#i might even get on a track to teaching at a university

[simple-and-cozy-life]

It's crazy to me that I'll be spending two years away at grad school and that should hopefully be the end of the grind.

I just want to attend to my future family and play my viola.

And I look forward to being wed in either late 2025 or spring 2026.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 2

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

word count: 2.7k

warnings: we meet jk's friends and tae makes his first appearance (we'll be seeing a lot more of him in future), oc is sick with a cold, jk is a simp and drops everything to make her feel better, lots of fluff, nothing explicit in this one, we find out some more of oc's rules, SATC mentioned, some marvel talk, talk of jk having a nice ass, mostly just lots of soft feels in this one <3

author's note: i'm so happy to see the amount of love part 1 got !!! part 2 is a bit shorter, but i think it's important to see their dynamic outside of the whole fwb thing. i'm aiming for the upcoming parts to be longer, i promise. i hope you enjoy all the feels in this one, and don't be shy to send me your feedback 🫶🏻

find tmhtl masterlist here

Jungkook sits at a table in a rather fancy restaurant, half-listening to his friends as they joke about something over dinner. They've been meaning to get together for a while but they've all been so busy with work and their personal lives that it just never worked out until tonight. Well, it worked out tonight because Taehyung practically forced everyone to come.

"Yo, earth to Jungkook."

He looks over at Jimin with raised eyebrows, realizing he was caught staring at his phone in his lap. He knows he should be paying attention to the conversation happening around him, and he knows that it's rude to be on his phone while he's in company, but he hasn't heard from you all day and usually you would've exchanged words (or funny memes) by now.

It's not that he MUST speak to you all day, every day to survive, but it just happens. If he sees a funny video of a cat on TikTok, he sends it to you. If you forgot how to do something on Excel, you text him and he replies within two minutes to explain how to do it. Sometimes he even goes through the trouble of doing it himself, screen recording it and sending it to you to give you a step-by-step guide. That's just how it goes with the two of you.

"Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was just asking if there's a special someone in your life," Jimin says with a little grin, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

"Actually, what he asked was if you're still on track to die alone," Namjoon quips, Jimin waving him off with a little "eh, same thing".

Jungkook rolls his eyes, flatly denying any romantic relations. It's not like he's lying. He just can't say that he might have started developing feelings for the woman he's casually sleeping with, so he just settles on, "Naah, I'm too busy with work." It's easier.

They know their friend is a terrible liar, but they also know that he would tell them if he really wanted to, so they don't pry. They've heard your name once or twice in passing, a little comment here and there like '___ likes that movie' or '___ uses this perfume'. As far as they know, you're his work friend. That's it. Even Taehyung doesn't know much about you, and he works at the same university as an English Literature lecturer, which brings us to rule #2.

Rule #2: It stays between us. It's just less complicated if less people know, and Jungkook knows that if his friends knew about it, they'd be pestering him about you all night and he doesn't need that right now, especially when his eyes drift back down to his phone and there's still no text from you.

You're in bed, surrounded by snotty tissues and a sleeping Miso, who really couldn't care less that you just underwent a violent coughing fit. You're about to doze off, when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You check the notification, and when you see who it's from, you swear you feel your heart rate rise, but maybe it's just from all the coughing.

prof jeon |7:50pm]: hey, you. prof jeon 17:50pm]: haven't heard from you all day... prof jeon [7:51pm]: are you mad at me bc i said sex in the city was boring??? 👀😭😭

You [7:51pm]: first of all, it's sex AND the city 💀 You [7:52pm]: and it's not boring, you're just a nerd who can't watch anything other than marvel

He laughs, knowing he should've expected that response. Your next message comes through shortly after.

You [7:53pm]: sorry for the radio silence You [7:53pm]: i have a nasty cold 😵‍💫 You [7:53pm]: feel like i was hit by a bus You [7:53pm]: took some cough drops and slept for most of the day

He really shouldn't feel the need to immediately rush to your aid, but he does.

prof jeon [7:53pm]: want me to come over?

You [7:54pm]: you don't have to do that, kook You [7:54pm]: i don't wanna get my germs all over you 😕

prof jeon [7:54pm]: don't be silly   prof jeon [7:54pm]: i’ve had your bodily fluids on me before, who cares about a little snot 😂😂😂   prof jeon [7:55pm]: i can be there in a little bit 

You [7:56pm]: you're gross 🙄 You [7:56pm]: and really nice

prof jeon [7:56pm]: see you in a bit x

He excuses himself from dinner with the excuse of a family emergency and promises his friends to hang out again soon. He grabs his coat and heads out to his car, making a stop at your favourite Thai restaurant for some pho before driving over to your place.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and dragged yourself back to bed as soon as he texted you to let you know he's on his way up. You hear the door open and in walks Jungkook, looking very handsome you might add.

"You're dressed awfully fancy to take care of my cold," you tease with a little smile, your eyes drifting down to the plastic bag in his hand, a bag you know all too well due to countless trips to that specific Thai restaurant. "And you brought food?"

He smiles as he removes his coat and walks over to the side of your bed, placing the pho on your nightstand before sitting down on the edge of the bed, clearly not bothered by the array of tissues scattered around the duvet. Miso sees him and gets up from her spot on the bed, sauntering off to the living room, almost as if she knows her mom is about to get folded like a pretzel again. But Jungkook's not here for that tonight.

"I was actually out at dinner with some friends when I texted you. And I thought you might've been too lazy to get up and actually eat dinner, so I brought soup."

The thought of him dropping his plans with his friends just to come over and take care of you fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Maybe it's just your high temperature. Maybe it's the fact that he's just so kind to you. Whatever the reason may be, you're too sick and weak to fight the soft smile tugging at your lips.

"Thank you, Jungkook."

"Don't thank me. I just didn't want you to drown in your own mucus."

Your laugh makes his heart feel funny, even if it barely managed to escape your sore throat.

He opens the lid of the steaming hot pho and holds a spoonful to your lips. If you were your usual healthy self, you would've told him that you're fully capable of feeding yourself, but you're sick and vulnerable and he has that soft look in his eyes, so you let him feed you the soup. It's warm and a little spicy, and it instantly makes you feel better as it slides down your throat. It's just that good. That, and the fact that he bought it for you and drove all this way to feed it to you.

He makes sure you take any necessary medication and even helps you flip over to lay on your stomach so that he can rub some VapoRub on your back, his hands giving you the comfort you didn't know you so desperately needed.

You aren't used to being taken care of by such a gentle man. He blows on your soup for you so that you don't burn your tongue. He wets a cloth with cold water and lays it on your forehead to bring down your temperature. He touches you like you're some delicate porcelain that could break at any moment. When he lays down with you and runs his fingers through your hair, you don't fight it. When he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, you don't protest like you normally would because rule #3 is no kissing outside of sex but you don't even care right now. You let him take care of you when you normally wouldn't. You allow yourself to be taken care of because it feels too good to overthink.

Jungkook feels a bit selfish for relishing in your current state because it allows him to care for you in your time of need. He would do it for any of his friends because that's the type of person he is, but this is different. This is you, and he would drive for hours and hours to get to you if you ever needed him. He would put everything on hold to be there for you. Hell, he would run into a burning building if you were in there. Because it's you.

He props his head up on his elbow and looks down at you, taking in your fevery flushed cheeks, your heavy-lidded eyes, your stuffy nose, and he thinks that no other woman will ever be as beautiful to him as you. He's not Taehyung. He doesn't teach literature and he doesn't have the best way with words, but he could spend hours writing poetry about the sound of your laugh or how animated you get when you're really passionate about something. He could sit and watch paint dry all day if you sat by his side and did it with him.

Jungkook takes the tv remote from the nightstand to turn on Sex and The City, clicking on a random episode from season 6 and getting comfortable next to you.

"What happened to Sex and The City being boring, hm?" you chuckle, giving him a teasingly pointed look.

"What, you want me to turn it off?"

"No, I just thought you didn't like it."

"But you like it."

You turn your attention back to the tv as a smile threatens to break out on your face, your head turned so that he doesn't see how much that simple response affected you.

He barely remembers the characters' names or much of the plot, but you enjoy the show, so he watches it with you, making comments here and there and even asking questions just so he can listen to your voice as you explain why Carrie Bradshaw does what she does. He mentally pats himself on the back for getting through a good handful of episodes before inevitably getting bored.

When you get up to go to the bathroom, he just can't help himself and turns on one of the Avengers movies, offering you a sheepish grin when you come back and see what's on your tv.

You roll your eyes and get back in bed, watching Iron Man perform a monologue for the millionth time. "Captain America's better."

He gives you a look like you just killed his dog or something, and you already know what's coming.

"Are you insane?! Iron Man is so obviously the best Avenger, ___."

"He doesn't look like Captain America, though."

"He doesn't have to," he scoffs, looking back at the tv. "He's got that whole rich CEO thing going for him. Plus, he's like, a genius."

"Nerds defending nerds, I guess," you tease with a faint smile.

He grins, a hint of smugness in his expression. "Are you saying I'm like Iron Man? Because if you are, that's a huge compliment."

"Iron Man's a bit more of a bad boy," you chuckle, narrowing your eyes at him as you try to think of who he resembles in the Avengers. "You're more...boy next door, kinda like Spider Man."

"Wha- excuse me, I can be a bad boy too if I want," he quips, trying to sound offended, but when you mention Spider Man it kinda makes up for it. "I guess I'll take Spider Man. I do have a nice ass."

You laugh, giving him a puzzled look. "Who said anything about Spider Man's ass?"

"He's like, known for having a great ass. Have you seen him in his suit?"

"So, that's it? That's why you'd make a good superhero? Because you have a nice ass?"

"Well...not just my ass. I'd make a great superhero because...y'know...great power, great responsibility and all that other stuff."

You scoff, shrugging like you can't argue with that.

He's quiet for a while, a full-blown fight scene playing out on the tv, his mind starting to wander a bit.

"You'd be Black Widow. You've got that badass, independent woman vibe," he murmurs, looking over at you with a soft smile.

"You think so?"

"Oh yeah. You're smart, confident, you don't take crap from anyone. Plus, you'd look really hot in the tight outfit." He just can't help himself.

You roll your eyes, softly swatting his bicep. "Of course that's what you think of."

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, feigning innocence. "Hey, what can I say? I'm a man, I like what I like."

And I like you. He can't say it out loud, but acknowledging it is enough for now, and when the cough syrup starts taking effect and your eyes slowly start to droop, he feels content with just having your head on his chest.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Taehyung, and your eyes are barely open when they land on the screen. You didn't even mean to look, it was kinda just an instinctive thing, but you're not interested in his private texts from his friends. What catches your eye is the photo on his lock screen. It's a photo of the two of you from a year ago, both of you making silly faces at the camera. It's a cute photo. If anyone else were to see it, they'd think you're a couple.

“I didn't know that’s your lock screen,” you mumble, your voice a lot sleepier than it was an hour ago.

“Are you snooping?” he teases with a little scoff.

“I didn't mean to look, your phone is kinda in my face from this angle,” you murmur through a soft chuckle, looking down at the photo.

“I like this photo of us.” He smiles when you tap the screen after it goes black, wanting to get another look.

“Coulda used one that I actually look pretty in,” you murmur jokingly, and as the cough syrup drains the last of your consciousness, the last thing you hear is a soft, “But you’re always pretty, ___.”

The next morning, you wake up feeling a little bit disorientated after taking all that cold medicine, blinking a few times to clear your vision. You slowly sit up in bed and check your phone, seeing that it's 10am. You almost think you overslept for work, but you realize it's Sunday. You think back to the night before, the way Jungkook came over and fed you soup, the way he gently put VapoRub on your back and made sure you were well taken care of. You turn your head to find Miso in the spot that Jungkook was in last night, and you would feel disappointed that he’s not there anymore if Miso weren't so damn cute. It's not like you expected him to still be here this morning. After all, staying the night is another boundary you don't cross, and he respects that, which explains why he left a little while after you fell asleep.

You feel that fuzzy feeling in your chest again when you take a better look at what's on your nightstand. Your water bottle stands tall, which Jungkook filled before he left last night, along with a little note from one of the notebooks on your desk.

The note says, 'Hope you're feeling a bit better. Get lots of rest and drink your fluids. Don't worry about falling asleep, Miso made sure I saw myself out. Hope to see you at work tomorrow xx'

You read the note again, and then again. It's simple but thoughtful. He didn't have to write a note. He didn't have to come over last night to tend to your illness, but he did, and you aren't surprised because he's him. That's just what he does.

You think about last night until you have to consciously stop yourself from smiling so much because your cheeks feel a bit stiff. You grab your phone from the nightstand and scroll to his contact, your fingers quickly sliding across the keyboard.

You [10:23am]: thank you for coming over last night, kook You [10:23am]: i owe you fr

prof jeon [10:25am]: you really don't 🙄 prof jeon [10:25am]: i just wanted to be there for you prof jeon [10:26am]: it's what spider man would've done 👀

You [10:26am]: 👁️👄👁️ You [10:26am]: nerd

< Part 1 || Part 3 >

[seat-safety-switch]

When I do my community service, teaching children about how to use tools, they invariably ask me: why so many kinds of screwdriver? Then I have to tell them about why there are so many different kinds of screwdriver. Perhaps you also don't know, because we are adrift in a post-doing-shit era, where we can't find anyone to fix our toilets. I've been pooping at the gas station for weeks.

Nobody really knows when the first screwdriver was invented, but we know the first fossils of early screws date back to the Mesozoic era. Back then, we only had flathead screws, because those were the easiest to turn with whatever was lying around. Coins, dinosaurs, early stratigraphic formations of the Earth itself. These screws were massive, because they hadn't invented the concept of "small" yet.

Hundreds of thousands of years later, the so-called Antipope John XXII invented the Phillips screw. You might wonder why he would name the screws not after himself, but pay attention to all those Xs in the name. Benedict Phillips just came by later and stole the idea, and covered his tracks very poorly. He was later killed by Alessia Torx (no relation) in a duel over the invention of slam poetry. Phillips had a lot going on, let's just leave it at that.

During the French Revolution is when things really started to get spicy for screws. Talented machinists were suddenly cast adrift in a world where they no longer had to take orders from any royalty, and the concept of "authority" now rested inside the beating heart of the noble worker. So they went fuckin' nuts, making whatever fasteners they could think of. Elias Triple-Square, of Vendée, made some particularly poor choices, and then published his findings in a German journal, where Holt Volkswagen made even worse decisions.

All this is to say, all the different screws are because every engineer thinks they're smarter than all the other ones. Even today, as we speak, some asshole is probably inventing a new kind of fastener that will obsolete your so-called "universal" screwdriver set. Maybe one day, you too can be one of those assholes, and leave your mark upon history forevermore.

[munnmolads]

Rafayel didn't want Reddie - Analysis & Theory

Rafayel's intention with Reddie wasn't to take it home. An analysis of Under Deepspace Chapter 1 -07 with Rafayel's first meeting with MC. Contains spoilers from his myths.

As a recap for their first meeting - a small boy comes to MC to ask her to catch a fish for him before "she" finds out, but his friend/sister calls for him and he runs off. As MC looks at the fish, Rafayel comes to meet MC and catches the fish and drops it in the bottle she has on her hands. After some friendly conversation, Rafayel turns to leave before MC asks him to wait and offers the fish back to him.

First of all - I don't believe for a moment that the kids wanted the fish. I do feel that Rafayel did ask the kids to take her to the pool, so he could have an opening with her.

