arms in the air, waving along in time to the music and matching Drew word for word in a perfect lip sync. 

When the song reaches the middle eight, Drew advances towards you and pulls you up to join him. Ordinarily you’d run for cover, but the Spooky Margs have relaxed your inhibitions just enough and you join in, widening your eyes and extending your arms as you beg Heathcliff to let you in at his window. As the song’s closing guitar riff starts, Drew wraps his long arms around you, playfully pretending to drag you off to some uneasy underworld before embracing you in a delighted hug as the other guests whoop and cheer.

You hastily retreat back to your seat as Drew takes his bow. Ben breaks off his applause and raises a hand to high five you as you settle back onto the arm of the couch. 

You’re not quite ready for it, your centre of gravity thrown off by the slightly awkward seating position and the effect of the drinks. To your horror, you begin to topple ungracefully off the couch in the direction of Evan’s living room floor, closing your eyes and bracing for impact. 

Strong arms catch you gently around the waist mid-fall and pull you back to an upright position. A slightly slurred, but reassuring voice: “I’ve got you.” 

This is mortifying. 

You open your eyes and turn to face him, wanting to cringe yourself out of existence.

“Um…whoops?” If the ground could open you up and swallow you now, that would be most helpful. 

But Ben’s wearing that contented smile again, evidently trying not to laugh but with a look in his eyes that reassures you he’s not making fun of you. Not in the slightest. 

You crack in unison, giggling like misbehaving children. 

You look down to where your left hand is still resting on his bare forearm, his shirt sleeves rolled up and exposing the warm, lightly golden skin below. 

He has arm freckles.

Lowered inhibitions or not, reality kicks back in. You move your hand away, concerned you’ve overstepped a mark. 

“Sorry. Thanks for catching me. Sorry.”

His smile fades and he reciprocates, pulling back and blushing as he pushes his glasses back up his nose. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, I… Just didn’t want you falling.”

Another tiny crackle of electricity goes off in your brain, as if an unseen force is soldering together synapses that have long been out of use.

The signal, this time, is a little stronger, amplified no doubt by physical proximity and Spooky Margs. 

You angle your body and reach behind you, catching hold of his left arm and moving it back into position so that it’s lightly bracing you, forearm against your back and hand holding you at the waist. 

“’S just in case I fall again. Safety is paramount.”

Ani, left alone for a moment while Tippi Hedren goes to the bathroom, leans round and looks at you both. 

“Could use a sholster holder for better counterbalance or some shit? Hold on to a sholster holder.” They start laughing at their malapropism. “Sholster holder. No wait, that’s not it. Sholster. Holder. No. Oh, fuck it.”

Ben looks up at you, coffee-brown eyes twinkling. 

“I am kinda curious about the sholster holder,” you say. “Never seen one before.”

“Oh, well in that case…” He motions with his head and taps the holster strap on his right. You extend your right arm, stretching across his shoulders to rest your fingers against the leather. 

The electrical current in your brain continues to pulse. 

Evan introduces a lipsync by “Musty Springheeled”, who performs ‘Spooky’. Musty had been introduced to you earlier in the evening as a mild-mannered poet called Dani. They’re transformed now, enormous backcombed blonde wig and layers of black eyeliner complementing their long black vintage-style dress. 

You sway gently to the music, careful not to overreach again. Not that you’d be likely to fall. Not with a large, warm hand at your waist and your fingers resting lightly on his shoulder. For better balance, as Ani suggested. 

Musty extends their elegant arms in front of them as they mouth the words, hands passing back and forth in front of their face:

Just like a ghost

You’ve been a-haunting my dreams

But now I know

You’re not what you seem

You feel the caress of soft, wavy hair against your neck as Ben rests his head on your shoulder. Instinctively, you reciprocate, lightly shifting your head to lean against his. 

Evan keeps an eagle eye on Musty Springheeled. Tippi Hedren has rejoined Ani on the couch, and they’re wrapped around each other and swaying along to the song, caught up in their own little world.

It’s only David, alert and observant, who notices just how contented the detective and scientist seem to be, nestled into one end of the sofa. 

“Fuck it. I’ll drive you guys. Come on, nerds. Party’s over.”

Evan, still in his Mother Bates dress but wig discarded, is jangling his keys at Ben, who yawns and offers a thumbs up in acknowledgment before grabbing his mac.

There isn’t a cab to be had in Barrow, but Evan is determined to get the local guests home so that he - and everyone else staying with him - can go to bed. Some of the visiting contingent have already left, decamping to an AirBnB the next block over. Others are staying in Evan’s guest room or on his couch and sofabed. 

Evan starts a head count. “Okay. So… that’s Lydia, Ben, Ani in the back, Dani up front. Right?”

Dani, still in their Musty Springheeled dress, nods. Ani appears from the kitchen, Tippi following close behind. “And Cass. Cass is, uh, coming with me.”

Who the fuck is Cass?

Tippi Hedren waves a tiny wave. “Hiiiii. I’m Cass,” they say in a quiet, sweet British accent. 

Evan cocks an eyebrow at Ani, then realises the numbers don’t add up. “Lydia, Ben, Ani, Cass, Dani up front… fuck. Fuck.”

You pull on your lab coat and knee-length wool overcoat, eyes half-closed with sleep and Spooky Margs. “I can just walk, y’know? Not too far.”

“The fuck you aren’t,” Ben mutters. “I’ll walk. It’s fine.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “You live further away, Benjamin! Fuck. Make it make sense.”

David’s eyes flit between you, Ben, and Evan. “Who would be getting out first?”

Ani and Evan point at you in unison. You raise a hand, sheepishly. “I mean it, it’s close.”

“I mean, desperate times etc. So,” David sets out his proposal, “Ben, Ani, and Cass go in the back. Lydia sits on Ben’s lap for the short journey. You drop Lydia off, you’re good for the rest of the journey.”

Your eyes widen. “I don’t think that’s legal!”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Of course it fucking isn’t legal. But I want you fuckers to go home.”

David turns to Ben. “And you don’t mind having Lydia on your lap for a few minutes?”

Your face heats. A side effect of all those Spooky Margs, you think. Ben’s ears have turned pink, too. Definitely something in the drinks. Crème de menthe has a weird effect.

“Sure. Sure! Mmmhmm.” Ben nods quickly. “But only if that’s okay with you?” He turns to you. 

There’s something endearing to you about the fact that, even with several extremely strong cocktails on board, even being more buzzed than you’ve ever seen him, and having spent most of the night holding you steady on the couch, he still wants to check that you’ll be comfortable. 

You nod. “Just a bit worried I’ll be too heavy, is all.”

Ben scoffs gently and shakes his head to assuage your concerns. 

“Oh, thank FUCK.” Evan exhales with relief. “Nerds! Come on!”

It must be twenty years since you’ve been in a car like this, perched on your friend’s lap on your way home from a party. You try to hold yourself up slightly, worried despite yourself about what Ben might think if he had to feel all of your body weight on his (strong-feeling) thighs. 

You’ve never been small, not as an adult. As a student you envied those tiny, petite friends who always seemed to appeal to men and women alike, their compact, light frame fitting perfectly on the lap of whatever lucky person they were flirting with at the party. They never had to worry about stuff like this, right? Too busy being picked up and carried around by boys desperate to assert some kind of masculinity, who never cast a second glance at the unappealing, taller, serious-faced friend.

That said, even if he did think you were disturbingly heavy, Ben hadn’t given you the slightest indication since you’d clambered into the back of the car and settled yourself around him carefully, balancing yourself by resting an arm over the back seat. He arranges his arms firmly around you.

“Like a human seatbelt, Lyddie.” You giggle sleepily.

He murmurs. "I've got you."

Evan drives carefully, the Barrow streets mostly deserted save for occasional groups of student revellers in costume. Ani is leaning into Cass, ostensibly examining the fake bird still sticking out of their carefully-coiffed hair, but in truth taking the opportunity to rest a hand on Cass’s knee. 

In the relatively cramped confines of the back seat, you have to lean your head on Ben’s shoulder to avoid thwacking your skull off the car roof. The scruff on his jaw brushes lightly against the top of your forehead. His breathing is steady, and oddly calming, but there’s this…frisson running through your body at the same time.

It’s been so long since you’d been this physically close to another person, the odd hook-up aside. No wonder it feels so good. Anyone would feel the same if they’d been a bit touch-starved. 

Right?

“So I guess this experience is fairly standard for the visiting professor?” you ask. He laughs, and you can feel it resonating against you from his chest. 

“Ohhh, yeah.” He pauses. “For the nice ones, anyway.”

Evan pulls up at the kerb outside your building. You open the door and unfold yourself carefully from your position on Ben’s lap, until you’re eventually upright. You wave cheerily and turn to walk to the main door of the building, smiling happily. 

You’re only a couple of steps away when the car door opens again. You look over your shoulder, instinctively.

He’s standing on the pavement, hands in his coat pockets, looking down at the ground for an instant before meeting your eye. 

“Hey, Lydia?”

(bookshelf divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

Further A/N:

Huge thanks to lovely @lunapascal and @julesonrecord for thoughts, excited responses, and reading parts of this in draft! And for introducing the word "frisson" into the equation... sigh.

The idea of Lydia on Ben’s lap in the car came from @cutesyscreenname, and this got me thinking A LOT about physical proximity for these two nerds and what it might unleash…

Costume references: Ani as Gary Oldman in Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992).

Lydia as Gene Wilder as Dr Frederick Frankenstein in the earlier parts of Young Frankenstein (1974). "It's pronounced Fronk-en-Steen."

Ben as Mark Ruffalo as Dave Tosche in Zodiac (2007) (that's him on the left, obviously). (Bonus: SHOULDER HOLSTER SUPREMACY)

Evan as Norman as Mother Bates in Psycho (1960)

Cass as Tippi Hedren in The Birds (1963)

This is the specific performance of 'Wuthering Heights' Drew does at Evan's party (this is one of my absolute favourite songs, ever, and I would have been just as into this as Lydia is):

'Spooky' by Dusty Springfield, lip synced by Musty Springheeled/Dani:

[supercantaloupe]

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

under the cut for long answer ⬇

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[magsgoestocollege]

i want to capture this feeling, this moment. near the end.

i am sitting in my college dorm room, my fourth one but not my final one, and i have been home from my last college class for roughly thirty minutes. i stalled leaving the classroom because i was sure that i would cry. we spent the semester studying knights, chivalry, romance, and fantasy. it was queer, feminist, and beautiful. i'm so glad i planned my courses to end with this one.

it feels wrong, i think, to be done. to feel done. i still have two-ish finals left, but not really. one just needs to be edited, and the other is a series of knight-themed aita posts. because. liberal arts college. neither are putting the weight of the world on me. my final film screening is in an hour and a half.

i'm throwing a graduation party for myself tonight in the basement of my dorm because reading period starts tomorrow night and i don't want to annoy my housemates. i feel at home here, finally, after 4 years. and i leave it in less than three weeks. there are more than thirty people planning to come to my graduation celebration, more than i ever could've expected. i thought i had three friends, if that. to see so many people want to celebrate my success? well.

senior ball and senior banquet were this weekend. both were unexpectedly wonderful. i got all dressed up in my jumpsuit and crystal. my friend burned my forehead with the curling iron. it still hurts, but i can only be a little mad. it was a special night. i pregamed with my housemates, my second (third?) time being invited. i'm still surprised to be included, honestly, which my therapist raised her eyebrows at. I'm working hard to undo the idea that i have to earn the right to be around other people.

the dance was in the campus center, and they legally can't turn the lights off, so imagine around 200 drunk seniors in formal attire dancing under fluorescent lights middle school-style. it was perfect. i was skeptical of the french fry bar at first, but actually, that is exactly what i wanted. i flitted between housemates and senior friends and graduated friends who were brought by senior dates. i had a beautiful time. the misting rain was cold against the alcohol-flush of my cheeks. i was warm. happy.

senior banquet was perfect. in true banquet fashion, the tables were arranged in a big square with seniors on one side. everyone knew each other. there were no cliques for the first time since I've been attending. the underclassmen showed up in droves. the first years and sophomores performed their skits, recounting tales from the seniors' time in college. someone monologued as me. it was touching. the juniors presented their prophecies. mine was very sweet. I gave my wills away to three juniors and three first years.

i think i'm excited to graduate. i'm certainly ready to leave. to try something new. four years, I've found, is about the longest i can stay somewhere without growing bored or getting too comfortable. i studied video production, indigenous critiques of settler colonialism, and knights this semester. a fine lineup if i do say so myself.

i'm excited to join the school's legacy. alums are known for making waves, after all, and i hope i get to start a ripple. with all its ups and downs, traumatizing experiences, and bright spots, i have certainly come away from college a different person. i'm more self-assured. i'm confident in my ability to succeed. my perspective of the world has opened up and closed at the same time. i can hold nuance and gray area better than most of my peers. i'm still learning who i am, but that's okay. you never really stop learning who you are.

i have to go. my party is in a few hours, and i have a screening to get to. i'll see you soon, though. there's much to say in the next few weeks.

[itssleepyrabbit]

hi! wow i super love your art and i don’t have enough dabihawks in my life 🥺 was wondering if you had any fic recs for them?? 💕💕

aah thank you so much!! 💕💕 💕💕

BOY IF I DO HAVE!! alright buckle up this might get long (most are fluff and SFW~ i’ll put a NSFW warning but be sure to look at tags in all of them!!)

Bed I made (lie in it with me) by  silverwordswrites

“Touya is in desperate need of a plus-one for his brother's wedding and Keigo is infinitely curious about the man who he was sure used to hate him in college.” 

-- the summary says everything and honestly it’s one of the most romatics dabihawks fics i’ve read.

On-going

He Doesn't Love Me by  Fatally

“Dabi doesn't love him. He's accepted that thorny truth, swallowed it down and let briars grow in his chest, drinking down his blood like water.Or: The one in which Hawks settles for pining for his entire life and doesn't realize Dabi's been staring at him the entire time, too.” 

-- I love pinning Hawks with a burning passion.

Completed

sweetheart, is that you? by  fuckendeavor666

“dabi and hawks say i love you (without actually saying i love you) in five different ways.“ 

-- This is my absolute fave dabihawks fic

Completed

Deck the Halls With Boughs of Folly by  DrAphra

“In which the League has acquired a new fancy mansion -with all the heating and food and plush beds they could possibly need - but they still prefer to spend the day out in the wilderness with just each other. Plus Hawks.“ 

-- Honestly all Aphra’s dabihawks fics are more than worth it but this one has a special place on my heart.

Completed

fuck, im so young - orphaned

“Todoroki Touya writes poems.

Words upon words of heartfelt confessions, letters of sing song fantasies, syllables of feelings he never got to say out loud.

When Todoroki Touya hits sixteen, he burns himself to death.

When Dabi hits twenty four-

He meets Hawks.” 

-- i don’t know how to explain but this fic it’s pretty

Completed

Feathers and Feelings by  Toboe1087

“Hawks keeps leaving feathers on his pillow, and Dabi's about had it.

(like hell he'd let anyone else have them, though)”

-- Dabi preening Hawks feathers is a blessing

Complete

(this is not a) swan song by  bittermoons

“"Who's your favorite, then?"

"Hawks." Touya doesn't miss a beat. "Definitely Hawks."

"What? Seriously? How come?"

"He has his flaws, but at the end of the day, he's trying to do good. It's something he always strives for. Dabi, on the other hand...if it weren't for Hawks, he wouldn't be a hero, that's for sure."

[Or: How a secret is revealed, and what comes afterwards.]”

-- Adorable no quirks AU with manga artist Touya and oblivious Keigo! Another author i adore pretty much all dabihawks works.

Completed

You can't trap the sky in a bottle by thyandra

“Letting Toga organize the accommodations for their trip might have been a mistake. This particular truth becomes obvious to Keigo as he opens the door of his hotel room for the first time. There, staring back at him mockingly, is a single, king-sized bed. It’s only by virtue of all the years spent perfecting his poker face around his adoptive parents, that he manages to keep his face straight. At his side, Touya clicks his tongue. “They must’ve given us the wrong key.””

--(no quirks AU) I really love they way Dabi and Hawks are written here i can’t express it in words and so so much pinning

Completed

A Tale as Old as Time by  EloFromMars, Gotcocomilk

“Dabi and Hawks are hit by the most improbable Quirk: both are yeeted in Fairytales land and have to rely on each other to get out of this.“

-- this was such a fun read omg

Completed

A Romance Written All Over Your Body by  minatsukinoamayo

//NSFW mind the tags!//

“Hawks is assigned to infiltrate the League of Villains in order to expose them. Hawks usually never fails a mission, but Keigo usually never falls in love, either.A story of how Hawks falls from grace to become a villain, because hero society has failed them all.

OR

5 times they're not in a relationship and 1 time they are.“

-- you know those fics you say “one more chapter” and it’s 3AM

Completed

it caught spark in your eyes by  youareoldfatherwilliam

//Mature - Implied Sexual Content//

“Keigo’s quirk is powerful, but sometimes it comes with unintended side effects.

Or: A 5 + 1 fic of five times the more…instinctively bird-like parts of Keigo’s quirk took over accidentally during his relationship with Dabi, and one time it happened entirely on purpose.“

-- I was screaming about this particular fic on twt the other day pls give it a read if you can it’s so so so good! Any fic that has Hawks with bird traits has a special place on my heart

Completed

The Others by  threesipsmore

//Mature - 2 sexual scenes, nothing too explicit but they’re there//

“"Skeptic's starting to think he’s more important than me,” Toga sneers, an acidic edge to her voice. “Making decisions on his own, sending out birdie without even talking to me first.”

She’d simply acquiesced to cooperating with Skeptic, but from day one the complaints had never stopped. In this tiny room layered with sushi and cakes, Dabi was forced to listen to her whining.”

-- You go birb, you get that man

Completed

Equivalent Exchange by  inexchangeforyoursoul

“Keigo blinks the blurry oblivion away from his eyes, although some part of it is oddly stubborn and to stay indefinitely. There's three things he's certain of: first, he’s alive. Second, just by looking at the bed and windows he can tell this is no villain hospital or torture room. Third: something feels wrong. Very wrong.

The silence… is deafening.

xxx

To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.

If so, what of a bird that has lost its wings?”

-- i had so many feelings reading i can’t physically explain them to you also PINK HAIR DABI PINK HAIR DABI

Completed

dabi's 5-step guide to being a better parent than endeavor by  twinkfrankenstein (orphan_account)

“A little voice inside his head whispered spitefully about how this was no place for a child, and how he was making a mistake and would only traumatize the kid, yada yada. He responded with an equally spiteful-

“Fuck off, its not like I planned to do arson today.”

(or: how Dabi becomes a good dad just to spite his own, realizes he kinda sorta maybe likes Hawks for realsies, begrudgingly admits the League cares and finally comes to terms with his protective side. Not in that order.)“

-- this legit made me laught out loud idk what else tell you

Completed

The Todoroki In-Laws by  aphrodaisyacs

“Over 10 years after the fight against the Paranormal Liberation Front, Rumi, aka the part-time hero Miruko and the proud wife of one Todoroki Fuyumi, decides it would be an awesome idea to create a groupchat with the significant others of the other Todoroki siblings.

Maybe things would be easier if its members weren’t two Pro Heroes, a former one and a rehabilitated villain, but…Honestly, where’s the fun in that?”

-- this is not dabihawks focused but it’s so funny pls

Completed

With Being Petty Comes Consequences by  CursedUndead

“"When we were saying fuck pro heroes, I didn't think you literally meant FUCK them," Tomura grumbles, kicking over an empty beer can.

"Pretty judgmental for someone fucking a pro twice their age," Touya says.

Tomura squints, and says, "Ten years is not twice my age."

Or, after spending Enji's money, Touya is forced to babysit for the number 2 hero to pay him back. Touya makes it his life's mission to fuck his new boss.”

-- this only has 4 chapters but i know it’s going to be one of my faves

On-going

The Truth series by  AmethystUnarmed

-- Hawks gets hit with a truth quirk and starts to be actually free by the power of love, friendship and a bit of crime <3

The last entry is on-going

and if we sit and count it up it's really not a lot by  sincerelysamedt

“Hawks finds a bento box in his messenger bag and almost cries.

"Is that a loving wife bento?"“

-- please PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THIS ONE /sobbing noises/

Completed

steal your heart by  darlingest

//Mature//

“When infamous thief Hawks announces that he is going to steal the heart of Endeavor's son, everyone expects him to prey on Shoto Todoroki - nobody suspects Touya to be the actual target.“

-- Villain Hawks and civilian Dabi are my guilty pleasure and this one it’s so soft too i’m- djsahfdjkfhadf

Completed

darling, thank god it’s this universe we’re in (and you can annoy me as much as you please) by  juurensha

“ Todoroki Rei divorces Endeavor and moves all four of her children into a small apartment next to a boy with wings as red as the hair of her eldest son. “

-- This was one of the first dabihawks fics i ever read and, to this day, i come back to it when i feel i need the extra burst in happy feelings and check their other works too! Honestly all are such a good fucking read

Completed

[ah-ga-seven]

Till The End of Summer - Chapter 14 (The Finale)

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 12,3K

Idol Cameos: NCT Johnny, ITZY Ryujin, ATEEZ Wooyoung, Stray Kids Hyunjin, Enhyphen Sunghoon, Heesung and Jay.

Genre:  Fluff, SMUT, angst if you squint.

Warnings: explicit mature content, I put a bolded warning sign at the start and end of it so you can skip through if you want.

Month 1.

Yeonjun went back home to save the reputation of Choi Enterprises by dealing with Lita’s attempt to overthrow him and his mother.  

Apparently, she did a lot more than the things she was locked up for initially. 

Lita and her husband bribed members of the board, making promises they obviously couldn’t keep. “When we have the company, the world is yours” but those days never came. and the board members that were bribed were fired effective immediately.

Each and every one of them got disposed of, with their assets included like they were last weeks’ trash. And if that wasn’t enough, Lita’s unjustified psychosis stemmed from the fact that she used to sleep with Yeonjun’s father. Lita felt like she was entitled to the Choi’s fortunes because according to her; the only woman Daniel Choi ever loved, was her.  

The revelation had Yeonjun sick to his stomach as he sat next to his mother in court. Lita looked at him with pleading eyes, claiming to really love him as her own son before the judge announced her 15-year prison sentence for fraud, spying, embezzlement, and attempted murder.

Somehow Yeonjun felt nothing as he looked at her. He really didn’t. If anything, he was glad to close this chapter of his life for good, and look ahead of the road to recovering his soul.

You, on the other hand, were completely overwhelmed with your new surroundings. You threw yourself into your work to forget about your heartache and didn���t dare to talk to Yeonjun in case it’d open up your wounds again. It would cause for you to lose focus, and you simply couldn’t afford that distraction right now.

Month 2

The first month passed without any contact between the two of you, but that changed when you wished him a happy birthday. His heart thumped in his chest on his way to his 6th therapy session as he looked at your message. 

He was even more surprised to see that you sent him a cute card with a Polaroid picture of the two of you; all happy and smiley in the park.  

It was reassuring to him that you were still thinking of him, and that you hadn’t completely forgotten about him or moved on so easily, because lord knows he hadn’t.

When you asked him about Lita’s trial a few days after his birthday, you two started to slowly talk again from time to time. You’d check up on each other and made small talk, but it was nothing like it used to be.  

There was no depth, and the core of your conversations always had to do with how both of your studies were going, if you were taking care of yourselves or if you’ve had dinner already.  

