#anyway there’s no lesson here it’s just a post it note saying where I’m at

[goldkirk]

oh man, owning a body is way scarier than being in one while not owning it is

[archiverstappen]

the cat sitter (part 13) ✧ max verstappen

max verstappen x fem! reader

previous part | masterlist | next part

loosely inspired by the story on how max lost his cat

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maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris and 4.920.557 others

maxverstappen1 My crazy cat lady is finally back

view all 5.782 comments

yourusername GUYS DONT WORRY NO CATS WERE HARMED WHILE TAKING THIS PHOTO 🧎‍♀️

↳ username 🤨🤨🤨 suspicious

↳ yourusername BELIEVE ME PLEASE I WOULD NEVER PUT MY KIDS IN DANGER. I WOULD RISK MAX’S WELL BEING TO PROTECT THEM🫂

↳ maxverstappen1 WOW

yourusername starting to wonder, will there ever be a day where you finally post a decent picture of me 🙍‍♀️

↳ maxverstappen1 No

↳ yourusername there will be repercussions for your action

username I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

danielricciardo Okay now i get where the name ‘crazy cat lady’ came from

landonorris 👀👀👀 hehehe yourusername

↳ yourusername sHHHHHHHHH

sophiekumpen 😁🧡

username ANOTHER NON RACE RELATED POST FROM MAX?!?! WE WON

↳ username and it’s of y/n🥹 HE’S DEFINITELY IN LOVE

username SO WE’RE NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT HOW MAX WROTE “MY crazy cat lady”

↳ username REAL, FRIENDS DONT DO WHAT THEY DO😩

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yourusername

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yourusername not fast just furious

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maxverstappen1 SIIIIIUUU

maxverstappen1 Told you I’m a good teacher

↳ yourusername couldn’t see the road properly because my vision was blurry from all the tears that i held

↳ landonorris YOU MADE HER CRY?! maxverstappen

bffusername i jusT KNOW that the driving lessons were chaotic, but props to max for doing something no human being can afford to do 🥹

↳ yourusername iM A GOOD STUDENT!!!!

↳ maxverstappen1 Half of the lessons were filled with her having a breakdown, and the other half were filled with Y/N saying “huh” because she couldn’t hear my instructions through “Tokyo Drift” that was playing in the background

↳ bffusername sounds like the y/n i know 👍

bffusername ANYWAY so excited to finally be yor passenger princess 😘

↳ yourusername i would love to drive you around, but i still don’t know how to park 😁

friendusername Remember that time when you hit my mother’s car in high school? 😂 Look how far you’ve come!!

↳ yourusername THIS STILL KEEPS ME UP AT NIGHT!! IM SO SORRY MRS MARTIN 😭

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[notes]

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[messages]

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-

author’s note: IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! i really hope you guys like this one 🧎🏻‍♀️

taglist: : @flwr-stella @reidsworld @myloverjk-blog @debss-319 @hiraethrhapsody @electrobutterfly @love4lando @lunnnix @allenajade-ite @jjsprobablywrong @whoreks @soleilgrec @oscarwildingsworld @christianpulisic10 @thievin-stealing @glitterf1 @elliegrey2803 @trouble-sistar @escapism-writer @cornerofacry @hollie9111 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @ad-astra-again @canyon-lwt @thecubanator2 @lifesuckslife @leclercloml @sunny44 @nmw-am @sachaa-ff @multilovebot @glow-ish @moneygramhaas @whitefireproofs @icarus-nex @iloveyou3000morgan @ccallistata @copper-boom @fictionalcharacterslut @celesteblack08 @maxiel-jpg @slytherheign @lunyyx @series-books-food @coffeehurricanes @shrimpyshrimp @somanyfandomsbruh @justcallmeelli @laneyspaulding19 @ironmaiden1313

pictures (c) to pinterest and instagram

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

okay . while i was writing the essay , i was going on a big spiel about how fandoms often reduce characters to familiar archetypes . then when i finished writing i realized i actually don't know what the Fuck i was yapping about because it all doesn't really apply to the tadc fandom post-ep 2 ? like Cool !! ragatha's an absolute loser of a woman , i think everyone has known that at this point .

basically ragatha's not the Best model for when i want to talk about nice characters being mischaracterized in fandom because i stopped seeing people making her put-together anyway . i can think of other characters that'll fit the thesis better .

i'm only deciding to post what i had down because i think i did say some stuff of note and because people were interested for . some reason ! . just keep in mind that it kind of became a nothingburger .

i'm in the middle of rewriting it to be less about the fandom though and my god it's already around 1118 words what am i doing with my life

also apologies in advance for the walls of text

——— this is not an essay to get you to like ragatha if you’re feeling meh towards her , or even dislike her . opinions are opinions , you have characters that appeal to you and i have mine ! this is just a ramblefest on why i love her , how people characterized her , and commentary on fandom culture as a whole

this is also not meant to bash any headcanons ! like good for you if you see her as the mother figure in the circus found family . the term ‘ mom friend ‘ here is used to describe how people often reduced her and similar characters down to a caretaker role for other characters while ignoring the Depth they have

as i think is clear in this blog by now , my favorite character in a piece of fiction has always been a mentally ill woman . the more complicated the brain , the better . i don’t have a type , but i know more often than not i would gravitate towards characters that are either misunderstood or disliked by most of the fandom

can you guess which category ragatha falls under —

don’t get me wrong , i am NOT generalizing tadc fans here ! the idea of her being a well-put together person lessened around episode 2 which is GREAT because i got to read very cool fics — and i’m not saying you have to know every part of ragatha’s thought processes to talk about her ( though at this point i think i’ve heard enough takes that makes me want to say that — )

‘ nice characters ‘ ( especially female ones ! ) in fandom never have the most pleasant development in my experience . either they will be pushed aside because they’re seen as boring compared to the more brasher characters or they’ll be disliked for the few times they did something seen as ‘ not so nice ‘ . and in the few times where they Are being paid attention , they’ll be put in an arbitrary box that waters down their traits .

in other words , fandoms put characters in boxes . terms like ‘ mom friend ‘ and ‘ cinnamon roll ‘ are those boxes . they're common tropes in media that fandoms typically like . it’s why people were so disappointed to find out that jax is actually an unlikable asshole instead of a ' jerk with a heart of gold ' — these boxes make the characters easy to consume and understand .

as you can tell , i don’t agree with putting characters in boxes ! first of all , how are they supposed to breathe in there ?

secondly , it’s just restricting yourself from genuinely engaging with a piece of media , especially for a character-driven story like tadc . i would be More forgiving of this problem if tadc was a plot-heavy show where the lore’s the main focus , but The Characters Are The Focus , Johnathan . trying to understand the characters personally to extract any potential moral lessons from them Is The Point of those types of stories

thirdly , i call those boxes arbitrary for a reason ; they often don't describe the characters at all , and in some cases , even goes against their characterization . my biggest problem with mom friend ragatha is that it Takes away the things that makes her interesting as a character .

do you know what's so compelling about ragatha ? it's that , believe it or not , she is Not the most reliable . one of the most fascinating things with ragatha in episode two is how it shows her approaching emotions Vs. Pomni approaching emotions .

even though it's unintentional , ragatha can be seen as Dismissive and Overbearing . the way she tried to reassure pomni of not feeling hurt by being left behind can seem Passive-Aggressive . her conversation with kinger shows that she Assumes what the other person thinks without hearing them out . this contrasts against pomni who lets gummigoo speak out his feelings and actually had viable things to say than ' don't worry about it haha '

this contrast is interesting to note because it shows the world of difference between ragatha and pomni's emotional maturity .

you can tell that ragatha can be simple-minded . not in a ' she's a dumbass ' way , but in that she's Reluctant to approach uncomfortable emotions without beaming it with a ray of positivity . like you can tell she thinks that Repressing her emotions to the point she can't feel them is the same as ' processing ' them . all of these are stuff that don't fit the Mature Mom Friend archetype .

and that's Fine !! because she was never meant to be in the role anyway !! there's a common theme of Community and Support in tadc , and that Everyone Has Each Other . ragatha was never meant to be the Glue holding everyone together , she's meant to be a part of the Unit that is the circus .

there's also a conversation to be had about how older female characters — or at least characters that are seen as having stereotypically ' feminine ' traits of being kind and caring — are often being pushed to a reductive , supportive familial role that reinforces gender roles , but you didn't hear it from me !

anyways uh in conclusion ragatha's awesomesauce ok i'm going back to drawing

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 19-22 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Obligatory ShB spoiler warning.

First off, the two panels that took a silly amount of time just because I wanted to reflect Vivi’s impressions on the city.

Episodes 18, 19, 20 open up with Vivi being concerned with the most pressing matters:

Can’t fight if you ain’t pretty (or got just 1-2 outfits to be pretty in, that won’t do either)

I still really like the panel above, especially their pose. Episodes 19-22 show how they gradually get rid of physical boundaries. They didn’t even touch back when they first met (episode 15).

Vivi’s casual about physical affection with friends, just one of his core things.

Of course Vivi would trust and choose the company of a pixie, a supernatural being, over a (presumably) human who only reinforces Vivi’s worst opinions on humanity at that point in time, concealing himself and swimming in secrets. Get rekt nerd.

At least Vivi isn’t openly hostile, just.. Dismissive? I saw some other WoLs who outright hate Exarch for abducting the Scions and almost getting themselves, the WoL, killed at Ghimlyt Dark. Vivi, however, just wants to be left alone.

Tfw the love of your life is being stolen by your dear friend. Or vice versa? Or both at the same time? Anyway, Vivi and Feo Ul form a new cool kids' club and Exarch isn't invited.

Can't relax in your favorite secluded spot for a godsdamned moment without some pesky dragoon randomly popping out of nowhere.

While I hc Exarch being able to sense living presence around the Tower, imagine doing that 24/7 for every person. I like to think that he learned to filter it out, turn off/on at will. And while he's in a public place, with his glamour up, he doesn't need to upkeep the "radar", he's just chilling and is possibly lost in thoughts, and that's why Vivi startles him.

This scene bears more symbolic meaning than plot importance. And, uh, some foreshadowing? Forelighting? x'D While Vivi doesn’t fall (heh) for his savior, he’ll reflect upon this at a later time.

Vivi’s normally careful and stately. Yes he’s an elf but he do be carryin’ himself like a cat. There’s a lot of control and assertion behind his trademark nonchalant posture. So, NORMALLY, this wouldn’t happen. Maybe he got distracted by the shiny? And where’s Feo Ul?

Exarch, however, the man that chokes on air unprompted, in a moment like this acts before he could think. As some people correctly noted, the old man’s QUICK. The “screentime” stretches out as Vivi’s life almost begins flashing before his eyes, while for Exarch it's gotta be a mere second or two.

I’m extra proud of the colorwork here. As if blood’s gone from Vivi’s face, as if his entire body went cold, but life slowly returns to him, starting with that hand. You bet this’s brimming with subtext.

Exarch uses his left hand over the right, for better friction and probably because he doesn’t like the attention to his right hand.

I like that this panel’s caused confusion, it worked as intended :9 An all too vague dark joke that almost cost Vivi his life. In his head it went like “yeah anyone can fly once, when they’re about to go splat”, but he wasn’t only preoccupied with the jumps, but also didn’t KNOW yet that he HAS TO speak with a fae like almost with a child, or a lawyer. Simplest terms. No ambiguity. EVER. They’ll misinterpret you unwittingly, or on purpose.

And so they did. Or didn’t? Feo Ul’s spent a long time offscreen, but whether they chose not to help, or even gave Vivi a little push, will forever stay a mystery because why not.

Lesson learned.. On both sides.. Hopefully. Also, fret not, Exarch WILL say fuck one day, one day~

Vivi's lucky. Incredibly so. He's aware of it, doesn't see it as anything special, like you don't see anything special in being able to read this. Perhaps jumping up an unknown structure while being accompanied by an exceedingly curious and mischievous creature is risky even for his kind, but Vivi's so used to getting away with so many things that he doesn't stop to consider it for the tiniest moment.

The first genuine exchange of smiles.

Silver lining: now they have better chances at getting along and returning to that world-saving duty.

Update from January 2024: I came back here to tell you something that took me so long to realize about episode 20′s description:

And all he saw was the Light, and then he knew that Death wore white in this world.

I randomly popped off with this prose, which on itself is a cool thing, but now I realize the extra meanings it could take on. Thinking about 5.x and Elidibus has me feeling unwell in the best way. THAT VIVI ALSO WEARS WHITE HERE IS UH. A coincidence. But it also kinda works as the Warrior of Darkness becomes somewhat of a local Reaper in the First, and then, well, then we have that Light corruption arc :3c

Vivi's calm and tender enough for a pixie to trust him with their wings.

Feo Ul ate and drank several times their size, and all that hero talk.. Ugh. Time for a nap.

Drawing this made me yawn at least 3 times. You’re not immune either.

He’s activating his scanners :>

Vivi's definition of nice is "not nagging, begging or preaching, and using bare facts and logic to convince the hero to do the hero thing".

Literally the next page if you’re reading in order :’> Riiiiiiiiight. That hero thing.

We don’t question whether Vivi invited his loveliest branch, or if they invited themselves. The fact is, they’re there and Vivi’s totally cool with it.

Exarch must be watching. And probably foaming at mouth as Feo Ul keeps leading in the race for Vivi’s heart. They don’t only earn the hero’s trust, but get in his bed and, gasp, brush his hair.

Vivi's getting comfy in his role somewhere between a disney princess and Feo Ul’s pet.

A writing-related tangent incoming, but, since you’re here, I assume you’re already somewhat interested in this kinda stuff.

So, there’s the script, the plain text that waits to get illustrated. The screenplay, if you will. I don’t just sit down and draw enough random things to fill a few pages, I approach this as an actual cohesive serialized story.

I changed a good half of this episode when I began storyboarding it. In the initial script from some months ago, Vivi said "I slept so well". Something about this didn't sit right with me. It’s the most basic mistake of telling instead of showing. I asked myself, would he, a person who takes good sleep and dreams for granted, say that out loud? Nah. I removed that bit, and drew him stretching deliciously. He also asked Feo Ul if they guarded his dreams, they smiled vaguely but warmly just like in the finalized version, but then Vivi simply muttered "I could get used to this" and gave them headpats. I decided to elevate this scene by adding this tiny rollercoaster, which brought Feo Ul's greyness to the forefront, and thickly hinted that Vivi doesn't only sleep well, but has nice dreams that he probably starts cherishing after this.

To be fair, this isn’t super important for the main plot, I just wanted to highlight the difference between Vivi and Exarch, the latter being in a hate-hate relationship with sleep. Vivi’s affinity with dreams is a door I like to keep open for the possible future story (talking post-EW events).

Now you know this’s the face they make before going apeshit.

Imagine if this prank didn't exist and instead Vivi simply said "I slept so well, this's so important to me". I’m proud of the writing muscle I’m growing on the fly ;w;

Ardbert's chance to act and feel normal, thwarted in the next few seconds.

I'm so glad that people are picking up on this!! “Hey man” is Vivi’s way of providing whatever comfort he could. An illusion of normalcy. He’s emotionally intelligent when it matters.

..But he should’ve also considered that Feo Ul can and will ruin the vibe :’>

Another screenwriting thing: this episode lacks an establishing shot, i.e. the obligatory zoomed out view on everyone in the room, but I think this’s a rare case of “less is more”. Along with the light vs shadow, it reinforces the feeling of separation. Vivi and Feo Ul are shown together, interacting, doing cute stuff, while Ardbert’s alone. Sorry not sorry for the hurty :’>

This’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for reading and paying so much attention! People start to notice and analyze the things I’m weaving in, and it’s the best kinda interaction I as a creator could wish for.

[miuszn]

Ok i Just found my new fav writer 🤍so i NEED to ask this ( do It only if you want)

What about an ellie x fem!reader where they go out on Patrol ,they run into a lot of zombies of every type , ellie gets bit and reader sees It so now ellie needs to explain the whole immunity thing and reader believes her ,

They go back to Jackson where Joel (lets Say he skipped golf lessons this time) finds out and freaks out and gets mad at ellie cause She wasnt supposed to tell anyone so he wants ellie to break up with reader but ellie doesnt want to so they fight and ellie goes back to reader for comfort

Its up to you if Joel and ellie fix this whole argument thing

(also Sorry if my english Is perfect🤍)

hiii anon <33 first of all i’m so honored u consider me ur fav writer i never expected to get so much love from the community so fast im rlly grateful to all of u hehe <33 . anyway , i rlly love ur idea !! i decided to write a short drabble instead because i’m working on another fic but i still wanna post some stuff while i’m working on that , hope ur fine w that 🥹🩷 ( note : this is an alternate universe where ellie already forgave joel and they were starting to fix their relationship .. also this might be kinda ooc especially joel bc i’ve never written him before eheh )

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

you weren’t sure how it happened. you were only gone for a second, you swore, and somehow ellie got bit. you knew it was a bad idea to leave her in a room full of clickers, but you knew she was strong and should’ve been able to clear them out with ease. the second you saw the small bite mark on her hand, you realized what had happened. your heart sank. in a panic, you burst into tears and kept apologizing over and over for about 15 minutes until ellie was able to calm you down and explained to you that she’s immune, leaving out the details of the whole situation with joel and the fireflies. of course, you didn’t believe her. it seemed ridiculous. how the hell would someone be immune and not be out there in some lab being researched or whatever, like in movies?

it took you a while to believe her, but eventually, you did. you helped wrap her hand with bandages so no one would see the note mark, because the less people knew, the better.

you were distraught for the rest of the day. you felt horrible. she kept telling you there’s no need to keep apologizing, but you still felt the need to. what if that had been someone else? what if ellie wasn’t immune? how the hell was she immune in the first place? so many questions ran through your head.

later that night, you laid awake still thinking about today. you were disappointed with yourself for what you did, yet still so confused.

you heard some knocking on your window, and looked out to see ellie. you opened your window and let her in. she sat on your bed next to you.

“what’re you doing here?” you asked.

“just wanted to check on you,” she replied, “and. uh. joel’s kinda mad.”

you were confused. you wondered how he even found out, but it’s like she read your mind and answered.

“i told him about what happened today. just casually. and he completely lost it.”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

“i can’t believe that girl let you get bit.” joel wasn’t even looking ellie in the eye. he was extremely disappointed in both of you.

“it wasn’t her fuckin’ fault, joel! i didn’t think anything bad would happen either! if you’re gonna blame anyone, blame me-“

“i’m blamin’ the both of you! what the fuck did you think was gonna happen back there? leaving you in a room full of clickers to fend for yourself? now one more person knows about you bien’ immune and all. god knows if she can even keep a secret.”