If we look back to this scene, he is smiling the entire time during this interaction until MC offers the fish back to him. He grunts, looks slightly displeased and leaves without saying a word.

From later interactions with Rafayel we know that he does take care of the fish and names it Reddie. He also sometimes mentions about changing the water for it in the cafe, have some phone calls and texts relating to it, so it seems all good, right?

My friend mentioned that Rafayel tells about Reddie that this species only survives a week on land. Considering how many interactions Rafayel has about Reddie, it's staying alive much longer than it probably should be. I'm not sure if Reddie is actually the last Flammula as the advertisement below says, but I assume it's atleast a real fish in the sense that it's not "visional".

Why does this matter? Because Reddie wasn't supposed to come home with Rafayel. He wanted that MC would take Reddie. If we look back to Nightly Stroll, this is what he says about fish:

He mentions this also in Abysswalker as well - fish have important task to fulfill. In Nightly Stroll the fish appears in between Raf's and MC's palms because their promise has the ocean's blessing. It works as kind of a messenger for the ocean.

His intention with Reddie was to give it to MC and keep an eye out for her. And it's not the only time Rafayel uses fish to this purpose.

In Abysswalker myth, Rafayel basically heard her asking the fish if he was going to meet her again and sent her a note, and showed with the fish where to find the note. In Sea God myth he used the fish to guide MC around Lemuria until he stopped her escape, being disappointed she betrayed his trust.

In Addictive Pain anecdote, it's made clear that Rafayel took a year lasting teaching position in MC's university to keep eye out on her, and he even collected information about her in the Nest. As she graduated and started to become a Deepspace hunter, he has no natural ways to keep track of her. This was an attempt for him to sneakily get more information about her - which failed.

I'm not sure if Reddie is actually his creation, as in he created it for this purpose - it's possible. Both the fish in the myths are his creations: the blue, transluscent fishes that he summons several times in the game already (Under Deepspace chapter 2-10, Nightly stroll, Cafe interaction - Gift...). The only differences to Reddie is that it is red and doesn't seem to be an illusion as his blue fish supposedly are. The blue fish float in the air, while the Reddie did have gravity affecting to it.

But I do feel Rafayel might be extending its life somehow - since it was supposed to die a long time ago already. Most likely because how upset it would make MC (and me) if it actually died.

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 3.6 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

six

tuesday, january 28th

you sat on your bed, legs crossed over eachother with your laptop on your lap. your philosphy teacher had given out this assignment friday and you'd been mulling it over the entire weekend.

you stared at the question asked.

what defines 'perfection"? is it a universal concept, or is it deeply personal and subjective? discuss how ideals shape our perceptions and actions.

you'd been staring at a blank page for five days now, unable to come up with anything. it was like writer block's mean older sister, academic block. anything you did come up with was stupid: a stupid attempt at dissecting society's perception of perfection which was boring, everyone was going to do that. another attempt would talk about how perfection didn't exist and though that was true, your writing quickly turned into the whole, 'nothing is real, nothing really matters mumbo jumbo.' so, you scrapped that too.

your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when you felt something being thrown against your head. you flinched and looked at rafe who was sitting there, innocently with his bowl of jellybeans.

"do you know how lucky you are that i've allowed you to eat in my room? and here you are, just taking my kindness for granted," you say and he laughs and waves his notebook up.

it's messy, full of scribbles where he scratches out his mistakes instead of using an eraser. the corners are littered with little things he doodles like footballs and small animals. by now, you could read it all perfectly though, could understand what he meant even when he didn't even remember his own thought process or was unable to read through all the scribbles on his page. "i'm done." he sings and you glance at the time, "23 minutes, record time." you praise as he stands to stretch his legs.

"we're approaching it."

"what are we approaching?"

"the moment when student becomes teacher." he says plainly and you roll your eyes with a stupid grin. "yeah, can't wait." you mutter, eyes flicking back to your screen.

"if i eat anymore of these, i might actually go up a weight group and coach will chop my balls off so i'm gonna go give your brother a sugar rush. be right back." he says and it only dawns on you after a couple of minutes of him being gone that you didn't even flinch at him just meshing in with your family, casually going down to your brother and you could just imagine the smile on your brother's face when he saw rafe, partly because of the jellybeans in his bowl but also because of how much he'd grown to enjoy rafe's presence.

you didn't know whether to be scared or happy.

you glanced at his sweater on your desk, all frumpled up right next to yours, neatly folded.

you looked back at your screen and started typing.

the concept of the ideal: a personal reflection

the concept of the ideal is elusive but also compelling, isn't it?

philosophically, ideals are often framed as unattainable benchmarks, guiding us but forever out of reach. plato’s theory of forms suggests that ideals exist in a realm beyond our physical world, serving as pure, perfect templates against which our imperfect reality is measured. yet, in our daily lives, ideals often take on a more tangible form—not abstract but embodied in people, moments, or emotions.

for me, the ideal feels deeply personal. it's not static or universal but shifts with my experiences and perceptions. i've always thought of 'perfection" as something distant, unreachable, and theoretical, yet recently, i've found myself reconsidering this definition. sometimes, the ideal isn't flawless but deeply flawed in ways that make it real and irresistible.

take, for instance, the idea of the ideal person. philosophers like aristotle argue that virtue and reason define the 'ideal human' but our hearts rarely follow reason. we find ourselves captivated by individuals who challenge our ideals and force us to question whether perfection lies in symmetry or in the cracks and contradictions.

my own life is a perfect example. i used to imagine the ideal as someone who fit a checklist—organized, predictable, and safe. yet lately, i've been drawn to the unpredictable, the messy, the human. there's someone i know who doesn't fit my old definition of perfection, but somehow, they embody something more profound. their laugh is loud and uncontainable, their honesty is sharp and unpolished, but it's real, they're restless and noticeably want more from life, there's a chaos to them that should be maddening but instead, feels like freedom.

perhaps the ideal isn't a fixed destination but a reflection of what we value in the moment. it's fluid, shaped by context, emotion, and the stories we tell ourselves. this realization doesn't make the ideal any less compelling or desirable. if anything, it makes it more so, because it feels within reach—even if only for a fleeting second.

in the end, the concept of the ideal may not be about finding something flawless but about recognizing the beauty in imperfection. it's about the moments, people, or ideas that briefly make us pause and wonder if we've just had a glimpse at something divine.

rafe walks into your room, your little brother in his arms. "that's not what i meant when i said you need a study buddy." you tell him as you close your laptop and rafe pauses from blowing raspberries in his stomach. "you're my study buddy," he says to you before holding your brother up real high and making him giggle up a storm. "this little rascal is our mascotte!" and your mouth hurts from smiling so you turn away from them and start tidying up your room.

"you wanna go somewhere with me?" yes. always, every day, any time. literally anywhere.

"depends on where you want to go." you say and go to pick up your brother who is now waddling to your book shelve and is bound to drop a couple of books on his own head.

"my friends are pestering me about this bonfire." rafe explains as he's putting his hoodie back on. "i kinda stood them up when i went to the retirement home with you last week so they're on my case now. it's close to your house but i can drop you off at home afterwards if you want?"

did he want you to meet his friends? you weren't sure you really wanted that. you had friends that you wouldn't trade for a thing in the world but maybe this was him trying to show you that he did want you in his life for longer than the next four months.

his friends were different than you, liked different things, had different priorities and different interest but ultimately, rafe was one of them and you really liked rafe so who says you wouldn't like them?

"how many people are going?" you ask even though you're already thinking about what you're going to wear and which perfume screams, 'i may be a little bit of a nerd and at times too studious but i know how to have fun when in the right mood.'

he takes your brother from your arms and goes to lie on your bed with him. "i'm actually not sure. hopefully not too many cause all this algebra has me pretty beat."

you're hesitating. you don't know anyone but him and he wasn't even sure if this was a bonfire which would turn into a beach party or a bonfire that would stay just that: a cute little bonfire with less than fifteen people which was totally your vibe. beach party with fifty plus people? not so much.

"but i'll be there," he says like he can feel your hesitation from across the room. you fiddle with the blouse in your hand. "and i won't abandon you." it sounds like a promise and you're a sucker for those.

you turn and nod, "okay, yeah, let's go."

"you're not invited." he says to your little brother, a sad little look on his face. you smile and turn back to your closet to pick an outfit.

you do your best at hiding how nervous you are on the car ride there and rafe doesn't seem to really notice which is good. you want him to think you're normal. just a normal girl who maybe doesn't ever go to parties but isn't about to shit her pants at the thought of one right now.

you look down at your outfit. a little unusual for you and your sister did give you a look when you were leaving but when you hid in the bathroom to search "bonfire outfits" on pinterest, this was what everyone was wearing. the pictures had lots of loose clothing, loose pants and big hoodies which you didn't have much of. the most casual thing you owned were these leggings and your dad's old university hoodie. a pair of sneakers that you bought for the gym membership you never used. they were almost brand new and a tote bag with some essentials. it wasn't that bad, right? you felt that maybe it was too sporty because it was missing those damn loose pants but you didn't have those in your closet.

when you arrived and took a look around, you realised, rafe looked perfect—always—but specifically for the occasion. he blended in seamlessly and what did you see? atleast twenty girls in either bikini's or skirts. you were ready to scream into your pillow. they were wearing sandals which you didn't understand because the sand would get all over them? and bikini's? it was january. that's like one of the coldest months of the year.

either way, whatever you thought made sense didn't matter because you were the one who stood out like a sore thumb, walking over with one of the most stared at people in this town.

the bonfire’s glow grew brighter as you and rafe walked down the sandy path, the muffled sounds of laughter and music getting louder with every step. the air was cool, carrying the faint scent of saltwater and burning wood, and the horizon was painted in deep oranges and reds from the flames licking the sky.

as soon as the two of you stepped into the circle of firelight, it was like a switch flipped. people called out rafe’s name from all directions.

“rafe, my man!” one guy shouted, jogging over with a grin that could rival the flames. a group of girls nearby waved enthusiastically, their voices blending in a chorus of greetings.

“hey, you made it!” a tall blonde clapped rafe on the shoulder, already pressing a cold beer into his hand. “and who’s this?” he asked, eyebrows raised as his gaze shifted to you.

“this is—” rafe started, but you jumped in with your name and a polite smile.

“right, right, the tutor!” the guy said, giving a quick nod before motioning toward the group gathered near the fire. “come on, everyone’s over here. there’s drinks and snacks if you want.”

as you approached, more introductions followed.

"guys, look who's graced us with his presence!" the guy who was obviously already drunk said to the group sitting around together.

"rafe!"

"what's up, cameron."

"and you brought a friend.."

the girl who said that didn't seem too pleased but before you could let it simmer in your mind too long, rafe started talking. "i'm gonna do a very quick round of introductions, just try to keep up and remember no one expects you to really remember these names." he says and the guy cuts in, "except my name, i fully expect to be remembered." he grins making the group laugh. you smile when rafe starts, "this pestering moron that has been attached to my hip since elementary school is topper," rafe introduces him first and topper does a little bow.

"then we have, kelce, cleo, adriana, jj, pope, kiara, john b and cora." he points at each person and you recognize most of them from school and almost all the boys seem to be on the soccer team. you knew without a doubt that adriana and cora were cheerleaders because of the pep rallies.

"so, you're the girl who's been keeping rafe so busy." so busy? you saw him twice a week. they got him for five, that sounded like a really sweet deal to you.

"honestly, it's the opposite. she's got better shit to do then tutor me." rafe says before you can and you feel a wave of relief come over you that you aren't totally being put on the spot here.

"right because you're student body president, right?" one of the girls, cleo, you think, says. for some reason, it excites you that she knows you, that these people know anything about you. you never cared before but you wanted rafe's friends to like you or at least, not hate you.

"yes, that's me." you smile and tuck your hands into the pockets of your hoodie when you feel a sudden breeze. "shit, you're number 1, aren't you?" one of the other guys suddenly says and you tilt your head, frowning in confusion. "your class rank." he clarifies and it dawns on you what he means, you nod and hope they don't feel like you're bragging.

"she's also number 1 for grade rank." rafe says it proudly and your heart warms at the thought of him even remembering that. "wait, what's class rank? what's grade rank?" you think his name is kelce but you aren't sure.

"you know that number right in the corner of your report card that says 'rank: 410'? with her it says 'rank: 1" because she performed the best in our grade. you can try to guess what yours means." kiara explained while the others were already laughing at kelce's rank number.

"i've been trying to beat you since sophomore year." the same guy who pointed out that you were number one speaks again.

"pope is number two." jj says before putting a joint between his lips and your eyes go wide, "wait, so," you pause and turn to rafe. "this whole time, pope could have been helping you with algebra!?" you're happy he didn't but still, the idea didn't dawn on them?

"he didn't want to help me!" rafe laughs and looks at pope who's quick to defend himself, "woah, woah! i tried to help him! he's the worst student!"

"false accusations, you just don't explain it the way she does."

"what? she's better than me?" pope laughs astonishedly.

"well, we know she's better than you. you're number two." topper says mockingly as he wraps an arm around rafe's shoulder.

pope's eyes briefly close as if it actually pained him but he's smiling so you know it didn't. "low blow, thornton."

"okay, how about another round!" one of the cheerleaders said and opened the cooler to distribute more beers.

they handed rafe another one almost immediately, while kiara held out a cup toward you.

“drink?” she asked, her smile warm.

“oh, no thanks. i don’t drink,” you said casually, shaking your head.

the reaction was instantaneous. every conversation in your immediate vicinity paused as heads turned toward you. “wait, what?” john b asked incredulously, and cora chimed in, “not at all?”

kiara blinked at you, still holding the cup as if you’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “you don’t drink? like, ever?”

you laughed nervously, feeling the weight of their stares. “yeah, um, i just don’t. it’s a personal choice, but also, i’ve read a lot about what alcohol does to the brain. it slows down neurotransmitters, messes with your decision-making, and—” you paused when you realized they were all still staring at you like you were speaking another language. “anyway, it’s just not my thing.”

an awkward silence settled over the group for half a second too long. then, rafe cleared his throat, stepping in smoothly. “she’s got a point,” he said, holding up his beer. “matter of fact…” without hesitation, he set it down on a nearby log. “guess i’m not drinking tonight either.”

a few eyebrows rose at that, but no one questioned it. instead, someone cracked a joke about who was going to give rafe a hard time for being sober, and just like that, the conversation shifted seamlessly to the music playing in the background. the tension evaporated as the group resumed their chatter, and the attention shifted away from you.

"you don't have to do that." you tell rafe and he's shaking his head, moving to sit on a log near the fire. "it's all good. i'm very worried about my..neuro..things.." he says slowly as if he's trying to guess the world. you giggle, "neurotransmitters." you correct and he nods, "that, and i'm driving you home so i shouldn't drink anyway." he did have a point.

rafe stayed with you for a while but then more and more people showed up and the music only got louder and topper forced rafe up to his feet and they were gone, disappearing in the crowd with big smiles on their faces.

"so, if you don't drink, i'm assuming, you don't smoke either?" kiara was suddenly asking and you smiled small, shaking your head. "then what's your poison?" cora asks and you guess you don't really have one.

"i.. don't think i have one.." you say and see adriana's brows go up. "how bland." she says flatly. you weren't sure when it became uncool to not be addicted to substances but for some reason, your lips wouldn't move to defend yourself. "shut up, adriana. no one asked." cleo tells her and adriana's rolling her eyes and walking away. cora follows her. "she's not usually like that. she's been in a mood for a while." john b suddenly says before he's shrugging and facing the sky again, joint between his lips.