You both figured it was for the better this way, otherwise your break up would have been for nothing if you didn’t use this time apart from each other to heal, especially since you promised to be better individually so you could be even better together.

If that was still what both of you wanted upon your return of course.

He missed you so much, and he was finding it incredibly hard not to check your socials at least once a day, especially when he realized how male-dominated your studies were at Brown.

Your Instagram feed and stories indicated that you were having the time of your life when you could. You were happy despite the crazy hours you spent in a lab with your research team. A team that quickly became your new group of friends at the University.  

There were 2 other guys and one other girl in your team. The girl’s name was Giselle, you seemed to be the closest to her out of all of them. One of the guys was named Chanhee who was quite obviously gay, therefore not a threat. But the second guy, Hwang Hyunjin… let's just say that Yeonjun wasn't a fan.

Month 3

Your almost daily texts and calls with your friends back home started to shift to communication on a weekly basis.  

It was hard to keep up with your friends back home while having to entertain a new friend group here, all while you spent hours upon hours in the lab, working on a possible treatment for neurological disorders.  

You knew that whatever you were getting yourself into with this exchange was going to be hard, but you didn’t imagine it to be this hard and frankly, you were feeling incredibly homesick by now.

You missed Soobin, the boys, Mia…Yeonjun. And one time when you came home at 10 PM after a long day that started at 8 AM; you broke down on the phone when Soobin called to check in on you.

He was so shocked at your tears that he was ready to jump on a plane, but you stopped him from doing so. Knowing that you needed to push through and confide in the friends you made, whom you’ve started to hang out with a lot more, especially with Hyunjin.  

He reminded you a lot of Soobin, the way he was gentle yet in for dumb shit matched well with your own personality, and hanging out with him felt liberating. He introduced you to his friends and spent time with you and your lab partner and roommate Giselle whenever he could, which made your time at Brown a lot more bearable than you had anticipated.

Yeonjun was slowly starting to enjoy life again. He caught up with his studies, kept going to therapy, had regular calls with his mother, and spent time with his friends whenever he could. He started to pick up his neglected hobby of dancing again, finding comfort in the art form with Wooyoung and his crew.

Month 4

Yeonjun’s mother sold Choi Enterprises. She was completely done with the company as it wasn’t hers to begin with. The stock prices had risen for the first time since Daniel’s death paired with the whole Lita ordeal, so she took the chance to get rid of her past with a simple transaction.

She consulted Yeonjun about selling the company and the house he grew up in, for which he agreed, glad that they could finally close that dark chapter of their lives while getting a fresh start with new surroundings.  

With all of this newly acquired money, she opened a new headquarters of her own luxury fashion brand, closer to Yeonjun; only an hour away to be exact.  

She was determined to be a better mother and get to know her son, and the only way to do so was by actually trying. He was happier now that the burden of having to take over Choi Enterprises one day fell off of his shoulders.  

For the first time in a long time, he held the reigns to his own future again and his mother assured him that she’d support whatever he wanted to do in life both mentally and financially.

From there on out things started to look up for them.  

They went on café dates every Sunday, and sometimes he’d visit her for an entire weekend where they would bond by cooking or shopping together. 

During one visit, Yeonjun helped her pick some pieces for Fashion week, which made her pleasantly surprised by Yeonjun’s out of the box and daring passion for fashion. She suggested he’d take a minor in fashion design next to his regular Business studies and after giving it a good thought, he did, enjoying it a little more than he thought he would.

Month 5

You were doing better too. The hard part of your research was over with, and you had a well-deserved break which you spent with Giselle, Chanhee, and Hyunjin. You decided on having a mini-vacation and go sightseeing, rent an Airbnb somewhere in the state, and just chill.

Everything was fine until the last night of your trip, where you got shitfaced drunk and ended up sleeping with Hyunjin.  

You were single, so there was no reason to feel guilty, especially since the last time you even talked to Yeonjun was over a month ago, yet you still did.  

Of course, you had to talk to Mia about it, who only told you to remember that when you’d return in a month; you’d probably never see Hyunjin again, and that was enough for you to start distancing yourself from him.

The guy obviously had feelings for you, and you felt bad for friend-zoning him after being intimate with him, but the fact of the matter was that you just didn’t feel the same way about him. None of it would matter in a few weeks anyway, because you’d be heading back home, to your friends...and to Yeonjun.

Month 6  

Brown had offered you to stay and finish your studies at their facilities but you kindly declined. The experience was great, but you couldn’t put yourself through one more year of this type of curriculum, and you desperately wanted to see your friends' faces again by going back to the place you’ve called home for the past three years.

To your new-found friends’ disappointment, you were getting ready to leave as the weeks passed, packing your things little by little and meeting up with all of the people you met one last time before parting ways for good.  

It felt bittersweet though. Not only did you learn a lot about neuroscience, but you learned a lot about yourself as well. You grew as a person, matured, and blossomed by being more independent. Not having Soobin or your other friends to fall back on really pushed you to become more self-dependent, which was one of the perks of being away from them for so long.

You respected yourself and put yourself first and promised that that’d be a piece of knowledge that you’d be taking back home too.

Now.

Yeonjun couldn’t believe half a year had passed already. But what he really couldn’t believe was that he’d be seeing you again tonight.  

He stood in your apartment with the guys and Mia, organizing your things and cleaning up the place for your surprise welcome home party. Being in there felt weird, almost foreign to be exact.

It’d been half a year since he stepped foot in here, and even though you were gone for so long, the place still smelled like you. If it wasn’t for the empty shelves, missing bedsheets, and plastic covers over your furniture; it’d almost seem like you never really left.

He opened your bedroom door to see Mia struggling to make your bed and chuckled lightly at the sight. He walked over to her, grabbing the other ends of the sheets to help her out.

Mia gave him a faint smile and stopped her movements for a second to look at Yeonjun. “Are you excited?” She asks with a big smile. Lord knows she was, her best friend was finally coming back but Yeonjun didn’t really know how to answer Mia’s question.

“More nervous than excited. We checked up on each other from time to time but it’s not like we really talked or anything.”

Mia pouted at Yeonjun’s insecure facial expression. One she hasn’t seen from him that often. Especially lately. Mia and Yeonjun have gotten a lot closer in the past six months, which was a nice change for the both of them.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. You’re not the same Yeonjun you were six months ago. And that’s a good thing. She’ll appreciate the change.”

“Gee, thanks.” Yeonjun snickers as he throws a pillow at Mia’s head. It hit her straight in the face, messing up her hair which made both of them erupt in loud laughter.

“Asshole,” Mia says straightening out her hair.

“What’s going on here?” Soobin asks with a big smile on his face as he enters your room.

Soobin hasn’t been able to wipe that damn grin off of his face all day. He was so excited for you to come back and honestly the mood with the boys and with Mia has been amazing lately.  

“Yeonjun is back to his old ways,” Mia argues as she tries to throw the pillow back at him, but Yeonjun swiftly caught it, giggling to himself as he fixes it before putting it back on your bed, where it belongs.

“Well, quit messing around and hurry the fuck up, I’m picking her up in an hour.” Soobin says clapping his hands together to try and give orders, but neither Yeonjun nor Mia were phased by Soobin’s attempt to assert dominance. Both of them rolled their eyes before getting back to the task of making your bed.  

It was adorable how stressed yet giddy Soobin was to see you again. Everything had to be perfect before you arrived so he could relax and make sure you’ll be able to relax after your flight too.  

He ran around your apartment like a stressed mother; making sure the boys weren’t messing around too much so that everything planned out smoothly before the guests arrived.

Soobin waited for you patiently…at the wrong exit.

You immediately recognized his tall form when you were skimming the crowd, wondering why he wasn’t there yet, but when you saw his back facing the wrong arrival hall; you knew enough.  

It’s so Soobin of him to face the wrong way. You smile to yourself as it gave you the perfect opportunity to scare him.

You chuckle as you walk towards him while pulling your suitcase with you. He was concentrated on the people exiting the gates, hoping to see you and growing more and more restless as you didn’t show up, but little did he know, you were right behind him.

“Who are we waiting for?” You ask in a serious tone as you stood beside him with your arms crossed while following his gaze onto the crowd.

Soobin’s head snapped into your direction so fast you swore you heard a bone crack.  

His eyes widened before he smacked his bunny-like lips in confusion, looking you up and down before a huge smile crept upon his face that you could only mimic.  

“YOU’RE HERE!” Soobin shouts in shock, relief, and joy at the same time while pulling you in for a tight hug. He inhaled your scent while twirling you around, and all you could do was giggle as he smothered you in his hold.

God, you missed him, and judging from the way he wasn’t letting go of you, you could tell he missed you too.

“Ugh, I missed you so much. How was your flight? And look at you! Did you change up your hair? You look good, happy, healthy. Ugh.”  

You couldn’t even respond to anything he was saying as he wrapped you into his arms again. Normally you’d fight him for being so clingy, but this time you let him have his way for a few seconds…until it got hard to breathe.

“Soobin, I can’t breathe.” You protest softly as you tap his chest to let go which made him laugh in response, holding you at an arms-length. “Sorry y/n. I just…we’re never separating for that long ever again,” he says with a serious yet playful look on his face.

“Agreed.” you beam up at him as you link arms, walking towards the exit.

“Did you have a good flight?” he asks as he pets your hair, not believing that you were standing next to him right now.  

“Mmh, there was some turbulence so I couldn’t really rest. I can’t wait till I’m home again so I can sleep,” you mumble before you let out a yawn as you drag your feet on the tiled floor of the airport.

Soobin gulped. He didn’t know how you’d feel about the hoard of people in your apartment right now, all ready to celebrate your return when all you really wanted was to get some rest after your long travels.  

He felt guilty for a second but also knew that you’d probably forget all about your tiredness when you’ll see all of your friends again.

“Uhm, the car isn’t that far. Give me that,” he says as he takes your suitcase from your hold.

“Everyone quiet down! They’re coming up right now!” Taehyun announces while he cut the music.

Everyone frantically found a spot to hide. Some giggled as it got dark, some held on to each other cause they couldn’t see shit and some were nervous wrecks like Yeonjun.

You weren’t suspecting anything as you dragged your feet to your apartment. Soobin was acting weirder and weirder; fumbling with his keys, dropping shit, and constantly checking his phone, but you were too dense and tired to notice.

You struggle with your lock and let out a yawn. Soobin stood closely behind you, taking a deep breath as the door swung open.

Before you could even close the door behind you or find the light switch, all of the lights turned on in an instant, followed by a loud ‘SURPISE’ yelled out by at least two dozen people who were occupying your living space.

You flinch, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull and stumble backward, just so your back could hit Soobin’s tall form.

He laughed hysterically clapping his hands together like a seal, followed by everyone in the room.

“Oh my god.” Is the only thing that you were able to get out as you covered your face at the overwhelming sensation.

You didn’t even realize you had this many friends? I mean you knew all of them of course, but you didn’t comprehend the fact that they were all here to welcome you back.

The music turned back on and Mia was the first one to launch herself into your arms which had you immediately defrosting in her hold.

‘BITCH!!!” she yelped. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH.”  

She clung onto you and twirled you around making the adrenaline and confusion in your body shift to pure happiness at seeing their faces again.

You can’t believe they did this, and suddenly you don’t feel tired anymore.

“Y/N!” Beomgyu squealed your name as he hugged you, followed by Taehyun and Hueningkai who all patiently waited until it was their turn to hug you.

You were so caught up in shock and bombarded with love, that you didn't have time to scan the room for other familiar faces. Instead, you just let them come to you one by one as you stood glued to the floor, smiling, hugging and chatting away with all of the people that seemed to have missed you so dearly.  

Yeonjun stood in the corner of your living room, watching the whole ordeal. A smile crept onto his face at how happy and healthy you looked. It’s almost as if he saw you for the first time again. Making him realize that love at first sight really was a thing…even in this form.

He took a sip of his drink, still watching you carefully until someone nudged his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you go say hi to your girl?” The taller and older guy leaned against the wall next to Yeonjun after nudging him, making him look up at him.

“Hyung, I don’t even know what to say to her. She’s so happy right now, I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t think she’ll be happy to see you?”

“I don’t know anything right now.” Yeonjun sighed, watching you join Hueningkai and Beomgyu for a selfie with a big smile on your face. “When is the last time you two spoke?” Johnny asked, taking another sip of his drink.  

“Like two months ago.”

“Damn…”

“I know.”  

and just as the picture was taken, you spotted him across the room.  

Your eyes locked, making Yeonjun freeze in place. “Shit,” he gulps, downing his drink in one go to calm his nerves which made Johnny laugh at his antics.

“Relaaaax. Did you see her eyes light up just now? I think she missed you too,” he assures him, throwing an arm around his shoulder for comfort.

This seems odd? Doesn’t it? Yeonjun and Johnny being all friendly with each other.

During Yeonjun’s never-ending therapy sessions, the school’s counselor wanted to connect Yeonjun with someone with a similar background. You should’ve seen both of their faces when they met during a group session, but after realizing they had such corresponding backgrounds, you know; the neglected rich kid kind, they haven’t stopped talking to each other and oddly became very close friends.

It was nice for Yeonjun to have an older brother figure in his life since he’s the oldest in his own friend group, and it was even nicer for Johnny to find out that Yeonjun wasn’t such a big dick after all. Oh, and the part of having someone who gets his struggle was great too, even in the form of Choi Yeonjun.  

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You didn’t expect him to be here for some reason and the last thing you expected was seeing him with Johnny’s arm around his shoulder in a non-threatening way.

Mia chuckled as she followed your gaze. “Yeah…so, they started hanging out a few months ago.”

“How even?”  

“I don’t know maybe they started to bond over being your rejects,” Taehyun says making Mia and Beomgyu cackle with him, but you couldn’t quite see the humor in it. You had only returned to your friends for 5 whole minutes and they were already being annoying.  

Soobin noticed your slight annoyance and chuckled, rubbing your back in comfort as he was the only one to notice how nervous you really were to talk to him again after all this time. “Go talk to him, he’s just as nervous. Trust me.” Soobin says into your ear so only you could hear, and you give him a small nod in response. Smiling at the encouragement you so desperately needed.

You’re a bad bitch. You got this.  

You look at him once more as he talked to Johnny.

For some reason, his whole aura changed from the last time you saw him. His features matured a bit, he lost weight and he completely embraced having a mullet. Ok…hot.  

He was breathtaking. Even after all this time of being apart, he made you feel the exact same way and all it took to remind you of that feeling was one look from him.  

He decided to man up and make his way through the crowd to greet you, but you beat him to it as your legs automatically walked over to where he was standing.

Johnny sensed the sudden electricity in the air as you approached and decided to go in for the hug first to give Yeonjun some time to collect himself. “Y/n!” Johnny coed as he enveloped you into a big bear hug. “It’s so good to see you again. How are you? How was your exchange?”  

You’re snapped out of your trance, but you still feel Yeonjun’s eyes on you as you’re trapped in Johnny’s embrace. You collect yourself as you let go of him, trying to avoid Yeonjun’s gaze for now but it was almost impossible because of how close he was.  

“I’m good, it was good. A lot of sleepless nights but it was totally worth it.” You give him the quickest answer possible; you weren’t quite sure where to start the conversation with Yeonjun but the longer the two of you ignored each other, the weirder the tension between you two was getting.

He took a deep breath, giving you a warm smile before averting his attention to Johnny. He not so subtly told him to leave with his eyes, which made Johnny suavely exit the conversation by announcing that he needed a refill.

“Hey…” you start.

Yeonjun’s eyes glistened as he looked at you with adoration. “Hey.”

You looked good. Your skin had a healthy glow, and your new haircut was working wonders for your features. He was entranced by your beauty for a second before realizing his stare might be creeping you out, though you didn’t even notice, cause you were staring at him too.  

You were completely caught up in your own perception of time. Everything seemed to slow down now that you were looking into others eyes again after all this time and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, some kid you didn’t know accidentally bumped into you roughly.  

The sudden impact made you lose balance as you jolted forward, straight into Yeonjun’s arms. Luckily, he swiftly caught and stabilized you.

He looked at you in shock, making sure you were okay as he grabbed your shoulders before turning his attention to the random kid who somehow got an invite to be at your welcome home party, in your house, without you even knowing who he is.

He quickly apologized, but you feared for what was about to happen. The Yeonjun you left 6 months ago was a dick and a hothead, he’d make the kid regret running into you like that but to your surprise Yeonjun straightened out the freshman’s clothes and gave him a small side smile.  

“Be careful kid, we just got her back,” he says in neutral yet friendly tone.

That’s it? No threatening glare? No sarcasm?

He seemed to notice your dumbfounded facial expression and chuckled. “Anger management classes,” he explains with playfulness evident in his voice.

“You’re kidding?” you scoff in amusement.

“Nope. I’ve turned into a complete softie, just for you.”  

You teasingly shove his shoulder and laugh loudly. The sound made Yeonjun’s heart flutter as he watched your face contort into pure joy and cuteness. He felt the sudden urge to squish your cheeks together and litter your face with kisses but he withheld himself from doing so, and reciprocated your giggles with the sound of his own laugh as he raked his hand through his long locks.

This small moment of flirty teasing made the both of you realize just how much you had missed each other as you were quick to jump back in your old ways.

You both should’ve known that worrying about any awkwardness between you two was stupid. After all, you were friends before you even started dating; and luckily that dynamic returned quickly because he was just as big of a casual flirter as you were.

Suddenly it felt like you were starting all over again with him, it felt like the first time you tried to connect with him on that damn picnic that started the timeline of your relationship.

Somehow the universe granted you the opportunity to hit the reset button and do things right this time, and you couldn’t be happier now that you realize how stupid it was to worry about the inseverable connection you two seemed to have to each other.

Even after all these months and all those miles of distance, Yeonjun still felt like home.  

He gave you a shy smile, realizing you were staring at him with hearts in your eyes while you expectantly gazed into his dark orbs.

His eyes weren’t hollow anymore, for the first time in ages his happiness felt genuine and you couldn’t wait for him to tell you all about it.

“How about we…ditch your party for a bit and go take a walk,�� Yeonjun suggests, giving you a hopeful yet mischievous look as he held out his hand for you.

You boldly lace your fingers through his and lead him out of your apartment without a second thought, ignoring stares from literally everyone.

Oh my god, history really was repeating itself. Your mind flashes back to the walk you took with him that night at Johnny’s party; you lead him out of Johnny’s kitchen the exact same way right after the fight you had with an overprotective Soobin about trying to date Yeonjun.

You got Yeonjun a little flustered, which is a first, but he was happy with your directness. He couldn’t wait to be alone with you in a more private setting and if that meant leaving your own party, then so be it.  

Fresh air hits your lungs as the chilly spring night welcomes you outside. Your apartment was way too crowded and way too hot which made you sigh contently as the cold wind created goosebumps on your skin.

Yeonjun looked at you and stopped in his tracks while diverting his gaze at your still intertwined fingers.

You look back at him, confused as to why he stopped walking, but before you could ask questions; he pulled you towards him, trapping you into his strong arms. One of his hands made its way to the nape of your neck to slowly pat your hair as he leaned his chin on the top of your head.

You just let it happen, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your face in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of soap mixed with his expensive Chanel Bleu cologne hit your nostrils and the butterflies in your tummy start to flutter again after being on rest for six months.

Whole. That’s how you feel in the moment.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” You mumble into the hug, not wanting to look up at him out of fear that he might not have felt the same, but by the way he was holding you right now, you should know better. The insecurity of not being good enough still had its ways of fucking with your mind, even though you had no reason to be.

Yeonjun opened his eyes at your confession, not being able to hide how happy he was to hear that his feelings were mutual. He hid his grin by burying his face into your hair again as he giggled before pulling back slightly to see your face. You were trying incredibly hard to hide the heat that had risen to your cheeks but it was to no avail as Yeonjun mumbled something about how cute you were right now.

He was so worried you didn’t feel the same. He was convinced you forgot all about him at Brown. Your Instagram stories were filled with the countless parties you went to, the new people you met accompanied with the fact that your posts were littered with suggestive comments from guys he could only assume you met over there.

Yeonjun’s biggest fear relating to your return was that you utilized those six months away from him to move on, but as selfish as it sounds; he was so incredibly glad that you hadn’t.  

“Look at me.” He tried to cup your face but you didn’t let him, giggling into his chest as you protested.

The two of you must look absolutely pathetic to bystanders right now. You were completely stuck in your own world, acting like high school kids who were brand new to love, but somehow that’s exactly what you were.  

He chuckled lowly, as you tightened the hold you had on his waist. “Ah, whyyy…Look at me, come on.”

You do as you’re told, and when you look up you are greeted by the most beautiful smile you’ve seen in your life, making your breath hitch in your throat at how boyish yet manly he looked just now.

“Ok, I’m looking. Now what?” You challenge as you take a hold of his wrists as he cupped your face.

He didn’t know if he’d move too fast if he kissed your lips right now, so he decided against it while giving you a sweet kiss on your forehead instead.

“I just wanted to see your pretty face up close again. Instagram doesn’t do you justice, angel.”

“Oh, shut up.” You giggle, rolling your eyes as you push yourself out of his hold. You hate to admit it, but the little pet name made your heart skip a beat. You pretend to run from him, but he snatched you back in no time by tugging at your elbow with laughs and giggles. You give in and link arms with him as you resumed your walk through your neighborhood and look up at him to check if he was really here with you right now.

This whole thing just felt too good to be true. Here you thought he’d moved on from your relationship, but the confirmation that he hadn’t was nice, to say the least.

He looked down as he felt your eyes on him and smiles at you before looking at the path ahead of him.

“What?” he asks with an amused tone, but you just shake your head in response.

“You seem different.”  

“How different?”

“Like you aren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore type of different.”

He nodded understandingly and stopped in his tracks to look into your eyes again. His hands traveled down to yours, lacing your fingers together once more before he sighed, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear for you.

You gave him an expecting look, squeezing the hand that was still intertwined with yours to assure him of the fact that you’re listening, which earned you a small smile.

“It’s cause I’m not. While you were changing the lives of others with your research, I was changing my own. At first, I thought the whole therapy thing was a hoax. I didn’t understand why talking to some stranger would fix me, but it helped me come to terms with a lot. I learned about acceptance and moving forward. And I learned that in order to be able to love someone in a healthy manner, I’d have to love myself first. You know…on a deeper level than just my handsome face” he jokes trying to lift some weight off of his words.

You roll your eyes, but secretly love his arrogance, making a low chuckle escape from your lips before you return to seriousness again.

“I’m so proud of you.” you say, and you mean it. You’re amazed at how clear his mind seemed to be. It’d usually take Yeonjun a good minute to collect his thoughts before he could talk about how he felt with you, but right now it came out so naturally, it was almost odd.

He gave you a weak side smile, making eye contact once again. “I’m nowhere near the finish line though. I can’t promise you that I’ll never fuck up again because I’m learning as I go, but what I can promise you, is that my heart and my feelings for you are unchanged. I haven’t stopped thinking of you, not once. The thought of being with you again was my driving force and I need you to know that.”

He caressed your cheek while you let his words sink in and suddenly you feel tears prickle your eyes.  

You were at a loss for words, completely lovestruck by his incredibly sweet and wise confession.

You hold onto his wrist for leverage, your breathing turned shaky and uneven as a tear escaped your eyes.

Here you thought he had completely moved on from your relationship. But god, you were so wrong, and you couldn’t be any happier.

“I promised myself to never make you cry again,” he joked lightheartedly as he wiped another tear away from your cheek, making you sniff in response, wiping them away with your sleeve quickly.  “They’re happy tears.”  