“what the fuck makes you think shes just gonna tell everyone? she’s not like that at all. why the hell are you acting like you don’t know that-“

“why the hell are you actin’ like that girl’s any good for you? all she does is get you into trouble.”

ellie went silent. she was shocked at how different he was acting. all this time he had been so nice to you, not once showing a sign of not trusting you or disliking you. she was conflicted, and in the heat of the moment, she just turned around and left, fuming with anger. she was starting to wonder if joel was actually right, but realized that was such a stupid thought. the worst part is, she wasn’t even sure if he meant it. now she didn’t know what to do. just as they were starting to fix things, life threw another curveball at them.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

you were hurt by what ellie was saying. his words just further fueled the thoughts in the back of your mind saying that this was all your fault. but ellie realized this and tried her best to comfort you. she kept saying it wasn’t your fault, that she fucked up too, that she’s sure he didn’t mean it and he was just angry. while you were hurt by his words, that wasn’t your main concern. you thought about how this incident just further damaged their already broken bond that they’ve been trying to fix these days. you felt like because of you, all that progress was thrown away in less than 24 hours. and it was an ugly feeling. you felt even worse than you did before, and you didn’t know what to do.

“ellie..” you placed your hand on hers, “i’m sorry.” you started to tear up.

“hey..” she pulled you close and hugged you.

“it’s just.. i don’t know what exactly happened with you and joel. you don’t have to tell me. and everything is getting better now and i’m just scared i’ve ruined it and i just-“

“hey,” she interrupted you, “don’t worry about that, okay? it’s not your fault. i’ll.. i’ll figure it out. you don’t have to worry about me and joel. we’ll be fine.”

“are you going to forgive him for it?”

“i’m not sure,” she sighed. “if he didn’t mean it, maybe. but if he did, i doubt i can.”

“i don’t want you to lose progress with him just because of me..”

“we’ll be fine. please.. just.. stop worrying, okay?”

you nodded hesitantly.

while the guilt of possibly extending the process of ellie’s forgiveness of joel would continue to exist within you, at least for as long as it took her to finally reconcile with him, you were grateful to have her by your side. and you were sure to be with her every step of the way.

[thyla]

@machine-slays-dragons​ asked for a steddie fic rec. thought it might be easier to do a post and share. on request there will be no vampire!eddie fics on this list. and also i’m fairly new to steddie so i’m sure a lot of these fics have been read by lots of people. But I will try to stay clear of adding very popular ones to this list. so anz, hopefully there’s at least one fic on this list you haven’t read!! this isn’t even close to everything i’ve read just ones i’ve recently read. so here’s a short fic rec! Also! it’ll be a mixture of fics i’ve read on here and also fics i’ve read over on ao3.

Eddie’s Memory Log or read it here (starting here because I just finished this fic and it’s amazing 😘 go read!) 38,523 words

The only reason Steve volunteers to keep a journal to track Eddie Munson’s skim-milk memories, is because of the twerps. They have school, they can’t commute to the government-protected hospital that’s all the way in the city. That, and they gave Steve this well-rehearsed, tearjerker performance about how grateful they would be. About how grateful Eddie would be. Pfft like shit on a stick, he’ll be grateful. The dude doesn’t even remember how old he is, how the hell is supposed to be grateful for Steve Harrington jotting down notes in binder? But those kids have been through Spielberg-level disaster shit. Steve has too, but they’re just kids. So he’ll do it. He’ll do it for them and only them.

never been kissed (26,726 words)

Someone should... definitely check on how his brain is doing, after Eddie’s confession. Virginity is bullshit anyway, right? Robin told him about it, how it’s a completely made-up societal construct that invalidates a lot of queer people’s sexual experiences, and how toxic it can be to straight relationships too, so he can take her lesson to heart and be normal about it. Totally. “That’s so fucking hot,” he blurts out. Okay Harrington, way to be normal about it!Or, Steve is experienced, and Eddie is a virgin.

in breakable heaven (23,724 words)

"Dustin…” Nancy asks slowly. “Do they know we know?”

“No?” Dustin tries, but the way his voice goes up an octave or two betrays him.

“Dustin.” The girls say in unison.

“Okay, yes, they know you know!” Dustin finally gives in, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. It’s been one long summer and he just wants this thing to be over with already.

"Wait." Robin says. "They don't know that we know they know."

OR: Steve and Eddie are trying to hide their budding relationship, but their friends keep finding out anyway. Things take a turn for the worse when their friends try to mess with them to get revenge (based on Friends s5ep14 The One Where Everyone Finds Out)

slowly learning that life is okay series (35,112 words)

Under a much different circumstance, Eddie would have loved to have Steve’s eyes looking over him like that, would love to have that determination focused on him, but Eddie is very much dying, he knows it, so he smiles at Steve’s misplaced confidence instead, “High expectations, Stevie. Where’d you learn to swing like that anyway?”

“I’ll tell you,” Steve’s voice is a bit shaky, his tone wavering, even as he puts on a brave face, “but you have to stay alive, Munson.”

If he had more strength, he’d consider testing his luck one last time, tease Steve by asking if he swings for Eddie’s team, but- he’s tired.

Dying young. What a fucking nightmare.

Or, what if the Party defeats Vecna in time, and Eddie lives?

There id a Light That Never Goes Out series (73,886 words)

It’s not even the nightmares most of the time. At this point, Steve would totally settle for some up close and personal time in his brainpan with the Upside Down if it meant he could actually fucking sleep.

Crimson and Clover verse (20,685 words)

“There’s no immediate supernatural danger to our universe currently, not at this exact moment. I’ll be sure to let you know if there is. I’m just trying to get a little buzzed and have a good night, okay? Not everyone has to be perpetually horny all the time.” “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!” Robin says, mock-hurt.

Or, Steve has a bisexual identity crisis and Eddie just wants to make him feel good.

or or or I saw a post about Eddie having a black hankie in his back pocket which in gay hankie code in the eighties meant that you were into S&M.

don’t ruin this on me (2,298 words)

Steve had always loved making his partners feel good. Watching people cum just from his mouth, their legs clamped around his ears–it was his favourite thing.

Or it was, before Eddie Munson ruined it for him. Ruined him..

(Or: Eddie sets out to Destroy Steve in the best way.)

Seems to Satisfy (5,348 words)

“I can’t like… get hard. At all. Since, uhhh -” he trailed off awkwardly.

There was silence, for a second. Steve’s fingers dug into his thighs.

“You… what?” said Eddie, finally.

love is like ghosts (7,780 words)

They stand at the base of a short flight of stairs leading up to the old university library. From everything Steve’s read, it’s one of the most haunted places in Indiana… within a tank of gas’ drive… that would let them in after hours.

“It’s the witching hour,” Eddie says spookily. He’s come up behind Steve, pressing close and wiggling his fingers on Steve’s shoulders.

Steve huffs a laugh and starts double checking his pockets for his share of the gear. Something to focus on that’s not the way Eddie’s breath ruffles his hair and skims over his cheek, raising goosebumps in its wake.

It’s not like he doesn’t like the attention, the closeness, the physicality of Eddie. He does. Probably too much. Especially since they’re just friends. Steve knows he’s not special to be on the receiving end, it’s how Eddie is with everyone.

the lathe (82,547 words)

"This time, do it right. This time Eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. This time, Steve will do it right."

— or, steve relives the day they try to kill vecna over and over, and eddie just can't seem to stop dying. steve finds this totally unacceptable.

flight risk (81,321 words)

Eddie Munson is famous for giving his bodyguards the slip. Enter Steve Harrington. Has this bratty rock star finally met a babysitter that can keep up with him?

Rock My World (23,160 words)

After a lot of nagging from Dustin, Steve agrees to take him to see Eddie’s band, Corroded Coffin, play at the Hideout. He finds himself focused on more than just the music…

—

Or, Steve has a hell of a revelation.

In Your Eyes series (48,965 words)

It was decided then and there in the Buckley residence’s lounge, on their weird Persian carpet while staring up at the off-white ceiling and Robin giggling at his side. He was going to rock Steve Harrington’s platonic world, man. And nothing was going to get in his way.

Or... Eddie notices Steve struggles with touch and in trying to help his new friend, develops feelings along the way.

i don’t ask much (i just want you) (8,224 words)

"The fuck are you doing, Harrington?"

"Getting comfortable." Is the only response Eddie receives before Steve's head lands on his shoulder, half on his chest as he scoots up in the bed. Eddie freezes, mid air guitar solo, and frowns.

"Personal space, dude." He's so proud of his voice for not cracking when he says it, "Heard of it?"

Steve snorts and takes a puff, smoke clouding around his mouth before he blows it away, lips pursed in the air. "Don't think you're one to talk about personal space but I'll move if you want."

the affliction of the feelings (27,203 words)

“Hold on,” Robin interrupts. “Hold on, is this— are you, like. Do you know what masochism is?”

“I know I act like it sometimes, Robin, but I’m not actually fucking twelve,” Steve says.

OR: Eddie has a black hanky in his back pocket.

Steve and Eddie: Alternative ‘First’ meeting (read here on tumblr)

The Shire is NOT on Fire (54,148 words)

The kids convince Steve to take them all to a Renaissance Faire and LARP event. Steve has more fun than he admits. And then Steve has a LOT more fun than he admits.

November Paramedic (read here on tumblr) or on ao3 (25,662 words)

Eddie has had his fair share of fantasies, but none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

That's when the "sexy men at work"-calendar got added to his porn stash and orgasms as he knew them changed forever. All the men in the calendar are hot, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic. He's got this look in his eyes, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in it.

And everything is fine. Everything is great. Eddie's been single forever and he has no idea where he's headed in life, but he's fine.

At least until he's collateral damage in a bar fight after a gig, and none other than his sexy November-paramedic arrives to treat his wounds.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

2, 14, 28, ship of your choice!

2. “My head keeps spinning—oh wait, it might actually be my feet.”

14. “It burns!”

28. “I’m so tired.”

Here's some fluffy, vaguely post-season 2, vaguely alternate timeline where everyone is happy and alive at Kaer Morhen Geraskefer! CW for a very drunk (but happily so) bard.

There aren’t many quiet nights to be had at Kaer Morhen, what with the half dozen witchers, two sorceresses, a tiny menace of a former princess, and a larger menace of a bard inhabiting it this winter. But tonight, Yennefer is determined to have one. She has a book she borrowed from Eskel, which is turning out to be a mildly amusing adventure story. She has a bottle of wine Vesemir was kind enough to dig out of storage for her, which will taste decent if she drinks enough of it. She has a crackling hearth, a warm blanket, and a comfortable chair.

It’s the closest thing to peace and quiet she’s experienced in quite a while.

Until she hears the sound of loud, obnoxious singing in the hallway. Yennefer takes note of what page she’s on and sets down the book, just as the door flies open and Jaskier comes stumbling into the room, arms spread wide. “Yennefer, darling! I’ve missed you so!”

His face is flushed, his doublet is in disarray, and his eyes are glassy. Yennefer looks between him and Geralt, who is holding onto the back of Jaskier's doublet to keep him upright. “What did you let him get into now?”

Geralt looks aggrieved. “What makes you think I let him do anything?”

“He left me unattended with Lambert,” Jaskier says proudly.

"I take it Lambert gave you White Gull?" Yennefer asks, glaring at Geralt.

“He did!” Jaskier looks very pleased, like this is some grand achievement of his.

The amount of things that Jaskier has put in his mouth after explicitly being told that they might kill him will never fail to amaze Yennefer. She spares a thought to his poor parents who had to ensure that he survived toddlerhood. “If you die, bardling, it better not be in here.”

“He’s not going to die.” Geralt guides him to sit on the edge of Yennefer’s bed. “He just had a sip.”

Jaskier giggles and leans against Geralt’s side. “My head keeps spinning—oh, wait, it’s my feet! Geralt, why are my feet spinning? Is this some more interdimensional bullshit? Because if it is, I need another drink.”

“No, you don’t,” Geralt and Yennefer say at the same time.

“What are you doing here?” Yennefer adds, turning her attention to Geralt, since she doesn’t expect sensible conversation from Jaskier.

“He missed you.” Geralt tries and fails not to let his lips twitch.

“I wanted to say goodnight to my favorite witch.” Jaskier attempts to bat his eyelashes at her, which ends up looking like he has something in his eye. “And once I said goodnight to Triss, I figured you were right down the hall.”

Geralt and Yennefer exchange eye rolls as Jaskier chortles at his own cleverness.

Yennefer waits until the bard has stopped giggling before she says, “I’m always happy to see my favorite bard.”

“Aww, Yennefer.” His eyes go soft.

“I should portal to Cidaris to see Valdo tomorrow.”

Jaskier’s squawk echoes off the high stone ceiling of Yennefer’s bedchamber. He clutches his hands to his chest like he’s been hit by an arrow. “Spurned by the woman I love! The betrayal, it burns! Geralt, I’m distraught. Hold me.” He throws himself sideways, but misses Geralt entirely and nearly falls off the bed. Only Geralt’s witcher fast reflexes stop him from cracking his head open on the floor.

Geralt pulls Jaskier safely into his lap, peering around him at Yennefer. “Do you have anything to help him sober up? Otherwise, he’ll be hungover for days.”

“I don’t know.” Yennefer tries to look annoyed, but she can’t quite hide her amusement. “Then he won’t learn a lesson. Anyway, if he’s hungover, he’ll sleep all day. Think of how quiet it will be.”

Jaskier, who is busy nuzzling at Geralt’s shoulders, doesn’t seem to hear her.

“You’ve never seen him hungover,” Geralt says with the expression of a man reliving untold horrors. “It’s mostly whining and puking.”

“Fine.” With a put upon sigh, Yennefer crosses to the table where she keeps an assortment of potions. “Here.” She tosses a bottle to Geralt, who catches it deftly. “I brewed this to give to you if you take too many potions, but it should work well enough for a bard who can’t hold his liquor.”

Geralt uncorks it with his teeth and offers it to Jaskier, who leaves off trying to crane his neck so he can nuzzle the witcher’s pectorals long enough to obligingly take a sip.

“Blegh.” Jaskier makes a face. “I liked the White Gull better.”

“Tough shit.” Geralt presses a gentle kiss to Jaskier’s temple. “You’re never getting a sip of White Gull again.”

Jaskier makes a whining noise, sagging back against Geralt. “I’m so tired.”

Yennefer loves this ridiculous man so much and she has absolutely no idea why. That being said, she's more than ready to get back to her quiet, peaceful evening. She crosses the room to press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, bardling.” She leans around him to brush her lips over Geralt’s. “Goodnight, Geralt.”

Geralt knows a dismissal when he hears one, so he turns his head to press a kiss to her wrist before he stands, scooping Jaskier up in his arms. “Come on, let’s get you to bed so Yenn can get back to her book.”

“Geralt, you cad.” Jaskier grins up at Geralt in what he clearly thinks in a rakish manner. “Carrying me off to ravish me?”

“You just said you were tired.”

“I’m never too tired to be ravished.”

“You’re going to be asleep by the time we get back to our room.”

“Am not!”

Yennefer watches them go, flicking her hand to close the door behind them. With a shake of her head, she settles herself back in her comfortable chair in front of the fire, takes a sip of wine, and picks her book back up.

A minute later, she hears Jaskier’s snoring from all the way down the hall.

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

[aspecsolstice]

Analysis of Clues to What Likely Caused Flan's Exile

Hi all! This post is in response to a question from the NDM Discord server that I got very carried away with answering. Instead of posting yet another lengthy wall of text on there (which I often can't help from doing, haha), I decided this was worth making into a post and trying out in the tumblr format! Especially since I'd been considering making a casual blog on here anyway. Without further ado:

Just like my dear friend Laura, I've always thought that Keagan was the reason for Flan's exile, and there are definitely strong clues in certain asks that I'd like to point to in support of that idea, even if they don't directly confirm anything.

Before I really dive into those specific clues, let me first provide my understanding of the timeline, since I might be off on a thing or two but this is how I've interpreted it:

1). For what seems to be most of the 200-year-long war, Flan acted very differently

(confirmed change by Maeve and Robin, the latter giving a timeline to it by saying he was “apparently kind of a jackass during the war”, and this is something I'll get to later, but it's worth noting this was specifically a response to a question about how he used to flirt)

2). Flan and Keagan get involved and subsequently get each other hurt in different ways sometime prior to the end of the War

(not confirmed events of course, but if true, I think the implications are that they were nearing the end and had a lot to do with it, but still prior, due to the state Flan was in:

First, Keagan was said to have “distinguished himself during the War of the Courts as someone with a knack for intrigue and espionage” with whispers of him having been involved with “the end of the War,” which can reasonably be interpreted as him having deceived and betrayed Flan to get the info he needed to help him turn the tides

And second, it was specifically said that “before the conclusion of the War,” Flan technically did cross the border into Finias, but only when “time was of the essence, and he… Well. Let’s just say he wasn’t quite in the right state of mind to take in the surroundings,” which to me speaks not only of his understandable PTSD from the horrors of such a long war but a specific state that resulted from a recent event, such as a fresh betrayal, as well as whatever wolf-form-related damage was implied to be done to Keagan in return potentially also weighing on him)

3). Then after the conclusion of the War, Flan is either formally exiled or otherwise forced by circumstance to spend time away from the new Unseelie capital

I tried to keep the above to just establishing the timeline of the events I'd like to discuss, but with that done, I'm ready to get more into the meat of the evidence heavily implying that not only did Flan change as a result of betrayal by a lover during the War, but that he was publicly shamed in some way over the relationship, supporting the idea that it had far more impactful repercussions than a broken heart alone and led to his exile.

The strongest implications are found in three responses to asks about how Flan used to flirt, starting with the one where Maeve acknowledges his change and says, “I’m not happy about how he ended up learning some of the lessons he did, but it’s best to leave the past in the past, in some cases.” I touched on Robin's response earlier, but I'd like to pull a later quote from that same ask where they caution, “This is going to sound a little strange coming from me, but I’d avoid giving the guy a hard time over it, if I were you.” The echo and weight of these two responses, especially considering the latter to be such an uncharacteristically serious one from Robin, imply that these “lessons” Flan learned in regards to his flirting involved pretty severe consequences.

Then there's the glaring fact that Robin isn't even speaking from firsthand experience here (given how she wasn't around during the War), and Flan is not really the kind of person to confide in him about such personal matters willingly (nor would Maeve be the one to spill Flan's secrets if he confided them in her), raising the important question of how Robin came to be so knowledgeable about it in the first place. However, I believe this is answered in a third such ask about Flan's past flirting, where the dev statement to me suggests that not just Robin, but the public as a whole is at least partially aware of the situation.