"it’s perfectly normal. pope is the same way. the only thing pope can’t get enough of is…" kiara trails off, gesturing somewhere far behind them.

you follow her gaze, squinting into the distance until you just barely make out pope and jj—practically attached at the lips.

“oh, i didn’t even realize they were—”

“they’re not,” john b interrupts, cutting a glance toward the scene with a faint grimace. “jj’s a freak about commitment.”

kiara smiles sadly, but you can’t help the way your brain immediately starts connecting the dots. “well, that actually makes sense,” you blurt out, drawing their attention. “there’s a 2017 study in personality and social psychology bulletin that suggests people who have commitment issues often have a stronger sensitivity to rejection. it’s not that they don’t want connection—it’s more like they’re wired to perceive potential threats in intimate relationships, so they avoid them altogether.”

cleo, john b and kiara blink at you, a mix of disbelief and faint amusement in their expressions.

"why does that sound like something pope would say?" cleo gasped with a smile.

"i was about to say!" kiara laughs and john b perks up, “god, you and pope really are a match made in nerd heaven,” he says, rolling his eyes.

kiara shoves his arm and tells him to be quiet before turning back to you. “so what’s the science on why you’re always blurting out facts?”

“probably an overactive prefrontal cortex,” you joke, earning a laugh from kiara who shakes her head, "we have no idea what that means!"

you have to admit, the bonfire is fun and apart from adriana, you felt okay about everyone. rafe popped in and out a couple of times but you didn't expect him to stay by your side the entire time either. everyone here seemed to want to talk to him so you stayed with kiara and cleo and even danced a little. it was fun but you were ready to go. it was still a school night. you only gave yourself this much time because you were having fun and you finished your essay.

you had briefly seen rafe with cora and she was standing by the makeshift bar, opening a can of beer. you lightly tap on her shoulder and she whips around, "oh..hey." she says and you ignore her complete disinterest in you. "hi, i'm looking for rafe. i saw him with you a couple of minutes ago but then i lost him again."

"oh..he's.." her voice trails off and she's quiet for a moment, eyes almost examining you. "over there." she points behind some wooden beach bar that was closed. however, you could see people surrounding it so you thanked her and walked over to beach bar, grateful to be standing on some solid land.

you didn't see him immediately and started to wonder if cora hadn't sent you here just to get you out of her sight. you sigh, pulling out your phone as you walk to dial his phone number even though the chances of him hearing his phone were slim.

that’s when you saw him—or them. rafe was leaning casually against the ledge, adriana tucked between his legs like she belonged there. they weren’t kissing, but somehow, it felt worse. their faces were so close, lips barely grazing as they exchanged soft words and easy laughter. the way they smiled at each other made it clear: they were flirting, and neither of them cared who saw it.

you couldn’t stop staring. for a split second, your mind flashed back to all the times rafe had said something to you—his teasing comments, the way his smile lingered just a little too long. you’d wondered if he was flirting with you, or if you were just reading too much into it.

but now you were sure. because the way he was looking at her? it was the same way he’d looked at you.

your stomach twisted, an ache blooming in your chest that you didn’t want to name. you turned quickly, forcing yourself to walk back toward the party, your footsteps heavy and unsteady. that’s when you saw cora, standing there like she’d been waiting for you.

her smile wasn’t kind. it was small and pitying, laced with something sharper. “don’t worry, they’re just friends,” she said, her tone light but somehow cutting.

your lips parted to respond, but she wasn’t done. her next words hit you like a slap. “it’s a different girl every day with him. but hey, maybe next time it’ll be you.”

for some ridiculous, stupid reason, there were tears threatening to spill from your eyes. you blinked them back furiously, refusing to let them fall. you weren’t about to cry over a guy who, a month ago, barely knew your name. no way.

without another word to cora—or anyone—you kept walking. past the party, past the noise, past the place that suddenly felt suffocating. the whole way home, you blinked those tears away, again and again, the lump in your throat tightening with every step.

by the time you reached your door, the ache in your chest had dulled, but it hadn’t disappeared. you let out a shaky breath, swearing silently to yourself that this would be the last time you let rafe cameron get to you.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

[blkkizzat]

Mmm prof sukuna is just...yummy. I can't even.

But since we're doing this, Prof Gojo. He teaches theoretical physics. Your major required you to take it. So you do, your senior year of undergrad. But you're an experimental physics kinda person. So you argue with him day and night. So it surprises you when you're a grad student that he seeks you out to bounce ideas off of. He invites you to join a collaboration. He introduces you to people. This man is not your advisor, but he's always creating an opportunity for you. Eventually, your going to dinner meetings with him and several other professors from the department. You're surprised to learn they ALL think you're his girlfriend. And he doesn't deny it. In fact, he just smirks and changes the subject. Now no matter who you deny it to, they all just say that you don't have to pretend and that it's not that weird. Except now, no one asks you out. Because they all think you're taken. You ask Satoru to clear things up and he just says to let it pass. The more you deny it, the worse it'll get. Eventually, eventually, you just give up and hang around him like normal. You're getting good opportunities out of it and he's a really good friend. Even if he is a theoretical physicist. But it all changes after you defend your dissertation. He comes and listens and afterward takes you for ice cream, and he kisses you. he tells you he was waiting until you weren't a student anymore. You're flabbergasted. And a little mad cause you barely get laid for two and a half years cause everyone you met on campus thought you were dating this man and time off campus was rare. But fear not cause you decide to get even. You demand he make up for all 30 months you went without.

Side note: geto is def an English prof right? And Nanami is math?

- 🧠

🧠 nonny! pookies you eating with these! also prof geto is most def english, philosophy or anthro 100% and I can totally see prof nanami as math or he might be a dr on the md track and be your like attending when ur a resident kdhfkshfa.

prof gojo is really cute. i like how he played the long game and waited. i was surprised cause i didnt think he'd have it in him to do it but it make sense he could here if everyone thought you were dating already lefhdsdlkfhudslkfh. lmfao watch he's like fanning the flames himself behind your back.

ahhh wait i can't leave out my husband... even though i do NOT see him as an academic lmfao at all. buuuut WALK WITH ME HERE... professor toji of sports medicine.

prof toji happened to fall into the role more than anything. a former olympian he has over a dozen gold metals, the highest ever for a single person in japan and the first person to ever participate—let alone win in multiple categories. his physical prowess is a wonder to modern science and its purely his obsession with to being at his physical peak that drives him into academia so he could learn more about his body after being disillusioned with 'incompetent' personal trainers and physical therapist, taking his care into his own hands. prof toji now retired was practically begged to come to the university to teach. he teaches one class but mostly heads sports medicine at a university with a medical center where he trains and conditions sports athletes—you happen to be his TA/assistant, a former promising gymnast olympian but sidelined due to a wrist that never healed right. Toji is annoyed by you at first, brash disposition and a widower, he's not very personable at all. but one day you happen to be with him when his nanny has an emergency and drops a young 5 year old megumi off at his offices early. prof toji has to evaluate the swimmers in 20 minutes and it be too dangerous to take him to the pools, so you offer to watch him and toji, while skeptical has no choice but to let you. prof toji is quite shocked upon his return to find you in the aerobics area and megumi actually laughing—you taught him summersaults and he can almost do a cartwheel without falling over. he hasn't seen him laugh like that since his mom passed. prof toji feels indebted to you now and he hates that so he offers to take a look at your wrist even though you say theres 'nothing that can be done' which prof toji scoffs at. It takes a minor surgery and almost a year of physical therapy, strict diet and training regimine at his directive but your wrist actually heals!

fast forward 2 years and you are actually at the olympics! a bit older for the category but due to the immaculate physical therapy and training from prof toji you manage to get gold by mere fractions of points! taking it from the current champion of the last 3 years! prof toji is the first one to catch your eye when your scores are announced and when you flew into his arms out of gratitude he couldn't help the passionate kissed that followed as he literally kissed you for the first time in front of the whole world!

OMFGBFKSDHFKVA WAIT I ACTUALLLY ATE WITH THIS I ATE SO FUCKING HARDLJCSDLKJFHDSKJB I GOTTA WRITE THIS... NO STAWP I ALREADY HAVE TOO MCUHDFHSDJKCBK. WHO WANTS ME TO WRITE THIS?!

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE CHOI FAMILY HEADCANONS

I seriously pray for you if you're related to Charles or Crystal in some way, your privacy is immediately thrown out of the damn window and you won't ever have a moment to yourself since you'll always have your sister Crystal looking out for you and Charles would make sure Gun, Goo and DG keep an eye out for you too. He'd even ask Kouji to place a tracking device in your phone and ensure he always has access to whatever you're doing on your phone, he's a concerned parent after all and he doesn't trust this toxic world filled with darkness that could corrupt you and put you in danger. Look, he might be a complete scumbag and takes the pleasure of ruining people's lives but you're the apple of his eye and he'll do anything to ensure your safety

Let's start off with Charles Choi as a parental figure for you. He'll be controlling, manipulative and won't be above gaslighting you to spend time with him. He's a businessman after all, he's Elite, when he wants something he gets it no matter what and you're no exception for it. He NEEDS to know what you're doing at every second of the day, he doesn't care how old you are, you could be a literal adult and yet he'd still treat you like a child and infantize you. He's overbearing with his protectiveness for you, you almost feel suffocated in his presence. But you won't even realize he's secretly gaslighting you and making sure you're isolated from other people other than him and your sister and the people that he really trusts, he's really crafty and subtle about this. It's for your own good, he keeps telling himself as he threatens and blackmails one of your so called friends to leave you the hell alone unless they want to end up on the news the next day dead. He doesn't care if he's overbearing for you, he has every RIGHT to be overbearing, truthfully, he doesn't even realize what he's doing is wrong. He firmly believes that he has every right to do this since you're his child after all and he's your guardian and parental figure

He likes it when you rely on him for things, deep down he's slightly worried and nervous you'll grow up too fast and leave him and your sister behind and you won't need him anymore. He can't stand and fathom the thought of you being away from him, his paranoia for your safety and fear of losing you would act in an overdrive. Charles Choi has only one weakness and that's you, the dear apple of his eye. He sees you as some defenseless vulnerable innocent little thing that would get chewed up by the world within mere seconds and he'd be damned if someone dared to take advantage of you. It doesn't matter even if you know how to fight or how well aware you are of everything happening around you, he'll still pat your head in a patronizing manner like you're some kind of child and have a slight amused smirk while you're ranting to him. Silly naive child, you NEED him to take care of you

You won't be allowed to live a normal lifestyle, you'll have private tutors to teach you and the day he'll allow you attend a public school or university would be the day HELL would FREEZE over. He knows what sort of nonsense takes place in schools and universities these days with all those cases of rampant bullying and such. He doesn't want you falling into the hands of some lowly thug with no decorum. Of course, he'd have him killed that same night but still, he isn't going to take the risk and chance of having you get hurt. Your safety matters more than your happiness, you could plead with him as much as you want regarding you wanting to go to a public school to have a normal life and he'd just outright refuse you each and every single time, it's like you're talking to a brick wall with him. By no means is he an emotional man, he has no time for such frivolous nonsense but it just doesn't sit right with him when he imagines you getting hurt and getting scars as thoughts of the worst would flash his mind when he thinks of your life at a public school which would make him even more strict about your safety. He never wants to see the day you cry, it would just...pain him emotionally. If you're crying because of him, it was probably because of something unavoidable and he'll gently shush you and wipe your tears away as he pats your head. However if you're crying because of someone else, well...that person would disappear off the face of the earth, he goes straight for the kill. He's a man of his word and always gets straight to the point without beating around the bush, so one single shot to the head to end whatever lousy scumbag who dared to make your tears spill from your eyes would guarantee him to be dead. Surprisingly he won't let anyone else do his dirty work for him whenever he has to kill someone for messing with you, he needs to feel the satisfaction of watching the light of the world and the life leave the person's eyes as he kills them. Of course, he'll cover the death up by making it look like there was some kind of gang violence going on and blame one of his chess pawns and pay off the police department to keep their mouths shut unless they want to lose their jobs and get blacklisted from every company existing

He loves to spoil you till your heart desires. Ask him whatever you want, except for your privacy and freedom and he'd be more than happy to indulge his expenses for you. You like reading and publishing books? Well, look who managed to get a publishing contract from one of the most famous publishing companies in the country? But of course, you're not allowed to publish anything questionable like romance and such, he thinks you're way too naive for such things and you're young for it. You're also not allowed to use your real name. You're also expected to show him your works before you end up publishing something and of course, you won't need to feel the pressure of the publishers and editors pestering you constantly for new works, you can write at your own leisure. Not unless they want their company to shut down and be on the streets for the rest of their miserable lives. He'll never entertain the idea and thought of someone every daring to dictate your life. Other than him of course, he has that right thanks to his twisted mindset of keeping you safe. You like singing and music? He'll get you the best brands of instruments money can buy and a whole karaoke system for you. He'd love to hear you sing and would have a smile on his face, telling you how proud he is of you for your wonderful and melodious singing, he thinks you sing as sweet as a nightingale. Well, in a way you are a nightingale trapped in a golden cage. If you're into art he'll get you the best quality of brushes and you'll have an unlimited amount of canvases and art supplies for your use. You'll have an entire art studio at the house for yourself and he'll be pleased when you hand him a painting or one of your art works. He would definitely store all your works in a secret room to ensure they don't get ruined and where he'll have access too since other people don't deserve to see your talent, they're undeserving pests who don't have the right to look at you in the eye

You won't ever get wind of what he does behind the scenes regarding the crews and gangs and how he rose to power and such and he'll do whatever the hell it takes to prevent you from finding out the truth about him. You'll be left in the dak regarding all the evil messed up things he does and unless someone wants to lose their tongue, they'd better keep their mouths shut. Also there's no reason for you to work, whatever do you want to work for, don't be silly. However if you really want to work, he make you join his company and you can have your own office just for the sake of it but no actual responsibilities. If you think of applying for jobs elsewhere, he'll pull in some strings to ensure you don't end up getting the job. He doesn't care that he's sabotaging your chances of getting a job, you aren't allowed to be away from him, away from your family, end of discussion

While Charles would handle the killings and brutal stuff, your sister Crystal handles the planning and goes for a more calculated approach from behind the scenes. If you have the habit of maintaining a diary, guess who knows all your secrets now and you've also just sentenced half the people in your diary to death. Look, she loves you and cares for you, in her own twisted manner after all, she inherited her father's possessiveness and obsessive tendencies to protect you after all. Like her dad, she views you as someone who's pure for this world and she wants to keep you sheltered in a safe bubble by whatever means necessary. She might love you but the minute you're up to something she will immediately snitch on you to Charles. Don't ever expect her to take your side though during an argument regarding your feelings of being trapped and such, she'll always side with her dad no matter what and thinks he's doing the right thing by shielding you from the world outside. You'll understand in due time how much they love you

If someone picks on you, she'll find a way to ruin their life socially by spreading allegations and such against that person and ensure their name gets dragged down in the mud. Which honestly isn't a hard thing to do for her. She is borderline insane and crazy, she just masks it like her dad, she'll be breathing down your neck every damn second of the day and she'll always have her eye on whatever you do. She'll have Gun and Goo follow you everywhere and she'll tag along as well. You're not allowed to go anywhere without her. She'll also be able to detect whenever you're lying, her eyes will narrow instantly and stare at you with a stern look on her face like a strict parent till she finds out whatever your intentions are and if they're something she and her dad won't approve of they're shutting it down immediately before that thought of yours can grow into something bigger. Even she has access to your laptop and phone, although the only contacts you're ever allowed to have are your dad, her, Gun, Goo, Kouji and DG, that's IT. Don't even THINK about dating, romance is off the table for you

You might not know about the secret of her two bodies, she prefers to keep it that way and her dad told her to let it remain a secret as well, it'll make it easier for her to be with you at all times. She's experienced a lot of bullying from people because of her weight and thinks society is shallow for prioritizing people's looks and appearances which is why she doesn't want you suffering the same way she did and she'll tell you things that'll give you a negative view of romance. She just doesn't want you getting hurt like she did, she's a protective big sister trying to keep you safe. She won't like it if you hang around Daniel too much, he's always getting in some or the other kind of trouble and the last thing she needs is for you to end up being dragged into his messes and the whole crew nonsense so she'll ensure you maintain a distance from him till she sneakily isolates you from him completely. Don't feel bad, you have her to rely on, your sister is always there to lend a shoulder for supporting you. Overall, Charles and Crystal are borderline insane, psychotic and won't hesitate to wipe out anyone who stands against them or tries to take you away from them. You're the apple of their eye after all...