He looked into your eyes again, searching for answers and maybe even permission. He wanted to take things slow; give you time to reflect and time to adjust to being back home, but he simply couldn’t help himself.

When you leaned into his touch, he knew you basically gave him an okay to proceed.

He inched his face dangerously close to yours, lightly brushing his plump lips against yours. His hesitation made you smile, so you pull him down to your level by the back of his neck as you initiated the kiss.

He froze for a second at your dominance but quickly relaxed in your touch soon after he realized that you seemed to want this just as much as he did.

Kissing him was like muscle memory. It felt natural and blissful and suddenly you find yourself wondering about how you were able to live without this feeling of pure euphoria for over six months.

His love was like a drug, and all it took was one kiss to break your sobriety.

He pulled back, quickly assessing his surroundings before he realized the two of you were basically making out in the middle of the street.

He pulled you into an alleyway and pushed you against the wall of a random apartment building, his hands holding on to each side of your face delicately yet roughly as he kissed you with so much fervor, it almost made you dizzy.  

“You really had me thinking I lost you forever,” he mumbles as his lips disconnected from yours.

You weren’t given the change to respond as his lips found their way to the soft spot in your neck. He still remembered every sensitive inch of your skin and used it against you all too willingly; wrapping his hands around your throat as he kissed and licked a pattern from your jaw to your neck.  

A breathy moan left your lips as he started to suck possessive marks onto your neck and you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, letting him do as he pleases, too entranced by the delicious feeling. You jumped up and he caught you by hooking his arms under your thighs, stabilizing you against the wall as you kept making out.

You giggled at his eagerness, a little flustered at the fact that you were in public; even though it was nighttime while being in a neglected alley; it still felt wrong.

He smirked against your neck when he felt you hesitate, and placed a soft yet wet kiss on your lips before letting go of you. He made sure you landed back on the ground safely, straightening out your clothes for you. “Maybe we should head back,” he says with a dark gaze, acting as if he didn’t just litter your neck with marks and bruises. He licked his pouty lips in amusement at the sight of what he had just done to you, knowing all too well that people would be able to see what happened while the two of you were gone.

You playfully shoved him aside, completely oblivious to how bad it really was but when you stepped into the elevator and saw your own reflection you gasped and shot Yeonjun a look of pure panic and distress. “YEONJUN!” you gasp loudly. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I’m sorry I just…couldn’t help myself.” he licked his lips again, cockiness emitting from his entire being. He inched closer to you to give you an innocent kiss on the top of your head and pulled the hair tie out of your hair, making your hair fall past your shoulders to cover the hickeys.

“This’ll do.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

He scoffed, casually smacking your ass in response.  

On the remaining way back to your apartment you were constantly fixing your clothes and hair, trying to let it nonchalantly fall to the front but you knew it looked rather ridiculous.

You had hoped your friends were too intoxicated to notice but when you stepped foot in your apartment with Yeonjun closely trailing behind you, all eyes were on you again.

How long were you two gone for? 10, maybe 20 minutes?

“Hyung.” Taehyun grabbed Yeonjun by his collar, turning him around which made Yeonjun frown at the younger one.

“For fucks sake.” Taehyun sighs dramatically, wiping something pink from the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth with his index finger.  

…it was your fucking lipgloss.

Yeonjun’s ears turned a bright red as he started to chuckle nervously. “Now I lost the fucking bet with Hueningkai. I thought it’d take at least a week before you two would start simping over each other again, it hasn’t even been an hour….AND OUTSIDE?” Taehyun sucks his teeth as a sign of disapproval, looking you up and down before his eyes lingered on your neck. “Animals. That’s it. That’s the description.”

“Pay up, loser. I told you.” Hueningkai cackles as he throws his arms around both Taehyun and Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“Y’all made a bet? An actual bet on our relationship?” you ask in pure disbelief. It was so like them to turn your emotional turmoil into their own amusement, but you couldn’t really be mad at them.

Your friends know the two of you better than anyone and probably saw this coming way before you did.

“Venmo me later.” Taehyun mumbles to Hueningkai in defeat while walking off, and you can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all.  

All of these months left in pure insecurity about your relationship with Yeonjun. Nights of pondering about your future, worrying if he had moved on or not. It was all for nothing

Yeonjun and you move like magnets, and no course of time could really drive you apart because when you’re reunited, you will always find your way back to each other. Always.

He looked at you a little dreamily, it still wasn’t sinking in that you were back. For good. And all his.

He snaked his arm around your waist as he stood behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as you told your friends all about your adventures.

He was clingy, you were clingy and neither of you was hiding it for anyone. You’ve had your fair share of secrets with Yeonjun and you were more than glad that those times were over with.

At around 4 AM most people left, and you were left alone with the boys, Ryujin and Mia.

You were on the couch, perfectly comfortable on Yeonjun’s lap as you leaned into his chest. One hand was rubbing your back in up and down motions while the other had found its way under your shirt and onto your waist. His cold fingertips grazed over your bare skin and suddenly it was way too hard to stay awake.

The chatter of your friends became background noise as your eyelids grew heavy. But you were shortly awakened out of your slumber as you felt Yeonjuns lips on your temple.  

“You must be so tired after that flight and this whole circus,” he whispered with an empathetic pout, yet all you could do was nod as a response.

He chuckled at your cuteness and fixed a piece of your hair, kissing your forehead again before you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s funny how nothing has changed, yet everything is different,” Beomgyu says as he stares at you and Yeonjun with a loving smile.

Beomgyu might be a little shit with a smart mouth, but he cares for his friends. Seeing the two of you be so content in each other's presence made love emit from his pupils. Even though Yeonjun had been doing so much better the best couple of months, nothing compares to the pure happiness and giddiness that Gyu was seeing from him now, and that was all because you were together again.

Beomgyu wasn’t the only one to notice, because it was literally all of them, and especially Soobin.

Soobin who literally rebelled against any type of relationship between you and Yeonjun was smiling at the sight of you in his arms fondly. His two best friends finally found solace in each other after all the shit that both of you had been through together, and it made him sentimental.

A year had passed since the two of you started dating unofficially, though this was the first time in that whole year that Soobin was completely okay with it.

You were long gone and off into dreamland by now as Yeonjun looked at you with a small smile on his lips, but when he looked up to check why everyone had stopped talking, he was met with six pairs of twinkling eyes on him.

His pupils darted back and forth between them in genuine confusion. “Why? What’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Soobin sighed contently. “For once, nothing is wrong.” he says as he leans forward to hug Mia from behind who was sitting between his legs on the floor.

Taehyun chuckled at Soobin’s dramatic statement and Hueningkai hummed in agreement.  

“Not to get all simpy or anything, but with her being back it feels like our little dysfunctional family is whole again.” Beomgyu mumbles as he let his head drop onto Ryujin’s shoulder.

“Let’s try to be less dysfunctional,” Hueningkai says with determination.  

“We can be less dysfunctional if you can clean up after yourselves and fold your own damn laundry so I don’t have to start a fight with you every 5 seconds,” Taehyun argues as he throws a pillow at Hueningkai's face. Making him laugh as he got in in the face with full force.

“Why can’t we just…have one peaceful moment…just one.” Soobin says rubbing his forehead in agony.

Yeonjun chuckled at the banter of his little brothers and looked back at you. “I don’t know guys, maybe that’s our charm,” he says leaving all of them in pure confusion as they looked at him for clarification.

“What do you mean by that.” Mia questions as she raises a brow at him.

“We’ll literally walk through fire to be there for each other, right? We go through things individually but will never fail to be there for each other in times of need, and I think we need to embrace our worst mistakes and arguments so we can grow from them. After all we’ve been through, I know we’ll be together forever. So, I say cheers to being dysfunctional,” He says with a proud smile, picking up his drink from the side table to raise it up in the air for a collective moment of cheers.

Dumbfounded by Yeonjun’s odd display of maturity and wise words, they all comply, raising their glasses in the air followed by a loud cheer to being “dysfunctional.”

The sudden loudness of their voices woke you up, completely out of it and sleep drunk; you lift your head from Yeonjun’s chest, squinting your eyes at your friends as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Did I miss anything?” you say, your voice laced with sleep and confusion.

They all burst out into laughter at your current state paired with your obliviousness and messy bed hair.

“Nah, just six months of incompleteness,”  Yeonjun says as he pecks your lips.

Mia stayed over that night and helped you unpack and clean your whole apartment the next day, which you were super grateful for but...you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish Yeonjun would’ve stayed the night.

The fact of the matter is that you haven’t had time for a serious talk with him yet, because you know, tongue punching each other was of higher priority than hashing things out with actual words. Which meant you hadn’t really talked about your relationship status or how things will be moving forward.

“The last game of the season is tonight. Are you going?” Mia asked as she plops down on your couch with you.

“The last one? Already?”

“Yeah we’re gonna go celebrate after.”

“Even if they lose?”

“Girl, you know they don’t lose.”  

You roll your eyes and laugh at Mia’s overconfidence in her boyfriends’ team. You were about to give her a definite answer before your phone started buzzing.

[Yeonjun, 12.44 PM]: Hi baby.

[Yeonjun, 12.45 PM]: Is it ok if I come over? I’ll bring us coffees from that café you love so much. 😌

[Y/N, 12.45 PM]: Yesss please 🥺

You giddily smile at your phone, wanting to squeal with excitement but you hold it in and Mia seems to notice. “Oh god, is it him?”

“Yeah, so.” you glare at her with playful intent “Let me be happy. He’s changed so drastically; I almost couldn’t believe that last night’s Yeonjun was the Yeonjun I left six months ago.”

“Yeah, he’s been working super hard to change and the whole thing with his mom helped too.”

“His mom? What do you mean?” You ask in genuine confusion, Mia bit her lip as she furiously shook her head. “Listen, I’m never, ever going to meddle in your relationship ever again. When he gets here, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement until your attention is averted to your phone again as it buzzes in your lap once more.

[Hyunjin, 12.46 PM]: Hey sweetheart, did you have a good flight?  

Oh….

Your eyes shoot to Mia’s in panic and she frowns, taking your phone out of your hold to read the message.

“Oh my god…is this your little slip-up?” she asks with disgust evident on her features.

“What do you mean slip up? I am a single woman,” you argue, but Mia wasn’t having it.

“AM?”

“WAS? GIRL, I DON’T KNOW. It was a fling, nothing more.”

“Flings don’t call you sweetheart and ask you how your flight was.” Mia says squinting her eyes at you.

“Mia…”

She sighed, visibly irritated with how naïve you were being, but you couldn’t have known that you’d fall back into Yeonjun’s arms that fast, and it’s not like you ever dated Hyunjin. He was just a friend…who you’ve slept with once.  

“Listen, girl. I love you...but after everything Yeonjun has put himself through to be a better man for you, you better ghost this motherfucker right now or else.”

“Jeez, I will. It’s not like I like the guy. And since when are you team Yeonjun?”

She relaxed at your statement, slouching back into the couch. “A lot has changed y/n. He was a good friend to me when you weren’t here, that’s all.”

You nod understandingly, realizing that Yeonjun and yourself have a lot to talk about; maybe even more than you had hoped for now that Hyunjin reminded you of his existence with a mere text message.

Mia left soon after, wanting to give Yeonjun and yourself some privacy for when he got here, which wasn’t long after she left.

You opened the door for him, and he smiled at you. He was wearing a black beanie, an oversized black t-shirt, and those damned gray sweatpants of his that you love so much. Your heart did a thing at the sight and he quickly kissed your cheek before he rushed his way into your living room, trying to find a place to set down the coffee cups that were burning his fingertips at the touch.

“Careful.” You mumble as you watch him struggle. When he put the coffees down on your salon table, he quickly made his way to you again to properly kiss you this time.

He cupped your face, pulling you into him as he started to steal chaste kisses from your lips. You giggled into the kisses as you tried to untangle yourself from him, slapping his chest playfully to shoo him away.

He let go with a smile, taking your hand to lead you to your couch. You could tell by his whole body language and the way he skipped through your apartment that he was happier than ever.

You hoped you wouldn’t ruin that happiness by telling him about Hyunjin, but it shouldn’t matter because he didn’t matter. You only wanted to tell him just so you weren’t keeping any secrets anymore; cause god knows how that went the last time.  

“How’d you sleep?” he asks you as he hands you your coffee. You happily take it from him and keep your eyes on him as you take a sip. “Fine, it was weird being in my own bed again, I missed it though.”

“Yeah? Anything else you missed?” his gaze was piercing into you as he took a sip of his Americano, fully aware that he was fishing for an ego boost.

“Theres this guy I kinda missed, I guess his name is Yeonjun.” You shrug as you take another sip; your flirty playfulness is one of the things that he loved about you, it kept things spicy.

“Oh him? He wanted me to tell you that he kinda missed you too,” he says with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

You chuckle. “Good.”

Suddenly the two of you fell quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward quietness; it was more of a realization that your endless flirting had to turn into somewhat of a serious conversation.

“Yeonjun…”

“Hmm?” his eyes softened at the way you called his name, he set his coffee aside turning to you completely to show you that he was listening attentively.

You sigh, not knowing what else to say other than the following. “I love you and I want to be with you.”

His eyes grow in size, a little shook by your directness but he composed himself as he fixed his posture quickly. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

“I mean it, but I need to be honest with you too,”

“About what?”

“While I was at Brown, I kind of…flirted off and on with one of my lab partners and well…I slept with him…once. I swear it was only once and I-” he cut you off by raising his hand so you’d stop your nervous rambling and sighed. He knew exactly who you were talking about, because he had seen that motherfucker all over Instagram and had honestly seen this confession coming from miles away. 

He was glad you told him though, cause he'd feel worse if you tried to hide it from him.

Though you didn’t post about him, Hyunjin did post about you, and basically tagged you in all of his Insta stories or group pictures. Yeonjun shamelessly cyberstalked the guy. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments, but he had to just to stay sane.  

“Baby, we were broken up. You don’t have to justify what you did or didn’t do at that time. It’s not like I expected you to turn into a nun.”  

You raise your brows in surprise at his mature response. “You’re not mad?”

“No. As long as it’s over with.”

“It is, I promise.”  

“Good,” he sucked his teeth as he watched you. “Also, it’s not like anyone can fuck you as well as I can,” he states with a devious smirk as he pulled you close, making you gulp in response to his choice of words.

He chuckles at how easily intimidated you were by him and takes the opportunity to tease you.  

“Did he?”  

“N-no.” you stutter, innocently staring up at him. “He didn’t”

“Good girl.” He says, biting his lip while letting his thumb ghost over your lower lip.

His choice of words made your stomach turn but you knew better than to let lust get the best of you once again.

“Yeonjun…” you breathe his name like a warning, trying to avert the tension. “We…we need to talk.”

“We can talk.” He shrugs, pulling your legs towards him aggressively so you’d slide down. Your back was now on the couch as he parted your legs, settling himself in between them before hovering over you to kiss over the bruises he left last night. “After I give you a little reminder.” He smiles against your skin, pulling your shirt over your bra so he could kiss a trail down to your belly button.

“God I missed you,” he says digging his nails into your waist. "So fucking much."

(Warning: heavy smut ahead!)

Your mind goes into overdrive as he unties the tie to your sweatpants, and as he does so you stare at the outline that had formed in his own.

He didn’t waste any time, pulling down the waistband of your joggers with one swift motion while you helped him by lifting your hips off the couch.

He discarded of your clothes faster than your mind could comprehend but then you noticed that he was fully clothed, when the only thing you were wearing by now were your panties.

You pouted, pulling at his waistband but he grabbed your wrist, pinning your hands above your head so he could look at you, beautiful, bare, and all his.  

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His lips found their way to the sensitive nub of your breast as he eagerly licked and sucked on it while his fingers found their way onto your still clothed heat.

He rubbed his middle and index finger over your clit, making you moan at the sudden stimulation.

He pulled away, making his way down to your core as he littered your inner thigh with more and more hickeys.

You were eagerly moving your hips by now, trying to get him to kiss you where you wanted him most, but he was taking his sweet time and you were losing your patience.

“Y-Yeonjun…” you moan his name. He finally rewards you by pulling your panties aside. Licking his lips at your glistening arousal, ready to feast on you as if it was the last meal he’d ever have.

“Fuck.” He says with admiration to no one in particular, placing a soft kiss on your pussy before he started to slowly kitten-lick your sensitive nub. He lowly hummed in approval at the taste of you and fastened his pace slowly.

You gasped, arching your back to give him better access as he started to eat you out like you’ve never experienced in your life.

His skill was baffling, he had your brain melting and legs shaking while he struggled to keep you still.

“Ah…” you arch your back once more, trying to get away from the overstimulation but he held you down with his strong arms.

“Who are you running from baby, stay still.” He ordered with a low voice before getting back to business, and with ten more seconds, he had you cumming in his mouth as the vibration of his low hums drove you over the edge. You cover your own mouth to muffle your loud cries, but he pulled your hands away from your face, wanting to hear you fall apart for him.

“That’s it baby.” he mused in approval, finishing you off with one last lick before he came back up to assess your fucked out state. “So fucking good for me.”  

Your chest was heaving up and down rapidly as you were trying to catch your breath. Once again you lost to the charms of Choi Yeonjun, but he was nowhere near done with you.

He quickly got rid of his own clothes and pumped himself a few times while looking straight into your eyes.

This man is a god, and he knew it.

His mischief returned when he realized you were watching him. “I think I got you wet enough, right baby?”

You almost forgot about his grit, your mouth salivating at the sight. Any slick you could build with him was a gift, because the last thing you wanted was for him to start a fire down there, cause that’s just how big he was.

You sit up which surprised him, but when you spit in your hand and pumped him a few times to slick him up some more he chuckled lowly as he realized what you were doing. He moaned in the form of a sharp exhale as your pace fastened, but he didn’t let you take control just yet.

“Scared?” he teased, keeping his eyes on you as you twisted your wrist a little more.

“No.” you huff.

“Then turn around.”  

You comply without a thought. You were both sitting up on your knees while your back leaned against his chest. You threw your head back and he kissed your forehead sweetly. guiding himself into you while his other hand held onto your waist to stabilize you against him.

You curse at the stretch, digging your nails into his thighs for leverage as he fills you up.

You both moan as your walls clenched around him. His arms snaked around you from behind as he took a hold of your neck, pinching down on the veins on each side of your throat as he slammed his hips into you continuously with long and deep strokes.

The choking sensation made everything so much more intense, especially when the fingers of his other hand started to rub circles on your still abused clit.

Your eyes rolled back as your vision got blurry, tears prickling your eyes at how good you were being wrecked right now.

He let go of your neck, putting his hand on the small of your back to push you down on the couch so your ass was up, and your face was down.

He started to pound into you mercilessly, his rhythm and pace perfectly alternating as he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You’re mine,” he grunted as he felt himself getting closer and closer by the physical stimulation of your tightness and the mental stimulation of your moans and mewls.

It didn’t take long before you both reached your highs as he was prone boning you into heaven.

Your orgasm washes over you, and right after you came, he reached his own high.  

He pulled out right before he busted, releasing himself onto your back with a loud growl.  

Your eyes flutter closed; way too fucked out to function as you catch your breath. You feel his weight move off of you to grab one of the napkins on your side table that came with the coffees, and wiped his cum off of you with a cocky smile on his face.

You built up the energy to look back at him, and when your eyes meet all you can do is giggle with him at how ridiculous you two are.

“So…I guess now we can talk,” he says with a smirk.

- end of smut -

Once you fully recovered from having your back blown out…quite literally. You came out of your bedroom after a quick change of clothes.

You walk into your living room while you pull a clean shirt over your head.

 Yeonjun was still on your couch, watching you with a big boyish smile on his face as his gaze followed you.

“All good?” he asks, opening his arms for you. You nod in response, excitedly making your way into his arms. He moved you on top of him so you were on his lap and kissed your cheek sweetly.

“Where do we even start.” You think out loud as you start playing with Yeonjun’s hair. He threw his head back in solace, letting you massage his scalp softly.

You chuckle at his reaction, stopping your actions which made him lift his head up immediately, giving you a kittenish angry face. “Why’d you stop.”

“Because it’s been an hour since you got here and all we do is dance around the subject,” you say as you move off of him. You turn sideways, leaning against the armrest of your couch while you drape your legs over his lap and sigh.

After deciding that Yeonjun would go first, he told you everything. From the progress he has made with his therapist to the baffling information of his mother selling Choi Enterprises and moving closer to the Uni for him. He told you about their relationship and his interest in the fashion industry. He’s been spending time with his friends in the dance studio again after years of neglecting his hobby and his grades are improving drastically compared to last year too.

He’s been doing well both mentally and socially. Even though he still has his bad days, he’s a lot happier than he was before. You listened attentively asking questions and making sure you understood every detail to your best ability.

When it was your turn to start talking, you realize just how sadistic your exchange was now that you’re explaining the details out loud. You told him about the crazy schedules, spending days from 8 am to 10 pm in the lab, neglecting your health just to forget about your heartache. You were being brutally honest, and you saw Yeonjun’s jaw clench at the revelation.  

If he knew you were having such a hard time, he would’ve contacted you more, but you explained to him how the experience made you stronger, harder and less of a cry baby.  

You spoke about your new gained independence and soon realized that, where Yeonjun needed emotional cradling, you needed to be hit with the real world without the safety net that your friends and parents always provided for you.

The two of you had been talking for over two hours, and finally came to the inevitable question.

“So…what does that make us.” You sigh as you played with his fingers.  

“Really, the ‘what are we’ question?” he chuckled, watching you play with the ring on his index finger.

“Well. Do you have an answer?” you mumble, letting go of his hand.

“I’m yours,” he says, putting his hand on your thigh while his other hand tugged on your chin to make you look up at him.

Your eyes grew in size, swallowing harshly when his fingers moved from your chin to caress your cheek. “And I don’t want to take things slow anymore, I love you too much to relive the dating phase."

“Me too,” you agree with determination. He smirked contently, leaning into you to feverishly kiss you on the lips.

“You know what that was?” He asks as he pulls away with his face still in close proximity.

“What?” you question with a giggle.

“Our first kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend.”  

You slap his chest, bursting into laughter at his cheesiness. The sound of your laughs and giggles filled the room as he started to kiss you all over your face and neck, leaving you breathless and ticklish at his touch

“I love you, Choi Yeonjun, but I think you have an important basketball game to get to.”

Of course they won.  

Yeonjun made the winning point which meant he had something to brag about all night.

You were at a local diner with all of the boys, their teammates, and respective girlfriends or boyfriends. Drinking, talking, and overall having a good time.

When Mia, Ryujin, Soobin, Taehyun, Beomgyu and Hueningkai heard the news about your new relationship status, they basically congratulated you as if you announced that you were getting married.  

The whole thing was just way too funny, and Yeonjun dragged you around all night to introduce you to everyone.  

The freshman on the team were so confused when Yeonjun introduced you as his girlfriend because they had never heard of or seen you before.  

“Hyung, Imma be honest with you, I kinda thought you were gay.” Sunghoon admits as he apologetically scratched the back of his head.

“…S-same” Heesung states, looking at you both with apologetic eyes as well.

Yeonjun looked at them a little funny as he burst into laughter, pulling you closer to him. “Why?”  

“Because well, we haven’t seen you with a girl all year, and with the way you look, I don’t know. 1+1 was gay I guess.” Jay, another freshman explained their point of view a little further, which had you cackling at the situation.

“Oh my god, so you little shits were the ones spreading rumors about me and Wooyoung!?”  

“N-no! NO!” The kids protested, but Yeonjun was already playfully grabbing them by their collars to scold them.