They might not know the details, but something appears to be known based on the statement that, “Most folks are too intimidated to flirt with the Unseelie King, especially given… Well, never mind. Let’s just say Flannán was not always so austere nor hesitant to trust affection. For better or worse, he’s changed quite a bit since the War.” In addition to further supporting the idea of Flan having been betrayed by a lover during that time (specifically being left unable to “trust” the way he could before), this quote speaks volumes about what's being left unsaid when it intentionally trails off, especially when paired with tags on a different post that again emphasize how Flan is “#man's not as willing to display vulnerability these days #particularly so to the public.”

When you combine all the clues, these are clear indications to me that whatever changed Flan was not only traumatic and romance-related but somehow a relatively well-known affair (i.e. to the point that Robin finds out post-war and treats it seriously, that it apparently makes “most folks” even more hesitant to flirt with him, and that Flan is now painfully mindful of the public's perception of him as a result), implying that at least some degree of public shame over the relationship was involved.

Under the KeaFlan interpretation, there are many different possibilities for how this could have played out (no way to know whether it took place when Keagan's betrayal was first discovered or later near the time of Flan's exile, what person or situation actually outed Flan in the public eye, how much was revealed, how many were actually there to witness it vs how much was spread by word of mouth, etc.). Regardless, the bottom line is that it would make perfect sense as the kind of affair he might be publicly shamed over and face consequences for, due to the betrayal impacting far more than just Flan on a personal level by granting the Seelie a turning point in the War.

This situation thus lines up with the timing and all of the beats of what's been established or implied, as well as naturally providing a case for why Lugaid would go to such an extreme as exile to punish his chosen successor:

From his perspective, not only did Flan's “weakness” give the Seelie the edge in the first place, but he then failed to redeem himself by turning things back in the Unseelie's favor before the War ended. On top of that, Lugaid might see fit to distance himself from Flan due to the latter bringing public disgrace depending on how that played out (though I'm not discounting the possibility of Lugaid himself being the one to shame him in the interest of “teaching him a lesson,” it just seems likely he'd want to handle it privately if possible, to keep from publicly undermining his legacy).

-

Also, for fun as a quick added bonus, I did find what I believe to be another clue relating to Flan's exile, but this one relates to his life post-exile. I don't have any particularly strong leanings on exact location (though I loved reading the ideas people had on Discord!), but after this find, I'm definitely of the belief that Maeve was with him, if not for the entire exile then at least for some amount of time right before his return. As we know, Robin was not around for the war, and it's said that they “'joined' the Unseelie Court prior to Maeve and Flannán returning to the capital.”

“Returning to the capital” is vague enough that it wouldn't have to mean returning together from Flan's exile, such as if the two had been on a short trip away. Even so, I think it's likely, given how this particular return to the capital is being framed as something significant to the timeline.

[satoru-psych]

Learning curve - Gojo Satoru x Reader (18+)

| Pairing: Gojo Satoru / Fem!Reader (afab) / F/M / Teacher! Gojo x Student! Reader.

| Tags/content: Slow burn, Teacher x Student, Age Gap, Smut, Rough sex, Oral sex, Cunnilingus, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Eventual sex, Corruption Kink, Vaginal fingering, Drinking, Mild Dub-con. Just. A lot. Of stuff. *Minors Please dni.

| Summary: Gojo takes you on as a student after the other two 3rd years get suspended. little does he know, there's an ulterior motive behind those doe eyes of yours.

*Gojo is 28, Reader is 18.

| CHAPTERS 1-4

| Next Chapter: Coming soon.

| Series Masterlist

| Word count: 15.4K

//Note: Hiiii ^_^ A few people told me I should post this on here, since it was already on my AO3, and since I just updated with the latest chap, I thought might as well post them all together since it’s not that long. I’ll be linking the next chapter once it’s up. This is actually my first ever fic so I hope you guys like, oki byeeeeee!

AO3 link.

———————————————————————————————

CHAPTER 1 (PROLOGUE): LOLLIPOP

Gojo cares for his students, he really does. He knows the cruel, heartless nature of the Jujutsu world can shatter the hearts of even the strongest, and having experienced that first hand, he vowed to never turn a blind eye again.

So he pays attention, well, as much as he can with his busy schedule, even if it means little things like remembering their favorite sweets and bringing a box, or taking them out to eat after a mission.

It brings him a sense of peace to see their smiles, a feeling in his chest akin to a blue spring.

Despite his adoration for his students, he was never the kind to favor one over the other, and since he’s started teaching he treats all his students equally. Though as much as he tried to deny it, he may or may not have a very tiny insignificant soft spot for your saccharine smiles and honey dipped voice.

Gojo was also a very busy man, missions and lessons with the 1st years taking up a majority of his time already, so he’s not entirely sure why he’s considering adding you to his list of students too. He wasn’t a teacher during your first year, but he basically treated you like one of his students anyways, albeit not as close because he wasn’t around you as much. so what harm would it be to start teaching you too right?

He stared at the email on his computer screen from Yaga, announcing that the other two 3rd years have officially been suspended and that you needed a teacher for the time-being while he sorts things out with the higher ups in regards to the suspension.

“Well, guess I can help out a little” he muttered to himself, throwing 5 cubes of sugar in his tea as he wrote back to Yaga, saying he can take you as a student effective immediately.

He sipped on it while he waited for a reply, getting one a few minutes later that reads,

“Great, meet me in my office in 30 minutes so we can discuss scheduling and paperwork.

~ Yaga”

-----------------------------

“Thank you for agreeing Satoru, I know this was really short notice but Atsuya said his hands were full and Nanami has no interest in teaching”

He motioned for Gojo to sit on the sofa in his office, paperwork splayed across the small coffee table.

“But are you sure you have the time? If not I can work something else out, maybe a transfer to Kyoto-“

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be alright, what’s more one student? Her underclassmen adore her, so I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic” Gojo interrupted, twirling his pen in his hand as he stared down at the class transfer forms. “So where do I sign?

Yaga sighed, contemplating the boards decision to even make this man a teacher in the first place, while showing him where to sign and cringing at his signature. “Are you 5 years old?”

“I’ll have you know my signature is very-“

A knock on the door cuts Gojo off, he scoffs and sinks back on the couch, signing a few more papers with a childish pout as Yaga gets up to answer the door.

“Oh, Hi Yaga-san, did you find someone to teach me yet?” Your sweet voice makes Gojo’s ears perk up slightly

“Yes, come in. Gojo-san is just finishing up the paperwork but I need you to sign a few things too”

You walk in and shoot Gojo a doe eyed smile, giving a curt wave that he returns with an unusual smile of his own. The lollipop you’ve been nursing in your mouth doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you swear you could feel his gaze for a split second under that blindfold.

“I need you to sign these papers that Gojo-san has” Yaga gestures to the coffee table, so you walk over and take a seat, a little close to Gojo but not close enough for it to be anything noticeable. But he’s more perceptive than he lets on. Still, he decides to ignore it. All you did was sit down after all.

You pick up the pen and lean forward to start signing, your hair gently falling over your face, and Gojo shoots a quick glance at you, taking in your glossed lips and the lollipop you’ve been swirling around in your mouth.

He always thought you were pretty, nothing more. So it wasn’t like he didn’t expect you to look pretty right now either.

But what he really didn’t expect is the feeling of a slight strain on uniform trousers when he saw you swirling your lollipop around.

What the fuck?

A sheer moment of panic washed over him when he felt his length throb, so in a daze he frantically grabbed some papers, putting them on his lap to hide the tent that was forming , whilst pretending like he gave two shits about whatever was written in them.

It’s only until he hears your voice again that he is snapped out of his frenzied train of thought,

“Thank you so much for taking me on, Gojo-sensei, I really appreciate it”

you stood in front of the table, giving him a shy smile and batting your eyelashes.

He straightens up, still covering his crotch with the papers and clearing his throat in an effort to compose himself, “don’t mention it, I’ll see you tomorrow then”

“Sounds great, Gojo-sensei” you waved goodbye to him and Yaga.

the way his name rolled off your tongue left a sugary sweet taste in his mouth, and for a second he wonders if it was your effortless charm or the 5 sugar cubes he downed in his tea just a little while ago.

He felt his trousers tighten again, and began to internally panic before Yaga snapped him out of it, “Ijichi-san will work out the schedules for both of you and send it out by tonight. Do let me know if something comes up and you can’t follow through”

Gojo gulps, thankful for the interruption because it’s impossible to stay even a little bit hard when Yaga speaks. But wait, why was he even hard in the first place? Surely it wasn’t cus of…

“Satoru..?” Yaga raised an eyebrow,

“Oh uh, yeah, sure thing” he stands up quickly, handing Yaga the signed papers and heads out quickly.

heading back to office he sits down, eyeing the sugar cubes that sat in a box next to his empty tea cup, and your voice lingers in his head again…

‘shit..when did she get so cute?’

He shakes the thought out of his head, telling himself it was probably just an accident, a funny little coincidence, maybe it’s because he neglected his morning wood when he woke up, ah yes that’s the one. It’s gotta be!

So he decided to call it a day, he was obviously not in his right mind today. he makes a motion of interlocking his fingers and clasping his hands together to warp into his bedroom, sighing in relief upon entering his personal space.

“Maybe I just need a nap” he takes off his jacket and slides off his blindfold, running his fingers through his snowy hair, before settling into his ridiculously expensive bed.

“Yeah…I definitely need a nap..” he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the lingering taste of sugar on his tongue.

————————————————

CHAPTER 2: RISING STEAM

The walk to your dorm room back from Yaga's office had you questioning some things. You could’ve sworn Gojo-sensei was acting a bit…. Off, you just couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Plopping down on your bed, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. The weather was getting warmer, but there was still a breeze in the air, so you decided to submit a request for a new summer uniform.

The school allowed everyone to rotate their uniforms and customize them as the seasons changed, and although you prefer practicality over fashion during combat, it wouldn't hurt to try and look a little cuter this summer. Your motive behind this was totally not the fact that you were Gojo's new student. you would never try to seduce your teacher or anything like that. duh.

You typed in your measurements, moving on to the design, your usual choice of a hooded-romper uniform came to mind, maybe you'd modify it to be sleeveless? maybe you'd make it a two piece suit? A different coloured collar?

As you began to visualize your options, an email notification came in, it was your updated schedule for the next 3 weeks from Ijichi, with Gojo CC'd into the email, it contained an average class and mission spread, nothing too exciting, but what caught your eye was that two of your upcoming missions were going to be supervised by Gojo. you weren't sure why but you sure as hell weren't going to protest..Impulsively filling out the rest of the tailoring form with a not-so-subtle smirk plastered on your face, you made sure to choose pickup instead of delivery so you could collect it after your mission tomorrow, and what you were going to pay towards the delivery fee can now go towards a new lipgloss…perfect.

You started on your bedtime routine and your mind wandered. This new schedule was giving you a prime opportunity to get to know Gojo-sensei better! Especially since he’ll be accompanying you on a couple of your missions. That's a nice thing to do right? find some common ground and have deep meaningful conversations with each other. Yes, that's exactly your goal here, nothing else.

Maybe you could pester your underclassmen about it when they're back from their mission, but for the time being you've put on your investigation cap and opened up a social media app while brushing your teeth.

He was ridiculously easy to find, given that all you had to do was search up his name and the user @Gojothestrongest1 came up, making you roll your eyes. there was however the obstacle of him having a private account which you definitely did not foresee.. he seemed like the kind of guy that would show off and flaunt any chance he got so this was definitely strange, and you wouldn’t be caught dead requesting to follow him online the same day he got appointed as your new teacher, that’s too weird right?

Maybe you need to sleep on it, you have an early start to your day and an evening mission tomorrow, plus you’ll be picking up your new uniform after, so you want to be well rested.

You spat out the toothpaste, observed the saliva-mixed white liquid in the sink, mind wandering back to Gojo-sensei for no particular reason, and you giggled.

Though what started as a simple everyday bedtime routine ended up manifesting into what you could only describe as some sort of self care ritual, cleanse, tone, moisturize, scrub your lips, shower and shave every inch of your body, apply body oil, this is totally your everyday routine.. Finally you slid into some comfy pajamas and headed back to bed to get some shut eye.

—-----------------------------

Birds chirping can be heard faintly through the sound of your sliding glass windows, morning dew settles on the glass and you wake up feeling like today is gonna be a good day. Though the morning is uneventful, you go about your school day like normal, classes in the morning and sparring in the afternoon, you did some hand to hand with Yuji which left you with a bruised left shoulder and hip hone, which he apologized very profusely for afterwards, even promising to buy you tickets for his wormo-man movie , but you feel okay enough to go on your mission this evening, it’s reported to be a grade 2 curse in the family section of a run-down fast food joint that likes to hide in the playground. Cute.

It’s in a dodgy part of town but your missions were always in…questionable places anyways. It’s unlikely that a curse would manifest at a nice botanical garden or an artsy modern museum, so roughing it out was something you grew accustomed to.

Car tires screech against the curb, window rolling down to show Ijichi, you wave at him and he he greets you back “good evening, the mission site isn’t too far away so let’s head there now” he smiles and unlocks the car for you to get in, so you sling your bag across your shoulder and climb inside.

“I’m sorry, I have a meeting with the principal later, I won’t be able to collect you after your mission is complete so I’ll send Nitta-san.” he semi-bows strangely while driving. Who bows while driving?

Perfect.

“Oh that’s okay, Ijichi-san, you don’t have to bother Nitta-san, I’ll figure it out by myself” you shoot him a smile through the rearview mirror.

“But i’m not allowed to leave the students alo-”

“I said don’t worry, Ijichi-san. I’ll be fine” you interrupt.

He sighs but ultimately agrees, muttering something under his breath about how he’s not paid enough for this. The rest of the car ride is silent apart from the radio news channel that Ijichi seems to be invested in.

Once he drops you off you head towards the dingy looking building, arms stretched upwards in a tired sigh to stretch your sore muscles, “let’s get this over with”

An eerie bell jingle fills the atmosphere when you swing the doors open, the place is surprisingly not dirty, just very run down. The painted children’s characters on the walls are chipped away leaving them with deformed faces, booth cushions are sunken in and appear lumpy, and the counter is littered with fallen stacks of paper menus and coupons. The curse was doing a solid job of hiding its presence so far, but you could see the faint aura surrounding its footprints that lead into the playground, so you follow them carefully, keeping your guard up as you pass through the door frame.

From the back the curse looks like a child, about 6-9 years old, cowering inside the ball pit with its freakishly humanoid hands wrapped around its knees. It had long matted hair that looked neglected, but when it turned around revealing its face to you, you audibly gagged.

Sunken eyes that resembled two voids on its face were housing what looked to be tens of bugs, it lacked a nose but had a vertical mouth with tight sutures holding the pale rotted flesh together that began to rip and ooze this black-ish blood as it gave a feeble attempt at speaking,

“M….m….ma..ma…………..mama………p-p…..pa….papa….?” it repeated, like a broken record. Great, an abandoned child curse with bug infested eyes, no way in hell were you gonna let that thing get within five feet of you. Jumping a few steps back, you pulled a vial out of your utility belt containing an amaranthine purple liquid, and discreetly unscrewed the top, using your technique to manipulate a thread like stream of it towards the curse, allowing it to trickle into the ballpit, slowly forming a puddle.. Drip, drop, drip, drop, drip, drop..

There was no hostility in the air, although you had a feeling in your gut telling you that any wrong move or sound could warrant an attack, so you didn’t want to risk it.

Still taking calculated steps back while trying to maintain a steady stream, you still when you hear a squeak as the back of your heel comes in contact with a toy basketball, “shit” you mutter under your breath, head shooting up immediately to see the curse standing up at its full height, but it stopped its yapping now. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Sweat trickles down the side of your face, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand with goosebumps on the surface of your skin, and before you have a chance to react the curse lets out a visceral scream, lunging towards you with pure killing intent.

Your feet move on their own, just barely getting you out of line for the hit, but the curse manages to land a momentary blow on your bruised left shoulder, you hiss in pain, clutching your shoulder and sprinting into the ballpit.

The curse is fast but you evade it’s attempt to strike you again, causing it to land in the ballpit with you, it tries to reach you but the balls hinder its movements slightly, allowing you to manipulate the small puddle you trickled into the ballpit earlier, you coated a couple of balls in the liquid, imbuing the liquid surrounding them with your cursed energy and shooting one at the curse.

One lands against its abdomen, making it brutally cough up more of that black-ish blood through its mouth sutures, another scream pierces your eardrums and this time the curse rips through the threads binding its mouth closed, and you utilize this prime opportunity to launch the second ball into that bloody abyss of a mouth, it hits the back of the curses’ throat and you manipulate the liquid once more to trickle down its throat.

The curse attempts to resist, coughing out spurts of the blood-mixed cyanide you just savagely forced down its throat, it comes out of the eyes, forcing the bugs to crawl out of the void and into the curses’ hair in an attempt to seek refuge. Its unsightly, sour bile rises in the back of your throat and you swallow it down as you watch the curse asphyxiate, falling onto the blood splattered balls with its hands around its neck, trying desperately to breathe.

You almost feel bad for it, you can’t stand to look at it die so slowly anymore so you pull out a small cursed knife tool you keep on you, and chuck it through its frontal lobe. Then the silence hits, the curse disintegrates into mere particles and you make a move to pick the knife up. At the corner of your eye you spot a small window, you tuck the knife back into your utility belt and walk in its direction.

Outside the window there’s a peculiar looking building, you squint your eyes to read the sign, and you sigh, it’s a school for orphaned children..Your heart pangs in your chest for a split second as you remember yourself as an orphaned child…No, this is no time for emotions…

“Fuck them kids..” the words escape your faded glossed lips in a quiet mumble, with no real bite behind them, as you pad out of the restaurant into the somber street. You’re tired, your shoulder feels even more sore now, so you postponed picking up your new uniform..fishing your phone out of your pocket you dial Gojo-sensei’s number.

“Hello?” He picks up on the second ring, he must have been on his phone.

“Hello, Gojo-sensei? Can you come pick me up? I just finished a mission and Ijichi is in a meeting” Your voice comes out shaky, unintentionally.

“Where are you? Send me the location, are you hurt?” His tone is soft, it makes you feel tingly inside..

“I’m fine, sensei.. My shoulder is just a bit bruised up..” you gulp, why do you feel nervous right now?