[catscraftsandcommentary]

So I had some time to think tonight at work (in between operating heavy machinery, swearing at the materials, and trying to keep the line running, fun times!) And I asked myself, "self, hypothetically, what might @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU look like in another generation or two - once people really get used to witchers being The Good Guys (TM) and helping out?"

And I was like "well, they'd probably get invited to social events - ooh! Who'd like which events best?!? What would that look like?"

Geralt, as we all know, detests anything too formal or Warlord-focused. He enjoys weddings and receptions, but his TRUE favorite is baby christenings. Seriously. Put him in a room with a tiny baby and he's happy as a clam. He'll happily growl away (or weaponize his puppy-dog eyes against) grannies, aunties, and other family members to hold the baby for as long as possible. He's also 90% of the reason that witchers are now rumored to be able to bless babies.

When Mouse and Treyse bring this new rumor to the council, everyone has to just sit. And process for a minute. Because what the ever-loving fuck?!? (Jaskier immediately writes the sweetest lullaby ever, "A Witcher's Blessing", and it is the ONLY song that Geralt ever sings in public, and only ever to babies and small children. Multiple women blame this for their immediate conceptions.)

Jaskier adores weddings and festivals of all types, and if a happy couple includes details of how they met and/or fell in love with their wedding invitation, there's at least a 50% chance that he'll show up to the wedding with a personalized love song, holy shit.

Ciri loves tourneys. Loves watching them, loves displaying in them, loves sneaking into competing in them (omg, heir, NO), loves WINNING them. She's a menace. She has various stealth coats of arms that she rotates between when she's not supposed to be competing, but her favorite is the battle goose. Obviously.

Eskel doesn't like crowds or being the center of attention, which are almost inevitable with public invitations, but he does enjoy being the +1 for his family. Several of his and their interests overlap, and even where they don't, he likes to see them enjoying themselves.

Yennifer becomes well-known as an extremely efficient - albeit terrifying - treaty negotiator. She'll talk to both sides, get a list of their must haves, deal-breakers, would-likes, and don't-wants (as well as - perhaps more importantly - the reason why each of those are on that particular list). Then she draws up a draft and viciously negotiates a compromise. She is genuinely surprised the first time that both sides thank her for her help.

Vesemir, with all his long years of teaching, loves visiting schools and seeing any sort of student performance or sporting event. Kindergarten to university, drama to music to dance recitals to track and field meets to football games to student symposiums to science contests to... He buys out bake sales and funds club field trips and donates several fortunes worth of antique knick knacks to various schools. He's invited as a guest lecturer, a commencement speaker, a competition judge, a referee.

Lambert and Aiden, at some point, discover bachelor's parties, call dibs, and never look back. People learn very quickly not to invite witchers to their stag nights unless they want the entire party to get horrifyingly drunk - but at least Lam and Aiden will make sure that everyone makes it home (or to the wedding) safely. Perhaps not soberly, or sans hangover, but definitely without major injury. (And if the bride asks nicely and the groom and friends weren't total jerks, Lambert can usually be counted on to make a hangover cure. He really is a softie at heart.)

Dragonfly and Serrit get tapped for the odd bachelorette party or ladies' birthday parties. Anything that falls under "I want to be able to drink and party with my friends without worrying about some strange guy hurting one of us." They are extremely protective and have both been drunkenly proposed to several times. (Livi finds this terribly amusing. Gweld just wants to know if he can watch.) Milena and Zofia sometimes go with them.

Milena loves going to wedding showers and baby showers, but outside Kaer Morhen, she has to stay in sight of Lambert or one of his brothers. Lambert's rule. (She got KIDNAPPED, okay? He's allowed to worry!) Usually she'll take Geralt (there might be babies! He's excellent protection!) or Eskel (he's very quiet and has excellent manners, and his signs are impossible to fight) for the more, ah, female-heavy events. If anyone asks, they're her brother-in-law and genuinely like spending time around kids. And very, very married.

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for September 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ I long for that feeling to not feel at all by @ineverateakiwi [NR, 2k, Louis/Harry]

When he is not around and Harry needs to feel more grounded, steady on his own feet, he thinks of Louis. It's probably not healthy to rely on someone this heavily, but it's better than nothing. It's what he has right now. And, right now, it's working. Is thinking about that feeling, the feeling of being real, being alive, that he whispers – without thinking – those two words. — "Hurt me."

Harry needs to feel something, even if it's pain. Louis gives what he needs.

＊ where the real you is the superstar by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [T, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Louis has lived in his tiny beachfront town his whole life, and doesn't know if he'll ever leave. Harry is constantly moving around, but when he meets Louis, he can't help wishing this could be the place he might stay. Just because the summer is temporary doesn't mean it's not worthwhile.

＊ Just a Little Taste, Babe by @allwaswell16 [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Harry’s been pining over Louis Tomlinson since their sixth form days. Now, he’s backstage at Louis’ concert and trying not to embarrass himself.

＊ make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face by localopa / @voulezloux [E, 24k, Harry/Louis]

things could be worse. harry doesn’t know what could be worse than being forced to do a tell-all interview with his ex friends with benefits that he still harbors feelings for, the only person he could ever see a future with, the person who truly hates him so much, he can’t help but hate him right back. but surely, worse things have happened at sea, right?

＊ Necessities of Nesting by @haztobegood [G, 5k, Louis/Harry]

“I know this is a sensitive topic and you probably don’t want to talk about your nest with me. But I have a friend that teaches nesting classes. Maybe they could help.”

“So you agree: my nest sucks and I’m a shit omega.”

＊ A Tight Space by haztobegood [T, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Niall pushes the bedroom door open. A huge mass of brown fur bolts between his legs. Louis startles with a hand to his chest.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Oh, that’s the cat. I told you Liam found a stray a few days ago. That’s him.”

“Are you sure that’s a cat?”

＊ The Grundy County Corn Maze Incident by haztobegood [T, 2k, Niall/Greg James]

Niall was getting tired and a bit worried about actually getting out of the corn maze. He had lost track of time and the fun was wearing off. Then, he heard someone shout for help. Part 3 of Grundy County Incidents

＊ Special Instructions by haztobegood [T, 2k, Zayn/Louis]

He didn’t mean for the drawings to become a thing. But they have. Every Tuesday night around eight o’clock, a take out order from Louis T. appears. Each order has new special instructions, requesting some change to the carefully curated dishes that Zayn has concocted. And every Tuesday night, Zayn doodles a response to those special instructions.

＊ A Wrench and a Rodent by haztobegood [T, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Louis just wants to study astrophysics, do some research, and graduate from Casper University. Fate throws a wrench in his plans.

＊ Language Of A Petal by @bittersweetsin [E, 15k, Harry/Louis]

“Wait, you're reading Divin-“

“-Divined Souls? Yup,” Harry finishes for him.

Starving off a grin, Louis says, “Have you actually been stalking me all this time and just lied about not knowing me?”

“Guess we’ll never know.”

or Louis is a librarian, and Harry comes in all the time to return books he’s finished reading. Every time Louis opens the book to check for any damages, there’s always a flower hidden in between one of the pages, specifically on a paragraph that has a deep meaning.

＊ Come and See My Dreams by @lululawrence [NR, 3k, Louis/Harry]

In a world where alphas traditionally built nests as part of the courting rituals for their omegas and rarely outside of that, Louis felt drawn to nest for his best friend from the time he was young.

Now, it was finally time to present the nest to Harry.

＊ a moon, a rainbow, and a carnation by lululawrence [NR, 8k, Louis/Oscar Isaac/Pedro Pascal]

“I swear they’re secretly dating or maybe even married at this point and are just trying to see how long they can keep it under wraps or something. Not quite sure what the deal is, honestly, but they swear up and down that they’re just friends whenever anyone asks.”

Louis chuckled. “Too bad. I’d have happily gone after either one of them, honestly.”

“Or both,” Calvin said, waggling his eyebrows.

Or the five times Louis, Pedro, and Oscar have incredible chemistry and the one time they finally admit to the feelings.

＊ 'Cause What I Want Came True by lululawrence [NR, 1k, Louis/Diego Luna]

Diego had been… unexpected. From the moment that Louis had walked into the coffee shop and seen him sitting there, he was surprised. He’d known Diego was attractive, the few photos he had shared on the dating app had made that clear, but there was something about seeing him in person that made him feel… more.

＊ (Whoops) Here We Go Again by lululawrence [NR, 4k, Louis/Oscar Isaac]

“I’ve got you,” Oscar said as he confidently hit the eight for Louis.

Nodding his thanks as he shyly tucked himself into the corner so the others who needed to could exit easily on their own floors, then Louis sucked his lips into his mouth in an attempt to cover his smile.

It didn’t mean anything, because of course it didn’t. They’d shared an elevator a few mornings a week for months now, but still. He remembered.

Or the one where Louis and Oscar have been seeing each other regularly on the elevator at work for almost nine months. Maybe it’s time for something to finally happen between them.

＊ Duck Crossing by lululawrence [NR, 2k, Louis/Diego Luna]

“So, what exactly are we doing?”

Diego’s brows rose in surprise at the same time Louis started hearing what sounded like quacking. “You don’t know?”

Louis scrunched his nose a bit and looked over towards where the quacking seemed to be getting louder. “I don’t. My sister sent me to the discord without explaining what was so special about the town’s ducks, and when I went to ask about it, I somehow got roped into helping you here tonight instead, so…”

Diego laughed before he looked up and down the road, where several cards were still making their way around. “This is going to be fun for you, then.”

＊ Curiosity by @hellolovers13 [G, 934 words, Louis/Harry]

Fae Harry lets curiosity get the best of him.

Human Louis is intrigued.

＊ Sweetest Poison (series) by @hellolovers13 [E, 7k, Harry/Louis]

It takes all his willpower to keep Harry from devouring it all now. Consume the raw energy that flows through it. Let it become part of him. Let it fuel and rejuvenate him.

But it’s too soon.

or Nothing like starting the day with a little bloodshed.

And coffee.

The barista is cute, too.

or Witch Harry finally gets rid of his latest boy toy. Who will be next?

＊ The Nest by Blue_Green28 / @bluegreen28fics [T, 5k, Harry/Louis]

Harry is a very particular omega who doesn't like to have items of Louis' in his nest until he secretly starts to steal them for it. or, 5 times one of Louis' personal items is missing and 1 time he finally finds them. (5+1 fic for Week 1 of Wordplay Challenge, Prompt: "Nest")

＊ Perfect Now by Blue_Green28 [E, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Timestamp for "We Are World Class" Harry gets frustrated because he wants to wear his wedding suit to the Oscars. After his second pregnancy the trousers don't fit anymore. Louis tries to reassure him that he still looks beautiful. Part 2 of World Class Universe

＊ You make me strong by Blue_Green28 [T, 3k, Harry/Louis]

While Louis is carrying the happiness of Great Britain on his shoulders during the European Championships finale, Harry is carrying something else. (Week 3 of Wordplay Challenge 2024, Prompt: Carry // Time stamp for "We Are World Class", can be read without knowing it) Part 3 of World Class Universe

＊ Home by Blue_Green28 [E, 3k, Louis/Harry]

Louis comes home after his festival tour.

＊ Kiwi - It's your business! by Blue_Green28 [E, 22k, Harry/Louis]

When ex-boybander Louis Tomlinson asks newcomer Harry Styles to be his support act for the next leg of his tour, he has no idea that he will gain more than just a support act. or, the one with the banter on tour

＊ Nest by @kingsofeverything [G, 100 words, Harry/Louis]

Harry wakes up first.

＊ Tight by kingsofeverything [NR, 100 words, Louis/Harry]

Louis comes home early.

＊ Carry by kingsofeverything [NR, 100 words, Harry/Louis]

Baby bump.

＊ Press by kingsofeverything [E, 100 words, Louis/Harry]

Louis asks for it.

＊ now that we're alone (say you hate me) by 28goldensfics / @28goldens [E, 18k, Harry/Louis]

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are Co-Project Managers, constantly bickering at work, always finding themselves at odds, and competing to be the best. When a scheduling mishap with their company’s timeshare forces them to share a summer vacation, they're less than thrilled. But, as they navigate their time together, they realize that their animosity might be masking something a bit deeper than the hate.

＊ my sun, my everything by 28goldensfics / @28goldens [E, 5k, Louis/Harry]

based on the top harry fic fest prompt:

41 - Louis has been making a lot of self-deprecating jokes lately and Harry is sick of it. Ensue Harry worshiping Louis’ body like it’s his favorite god.

“You’re like a god,” Harry said softly, his voice reverent and full of wonder as he pressed a chaste kiss to the peak of Louis’ cheek which caused his eyes to shut gently. “Every part of you is so divine.”

Louis' eyes fluttered open, a mix of surprise and coyness in his gaze. “You think so?”

Harry nodded with absolute sureness, his hands moving slowly to undress Louis. He strategically unbuttoned Louis' shirt, his touch lingering beneath the fabric as if to savor each exposed inch of skin he revealed.

“Your body is a fucking masterpiece,” Harry murmured, his breath warm as he leaned to press a kiss against Louis’ bare chest. “Every curve, every line—it’s all so perfect.”

＊ Do You Know Who You Are? by @eulogiseme [M, 145k+, wip, Harry/Louis]

Doncaster was meant to be a fresh start for Harry, a chance to let go of his past and start a new life. But it doesn’t feel like it when Harry finds himself tormented by the arrival of Louis Tomlinson. Cocky, confident, and a huge flirt, Louis can’t keep away from Harry no matter what Harry says.

Upon his return, Louis is occupied with starting his business with Zayn and dealing with his family’s illegal business. Things start to get messy when Louis is conned by a dealer, and also can’t seem to get a certain pair of green eyes and dimples out of his head.

The one where Louis wants Harry, and Harry doesn’t know what he wants, or who he is. Though, he can take a good chance and guess that perhaps wanting Louis might just cost him everything.

＊ something told me it was you by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [T, 1k, Zayn/Louis]

Are you ready, 'cause I'm ready to let go Never thought that I'd be ready again

＊ 'til I let go of this moment by we_are_the_same [M, 3k, Zayn/Liam]

Zayn and his terrible horrible no good Olympics. Where he wins gold and Liam’s heart.