You laughed at the whole ordeal, love emitting from your eyes as you watched Yeonjun be in his popular guy element again.

You zoned out for a bit, absentmindedly listening to how Beomgyu and Hueningkai were telling a story about that one time they took Yeonjun’s car for a joyride in the middle of the night without his permission.  

Yeonjun noticed your mental absence, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, softly kissing your temple.

“What’s wrong?”  

You shake your head, sentiment getting the better of you. This is the most complete you’ve felt in a while.

You kissed him with fervor, your hands lacing through his dark locks before you pulled away to place a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m just really happy right now,” you say as you smile at each other lovingly.

1 year later.

Graduation was around the corner.

It was insane how fast time flew. You celebrated your first-year anniversary with Yeonjun the night before and were now laying in his bed the next morning, slowly waking up just to feel the soreness of what he did to you last night.

You groaned in agony at the bright light, even after all this time; you still weren’t a morning person.

You noticed how Yeonjun was missing from the bed, so you got up to look for him. Putting on his large shirt to cover yourself as you made your way to the boys’ living room.

Soobin was on the couch with Taehyun and Hueningkai looking you up and down with disapproval.

“Jesus. Did you get hit by a truck in there?” Taehyun asks as he clicked his tongue.

“Shut up smart-ass. Where’s Yeonjun?”  

Taehyun chuckled, being completely used to your grumpiness in the morning by now. If Yeonjun wasn’t staying at your place, you were staying at theirs; so they were more accustomed to having you around like this.  

“He said he had to run a quick errand; he’ll be back soon,” Soobin replies with light amusement in his eyes at how roughed up you looked.

“Hey, next time…be a little more quiet.” Beomgyu tells you as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.  

“My room is next to Yeonjun’s you know.”

“Oh shut up hyung, I hear you and Ryujin almost every night,” Hueningkai says rolling his eyes, which made you crack your first smile of the day.

“Oh nooo, not my pure baby Hueningie” Soobin pouted as he trapped Kai in between his legs for a hug.

“Hyung, you’re gonna have to let go soon. Literally. When you guys graduate you don’t get to live here and baby me anymore.” Hueningkai protests as he tries to push Soobin off of him.

Soobin pouted, making you immediately feel bad for him. 

When Yeonjun and Soobin would move out, Jay and Heesung would move in, which meant that Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had to hold down the fort as seniors for one more year until they graduated, and the thought alone made Soobin feel uneasy.

Soobin and Mia were officially moving in together after graduation. They had planned their whole futures together and both had job offers in the city from their internships.

“I’ll still come over…every…weekend. You know, just to make sure.”

You drift off into thought, realizing how Yeonjun and yourself have been living your lives in the moment without concrete plans for the future together.

Since your apartment was off-campus you still got to live there after graduation. You had gotten an amazing job offer because of your research at Brown, which had major corporations battle it out with outrageous contracts, salaries, and promises to your favor so your options were most definitely open.

Your future looked bright, as did Yeonjun’s who’d be working as a Creative Director for his mothers’ luxury brand...but how did you two miss the mark on planning a future together?

Were you that caught up in your own world to realize that adult decisions had to be made soon?

Yeonjun walked in, interrupting your thoughts. “Oh, hey guys.”

He set his keys on the kitchen counter, giving you a funny look. “I texted you to get ready.”

“Oh..shit, I didn’t check my phone, Sorry. Give me 20 minutes.”

You didn’t question why he wanted you to get ready, he’d probably take you out for breakfast or some shit, so you weren’t suspecting anything, but Yeonjun could sense that something was off about you.

During the car ride to your unknown destination, he looked at you as you stared out of the window. You were lost in deep thought about the whole graduation thing and didn’t even notice how the houses on the streets were starting to get ridiculously big as you drove further and further into a random neighborhood

He grabbed your hand, kissing the inside of your palm while rubbing those comforting circles into your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to look at the road while also looking at you from time to time.

“I’m just…worried about life after graduation. I don’t like change.”

Yeonjun raised his brows in surprise, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he turned the corner into a brand-new built street filled with massive villas.

The neighborhood looked peaceful, not too flashy and private. Maybe even a little too perfect to be real.

He pulled up to a random house, parking his car on the driveway. The confusion was evident on your face as he opened the door for you, reaching out to take your hand.

He helped you out of the car and you give him a look, chuckling at his awkwardness. “Uh…are we here to see someone?”

He sighed, back hugging you and leaning his head on your shoulder as the both of you looked up at the house.

“What do you think of this place?”

“It’s…beautiful. But I don’t really get why we’re here.” You giggle as you feel him kiss your neck and you turn around to face him, trying to find answers in his eyes.

“If you want…we can stay here.” He bit his lip nervously. “You know, after graduation.”

“W-what? I’m confused. Like Till The End of Summer?”

He shook his head, laughing once again while snaking his arms around your waist at your innocence and obliviousness. “You’re so cute,” he muses, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket and suddenly realization hit you as pure shock takes over your features.  

He bought the fucking house.  

He couldn’t help but laugh at your shocked Pikachu face. He had been planning this behind your back for so long and it was incredibly hard to keep this a secret, especially since literally everyone knew about it but you.  

You didn’t know what to do or say, completely frozen and shocked as you look at the house with big watery eyes.  

He pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, giving you the keys to the front door with a big smile.  

“Till the End of Our Lives.”  

Bonus Chapter 15

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Team Mom: Go Go Go Go Go Seijoh! Advisor's Affection Pt. 1

⚠️WARNING 18+ CONTENT⚠️

Warnings: Swearing (if you know you know), major fluff, daddy kink, kissing, protective Mizoguchi, slight age gap (like 7 years, all consenting adults), male and female oral sex, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control before timeskip, please use protection), breeding kink, ddlg dynamics, soft dom Mizoguchi, spit play, pregnancy at the end of the fic, bad explanation of volleyball, major bullying of one Torū Oikawa.

Word count: 11,000+ (at this point I have nothing to say. I had to break it into 4 parts 😫)

"Calm down, it's not like you are the one back in school," Y/N says nervously to herself "you are the instructor now, not the student. Everything is fine."

Everything was not fine.

Today was your first day teaching at Aoba Johsai. To say you were nervous would be a gross understatement. You had woken up early to get ready. Wearing a pencil skirt and a nice sweater lightly tucked into the front of the skirt. Your hair falling around your shoulders as you slipped on your black pumps. You look in the mirror. You don't think you even felt this nervous on your actual first day of high school so many years ago. Now, here you were, standing at the entrance to one of the powerhouse schools of Miyagi Prefecture. You had heard many things about this school, mainly their reputation for being a top athletic school. You had your work cut out for you.

After you graduated university a semester early, you enrolled in graduate school to study world history. You loved history and everything it entailed. You loved to read everything from the detailed plans of Alexander the Greats conquests to the detailed study of the Habsburg Monarchy. Nothing got your engines roaring more than a good historical analysis. You spent almost your entire college career locked away reading. You really didn't mind. You had friends and had the "university experience". You didn't regret a single thing you did while you were there.

When you graduated with your Bachelors of Liberal Arts in History, you decided to attend graduate school immediately after instead of looking for work. You knew your chances of find a high paying job would be more fruitful if you had more credentials. You studied hard, graduating with top honors. In fact, that's what landed you at Aoba Johsei. You knew competing for the job was enviable. It was great pay, amazing benefits and had great hours. The vice principal was very impressed by your credentials. You were so young, yet had achieved so much.

The previous History teacher had retired last year, leaving a position open. You were able to secure the spot after a grueling 3 rounds of interviews.

This was it, your future and you were about to throw up!

You walked into the school as you headed to the main office, introducing yourself to a kind women working the front desk.

"L/N Y/N here to see Vice Principal Tati please ma'am" you smile as you bow.

"Ah Miss L/N, it's so very nice to see you again" you turn as you hear a voice from behind you.

"Please sir, call me Y/N and it's a pleasure to see you as well" you smiled as your bowed.

"Please follow me and I'll show you your office space" he gestured as you followed behind him.

"I'm sure you are familiar with our teaching model Y/N" Vice Principal Tati says. You knew the students stayed in one classroom as the teachers rotated. It was much easier for the students to stay in one place during the day and for the teachers to transition.

You nodded "yes sir."

"Please call me Ren" he said as he turned to you "no need to be so formal with your fellow instructors Y/N, we are all equal here."

You smile as he leads you outside. You pass by a few gyms as you hear what you think is a ball hitting the floor. You look around to see a ball fly out the open door. You quickly move to get the ball as it rows down the sidewalk. You hear a voice says "I'll get it" as you pick up the volleyball.

A tall boy with curly hair appeared in the door way as you look up from the volleyball. At this point you'll have to run to catch up to Ren as he's still walking and talking like you are right behind him.

You smile at the boy "here you go" you say as you toss up the ball, spiking it in his direction.

Damn baby you still got it

The boy catches the ball and stare, eyes wide with disbelief as you smile.

"MATSUKAWA" you hear a voice come from behind him. A tall blonde male appears behind him.

"Matsukawa I've been call-" he stops as his breath hitches.

Fuck you are gorgeous

You smile, bowing to both the boy and the man as you race to catch up to the vice principal, who is still walking and talking.

Matsukawa takes the ball, throwing it back into the gym while the man stands looking at you as you run to catch up with the vice principal. He had to know who you were.

You finally catch up to Ren as he turns around "Well that should be everything Y/N! This is your desk, please feel free to ask for any assistance you may need" he smiles as you nod. You sit down at your desk unpacking your items. You begin to work on lesson plans for your students as school started in a few days. Your thoughts drift back to the volleyball incident.

It had been years since you played. You played throughout high school as a wing spiker. You love the game but you couldn't justify continuing with the sport. As much as you loved volleyball, you couldn't see it becoming a profession. So you stopped playing as soon as you graduated. Your team even made it to nationals a few times. You smile at the thought as you continue to prepare you lesson plans for the upcoming school year.

This is going to be a great year!

🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐🏐

A few weeks had gone by and everything was going well. You were getting into the routine of classes and establishing a good start. You taught first, second and third years which you enjoyed. The wide range of material was right up your alley. Things were settling well.

"Soooo" Hanamaki Takahiro looked at his fellow third years "the new history teacher. Am I right or am I right?"

"You're right" Matsukawa Issei said "fucking phenomenal. History might actually be new favorite subject."

"Can you guys not be so shallow please for fucks sake" Iwaizumi Hajime said as he shut his locker.

"Come on Iwaizumi, you have to admit, learning about the Roman empire is way more fun when you get to look at that" Hanamaki said as he smiled. Iwaizumi sighed.

He had to admit you were beautiful.

I mean you are!

Plus you were kind and understanding of the athletes of the school. Often you would give extra work time during class or not assign work for outside of school hours. It was much appreciated by the wing spiker as sometimes the homework along with volleyball became overwhelming.

"Plus she's got some volleyball skills too" Matsukawa said nonchalantly as he turned to head to class.

"What?" Iwaizumi and Hanamaki said simultaneously.

"Yeah last week I went to get a ball that rolled out of the gym, she sent with back with an almost perfect serve" Matsukawa shrugged "I mean I don't know if she plays or if it was a fluke but she must know something."

Hanamaki and Iwaizumi looked at each other.

"Yoohoo Iwa-chan" a voice called from the end of the hall way. Matsukawa and Hanamaki snickered as their brown haired volleyball captain approached.

"What is it Oikawa, I'm busy" Iwaizumi spat.

"I was just wondering if anyone had any ideas for a volleyball advisor. We need a teacher and asap" Oikawa Torū said.

"What about Mr. Morgan. I mean he seems like he'd be good" Hanamaki chimed in. "Nope he's with the basketball team" Matsukawa entered "Maybe Mrs. Chen? I mean she's not much for sports but it's not like she really needs to be involved."

"Nah I'm getting a C in her class and I don't want to deal with that" Hanamaki shrugged. The bell chimed signaling the start of the next period.

"Off to class boys" you sang as you walked past the boys gathered at the locker.

"Yes Miss L/N" they said happily as they watched you walk to class.

"Let's meet at lunch to talk about it more" Oilawa said as he threw up his hand an walked away. The others dispensed to their designated class rooms.

Iwaizumi had History. Honestly before you started it was one of his favorite classes. He excelled in memorizing and found it very fascinating. Now that you were teaching, it was definitely his favorite class. It was true that you were pretty to look at and Iwaizumi, along with the entire male population of Aoba Johsai, had a puppy crush on you, but you actually made learning fun. You had a passion for history and often explained it in a way that almost anyone could comprehend. It was a fun class and you learned alot. It really was a win win.

Iwaizumi made his way into your class and took his seat. You were writing today's lesson on the board as the class settled in their seats. The second bell chimed as you turned to begin your discussion.

"Today, I thought we'd take a break from the normal. I know it's only been a few weeks but I'm bored" you laugh as the students chuckle and giggle "as much as I love the conquests of the world, they sometimes can get a bit dull."

"Since it's Thursday and we have a test coming next week, I thought maybe we'd play a little game to help us review. What do you say" you smile as the class cheers. You reach into your bag pulling out a volleyball.

Iwaizumi's eyes widen.

"I dont have any other objects we can throw around the room, so we will just use my volleyball" you smile "please treat it kindly and try not to break any noses." The class laughs.

You explain the game to the class. You tell them that they will each throw the ball around the room to one another, answering prep questions for the next test. If you drop the ball, you have to answer two questions or your out. The last one standing is the winner.

The game proceeds effortlessly. Iwaizumi and another student remain. The student drops of the ball as Iwaizumi tosses her a perfect set.

Your eyes sparkle at his technique.

The game ends with Iwaizumi being the winner. The bell chimes for lunch as everyone files out. Iwaizumi stands and proceeds to your desk to give you back the volleyball.

"Umm here you go Miss L/N" he looks down ad he hands you the ball. "Thank you Hajime, you did excellent! Both in answering questions and in receiving and setting. I can see why you're the ace of Aoba Johsai" you smile at him. He looks up blushing.

"Thank you ma'am. I didn't know you played" he looked at you through his eyelashes.

"Oh yes years ago" you smile "I was a wing spiker as well. But then I got older and realized I couldn't make a living off volleyball. I still like to play occasionally as you can probably tell. Now you better get to lunch. Don't want our star volleyball player to go hungry on my account."

Iwaizumi smiled and he bid you farewell and walked to meet his fellow third years. They were gathered outside under a tree with several other members of the volleyball team.

"Iwa-chan" Oikawa waved frantically as Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. He set his stuff down and proceeded to get his lunch out. Everyone was talking amongst themselves until the topic of an advisor resurfaced.

"I just talked to Coach Irihata and we need an advisor asap before the fall tournament" Oikawa said as he looked to each player. The boys were stumped. They knew the advisor didn't have to have any volleyball skills to be apart of the team, but they would have to sacrifice time and weekends off to attend tournaments and training camps plus daily practices. It was a large commitment.

Iwaizumi stopped "what about Miss L/N?" He said out loud as the boys seized conversation.

"As in the hot history teacher, Miss L/N" Matsukawa interjected.

"Please stop and also yes" Iwaizumi grumbled "I talked with her after class and she told me she use to play volleyball in high school. I mean if anything she would be an asset to the team."

The boys all stared in disbelief.

"I have her next period" Oikawa rose his hand as if to answer a question "I'll talk with her and see if she'd be interested."

"Oh great we'll never get an advisor at this rate" Kunimi Akira said rolling his eyes. The team burst out laughing as Oikawa sulked.

After lunch, Oikawa proceeded to his class. They did a similar activity to what Iwaizumi had described. Oikawa had of course won.

"Oh Miss L/N, you look beautiful today! What an excellent idea for class" Oikawa said as he turned on his charm.

You knew much about Oikawa Torū. He was the talk of many of your classes, specifically amongst the female population. You had to admit, the kid was smart and charming.

"Thank you Torū, congrats on winning" you said softly as you gathered your items preparing to leave.

"Miss L/N if you don't mind, Iwa-chan mentioned you were a former volleyball player, is that correct?" Oikawa said smiling.

You smiled back "I knew it would make its way around fast but I didn't think this fast." You laugh as you speak "yes I played for a few years in high school and in college a little but I was nothing to write home about."

Oikawa stared as you spoke. You became unsure of what was happening as he continued to stare.

"Miss L/N, as the captain of the Aoba Johsai Volleyball team, I'd like to formally invite you to be our team's advisor" he smiled happily as your eyes widened.

"Team what" you looked at him with eyes widened.

"Team advisor ma'am. You see each team needs a teacher advisor. You really don't do much. It's honestly just a requirement by the school. Our previous advisor retired and well we need a new one as soon as possible" he said looking at you with a growing smile.

"Oh Torū I appreciate the offer but I'm not really cut out to be a team advisor. I'm not good at volleyball really" you say meekly.

"Oh no ma'am. You don't have to participate. We just need someone to help accompany us on trips, talk with parents, etc. It's a rather big time commitment so I understand if you cant" Oikawa trails off.

You sigh "Torū, I'm not concerned about the time commitment. I just feel like I wouldn't be a good fit for you guys. I mean I'd really be no asset" you say as you are suddently cut off.

"My apologies Miss L/N but you seem like a perfect fit for our team. The students all like you and you are fun to be around. (Plus majority gorgeous) please just stop by, talk with Coach Irihata and Coach Mizoguchi at practice tonight. Stay and watch. I promise you won't regret it" Oikawa pleads as you smile softly.

"Ok Torū ok ill stop by" you smile. "Oh thank you Miss L/N!! Thank you so much! The team will be so excited" Oikawa scretches as he bows, walking quickly from the class room."

I guess it can't hurt to observe on practice you thing as you pack up your bag, heading to your next class.

[babbushka]

hi this might be weird to ask but i don't have anyone to ask that i'm comfortable with. i'm having a crisis but feel free to ignore it, i don't want to be a burden. um i went to college for a year and a half, only because the people around wanted me to and i spend most of my life doing things that people told me to. after i had gotten a really bad grade and was told if i failed again, i'll be kicked out of the college. anyway with that i got worried and wasn't really liking my program. 1/2

i didn't really know what to do with myself and just accepted what was asked of me. i secretly took a semester off in january 2021 but i'm going back this semester which i'm dreading it. i didn't do anything relevant the time i took off of college. so i feel like even if i didn't go this semester, i probably won't do anything with myself either. i'm just so confused and lost and don't know what to do... you feel like someone you give great advices and idk sorry if this is a bother xx 2/2

Hello my dear anon, you're not a burden or a bother, please don't worry about that. I'm more than happy to give my thoughts on this, but I hope you know that at the end of the day, you have to do what you believe is best for you in this current situation.

I'm going to put this under a cut because it's long, but I hope that you (or anyone in a similar situation) find it helpful in any way. Sending you love!

Firstly, I want to just say that I personally don't believe that traditional american 4-year college is the right thing for everyone. I feel like society puts so many expectations on us to perform well academically, without giving us the time or the resources to really excel. That being said, I do believe that when you have the right resources, you can excel.

I'd like to give a very quick personal example, if I may: when my brother was much younger, he was designated gifted, so in third grade they put him in the gifted class. However in fourth grade, they put him in a non-gifted class, and he failed every single subject miserably, like literally got Fs in every subject (this was because he refused to do work he had already done the grade before). The school refused to allow him to do other work, and he spent most of his time sitting in a corner.

Once my moms found out about that, they took him out of that school, put him into a different school where they actually recognized he needed a different curriculum, and on his next report card he got A+s and now he's in a masters program for mathematics and statistical analysis.

The reason I bring this up, is because I think that in so many cases, we sometimes feel like just because we're in one situation, we're going to be stuck there forever. And this is 100% not the case. You have the power to change the course of your academic life, if you are so unhappy with the way it's going.

If your program is causing you stress, it might really help to see what other programs are offered at your school and if your already earned credits will transfer.

If the school itself isn't giving you the help or the structure you need, look into transferring somewhere else, whether that be a community college, a trade or vocational school, an online university, whatever is going to help you the most.

I know people who were engineers before switching to fine arts, I know people who were sculptors before switching to education, I know people who are just trying to power through and get an AA or a BA in liberal arts just so that all the time, money, and energy that have already been spent don't go to waste. It is never too late to change your course. And even if you do arrive at the conclusion that formal continued education is not right for you, there are so many other directions in life that you can take. You have time to discover them, I promise.

I personally have always loved academia, but I know first hand how much of a crisis this feeling of not knowing what to do can be. Ultimately (and this may seem counter-productive) I think you have to really listen to what you need. It could be as simple as changing your perspective by entering a new program, but it could also be realizing that traditional college isn't right for you.

At the end of the day, I know that it's very easy to want to give up, but I don't think that's fair to you. I think that you owe it to yourself to see what changes you can make so that the past year and a half haven't been for nothing. Talk to the people at your college, talk to your professors and advisors -- you're already paying for them to help you. I think that you'd be surprised to know that there are so many choices and opportunities, once you figure out where the real problem lies, and can work forward from there.

I hope that everything works out for you my dear anon, and again, I'm sending you all my love.