“Stay where you are, i’ll be there soon” he hangs up, making a beeline to his car, still in his casual clothes. He had been lounging at home when you called, his next mission wasn’t til tomorrow afternoon so he had some rare time off for himself, but he couldn’t help but feel worried for you now, he’ll have to scold Ijichi later for leaving you all alone..after all, he does care very deeply for his students.

The sound of his motor revving fills the parking lot of his snobby rich people apartment complex, and he goes out into the night, location displayed on the screen of his luxurious car that he seldom drives.

It only takes around 10 minutes for him to reach your street, it was a quiet night and few cars littered the roads. You perk up as soon as you see him park in front of you, you hear a small click signaling that he unlocked the door, and you climb into the passenger seat, it’s comfy and spacious, fit for a princess..

“Hey, how are you feeling? Was the mission okay?” he turns towards you and you make brief eye contact over his circular glasses.

Your eyes rake over his frame and his exposed arms in a short-sleeved white tee as they flex inadvertently while he makes a U-turn. He notices you zoning out but he doesn't pay it any mind.

“Oh, uh, I’m alright, Sensei..the mission was fine, nothing I can’t handle” your words come with a grin, which he returns with a genuine one himself,

“I never doubted you, well done” the sincerity in his words mixed with his slightly hushed voice burns a pit in your lower abdomen and you inhale deeply to calm yourself down. You thank him and stare out the window, trying to distract yourself, you’re too tired to converse too deeply, despite how badly you want to.

The sight of neon signs and street lights fills your heavy lidded eyes, and you’re on the verge of sleeping when the car comes to a halt at a red light, you scan your surroundings once more and your eyes widen when you spot a sign for a private onsen. Perfect.

“Gojo-sensei!” you turn to him, excited.

“Yeah?” he smiles at you.

“Can you take me to that onsen? I feel really beat up, I could use a dip in a hot spring..” you sigh, pressing your hand to your bruised shoulder.

He hums and makes a turn onto the street, parking his car in front of the building and taking out some crisp looking notes from his wallet to hand to you,

“For the entry fee, I can pick you up when you’re done” he smiles, you take the money and pocket it, that won’t do.

“Huh? What do you mean? You’re not coming in with me?” you feign innocent confusion, and you can almost hear the gears turn in his head when he asks “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you went with Megumi and Yuji a few weeks ago, right? So why don’t you wanna go with me?” your indifference while asking him a question like that has him sweating bullets in 20 degree weather.

“Isn’t that kind of…” he gulps “..weird?” and you frown,

“Why would it be weird? It’s the same as being in a public onsen. Don’t you wanna relax too, sensei?” you shrug oh-so-casually, and he sits there for a second, pondering it seems..

‘She’s right…why am I overthinking this?’ He straightens up and shoots you a coy smile, “sure, I guess I do.. Let’s go then”,

Suppressing your smirk was no easy task, especially after pulling that off, you expected him to downright refuse, so now you have to go along with a whim you weren’t even sure was gonna play out.. Deep breaths, in, out, in, out… The car door opening startles you, when did he get there? But you clear your throat and step out, walking alongside him to the entrance of the building. There are a few vending machines that stock green tea and water outside, and the reception area is small and dimly lit.

After the fees are paid you are both shown to your private onsen, it’s overlooking a rock garden with bamboo fencing sectioning it off from the other springs, next to the door was a small shower booth, along with a rack full of unscented body wash and thin white towels. You make the first move, shedding your bag and shoes and leaving them by the door,

“Can I shower first? I’m dying to get in that water” you pout dramatically and he chuckles, but it comes out tense,

“Sure, go ahead, I’ll turn around so you can change..” and he does so immediately, facing the wall which in turn also hides his slightly blushed cheeks. “ Stop it, she’s your student. This isn’t a big deal..” he internally scolds himself, he feels conflicted, part of him wants to back out and leave, but technically, there’s nothing inherently wrong about being in an onsen with your student, he’s done it before like you said…It’s not like he got a raging boner when he saw you with a lollipop yesterday…’wait, no, that was because I ignored my morning wood, yes! I’m not a pervert!’ but his train of thoughts is derailed when he hears you coming out of the shower, your damp footsteps echoing on the floor, then he hears your dulcet voice calling out to him,

“Your turn, Gojo-sensei!” you watch as his tall figure turns around, expression unreadable behind his pitch-black glasses but you can sense his gaze on your towel clad body. He clears his throat and you take that as a hint to turn away, giving him the same privacy he gave you, despite the overwhelming urge to see him undress..you dip your foot into the steamy water, then your leg, entering with a sigh as the warmth engulfs your body, ridding you of a majority of today’s fatigue. Smooth rocks press against your skin as you lean back, getting comfortable, but you wince when your left shoulder brushes against the rock wall, so you tilt your head the opposite way and begin to massage the soreness away.

Gojo exits the shower booth with a towel wrapped around his waist, skin damp from the water and steam and the first thing he sees is the side of your pretty figure, wincing in pain as you massage your bruised shoulder, your towel was thin, clinging to you like a second skin, and his eyes subconsciously trace over the curve of your brea-

He clears his throat, determined not to let any sort of twisted thoughts plague his mind right now. The sound makes you turn to his direction, and your jaw nearly drops. Gojo-sensei was standing a few feet away from you, abs and chest muscles glistening, skin dewy with steam and staring at you through his glasses whilst you’re both clad in thin white towels.. fuck, you have to play your cards right. So you feign innocence once more, smiling softly at him and beckoning for him to come in, spewing some bullshit about how great the water feels, when the only thing on your mind at this moment is how great he would feel.

He settles into the water and you go back to massaging your shoulder, and it's as if a lightbulb went off in your head at that very second, so you pretend to struggle, groaning in frustration because you just can’t massage yourself right… and he feels bad, you’re in pain and he’s just sitting there watching, what kind of sensei would he be if he just let you stay in your sorry state when you should be relaxing? So he turns off his brain for a moment and calls out to you,

“Do you..need a hand?” he asks softly, not wanting it to sound wrong, and you bite your cheek to suppress your smile again.

“Yeah, please, sensei..” you reply with a groan, turning so that your back faces him now, “it’s really sore..I can’t bear it..” you dramatize your words. And before you know it his large hands are on your skin, he’s close enough that you can hear his breath and it makes goosebumps rise under his fingertips but he doesn’t comment on it, instead focusing on relieving his poor little student of all her unbearable pain…

His hands are practiced, experienced, he presses into your sore spots with the right amount of pressure, making you whimper and breathe shakily, which he tries his absolute hardest to ignore, to tune out, you don’t sound cute to him right now, you’re just in pain…that’s right…he’s not on the verge of losing his composure if you keep whimpering so close to him while his hands press into your ridiculously soft skin…”Focus, Satoru..” his internal voice screams at him.

But your mmh’s and ahh’s are deliberate, and they’re working. However it’s getting increasingly difficult to deal with the situation between your legs. Your thighs have been pressed together for what feels like hours now, yearning for some sort of friction, some sort of relief , and all logic flies out the window when you decide to trace your fingers up your thigh, inching your towel up slowly and discreetly, and it’s when you slide a finger against your slit that you gasp, nearly squealing at how sticky and good it felt, this startles Gojo, prompting him to ask, “are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, sensei…just, don’t stop…the soreness is going away” you lie through frenzied breaths, all he did was gulp and continue his ministrations. He was probably under the impression that he was helping you out, which technically he was, just not in the way that he thinks right now..poor sensei..

Your middle finger teases your folds under the towel, dipping into your slit to gather the strings of wetness and coming back up to brush lightly against your neglected clit, the feeling of his skilled hands on your body, and your fingers on your most sensitive parts is erotic, you feel light-headed at the gentle stimulation you’re giving yourself, meanwhile Gojo seems like he has his head in the clouds, hands moving on their own as he tries to distract himself enough so that he doesn’t accidentally get aroused again. He hasn’t even noticed or commented on your obscene act, you were either really good at hiding it, or he was just too focused on not focusing on you that it just went unnoticed.

Either way, you’re winning, your pointer finger joins your middle in tracing feather-light circles around your clit, pinching it lightly between the tips which has you biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste lingers on your tongue as your fingers pick up the pace slightly, alternating between figure eight’s and circles, going down to tease at your entrance, you’re floating, before you knew it the familiar knot twists in your stomach and suppressing your moans is starting to hurt. Your fingers lose their rhythm, no longer tracing practiced shapes, as you desperately fight to push yourself to that edge, in the most quiet way possible.

Euphoria washes over you in waves, starting from your core and spreading down into your toes, you’re breathing so heavily you could fill up an air mattress, rubbing lightly at your now swollen nub as you ride out, possibly, the most silent and scandalous orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Are you..” he coughs “are you okay? You’re uh…breathing really heavy” his voice is hoarse, he sounds…Troubled.

“Y-yeah…thank you, Gojo-sensei…that was a great..massage..” you don’t mean to pause before saying massage, but he picks up on it, his hands leave your skin and you suddenly feel cold, despite the steam surrounding your body,

“We should probably um, leave…now.” he sounds dazy, something’s definitely up with him but he’s not saying, you didn’t feel his eyes on you while you were… helping yourself out ..so it can’t be that.

He stands up, clutching his towel around his waist and steps out of the water, frantically grabbing his clothes, muttering something about needing the restroom and to meet him at the car, and he’s gone like the wind.. You shrug, feeling satisfied with what just happened so you step out of the water too, changing back into your uniform and loitering outside while you wait for Gojo-sensei, scrolling through some random social media feed..

—---------------------------------

Gojo all but breaks the restroom door down, clawing his way into a stall with the most painful boner he’s had since his late teens, he slams a fist into the wall and it cracks under his knuckles, “what the fuck just happened? Was she fucking touching herself?” The truth is, he noticed it right away, from the moment you pressed your pretty round thighs together a little too hard, he has the fucking six eyes, of course he noticed. But he ignored it, like a good sensei would, maybe he was just projecting his perverse inner thoughts onto you, his sweet innocent student, as delicate as a flower…you’d never do something that corrupt..But you did…you did? You touched yourself that way while he was massaging your shoulder and yet he still ignored it…why? He doesn’t know.

Maybe part of him wants to give you the benefit of the doubt here, maybe you were just…itchy? Yeah, that’s reasonable. Way more reasonable than his sweet doe eyed student cumming while he massaged her. There's no way. There's no way. You would never…you were too innocent..too sweet..he’s just a pervert. Fuck, he’s a pervert.

Even if you truly didn’t do that, the mere thought of it had him rock hard in the palm of his hand, fisting his leaky red tip with his forehead pressed against the cold tile of the wall, in a measly attempt to ground himself. “Stop it, Satoru…Fuck..” his internal voice blaring at him like an alarm, red and loud, telling him his thoughts are reducing him into a low-life pervy scum that shouldn’t be allowed within twenty feet of a woman.

He shouldn’t think this way, he shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t act this way, he’s the strongest fucking sorcerer, why is he in a single restroom stall fantasizing about his students’ warm, wet pussy right now? She didn’t even do anything, he’s the pervert here. It’s his fault for thinking of her that way. He should feel horrible, he should feel ashamed.

He’s so fucked..

He tucks his still-hard cock into his boxers, throwing the rest of his clothes on and taking deep breaths as he walks to where the car was parked. If there’s one thing Gojo Satoru knows how to do, it’s mask how he’s feeling, so he plasters on his most nonchalant smile, opening the car door for you and swallowing the saliva he didn’t know had built up in his throat. The drive back was silent, there was an unspoken tension so thick you could barely hear the faint music of his playlist over it, before you know it you’re in front of the dorm building in Jujutsu High.

You turn to Gojo-sensei and he smiles at you, bidding you goodnight and you lean in and give him a slight side hug, which makes his sleepy eyes shoot open, you whisper in his ear, “Goodnight, Gojo-sensei…see you tomorrow..”, and then you’re gone, walking off in the distance to your room, and he buries his face in palms, “you’re making this a problem, she was just saying goodnight…what’s gotten into you, Satoru?” he shakes his head at his thoughts, driving back home in total silence, not in the mood for music.

You go about your routine as normal, cheeks blushed and body on fire, you’re replying to a text from Maki when a notification rolls in..

“@Gojothestrongest1 has requested to follow you”

——————————————————

CHAPTER 3: MASQUERADE

‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god? Gojo-sensei requested to follow me? Right after what just happened at the onsen?’ your thoughts blare at you like a broken car horn, why is he doing it NOW of all times?

Could it be that he felt something for you? He did offer to massage you after all..but the car ride said otherwise.. He felt tense.

This is completely normal right? The rest of the students follow him so this isn’t a big deal. But if you accept it now you’ll seem desperate, which of course you are, but you can’t make it that obvious. You have to keep him on his toes, he followed you, so maybe you should wait a day or two.

Your phone bounces on the edge of the bed where you throw it, staring up at the ceiling with a heat in your cheeks that matches the one burning in your core, this means you have a chance right?

He could have refused your onsen offer, maybe he didn’t give it much thought, but he still could have taken you to any other one, there were a few in the area that were separated by gender, and he knows that. So surely he wants you a little bit right?

The thought of him potentially wanting you the same way you want him has you kicking your feet up, almost like you have a little school girl crush. Then it hits you. You are a school girl. You do have a crush. A big one at that. Maybe you’re too far in your own delusions right now, fantasizing about a man 10 years older than you, but something in your gut tells you to grab your running shoes and chase those delusions at full speed.

It’s the weekend tomorrow so you’ll have plenty of time to delude yourself into thinking he’s into you, so you hug your pillow and drift away for the night.

—-----------------------------

“Hey- ouch! That hurts!” you exclaim, bringing your hand down to massage your poor inner thigh that is currently being stretched way past it’s limit

“Your combat has been shit lately, so shut up and stretch” Maki rolls her eyes pushing further down on your shoulders so you sink deeper into the splits “It’s not even that bad. Baby”

“Urgh, how nice of you to call your senpai that while t-torturing her,” you groan in response, “But I think you’re getting me mixed up with your overseas boyfr- OUCH!” She cuts you off with a smack on the head.

“First of all, I wasn’t calling you a pet name, I was calling you a baby. It was an insult, and second, he’s not my boyfriend” she scoffs, plopping down on her own yoga mat next to yours, giving a slight chuckle when she sees your pained expression as you maneuver your way out of the hellish stretch to a more normal sitting position.

“Aw, long distance not working out?” you tease, watching her cheeks grow red which she tries to mask with a hand on her face and furrowed eyebrows, ‘cute’ You think to yourself, as you take a sip from your water bottle, nearly choking when she points her middle finger at you. “That’s no way to treat your elders, you know” you smirk.

“Maybe if said elder wasn’t a bitch, I would respect her more” she jabs, stifling a laugh when you exaggerate your gasp, putting a show of putting your hand on your heart to show how offended you are.

“Damn, kids these days” you shake your head, laying back down on the silicone on your mat and staring up at the crows perched on top of the tree you’re using for shade.

“Oh shut up” she laughs, grabbing her phone and scrolling through her socials, she visibly cringes all of a sudden and sighs, “That blindfolded idiot doesn’t know how to post just one picture does he?”, which catches your attention.

“What was that?” you turn your head to the side to look at her, to which she answers

“Just Satoru making it everyone’s problem that he can’t decide on a suit. I swear whoever put this old man on social media is gonna have to pa- hey!” She’s cut off by you lunging for her phone, grabbing hold of the device to feast your eyes on the sight that is Gojo Satoru’s instagram story of him at an expensive looking suit shop.

You click through what feels like over fifty mirror selfies of him with various suits on, you can’t see his face but you can see the side of his sharp jawline and his mess of white hair, ‘he must not be wearing his blindfold because it looks softer than usual, fuck. He looks good.’

“Um, hello? What was that about?” Maki questions, taken aback at your sudden brashness.

“Do you know where he’s going?” You ignore her and question back eagerly, looking up at her with a devious sparkle in your eyes that she’s never seen before.

“Uhh, some masquerade ball at this hotel in Roppongi, apparently Nanami had bought himself a ticket a while back but he can’t go anymore so he gave it to Satoru. He’s been blabbing all week about he’s gonna come back as a ‘Refined gentleman’ and how he’ll ‘Give Nanami a run for his money’ from it” She explains, making finger quotes while trying not to visibly cringe, “Why do you wanna know anyways?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, no reason” You toss her phone back to her, averting her suspicious gaze as you stand back up and begin to roll your yoga mat up.

“You’re going already? It’s barely noon” Her eyebrow raises again, trying to spot an ounce of bullshit in your words, you simply shrug and pick your things up, smiling down at her to say “I have a date, gotta go get ready, though you wouldn’t know about that 'cus your love life is like your cursed energy” you poke your tongue out at her and she laughs in disbelief.

“You really are a bitch!” She shouts at you while you walk back to the dorms.

“Love you toooooo!” You shout back, grateful you were able to evade her suspicions, you think.

—-----------------------------

You practically run out the door the second you change out of your sweaty active wear, not bothering to hop in the shower, you’ll do it later anyways. Jujutsu high was a fair distance away from the city center so that gives you plenty of time to phone up some hotels in Roppongi to ask about this alleged masquerade ball.

You have a few stops left on the bus before you get to the shopping district, It was one you frequented so you know the shops well, you dial the next hotel on the list while staring out the window, sighing as a knot twist in your stomach, 'this is probably futile, I’ve called so many already..'

Mentally preparing yourself for yet another fail, when you ask about the ball, but to your surprise the person on the other end of the phone answers,

“Yes we are hosting an anonymous masquerade ball tonight from 7, Tickets can be purchased for the drinks bar but the ball itself is free to attend!”

'Finally! Wait..did he say'..” Anonymous?” you question, to which the worker explains that one of the rules was to refrain from sharing any personal information about oneself, including names. Interesting, must explain the whole mask thing.

The bus comes to a stop and you hop off, striding down the busy streets to this dress shop you heard Nobara rave about a few weeks ago, it was fancy, way more than you could afford right now, but you’re already making unwise decisions, so will it really hurt to add financial ones to the list?

Probably, but all you can really think of now is how to dress to attract, you're no stranger to balls, you’ve attended a handful with your parents as a child, but that was before the… Nope. Not today.

Clearing your throat, you step into the shop, eyeing the racks of couture dresses and shoes to match, you feel the materials, occasionally pulling one off the rails and holding it to your body in the mirror to contemplate,

“Can I help you with something, miss?” A saleswoman calls out to you, waving politely from behind you, you turn around to speak,

“Oh, I’m actually going to a ball tonight, a masquerade.. Do you happen to have any masks here?” You explain.

“You’re in the right place! Masks and accessories are on the floor above, would you like me to lead you there?” She smiles, and you nod, eager to see the options as it all finally starts to come together in your head, you’re that much closer..