Featuring Liam’s unfortunate big penis

＊ and in those rare moments by we_are_the_same [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

London, May 23rd, 2025

Interview with Harry Styles, popstar, bisexual icon and philanthropist, by Louis W. Tomlinson.

＊ circling the truth by we_are_the_same [T, 3k, Liam/Louis]

Liam Payne has met his soulmate.

He knows he has, because he woke up with his power this morning.

Problem one: he has no idea who his soulmate is. He saw a ton of people last night, because it was the introduction party for the uni he is now attending. He’d talked to at least a dozen people, and he’s unsure on what counts as ‘meeting’ your soulmate, because it might just be someone he’d bumped into on his way to the loo.

Problem two: his power seems to be that he can read minds.

＊ even if it's strange, it's our love by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [G, 520 words, Zayn/Louis]

Zayn makes a hedgehog friend on his new farm and it changes his life in completely unexpected ways.

＊ I drink the honey inside your hive by yeah_alright [E, 3k, Louis/Harry]

Louis comes home frustrated and riled up in the way that only taking exactly what he needs from Harry can fix.

＊ Help me out of a jam? by yeah_alright [M, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Harry's tightened a jar beyond what he can open. He asks Louis for help, because Louis is always more than obliging.

＊ Carry the One by yeah_alright [T, 100 words, Louis/Harry]

Five times Louis carries her best friend and one time Harry carries the love of her life.

＊ Keep You Sweet in My Memory by yeah_alright [M, 6k, Zayn/Harry]

Of course Harry is the type to have a leather bound journal filled with pressed flowers. Zayn stops at one so delicate looking that he can’t believe it withstood the pressing process. It’s simple – a single layer of small, white petals with just a bit of yellow in the center – but Zayn can’t help but stare. His eyes rove over the subtle details frozen in time, somehow maintaining their softness despite having been crushed into two dimensions, and he feels almost hypnotized. He’s not aware of his hand moving until two fingers brush over the petals.

An image so vivid and sudden that his eyes snap shut in shock floods his mind and he pulls his hand back as though it’s been burned. The second his fingers leave the page, the image is gone, too fleeting for his memory to capture it.

“What the fuck?”

Zayn's only just getting to know Harry when he discovers he's able to store memories of people he loves in pressed flowers. At least that's what Harry tells him. Zayn has a choice: run away or accept Harry's invitation to learn more.

Harry's magic may be too powerful to resist.

＊ this time I'm willing to dance on the wire by yeah_alright [E, 3k, Harry/Louis]

A few days after leaving her shitty boyfriend, Harry goes back with Louis and their friends to collect the rest of her things. When her ex comes home to find them there, Niall, Zayn and Liam keep him away while Louis makes it known how much better off Harry is with her. Part 3 of Sin Wagon AU

＊ Deemed and Delivered a Crime by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 35k, Louis/Harry]

Harry keeps his voice low and calm. “I need you to listen very closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

When he’s only greeted with silence on the other end, Harry continues.

“For every hair that is harmed on Louis Tomlinson’s head, I am going to break one of your bones. And then when you’re reduced to a pathetic little pile on the floor, my men and I are going to kick around your limp carcass in my garden for footie practice. Do you understand?”

There’s a few more beats of silence, before the voice on the other line answers. Still sounding calm and unbothered by Harry’s creative threat.

“I’m glad you received our message Mr. Styles. Are you ready to settle on a suitable sum for Mr. Tomlinson’s release?”

(Or the one where Harry is the most feared mob boss in London. Louis is his ex-husband who left that violent life two years ago to teach Uni. His peace is shattered when he’s kidnapped by Harry’s rivals).

＊ The Road So Far (series) by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt [G, 12k, Harry/Louis]

Harry Styles, an Angel Of The Lord, is sent on a mission to save hunter Louis Tomlinson from the deepest pits of Hell in order for him to fulfill Heaven's plan.

＊ hold all our secrets (series) by @justanothershadeofblue [E, 9k, ot5]

One Direction was unusual as a band with two betas in with the expected omega popstars, but they achieved global stardom in spite of it, traveling the world as a five-part sensation until beta Zayn left and the rest of the band went on hiatus shortly after.

Years later, they're all living their separate lives, pursuing separate careers to varying levels of success, until a headline breaks: One Direction had a secret alpha all along.

＊ Buns of a Feather (series) by @tommokat [T, 3k, Louis/Harry]

Bird hybrid Harry has been with his boyfriend, rabbit hybrid Louis, for a while. They're about to take a big step in their relationship and Harry needs to show Louis just how serious he is about him.

＊ I've Got What You're Craving (For Your Misbehaving) by tommokat [E, 2k, Harry/Louis]

"You've been so patient, haven't you, angel?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Sub Louis gets treated by Domme Harry and the age old question of why women go to the bathroom together finally gets answered.

＊ Stand on Holy Ground (series) by @wishingforloushair [E, 17k, Louis/Harry]

Priest Harry eats Louis out and then fucks him on the altar in the Sanctuary of the Church

“Father Styles?” a voice behind him comes, making him jump slightly. He’s used to people interrupting him. After all, that’s why he leaves the large wooden doors propped open. The church was a sanctuary for everyone. Who was he to stop God’s children seeking out the truth? He closes his book, suddenly aware of how much his knees ache from the flagstone floor as he gets back to his feet, turning around slowly. Standing in the centre of the aisle is Louis. Louis, who comes to confess all his sins to Harry, every day on his knees, little begs of forgiveness tumbling from his lips. Louis, whose ridges and bumps Harry feels under his fingertips almost as often as he feels the ridges and bumps of the Word. “Hello, Louis,” he smiles, placing his Bible on the altar next to the Communion chalice. “Come to confess?” He watches carefully as Louis’ eyes darken a little, his lips parting. “Yes, Father.” It’s part of their charade now, a dance that he knows well. “Why don’t you go close the door then? I think you and I, and God, need some alone time, don’t you?”

- Podfics -

＊ [Podfic] White Stripes by @allwaswell16 read by Panda_Podfics / @pandapodfics [E, Louis/Harry]

Harry’s roommate is gorgeous, kind, generous, and basically everything Harry has ever wanted in another alpha. The only problem is that he isn’t even sure that his alpha roommate is into other alphas. In an effort to finally get over him, he lets Niall set him up on a blind date.

- Fic Fests -

＊ Wordplay Fic Challenge / @wordplayfics

Prompt 1: Nest Prompt 2: Tight Prompt 3: Carry Prompt 4: Press Prompt 5: Interference

[jovialbasementmusic]

What do you do with a brainwashed army of cult survivors?

At the end of Heart Part 2, Etheria still has a population of thousands of Horde Prime’s clones. This is going to be, putting it mildly, a Problem for the Etherians. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen what happens to a cult follower when they are faced with conclusive evidence that their entire worldview was false, but you probably have some intuitive idea. Imagine if you said to a young-Earth creationist “Hey, here are multiple overlapping lines of evidence proving beyond reasonable doubt that life on Earth evolved over hundreds of millions of years,” or to a Scientologist, “Check out this evidence that L. Ron Hubbard was a fraudster who started a cult as a money-making racket!” You can probably guess that in each of those cases, the response is unlikely to be, “Goodness, I have been mistaken all my life! Thank you, kind friend, for relieving me of my false beliefs.”

As someone who’s left a cult, let me tell you, the clones are not all gonna react like Hordak or Wrong Hordak.

You might have heard of cognitive dissonance theory, but most people misuse the term, so I’ll quickly explain it. When humans encounter information which contradicts or disproves their deeply held beliefs, they experience psychological discomfort. This feeling sucks, and people will go to great lengths not to experience it. But when those beliefs are central to your identity and your place in the world, letting go of those beliefs also sucks, and people will go to even greater lengths not to do it. So they resolve the cognitive dissonance however they can. They might decide the person who gave them this information is an evil liar and lash out at them. They might find a way to convince themselves the information is in fact compatible with their beliefs after all, and then try not to think too hard about whatever mangled assemblage of the facts they have settled on, in case it falls apart under closer examination. They might modify their beliefs slightly to fit the facts ("Prime always said he would go away for a while before returning in triumph!"), and then maintain that this is what they thought all along.

As an aside, one of the landmark texts on cognitive dissonance theory is When Prophecy Fails, which tracks the actions of a doomsday cult after the world failed to end on their predicted date. Sure enough, the acolytes of this cult did not abandon their beliefs despite this pretty concrete evidence that they had been wrong. Instead, they started recruiting new followers as hard as possible. They tried to get social reinforcement for their beliefs (“This must be true—look how many people believe it!”) to help them cope with the empirical disconfirmation they’d just lived through. So yeah, this theory is highly applicable to cult behaviour. And Prime’s clones are quite definitely a cult.

So it’s fair to say that just because the Hive Mind is down and She-Ra has just kicked Prime’s ass into oblivion, the clones are not all gonna just accept that Prime is gone and his mission is over. Some of them are going to continue fighting, convinced that Prime is not really gone. Some will insist that their connection to the Hive Mind is still intact, and deliver messages as the word of Prime. At least one clone is going to claim to be the reincarnation of Prime himself, and begin recruiting followers. More likely, several clones will attempt this gambit, creating factions with names like The True Followers of Prime and The Glorious Servants of Prime. These factions will go to war with each other in service of their Prime (honourable, redeeming) against the enemy’s Prime (evil, destructive). As time goes on, these factions’ ideas about Prime’s teachings will diverge, providing new opportunities for conflict. If they’re allowed to go on long enough, probably some benign and progressive versions of Prime’s cult will emerge, teaching that Prime in fact existed to bring peace and freedom to the Universe, and that those warlike factions have strayed from the true path of Prime.

All of this gives the people in charge of Etheria a headache. Etheria doesn’t believe in retributive justice, and as brainwashed cult members, the clones have diminished responsibility for war crimes they committed while Prime was alive. So it’s fair to say they can’t kill them. But they also can’t just ship them all off to live unsupervised in a colony somewhere in case they radicalise each other and start another war. Sure, some of them will follow Wrong Hordak into accepting that Prime lied to them, and they will find meaning by travelling the universe, attempting to restore planets Prime destroyed. Some, like Hordak, will give themselves names and begin the agonising process of creating an identity for themselves outside of everything they ever thought was true. But what of the rest of them? They’re essentially adult children, ignorant of everything Prime did not want them to know. They also trigger PTSD flashbacks in a great many citizens of Etheria, who cannot look at them without remembering what they suffered under the Horde.

What do you do with that many brainwashed survivors? What does compassion and restorative justice demand? I don’t know if I’ll get around to writing this as a fic or not, so here’s the setup and you can let your imaginations take it where you like. I’m new to tumblr and to the spop fandom, so if you read this far I’d really appreciate a reblog. And if anyone else has already had similar ideas, I’d really like to read them.

[lightlycareless]

How do you think Naoya would be as a teacher at Jujutsu Tech? This idea came to me when I was about to fall asleep and I have not been able to stop thinking about it, especially with your portrayal of Naoya.

It’d probably be more auish. Tbh I could see Y/N being a teacher their first(maybe like a year or two) before Naoya(probably against the wishes of his family) decides to teach their too in hopes of getting closer to Y/N 🤭

I feel like Naoya would be like kinda a good teacher but also bad at it is as well. Especially since he’s not there because he has some ‘passion for educating the youth’. I feel like he’d be good in the sense that his students are gonna have the skills they need fight these curses and stuff just…he’s not nice in his teaching. Part of it is probably because he also initially wouldn’t feel a desire to bond or connect with his students.

That is until Y/N steps in. Maybe she thinks that he’s not used to teaching and just needs some pointers on how to get his point across without being harsh to his students. Maybe Y/N decides to give him like after hours teaching lessons. I can see Naoya being slightly peeved having something about him being criticized but if he’s head over heels still, I could see him swallowing his pride and accepting just so he can have one on one time with Y/N(A win is a win am I right lol).

I can then see Y/N suggest they do joint training or something so she can be there to help if he finds himself struggling or whatever(idk) and like maybe his students are noticing that Naoya isn’t that bad and maybe they even notice the painfully obvious pining he has for Y/N. And seeing that kinda humanizes him for them. I can see his students growing less intimidated, maybe even being able to try to start cracking jokes with him and just genuinely act like goofy, relaxed kids around him. Maybe they’re like ‘We gotta help Naoya-Sensei get with Y/N-Sensei’.

Idk this just gave me such cute and fluffy vibes for Naoya gradually caring for his students and the cute moments him and Y/N would have as teachers

Hello!!

Thank you so much for sending me this ask!! I love me some highschool au... but I never thought of it from a teacher's perspective!!! I might write more of it in the future, probably after I tire myself out from the student POV.

Until then, I hope you like this little drabble I wrote :> Naoya is, in all universes, a jerk. But a dork at the same time.

warnings: fluff. naoya is a tiny bit of a jerk, nothing too crazy tho. as expected of him.

Happy reading!!!

Naoya lost track of you after graduating. Whether because he got too busy with his missions, or because deep inside him, he thought that his chances with you were effectively gone the moment he left school.

Still, he hoped that one day your paths would cross once again, providing him another chance to do what he couldn’t do back then and make you his.

Fortunately, that moment would come the moment he learned of your whereabouts by unwittingly eavesdropping on an insignificant conversation between his assistant and another equally mundanesorcerer he was assigned to work with on that occasion.

“Did you hear? Jujutsu High has a new teacher.”

“New teacher? That’s weird. Didn’t know they were hiring—who is it?”

“You’d never guess—Y/N!”

“Y/N? Hinata’s sister? Wasn’t she like… working out of the country, or something?”

“I think so. She must’ve gotten bored of it, there’s not much work outside of Japan, you know. Though I’m surprised she’d settle for a teaching job; isn’t that…”

“Tedious? Yeah. She must be really passionate about it.”

As Naoya recalled, having heard directly from you how you’d always desired to be a teacher, for the responsibility of molding the future of the community appeared to be highly fulfilling to you, and such, a duty you wished to help develop if ever given the opportunity.

It wasn’t his dream, he genuinely couldn’t care less about anyone else but you, that’s for sure…

But if this is what he needed to do to get close to you, then he knows what he must.

Safe to say, the school was pleasantly surprised to receive Naoya’s demand application for whatever teaching position was open, ready to work as soon as possible.

Because of his prestige, the rutinary interview was promptly skipped, they’d still give him the basic training to give him a basic idea of what was required of him, but outside of that, a few days after he showed interest in the job, he got it.

And so, he begins, working as the type of teacher many only expected of him: unapproachable, hard to understand, impatient, and most of all, genuinely indifferent to his students.

Some gave him the benefit of the doubt, hoped that Naoya’s unpredictability would work on their favor…

But they were proven wrong when all these issues began to arise, problems that were dealt with by the students either skipping class, opting to fail it and going to summer school, hopefully with an entirely different teacher.

Transferring schools, if not dropping out altogether…

Or venting their frustrations out. Those that weren’t too keen on sacrificing their grades (that much) would resort to the only other sensei they felt most comfortable with to do so—you.

“Naoya-sensei is horrible, he spends all day sulking about us not being good, frequently calling out all the mistakes we make, but then, he doesn’t help us!”

“Why was he even hired?! Weren’t there any other better candidates?!”