[teruthecreator]

THS IS A ROBBERY 🔫YOUR ROLESWAP LORE!!! HAND IT OVER 🤲if u want 2 :)

just took my melatonin bc i have to wake up at 4:30 AM to drive 16 hours to my mother’s so i’m sorry if this becomes derailed but uh. here’s the roleswap lore! or, at least, everything i’ve decided (along with matthew and corinne bc the three of us tagteamed on it) 

gonna chuck it all under a readmore bc this is going to get long

so first off, just gonna run out in front and say i have no idea how this fits into graduation plot. i haven’t gotten that in plot consideration, given their character differences in comparison to their canonical selves. so, for the most part, it’s a lot of background establishment and character traits. but i do have a few plot bits that i’ve figured out bc i thought it was cool. why such a long preamble? i don’t know. help me

fitzroy maplecourt: 

first off, he’s not called sir!!! because he doesn’t go to knight school! 

my idea for his backstory is that the way he decides to grapple with his identity crisis/imposter syndrome (which he definitely Still has) is that instead of becoming a grander, larger than life version of himself. he just. goes the opposite.

not necessarily becoming a degenerate (bc he just smokes pot and that’s not bad he’s just vibing)??? but more just like. leaning into the laid-back nature of life that one might pick up from a lifetime in rural country. 

he goes to a liberal arts school a ways away and just decides to bum around and take life not seriously. he develops a pretty large group of acquaintances being a hippie stoner; he doesn’t really pursue a degree either. i think if he picked up any major it was probably like. an art major or an english but he basically fails most of his classes bc he doesn’t care! 

unlike his canonical counterpart, fitzroy doesn’t mind being called nicknames!! ones i think he has the most are fitz or roy, but basically you could call him anything and he’ll respond. that is because, instead of clinging to the concept of his identity bc it’s the only thing he feels he has, his identity is nebulous!! he doesn’t understand it and it scares him too much to be concrete, so he just lets people decide shit about him for him. 

his personal philosophy is more about floating through life and letting people assume shit about him than having a solid personality and backstory that people understand and recognize. it is a more dissociative way of having an identity crisis! how fun! he also barely talks about his past, and what he does talk about are cherrypicked points of his past that fit his narrative of being a casual down-to-earth hippie

 the moment that this all changes is when order decides to pop in and grant him powers!!!! wahoo!!!! here’s how that happens: 

he’s baked out of his fucking gourd in his dorm room, in the spring semester of his junior year. he’s alone (which is rare) and he’s maybe a little sad, but he decides to just ignore it. he looks at his table and laughs. “hehe, what if this table just. blew up?” he says to himself. it isn’t that funny, but he laughs. then he lays his hand on the table. 

the table blows up.

after that, he has magic!!! 

i’m going to go into detail a little bit later about how fitzroy’s magic manifests in the roleswap universe, but i wanna get through the backstory first. basically, he gets really freaked out after his magic comes to him because it is So New and Wow What and What The Fuck.

he realizes that this new addition to his character Completely changes how people who know him would perceive him (as a bum stoner chill guy), and he can no longer have control of his narrative with this magic business. so he drops out!

well, he actually just transfers. to a school far, far away where people will never know who he was and he can rebuild his narrative with this magic incorporated into it. he chooses wiggenstaff’s because he figures the school would have more of a knowledge of magic than his libarts school, which would mean he could understand why the fuck weed gave him magic (sidenote: it wasn’t weed, obvs, but he thinks this so for a while he doesn’t smoke!) 

he is now the chill hippie of wiggenstaff’s!!! most people like him because his personality is fairly easy to digest; some people think he shouldn’t be there, but he is! he starts out as a sidekick and he would’ve honestly been fine with that forever, but then he’s suddenly thrust into the hero track!!! wow!!!! i will also explain this with the magic. 

but yeah!! that’s fitzroy, for the most part. now we’ll move onto the other boy

argonaut keene:

he actually prefers if people call him argonaut, but he’s less likely to correct people than canon fitzroy Or canon argo. he’s a tad bit shyer in this universe!

argo’s backstory pretty much follows the same idea of his canonical background, but with some key differences that shape him into the character he is in the present! 

basically he still grows up on shebrie’s ship, surrounded by crewmates and the salty sea air. but his fascination with the sea doesn’t manifest into this swashbuckling lifestyle that he has in canon. 

what fascinates him more is the ship itself. how it functions, how water wears down wood, how directional currents can affect navigation. basically, he becomes invested in the sciences part of sealife more than the pirateering. he has special interests in marine biology, but his heart remains in nautical engineering. figuring out ways to make the ship run better, faster, and more efficiently consumes his childhood thoughts!

shebrie encourages her son’s craving for knowledge with tomes and books from all over the world about anything related to engineering and nautical things. he’s homeschooled, basically, but he becomes rather intelligent within a few short years! 

and then, well....shebrie dies. yeah we aren’t escaping that finality, sorry folks. that part of canon Still Applies.

after shebrie’s death (coughMURDERcough), argo is. traumatized! and he makes the decision to almost entirely sever himself from his life on the sea. it’s all too painful to look back upon--the times he spent studying with his mother in the captain’s quarters, rattling off dolphin facts as they sailed onward, dreaming of turning gears as the ship gently rocked him to sleep--and so he just decides to throw the whole thing out!

he can’t ignore his lifetime of education, though, so he continues to pursue it. with the remainder of money his mother left behind, he enrolls himself in a boarding school of science and technology, with plans to continue study in Only engineering. no more nautical Anything on his roster.

eventually, when he is old enough and graduates high school, he roams around...trying to figure out what to do. he doesn’t have enough money for college, so he can’t continue his scholarly efforts yet. he works around, job-to-job, city-to-city, and just notices how...delayed everything feels. like society is suffering under this slow pace towards innovation. 

and that’s when he decides his next course of action. if he were to discover the root of some problem and engineer a solution, he would be famous! he would gain notoriety and praise and--and all the things his mother had as a captain. but he would have it on his own, separate from his mother, and separate from his past. 

he figures out his next course of action: attend a school that will give his prestigious enough marks to be accepted onto a research team, find a problem, solve it, help the world, maybe earn a little bit of that credit and respect that would make him feel like he was doing his mother proud. 

the thing i want to emphasize here is that argo’s take on helping the world comes from that morality that canon fitzroy has. canon fitzroy wanted to be a knight because he wanted to fairly and justly instill ideas of “good” and “bad” onto the world. roleswap argo has a similar moral sense, but instead of establishing rules he wants to fix the “bad” and make it “good” in a technological/scientific sense.

the only school argo can think of that can get him that kind of notoriety is wiggenstaff’s. getting onto the HOG board would mean he’d have access to countless resources and be respected by a large audience, which would give him the opportunity to make change happen. even if he’s only a sidekick On Paper, what matters is that the diploma would give him the ability to Apply to the HOG. so he drafts a carefully worded letter for a scholarship and achieves a full-ride!!! epic 

like fitzroy’s magic, i’m going to break down argo’s relation to the unbroken chain after i get through backstory stuff. but trust me, I’ve Thought Of It

argo sort of blends into the background at wiggenstaff’s. or, he would, if his roommates/friends weren’t so Fucking Out There. fitzroy is enough to make him always be visible, but even the firbolg’s massive frame means eyes are always on him. which makes him nervous!! he doesn’t like the attention (as opposed to his canonical self, who revels in it for the self-esteem fuel) his insecurities manifest more in what he’s Doing rather than what he Is, mostly because his identity is barricaded by a wall of trauma repression

he’s still plenty funny and witty, just quieter. also he’s a lot Meaner than canon argo, at least to me. because if you irritate him he Will just completely shut you down with words. motherfucker doesn’t bark but he will most DEFINITELY bite

that’s their backstories, for the most part! in terms of how they interact together:

as established, they meet prior to wiggenstaff’s on a tinder date (during the grace period of argo working odd jobs and fitzroy about to be granted immense fucking power) and end up casually dating during the course of their wiggenstaff education. argo is a nervous goober and fitzroy just likes making him blush. it’s very cute.

fitzroy is still less inclined for the romantic than argo, who remains a steadfast absolute romantic internally. fitzroy still holds a lot of the self-doubt and distrust that canon fitzroy has, only it manifests in him not taking anything seriously! which means when he catches Feelings feelings he basically freaks out 

argo still falls in love really quickly, only now he’s more conflicted about it because being in love means trusting and trust means communication and communication means Oops Years Of Trauma Are Being Unloaded Uh Oh! 

now i’m going to touch on the big points that i find really interesting: fitzroy’s magic and argo’s relation to the unbroken chain

fitzroy’s magic:

chaos is not the being that grants him magic. it’s order! 

my take on what this means for what deity is on what plane of reality is that chaos is more Needed so they are the one that is physically On Nua, while Order remains in dreamscapes because they are already a constant amongst the tangible world. yes i know this directly contradicts the reasoning for why theyre Supposed to be where in canon, leave me alone i’m having fun. 

my reasoning for this switch is because chaos stands to be a contradiction to everything canon fitzroy has going on. he has a very strict, nailed-down understanding of himself and the world. everything he thinks is in black and white, bold statements, no questions, he follows rules and obeys the law. untiiiiil chaos gives him magic and shocks him out of that complacency. they lean into his inner impulses and that rage he’s kept locked deep inside. they allow for magic to Explode out of him, rather in calculated bursts or with intent. 

which is why order is more fitting for roleswap fitzroy!! because fitzroy, in this world, has less of a concrete grasp of himself and the world. he purposely lets himself be nebulous and goes with the flow. thinking of the future in real terms is not something fitzroy Does, he has no plans and that’s Fine. order seeks to give fitzroy a backbone, to put it simply. 

his magic doesn’t go impulsively out of him. it is calculated--it comes with thoughts and intentions. the reason it surprises fitzroy when the table blows up is because he didn’t think his thoughts or wants would amount into that, but that’s what order is trying to show him. that his intentions matter. that he matters and he has to Think and Focus and Be Here.

i’m still not sure if his power would manifest as lightning??? because the imagery for the lightning works perfectly for canon fitzroy because of the random power of lightning strikes. but for roleswap fitzroy it’s more like...thunder. like Purpose. thunder happens because of a reaction--it comes with intent. if differing air temperatures collide, it creates thunder. that combination is purpose + intent equating in magic. 

i think that part needs word bc like. how would one quantify thunder?? i think fire might also work really well because the idea of a controlled fire. like things have to Happen in order for fire to start, it can’t just appear like lightning can. 

order’s manipulation relies more heavily on the concept of boosting him up as a savior/hero, rather than boosting his ego and desire for power. fitzroy Has no desires in roleswap world--he’s just there. but when he gets put on the hero track, now he’s suddenly been given purpose. and order uses that to be like “wow, look at all these people who rely on you! look how important you are! don’t you want to use this magic for good?? to do good?? start a war with a demon come on pussy :-)”

OH YEAH also he becomes a hero in this universe (like in terms of tracks) because of the fact that it directly contradicts how he views himself. for canon fitzroy, it was showing him how much more he is capable of without the restrictions of morals (i.e, king fitzroy). but roleswap fitzroy doesn’t Have an image he wants to bolster! he doesn’t think he needs it and, frankly, he doesn’t care for it. the hero tracks carries with it all these stereotypes and expectations that now directly contradict his personality--thus showing him he is capable of more.

okay now for argo’s business jesus christ this post is so long and im NOT EVEN DONE WITH ALL THE POINTS I WANTED TO MENTION

argo’s relation to the unbroken chain:

so since roleswap argo has less of an association with his past (and, by extension, the memory of his mother), he is less inclined to join the mysterious cult that his mother was a part of. 

moreover, he doesn’t necessarily believe the shit he’s told??? he’s way more skeptical of jackal than canon argo is--immediately questioning why and how jackal knew his mother, and constantly trying to poke holes through his narrative.

generally speaking, if you try to talk to roleswap argo about his mother or his past, he Shuts Down. like completely. and that usually results in him snapping at you or just clamming up completely. mostly he just gets really snippy and angry because Hey Shut Up Dickhead I Don’t Want To Talk About It

a part of me still isn’t sure whether or not argo would take the unbroken chain up on their offer. but i also know that, plot wise and character arc wise, it is a necessary part of argo’s story. so i think, at most, he agrees but is extremely hesitant and might even let fitzroy on immediately once he’s given the task of digging into fitzroy’s life

also, they’re boyfriends in this universe, so how could he Really keep it a secret for that long. come on jackal, you idiot, you know they’re kissing. 

i think he’d Eventually warm up to jackal as a sort of father figure, but only after many nights of conversation and dancing around the subject of shebrie.

OH YEAH. this argo doesn’t know the commodore murdered his mother! important to note! he just assumes what he was told was true, that she sailed into dangerous territory and was ambushed. 

during the tribunal bit If That Even Happens In This World, i think fitzroy actually is the one who figures it out Before argo. and once argo does, well............fuck!

OKAY last little bit, just gonna talk about some random extra parts of the world that i’ve thought of already: 

in this universe, grey takes on higglemas’s identity instead of hieronymous’s!!! this is for good reason actually

okay so basically my thought was that, instead of whatever happened in canon yadda yadda dog time, hieronymous and grey are fighting and it’s a pretty evenly matched battle. there’s a cooldown moment where hiero thinks he’s safe but grey uses sneaky backhanded tactics to try and get the drop on him. 

only higgs sees it in time and saves his brother, taking the hit himself. he collapses, extremely wounded, and hiero rushes to his aid. he’s cradling his brother’s body, trying to keep him alive, when grey approaches to deliver the final blow. 

hiero is completely crushed and defeated and basically will let grey do anything to him by this point. the only thing he begs of is to let him live long enough to save his brother.

now, grey isn’t nice. let me make that clear. grey fucking SUCKS and the reason he agrees is because he wants a Real War with hiero and he can’t get that if hiero is basically like “if you let higgs die then you might as well kill me”.

so, grey agrees, and hiero ends up saving higgs by turning him into a cat. was supposed to be a temporary solution until he could find a better spell, but he wasn’t the magic guy in the duo. eventually, grey gets tired of waiting and decides to do some other shit. like turning the school the brothers have been running into a backalley place for demons!!

he takes the form of higglemas and leaves hieronymous locked in his office as basically a mascot. he’s like the queen and grey is the parliament--grey makes all the rules, but everyone assumes it’s hiero. faux-higgs is more on the ground, changing things and making the school a place more fitting for an eventual war. he builds up the concept of heroes and villains being Real, in the hopes he can sway some mortals to his side when he’s able to open a portal to hell. 

hiero still tries to stop this from happening, but his pride and his self-image is wounded by what happened. he feels guilty and puts the blame entirely on him, instead of doing the whole cowardice route like higgs did in canon. he gets people to help him eventually, via mind control and all tht jazz. 

also in this universe, buckminster is the one who gets birdified instead of leon!! has to do with my leon/buckminster and higgs/hiero narrative parallels that i’ve thought of for far too long.

firbolg is exactly the same in this universe. it is hard to swap three people and i didn’t want to think about him. 

fitzroy doesn’t pick a grab. i think he’d rather a lizard, like a bearded dragon. he names him something stupid. like scaly. or kyle. 

uhhh yeah!!! i think that’s....everything i’ve thought of so far!! lemme know if you wanna hear my takes on any other elements in the roleswap world!!!!

[stclla]

hello loves! my name is bri and i’m so excited to get the chance to write with all of your beautiful muses ♡ i just turned 24 (ew), my pronouns are she/her, and my timezone is est (luckily i live about an hour outside of nyc, and plan to move there permanently in 2021 yay !!!) 

tbh it’s been at least a year since my last rp group and i’m a little rusty, so pls feel free to share your tips and lmk how i’m doing :) my writing style is pretty flexible and i match length, pov, etc. and now !! a little bit of info about my beautiful chaotic bby stella:

ABOUT.

estelle “stella” celestine evans was spotted in the fashion district adorning gucci ankle boots , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to heat waves by glass animals . you may know them as @stella or as that sydney sweeney lookalike . their twenty-second birthday just passed . while living in the upper east side , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be reckless but on the other hand warmhearted . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines .

BASIC INFO.

Full Name: Estelle Celestine Evans

Nickname(s): Stella

Age: 22

Date of Birth: August 4, 1998

Sun Sign: Leo

Moon Sign: Cancer

Rising Sign: Scorpio

Hometown: Beverly Hills, CA

Current Location: Upper East Side, NY

Gender: Cis female

Pronouns: She/her

Orientation: Pansexual

Political Affiliation: Liberal

Occupation: Supermodel, socialite, influencer

Career Highlights: Victoria’s Secret Angel, high fashion runways, print & editorial work, music video appearances, photography, art direction

Goals/Passions: Photography, art direction, fashion design, makeup, social media

Career Claim: Gigi Hadid

BIOGRAPHY.

When your mom’s a legendary supermodel and your dad is a smooth talking Hollywood talent agent, it’s safe to say that you were probably born with a silver spoon in your mouth. But don’t you dare say that shit to Stella Evans. Although she definitely enjoyed the finer things in life growing up and was practically gifted a spot in wealthy elite by her parents, Stella likes to believe that she did it all herself. And underneath it all - the glitz and the glam and the money and the flashing lights - maybe she actually did.

While this blonde haired, blue eyed beauty might be the spitting image of her mother with a few (okay, a lot) more extra curves, Stella tries to distance herself from her family heritage as much as possible. It started in kindergarten when she renamed herself. After all, being named after the notorious Estelle Evans doesn’t make you a lot of friends when you’re five. It makes you the subject of ridicule from your peers, and makes your teachers treat you as if you were the one posing topless in Italian Vogue. And when your mother made you model for a big Baby Guess modeling campaign at the age of 2, kids tended to talk. So she became Stella. Just Stella.

From then on, she did everything she could to separate herself from her parents. If her parents said to stay in, she went out. If they told her to get good grades, she failed her classes in retaliation. Their attention was all consuming, especially her mother’s. After the once popular cover girl had retired, she turned all of her attention to her daughter. Stella’s modeling work had been paused at the suggestion of her talent agent father, Arthur Evans. He wanted her to focus on school and get an education so she could take over the talent agency one day. But when Estelle and Arthur divorced when Stella was 10 years old, all bets were off.

Her mother hopped from loveless marriage to loveless marriage, dragging Stella along for the ride. Her father moved to the Upper East Side, vowing to see her at Christmas each year, while Stella jetted around the world against her will. 6th and 7th grade in Sweden, 8th grade in London, 9th and 10th grade in Paris. It was a long and lonely adolescence, but Stella filled it with booze, bars, and boys and girls to keep her company. Partying was her only escape. And she was damn good at escaping.

She had her first real relationship when she was 16. He was an older French financier who was content to spoil her rotten and show her a good time. Perhaps too good a time. Stella was introduced to the things that would become her vices - namely, drugs and alcohol. Her mother proved to be overbearing but oblivious. She would do things like criticize her daughter’s makeup, clothing, and body, but be completely unaware that Stella was doing things like snorting coke to get thinner. She’d call her trashy for going out to clubs, then look the other way when Stella would wear a short mini skirt when leaving for “study sessions” at the library. With Stella’s clever wit and electric charisma, it really was too easy. The drugs combined with the alcohol made her feel better because she didn’t really feel anything at all. Plus, if her parents hated partying, then Stella would learn to love it.

Shit hit the fan when Stella was arrested in France. Something about being an accomplice to international drug smuggling and being under the influence of a controlled substance - whatever. 16 year old Stella got off with a slap on the wrist due to her connections, promising to move back to New York with her dad until she was 18 and legal. The Upper East Side was her new home, and weirdly enough, she actually kind of liked it. It was easier to start over in New York, where no one cared about her washed up mother. But they did care about money, wealth, and excess, which Stella was more than an expert in, whether she liked it or not. This made her presence in the New York social scene almost magnetic. People would flock to her, drawn in by her ethereal beauty, effortless charm, and “fuck it all” party girl attitude.

Attention was a dangerous drug for a girl like Stella, who had spent her whole life freeing herself from her mother’s tarnished legacy. And when she had finally done it, had finally succeeded in making people call her “Stella Evans” instead of “Baby Estelle”, it made her wild with reckless abandon. All her new friends and lovers wanted to buy her shots and make her feel good any way she wanted, and it was only polite for Stella to let them do it.

The next few years were filled with exclusive clubs, raucous spring breaks, glamorous yacht parties, champagne kisses with boys and girls, social media notoriety, and juicy headlines that cemented her status as an it-girl. Her modeling career resumed with a promise to her father that she would go to college at the same time. Armed with a golden reputation, endless connections, and natural charisma and talent, Stella began to walk all the major runways and was in talks to appear in Sports Illustrated and Victoria’s Secret. Unlike her mother, she proved that she had both high fashion attitude and sex appeal. Stella was unstoppable.

Until she wasn’t. After a night of drinking and an ill-timed bet that she could parallel park her date’s Range Rover (despite the fact that Stella didn’t have a license to speak of), the police charged her with a DUI. This time, she didn’t get off so easy. Her father pulled as many strings as possible to keep her image clean in the press, but word got out anyway. Fucking instagram.

Faced with the threat of losing her big modeling campaigns, Stella agreed to clean up her image. Think rehab, charity work, inspirational interviews. The whole shebang. And it worked - kind of. It’s hard to navigate a world filled with temptation, but Stella doesn’t know how to survive without the glitz and glamour of the wealthy world. She dropped out of college against her dad’s wishes, officially surrendering herself to the New York social scene. Rich girls have more fun, anyway. But sometimes she hates it and wants to be “normal”. Even so, she knows that she never will be and embraces the beautiful chaos that her life of excess brings to her.

As far as rich kids go, Stella is almost down-to-earth. Kind of. She likes to think that she is, but she’s also the kind of girl who would never be caught dead on the subway. Or a taxi. Black cars and private jets only, please. Underneath it all, Stella wants (and frankly, needs) real connections in her life. People who genuinely care about her and have her best interests at heart are extremely rare, so when Stella lets someone get close to her, they’re with her for life. Her reckless, carefree attitude can definitely get her into trouble, so she can be a handful.

But one of her shining traits is that she doesn’t judge, at least not as openly and viciously as her peers. Stella’s life of wealth and status is definitely ingrained in her, but she is also openminded and accepting. Her friends don’t need to be old money. They just need to be real. You can catch her being the talk of the town in her native Upper East Side, but also vibing with the up and comers in Tribeca. Below the layers of superficiality and obsession with the finer things in life, this supermodel has a heart of gold. But don’t fuck with her. Stella is dangerous and defiant when she wants to be, and nothing can get in the way of her getting what she wants. Even if what she wants could destroy her one day.

*** her bio is still a wip and i’m working on some inspo for wanted connections, but definitely lmk if you have any questions or think stella would be a good fit for connections with your muses ! 

[firebatvillain]

Dan

I had a friend, who I will call Dan. This is the story of how Dan became a far-righter, a conspiracy theorist, and worse. In the end, he got into an epistemic blind loop, unable to process anything that didn’t already agree with his beliefs. He was mired in his own set of information sources, and new, toxic communities. He gradually became completely radicalized, alienated from our friend group despite years spent trying to help him. We had to cut ties when his ranting and hate got too much.

Childhood

Dan and I were part of the same circle of friends in middle school. I was a latecomer to this friend group, as I went to a different elementary school from them-- they were all friends since age 8 or so, whereas I joined the friend circle around age 11. In middle school, we were just a collection of about a dozen nerdy kids would hang out and play Magic: the Gathering, or talk about girls, or discuss science and math. By high school, we were drifting apart a bit. Some of us got involved in the robotics club, some went into band, others joined sports, and we no longer shared the same classes as often. I made friends with some other people, and so on. We would still hang out on weekends and during summer breaks.

After high school, we all went our different ways. Max dropped out of high school but was whip-smart, and made his way doing odd jobs and working in electronics installations for nearby small businesses. Matt went to a fancy Midwestern college and became a sound technician. Adam went to the local community college then struggled through a 4-year university, and is now a manager at a big company you’ve probably heard of. Ben dropped out of college and did retail jobs, but has spent the last few years going to night school to learn how to code, and just finished his degree. Pete went to the University of California, where he didn’t make friends, but after 4 years of loneliness he got his degree and he now works as designer in our hometown. Dave went to a liberal arts college in the Midwest and now does consulting (or did before the pandemic, at least). John finished his 4+1 years at a Cal State Uni, got a teaching credential, and became a teacher at our hometown high school. Patrick went to a big UC, but when he knocked up his girlfriend, he had to change his life trajectory and now works as a designer at a marketing firm. I went to a small liberal arts college which was a great experience but taught me none of the job skills I used as a coder after college: it took a year of community college afterwards for me to learn the skills I needed.

We all had hiccups, but we were all of us lucky. Each of us came from a background of at least some means, with parents who could afford to send us to some kind of college if we wanted. Even Max benefited from this, because his electronics technician skills were learned in his dad’s garage on kits his dad brought home from working as an electrical engineer. Those of us who dropped out of high school or college, or didn’t learn much there, were still blessed by the connections of our parents and our high school peers, and though we’ve struggled and stumbled along the way, we managed to make a comfortable life for ourselves. In this era, it’s actually remarkable.

Dan, though, didn’t have the advantages we did. He went to the same excellent middle school and high school as we did, but his family was in a precarious financial situation, struggling to get by. His father was out of the picture, and his mother didn’t make enough money to support his older brother and him. I’m still not sure how Dan’s family could afford to live in our school district. In retrospect, he had a very bad family life, but as kids, we basically didn’t notice this: nothing we did was expensive, and Dan was just another friend. For various reasons, he never felt comfortable bringing this up when we were kids.

Dan converted to Christianity in high school just to impress a girl, but it stuck, and for a time his church activities gave him some stability. He dropped out of high school, but he wasn’t the only one of us to do so. He went on to community college, and seemed to be doing okay for a while, though we were all out of touch for a few years around then. It was a few years later when most of us were done with college and moved back to our hometown that we got more seriously in touch with him, and realized he was in a bad place.