You follow her with a nervous smile, still holding on to that last dress you pulled off the rail, she takes you up the elevator, leading you to a lavish looking accessory room. You’re browsing the seemingly endless options of masks and jewellery when she suddenly cuts in,

“Um, I couldn’t help but notice, the dress you picked out is a dark navy..Are you a fan of the color blue?” She questions, you look down at the silk dress draped over your arm. Blue, huh?

“I guess you could say so? I mostly picked this out for the shape and the material, why do you ask?” You smile back, curious to hear what she has to say.

“Well..If you’re set on that option, I would suggest that you pair it with something like this..” She approaches with a black box in her hands, inside it is a Venetian style mask, decked with silver trimmings and crystals, in a piercing shade of blue…a very familiar piercing shade of blue..

You can’t help the chuckle that leaves your mouth in disbelief, this is golden , what are the odds?

“I’ll take it. And the dress. And the matching pumps.” You grin, despite the ridiculous amount of money you’ll have to cough up, you can’t miss out on this.

The saleswoman triumphantly guides you to the cash register after grabbing your size in the dress and heels. You try to seem nonchalant when she rings you up, but you can practically hear the faint screams of your bank account when you swipe your card to pay. No wonder Nobara only shops with Gojo’s Card..

—-----------------------------

“Champagne?” A server approaches with a tray,

“Oh, No thank you” You politely decline, you’ve been here for an hour already and there’s no sign of Gojo-sensei anywhere.. It's starting to get busier by the minute, but you aren’t giving up now, not after spending an ungodly amount of money and time getting ready. A few attendants compliment you, more notably, your mask, you opted for a subtle makeup look, focusing on your eyes to make them prominent under the mask.

Nobody can tell who you are even if they try, the mask covers the top half of your face, and your hair is done up rather than being worn down. You look different. Hopefully different enough to the point where a certain white haired man won’t recognise you.

Speaking of white hair, your heart skips out of your chest when you see a flash of it towering over the countless heads in the crowd. He’s here. Gulping, you decide to follow as he makes his way to the bar, he chats with the bartender for a minute, you can’t hear him over the music but you can finally see him properly.

Slicked back hair, a black and gold phantom mask, and an all black suit and tie. Holy fuck, he looks alluring.

You’re too engrossed in his ridiculously attractive face to notice the flock of women that begin to surround him, all too nervous to make the first move, yet for some reason he pays them no mind, simply opting to lean against the bar and take large sips of his overly fruity cocktail while crowd watching. He finishes his drink relatively fast, motioning for the bartender to make him another, and you decide to approach him.

His eyes land on you the second you infiltrate the busy bar area, breath hitching when he realises you’re about to talk to him. Truth is, he spotted you moments after he walked in, your cursed energy was practically seeping out from how nervous you are. He thought it may be a coincidence until you start following him, and now approaching him, before he has time to collect his thoughts properly, you’re draping yourself over the counter, arms crossing over it as you peer up at him through your blue mask and long eyelashes.

He glances down at you from the side, sipping on his cocktail and masking his nerves with a trademark smirk, “Hm? What have we here? Can I help you, pretty girl?” He tries not to stare down the curve of your breasts where the dress dips, but from where he towers over you it’s inevitable…

“Maybe, I just happened to spot a handsome stranger all by himself so I thought I’d keep him company” You smirk back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, making him chuckle. ‘Stranger, huh?’ He thinks.

“I’m honoured” He grins, taking yet another large sip of his cocktail, “Any reason you chose me out of all the men here?” his eyebrow rises with the question.

“Why do you ask?” You question back, to which he lightly sighs, ditching the cocktail straw and chugging the rest of the tall glass in one go.

“Hm, I don’t know, I just thought I seemed a little old for you..” He answers, silently praying you’ll give up your flirtatious antics and move on to the next man. But all you do is bat your eyelashes at him with an innocent smile before saying,

“Not that I know how old you are, but..” You stand on you tip toes, leaning over his shoulder to whisper in his ear “What if I like it that way?”

You don’t miss the way his grip on the counter tightens, splintering the wood under his nails, and for a moment you linger, breathing against the shell of his ear, waiting for him to break the silence but he doesn’t.

His mind runs a mile a minute, he shouldn’t have had any to drink, 'fuck, i’m a lightweight'.

The mix of alcohol and conflicting emotions he’s feeling for you since the night before at the onsen is stirring his head up.

Surely you know it’s him, right? But why would you knowingly approach your teacher and say that? No. You would never. If you knew it was him, you would have said so. Maybe he’s reading too deep into this. He was wearing a mask after all.

Before he has the chance to respond, you brush your lips against his earlobe, leaving a faint lipstick stain as you whisper once more, “meet me in the bathrooms outside the main hall”, Disappearing into the crowds with a pounding in your chest, equal to the one in his pants right now.

'So she doesn’t know. She thinks I'm just some stranger. Why does she want me to meet her there? Wait, don’t be stupid, Satoru. You know exactly why. Fuck. Should I do it? What would your reaction be if you found out you just flirted with your teacher? You would be mortified…right…?'

He sighs deeply, staring at the door to the bathrooms, how the fuck did he even get here?

'Should I go in? I mean, I’m already here. Might as well, right? Maybe she just wants to talk..yeah..talk..' He tries to reason with himself.

With shaky hands, he pushes the door open, stepping in to find you sitting on the sink counter, patiently tapping your nails on the ceramic. The side slit in your dress fell to the side, exposing your crossed legs to him. Your head shoots towards the door and you smile, turning your body slightly to face the door,

“You came” You jump off the sink to stand at your full height, waiting patiently for his next move with a glint in your eyes behind the mask.

He’s trying, he’s really trying to hold himself back, but the alcohol stirring his head up, and the way you’re looking at him like you’re famished, and the fact that you apparently don’t know that it’s him.. He’s seconds away from breaking.

'She’ll never know, right? Fuck’

He’d be a horrible person for doing this, but he wants you so badly right now. If it wasn’t for the liquid courage he would have never found himself here in the first place.

Click, clack, your heels echo as you make your way towards him, reaching one arm behind his back to lock the door and the other arm around his neck, pulling him inches away from your face, your heart is racing, you feel like you’re about to faint if he doesn’t kiss you right now.

Staring into his eyes, your lip quirks up into a half smirk to say “So..?” in a challenging tone, and he breathes in sharply through his nose.

'She’ll never know, right?.'

'Fuck it.'

His lips smash against your own in desperation, you move in tandem with him as he brings his hands down to your waist and backs you up to the sink again. The edge pokes at your lower back and you squeal when he hoists you up with no effort to sit you down, never once separating his lips from yours.

Your bodies are on fire, the rush you both have from knowing how wrong it is to be doing this is only serving to amplify the lust and attraction, you moan into his mouth and he groans, pulling back and breathing so heavily that you start to wonder, 'is he okay?'

Though your mind only falters for a split second, as his lips are back on yours in an instant, licking your bottom lip 'til you grant him access, he slips his tongue into your mouth and just when it’s starting to get heated, he pulls away, you see a look of uncertainty flash across his face and he drops his head down to kiss at your jaw instead,

His lips trail down the side of your jaw down to your neck, he bites at your sweet spot, and your mind blanks when he sucks at it lightly and runs his tongue across it, you can’t help the moans that escape your lips. His breath stutters when he hears your pretty voice, hands trailing down the sides of your waist, sliding to your lower back, and grazing the curve of your ass lightly, he brings his lips closer to yours again, brushing against them as you pant against him.

“Please, just touch me already..” you plead, voice laced with a desperation he just can’t deny right now.

So he slots himself between your legs, brushing his hands up and down the tops of your thighs, slowly opening your legs up for him and you shudder when the cool air hits your most sensitive parts. Taking one of his hands and cupping your heat, he expects to find the damp fabric of your panties, but is instead met with the slick dripping off your bare pussy, he groans in surprise, length twitching in his suit trousers when he feels you hot and wet against his palm,

“Shit, no panties huh?” He smirks, surprising himself with how into this he is when says, “Kind of feels like you planned this, pretty girl”. You whimper in response, grinding your hips into his hand and he grabs your hip to stop you.

“Use your words. What do you want, hm?” He asks, biting at your neck again.

Your mind is so hazy you can barely form a sentence, still in disbelief that you’re actually here right now, spreading your legs for none other than Gojo-Sensei, and he doesn’t even know it's you.

Through frenzied breaths you manage to choke out, “F-fingers..I want your fingers..please..” And he bites his lip so hard he starts to taste metal. 'So polite, so cute and needy, you don’t even know who you’re begging right now..This is so fucked, but i’m already here. Might as well finish what I started right?'

A long finger teases your folds, dipping into your heat for a split second and pulling back out to trace feather light circles over your clit.

You’re dying at this point, head tipping down to nuzzle into the crook of his neck as you whine, begging “please, please, do something..” you shudder, and he rubs a hand along your back soothingly.

“Shh, I got you, baby.. Only ‘cus you asked so nicely..” He coos, sliding his middle finger inside you to the base of his knuckle, and you gasp, his fingers are so much bigger than yours, and that’s only one..

He starts to slide it out slowly, pushing it back in with a curl to prod at that spongy spot that has you gripping his bicep and digging your nails into it, “Right there?” He adds another finger, curling them up at your G-spot again, and you nod frantically, moaning so sweetly for him while he stretches your impossibly tight cunt.

For a short while, it drowns out any stray thoughts about morals or about this being wrong.. All he cares about right now is your sweet little pussy, dripping all over his fingers and squeezing him for dear life. 'You’ll need way more prep if you’re going to take my cock..Fuck, if you’re this tight around my fingers then..'

His groans and your moans fill the atmosphere, along with the lewd squelching of your arousal as he finger fucks you, hard. He brings his other hand forward to slide your dress straps down, freeing your breasts, he’s quick to bring his head down, placing open mouthed kisses all over and in the valley between them, he then latches his lips onto one of your nipples, peering up at you through his phantom mask, never letting up his pace with his fingers.

Your eyes meet and he bites down lightly, causing you to arch your back and furrow your brows, “Fuck, fuck, fuck… ”, and he chuckles when he feels you start to clamp down on his fingers,

“Sensitive? Are you close, baby?” He whispers, tweaking your other nipple with his fingers, and you nod again, throwing your head back against the sink mirror as you near your release, and he knows it, he feels it.

“Cum for me, pretty girl, go on, make a mess for me”, He breathes against your mouth, just barely brushing his lips against yours but not kissing them, and your coil snaps, you moan loudly as you come down from your high, thighs shaking uncontrollably, this is your first orgasm that wasn’t self induced. And it was given to you by Gojo-Sensei..Your mind feels so foggy..

His fingers slow their pace, helping you ride it out as he feels your cum coat his fingers, and he wants to do it again, he wants, no, he needs to feel you cum again, but on his cock this time..

In the blink of an eye he grabs your legs and pulls you forward, you yelp when you feel your ass hang off the sink, but he grabs you and wraps your legs around his waist, pressing the large tent in his pants into your still throbbing cunt, and it feels so big..

You’re still recovering from your orgasm when he grinds into you, making your body shake, and bringing his lips to your ear to whisper “Think you can take my cock now, baby? Think that little pussy is ready for me?” He grinds into you again, making your eyes roll back.

“B-but..” You hesitate, and he looks you in the eye,

“But what..?” He raises an eyebrow at you, unsure of what could possibly come out of your mouth next..

“I’m…a virgin..” You confess, peering up at him through your mask, as you see him freeze, and your stomach drops. ‘Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that.’

“A…Virgin..” He repeats, slowly, trying to process the information. ‘She’s…a virgin. She’s a virgin. Wait. Of course she’s a fucking a virgin. She’s so innocent. She’s my student. Oh god. She’s my fucking student. What have I done? She doesn’t even know it’s me. Fuck. Yep, the alcohol just wore off. This is too far. I went too far.’

He slowly sets your legs down to the floor, taking a step back with a deep breath, ‘calm down, Satoru, just make an excuse to leave now, and freak out about it at home.’

Pulling his phone out and enacting an emergency, he dramatically gasps at his screen, placing a hand on his cheek as he fakes reading a supposedly very important text message,

“Ahhh, shit, so sorry sweetheart, I really have to go, I uh.. My son's dog, he’s really sick! Throwing up all over the house, it’s really bad..” He inches closer to the door,

“We might need to put him down! Poor thing, practically waiting to be put out of his misery now. I’ll have to console my son and everything..You know how it is! Thanks for understanding! Take care!” He tries to pull the door open, but it’s locked, “Shit” he mutters under his breath, turning the lock as quickly as he can and all but lunging out the door to run to his car where he can panic in peace.

No fucking way.

You’re left dumbfounded, staring at the door with trembling thighs and a slightly dropped jaw. He did not just do that. You try not to take it personally, I mean, he literally didn’t know it was you, but wow, that was…wow..

Your lip starts to tremble slightly as thoughts flood your mind, ‘why didn’t he wanna fuck me?! Is it because I'm a virgin? Fuck, I shouldn’t have told him..’ You rip your mask off, tossing it away on the floor, and all but ripping your hair out of your up-do. What if this was your only chance with him and you just blew it?

Walking out of the bathroom, you feel tears staining your cheek and your mascara run but you don’t care in the slightest. Avoiding any and all reflective objects so as to not witness the hot mess you are right now.

One chance. You had one chance to actually fuck the man of your dreams and you blew it. You were so close, he fingered you, he fucking fingered you and then you fumbled. Fuck, you hate yourself.

Not even thinking twice, you make your way out of the main hall, trudging down the parking lot onto the street and into the nearest bar. Alcohol will help. Alcohol always helps.

---------------------------

A shot turns into two, then to three, then to who knows how many, you lost count, but you’re drinking! Who doesn’t love to drink? Not you, you fucking love it. Drinking makes the feelings go away!

“Excuse moi! Can I haveee just oneeeeeee more shot of Tenquila? Pleaseeeeeee?” You slur your words to the poor bartender who looks at you with concern.

“I think you’ve had enough te-quila miss. Ten shots to be exact. Do you have anyone that can take you home?” He questions, hoping you would say yes.

“Boooooo! I still wanna drink though!” You frown, making a thumbs down gesture at the bartender who is definitely not getting paid enough to deal with this.

“Miss, either you call someone or we’ll call you a cab, but I’m kicking you out. For your own good.” He says sternly, instantly regretting it when he sees your eyes well up with tears.

“FINE!” You sniffle, fishing your phone out of your purse, and dialling the first person that comes to mind..

Though your little drunk self doesn’t seem to notice, or care, that she hears a phone ring behind her, at the exact moment she is making the call, which picks up in an instant anyways. You don’t give him a chance to answer before you shout through the speaker,

“GOJO-SENSEI…CAN YOU COME PICK ME UP? I’M B-BEING KICKED O-OUT…F-FROM A BAR..” You shout, in between sniffles and sobs, throwing your head down on the bar counter and closing your eyes.

A minute or so passes but it feels like ten, because when you lift your head up, Gojo sensei is paying your bill and leaning forward to drape your wobbly arms around his shoulders.

“Sensei! Y-you came! That was fast!” You exclaim, hiccuping mid sentence as you stare at his face, his hair is up and he has his blindfold on now, you throw your head on his chest as he picks you up from the bar chair, bridal style.

“Yeah, of course I came, darling, Let’s get you home, okay?” He swallows the lump in his throat, still beating himself up about what happened earlier. He took advantage of you and you didn’t even know, and here you are, thinking of him first to call for help.

The guilt hits him hard when you nuzzle into his neck during the walk to the car, drunkenly muttering something about how he makes you feel so safe. You’re so pure and wholesome. He’s just disgusting.

But still, he can't help the small smile that creeps up on his lips every time he glances over at you, passed out in the back seat on the way back to the dorms. He’ll make it up to you, he’ll atone, in his own way.

How you didn’t notice him following you down the street and into the bar to keep an eye on you was beyond him. He must have really upset you when he left so suddenly, but it was the right thing to do.

He’ll have to teach you more about noticing your surroundings, what if you had been stalked by someone, or ambushed by a curse in your vulnerable state? He sighs while carrying you into your room, setting you down on your bed as slowly as he can to avoid waking you.

Your heels clack on the ground where he disposes of them, before pulling the covers over your body. For a second, he stares down at you, taking off his blindfold to really look at you. Runny mascara, disheveled hair, and a crease between your brows as you drift off into dreamland.

He’s unsure of what he feels at this moment. Guilt? Lust? Confusion? All the above?

A light snore snaps him out of his thoughts. Right, he should let you sleep, after all that happened, this is the least he can do..

“Goodnight, pretty girl” He bites the inside of his cheek, as he leaves your room, sighing as he teleports into his own.

Stripping off his clothes, he lays his head on the pillow, arms crossed over his chest as he stares into the ceiling, knowing at least one thing for sure;

He’s not getting any sleep tonight.

————————————————

Chapter 4: CRUSH?

Nausea, a thrumming headache, and bile rising in the back of your throat are what greet you the second you open your eyes. Clearly last night went great for you, though your hazy mind is telling of the fact that you will have no recollection of it for a while.

It’s not exactly pleasant, spending the first portion of your morning hunched over the toilet bowl, spilling your guts (and regrets) from the night before, but in a way it’s like you’re letting it all go, flushing it down the drain where it belongs so you can pretend it never happened and peacefully move on.

Which, speaking of what happened, what the fuck did you even do last night? Do you even wanna know? Probably not. But judging by the fact that you went out drinking and ended up in your own bed, clearly nothing happened with Gojo-sensei.

You’ll take this failed attempt with a grain of salt, there’s always more chances after all, or at least those are the bullshit words you’re spewing at yourself now to make you feel better.

Accepting that fact, you spend the rest of your morning fighting through the urge to go back to sleep while you get ready for your mission later today. You’re supposed to be joining Yuji and Nanami to gather more leads on the patchface curse, but Gojo will be taking you there, and regrouping with you all at the end of the day.

All the more reason to get dolled up, aside from masking the fact that you look and feel like a walking corpse, courtesy of your lovely hangover of course. Cherry lip gloss, fake eyelashes, and a bow in your hair are enough to do the trick, you reckon.

You decide to grab a quick bite before heading over to the main building to meet Gojo. You’ll need the energy to prepare for whatever antics you have in store for this poor man today. On your way to the cafeteria, you get a message informing you that your new uniform is ready for pick-up today. Perfect, Gojo-sensei can drop you off.

—------------------------

“Morning, Sensei!” You shout, walking across the courtyard to his car and he waves back in your direction, leaning against the hood and scrolling on his phone, he immediately stuffs it into his pocket when he sees you and straightens up.