“I wouldn’t say that…” you murmur, an attempt to stop them from saying anything else that might get them into trouble if heard by the wrong person… as well as from spreading lies, for a job like this one, especially amongst the sorcery community, isn’t one many would consider highly sought after. Genuinely there might’ve not been another candidate. Less a better one.

Not everyone liked the idea of a selfless career, one that often went unrecognized, after all. So, for the arrogant, overconfident heir of the Zen’in known to not care about anything beyond his interests…

Well, a surprise could only be an understatement.

Though as unexpected as it was, you wouldn’t deny that seeing this new side of him was kind of nice. Like it humanized him—or whatever little you knew of him anyways, since he often kept to himself, even when working alongside as teacher, he just… didn’t approach you.

But, well, it’s not like he did otherwise back then either. He wasn’t much of a social person. Yet, he always managed to amuse you; maybe through the fact that he seemed particularly… calmer with you.

Either way, you were probably the only other person that thought he was deserving of having friends, people that were always willing to help when struggling, just as he was doing right now with his students.

So, after brief consideration, and ignoring the warnings from fellow teachers and friends alike, you take the first step.

“Hey, Naoya!” You greet, walking over to his table, the same one where he’d always eat lunch—alone. Thankfully, if you were lucky enough, that would change today. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Why?” Naoya asks back immediately after, the nature of his question making you blink, slightly upsetting you.

While his response came out as an indirect rejection, which you would’ve taken as such if you didn’t have other motives… his words were actually meant as a kind of a personal demand, desperate to know why you decided to approach him right then and there, of all places, when there were much better options?!

Certainly, having his first official conversation with you in the teacher’s lounge wasn’t on the top of his list; even worse for a date…

But if this is where it’ll happen, he’ll take it.

“I mean—sure, take a seat. It’s not like anybody else is going to.” Responds, as nonchalantly as he could to appear calm and collected, cool. The type of guy he thinks you’d like, only to have the contrary effect.

«Well, nobody said this was going to be easy.» you think to yourself.

“How is school treating you?” You begin after taking a seat next to him, though you don’t really begin to eat; appetite effectively replaced with anxiety. What if Naoya chews you out just for asking? Again?? “You’ve been here a few weeks now, is everything up to your liking?”

“No. It’s horrible. I hate it.” He assesses, with an unforeseen speed that surprised him as well. But that only helps to show how comfortable he is with you, even when the last time he saw you had been years by that point. To be near you always puts him on a good mood.

Naoya always felt like you were the only one that truly understood him, after all. And that’s something that not even time could replace. 

“Oh. That’s… awful.” You murmur, surprised by his honesty. You suspected he was having it bad... but not like this! “Why, if I may ask?”

“The students are stupid.”

“Don’t—Don’t say that Naoya!” you gasp, he chuckles at your reaction. «How cute.» he thinks.

“Ah, so there’s not a single student that has made you lose your cool, Y/N-sensei?” he takes this opportunity to tease you, you frown.

“Even if there was, it’s unprofessional for me to say so.” You respond. “A teacher must not show any kind of preference, or disregard for their students.”

Naoya remains quiet, getting the feeling that his teasing actually ended up irritating you even further, instead of smoothing things out. But ignorant on how to bridge that gap, he simply goes back to his food, hoping for a miracle: for the earth to swallow him whole, or for you to prove you weren’t that upset. Whatever happened first.

It’ll be neither.

“I can help you, if you’d like.” You quietly offer. “With getting along with your students, and all that…”

“…What do you mean?” Naoya asks, returning his gaze to you.

“Don’t tell anyone this, but… the other day my students told me they were struggling a bit to understand your lessons.” You confess. “They said they were afraid of asking you things because you tend to lash out, and so…”

“Ah, did they?” Naoya scowls. “It’s not my fault they can’t seem to understand basic things!”

“They’re trying their best. They’re just kids, after all, lacking the experience we have.” You explain. “Especially yours, which I already know is quite impressive!”

His heart skips a beat, and that little compliment was enough to put him in a good mood all over again! If only he could spend the rest of his life hearing you refer to him so adorably…

“It’s just a matter of knowing how to transform your skills into lessons. Not everybody has the talent to be a good teacher, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You go on, with such passion Naoya couldn’t dismiss—you really liked this job, didn’t you? “Let me help you so you don’t go through the same struggles as me.”

A part of him wanted to feel offended by your words, angry that you’d call him incompetent in the job he clearly never showed interest in, simply taking it with the hopes of getting close to you (which he failed in for various… excuses)—a sentiment that only grew bigger when also acknowledging that his students had spoken badly of him behind his back.

What, were they too afraid of confronting him? They weren’t babies, pathetic…

But another part of him wanted him to forget all this in favor of taking this for what it was, what he wanted: an opportunity to get closer to you.

It’s easy to guess which one he took. Or more like, which one he accepted with utmost importance. Naoya is still Naoya, and his anger wasn’t to disappear so easily… but he was willing to compromise.

Thus, your mission to make Naoya into a better teacher begins! With tutoring classes taking part either after school, or the weekend, depending on the necessity of your intervention—values judged by the feedback from your students.

And Naoya was willing to play along too, (much to your relief) although he did so by thinking this was the closest thing he could get as a date with you, hoping to get the real deal further down the road…

But of course, he’d underestimated your dedication to helping him, soon realizing that the only things happening during those moments were either going over and over again your notes, trying to figure out what teaching method would better suit Naoya, as well as preparing his classes for the week and the activities to accompany them—and nothing more.

He was disappointed, yet, but not enough to give up. Such determination led him to agree that the best way to keep this arrangement going on as long as possible (until he was able to properly ask you out, or for you to fall in love) was by continuing to fail as a teacher, dump any help/information you’ve given him to start from 0 once again.

Which, surprisingly, worked. But at the expense of your frustrations for his seeming lack of advancement.

You’d never disclose your emotions to him, wanting to avoid making him feel this was some kind of burden (especially when you were the one to suggest it) but… he was not making it any easy.

It was well known that he was a difficult person; everyone always made sure to remind you of that. And yet, you still gave him the benefit of the doubt, you really did!

But like all things, it wouldn’t take long before you end up circling back to the notion that perhaps you misunderstood his real purpose with the job. Or even worse, maybe he did like the job, he just preferred tormenting you far better.

If so… then there was nothing else to do. If Naoya didn’t want to improve, then you wouldn’t waste your time anymore.

“Hey, Y/N, where are you going?” He asks upon noticing you cleaning up after your things, instead of setting them for his class, just like you’ve done almost every day up to that point. “We’re not doing it today?”

“Oh, um… No. I just—I just remembered I had something else already planned for today, sorry.” And for the next day, and the day after…

A whole week in fact, just enough time for Naoya to realize that you indeed had given up on him.

And who wouldn’t? He was being an absolute prick towards all the efforts you made to help him! Regardless of whose idea it was, the fact that he just discarded them like they didn’t mean anything, without the decency to tell you he wasn’t interested in them anymore, all for a selfish, personal reason…!

That wasn’t to be the worst part, however; what hurt the most was that Naoya still claimed to care for you, even when he went on to do all these dismissivethings, in his mind, he truly, still believed he was doing the right thing! That somehow this would lead to you developing feelings for him and getting together!

Yet, your departure would serve as a much-needed critical wake-up call; the perfect detonator for him to finally open his eyes and realize that he was doing was not only stupid, but highly disrespectful to you, the woman he proclaimed to have feelings for.

He hated seeing you upset with him, the light of your eyes dimmed out for something he knew you were highly passionate about.

But what he hated the most was admitting he was the cause of it.

Thus, having his work cut out for him, he begins to do what he should’ve done: apply your knowledge to improving his classes, and taking everyone by surprise when it actually begins to work!

Naoya simply becomes that less impatient teacher, yet willing to call out mistakes with the purpose of helping students, not just demeaning them. And not only that, but his classes are also met with astonishing grades, proof that they’re actually learning!

An advancement that naturally leads the students to grow eager to see what other cool thing Naoya-sensei will teach them this time around, or if lucky enough, help them create a technique no one else has ever thought of before! His creative talents for such things is not one they could pass!!

But most importantly, beyond the improvement of his teaching abilities, he also got your acknowledgment. The unexpected surprise that Naoya not only managed to commit to what you taught him, but that he was actually listening all along…

Though feeling recognized by your efforts, you were mostly elated to see his relationship advance with his students at the end of the day, as seen in the somewhat fond way they’d speak of him whenever in conversation with you.

“Naoya-sensei is much nicer this time around.” One would say.

“He actually offered to help me if I was struggling with my training, can you believe it?!”

“I wonder what happened to make him change? Do you think it was Y/N-sensei? They were seen together quite a lot…”

“Oh my god, maybe he likes her.”

“Don’t be silly, I don’t think Naoya-sen—oh my god he does.”

At their silence and wide eyes when the classroom door opens, you quickly turn around to see the culprit behind their reaction, both curious and worried; was it an angry parent? Wouldn’t be the first time something like that happens…

No. It was much worse, actually. Or perhaps better? Either way, you’d end up reacting the same way when realizing it was Naoya standing by the frame; and not only that, but he was accompanied with a bouquet of colorful flowers that with just a simple glance you managed to understand were for you.

And, well, him walking straight to you might’ve been a dead giveaway as well.

“Nao—Naoya, what are you—”

“I wanted to thank you.” He says, handing the flowers to you. “For… all the help you’ve given me.”

“What—what are you even talking about??” you laugh nervously, flustered by his gesture, embarrassed by the endless pairs of eyes on you.

“For helping me with my students.” Naoya goes on. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

“O—oh, it was nothing!” you gasp. “Really, you don’t need to do—”

“Come on, Y/N-sensei!!” one would cry.

“Naoya-sensei went through the trouble of getting them for you!! The least you could do is accept them!”

“Isn’t he your type, anyways?? Accept the flowers, sensei!”

“Oh, that’s so dreamy… I wish I had a boyfriend that got me flowers!”

“No way, how come sensei gets a girlfriend before me???”

“Wait a minute.” You breathe, your student’s words making something in your mind click. “Were you—were you guys behind this?!”

The group lets out a chuckle, giving you enough of an answer.

“What?! Since when?!”

Easily, after noticing how his gaze lingered on you a bit longer than usual whenever you were around.

Of course, ever since you essentially stopped talking to him, he’s been nothing but a miserable puppy trying to gain your attention once again. Naoya hoped that by becoming a better teacher would do the trick, and you did approach him from time to time, but alas, it wasn’t as much as he wanted it to be.

He was ready to give up too, planning on quitting as soon as the school year was over… until his students stepped in to help.

“Naoya-sensei, you need to be more assertive in your approach!”

“Excuse me?” He frowns. “I’m the teacher here, you know?”

“We’re not talking about that!”

“What are you talking about, then?”

“You like Y/N-sensei, don’t you?” one declares, making Naoya’s cheeks burn up.

“That’s not for you to discuss!”

“Your reaction was real convincing, sensei.”

“…What are you even planning to get out of this?”

“Nothing! We just think it’s sweet that someone is interested in Y/N-sensei, she deserves that much after being so nice to us!” They grin. “And while we wouldn’t normally consider you to be the best candidate for her, something tells us she likes you too!”

“Huh? What? Why? Did she tell you??”

“No, but you just confirmed our suspicions!” They laugh, Naoya rolls his eyes. “As we were saying, we normally would’ve chosen someone else to matchmake our sensei with, like Nanami-san, though he’s rarely around. Or Gojo-sensei, but he’s too weird for her…”

“I don’t—I don’t want to hear about other men.” Naoya warns.

“Oh, so you’re the jealous type? Makes sense though, you’re always very… explosive.”

“Say that again and you’re going to spend the weekend here” He scowls.

“Alright, alright, sensei!! We were just joking. Anyways, it’s clear that you reformed, and with that, we’ve officially declared you adequate to date Y/N-sensei!!”

“The issue here is making her like you…”

“You’re making me sound unlikable.” Naoya frowns.

“I mean, wasn’t she upset for days after she was last seen with you?”

Naoya’s heart sinks to his stomach upon hearing that. He has no way to deny he wasn’t responsible for that—in fact, he was well aware it was him.

“You gotta make her like you. See you as a potential partner and not a fellow coworker.”

“…And how can I do that?” Naoya never thought he’d be receiving love advice from one of his students, in fact, a part of him tells him he probably shouldn’t… but after running out of ideas, he guesses why the hell not? Besides, they’re willing, he might as well.

“By being attentive and thoughtful. Take into consideration what Y/N-sensei is always boasting about!! We can already name a few off the top of our head! Surely you can do so too, Naoya-sensei; you two have been much closer than us, after all…”

«Like the flowers on the main garden» Which you never failed to bring to his attention whenever walking to class, admiring how colorful and pretty they were, silently hoping that one day you’d be gifted ones, if ever lucky enough.

“But how do I even approach her? Nothing ever seems to be the right time, she’s always busy.” «Either with work, or avoiding me…»

“Now that just sounds like an excuse” they shake their head crossing their arms. “Just do it when she’s in class! She’s not going to be able to leave there! Besides, that would be 100% romantic, I’m sure of it!! But don’t try to get out of this one by having someone else do it for you, though. It has to be you. That’s the only way for this to work.”

“Huh?? Why not??” Naoya was sure considering it, he hated the thought of being public about something so intimate. Besides, isn’t a secret admirer the type of thing women like…?

“Do you want her to think it was Kusakabe-sensei, perhaps? He was flirting with her the other day…”

That was more than enough for Naoya to swallow the embarrassment of doing such gesture before the students, fast forward to the moment where he walked into your classroom, standing a mere few feet away from you and your flustered face, evidence of your acceptance for his gift—welcoming his efforts.

“Th—thank you, Naoya.” You murmur, finally taking the bouquet in your hands and leaning down to take in their sweet scent—freshly cut, making you smile. “These flowers… they’re beautiful!”

Naoya’s chest tightens at the sight of your happy face, proud that he was responsible of said reaction, and such, making him smile as well.

“Does that mean you two are dating now?!” One of your students claims.

“No!” you gasp, looking up to Naoya. “I mean…”

“Not without a date, we aren’t.” Naoya adds. “Dinner? Please let me make it up to you for the horrible way I treated you.”

“…Yes.”

Naturally, your students never let go of the opportunity to pester the two after that. Whether to know where you went to as a date, if Naoya-sensei got you more gifts (insisting that you’d demand for greater things! He was the heir of the Zen’in, surely, he could afford more!! — you declined their suggestions)

But most importantly, if the two were finally together, because after seeing what the two did: from secretly meeting after class, face red whenever he got too close to you to whisper something seemingly innocent, to accompany you to your room… It was nothing but obvious—they just needed confirmation.

Or for you to stop acting like he wasn’t you boyfriend already!

“Shut up, everyone! Can’t you see sensei’s boyfriend is coming?”

“He’s not— he’s not my boyfriend.” You fretted one too many times, a response everyone could see through, a blatant lie considering the heat on your cheeks, or the excitement in your face, eager to see him again after being apart for soooo long (just a few hours. He’s literally next door to you.)

“Aaaaah, as if!! You’re all red!”

“Stop it, already! Or you’ll all have extra homework!”

And that seemed to be enough to quiet them for the following days, at least until you and Naoya had the misfortune of being caught kissing each other at the teacher’s lounge by an innocent student that simply wished to discuss some matters regarding their last exam.

While they promised to keep what they saw a secret, it really wouldn’t take long before everyone heard of your new status with Naoya, and as expected of the students, they’d begin to tease and cheer for their favorite couple whenever walking by.