After College

By this point, Dan was no longer doing anything in life, no longer in any social circles, and very depressed. We’d known the guy since middle school (or since 2nd grade for some of us) and he’d always had a wry sense of humor, but now it was all bitter with no humor: he felt that he had no future any more. He had given up on community college, hadn’t found a job, and felt he couldn’t do anything in life. Unlike Ben or Max, he didn’t have hobbies or interests, either: he didn’t write or draw or tinker. His days were spent completely empty, and he was struggling. There was nothing for him to cling to in these tough times. His executive dysfunction issues were overwhelming and he often couldn’t get out of bed to even brush his teeth or shower. Things got worse when his family was forced, due to poverty, to move away from our hometown, out into the boonies far away from his social support network and everything else he had in his life.

It was around this time that we made a Slack server (no Discord in those days!) and invited him in, so we could all chat together and have a nice time. This Slack server (and later a Discord server when we migrated there) was our haven. We could keep in touch with each other, even if we scattered to different towns. We could help each other out, be each other’s support, and just talk about life and socialize when lonely. For a time, it seemed to help Dan.

Dan was going to a dark place even then, alone and without any hopes for a future, uprooted from the social support of a childhood spent in in our hometown. He was without education, without work, without friends, without community, without... motion, I guess. And this chatroom was something that mattered, that helped.

Dan: being able to chat with y’all has helped my mood 50000 percent Dan: thanks fam Dan: I've been having like, chronic panic attacks

Even with our support, though, Dan was alone, and vulnerable. He fell down a deep hole of depression, then began to worship being down that hole. And he turned to more conspiracy theories that he found compelling: that said that all of the bad things in his life, all of it was explainable, all of it was not his fault, that there were greater, powerful factors at play holding him down. They posited a system that pervades the world, that created the emptiness and depression and loneliness he felt, that justified it all. They told him to take that feeling and to exalt it, to channel it into hatred of the Other. These alt-right conspiracies told him that all his problems were the fault of Jewish people, feminists, and so on, and if only they could be stopped, he would be okay.

Beyond just that, his beliefs were absolutely insane, further even than what you’d think when I tell you he became an antisemitic conspiracy theorist. He got into flat earthism, belief in evil cults practicing occult daemon magic, and belief in the idea that some ethnic groups weren’t human or were ethereal ghosts who could pose as humans. It got to the point where it was hard to even understand what he was talking about, he was so far beyond reasonable beliefs about the world.

The End

He would lash out at us with these beliefs, no matter how friendly we were or how much we tried to draw him back to normalcy. Our interactions got worse and worse, until the only support he felt he had was from his fellow far right conspiracy people, and we were his enemies, in his mind. From then on, it was only a matter of time until we gave up.

We did try, as he slipped into more radical, right-wing conspiratorial beliefs, to nudge him back in the right direction. We pointed out the factual flaws in his arguments. We talked about the validity of information sources he used, we argued with him on whether his conclusions followed premises. We made appeals to him as old friends. I know it was the right decision to try, but we all did what we could and it wasn’t enough.

I had thought we were making progress, but one day, after an egregious round of ranting from Dan that included calling Ben, who is Jewish, a racial slur, there was no unsaying what Dan had said. I thought that in the end, things might work out, that our bonds of friendship spanning decades would be enough to save our friend from this descent to an awful place. I thought we might pull him back from these spirals of bad emotion, worldview, and lifestyle, that fed into each other, viciously. In the end, we had to look out for ourselves rather than engage in futile effort, even an effort to save a friend.

The toxicity and hatred was too much, and the last holdout among us finally relented. We had failed.

We banned Dan from our chat server. Since our only contact with Dan was on the web since he moved away a few years back, that was it. It was over.

We also had to block him on Facebook, Twitter, and so on, because he began yelling at us there.

Things were noticeably better with him gone. Our server flourished, we became more active and happier. We supported each other through easy times and tough times, and have been there for each other throughout the pandemic. We were there for each other without Dan to cast a dark shadow over us all.

Today

I haven't spoken to Dan in a few years now, and haven't seen him for a decade.

I don’t even know how I feel about him any more. By the end, all he was able to do was lash out and hurt people, because he believed that his state of racist, crazed depression was the only true way to be, and we were his enemies for not sharing his beliefs or his race.

No amount of our internet chatting could save him from his life situation and the choices he made. He was in a bad spot to begin with: dropped out of college, living with abusive family, out in the boonies away from his hometown, he had health issues, his family was poverty-stricken by this point, and we could no longer see him in person, because he had moved so far away. We couldn't change that. And he wanted an ideology that justified that and venerated him as a clear-eyed visionary who could see the truth, valued for his race and for his belief in the conspiracy. And we couldn’t change that, either.

I hope that things have changed for him in the last few years. I hope he found a healthy way to cope with his depression, and he found his way out of the edifice of conspiratorial beliefs and right-wing ideology he built to justify it to himself. I hope he found a way away from his alt-right beliefs, and stable life where he feels safe.

I don’t think this has happened, though: I think he’s probably still alone, and angry, and far-right.

Catch you on the flip side, Dan.

[stillness-in-green]

MLAWeek Coda: The Lore Post

Sorry this is a few days late!  To the surprise of absolutely no one who has read some of my longer meta posts, I just don’t know how to shut the F up.  (Spoilers: this post is only a few hundred words away from being as long as everything else I wrote for the week put together.)  

Anyway, hit the jump for, in order:

A quick breakdown of the Liberation Army’s general structure.

A list of members, broken down by broad generation, including the ones we have gotten explicitly IDed in canon, the ones I based on figures we see in canon, and the ones I completely made up.

The basic tenets of the MLA and some discussion about their views on quirk supremacy. (feat. fandom salt)

An overview of the way the Advent shook up the political landscape in Japan and the Hearts & Minds Party’s place in that landscape.  Pretty much the same material Trumpet’s victory speech from Day 4 covers, but modestly more in-depth, removed from the need to play well to a crowd, and with some added explanation about the structure of the Diet for readers who are less familiar with it than Trumpet’s audience would be.

A timeline (with only moderately arbitrary dates!) covering the birth of the glowing baby up to the first year of the manga.  Mostly concerned with detailing the events the MLA would care about, but with a few other points of reference to contextualize things for the rest of us.

Bonus Fun Facts: discussion of the considerations that went into the timeline, a look at All For One’s actions re: the MLA, and some miscellaneous blurbs on terminology, worldbuilding and characterization.

A smattering of asides in the form of footnotes.

Note that while this material is based in and accurate to canon as much as I could remember at the time that I was doing my notes on my fills for the week, there’s a lot in here that is based entirely on supposition, interpretation and, at times, just plain-old guessing.  

Thanks to @codenamesazanka and @robotlesbianjavert for their assistance in naming, brainstorming, and just generally putting up with me while the Liberation Army was completely devouring my attention.

@red-the-omnic Somewhat belatedly, here’s that list of MLA members you asked for back during the middle of the week.  Sorry to make you wait so long! 

Enjoy!  

———–      ———–      ———–      ———–

ORGANIZATION

Grand Commander: Destro and Destro’s line of descendants.

The First Families: Those who fought at Destro’s side and escaped to continue the fight, and their descendants.  Veritably all high-ranked within the MLA, their tie to the original incarnation of the Army marks them as elites, whether or not their quirks would do so otherwise. The elders of the First Families do a certain amount of collective decision-making when and if the Grand Commander is unable to do so and has left orders otherwise.

Sanctum: “Sanctum” is a special position in the Army.  The name denotes the person who’s tasked with remembering the MLA’s history, practices and lore—the position is considered contiguous, so even when someone is new to the name, they’re still considered “the longest-serving member of the Liberation Army.”.  When they’re getting on in years, they select an appropriate protégé, to whom the name will pass upon their death/capture.  The name must always go to a member of the First Families (though in truth, they’re only on their third one, so it’s more of a pattern so far than a hard rule).

Commanders & Lieutenants: People in charge of major operations, liberated districts, etc. Frequently, though not always, members of the First Families.  Have discretion over their own assignments, but may not have much influence in the Army’s operations on the whole, depending on who they’re connected to otherwise.

Advisors: This title denotes those who are specifically tapped to give advice and aid to the MLA leadership.  Levels of authority vary depending on who they’re advising.  Advisors of lieutenants, if any, are a step above the rank and file, advisors of commanders are about on par with lieutenants, and advisors to the Grand Commander are considered commanders in their own right, regardless of any other rank they may hold.

Rank and File: Pretty much everyone else.

———–      

KNOWN MEMBERS [1]

The original MLA—

Destro: Yotsubashi Chikara.  Established the Meta Liberation Army in his mid-30s in response to the development of what he felt were overly restrictive laws on the usage of meta-abilities. Having observed evidence that meta-abilities grew stronger generationally, he was particularly concerned that no oppressive laws could be enforced by the generation that established them because the next generation would always be more powerful.  Thus, he believed that establishing the use of meta-abilities as a fundamental right was the only way for society to avoid indefinite intergenerational strife.  He was particularly incensed by the government co-opting the message that got his mother murdered to put a pretty, self-congratulatory sheen on laws that did the exact opposite of what she wished for.  Allegedly committed suicide after some months in prison.  The MLA is highly suspicious of this claim—they’re correct to be, but not for the reasons they think.              His quirk, which his entire line would inherit, turns a key emotion into enhanced strength and resilience in the form of a characteristic ink-blot marking.  While it would develop over time, the basic nature of the quirk remained the same. Chikara’s driving emotion was resolve.

Fathom: Destro’s lover, she dedicated a decade of her life after his capture to building up the survivors he’d left behind.  It’s said her son got his drive from Destro, but his anger from Fathom.  Had a large hand in raising her son to be the sort of man he was, particularly in her decision to commit what many considered to be suicide-by-hero when he was in his teens.  A large part of that choice was wrapped up in her never-fully-assuaged grief over Destro’s loss (and, she believed to the end, his murder), but there was also a cold calculation to it—her making a big show of it would lead the police to believe that her attack was the last gasp of the Liberation Army, ending their investigations into MLA activities.  It would also stoke the fires of her son’s rage, honing him into a stronger weapon against their enemies.  Her judgement in both cases proved broadly on-point, though her death did serve to make her son more cautious than she might have hoped.              Meta-Ability: Antennae.  A pair of insectile feelers emerging from her forehead that give her a passel of sensory boosts, particularly in the taste and smell categories, and which also make her able to detect shifts in the air from quite some distance.)

Cascade: A man whose meta-ability lets him turn body parts into loosely controllable masses of water.  Can’t transform fully.  A quick-thinking type able to make hard calls.

Sweeper: A woman with a radio-scanning quirk.  Caught by police in the same fight as Destro.

Sanctum I: The first bearer of the codename.  Had a protective ability of some sort.

Sanctum II’s father: The same quirk as his daughter; see below.  Known for getting some eight people safely out of a police raid by carrying them all out at once despite not actually having superhuman strength of any kind.  (Probably tore several muscles in the process, but adrenaline is a hell of a thing.)

The Second Generation—

Destro’s son: Raised to deeply resent heroes and the government that put them in place, but he was also very cautious of them.  He was profoundly aware that his death would mean the end of the dream that his father had begun and his mother had cultivated, so he was very meticulous in spreading the MLA’s influence underground, rebuilding their numbers before he even began to consider starting to make attacks again.  Destro’s army had been a guerilla force; his son’s would be something much more dangerous.  His driving emotion was anger, and he had two children before being killed by a cerebral aneurysm at 43.  Was able to use his power to make his body larger.

Sanctum II: A woman with an unusual fondness for the traditional Japanese arts, particularly tea ceremony.  Meta-ability: Stride.  Teleport to any location she can directly see by taking a single step forward.   Can take whoever she can carry under her own power. (First Families lineage)

Anchor: An advisor to Destro’s son.  Prominent bull horns.  Meta-ability: Immobilize.  Similar to Lock Rock’s Lockdown quirk, except it only works on his own body.  Very good at wrestling holds (and holding his breath), he tends to fight with backup that can deliver finishing blows to opponents once he has them pinned down.  (First Families lineage)

The Third Generation—

Yotsubashi Kyouyuki: The elder child of Destro’s son.  Deemed an unsuitable Grand Commander for his driving emotion of joy.  Always presented a façade of being cheerful and upbeat, but the ever-present rhetoric that the MLA pushes about the ongoing suppression of quirks and the misery and injustice it leads to left Kyou always struggling with guilt.  In college, it finally got so bad that he resolved to run away, enlisting the help of a friend with a swap-based teleport quirk to get him out of a party undetected. His fate thereafter is a secret that’s been taken to the grave by the MLA members involved in it, but given the typical reactions of illegal underground cults to members wanting to leave, it’s unlikely that he’s living somewhere in happy anonymity.  (Name means Unyielding Happiness, following in his grandfather and nephew's patterns of having characters in their names meaning power/strength.)

Yotsubashi Yukie: The younger child of Destro’s son, and Rikiya’s mother.  With a driving emotion of sorrow, and having been steadily losing family her entire life, Yukie wrestled with depression for most of her life. The presumptive heir to the title of Re-Destro, she spent considerably more time in training than her older brother, but she never much had the temperament for it.  When her father died only a few scant years after Kyouyuki’s disappearance, she expressed her fears that she was incapable of being the leader the Army needed.  This led to her becoming a mother at a relatively young age, continuing the bloodline rather than picking up the banner.  For all her struggles with her grief, Yukie was very determined to at least be there for the son on whom the weight of leadership would fall.  The world of My Hero Academia is a dangerous one, however, particularly before All Might established himself as Japan’s pillar, and Yukie was a casualty of the chaos of a villain attack when Rikiya was ten.  (Name means Glittering Conqueror, ditto the note above about the family pattern for name kanji.)

Rampart: Guardian and general caretaker for Rikiya in his younger years.  Hand-picked for the role by Yukie, who had considered him a close friend since their school days.  Meta-Ability: An earth manipulation power akin to Pixie-Bob’s, though less powerful.  (First Families lineage)

Shinseigi: Trumpet’s uncle, unspecified code name.  Also in politics, though of a more local variety.  Meta-ability: His speaking voice makes listeners suggestible.  (The phonetic pronunciation of his name sounds like “New Justice,” but the kanji are “Sleeping Voice Technique.”)

The Fourth Generation—

Yotsubashi Rikiya: The current Re-Destro (42); CEO and President of Detnerat.  He took up the former title when he was only 6 years old. With the succession of losses that were his uncle, grandfather and mother, the MLA has been fairly careful with him, grooming him with care and rarely leaving him without some form of supervision, be it Rampart when he was young or Trumpet in college.  An extremely dutiful child grown into an urbane man whose good humor disguises a morose—and occasionally volatile—inner character.  Always under a lot of stress (his MRIs are clear so far, though, haha!), but there’s only so much effort dedicated to mitigating that, since stress is his key emotion.  The first in the family line to be able to separate his power from his own body, in the form of his Stress Bomb attack.

Trumpet: Hanabata Koku (44).  One of Rikiya’s advisors and party leader of the Hearts & Minds Party (see below); has known Rikiya since their preteen years.  The Hanabatas were a political family of old, but largely saw those fortunes crash and burn when they started manifesting quirks a few generations into the Advent.  They’ve been clawing their way back into politics ever since and were an early target for the MLA’s project to infiltrate and/or start their own political party.  It was decided very early on that Koku’s quirk and his family connections made him a good choice to groom for leadership of the HMP, so he and Rikiya bonded over their similar positions.  They would go on to attend the same university, during which time they became romantically involved.  In truth, Koku’s university was functionally chosen for him on the basis of which one Rikiya would be attending; the First Families were not about to lose another Yotsubashi to college life.  Koku is more aware of this particular fact than Rikiya.  Still a little wistful about their college days, his opinions regarding Re-Destro’s big starstruck crush on Shigaraki are borderline unprintable.

Sanctum III: Twice’s No. 1 advisor, the dude with the big imperial handlebar moustache and what looks an awful lot like a dress uniform for the Japanese navy.  A few years older than Trumpet.  (First Families lineage)

Curious: Kizuki Chitose (36).  RD advisor and Shoowaysha Publishing Executive Vice President.[2]  From a relatively small liberated district up near Sendai; the MLA connections plus her own profound ambition got her moving very quickly up the MLA chain of command. Daughter of a wlw couple; got her blue skin from her bio mom.  One younger sibling, a sister.  Masterminded the dinners we see the group having in Chapter 218, originally to make sure Rikiya was getting at least one well-apportioned meal a week and a chance to socialize with the closest thing he has to peers, but also because it proved to be an invaluable opportunity to swap information and rumors.

Skeptic: Chikazoku Tomoyasu (31).  RD advisor and Feel Good Inc. board member.  On the bottom end of the generation age-wise, a prodigy in every sense save his broadly terrible people skills.  Recognizes Rikiya’s stress tells because he shares several of them himself, and is also the only person of Rikiya’s generation with the confidence to verbally push him around a bit.  It’s regarded as borderline scandalous by their elders, but Rikiya himself finds it bracing, and anyway, Skeptic’s ability to organize a schedule for maximum efficiency is nothing less than miraculous.  Got Rikiya onto fidget toys.

Toryu:  Toryu is the family name of Galvanize (aka Taser Face aka Kaminari’s Dad).  Mr. Compress’s No. 1, the dude who strolls out onto the lawn after Cementoss rips the hotel a new one and immediately gets his smarm repackaged and returned to sender by Kaminari and Edgeshot.  Great for morale before that, though!  In Rikiya’s age group, his mother’s side of the family (from which he gets the electricity powers) has been in the Army for at least as far back as her school days. (The name comes from the characters for leaping/rising and current/flow.)

Slidin’ Go: Tokoname Tatsuyuki (37).  He’s Slidin’ Go!  Skeptic’s No. 2, possibly because Slidin’ Go strongly resembles the puppets Skeptic is so used to barking orders at and there’s comfort in familiarity.

Aozono: Family name for another of Rikiya’s childhood peers, nothing is known but that green skin runs in the family as far back as her father.  May or may not be related to Curious’s family.

The Fifth Generation—

Geten: Real name unknown.  Family status unknown.  Age unknown, but I’d peg him in the 18-23 area.  Seems to be allowed to attend the weekly dinners without contributing anything but his incredibly terrible table manners.  Can talk an impassioned game about the Liberation Army’s goals (though he pushes the quirk supremacy line a good deal harder than anyone else in the Army is shown to; it’s not even close), but it’s fairly clear that he’s more personally dedicated to Re-Destro than he is the MLA’s cause in and of itself.  I’ll be honest; I have no idea what Geten’s deal is. My tentative headcanon is that he’s an orphan—the English meaning of his name, Apocrypha, refers to sacred writings of uncertain authorship/authenticity—who’s in some kind of Batman-and-Robin guardian-and-ward situation with Re-Destro, but I didn’t wind up writing enough about him to come up with much beyond that.

Nimble: Spinner’s No. 1, the woman with the weird paper-strip-esque hair who doesn’t seem to be in possession of a nose or mouth.  (She absorbs air through her skin like a frog, which is why no one has ever seen her with that sweater covering both of her shoulders.)  Nimble is a friendly sort, though she regards her outgoing good cheer as being a simple matter of social networking.  Ambitious, but sensible about it.                Meta-ability: Sky Write.  Allows her to project letters and pictures into the air around her, giving her a way to communicate she would have otherwise lacked.  She can create words in air she can’t see, but it takes some concentration, and the closer the better.

Scarecrow: Spinner’s No. 2, 21 years old.  Born with amelia (see link in Day Two’s author’s notes) that disfigured his face and severed his arms in the womb.  His quirk-based forelegs—a pair of spider legs emerging from his shoulders—can do a certain amount of basic object manipulation, but it tends to wig people out, so they push him to use his prosthetics like he’s “supposed” to (see Stray Notes section for more on this).  He was viciously angry about it even as a kid, and his parents were frustrated, making them easy pickings for cult indoctrination.  A family friend recommended that they look into Detnerat, where it wasn’t long before Re-Destro himself took an interest in their situation (or at least in making a good impression on them).  Scarecrow joined the Army as quickly as he was allowed to—16.              Meta-ability: Webbing.  The bug legs can project silk like a webspinner (the insect on which he’s based), allowing him to do anything you might broadly understand Spider-Man to be able to do with his webbing, though he certainly lacks Spider-Man’s strength.

Red: Named in passing in the manga, he’s the laid-back dude with the fluffy hair who serves as Skeptic’s No. 1 post-merger.  Probably invaluable in helping Skeptic maintain what bare vestiges of chill he can muster.  (First Families lineage)

The Sixth Generation—

Every child currently under the age of 10 being raised in MLA households with a picture of Destro over the mantle.  It’s not a small number, representing a group that neither the fandom nor the Hero Commission seem to have even realized exist.

———–      

CORE TENETS & THE MATTER OF QUIRK SUPREMACY

Re-Destro is not (contrary to popular fandom belief) in favor of full-throated, might-makes-right, survival of the fittest Quirk Darwinism.[3]  Destro’s will was for people to be able to use their meta-abilities as they saw fit to the extent that that freedom did not interfere with the freedoms of others. He was against the regulation of meta-abilities, but he was not—to the best of our knowledge—against the regulation of crime.  His belief was that one murderer with a fire ability killing people did not justify barring everyone else with fire abilities from using those powers to fire clay, start campfires, engage in fire-themed performance art, use fire to char wood in artistic patterns for money, help park rangers set and direct controlled burns, coordinate explosions for the movie industry, light cigarettes in public, or any other of dozens of possible uses for a fire ability that don’t involve burning people alive.

The MLA do believe that meta-abilities have an impact on one’s personality, but they also believe that that’s okay; that it should be understood and accepted, not feared and repressed—Curious would not have wanted to turn Toga into a tragedy about the consequences of repression if she didn’t think that a spree of bloodletting murders was a tragedy.  Their belief as an organization is that people should be free to use their powers as they see fit in the same way that they would any other natural talent or cultivated skill.  They believe that people will, if free to do so, naturally gravitate to ways of improving their own lot in life via use of their meta-abilities.

Freedom from regulation and freedom from discrimination—these are the core tenets that the vast majority of the rank and file hold to.  A great many of them are laborers, blue collar types who just want to be able to better support themselves and their families.  Many others are those who suffered discrimination because of their quirks and want better for both themselves and their children.  Of course, the further back their connections go, the more likely they are to both be higher-ranked in the cult (with attendant greater resources) and to have grown up soaking in generations’ worth of resentment, groupthink, and radicalism.

Geten, a particularly virulent and single-minded MLA attack dog, has parsed the tenets to mean that people with strong, well-trained meta-abilities will naturally be able to use their powers to do more and raise their status in the MLA’s ideal society, and thus that those who can’t or don’t choose to will not be able to live lives that Geten personally thinks are worth living.  Likewise, Trumpet doesn’t fault Spinner only for his weak ability, but also for his anti-social tendencies.  Of course a politician who’s deeply invested in a narrative of people uniting to throw off their chains and better themselves would be disdainful of someone who locked himself in his bedroom for years and emerged only to violently lash out at society.  (Spinner’s right to call Trumpet a huge hypocrite on this, mind; terrorist cult members have no business lecturing other terrorists about the correct way to violently reform society.)

The MLA does have a problem with quirk supremacy, but it’s not quite the problem fandom thinks they do, and it’s certainly more nuanced than fandom thinks.[4]  Frankly, I could write a whole post dissecting this, but rather than analyzing the canon at length in a post intending to be about my fanon for a series of slice-of-life MLA fics, let me just lay out some issues I think the MLA have.  Note that these opinions may vary member to member, particularly as you work your way up the chain of command.