“You’re early, that eager to work with Yuji again?” He smiles, remembering how well your previous missions with the pink haired boy all went. He opens the car door for you to climb in.

“Maybe i’m just eager to see you” You smile, buckling yourself in while he climbs in next to you, doing the same, though his hands fumble with the buckle slightly when you give your reply. He quickly catches himself, coughing and fixing his rearview mirror as he shifts the topic, a little more tensely,

“Did you eat breakfast?” He asks.

“Oh, yeah I did, actually..do you mind taking me somewhere?” You ask back, tilting your head and looking at his side profile. He opted for his blindfold today, his hair sticking up, accentuating his side profile. His sharp jaw and long nose make him look nothing short of a sculpture, something someone spent hours of their time carving and shaping into absolute perfection. He licks his lips in contemplation, the thin layer of saliva casts a small sheen on them, and you can’t help but lick your lips back at the thought of how they would feel on top of yours, it invades your mind, the same way the artificial cherry of your gloss invades your mouth, a taste you’re sure a certain somebody with a sweet tooth would love.

You’re positive you’re wearing these emotions on your sleeve, at least it’s enough for him to sense it, since he shifts his attention back to the road, his smile falling a little at how intensely you’re staring, a sort of hunger present behind those wispy lashes of yours, not bold enough to comment on it, but it subtle enough for a man as perceptive as himself to pick up on.

“What-” He clears his throat “Where do you want to go? I don’t mind if it’s on the way.”

“The tailors” You reply, reaching into your bag and pulling out a lollipop, the rustling grabs his attention and he looks over.

“The tailors? You got a new uniform?” He asks, typing in the location to the tailors on his phone, and smiling at you.

“Mhm, everyone’s switching to summer uniforms lately. Thought I was due for an upgrade” You explain, extending your lollipop to him with a small tilt to your head, and he shakes his in response, thanking you anyways for the offer, you shrug and pop the plastic off, wrapping your lips around the candy with a satisfied hum, muttering a soft “your loss” as the sugar melts on your tongue.

It really is the simple things in life that fill you with joy, like the taste of artificial fruits, and the blush your sensei is so obviously trying to hide while he forces himself to focus on the road rather than your sweet little hums as you suck, and suck, and suck on the sugary treat, a little more feverishly than a normal person might. 'You must really love candy', he thinks. Swallowing down the saliva he didn’t know gathered in his throat.

You decide to bite some more, not sure if you can chew it all just yet, but still biting for the thrill of it.

“You sure you don’t want some? I know you have a sweet tooth like me” You pout, taking the sucker out of your mouth with an audible pop, holding it up to his face, and a groan dies in his throat. This is basically indirect kissing, right? Or is he overthinking this? Technically, he already kissed you once before, even though you didn’t know it was him, and you ended up getting trashed hours later and passed out in the back of his car.

He must have gotten lost in thought for a while because you start waving it around, pouting as you say “Come on, share with me! It’s too big for me to suck on all by myself” Suppressing your smirk at the last line as you enunciate each word with a soft whine.

He stiffens a little, mind going a hundred miles a minute as he tries not to focus on how every word you say somehow translates into an innuendo in his sick mind. There’s nothing inherently wrong with what you said, or what you’re offering.

He’s the weird one here. You’re just dying to share this lollipop with him. Who is he to refuse, especially when you’re being so kind to offer it twice. 'What’s sharing a piece of candy with your student, right?' he tells himself.

He opens his mouth, and you giggle, plopping your lollipop onto his tongue, his lips wrap around the candy and his breath hitches slightly, the sucker had your saliva all over it, he can taste you faintly in between the notes of sugar and fruit, and although light, it still overpowers the sweetness of the candy to him, all he can taste is you, not the same way he did a few moons ago at the ball, but still tasting you nonetheless. And just as he remembers, you’re sweeter than any candy. He unintentionally sucks harder, hoping to sap every last drop you left on there. If he can’t kiss you the way he wants again, he’ll savor any taste of you he can get.

‘This is messed up’ He thinks. How his tongue swirls around the candy languidly, savoring the taste. To the external eye, he’s just nursing a lollipop. And just as he thought, when he turns his attention back to you, you’re zoned out, tapping your prettily manicured nails atop his window. Unaware that his pervy self is concealing a semi because you're sweet enough to share a candy with him.

‘Damn, I need to get laid soon..’ He shakes his head, deeming that the case for his teen-like hormonal surge as of late. He doesn’t need you, he can’t need you, he just needs someone to relieve him of his tension. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t escape the mental image of you with your dress tugged down your pretty tits, head thrown back in ecstasy as you moan and gush all over his fing-

“Your destination is on the right!” The GPS announces, snapping him out of his lewd train of thought. With a shaky sigh, he pulls into the parking spot.

“I need to make a call, so you go ahead.” He lies through his teeth, leaning forward to hide the growing tent between his legs. Maybe he should ask for a looser pair of pants while he’s here..

“Hm, okay, I’ll be quick, but first-” You smile, daringly leaning over to place a quick peck on his cheek and to your surprise, he lets you, dropping his infinity barrier a second before your sticky plump lips meet the softness of his cheek. He freezes and you take the chance to slip the lollipop out of his mouth, popping it into your own with a smirk, leaving the car before he even has a chance to speak. He sits there for a moment, processing what just happened. It was just a sweet gesture right? No ill intentions behind it..Right?

Your lipgloss stains his cheek, and he brings a hand up to his face, brushing over the pigment, transferring the residue to his thumb. He observes the soft sheen, slightly red with specks of iridescence. It glimmers under the sunlight that seeps in through the cracks in the clouds. It’s pretty, he thinks, the subtlety of the color perfectly compliments a sweetheart such as yourself. It’s a downright shame the thoughts that plague his mind are anything but sweet.

With a gentle lick to his thumb to rid it of the stain, and a long sigh, he throws his head down onto the steering wheel, sliding a hand down over his trousers to grip his now fully hard erection with a hiss. He needs to stop. From now, all he’ll think about today is Gakuganji in the shower, another mental image he’ll never be able to erase, but a far less thrilling one. It’s humorous how quickly his hard-on went limp in his hand, and he silently thanks himself from 12 years in the past for breaking into the old geezers quarters to replace his shampoo with hair removal cream.

Minutes pass, and he finds himself reminiscing on his school days with a soft smile, one that slightly falters when you enter the car again, in a much shorter skirt.

One that was definitely borderline against school rules, especially with the way you’re sporting it with no tights underneath. Normally he wouldn’t care about things this trivial, you have the freedom to wear whatever you want anyways. But he’s sure you’ll rub some staff members the wrong way while practically parading around in a mini-skirt. He clears his throat, pulling out of the parking spot and handing you his phone.

“Wanna play music?” He offers, and you accept, scrolling through the music app to find your favorite songs and adding them into a playlist titled “ Your fav student :P”

The rest of the car ride is silent, but it’s comfortable. Apart from your occasional hums and mumbles to the song lyrics, there’s no pressure from either of you to hold small talk or conversation. Gojo-sensei drives relaxedly, an easy smile on his face, his eyes flicker to your thighs every once in a while, sighing in the process, and thankful he wore his blindfold today, so you wouldn’t see the way he ogles you, simultaneously wanting to punch himself for letting his gaze wander yet again.

When he drops you off with Nanami and Yuji, he bids you all farewell, and unsurprisingly, you lean in to give him a hug before he leaves, which prompts Yuji to do the same, throwing himself into the mix like a hyper-active puppy that just wants to be included, screaming “Group hug!”

“Alright alright, get in here both of you!” Gojo chuckles, wrapping both his arms around yours and Yuji’s shoulders, tucking you under his freakishly long arms. His large hands rest atop your heads, ruffling your hair as you squirm around, the three of you laughing like idiots.

The sudden sound of a throat being cleared snaps you all out of it, the blonde haired man standing before you seems unimpressed to say the least.

“Gojo-san, if you’ll excuse us, we have a lot of work to get on with. Please reserve your foolishness for another time.”

“Someone’s a buzz kill..” Gojo mumbles, dropping his arms to his sides, and stepping back. You turn to face him, cupping your hand around your mouth as you whisper shout “We’ll resume this later!” With a grin, and he chuckles in response, waving you off as he walks back to the car.

You turn back to face Nanami, who is already eyeing you up and down with an unreadable expression on his face. You had never worked with him before, but you’re no stranger to teaming up with Yuji. At least he’ll make this fun, you think.

A monotone voice calling your name forces you to straighten up, you lock eyes with Nanami as he blatantly says,

“I understand you’re Gojo-san’s student as well, let me make it clear that I am not of the same mindset. I expect you to be on your best behavior if you’d like to stay on this mission.” You frown at his words, what’s that supposed to mean?

Yuji must have sensed your discomfort because he immediately resorts to damage control, laughing nervously with a hand behind his head as he reassures you, “Nanamin is like that with everyone, he was even worse with me at first. Don’t let it get to you.” He smiles, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm. Perhaps this mission won’t go so badly after all.

Nanami interjects with a sigh, fixing his ugly glasses as he says to Yuji “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Yuji shrugs, retorting with a simple “Loosen up, Nanamin!”, to which the drained looking man sighs for what seems to be the 20th time in the span of a few minutes, opting to shake his head and start talking the two of you through the plan for today. He goes on, and on, seemingly never stopping with his useless explanations.

'It’s just a stupid curse' you think. you can all just tag team it and get it over with in a day. Why does he have to overcomplicate it? You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, struggling to keep your eyes open.

It's going to be a long day..

—------------------------

“They’re human.” Shoko confirms your suspicions over the phone, causing a tension so thick in the room it nearly starts to feel stuffy. You had noticed it, from the moment the first few transfigured curses fell at your hands. Something felt off, Yuji sensed it too. It was only when Nanami took a photo of the curses’ arm that you knew. But hearing it out loud just makes it more real.

Your eyes drift to Yuji, who is seated beside you on the small sofa, across from Nanami. His gaze never leaves the ground. He’s sulking, despite Shoko reassuring the two of you over the phone that you didn’t kill them, they were already dead. Death in this sense is upsetting, but it isn’t major to you, nor is the act of killing another human for that matter. Though for Yuji it seems to be a completely different case, you know he’s beating himself up about it. He’s empathetic, the type to really feel affected by the suffering of others. You admire how he wears his heart on his sleeve, unlike you who buries all your pain in the back of your throat and swallows it whole without chewing.

“Yuji?” You call him softly, and he meets your gaze for the first time since sitting down. “You mind showing me the restroom? I forgot where it was here.” You smile, and he smiles back gently. He knows you’re lying. There’s signs all over the building that lead you to where you need to be, but he still stands up, getting the message that you’d like a minute alone with him.

You reach the end of the hallway when he finally turns to ask “What did you wan- oh.” You silence him with a tight embrace, wrapping an arm around his neck and another around his head, bringing his face down to your shoulder.

“Shut up. Just let me comfort you.” You whisper, rubbing his shoulder soothingly as he relaxes into your hold, his sniffles are muffled against the fabric of your uniform, as he lets it all out.

“Senpai, I-” he tries to speak again, but you cut in once more, knowing what he needs most now is to hear “You’re not alone. Whatever you’re shouldering, I will too.” You smile when he hugs you tighter, nodding as he wipes away the tears threatening to spill from his ducts.

“And don’t call me Senpai. It makes me feel old.” You poke at his side, and he squirms, smiling and pushing your hand away.“You are old though.” He jokes, but you punch his arm, making him wince like a child and laugh.

“Alright, that’s enough comfort then. You don’t deserve it anymore.” You laugh with him, both of you walking back to the room where Nanami is. You’re unsurprised when you see Gojo-sensei in the same room. He did say he was going to regroup with you all at the end of the day. Yuji brightens up when you sees him, rushing to his side on the small sofa.

You follow with a smile, waving at Gojo as you approach the group, though you quickly realize there’s nowhere for you to sit now. The 2-seater sofa is occupied by Yuji and Gojo, and atop the only other chair in the room sits Nanami.

Gojo notices and makes a move to get up and offer his seat to you, but in a swift movement, you grab his arm to stop him, slotting yourself in his lap before he even has a chance to interject. He freezes. Nanami freezes. Your heart races, knowing this could either go very smoothly, or very badly. Though, to your surprise, Gojo simply clears his throat, relaxing back on the sofa as he turns his head to Nanami.

“So. Where were we?” He asks, as if nothing just happened. As if your perky little ass isn’t seated right on his crotch in front of another student and a coworker. He can’t let this get to him. Not in front of everyone. You’re just taking a seat. Nothing more, nothing less. It just so happens that your already-too-short skirt has ridden up enough for him to feel everything.

Nanami moves the topic quickly, continuing his explanation to Gojo about the events that occurred and the leads you were able to get today. You, on the other hand, are still not making it any easier for your poor sensei.

You absentmindedly tap your nails against the arm of the sofa, shifting in Gojo’s lap to get more comfortable. A particular shift from your hips causes his cock to twitch. He groans, disguising the noise with a cough. He gently places a hand on your upper hip, stilling your movements with a deep breath as he tries for the life of him to focus on anything but the warmth emanating from between your plush thighs. ‘Naked Gakuganji, Naked Gakuganji…’ He repeats in his own head like a mantra.

He talks back and forth with Nanami, discussing the next steps in tracking down the patch-face curse, you couldn’t be bothered to listen, knowing it’ll all get simplified in an email later on anyways. You must have been pretty zoned out because a tap on your hip snaps you back to reality.

The reality where Nanami is staring you dead in the eyes as he speaks, with anything but a gentle tone, “...As as I was saying. Will you and Itadori-kun excuse us for a minute? I need to have a word with Gojo-san. Alone.” He emphasizes the last few words, making it clear he wants the two of you gone, now.

You nod and stand up from Gojo-sensei’s lap, Yuji follows as the two of you walk to the door, Yuji waves to both of them with a sweet smile, and you turn your head back, saying goodbye as well, but only Gojo says it back.

There is a silence that fills the room once yourself and Yuji leave. Gojo is about to make some snarky comment when he gets sucker-punched in the face by Nanami’s question.

“So how long have you been fucking your student?” Nanami asks in a tone so sure it even makes Gojo doubt himself for a split second.

“What?” Gojo asks back, unable to process what just hit him.

“You heard me the first time.” Nanami states.

“Yeah and I'll also hear it if you told me you liked your job but that doesn’t make it true.” Gojo scoffs, running a hand through his hair as he realizes the absurdity of the question he's being faced with.

“You seriously have the nerve to be sarcastic when faced with a question like that?” Nanami's tone comes out a little more aggressively.

“Well you had the nerve to ask me that stupid question in the first place.” Gojo retorts, with a similar bite in his tone.

“Don’t take me for an idiot.” Nanami grits his teeth, removing his glasses to squint his eyes at the white haired man sitting in front of him.

“Hard not to when you’re accusing me of being a fucking pervert.” Gojo argues, clenching a fist on his thigh.

“Then do you care to explain to me the reason she acts so suggestively towards you?” Nanami asks, clearly trying to back his coworker into a corner.

“And what exactly is suggestive about the way she acts?” Gojo’s knuckles turn white from how hard he’s clenching.

“Leaning in to you, batting her eyelashes, licking her lips, the try-hard tone of voice she puts on only when you’re around-” Nanami starts to list off, before he’s interrupted by Gojo’s incredulous laughter.

“Yeah, just like every other young girl I speak to that tries to get my attention?” He retorts, shaking his head with a deep sigh. ‘ What the fuck is Nanami’s problem? ’ He thinks.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much.” Nanami rolls his eyes, fed up.

“It’s not flattery, it’s fact.” Gojo states blankly, having had enough of this conversation,

“She sat in your lap.” Nanami poses, certain he can’t deflect this argument.

“There was nowhere else to sit. If it was so ‘suggestive’ do you think she would have done it with others around?” Gojo defends, “Maybe you’re the perverted one here for seeing it that way.” He spits out, bringing a deep furrow to Nanami’s eyebrows.

“What the hell are you saying?!” Nanami growls, raising his voice.

“I’m saying, no girl is immune to the effects of my charm.” Gojo shrugs, as casual as ever, as if he’s not having one of the most absurd conversations in his life.

“Quit fucking around, Gojo.” Nanami sighs, straightening up in his chair.

“You see, Nanami, this is actually what it’s like when a girl has a crush on you. Not that I expect someone like you to know about that.” Gojo states, laughing in his coworkers face, but faltering for a moment. ‘Wait, Crush? Why would I say that?’ He thinks.

Nanami simply stands up, having heard enough of Gojo’s shit. This conversation was going nowhere, not when the man before him is deflecting like he’s born to do so.

“You’re full of shit, Gojo, and you know it.” Nanami states, walking towards the door without bidding a second look. “Yeah, well…you’re not even a fart!” Gojo shouts at his frame as it disappears past the door and into the hallway.

He sinks back on the sofa, sighing deeply as he tries to digest everything that happened to him today. Surely none of it was obvious, right? You aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re just a sweet girl who happens to be the object of his twisted desires. Maybe Nanami sees through that, in that case he just needs to up his masking game, something he’s more than used to already.

But it still isn’t an excuse for the man to just throw baseless accusations like that. It’s disrespectful to him, and also to you.

Anyone could tell those were bullshit claims, anyways. Though, it does cross his mind that everything you seem to be doing is exactly what he was used to from girls that wanted him in the past. The thought grows in a way he really doesn’t want it to. Those girls were always his age. It makes no sense that an innocent girl like you would intentionally act that way with a teacher. Right?

Well..Unless you do have a crush on him, he thinks..Then it hits him. The lollipop sharing. The staring. The physical contact. It all starts to click.

“Shit.” He mutters, throwing his head into the palm of his hands.

You have a crush on him.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Do we seriously think that other member fanbases have not posted about donations from China? The difference is that others have not had similar chart success as Jimin, especially in the US. I am not counting Seven here because how much ever the fandom wants to deny it, that song got everything a western artist song does, if not more. There is not much difference in their US streams for the same week considering Seven had double the versions and remixes. 16% of LC overall streams are coming from the US even after 5 months whereas it’s only 9% for Seven. We can see that Seven globally is being carried by asian countries where the number of Spotify users and the streams it is pulling is disproportionate. Even with all this BB is never going to call out Seven success because it has all the playlisting and radio which is what BB wants every artist to do. And who in this fandom is even ready to have this nuanced conversation. Because as soon as you point out all this you are immediately labelled an anti.