No amount of naivety, feigning ignorance could help you out of this situation anymore, though Naoya no longer planned on doing so.

“Well, they already know the truth.” He smiles, intertwining his hand with yours. “Might as well commit to it.”

“Oh, Naoya—Do you think they’ll ever stop? I don’t mind them doing that, I just worry they might get in trouble with the school…”

Naoya laughs, kissing your cheek; no matter the situation, his gestures always make you feel adored, safe.

“I don’t think so—but if they do, I’ll show them to not mess with my students.” He assures you. “Come on now, love. We’re running late to class.”

Never in a million years would you have expected for the follow to happen:

First, Naoya to have feelings for you. Though you always liked him, he often appeared… distant, giving you the impression he solely wanted to pursue his career as a sorcerer. Or perhaps he already had someone else to be his partner, considering his role amongst the Zen’in, so he didn’t need to look beyond that—a thought that greatly hurt you, enough to let those feelings slowly die out eventually.

Secondly, for his feelings to motivate him into joining Jujutsu High as a teacher just to get close to you—yes, he eventually told you. Were you surprised? Very. But mostly impressed by his determination, flustered to understand he liked you that much he was willing to do one of the things he didn’t like!

Which leads to the third point. After hearing his initial purpose on becoming a teacher, you genuinely expected him to leave the job after the first year, but turns out, he’s actually quite fond of being one now!

And while there were still moments where his impatience got the best of him, it was still visible that he truly learned to enjoy spending time with his students, mostly teasing them, but outside of that, he’s found satisfaction in being recognized as someone reliable with their knowledge, talented, worthy of admiration! And helping them become that same person too.

Things were slowly beginning to fall in place for you and Naoya, a moment of absolute bliss that promised to last a lifetime.

Guess all both had to worry about now was the reaction the students would inevitably have when learning you’re planning to get married—if the titles of boyfriend and girlfriend were enough to evoke such havoc… you could only imagine what would happen with husband and wife.

Or when learning you were to have a baby.

But all in due time.

Imagine if they take Naomi to class that would be WILD. I like to think Naoya eventually works as something else (with better pay I mean) so Y/N can keep doing what she likes but more comfortably.

Also the students matchmaking YN lmao and NAOYA BEING THE RIGHT CANDIDATE it's like DAMN were the other really that bad??? I'm sure one of them even thought of setting her up with the director 💀 she would be like "ew no, he was my teacher!!!" she's just so nice to them, they want to see her happy!!

Naoya's puppy eyes whenever observing Y/N from a distance were the true MVP, if it weren't for his unavoidable sadness, I don't think anything would've happened. They really saw him mope around and were like "damn, he must really like Y/N if he's like that..."

Anyways, this was really cute to write. I actually wanted to put Naoya as a teacher first and then Y/N joined, but it kind of flipped your request around, so this is what I went with :>

I hope you liked it!! And thank you so much for sending in this adorable request ❤️ Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[scrollonso]

Cinnamon — Strollonso (2) (prev)

After hours of enduring his friends' teasing and half-hearted attempts at studying, Lance finally found an excuse to slip away. The air outside the study hall was cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the stuffy room. He shoved his hands into his MIT-branded jacket pockets and took a deep breath, his mind swirling with thoughts of Fernando — though they should've been swirling with thoughts of his meche final project due by the end of the month.

He hadn’t even made it halfway down the dimly lit corridor when he spotted him.

Fernando was leaned casually against the wall, phone in hand as his bag of teaching supplies at his feet, as though he’d been waiting there all along. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement when they locked on Lance.

“Studying hard?” Fernando asked, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down Lance’s spine.

Lance stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding. “You could say that.”

Fernando pushed off the wall, walking toward him with slow, deliberate steps. Lance’s pulse quickened with every step Fernando took. There was something about the way he moved — confident, sure of himself — that made it impossible to look away.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Lance murmured, his voice quieter than he intended. "I figured professors went home pretty early."

“I was hoping to run into you.” Fernando’s lips curved into a smirk. “Thought you might need a ride home.”

Lance blinked. “You… what?”

Fernando shrugged. “It’s late. Thought it might be safer.”

Safe. Lance swallowed hard. Nothing about being near Fernando felt safe — it felt exhilarating, electric, dangerous.

“I don’t think my dad would love that idea,” Lance said, though he didn’t make any move to decline the offer. Lawrence had known Fernando for decades — from their shared classes in university, from business dealings, from god knows where else. Lance could only imagine his father’s reaction if he found out his son was falling for the man he’d once called a friend.

But right now, Lance couldn’t bring himself to care.

Fernando chuckled, the sound warm and teasing. “Are you worried about what your father would say? Or are you worried about what you want?”

Lance bit his lip, his gaze flickering to Fernando’s mouth. “I don’t—”

“Come on, Lance.” Fernando said softly, tilting his head toward the door. “I’ll take you home.”

Lance hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Okay.”

They walked out into the night, and Lance found himself acutely aware of how close Fernando was — his arm brushing against Lance’s, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. By the time they reached Fernando’s car — Fernando's white Mustang — Lance’s chest felt like it might explode.

As Fernando opened the passenger door for him, Lance paused. “Why are you doing this?”

Fernando leaned closer, his gaze locking onto Lance’s. “Because I care for my students, do you wish for me to have ulterior motives?”

Lance’s breath caught in his throat. The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken possibilities.

“Get in,” Fernando whispered.

Lance slid into the car, his heart pounding like a drumbeat in his ears. Fernando circled around to the driver’s side, and as he started the engine, Lance couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.

The drive was quiet, the tension between them palpable. Lance’s fingers curled into fists on his lap, his mind racing with everything he wanted to say — everything he wanted to do.

When Fernando finally pulled up outside the Strulovich home, neither of them moved to get out.

“Lance,” Fernando said softly, his voice laced with something vulnerable.

Lance turned to him, his heart hammering in his chest. “Yes, sir?”

Fernando’s gaze dropped to Lance’s lips. “I’m trying to be good.”

“Don’t,” Lance whispered, his voice barely audible.

That was all it took.

Fernando closed the distance between them, his hand cupping Lance’s cheek as he kissed him — slow, deliberate, and devastatingly gentle. Lance melted into the kiss, his hands tangling in Fernando’s hair as every thought about his father, about what was right or wrong, about what he believed was ethical, faded away.

All that mattered was this moment.

Fernando's lips moved against his with an aching softness, like he had all the time in the world. It wasn’t rushed or hurried, and that made it all the more overwhelming. Lance clung to him, fingers tightening in Fernando’s subtle curls, pulling him closer.

Fernando sighed into the kiss, his thumb stroking Lance’s cheekbone, grounding him. The world outside the car fell away — the late-night traffic, the shadows of the streetlights, the distant sound of footsteps on the sidewalk. None of it mattered.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard. Fernando’s forehead rested against Lance’s, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

Silence settled over them again, but it was warm, comfortable. Lance traced the curve of Fernando’s jaw with his fingers, marveling at how natural this felt.

“I don’t know how we’re going to do this,” Lance admitted, his voice quiet. “My dad—”

"Lawrence doesn’t scare me,” Fernando interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “This… you… it’s worth the risk.”

Lance’s chest tightened at those words. He’d spent so much of his life under his father’s shadow, constantly trying to live up to expectations. But with Fernando, everything felt different — he almost felt ridiculous but he couldn't help but be reassured by the older man's presence.

“I want this,” Lance whispered. “I don’t care what anyone says.”

Fernando smiled, leaning in to kiss him again — softer this time, more lingering. “Good.”

The sound of a car passing by broke the moment, and Lance pulled back, glancing out the window. His nerves prickled with the realization of where they were.

“Do you want to come inside?” Lance asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Fernando studied him for a long moment, his gaze intense. “Are you sure?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Fernando turned off the engine and got out of the car, waiting for Lance to join him on the sidewalk. As they walked toward the building, Lance’s hand brushed against Fernando’s. After a brief hesitation, Fernando took it, intertwining their fingers.

The gesture sent a thrill through Lance, but it also filled him with a strange sense of calm.

As they stepped inside the house, Lance couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing on the edge of something life-changing.

Fernando glanced around the space, then turned to Lance, his expression softening. “You’re nervous.”

“A little.”

Fernando’s hands slid around Lance’s waist, pulling him close. “You don’t have to be.”

Lance looked up at him, his heart in his throat. “I’m not scared of you.”

Fernando’s eyes darkened with emotion. “Good.”

Fernando’s lips pressed softly against Lance’s, coaxing him into a kiss that felt both tender and consuming. Lance melted into it, his hands sliding up to grip Fernando’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Every thought, every doubt melted away under Fernando’s touch.

Without breaking the kiss, Fernando walked Lance backward, their steps slow and unsteady as they moved through the house. Lance’s fingers tangled in Fernando’s hair again, pulling him down deeper into the kiss, as if he couldn’t get enough.

They stumbled slightly near the stairs, Lance’s back hitting the wall with a soft thud. He let out a breathless laugh against Fernando’s lips, his cheeks flushed and eyes shining with something Fernando couldn’t quite put into words.

“You okay?” Fernando murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from Lance’s face.

“Yea, yeah.” Lance’s voice was soft, but there was a glint of mischief in his gaze. “I’m more than okay.” He felt a rush of adreneline risking everything like this.

Fernando smirked, leaning in to kiss him again, slower this time — more deliberate. His hands slid down Lance’s sides, anchoring him in place as he kissed him deeply, like he was savoring every second.

Lance let out a soft sigh, his fingers trailing down Fernando’s chest, tugging at the hem of his jacket. “Upstairs?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Fernando’s gaze flicked toward the staircase, then back to Lance. “Lead the way.”

Lance grabbed Fernando’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he guided him toward the stairs. Their footsteps were clumsy, their lips finding each other again and again as they moved. At the first step, Fernando pressed Lance against the railing, his hands on either side of him as he leaned in for another kiss — deeper, more urgent.

Lance let out a soft gasp, his head tilting back as Fernando’s lips trailed from his mouth to his jaw, then down his neck. His breath hitched, his hands fisting in Fernando’s shirt, pulling him closer.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” Lance murmured, his voice trembling.

Fernando chuckled against his skin. “Good.”

They stumbled up the stairs, laughter and soft gasps filling the air between kisses. Lance’s heart raced, his pulse thrumming in his ears as they reached the top of the staircase. By the time they made it to his bedroom door, his nerves had faded, replaced by a burning desire that left him breathless.

Lance pushed the door open, pulling Fernando inside. The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains.

Fernando shut the door behind them, his gaze never leaving Lance. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

Lance nodded, stepping closer until they were chest to chest. His fingers brushed over Fernando’s cheek, lingering at his jaw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The moment the words left his lips, Fernando surged forward, capturing Lance in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate — a kiss that spoke of everything they'd been holding back. Lance stumbled slightly, but Fernando caught him, his hands firm on Lance's hips as they moved together with reckless urgency.

Lance's back hit a wall — again — the force knocking a framed picture of Lance with his father at his bar mitzvah askew, but neither of them cared. Fernando's lips were on his neck now, his teeth grazing sensitive skin, making Lance gasp as he fisted his hands into Fernando's hair, pulling him even closer.

"Bed," Lance managed to gasp out between kisses, his voice shaky with need.

Fernando pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, the Canadian's lips swollen and both of them breathless. He nodded, grabbing Lance's hand and guiding him to the bed.

Lance laughed breathlessly as his legs hit the mattress, but Fernando didn't give him a chance to steady himself. He pushed Lance back onto the bed, following him down without hesitation, their bodies tangling together as they landed in a heap of limbs and laughter.

Lance reached for Fernando again, pulling him down into another kiss — messy, rushed, teeth clashing before they found their rhythm again. His hands slid under Fernando's shirt, desperate to feel skin against skin. Fernando groaned into the kiss, hurriedly undoing the buttons of his white top and shrugging it off.

Lance’s fingers trembled as they trailed over Fernando’s chest, savoring the warmth of his skin and the firm muscle beneath his touch. He let out a shaky breath, eyes flicking up to meet Fernando’s gaze. The intensity there made his heart race — dark, smoldering, full of desire and something deeper, something Lance couldn’t quite name.

Fernando leaned in, his lips brushing along Lance’s jaw, then down to his neck, leaving a trail of slow, deliberate kisses. Lance tilted his head to give him more access, his hands sliding down to grip Fernando’s waist, pulling him closer.

“God,” Lance whispered, his voice catching as Fernando nipped at his collarbone before soothing the spot with his tongue. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good,” Fernando murmured against his skin, his accent thick, his voice low and rough. “Because you’ve been driving me insane since the moment I met you.”

Lance’s heart skipped at the confession, his fingers tightening their hold on Fernando. Their kisses grew slower, more deliberate, every touch electric. Fernando’s hands slid under Lance’s shirt, pushing it up, fingertips brushing over his ribs and making him shiver.

“Off,” Fernando whispered, tugging at the fabric.

Lance quickly complied, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Fernando’s eyes raked over him, his gaze lingering on every inch of bare skin — though his eyes caught notice of the thin hebrew lettering just to the side of Lance's nipple. It made Lance’s cheeks flush, but he didn’t look away — couldn’t look away.

“You’re beautiful,” Fernando said softly, reverently, as if the words were a secret just for Lance.

Lance swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling with every breath. “So are you.”

Fernando smiled, his lips quirking up at the corners before he leaned in again, capturing Lance’s mouth in another kiss — deeper this time, slower. His hands wandered, exploring every curve and dip of Lance’s body, as if committing him to memory.

Lance arched into the touch, gasping when Fernando’s lips found his neck again, kissing and biting just enough to make him tremble. His fingers threaded through Fernando’s hair, tugging gently, earning a low groan that sent shivers down his spine.

Time seemed to blur — the only things Lance could focus on were Fernando’s touch, his warmth, and the way every kiss made him feel like he was falling, completely and utterly consumed by the man in front of him.

Lance’s fingers traced the lines of muscle on Fernando’s chest, marveling at the way his skin warmed under his touch. Fernando watched him with quiet intensity, his hands resting on Lance’s hips, thumbs stroking the exposed skin just above the waistband of his jeans.

"You’re staring," Lance whispered with a shy smile.

Fernando’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Can you blame me?"

Lance leaned down, pressing another kiss to Fernando’s lips — slow, lingering, full of unspoken emotions. He felt weightless, like the world outside didn’t exist. It was just them, tangled together in his bed, lost in each other.

Until the front door slammed.

"Lance? You home?"

Lance froze, his eyes wide with panic. "Shit. My dad!"

Fernando sat up quickly, steadying Lance with a firm grip on his waist. "Calm down."

"Calm down? Fernando, if he sees you —" Lance scrambled off the bed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on in a hurry. "He’ll freak the hell out!"

"Language," Fernando stood, slipping on and buttoning his shirt with calm precision. "We’ll handle it."

"Handle it?" Lance hissed, pacing the room. "You’re my professor! He’s already skeptical about me bringing you up so much. If he sees you here —"

Fernando crossed the room in a few strides, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. "Trust me."

There was a knock at the door. "Lance? I heard you moving around. Are you okay?"

Lance swallowed hard, looking to Fernando, who gave him a reassuring nod before slipping into the closet. Lance took a deep breath and opened the door, forcing a smile.

"Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m fine. Just… studying."

Lawrence raised an eyebrow. "Studying? You’ve never been this enthusiastic about your classes before."