Many in the MLA believe that people with poor quirks are less capable of asserting their will and becoming whatever they want to be.  They are not, notably, alone in that that sentiment—we hear versions of it not only from villains like Trumpet and All for One, but from the paralleled parents of Midoriya Inko and Shimura Kotarou, the would-be hero Bakugou, and even the iconic hero paragon All Might.  While it’s not universal, My Hero Academia’s Japan is full of people who believe to some extent or another that people with weak or no quirks are inherently less capable of making their mark on the world.  The MLA is just more blatant about it than most.

The MLA are, as a group, not concerned about the fate of the quirkless.  My suspicion is that this is because they think quirklessness as a trait is on its way out—that the touted 20% of the world population that’s quirkless is hugely weighted towards the elderly, those who are from generations when quirklessness was more common.  Think about it: 20% is two out of every ten people.  Statistically speaking, that’s a huge portion!  You only have to look at Deku’s middle school classroom in Chapter 1—thirty kids, exactly one of whom is quirkless—to begin to suspect that there’s something a bit off with the 20% figure.

Further, the MLA follows Destro’s beliefs, and we know from Destro’s manifesto that he believed meta-abilities were growing stronger over time.  So to their mind, not only is quirklessness becoming a thing of the past, but so are weak quirks in general.  While their clear disdain for both is damning—and certainly discredits them as a group suited to decide how society should be structured!—please understand that, “We’re not very concerned with the rights of the quirkless because we think that there won’t be any such thing as quirkless people within a few more generations,” is not the same statement as, “We are A-OK with 20% of the world’s population being second-class citizens for the entire rest of human history,” and it is really not the same statement as, “People with no quirks, or bodies that can’t handle their quirks, need to be proactively removed from the gene pool and we are actively advocating for a systemic, organized culling.”

That said, their disdain, if blown out to society at large, would absolutely lead to discrimination and, undoubtedly, incidents of the same sort of violence that the MLA themselves were forged from.  That they haven’t thought or don’t care about this is one of many things that make them villains.

Further, there is an ugly strain within the MLA that still recognizes quirk marriages.  Because the MLA values freedom, they’re not as ubiquitous as you might think (at least if you think the MLA is a bunch of quirk supremacists with no other goals or values)—“freedom” does nominally include the freedom to marry who you want rather than let your own meta-ability trap you in a life you hate. However, it’s equally true that in a group that believes very strongly in the value of quirks, the power of quirks in the future, and the necessity of fighting a war to bring about that future, there will obviously be members who support the practice.  There are absolutely men and women who have been bullied and guilted by their families into loveless marriages for the sole purpose of producing children with powerful, desirable quirks.  How likely this is in any given location mostly depends on the commander’s opinion on it, though it’s a very rare one indeed who would go so far as discouraging it entirely.

———–      

THE HEARTS & MINDS PARTY

(Considerations on Japan’s political landscape.)

The current monolith of the Diet, the Liberal Democratic Party of Japan, managed to hold onto power for a full century after the Advent, but their grasp grew shakier and shakier over time.  Initial measures to bar meta-humans from voting proved increasingly unpopular as the percentage of the population with meta-abilities grew both larger and older.  People with easily-concealed powers gained office, sometimes being outed, sometimes not, but on the whole, decades of oppression and violence led to an ever-more-popular opinion that the LDP had mishandled the whole mess.  They lost their supermajority in the Diet when their longstanding alliance with the Komeito party splintered, regained it again for a few electoral cycles, lost it again when Komeito itself fractured, and so on, their once implacable numbers shrinking year by year.  Still, they managed to hold onto a coalition majority right up until Saneki Yuuichi was elected to the House of Representatives.

Saneki headed up a small party based almost entirely on the issue of meta-human basic rights.  Like many meta-humans of the period, he believed that the best way for meta-humans to attain those rights was to live like so-called “normal humans,” to show that meta-humans were just like everyone else. His party advanced the ideology that meta-humans should only use their powers to help others or better society, not to advance their own self-interest.  They pushed stringently for metas to be allowed equal recognition under the law as any Japanese citizen, but also supported measures such as requiring licenses for the use of meta-abilities and limiting those licenses to those actively engaged in assisting police.  Deeply tied to respectability politics, Saneki’s party contained virtually all emitters, a scant number of transformers, and no heteromorphs, who the party felt were an impediment to reaching their legislative goals, but whose particular needs could be brought back up at a later, more receptive time.

Saneki’s politics gained him many supporters, but also drove many into the arms of the Meta Liberation Army, who vocally loathed him and everything he stood for.  The confluence of public dissatisfaction with the spike in violence represented by the MLA, Saneki’s coalition gathering popular support among both metas and non-metas, and the rise of named, organized hate groups trying to roll back what few advances had been gained in meta-human rights finally spelled the end of the LDP’s majority.

The LDP falling apart prompted a scramble for power that would stretch on for nearly half a century. Old alliances whose only common ground had been opposing the LDP found themselves free to seek groups with more compatible goals.  Young single- or dual-issue parties leapt at the chance to address their issues with more fervor.  New parties sprung up across the country.  Not only meta-humans, but minority groups of all kinds saw new avenues to press for substantive positive changes that had been dead in the water under the LDP.  Voting numbers surged as they had not for decades.

The old, conservative elements of the Diet were not gone, of course—they remained a substantial powerhouse!—but no longer could they muster the undefeatable veto-proof numbers that they had once enjoyed.

Like everyone else, the remnants of the MLA saw opportunity in the new, ever-shifting status quo.  With the place of metas secured for the time being, there was no longer a need for metas to form coalitions in the Diet merely to get their basic needs addressed.  A single-issue party from its inception thirty years prior, Saneki Yuuichi’s party was fragmenting, unable to decide on a single direction now that their uniting issue had been resolved to their satisfaction.  In recognition of meta-humans reaching population parity, the MLA launched a project to begin seeding the ideals of Liberation at the highest levels yet—the Hearts & Minds Party.

Beginning as a local party in a prefecture in which the MLA had gained significant underground support, the HMP campaigned on a platform championing individual freedoms and a wide range of improvements to Japan’s battered and overworked social safety nets.  They made an effort to showcase diverse representation in their leadership and gave impassioned speeches promising to reach across party aisles in searching for nuanced solutions to the various difficulties facing the country.

It’s impossible to say exactly how large the Hearts & Minds Party is compared to the Meta Liberation Army, which is claimed by Re-Destro to have 116,000 action-ready warriors (the “warriors lying in wait, ready to rise to action” description presumably indicating that his count does not include uninducted children).

On the one hand, one can presume that everyone who’s a member of the MLA is voting for the HMP on every ticket they can, but not every member of the MLA—who induct combat-ready warriors as young as 16—is old enough to vote, and many probably live in districts or prefectures where the HMP has yet to establish a campaign-ready foothold. On the other hand, while the HMP certainly serves to funnel people towards the MLA, it doesn’t require membership—indeed, it’s far better for their goals for them not to do so.  Therefore, it’s also probable that the Hearts & Minds Party has many supporters who are not (yet) counted among the Liberation Army’s number.  Thus, for the purposes of ballparking estimates, I opted to simply suppose that the two areas lacking overlap (MLA members who can’t vote for the HMP and HMP supporters who aren’t members of the MLA) are relatively equal.

That established, we’re working with a party that has 116K voters/supporters/members.  The closest thing to that number that I could find numbers for is the Japanese Communist Party (JCP), which counted 300K members as of 2017.  Using their total membership compared to their representation in the Diet (as well as a willingness to viciously bastardize anything resembling reliable political math), I plugged in my estimate for the HMP’s membership and wound up with the Hearts & Minds Party holding four seats in the House of Representatives, five seats in the House of Councillors, and sixty-odd assembly members in various prefectural positions.

For some context to those numbers, the House of Representatives (more powerful, but more vulnerable to sudden electoral shifts) has 465 members, 233 of which are required for a majority, and 310 of which are required to override vetoes imposed by the House of Counsillors. The House of Counsillors (less powerful, but serving longer terms and unable to be dissolved for general elections like the House of Representatives can be) has 245 members, with 123 required for a majority.

As you can see, the HMP holding a handful of seats isn’t going to tilt the My Hero Academia world on its axis.  Still, it’s more seats than any number of real-life Japanese political parties hold, and right up until the one-two punch of Shigaraki taking over the MLA and Hawks outing Trumpet’s allegiances to the Hero Commission, the Hearts & Minds Party was well on-track to continue growing its power and influence.

———–      

TIMELINE

(For ease of calculation, most dates are rounded to the nearest five years.)

1980: A glowing baby is born in Qing Qing City, China, heralding the Advent of the Age of the Extraordinary.  For almost two decades, meta-abilities remain rare and poorly understood—incidents are widespread and show huge variance, so most people write them off as anomalies or hoaxes.  As the years go on, however, meta-abilities become more widespread, moving out of the realm of the odd headline that many people think is an elaborate hoax into an alarmed spotlight as it gradually becomes apparent that this is a thing that all humanity is undergoing.  Most major technological development pivots to trying to understand, undo, document or control this new phenomenon.

2030: The child who will become All for One is born.  By this time, society is breaking down into chaos. Across the globe, measures from outlawing all meta-ability use to internment are seen.  Eugenics laws are discussed or put in place.  Communities attempt to run out metas and, in response, groups of metas attempt to form their own communities.  Infanticide rates are rising alarmingly.

2060: Yotsubashi Chikara and Ujiko (original name unknown) are born.  Japan is in complete disarray, awash in mob violence, with organized groups of both metas and non-metas attacking victims indiscriminately.  Developing an ability can get you disowned.  Divisions among the meta minority are developing a noticeable strain of respectability politics rhetoric.

2065: AFO forces an ability on his younger brother, unintentionally creating One for All.  Chikara’s mother is murdered by an anti-meta mob for attempting to speak out in defense of the normalcy of her child’s ability.

2085-2090: Saneki Yuuichi becomes the first meta-human to attain a seat in the Diet. Despite nearly a century of violence, meta-humans are becoming a larger and larger percentage of the population, and the people of Japan are tired.  The prevailing sense is that it’s time to make peace; however, the peace that is being forged involves laws sharply restricting the use of meta-abilities for those who haven’t been formally licensed.  These restrictions see markedly mixed reactions from metas.  Chikara rallies the most vehement dissenters to create the Meta Liberation Army, calling himself Destro.              Disagreement over how to handle the MLA finally finishing the job of rattling the Diet free of the death-grip of the LDP.  Many years of fractious elections will follow as new coalitions form to try and seize majority power.

2095: Japan signs an international accord acknowledging the fundamental rights of meta-humans.  This gesture begins to splinter both internal support and public sympathy for the MLA.

2097: Destro is captured by police and their newly designated Quirk Unit.  Other surviving members of the MLA are hunted down or go into hiding.

2100: The term “Hero” is formally adopted, having been casually in use for some time.  A Hero is one who is licensed to use their power to fight quirk-based crime in accordance with local and federal laws, assisting the police when requested.  The Hero Commission is established as an agency with oversight in the licensing and regulation of Heros.              Destro dies in prison.  Though the matter is questioned, no proof of foul play is ever brought forward, and the death is ruled a suicide.

2110: Ujiko presents his paper on the Paranormal [5] Singularity Theory.  The paper suggests that the power of quirks is continuing to grow with each generation and will, in time, become more powerful than the human body can control.  His evidence is inconclusive, however, and his citation of some of Destro’s observations on the phenomenon becomes a particular sticking point.  In a country that is finally beginning to get its feet back under it, no one wants to see another widespread panic.  Ujiko is stripped of his position; having been living on campus at the time, he’s left functionally homeless and is approached by All for One not long after.

2120: The population of those with quirks and those without reaches parity in Japan. Seeing an opportunity, the MLA launches the Hearts & Minds Party as a local political party, intending to grow it over time.

(2125: Yagi Toshinori is born.)

2138: Yotsubashi Rikiya is born.

(2148: Debut of All Might.)

(2165: Shimura family tragedy.)

(2174: All Might “defeats” AFO.)

2175: Hanabata Koku is elected to the House of Representatives.  He’s not the youngest party leader in the Diet, but he’s close.

2180: The events of Deku’s freshman year at UA lead the MLA to turn their attention to the League of Villains.

———–      

STRAY FACTS

Why 1980/2180?—

It’s an even number for ease of calculation, triangulated between a few considerations.

Firstly, tasers are mentioned in the One for All dream, so the events of the dream (which themselves are happening far enough into the Advent that society’s had time to slide into all-out chaos) must post-date the invention of the taser, which was in 1993.

Secondly, Spider-Man’s silhouette is seen amongst the group of characters who represent the “fantasy” that became reality.  If we assume that those media properties existed in-universe (since the narration is delivered by Midoriya) and were assumed to be fantastical at the time, they must predate the Advent—Spider-Man is the newest of them and his first appearance was in 1962, his material being translated into Japanese by the 1970s.

Lastly, technological and societal development crashed to a halt with the Advent.  The world of My Hero Academia generally reflects a modern-ish Japan, so I wanted modern technology—and modern social reforms—to still feel modern to the characters.  Thus, the point at which society stopped developing needed to predate the Digital Revolution, which really began to hit its stride in the mid-80s.  Hence, 1980.

The opening period is, admittedly, fairly generous on my part, and does assume a certain amount of modern advances were probably underway, but then were lost, sidelined or rolled back as the chaos spread.  You could probably trim off twenty years by stepping up how quickly quirks begin to appear and spread, but the very beginning is the best window to do so.  I’d still peg the Advent at 1980 based on the calculations above (again, it has to fall somewhere between the mid-70s and 1993) but, for example, maybe All for One is from that first generation, and society only takes 30 years to reach the lowest point of its collapse instead of 80.

As to the 2180, the older characters introduce several requirements for the post-Advent timeline.  Ujiko was 50 at the time that society was beginning to stabilize, while AFO dates to its days of utmost chaos.  AFO also needs to be running on at least one anti-aging quirk prior to meeting Ujiko; if the only one he were running on was Ujiko’s own, then based on his appearance and the mechanics of Ujiko’s quirk, I’d peg AFO at merely 85, and he needs to be not only over 100, but far enough over 100 that he’s described that way rather than as “a century-old evil” or something to that effect.

Meanwhile, All Might can’t really be any younger than 50, and seven generations of OFA bearer predated him, even if they did all die relatively young.  Destro’s mother was killed in those early chaotic days, while Re-Destro (himself no spring chicken) is told as a child that the MLA has been in hiding for generations.  “Generations” implies at least two; I further suppose that Rikiya needs to be at least the original Chikara’s great-grandson for him to describe himself simply as Destro’s descendant, rather than use a more specific relationship term.  All of this points to a fairly lengthy stretch of time, much more than is glossed over by Midoriya’s series-opening narration.

AFO and the MLA—

I mention in the very first story of this series that the MLA’s contacts all go “mysteriously missing” after the capture of Destro.  While the police certainly did their own measure of work in tracking down the Liberation Army’s members and allies, there was another figure with a significant hand in the MLA’s downfall.

All for One, then in his early sixties, had watched the rise of the MLA in some interest.  On a personal level, he admired Yotsubashi’s charisma and resolve, and, of course, he wholly supported the free use of quirks (well, his own free use of quirks, anyway)!  On the other hand, All for One also sought to restore order to society, albeit order as he himself envisioned it.  While he was confident that there was no one who could stand up to him no matter whose ideals won out, Saneki Yuuichi’s way promised a more stable society, and bribable and/or blackmailable bureaucrats seemed easier to manipulate than ideal-driven zealots ready to give their lives for the cause.  Thus, AFO decided to help the police a bit behind the scenes, offering a few tip-offs and hints to guide their efforts to end the threat of the Liberation Army.

Of course, as long as Destro was alive, the cause of Liberation still had its focal point. And AFO was still a bit curious to meet this man, who’d inspired so very many loyal followers.  It was an easy thing to arrange.  An interesting man, and an interesting quirk.

Destro did commit suicide in prison.  A man who had always embraced his meta-ability for motivation, and whose ability transformed that motivation into power in turn, AFO stripped him of in the same moment. Isolation from other contact, separation from his lover, his friends and allies, and his cause, a gap in his psyche like no pain he’d ever experienced--all of these piled up on one another into a fatal despair.  After AFO’s visit, there was no need for anyone to arrange a convenient death for Destro.

(And if in later years, the monstrous Noumu, who are driven entirely by pre-programmed, single-minded resolve, are flint-skinned from head-to-toe, well—who would ever even think to connect those dots?)

The Mother of Quirks—

An interesting thing I observed from Re-Destro’s confrontation with Clone!Shigaraki is that, based on their exchange, it doesn’t seem to be common knowledge that the Mother of Quirks is the mother of the Meta Liberation Army’s leader?  Re-Destro’s apology for assuming Shigaraki wouldn’t recognize the story suggests that it’s a matter of fairly basic historical education, but he then goes on to explain her connection to Destro at some length—if that connection were taught at the same time her story was, surely he’d see no need to do this? Clone-a-raki’s response backs this up—unlike the general existence of the Mother of Quirks, which was such basic knowledge that he was insulted that Re-Destro thought he wouldn’t know about it, her connection to Destro was unknown to him.

Re-Destro describes the connection as “an inconvenient truth.”  This, in turn, suggests that the connection has been actively obscured.  The MLA’s place in history is taught; the originator of the term “quirk” is taught, but the two are not connected to each other. Kids in school aren’t taught that the very child whose mother was murdered for her words hated what his country was using those words, that message, to do.  It’s naked appropriation that continues to this day, and it’s no wonder that the MLA is furious about it.

The Quirk Unit—

An early term for the group that would, in relatively short order after their formation, officially be dubbed Heroes.  Composed of both meta-humans already on the police force and vigilantes willing to remit themselves to legal oversight, they fought quirk-based crime in many forms, from the common mugger to the terrorists of the MLA, and even former allies in vigilantism.  Well-regarded by history thanks to their efforts in reining in crime and disorder, but quite a controversial group in their early years.

MLA Age of Induction—

Being raised in the MLA means being raised with the goal of eventually being assigned a codename and tasked with supporting the Great Cause in whatever fashion your superiors think you best suited.  The minimum age for this is 16, though 18, being the age at which students graduate from high school, is more common.  At no point is there really a safe way to leave once you’re involved; they are, after all, a secret army.  There’s no aging out of the MLA—it’s a lifetime tour—but disability, injury or general decrepitude can get you assigned to work that generally won’t expect you to see open combat.  The Army is composed of a great many lifetime-of-service families, after all, which means they need teachers and caretakers; another option is dedicated work for the Hearts & Minds Party, who always have room for community organizers.

Liberated Districts—

Settlements that are at least 85% MLA-inducted.  At their largest, they’re small towns; rural villages are far more common.  Without exception, they’re isolated or out of the way.  Tend to have unusually good access to city services compared to similarly-sized settlements.  Deika was one of the largest districts the Army had, chosen for the Revival Celebration due to its combination of a sizable population and a particularly closed-off location.  The MLA knew they’d need many warriors to fight the League of Villains, but they also needed a site that was not merely remote, but that had controllable points of access.

It can take well over a decade to hit the 85% saturation mark in even small villages; Deika and the MLA’s handful of other full-fledged towns are the work of generations.  They begin by moving people into an area and setting up gatherings on some useful pretext or another, enthusiastically welcoming newcomers and very, very gradually indoctrinating people further into the ideology.  Financial support, an accepting environment for difficult quirks or those with patchy legal histories, the odd homeless shelter or food kitchen, a robust presence in the foster care network—the MLA is very, very good at making themselves a warm, sincere, reliable presence in peoples’ lives, a group that encourages everyone under their banner to be their best selves. They think everyone deserves that kind of support!

They are also willing to shed quite a lot of blood to make sure that everyone can get it.

On the Intersection of Disability and Quirk Suppression—

There are a few factors contributing to why Scarecrow can’t use his quirk to do things others would.  First, his quirk is the kind of off-putting that gets Gang Orca ranked third-most villainous-looking hero and leads Shoji to wear a mask because his face disturbs people.  So Scarecrow’s quirk is already the kind of visible that makes people look at him askance.  Compounding this, his prosthetics are obvious, visible to any old person, and people have a very ugly tendency towards bootstrap, “you can do it if you try” mentalities around people with disabilities.  These two factors mean that people who are disturbed by his creepy articulate bug legs would much prefer that he use his significantly less-creepy prosthetics, to the degree that they’re willing to suggest that he’s being lazy if he doesn’t.  They cite the quirk-use laws as a deflection tactic, but Scarecrow—whose pattern recognition functions just fine, thanks—is keenly aware of the underlying mindset.

Nimble is in much the same boat—she literally can’t talk without falling back on a visual representation of some kind (sign-language, a text-to-speech reader, etc), and why on earth shouldn’t she be able to use the fastest and most convenient one without people getting up her ass about it?

None of this is the kind of thing that would likely get either of them arrested (though Scarecrow’s creepy enough that the odds are higher for him, “villain quirk” bias being what it is), but the laws-as-written, nonetheless, are discriminatory, and that makes people justly angry.  Angry people are easier to radicalize, and the Liberation Army has been working that angle since their very inception.

Re-Destro and Trumpet’s College Days—

RD’s an Engineering major with a focus in Manufacturing; Trumpet’s in PoliSci.  They’re two grades apart, with Koku being the older.  Those two years of greater experience shift the power balance between them significantly when Rikiya arrives for his freshman year, facing a new place, a new workload, an entirely new rhythm to his life.  For the first time, Koku is not merely a friend in similar circumstances who is still—as they’re both reminded near-constantly—subordinate to Rikiya’s every word.  Rather, he’s a senpai, someone with specific experience in every aspect of this new stage of life—and someone who’s had two years to become more eloquent, more well-studied, more confident, more mature.

Removed from the immediate supervision of the First Families for the first time in his life, Rikiya allows himself to lean on Koku in ways he never would have back home. Koku, for his part, has had his responsibilities here impressed on him by the First Families at some length, and has spent his entire life being groomed to devote himself to his Grand Commander.  Having said Grand Commander looking to him with such glowing esteem in his eyes—well, there’s no denying that it’s pretty enticing.  The two of them enter a romantic relationship that will endure for several years until Rikiya gets his head back around the idea that Koku’s ability to say no to him is fundamentally compromised.

The Bindi Connection—

I had no reason to develop them any, and thus I don’t have names to assign, but it seems that Twice’s No. 3, the smiling old woman with the gingham dress and the rough-and-ready attitude to combat, and Geten’s No. 2, the short-haired woman whose face is being devoured by her out-of-control sweater neck, are related.  Note the bindi on both of them, as well as the similar hair color, particularly in the page introducing all the advisors.  Mutual connection to Dabi’s No. 3, the guy who got into a fight with a hole punch and lost, is uncertain but possible based on the confronting-the-heroes page spread in which Hole Punch dude’s hand lays familiarly on Grandma Bindi’s back while Big Sis Bindi turns partly towards him as if to whisper some sarcastic observation about how lame Cementoss’s ponytail is.

———–      

FOOTNOTES

1: Regarding codenames, the first generation of the MLA tended to have names that reflected their meta-ability in some way.  From the second generation on, at the behest of Destro’s son, the codenames have become less literal, and thus less revealing.

2: Viz renders the job tile “Executive Director,” but having checked the raw, the Japanese term, senmu, is associated with a fairly specific level of executive authority, and it’s lower than I would peg “Executive Director,” which to my ear sounds synonymous or slightly below Chief Executive Officer.  Executive Vice President is wikipedia’s translation; Google returns Senior Managing Director.  In any case, she’s near the top, but not at the top.