And so they were always going to make Jimin the scapegoat irrespective of anything. If not the fanbase funding then it would have been something else. But what I don’t understand is that you know all this and yet you threw shade at Jimin solos. There is this constant push by this fandom to portray Jimin solos as the worst. I’m not saying they are saints but all other member solos do the same shit and yet I see one being called out more than the other. And again if you point this out then you are labelled an anti. Because this fandom always throws Jimin under the bus to call out his solos. Anyways I know I am talking to the wall here because the standard response I see is that his solos are always victimising him or that you guys are in an echo chamber and we call out all solos. I am in enough OT7 spaces to know that is not true but no one would agree to this because then the question arises that maybe it has more to do with bias against Jimin than his solos.

***

You know, the best way to answer this is probably to pick this whole thing apart, line by line, to show for example where you’ve made fairly accurate observations but drawn the wrong conclusion, as solos and their diet versions and/or exiles typically do. Or to show where you’ve made observations that aren’t consistent with the facts as I know them but which also have carry-on effects to other observations you’ve made, and so on. That’s probably the best approach since I’m well aware these are the arguments and talking points in certain fandom spaces.

But we’ve been having this same conversation since March. It’s been six months of nonstop bullshit theories from PJMs, other solos, their enablers within ARMY, ARMY themselves, etc, and I’ve been writing about this the whole time as well, consistently repeating more or less the same things, noting the same misconceptions, reinforcing the same caution, etc, and now much of what I wrote turned out to be correct, but it seems to have entirely gone over your head in all that righteous indignation. I mean, just today, after reading an article like that, reading the ~5 posts I’ve pumped out on it only today, you still don’t get it. Your primary takeaway from this is that Jimin solos were singled out and shaded by me (and the fandom) and that this proves Jimin is possibly disproportionately hated by the fandom and we must all be hypocrites who don’t really care for him either way… You still can’t see beyond that singular point of view.

I’m tired lmao, and I really don’t see the point in continuing an exercise that’s already doomed to be futile if that ask is any indication. Since you already see this as you talking to a wall. I’m very comfortable with you thinking I’m a hypocrite or whatever else, and you having whatever conclusion you have about all this without me trying to persuade you. And anyway, like I said there’s no use crying over spilled milk. What’s done is done. Everyone who can glean whatever lessons they need to learn from this, will do that, and others won’t, which is probably why I’m nearly certain that when we have to do this all over again next year (or possibly later this year), we’ll have much of the same exact problems many of which will be caused by people who still don’t get it. I only hope at that point, that number will be fewer. That would make so much of our lives easier. If BigHit is actually efficient too and on the ball, then it would be even more so.

A couple more things:

1 - If you’re indeed staying in OT7 spaces Anon, then you’d know the focus has already shifted from all this BS, to preparing for PJM2 already, as well as the next releases (which of course currently take priority). PJM2 is what Jimin is focused on, and that’s what many of his fans/ARMY have shifted towards already - a shift that started in a few OT7 spaces since the third week of April after the screwed up Billboard changes, while most everyone else was coming up with every conspiracy theory in the book to explain how BigHit was secretly pulling the strings within Billboard to cause Billboard to shaft their own artist…

2 - A quick note I want to make on Western awards: By virtue of being a BTS member, Jimin’s chances were already slim. After that Billboard article they’re even slimmer, but he’s still got a chance. It might be an ice cube’s chance in hell, but it’s a chance nonetheless. And the hope I have is that he does get recognized.

Anyway, good luck Anon. You seem to be a bit familiar with my blog but I can’t say you’ve actually read my posts. Even if we clearly disagree I hope you’re working towards supporting his current and next releases, because that’s what I’m doing too. Anything else will make all of this entirely worthless.

[maureen-corpse]

Okay, so, here's what I've been stressing out about. A while ago I listened to this podcast called Sold a Story (link here) about a method of teaching children to read that absolutely does not sound like it should be real because it does not make sense. Every time the podcast host describes it, I feel as if there is a massive gap and there is some key piece of information I'm missing because I cannot see how someone could see one of these fragments of a lesson or hear a description--even a more favorable version of a description--and think it makes sense as a way to teach children how to read.

Now, here's a caveat: I haven't done any further reading on this topic yet. My last search was to see if I could find any lesson plans online real fast and I could not. Real fast, you see. I have more reading to do! I need to just look at bibliographies and then the bibliographies of the items in those bibliographies and just torture some local librarians, probably. Or, I don't know, maybe JSTOR will help me.

Just for your reference, I'm going to dive into the transcripts of a couple of episodes and copy the description of this idea about teaching reading here. This is a list of "strategies" used to figure out what a new word is, from the second episode of the podcast: "Look at the first letter. Look at the picture. Think of a word that makes sense."

Now, from the first episode, here is a part where a lesson is described, and because this is a long quote I'm going to put a read more here:

Teacher: I’m gonna read a little bit of this story to you. And if I get stuck on a word, I want you to try to help me figure out what that word could be. The teacher reads the story. The kids can see the words on the screen, they’re following along as she reads. And then the teacher comes to a word that she’s covered up with a little yellow sticky note. Teacher: OK, so we’re gonna stop right here on this covered word. Adams: And the teacher says, “What could this word be? Let’s look at the picture.” Teacher: We’re gonna see if the picture helps us to figure out what that word would be. The kids can’t see the word. It’s covered with the sticky note. So there’s no way they can sound it out. They’re just trying to figure out what the word could be based on what’s going on in the story. Teacher: If we think about what’s happening so far in the story – we know Zelda and Ivy’s dad made cucumber sandwiches for lunch. And Zelda and Ivy didn’t want to eat the sandwiches, so they ran away. And now they think their mom and dad will…? Will…what? Zelda and Ivy ran away and now they think their mom and dad will…scold them? Find them? Teacher: Do you think that covered word could be the word “miss?” Ah. Miss them.  Teacher: Could it be the word “miss”? Because now that they’re gone maybe their parents will miss them? The teacher asks the kids to think about whether “miss” could be the word…using the strategies they’ve been taught. Teacher: Let’s do our triple check and see. Does it make sense? Does it sound right? How about the last part of our triple check? Does it look right? Let’s uncover the word and see if it looks right? The teacher lifts up the sticky note and indeed, the word is “miss.” Teacher: It looks right too. Good job. Very good job. Go ahead and click on the next slide so you can practice this strategy on our next part of our story.

When I first heard this I started losing my mind. If you just teach the kids to read and then show them the word maybe they'll figure it out! Why are you hiding the word from them! It's written down! They don't need to guess! It's written down! They could just read it! You can teach them to read and they can read it! It's there!

Anyway. Moving on. This is not organized. I promised you a rambling post and a rambling post this shall be.

Within the past few days the Sold a Story podcast feed was updated with additional episodes. These are in fact audio documentaries that were produced before Sold a Story was. (Additional episodes are promised, however, it seems.) And I've been listening to these documentaries and getting STRESSED OUT again because, you know, I love getting stressed. I love worrying. You know how it is. So, anyway, in one or two of these, it talks about this idea of reading in order to "comprehend the meaning of the text" (not a direct quote) rather than reading to read individual words.

One example used is a child reading, for example, story about a cowboy, and a sentence along the lines of "The cowboy rides a ____." The suggestion is that if the actual word is "horse," it's fine for a reader to guess that it might be "pony" and move along because the meaning is the same.

Now, if you are a horse girl or if you know a horse girl--I was an aspiring horse girl in my youth and am friends with several horse girls--you will know that "horse" and "pony" do not mean precisely the same thing. This assertion is bonkers. But you do not need to be or know a horse girl or a cowboy or an equestrian to know that this view of reading seems, uh, at odds with writing. With things like the idea that writers choose particular words for a reason. I found myself thinking it's asking children to behave like large language models, despite how much older it is--try to guess what word is most likely to come next; don't read to see what has been written and figure out what the writer has to say. People can't do a close reading if they're just making stuff up. And this got popular? How? I am baffled. I need to know how people were sold this. What comes between saying, "Children must learn to read," and saying, "All right, kids, take a guess at what this word might be"? Is it really just that the people were charismatic and had good vibes? Is there the slightest chance that Sold a Story is secretly evil and mega biased and just incapable of explaining this teaching approach normally? (Here's the thing: I learned to read as a kid and I only ever remember doing ordinary phonics instruction. Now, to be clear, it's really more that I don't remember anything the least little bit like the whole language/three-cuing/whatever approach the podcast describes--it's been a long time since I learned to read. But I remember sounding out words, you know? And here I am. Reading. So that's the extent of what I know so far: my personal experience learning to read and this one podcast.)

You can see why I need to do more reading on the subject (and why I want to see lesson plans. I want to see what happens during week one of a whole language reading curriculum). Now, Sold a Story assures me that a lot of schools are moving away from this and moving back toward phonics instruction, but folks. I am STRESSED. Literacy is SO good and SO important and people are just bungling it? We have free public education and we're not even teaching the children how to read? Listen, I know so many schools are underfunded and bad. I know. But what I did not know was that sometimes people just make up teaching methods that sound absolutely delusional and then still manage to make millions of dollars selling them anyway.

I just can't quite wrap my mind around it. You have to think of a word that makes sense. But these are children. They are absorbing information as quickly as they can but they don't know everything yet. Maybe they don't know about cowboys. What if they just plain don't know the word? Why does it sound like this method is meant to suggest that the written word is some kind of spell for unlocking secret knowledge contained within a person when it is actually just a way of transmitting information, including information a person does not have? My god, you can see a word you don't know, and if you see all the individual letters and spell it, you can look it up in a dictionary! You can learn a new word! Gain new information!

Also, my other question that has never been addressed--actually I have two questions. First: where, in the process of teaching children to read, does teaching children to write come up? And next, the question that has never been addressed but my asking it would be informed by the answer to my previous question: I really rather feel like this method of teaching children to read must make for very bad writers, doesn't it? If they aren't, for one thing, actually reading words, but mainly making their best guesses and scooting by, they are not absorbing the spellings of words. It does help a great deal, when writing, to be able to put a word down on paper. And if you aren't actually absorbing what words different writers select for different purposes, you can't make word choices yourself. You can't pull from the knowledge you have gained from other writers because you didn't read their work at all. You made it up based on, what, conversations you've had? Movies you've watched? But you didn't ever learn how to meaningfully engage with the text set before you.

All right. That's all I have for now. I am stressed. About literacy. I know it may be risky posting something like this--unedited and everything--on the reading comprehension web site, but, you know. I'm living dangerously.

[theopenbookwigtown]

🏡 Back home in Shropshire, but what a week it's been. 🌟

Grateful for everyone who joined our journey - the locals' warmth, the visitors' love for The Open Book. 😍

It's been the most wholesome week we've ever had.

🗓 18th - 23rd July 2023: ⏰ 41 hours open 🤝 319 people greeted 🐶 16 adorable dog visitors 📚 81 books found new homes

As I've been doing all the posting this week, Gary wanted to say something...

I did not want to be a bookseller. I wanted even less to pay for the privilege.

Stephy had other ideas, however, and it’s in my nature to follow her lead even when I’m convinced she’s gone off the deep end. And so, in 2017, we booked our place at the end of a 3-year wait and Stephy impatiently dreamt of our upcoming trip. This, I believe, is called “foreshadowing.”

2 days before our trip in 2020, we were all locked in our homes for the foreseeable future. And so, in 2020, we booked our place at the end of a 3-year wait and Stephy impatiently dreamt of our upcoming trip.

I tell you this to emphasise that, despite two 3 year waits and a pandemic, I was no more enthusiastic about our bizarre little holiday. I was convinced that we would see too few customers and I would be bored out of my mind or, much worse, that we would see too many and I would be forced to relive the retail experience that made me promise “never again” as a teenager. Either way, I was terrified that my anxiety and my atrophied social skills would leave me trapped in a solid week of awkward interactions and uncomfortable silences.

I ran these scenarios in my head, preparing myself for any eventuality, but I could never have anticipated that I would fit in almost immediately. We were soon visited by many of the locals, invited to events and welcomed into their stores as though we were regulars. This strange, wonderful place embraced us with everything from casual Good Mornings shared across the quiet road as we all set up our signs and displays, to conversation in the street to compare notes after closing. It is rare that I feel a sense of belonging, but I found it here and instantly fell in love.

With the help of Stephy's boundless energy and contagious enthusiasm, I fully discarded my shell within days and, by week's end, was actively greeting everyone who walked through the door with a genuine “How are you today?” like some kind of crazy person.

It was in this question that I found the real treasure of this place, the thing that makes The Open Book far more than the sum of its parts: Those who visit, do so looking for a story or two, sure, but if you ask them, and if you listen, they often gift you a story in return. We encountered people bursting with the kind of joy and wisdom that only comes from a life well lived and learned important life lessons that we will carry with us forever. All it took was a word and an ear.

The dream, the one I didn't understand, can be found here in Wigtown but you are missing the point if all you are looking for is a quaint, cosy stay in a bookshop. The Open Book wouldn't work anywhere else because The Open Book is Wigtown. There is a perfect storm here. The right people in the right place at the right time with the right idea have created something truly magical. How else can I describe something wonderful that shouldn't exist, but does anyway?

This is a place where a modern shop with modern comforts exists but the penny sweet is alive and well, where a parade of 40 horses might run right by your front door and bagpipe music can be described as "spontaneous", where a "little concert" is both cosy and breathtaking in equal measure, where you can enter a store to the sound of live banjo music and learn of the owners attempts to purchase a life-sized triffid, and where you will learn the secret to a long happy life is to pull up your socks, always be curious, never stop learning, and buy a second TV for your spouse.

In just one week, a bookstore had become a home, a handful of strangers had become neighbours and friends and a holiday I would gladly have missed had become a memory that I will cherish always. I leave this place healed and inspired, thankful for the kindness and the stories that I will take home with me, and saddened beyond measure to say goodbye so soon.

I did not want to be a bookseller, but I will be forever grateful that I was.

Until next time, Wigtown.

💛 Stephy & Gary

[lotusthewriter]

Take her to the moon for me, okay?

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: G Relationship: Lars & Steven (PLATONIC!) Characters: Lars Barriga, Steven Quartz Universe; other characters are only mentioned Summary: Steven and Lars watch a movie. Word count: 2.066 AO3

A/N: I actually forgot I'd finished this story, so I'm finally posting it. It was based on a drawing I made nearly a year ago, except I made the idea a lot sadder here, lmao. But don't worry, it ends on a happy note.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - past canonical death and trauma.

Once again, do NOT ship Steven and Lars. P/roship DNI.

--

“Sooo, I was thinking we could watch this one?”

Steven reveals a tape that he recorded himself.

“It’s called Inside Out! It was released a few years ago and I never got to see it, but I thought it looked cool. But uh, maybe you have a better suggestion and you want to watch something that isn’t for kids, haha…”

“Oh no, I actually like Inside Out,” Lars says, rather securely. Steven guesses he would probably never admit that if this conversation happened a couple years before.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I, er… saw it in theaters with the Cool Kids. I didn’t think I’d like it but wow, it was incredible. I wanted to cry so badly.”

“Aw, that’s awesome! But you don’t mind watching it again, right?”

“No, no. It’s been years since I saw it and I honestly want to see your reaction. I’m not giving you any spoilers, though.”

“Okay!”

Since everything else – popcorn, drinks and snacks – is ready, Steven simply puts the tape inside the VHS player. Lars is sitting on Steven’s bed while the latter stays on the floor. Lars offers to switch places but Steven doesn’t mind it. He’s so excited for the movie that he doesn’t mind where he stays.

--

“... I’ll try, Bing Bong. I promise.”

Oh man. That part still stings.

When Lars first saw it in the theater, he managed not to shed any tears in front of the Cool Kids, even though they were openly crying and hugging each other. Lars wasn’t much of a crier around Sadie, either.

Now, Lars knows it’s okay for him to cry. He’s allowed to be vulnerable. Although he might not bawl and crash, the tears come out more naturally. It feels good, even if painful.

And of course, he’s not surprised to hear Steven sniffing.

However, he notices that Steven is very affected. The boy even muttered, “no, no, no, no,” when he realized what was going to happen. Though maybe Lars is just reading too much into it. He knows Steven is a very sensitive person, so this is to be expected.

Until Steven wraps Lars in a tight hug and he’s straight up sobbing in the latter’s chest. Lars is a little taken aback by how intense the crying is at first, but he smiles sadly and rubs the boy’s back up and down.

“Hey, it’s okay, buddy,” Lars reassures him.

“Why did he have to dieeee?” Steven whines, his voice tiny as if he’s fourteen again. “It’s not fair!”

“Yeah… I know, pal,” Lars sighs, patting his back in support.

“Joy didn’t even notice him jumping out of the cart?!”

“Maybe it was the adrenaline, I dunno.”

“She should’ve noticed!”

Lars doesn’t want to say that the lesson there was that Riley was growing up and her childhood was going away. He feels like that’s probably going to upset Steven further.

“I mean,” Steven pulls away, revealing his mess of snot. Lars searches for the tissues in the room, without standing up, but he can’t find it, “Joy is supposed to make everything better, so she should’ve known! She should’ve saved him!”

“Steven, he was going to disappear anyway,” Lars says patiently. He hopes that doesn’t make things worse.

“But he didn’t deserve to die! He just wanted to be remembered!”

“She said she would take Riley to the moon for him.”

“That’s not the same thing! He was just forgotten in that dark pit! Do they even talk about Bing Bong? Or does Joy just ignore it altogether?!” Steven raises his voice. Lars starts feeling more concerned. “He didn’t deserve it! If Joy was good enough, she wouldn’t let that happen!”

Much to Lars’ surprise, Steven starts glowing pink and crying angry tears.

“If I were good enough, Bing Bong wouldn’t be DEAD!”

The shock on Steven’s face is quick to replace the grief.

Mostly because Lars is staring at him, completely speechless. Only now realizing what they’re actually talking about.

The film is not even on; the TV makes a loud, static noise.

And Lars knows that no controller could’ve done that.

Steven sees his glowing hands and gasps, shaking himself so he represses the angry pink, and Lars knows that’s awful. Steven doesn’t want Lars to see him like this. Steven doesn’t want to be vulnerable. And this is the kid who helped Lars of all people to open up to others.

The moment the older teen opens his mouth, Steven abruptly stands on his feet, dropping the juice can he was drinking and spilling it all over the floor.

“I-I’m- I’m gonna get more popcorn!” Steven blurts out and runs away, almost falling. Lars tries to reach him but his hand is not close enough.

Lars is alone in Steven’s room, the static TV his only company. The noise is too much for his ears, so he turns it off before it drives him crazy.