3: At least, he wasn’t prior to meeting Shigaraki.  Now he’s pretty much in favor of a very organized and coherent belief structure that can be summarized as, “Watch Shigaraki tear down the world ‘cause he’s beautiful and I love him,” and honestly, mood.

4: I’ll just come out and say it: fandom blew Geten’s words way out of proportion because a bunch of people got mad that he was being mean to Everyone’s Favorite Serial Killer Dabi.

5: An archaic term by this period.  Even “meta-human” saw more use in academic parlance, while the term “quirk” had become much more widespread among the general population since its official adoption during the period of legislation twenty years prior.

[bettsfic]

Re. the last grad school ask -- I started my PhD program (humanities, not creative writing) directly out of undergrad and am in the strong minority in my program. Most people come in from other careers, or other degrees, and are at least in their mid-20s.

And I tell all the prospective students I talk to how much I wish I'd waited a few years.

I was so young. I didn't understand what grad school was (we didn't HAVE grad students at my small liberal arts college!) or what the training was supposed to lead to.

I'm in a program with excellent funding (and I talk for days about the kind of funding that makes a humanities program worthwhile and when somebody should say "nope not worth it), with supportive faculty and students, and with relatively light teaching obligations. But even with all the things that make my PhD a good thing to be doing *right now* ... The 21-year old me who was applying was so clueless.

Things I wish I had known:

- the PhD is training me to be a professor and researcher. Full stop. But. Academia is broken. There are very few jobs in my field, and a lot of people are deeply, psychicly hurt pursing them. The PhD, even from a great program with a good placement rate, is not a guarantee.

- so most of us will spend 5-6 years in a training program for a job we won't get. Making some money, but not necessarily CAREER money.

- sure! there are lots of other jobs out there that people with PhDs move into. But you don't NEED a humanities PhD for most of them. And so I'll have spent 7 years that I could have been getting job experience and professional networks on a degree that I didn't REALLY need in the first place.

And again, for me, those are 7 years I've been well-funded and have enjoyed. I've grown a lot! I don't necessarily want to discourage people from taking a funded PhD that could be relative security for 5+ years, with health coverage and intellectual engagement. It can be a very good thing to do! But a good thing to do if you understand what it is and how jobs work ... which, at 21, I absolutely did not!

And it took me a lot longer to get started on my project than my colleagues who came in having explored and thought for longer. I just didn't know what I wanted to do! I didn't have the social confidence or knowledge to ASK for things. The time I spent figuring things out was time many of my colleagues spent actively publishing and presenting, because they'd already done the figuring.

3, 4, 5 years in the non-academic world working, earning an income, experiencing different settings... would have set me up to be "successful" (or at least more confident) so much faster. (and I also have a lot of things to say about performative academic confidence... but OH BOY I so appreciate people who have had time to develop a value system and bullshit radar OUTSIDE of the academy because they can cut right through a lot of nonsense. I had to work in different ways to ground myself and think about my take on Impostor Syndrome and about how the kind of PERSON I want to be is not always modelled by scholars in a tenure rat race).

So that's long and rambly. But I think is mostly affirming how much I agree with your assessment -- find the right fit, because a program with a culture that will make you happy is one that will appreciate and benefit from your life experience. There are about 80 millions different paths to grad school (and there have been some lovely Twitter threads recently about "age at PhD").

But from somebody who didn't take that time, who will get the PhD before 30 and then have to figure out non-academic stuff for the first time... well, that different life experience would have been valuable on so many levels, before, during, and after my program. I wish I'd had it and I hope it doesn't make anybody feel like they don't have a place in grad school!

first of all, WHEN did tumblr increase the word limit on asks?? this is great!

second of all, thank you so much for sharing your story! i think in some ways undergrad tends to teach students how to be work machines, and you can’t have that kind of mentality in grad school. i took years to train myself out of the bad habits i’d developed in undergrad, particularly around project-oriented productivity versus consistent maintenance. and by that i mean, when you’re a student, you’re used to working 200% for 15 weeks a stretch, getting a grade for your efforts, and then taking a break. but in the working world, you don’t get that (unless you’re in project management or another similar field). you have to do the same things over and over, forever, and you don’t get a grade at the end. in fact you don’t get anything usually. your prize is keeping your job. for ambitious students whose identities pivot on grades, the working world can be really crushing. 

also, yeah, the job market. it’s abysmal and depressing to think about. there are writers i know who have done everything right -- published widely and to acclaim, been great literary citizens, have pedagogically sound practices, did a prestigious mfa and phd -- and they were still on the job market for years, and applied to hundreds of jobs. i know more writers who have quit trying to find jobs in academia than who have successfully secured them. obvs a different field with different professional expectations, but the shittiness is still there. 

[alittlebitsmarter]

Where should I go to college?

I’m currently a senior in high school trying to decide where to go to college and, by extension, for what major. The nature of this decision means what I choose will affect what career prospects are open to me down the road. Thus, I think it is useful to think about where I’d like to be after graduation in order to reverse engineer a path forward.

The difficulty in making this decision lies in the fact that I am unsure as to what career I’d like to pursue in the future. 

The deadline to commit to a college is May 1. 

The Situation

I am deciding between three different universities. Because I applied for different majors for each of these schools, attending each one would likely lead me down different career paths (barring any changes to my major/intercollegiate transfers). Here are the schools I’ve been admitted to:

The University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, where I was admitted to the Gies College of Business (cost of attendance would be ~$33K each year)

The University of Wisconsin-Madison, where I was admitted to the College of Letters and Science, and would study computer science (cost of attendance would be ~$54K each year)

Wesleyan University, where I could major in whatever I desire due to the liberal arts nature of the school (cost of attendance would be ~83K each year)

While all great opportunities on their own, I am not sure which one I should pursue.

Potential Careers

I’ve spent a good amount of time thinking about what career I’d like to have in the future, and I’ve narrowed my options down to about four paths that could be lucrative, impactful (whether directly or indirectly via earning-to-give), and personally fulfilling.

1. Investment Banking

Investment banking seems to be quite a common field for young, ambitious people like me to enter. The general idea here is that one works for one or two years as an investment banking analyst at a large bank (think Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan, etc.) before transitioning into private equity, a management role in a client company, or going back to school to get an MBA.

Am I a good fit for investment banking?

I do not think being an investment banking analyst would be fulfilling in it and of itself. The extremely long hours (ranging from 60-100 work weeks) do not appeal to me, nor does the ultra-competitive nature of the field. The principal question is whether those drawbacks are worth the exit opportunities (and salaries) available to analysts after a year or two. I’m not sure.

I think I could be an above-average investment banking analyst (think ~75% percentile) if I commit to this path. I am intrinsically interested in business, and could see myself in a strategy/development role at a large company down the road.

2. Consulting

This is another popular option for ambitious young people. The general idea here is to work at a Big 3 or Big 4 firm as a management consultant for a few years before transitioning into a management role with a client company or switching industries altogether.

Consulting is often presented as a good option for people who are unsure what they’d like to do after graduation. Many use it as a time to develop key business skills (e.g. financial modelling, creating presentations, and general professionalism) before deciding to commit to a specific industry.  

Am I a good fit for consulting?

Consulting involves frequent travel (usually every week), which is not something that I find appealing. Consultants seem to work long hours (ranging from 50-70 hour work weeks), which is slightly less than investment banking analysts. Again, I understand the importance of working hard early in your career, but I’d prefer to steer clear of unnecessarily long hours.

Consulting firms tend to have “intellectual” atmospheres compared to other areas of business, with many employees hailing from top universities. I think I would enjoy this kind of environment. I think I could become an above-average consultant if I commit to this path. I’m decently analytical, and I believe my strong verbal skills could help propel me forward.

3. Corporate Law

I would only do law if I could get into a T10 or T14 law school. The general sense I get from reading online forums is that if you do not go to one of the most prestigious law schools, you’re not going to be making very much.

The idea here is to work as an attorney at a prestigious firm in a major metro-area (think NY, LA, SV, Chicago) for 7-10 years before becoming a partner or moving in-house.

Am I a good fit for corporate law?

At the moment, I’d guess that my skills (which are mostly verbal/communication related) are best suited for law out of any of the options presented here. I’ve been told many times by friends and family that I’d be a good lawyer.

That being said, I’m unsure if my verbal skills are strong simply because I’ve spent a large amount of time developing those skills through my extracurriculars (e.g. writing for my high school newspaper and writing my book), or because I am naturally more talented with words than my peers.

4. Computer Programming

I became interested in computer programming after reading through the resources on 80,000 Hours’ blog and discovering Peter Hurford’s work.

The general idea here is to become a software developer at a large tech company or a small startup, depending on your preference. After a few years, you can become a Senior Developer or transition into a less technical management role.

Am I a good fit for computer programming?

I am quite uncertain as to whether or not I’d be a good fit for computer programming. I do not regard myself as someone who is “mathematically minded” (which could be important for programming), although I have gotten A’s in all of my high school math classes.

In the past few weeks, I have been working through The Odin Project, as well as exercises on Codecademy, in an effort to determine whether or not computer programming is for me. It’s important to note I have only spent ~15 hours on these activities. The results, therefore, are inconclusive. So far, I’ve been having fun coding. I really get a kick out of creating a program from scratch and working to create solutions to the given problems. But would I still enjoy it as the problems become increasingly technical? I’m sure not. I don’t know if I’m intrinsically mathematically-minded enough to become more than an average programmer.

I should note that the culture that surrounds programming (i.e. the laid-back offices, flexible hours, and relative autonomy for employees) is by-far the most appealing work culture to me out of any of the options presented.

Next Steps

In the next two weeks, I will do more journaling and thinking on these topics. I will also reach out to people in each of these fields in order to get their advice on my specific situation.

I think currently my safest option (keeping costs in mind) is to attend the University of Illinois, being as it will keep 3 of my 4 options available. If I decide to go all-in on programming, I could try to switch majors (though CS at Illinois is very competitive) or transfer schools.

I will report back here with any updates.

[duggardata]

All The Data:  Michaela (Bates) + Brandon Keilen

The Couple—

Michaela Christian (Bates) Keilen  (b. January 23, 1990)

Parents   Gil + Kelly Jo (Callaham) Bates

Child #   2 of 19

Hometown   Rocky Top, TN

Early Education   Homeschooling  (Abeka and IBLP / ATI)

Higher Education—

Tennessee College of Applied Technology (Bringing Up Bates (11–14–19), “Home is Where The Heart Is!”), Nursing / LPN  (2019—)

A.A. / A.S. in Liberal Arts / Medical Health Sciences (2016), Roane State Community College (Online)  (See Bringing Up Bates (9–22–16), “Three Pointers and Puppies.”)

Credentials—

Licensed Emergency Medical Technician  (TN; 2011—)

Licensed and AED–Certified First Responder  (TN; 2009—2012)

Occupation

Owner, Keilen Corner (Online Boutique)  (Oct. 2019—)

Nursing / LPN Student, Tennessee College of Applied Technology (2019—)  (See Bringing Up Bates (11–14–19), “Home is Where The Heart Is!”)

... Previously—

Owner, BrandonAndMichaela.com (Online Boutique)  (2017—2019)

Nanny  (Dates Unclear) (As of Late 2013 / 2014, Michel had the job for a “couple of years.”  Bringing Up Bates (1–22–15), “Training Up Bates.”)

EMT / First Responder, Medford Volunteer Fire Department  (Rocky Top, TN; 2009—?) (Bringing Up Bates (7–7–16), “The Big Chili.”)

Brandon Timothy Keilen  (b. September 15, 1989)

Parents   Ronald + Jillene “Jill” (Pope) Keilen

Child #   8 of 10  (Bringing Up Bates (2–26–15), “Michaela + Brandon”)

Hometown   _____, MI  (Id.)

Early Education   Homeschooling  (Id.)

Higher Education   B.A. in Biblical Ministry (2014), IBLP’s International Ministerial Institute  (Burnet, TX) (Note—Oddly, Brandon mentioned that his “final semester” at IMI was Fall 2013...  But, later, he’s still in school, and that’s why he and Michaela couldn’t get engaged until Spring 2015.  Duggar Data has a theory of why this is...  IMI is a 3–Year program, with an option to extend to 4 Years and earn a bachelor’s degree.  I think the 2013 graduation was from the 3–Year program.  Brandon must’ve opted to go for the bachelor’s degree, which explains the additional year.)

Occupation   [ Unknown ]

... Previously   Videographer / Creative Designer, Institute in Basic Life Principles (IBLP)  (Oak Brook, IL; ?—2019) (Note—Brandon first started working for IBLP in Chicago after his homeschool graduation, probably 2007 or 2008.  Bringing Up Bates (6–11–15), “Meet The Parents.”)

The Relationship—

First Meeting   c. March 2009

Location   IBLP Headquarters; Hinsdale, IL

Details   The Bates Family took a trip to Chicago, so that Michaela and her sisters could attend Journey to The Heart.  Before departing for the session, Michaela was at IBLP, where she happened to notice Brandon.  Brandon also recalls meeting the Bates Family, at that time.

Timing   We know that this all happened in 2009, “just after” Michaela’s 19th Birthday—i.e., January 23, 2009.  Apparently, it wasn’t immediately after, though, since Brandon recalls it as “Spring 2009.”  Duggar Data is pretty confident that it was March 2009—which is arguably in the spring—based on this Post on FreeJinger, reporting that that’s when Michaela did Journey to The Heart.  (Unfortunately, the Post cites to a page that’s now deleted, so it’s impossible to verify.)

Pre–Courtship   November 29, 2013  (See Also)  (Friday)

Location   by Phone  (Michaela in North Carolina.)

Details   After praying about it, Brandon called Gil Bates and asked him for permission to start a relationship with Michaela.  Gil and Kelly talked to Michaela, and called back later that day with their blessing.  Brandon then called Michaela, and their pre–courtship began.  (See Also.) 

Timing   On the “Our Story” Posts on their website, both of the Keilens recall the fateful first phone call happening on Black Friday 2013.  (Note—Thanksgiving 2013 was on November 28, so Black Friday was on the 29th.)  Oddly, some other evidence contradicts this, indicating it was on November 28.  Duggar Data can’t really explain why...  Brandon realized his feelings on November 28th, then called Gil on the 29th?  Regardless, my spreadsheet has November 29 as their Pre–C.S. Date, based on the “Our Story” Posts.

Courtship   December 30, 2013  (Monday)

Location   Restaurant at The English Inn; Eaton Rapids, MI

Details   While Michaela was visiting Brandon in Michigan, they went on a date to The English Inn.  Over dinner, Brandon gave Michaela a journal, a poem professing his love, and a gold–plated dried rose, then asked her to start an official courtship.  She agreed.  

Announced   January 2, 2014 on the Bates Family Website  (+3 Days)

Engagement   April 13, 2015  (See Also)  (Monday)

Location   Great Falls Park; McLean, VA  (See Bringing Up Bates (7–9–15), “Brandon Pops The Question.”)

Details   Brandon set up a scavenger hunt for Michaela, which led her all over the Washington, DC Area.  It coincided with cherry blossom season, which was a nice touch.  After a few too many clues, Michaela ended up at Great Falls Park, where Brand was waiting with the ring.  (Bringing Up Bates (7–9–15), “Brandon Pops The Question.”)

Announced   April 16, 2015 by UpTV  (+3 Days)

Featured On   Bringing Up Bates (7–9–15), “Brandon Pops The Question”

Wedding   August 15, 2015, 2:00 PM  (Saturday)

Location   Wallace Memorial Baptist Church; Knoxville, TN

Officiants   Gil Bates (Bride’s Father), Dr. S.M. Davis (Groom’s Mentor) (Bringing Up Bates (2–4–16), “Wedding Bliss and First Kiss.”)

MOH   Kelly Jo Bates  (Bride’s Mother) (Id.)

Best Man   [ Unknown / Unable to Verify ]

Announced   N/A  (No Formal / Media Announcement)

Featured On   Bringing Up Bates (2–4–16), “Wedding Bliss and A First Kiss”

Honeymoon   Wyoming and Montana  (See Also Bringing Up Bates (2–11–16), “Fly Fishin’, Zip Linin’ Honeymoon.”)

Information about the Keilens’ infertility struggle...  After the jump.

Infertility Struggle—

Since their marriage, Michaela + Brandon have struggled with infertility.  They went public with their struggle in January 2017, when they chose to discuss it on Bringing Up Bates (1–26–17), “Doggy Dilemmas.”  They have shared since shared additional details about their infertility on the show, their personal blog, and social media.  Here’s what we know—

Firstly, Michaela + Brandon very, very much want children, and it was expected they’d probably have a large family.  Here’s what’s been said about this—

Michaela:  “Brandon and I have talked a lot about having children...  I would have as many as I possibly could.”  (Bringing Up Bates [BUB] (1–22–15), “Training Up Bates.”)

Michaela (on the Keilens’ Blog):  “Growing up I always dreamed of being a mother someday. ... Children were the greatest miracle in my eyes, and I spent all my free time babysitting.  Every time I rocked a baby to sleep, I dreamed of someday cuddling my own little one.”

Brandon:  “That ... is an area we want the Lord to have control in. ...  He is just saying no for now.  We hope it’s not no for always—but, it’s no for now.”  (BUB (1–26–17), “Doggy Dilemmas.”)

Kelly:  “Everyone in the family has always predicted and said, ‘Michaela is going to be the one that has a really, super large family.’”  (BUB (1–26–17), “Doggy Dilemmas.”)

After 6 Months of marriage, Michaela + Brandon began to worry that Michaela wasn’t getting pregnant.  (BUB (1–26–17), “Doggy Dilemmas.”)  Michalea went to her doctor, who ran a few tests but told her:  “Don’t even think about a baby until you’ve been married at least a year…  Babies take time!”

By the Keilens’ 1st Anniversary, Michaela still wasn’t pregnant, and the Keilens decided to see a fertility specialist.  (BUB (1–26–17), “Doggy Dilemmas.”)  The Keilens have shared quite a bit about this process, including the following—

The doctor did extensive testing.  Apparently, Michaela + Brandon were both examined.  (BUB (1–25–18), “SUN Day, Fun Day.”)  Brandon hasn’t commented publicly on the process, but Michaela has...  She described doing “a lot of bloodwork,” and  getting “a lot of ultrasounds.”  (BUB (8–31–17), “Here’s The Scoop.”)  She stated that, over the course of a year, they “tried all of the major tests”—racking up significant medical bills, in the process.  (BUB (1–11–18), “Decorating Dilemmas Job Decisions.”)

Despite all the testing, the doctor hasn’t been able to determine what’s causing their fertility struggle.  (See BUB (8–31–17), “Here’s The Scoop” and BUB (1–25–18), “SUN Day, Fun Day.”)

One thing the tests did show is that Michaela hyper–ovulates.  Bringing Up Bates hasn’t mentioned what’s causing this, or whether her doctors even determined a cause.  (Medically speaking, hyper–ovulation means that, if Michaela conceives, she’s at increased risk of having multiples.)  (BUB (1–25–18), “SUN Day, Fun Day.”)

Around August 2017, Michaela decided to undergo one final test, “then take a little break” from all the medical intervention in her infertility.  The test was a hysterosalpingogram—i.e., a medical procedure that uses x–ray to visualize scarring in the uterus or fallopian tubes.  Dr. Vick did the test.  He identified, and was able to clear, a fallopian tube blockage.  He advised the Keilens to wait three cycles, then consider surgery if they’re still unable to conceive.  (BUB (1–25–18), “SUN Day, Fun Day.”)

As of 2020, it’s unknown if Michaela got—or intends to get—the surgery that Dr. Vick mentioned.

Michaela has said that she is interested in adoption, if she’s unable to have her own children, saying:  “Someday [I’ll have a baby], maybe, and if not, I’ll adopt me a baby.”  (BUB (8–31–17), “Here’s The Scoop.”)  As far as I know, Brandon hasn’t ever spoken publicly about the possibility of adoption, surrogacy, etc.

What’s Next—

The Predictor will assume a couple is incapable of having children if they’re 5+ SDs Late to announce Pregnancy #1, and they’ve been married for 5 Years.  In the Keilens’ case, they’re already >5 SDs Late to announce Pregnancy #1.  (As of April 11, 2020, they’re actually ~47 SDs Late...  Way, way later than 5 SDs...)  Their 5th Anniversary is this year, on August 15.  If they still haven’t announced a pregnancy by then, the Predictor will stop predicting children for them.

... That’s All The Data for Michaela + Brandon.

[addierose444]

Academic Advice for First-Years: Part II

The first part of this post can be found here. In this part, I will dive into Smith’s academic support systems. Admittedly, I wrote most of this prior to Smith’s decision for a fully remote fall semester and don’t exactly know what the resulting changes will be. 

One piece of advice that you will hear time and again is to go to office hours. While you don’t need to go all the time, you should try and go a few times so that when you really need them you aren't too intimidated. Office hours are something I have not yet fully utilized. This is in large part because I have maintained a very busy schedule that conflicts with many set office hours. It is essential that I point out that professors are very willing to make time to support you. I am speaking from experience as the “office hours” I attended during my first semester were all appointments outside of regularly scheduled office hours. The challenge with appointments (as opposed to true office hours) is that you need to self-advocate and must be a lot more proactive in scheduling them. This goes back to the general academic advise of starting assignments early. I would usually suggest staying a few minutes after class (or arriving early if possible) to communicate the support and time you need. However, with remote classes, I think an email may be more appropriate.

While there is value in trying to figure things out on your own, this is only true to an extent. Here is an anecdote from the very beginning of the spring semester. I spent hours agonizing over a relatively simple physics problem. I thought I knew what I was doing but was getting a very weird numerical answer and thus determined that I had no idea what I was doing. Noticing when a numeric result is unreasonable is actually a very important skill for scientists, mathematicians, and engineers. However, I was quick to get frustrated, lose confidence, and assume that I was wrong to place out of PHY 117. You can read more about my experience with AP classes here. Fortunately, my professor offered a variety of open hours (basically the same thing as office hours) one of which was the following morning. The real trick to office hours is that you still need to put in the work. Don’t just throw a problem back at a professor and proclaim that you don’t understand it. Instead, focus on what you did understand and where you got stuck. After explaining my initial approach, we worked through the problem on a fresh sheet of paper. It turns out I was doing the correct calculation but had the wrong units for the density of water. As a result of attending office hours, I came away with a much deeper understanding of the underlying physics concepts and the 4-step problem-solving framework. By attending office hours within the first week, it made it much easier for me to use them again. So in many ways, it was fortunate that I got stuck on that early physics problem. Another piece of advice for office hours is to slow down. I for one have a tendency to jump straight into the problem and talk a mile a minute. The takeaway here is that getting help is a lot more worthwhile than banging your head against the wall. 

Outside of office hours, tutoring is another useful resource. For STEM courses, the Spinelli Center is the place to go. For writing support, Smith has the Jacobson Center. Outside of writing services, the Jacobson Center also provides more general learning support. You can check out their study skills toolbox and other student resources here. Remember that these systems were built to aid you so don’t be afraid to use them. Furthermore, like office hours, it is advisable to familiarize yourself with these centers before you absolutely need them. For more general academic support, you can always reach out to your liberal arts advisor, class dean, or student academic advisor (SAA).

Lastly, if you require academic accommodations, you must register with the Office of Disability Services (ODS). This is best done now before the start of classes. While I have not yet used ODS, I recently learned that it is built to support students with and without documented needs. 

Best of luck with adjusting to college course work! Next week, you can look forward to a post about preparing for a new semester.