Still, the static is in Lars’ head. He feels so stupid for not realizing things sooner. He feels stupid for never bothering to talk to Steven about, well, his death. Lars doesn’t even like saying the word around anyone, not even himself. Which is very unlike him, Lars will admit it. Everyone else avoids mentioning the word “death”, too, like Sadie, his parents, and the Cool Kids. The Off Colors don’t even get what it means to die in the human way.

Things are okay, sure. Everyone has accepted Lars. But they just don’t touch on it. Least of all Steven, who’s trying so hard to make everyone feel better… he does everything so Lars feels accepted, pink and all.

But if Lars is admittedly not over his death, still dealing with panic attacks and nightmares even if they’re less frequent nowadays… What about Steven? What about a kid who watched his friend die? Who had no idea he could even save Lars?

Has Steven ever talked about this with anyone else?

He knows the kid, though.

Lars can’t be quiet about this anymore.

The pink-skinned teenager finally goes downstairs, yet not rushedly. Lars doesn’t want to scare Steven, who’s in the kitchen, not even near the popcorn. Steven is seen from his back, shrunk, apparently hugging himself to keep his sobs inside of him.

“Why? Why am I like this?” Steven asks himself. “Why do I just ruin everything? I’m so stupid! Urgh!”

Lars genuinely wants to cry hearing those words. But he needs to help Steven first.

Finally, he reaches the balcony, much to Steven’s surprise.

“Oh! Lars!” The half-gem dries his eyes with his sleeves. He suddenly pretends he was getting the popcorn, as well as more drinks in the fridge. “Sorry, I-I was just- y-you can go back upstairs, I’ve got this!”

Lars finally joins him, offering a hand to take some of the cans. Steven is very unwilling to hand them over, but Lars just waits and eventually the kid gives them to him. Lars just places them back in the fridge so they don’t get warm, and he closes it. Steven doesn’t protest.

The younger boy just leans on the balcony with his whole body, making a miserable noise. Lars steps closer and puts a hand on his back again. Steven doesn’t want to be seen, but it seems that he secretly wants affection.

That way, Lars is placing both hands on Steven’s shoulders, sort of massaging them. Sadie does that for Lars when the latter is tense or about to have an emotional breakdown. It looks like it’s helping.

Steven, for once, looks at his friend, his face still a mess, eyes and nose reddened. Lars has not said a word.

“I-I’m sorry I ruined–”

“Shh… don’t worry.” Lars sighs. “I should’ve talked to you sooner.”

“No, you didn’t have to!”

“Except I should’ve. You’re always helping people, but who’s helping you? Who knows what’s going inside your head?”

Steven releases more tears, unable to deny his words.

“I never bothered to ask how you’ve been. Like, actually ask. I can’t keep pretending everything is fine. I’m sorry, Steven.”

“Lars…”

“Like, seriously. You didn’t deserve to see that.”

Steven finally stands on his feet, but his head is lowered and he’s not looking at Lars.

“But you… y-you died because of me. Because I was too stupid and- and I gave out a list of everyone to Peridot, if I knew what was going to happen next I would’ve never–”

“Hey, hey, listen to yourself; you didn’t know. You couldn’t have known, Steven. It wasn’t your fault.”

Steven doesn’t believe him.

Even though Lars is not that much taller than him nowadays, he still kneels down to look at Steven properly.

“Look at me,” Lars whispers, “I don’t hate you.”

“Y-You should.”

“But I don't. Because it’s not your fault.”

Steven sobs quietly.

“I-I just… wanted to s-save everyone…”

Lars squeezes one of his shoulders.

“You did.”

Steven, eventually, grows quieter again, but still avoids eye contact.

“Maybe…” Lars thinks over his next words. “Maybe Bing Bong couldn’t make it… but I’m here, aren’t I?”

The half-gem contemplates.

“And it’s because of you. I could never be more grateful to be here.”

Steven looks genuinely shocked. Lars is smiling. Then he’s drying some of the boy’s tears.

“I should’ve told you that sooner, huh?” The older teen asks. “Well, I’ll make sure to tell you that more often now.”

The sixteen-year-old breaks, in a good way. Lars is now the one pulling him in a hug and Steven allows it this time. He’s finally opening the cracks and letting them be seen. Lars stays and lets the kid mourn the times no one ever said those things to him. He’s there to make sure Steven understands he’s not hated, he’s not expected to answer everything there is to know of the universe. Lars just wants him to be a kid. The kid he never got to be.

Steven doesn’t need to be happy all the time.

He can be sad. He can be angry. He can be afraid.

It’s okay.

--

After cleaning the room, Lars says they don’t have to finish the movie. Steven, however, is willing to see the rest. They’re both sitting on the bed now.

The part where Riley comes home…

Steven cries but this time he relies on Lars, who catches him with one of his arms.

Inside Out still ends on a good note. They hint at a sequel, but overall it reassures them that things will be okay no matter the obstacles in life.

As the credits roll, Steven hasn’t left Lars’ support just yet.

“Did you like it?” Lars wonders.

“Y-Yeah, I loved it.”

While it’s a genuine answer, it sounds like Steven is thinking of something else.

“I’m…” He gulps. “I’m glad you’re here, Lars.”

It can mean many things.

Lars grins.

“Yeah, buddy. Me too.”

Steven smiles back.

“Do you, uh, want to go home or… maybe watch something else…?”

Lars hums. “Yeah, I’d love to stay longer.”

“I dunno if I have more movies here…”

“We could just watch whatever’s on TV.”

Steven is analyzing all the tapes he keeps.

“Do you… know Camp Pining Hearts?”

Lars blinks. “You have that?”

“Yeah. I mean, what’s left of them. Peridot took all my tapes. I also heard they’re making a reboot, so maybe I could get in on the hype. But I dunno if you’re into that kind of stuff.”

Lars sighs. “Alright, Steven, hear me out. I was… the biggest CPH fan back in the day.”

“Whoa, really?”

“Yeah. Not even Sadie knew about that until recently.”

“Wow, I think you and Peridot and Lapis would get along well, then.”

“Maybe.”

“She ships Percy and Pierre.”

Lars hums, content. “Excellent taste.”

Steven laughs. “I still don’t get it, but okay.”

Regardless, the two boys get the tapes that are very out of order – and it turns out they’re the bad episodes of CPH since Peridot apparently got all the good ones – but they have a good time either way. The series is… worse than Lars remembered. But it’s fun and intriguing, honestly.

But most importantly, he likes to watch it with someone that gets it. Sadie was never into CPH even after Lars told her about it.

Steven is having a good blast with it.

Lars is having even more of a good time.

To see the kid being a kid.

[pokegalla]

Small note: Here’s a small mini series of short stories for the game Obey Me! I just recently got into the game so I thought of making a fun little project of chaos of my sona and mutual’s sona deal with the demon bro’s shenanigans✨ enjoy✨ (Let me know if I should write more!)

Rebel belongs to @veiled-rebel

Lisa belongs to me

Lesson 1

I yawn as me and my friend Rebel were traveling universes again and ended up crashing at the current universe we’re in. It was common for us to get lost every now and then as universe hopping can be pretty difficult sometimes. But this time….I think I really messed up. Because now….we’re going to be stuck living with 7 demon brothers for a year.

A few hours earlier……

“GAH-“

“SHIT WAIT-“

We fell right into the middle of a random conference room where several guys were having a discussion and they look at us confused. But one helped us up.

“Apologies for the rough travel my friends! Are you two alright….?” The red haired man said.

“We’re good sir…uh….” Rebel blinked a few times before realizing where we were. They quickly nudged me, “Lisa. We need to go….NOW. Cmoooooon-“

I looked a little confused by their sudden nervousness, “Ok ok calm down. The portals just probably got mixed up….I’ll fix it.”

But when I tried to resummon it. Nothing….happened? This….this never happened before. Sure I mess up spells before but never to this extent! I try again and again and AGAIN until….

”AHHHH! MY MAGIC!!! ITS COMPLETELY GOOOONE!” I sulk in the corner, “I’ve failed you my friend. If we must die, please all that I ask is that may it please be swift?”

Rebel sweatdropped, “Dude seriously….?”

A pink haired man laughed, “What a dramatic way to go out I’ll say. Almost noble….”

A blonde guy sweatdropped, “Jeez she was quick to accept death that quickly…?”

“Lord Diavolo. I do not mean to question your leadership in anyway….but what in the world is this…?” The raven haired man asked the guy who helped us up.

Diavolo laughed, “For my exchange program of my school of course! I’d like for these two to be apart of this learning experience!”

“Wait….what? You summoned us here for that?” Rebel tilted their head, curious but wary. They knew they were demons so they had to be careful around them….especially since I was just human.

“Why of course! The purpose of this program is to bring peace to humans, angels, and demons of this world. And you and your human friend seem like the ideal candidates for this program!” Diavolo said proudly, “If that’s alright with you of course.”

“Sure. Sounds like a nice ideal. Unity is my kinda thing too,” The guys turn to see me, now looking more motivated.

“……were you not just crying in the corner begging for a swift death?” The raven haired man asked with a brow raised.

“Well now I’m here and interested. So shush. Stop complaining,” I put a finger up to shush him much to everyone’s fear. “I’ll be delighted to take part of the program.”

“…..eh fuck it. If she’s going, I’ll join as well. As long as we remain together at least….” Rebel said with a shrug.

Diavolo nods, “Of course. I’ll allow it. As long as you don’t mind living with my student council of course. As your friend has seemed to post her powers, she’ll need protection. As well as you if necessary. They are the 7 brothers as well as the avatars of sin. That over there is Lucifer, the avatar of pride. He’ll be the one taking you in.”

……me and Rebel slowly look up at Lucifer in horror. Who looked livid as I still had my finger up still.

I move my hand away, “……s-sorry sir.”

Surprisingly, he just laughed it off, “I’ll let you off the hook just this once. After all you didn’t know who I was. But I can ensure it won’t happen again….correct? Besides let us get you aquatinted with my brothers and where you two will be sleeping…” I feel like he just low key threatened me there….I flip him off when he turned around but Rebel stopped me. This was already gonna be a pain…..Lucifer could see it. But if that’s what Lord Diavolo wants, he’ll just have to deal with us.

And now here me and Rebel are, after getting settled in and introduced to all the brothers, I sit in my new bed thinking about everything that happened. What the fuck am I doing? Agreeing to this shit?! I’m officially insane!

“Lisa…..It’s late. Don’t just be sitting there in the dark. You look scary as fuck-“ Rebel mumbled.

“First of all fuck you. Second of all that’s just rude- …..and I’m just uh thinking and stuff. I mean I’m not worried about staying here. But was this a good idea…? I mean I don’t fully know much about this universe,” I admit.

Rebel turned to me, “Well to be frank? Just be careful Lisa. In this world you’re just a regular human so all you gotta do is be careful because demons here will probably target you. So as much as you wanna get along with everyone, you have to be more wary around others, K? That also means tone down on the sass….”

“……man fuck Lucifer-“ I huff already knowing what they were indicating.

“If you have time to flap that mouth of yours, you have enough time to close your eyes and SLEEP,” Lucifer said from our doorway making us jump. “You have classes tomorrow. Do NOT be late…”

With that he left. Ugh what was his problem? He already annoys me. But me and Rebel ended up dozing off together. Hopefully tomorrow is a better day. But I really need to get stronger now that I have no magic…..I can’t rely on some demons we just met. Hm Maybe I can find a gym or training area tomorrow. Yeah that could provide something! I’ll make sure to go there right after classes!

…..if I can even find it.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Marius will visit a therapist because he's the wisdom vampire. But he'll end up turning his therapist as a lesson because how dare they make assumptions about him without surving 2000 years themselves!

Dgjkadls STOP LOL

This is actually so on brand for like Old Canon Marius who like, yknow, tends to SAY STUFF but doesn’t actually mean it because it’s part of the character he’s crafted for himself. Like, of course he WANTS to be a wise patient mentor and he tells people like Pandora and Armand that he wants them to CHALLENGE HIM because he thinks that’s something a wise patient mentor would say, when in reality he actually doesn’t want to be challenged, and reacts very poorly to being challenged.

So that type of Marius would ONE HUNDRED PERCENT book some therapy to say “wow can you believe it, look at me, I am so enlightened I am so modern and open minded, I am such an example of non-toxic masculinity I cannot believe this, is everyone looking? Do you all see me doing it? Should I tell you about it? Can I announce to the entire Court that I can’t come tomorrow bc I have a 8pm with Steven? He makes a special night slot for me do you believe it.”

But then like. Is he gonna actually do the work? Does he allow Steven to challenge him? Does he go to therapy thinking that he’s going to be validated for all his petty bitching and does he think he’s paying somebody to have an outlet to complain about his life??????????????????? When Steven suggests “Marius I wonder if the common denominator here is you” does Marius FREAK THE FUCK OUT?? (Yes lol.)

((I’m laughing, if you’re into nerdy psychology shit and ever watched In Treatment on HBO, this is very much Colin & Brooke’s dynamic in Season 4 where he’s presenting himself as this enlightened guy who isn’t too masc for therapy but then it’s an act and he becomes a raging misogynist when she asserts herself with him D: ))

But anyway I cannot roast Old Canon Marius without also saying that in my mind, Post-Canon Marius has been humbled and is ready to do the work and stop being a cunt.

I’ve been tinkering with a vampire therapy fic (don’t tell anyone) and how it would look for them. Yknow in a way that isn’t cheesy LOL. But like how could they learn about psychology and how can they apply it to their unique lifestyles and brain structure. Who can they learn from, and is it possible to talk to someone or is it always going t be just reading self help books? But idk I just felt like the series ended on such a hopeful note. Marius is ready to stop hating himself for being a vampire, he’s ready to try to talk to Armand (honestly, I think?), they all just had a harrowing near death experience that might call their feelings about mortality into question. He’s going THROUGH IT with Pandora omfg. Ahjgklad.

Anyway. !!!!!!!! I believe in him lol he will be rehabilitated.

SORRY I FEEL LIKE YOU SEND THIS ASK AS A JOKE BUT IM JUST, FULL OF FEELINGS YOU CAN’T EXPECT ME TO NOT CRY ABOUT MARIUS WHENEVER SOMEONE GIVES ME THE OPPORTUNITY

[darsynia]

The heart wants what it wants...

Gosh, so I've been writing for a nearly 30 year old fandom, the book/tv show Christy. I was a huge Kellie Martin fan from Life Goes On, and I'd liked the book (evangelical childhood go brrr)-- lemme tell you, Scottish-voiced older smart gruff man & idealistic kind resourceful opinionated young woman will ALWAYS get me. Add LeVar Burton and Tyne Daly and I'm HOOKED. OH I forgot to mention it's set in the Great Smokies and the vistas are magnificent (TWW reference says hi).

Well, the show itself has a religious scaffolding, and it's pretty wholesome, so though the series manages some truly intense unresolved sexual tension, I should refrain from getting too racy in this 'it was a crime to never show these two kissing' 'shipping Neil/Christy for 30 years does something to a person' story, right? RIGHT?

Me: I'll write a brief satisfying M encounter

Me now: he's soaked after checking for a fire in a thunderstorm and she's slowly unbuttoning him while he loses his mind OOPS

Anyway, I'm putting the finishing touches on Shipping chapter 3, but if you ever watched this show or might be interested in a period piece where two people with hidden feelings find themselves married and figuring out what fun that can be, feel free to check out that story! It's got a tiny online presence (under 200 fics on FFN, my fic was #7 on AO3) so I probably won't post again about it, but I'm very pleased by what I've written.

Breathing Fire

Summary: After an unexpected standoff puts Christy in a compromised position, she discovers what a marriage based on love and friendship is really like. With that firm basis, she seeks to heal the wounds that were caused before she even arrived in Cutter Gap.

For fun, here's an excerpt under the jump:

Note: Set the day after the wedding, but their 'wedding night' was interrupted; Neil is a doctor and he was called away for a medical emergency. He hasn't gotten much sleep as a result.

When she woke next it was thanks to the bright indirect sunlight from the window. She’d slept in.

Christy threw herself out of bed, spluttering her hair out of her face as she rushed over to the dresser to grab something to wear.

“Christy,” Neil rumbled from the bed. He had his arm draped over his eyes.

“I’m late for school!”

“You’re not.”

“No, I am! Miss Alice was supposed to take my place, but she was with you.” She supposed she could dress on the other side of the closet door, or at the top of the stairs with the bedroom door closed. When she turned around with a handful of underthings, meaning to race over to the closet and do just that, she ran right into Neil.

“Grantland got back yesterday evening, he’s teaching your students today,” he said, tugging the clothes from her hands to set them on top of the dresser. “Back to bed,” he said, guiding her back with an arm around her shoulders.

Sleepy Neil was a charming mix of impatience and determination.

“But David has no idea where the lesson plans are!”

“He’ll probably spend the whole day sermonizing at them,” he said once they got over to the bed. Neil then yawned so hard he stumbled sideways before shuffling around to the other side.

Christy sat, her sense of purpose deflated. “Is there anything you were supposed to do this morning that I can do instead? Dropping by a patient’s house, or picking up supplies?”

“No one will expect us for days,” he told her, rubbing at his eye with a knuckle. “We’re meant to spend them enjoying each other, which right now should mean you, sleeping next to me, in silence.” There was a daring sort of tease to his voice that sent a thrill through her. How was she meant to sleep after he said something like that? 

“I’m wide awake. How about I go downstairs and--”

“Don’t,” Neil blurted. He took in a breath to say something, then chuckled. “Not sure how well I’d sleep knowing you were down there rearranging everything.”

“Meaning you’d sleep better if I stayed up here?” Christy guessed.

His expression sobered, and he rolled onto his back. “I keep expecting to wake up and find all of this was a dream.”

If she were braver, she would have told him about her dreams of him, but instead, she said, “How about I go get a book to read, so I can sit up beside you, while you sleep? I can pull the curtains shut.” 

His nod was relieved, and Christy got up, thinking hard to remember where she’d packed her book. It wasn’t with the others, since she’d been reading it a little each night. A glance over at her husband told her he was still ruminating.

“Ask me what I’m reading,” Christy said, crouching down to rummage through the front pocket of one suitcase.

“What?”

“It’s part of distracting you while I look for my book,” she told him. Standing, she put her hands on her hips. Was it downstairs?

“Fine,” Neil said, his voice still sleepy, but more like his confident self. “What are you reading?”

“Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. It’s a story about four sisters, all very different, and how each of them handle the process of growing up. I loved it when I was younger, and now I’m rereading it to pick out parts to share with the children.” As she spoke, she found the book, drew the curtain, then came back to briskly set things up to sit comfortably beside him.

“You’re an excellent teacher, Christy.”

Praise from him really was worth a hundred kind words from anyone else.