Lance laughed nervously. "Business ethics is really… compelling."

Lawrence gave him a skeptical look before stepping inside, glancing around the room. "What’s that smell?"

Lance’s heart raced. "Uh… scented candle. Helps me focus."

Lawrence narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it, but thankfully, he didn’t push further. "All right. Dinner’s in an hour. Don’t be late."

"Got it," Lance said quickly, ushering his dad out of the room.

The moment the door closed, Fernando stepped out of the closet, straightening his shirt. "That was close."

Lance groaned, collapsing onto the bed. "Too close."

Fernando chuckled, sitting beside him. "He’s gone. You’re fine."

Lance peeked up at him, still flushed. "What if he figures it out?"

Fernando leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s forehead. "I'll figure it out, I've got you Lancito."

Lance’s heart swelled at the words, and he couldn’t help but smile. "You really mean that?"

"I’ve already taken the risk. You’re worth it." Fernando’s eyes softened before he started up again, "Also, you've mentioned me to your father?"

"Nando I— Sir—" Lance stumbled over his words, obviously embarrassed at the topic being brought back up.

Fernando couldn’t help but smirk at Lance’s flustered state, watching with amusement as the younger man sat up, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to compose himself.

"You called me Nando," Fernando teased, his voice low and warm. "And Sir? Interesting combination."

Lance groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I can’t believe this is happening."

Fernando chuckled, reaching out to gently pull Lance’s hands away from his face. "Relax, Lancito. I’m only teasing."

"But my dad—" Lance started, his brows furrowed with concern.

Fernando shook his head, his expression calm and confident. "Your father doesn’t scare me."

Lance snorted. "He scares me."

Fernando laughed softly, his thumb brushing over Lance’s cheek. "That’s because you are his son. He wants the best for you."

Lance sighed, leaning into the touch. "Yeah, well, I don’t think he’d consider this the best for me."

Fernando’s gaze softened. "Maybe not at first. But he’ll see it eventually."

"You really believe that?" Lance asked, his voice quiet.

"I do." Fernando tilted Lance’s chin up, their eyes locking. "And even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t change how I feel."

Lance’s heart raced at the sincerity in Fernando’s gaze. "How do you feel?"

"I have an hour to show you."

Lance’s eyes widened, his breath hitching at Fernando’s words — he couldn't seem to breathe normally around Fernando. The boldness of the statement sent a shiver down his spine. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

Fernando smirked, leaning in to brush his lips against Lance’s ear. "Unless, of course, you’re too scared."

That was all it took.

Lance grabbed Fernando’s collar, pulling him into a heated kiss. It wasn’t cautious like before — this was urgent, desperate. They didn't have time to waste. Their mouths moved together in perfect rhythm, all their pent-up tension finally unleashed. Lance’s hands slid down Fernando’s chest, feeling the muscle beneath his shirt before tugging it off again.

Fernando’s hands roamed Lance’s body, finding their way under his shirt and tracing over every inch of his skin. "You’re so fucking perfect," he murmured between kisses, his voice husky.

Lance blushed but didn’t stop. "You’ve got an hour, right? Better not waste it."

Fernando chuckled, his teeth grazing Lance’s lower lip before gently pulling him toward the bed. "Oh, I won’t."

They stumbled onto the mattress, Lance straddling Fernando as their kisses deepened. Lance’s shirt joined Fernando’s on the floor, followed quickly by the rest of their clothes, until nothing was between them but heat and skin.

Fernando’s fingers trailed down Lance’s spine, making him shiver. "I want to remember every inch of you," Fernando whispered, his lips brushing over Lance’s jaw, down his neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

Lance’s head fell back, a soft moan escaping him. "Then don’t stop."

Fernando didn’t.

He traced every curve, every freckle, every scar with his lips and hands, committing Lance to memory. Lance’s hands tangled in Fernando’s hair, tugging gently as their bodies moved together, finding a rhythm that was all their own.

Time seemed to blur as they lost themselves in each other. The world outside didn’t matter — not Lawrence, not their risks, not the consequences. Just them.

Finally, as they lay tangled together in the sheets, their breathing steadying, Lance ran a hand over Fernando’s chest, tracing the tattoo that marked his forearm as the tattoo on his back stayed in the back of his mind.

"I can’t believe this is real," Lance murmured.

Fernando smiled, pressing a kiss to Lance’s temple. "It is. And it’s ours."

Lance nestled closer, resting his head on Fernando’s shoulder. "You’re staying?"

Fernando nodded. "For as long as you’ll have me."

Lance smiled against his skin. "Then don’t go."

"I’m not going anywhere." Fernando wrapped his arms around Lance, holding him close before pulling back again, "but you're going to eat with your father."

(Next)

[yanderepuck]

Do they get lost easily? What is their sense of direction like?

Napoleon: he's got a great sense of direction, until he gets distracted. Can not multitask. You will get lost. Has gone the wrong direction to the mansion many times because a kid he teaches came up to him and started talking to him. But he also knows the streets of Paris very well so it's easy for him to get back on track

Mozart: decent???? It's not like he's going out anyway to be able to learn what is where. But as long as he can eventually find the Seine he's fine

Leonardo: almost perfect but what else do you expect. Man used to make maps. However he will never admit if he is lost, he'll never ask someone for help and he's going to make you believe he knows where he is going

Vincent: it took him a month to find the kitchen in the mansion. Do not send this boy outside. What were you thinking. He's checking Google maps every block even though he's walking straight for 10 minutes.

Theo: very good. He goes to word places for clients and he knows about dumb little alleys for shortcuts. They look sketchy as hell but when he's in a hurry he doesn't care.

Arthur: not as good as you would think but not bad. Yes he is very aware of his surroundings but he also gets lost in his thoughts a lot. He's also not asking for directions.

Isaac: not a clue. He has to take the same route every time to the university or he will get lost, even if he's just one street over.

Dazai: it's not that he has a great sense of situation it's the fact that he will just climb a building into the roof and look around to get an idea of where he needs to go.

Jean: he also goes the same route every time, but if a street is closed he doesn't panic, but he always ends up taking a very long route. 'i know a short cut' one hour later.

Will: very reliant on landmarks. He takes a carriage just about everywhere so he knows things from looking out the window. He knows the area around the theater but after a certain point he is lost.

Comte: he only has two locations in his head. The mansion and the bakery baguette store. No where else. He relies on a carriage so much.

Sebastian: he's giving you the most detailed directions. He knows the sketchy little alley ways. He may not have been to that specific store but he can get you there no hesitation.

Vlad: oddly yeah. He walks around with his flower cart after all. He might be a little hesitant on something, but he's getting you there eventually.

Faust: as long as he starts from the church he can get you anywhere. Very reliant on landmarks.

Charles: for as dense as he is, he's pretty good with direction. But he gets distracted easily so he ends up going in the opposite direction anyway.

Drake: immaculate. Better than Leonardo maybe. He's a pirate after all. He's got a compass in his head I'm sure.

Galileo: for someone who studies the stars he's not good with left and right. He's not a complete loss but give him a moment and he'll get you there. Is half and half in asking for directions

[discordiansamba]

But what if actual werewolf Rin?

anon you can't ask me things like this because I'll end up rotating them all day. i was a Werewolf Girl in middle school and fundamentally, I am still a Werewolf Girl. the earth goes round and round and some things never change.

love mulling over how werewolves and lycanthropy would work in this particular universe to start out with. werewolves are demons who possess wolves, and lycanthropy is a particular kind of mashou that their bite can cause. hundreds of years ago, it used to twist and transform the body and warp the mind, but these days it can be managed with medicine as long as the patient begins treatment early. lycanthropes are rare, and there aren't many lycanthropes who can actually transform anymore. in fact, there shouldn't even be any werewolves in japan. there's no wolves.

except for the one the Illuminati brought in for their elixir research. that escaped.

the egin family never fell into ruin. yuri was never abandoned in a junkyard. she never had her fateful encounter with satan, and therefore satan never began to grow an ego. but god itself could not stop her from her true destiny: being a Weird Girl(tm), so she still grows up fascinated with demons and ends up becoming an exorcist and working for the true cross order anyways.

(she still meets shiro as a child, briefly running away from home after arguing with her parents. even after she's returned to her parents, she never forgets him.)

rin and yukio are still born. they actually get to be shiro's biological kids this time, because things end up working out between him and yuri in this universe. they get to have some happiness, I think.

(mephisto is just like. hm. well this timeline is already so weird that this might as well happen.)

things fall apart in section 13 on their own, and lucifer still abandons it, and forms the Illuminati. werewolves have high regenerative properties, so naturally, they're an enticing research subject. the escape was not part of the plan, nor was it fleeing into more populated territory. or: mephisto hears that an unfortunate child was bitten in the process of subduing the werewolf, and was therefore infected with lycanthropy.

it's okumura fujimoto rin.

(mephisto doesn't even try not to laugh. it figures that in the one timeline he's actually human, that doesn't end up lasting long. this is amusing! he has no idea how this timeline will turn out, but it's certainly intriguing enough to keep around!)

Shiro is a clone of Azazel, strengthened by elixir research, so Rin was already showing signs of being sturdier than the average human regardless of being. well. human. lycanthropy just kicked it up a significant notch.

local lycanthrope is incredibly bad at actually taking his medication, and that's really the crux of it all. local lycanthrope has ADHD. constantly forgets to take his meds once he's old enough to be expected to keep track of them himself.

rin is way more influenced by his lycanthropy than the average lycanthrope is supposed to be. he takes his medication well enough to avoid most negative effects of lycanthropy, but he's more than capable of transforming into a wolf, if he wants. which he does.

yuri voice: we can't just rely only on the medication anyways. he should make peace with his inner wolf. i'm going to teach him to meditate.

(shiro and shura are skeptical. but yuri's approach works. she's not one of the most talented Tamers of her generation for nothing.)

i feel like shura also lives with the four of them. she's part of the family. the cool big sister who teaches rin how to use a sword. it's a struggle because he keeps breaking every wooden sword she brings him for a hot minute there.

(shiro still teaches him to control his strength by teaching him to cook.)

yukio still begins to train as an exorcist early, but by that I mean, like. thirteen years old early and not single digits early. he's still a prodigy, but he's a lower ranked exorcist than he is in canon by the time he turns thirteen. he works as shiro's teacher's aide in cram school.

shiro still ends up being the paladin. no rest for you.

yuri homeschools rin until middle school. his middle school debut goes about as well as expected. he's only talked into attending high school because exorcism cram school is dangled in front of him.

incredibly funny mental image of rin having yuri's affinity for demons except he has absolutely zero talent as a tamer in spite of this. can't summon shit.

rin knows the name of his condition perfectly fine. but he's also afflicted by 'curse of biting his lip when he tries to say lycanthropy' and misspeaking a disproportionate amount of the time.

godaiin voice: my roommate is a delinquent who secretly brought his cat into the dorms with him. this is fine. i'm fine.

(he quickly learns rin isn't as scary as he seems at first glance.)

rin: (<----trying to keep the whole lycanthrope thing under wraps at cram school. not everyone's wild about that sort of thing. except he sucks at it, because he's never really tried to keep it under wraps. he is truly in refuge in audacity territory because no one expects to meet a lycanthrope in japan.)

(rin locking eyes with izumo's familiars. canine to canine communication.)

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

GN! TA Reader x Professor Jonathan Crane Headcanons: 

Characters: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow); Gender Neutral! Reader 

Universe: Nolanverse (Batman Film Trilogy) 

Pairing(s): The beginning of a one-sided Jonathan Crane/Reader, if you squint 

Word Count: 1.6k 

A/N: It’s that time of year when I rewatch the Nolanverse Batman films and obsess over every frame that Cillian Murphy is on screen. (Okay, but he absolutely killed it, and what I wouldn't give to see him counter Robert Pattinson’s Batman.) This combined with reading some other Scarecrow/Reader fics has accumulated into this little plot bunny of my own. And yes, while I say these are headcanons, it’s more like extended fic. I truly tried to keep it short but, much like Dickens and Hemingway cannot seem to help myself when it comes to writing extended sentences. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

ALSO— in answer to the question you’re no doubt wondering—Yes! Answers to submitted asks will return after this deviation. I’ve just had this character circling in my head the past few days and I couldn’t get him out. 

TW!: Slight Manipulative/Yandere (by Crane, but nothing explicit); Also, please beware the formatting gets more unhinged/distracting as you read on, so if you have tracking issues or sensitive eyes, please be wary

Catching Professor Crane’s Attention Would Look Like: 

You were a great student, (obviously!), one the brightest and most dedicated in his class for you to be his TA. 

At first, Professor Crane found your enthusiasm and attentiveness annoying. He pegged you for yet another professional student brownnoser failing to get on his good side. 

Most of his TA’s enthusiasm eventually fizzled out once they realized flattery would get them no further in his gradebook. That, and his more advanced courses were incredibly demanding— they took a decent chunk of any student’s time and energy. 

Much to his surprise, not only did your cheery demeanor fail to vanish, but you somehow stayed on top of every bit of work he assigned. On top of which, you excelled in your role as Teacher’s Assistant, practically teaching half of the lessons when he was too busy with his, let’s just say, other proclivities, to make it to lecture on time.  

Jonathan was impressed when he learned you’ve spent nearly every spare moment you had in his official lab’s research library, reading through all of his previous labs’ notes and official documentation. He didn’t allow students, not even students of the Psychology Department, to make Xerox copies or check out his work— it was only available for temporary reading and viewing within the confines of his dedicated lab space.

He caught a glimpse of your notebook one day, having actually made it on time to be able to teach his lecture, seeing how meticulously you’ve copied down his experiments’ notes. In the past, only his most advanced students bothered to take notes on his previous work, and at best, they’d simply record the abstracts from his many published theses. 

He should have found it alarming, as opposed to intriguing. If one was to truly study his notes, they’d find vague little inconsistencies across his verbiage from where he was forced to omit information to cover his tracks. A smart enough person might be able to piece together that something else had been his true point of study in his experiments, and that meant having to dazzle the university board with bullshit and bribery once again. He had to take care of you and neutralize the threat before that happened. 

He should have felt resigned, indifferent to the unavoidable fate you’d just sealed for yourself. Instead, he wanted you to continue; he wanted to poke and prod you as you tried to figure it out. Observing you had turned into an utterly fascinating pastime to him.

He spoke to you after class one evening and enquired as to why you felt compelled to copy his exact notes down. Did you perhaps intend to parrot his findings as your own? Was this an ill-advised attempt at plagiarism? He comes off as cross, perhaps harsh, in his line of questioning, but he desperately needed to know how you’d respond to such an interrogative line of questioning. 

The question of ‘Why?’ had been gnawing at his psyche for days, even during his newfound dealings with Falcone and his thugs, and that simply would not do. He could not get distracted by some suck-up student. His work on secretly developing the most stable version of his toxic compound all while flying under the radar of his nosy, stupid University higher-ups was much more important than the mental inner workings of some lowly college student. His intrigue slowly turned to anger.

After you tell him you’re more fascinated by “the why of the why”— all his ruminations stop cold. You weren’t flustered, weren’t defensive, weren’t sniveling and begging for his forgiveness like the ones who have come before you, oh no. Instead, you met his gaze directly and answered his question with what sounded like a riddle. Your evasive answer officially moved the dial and Crane’s intrigue became replaced with disdain. 

How dare you?! Do you think your measly intellect could ever stump him? It would be almost laughable if it didn’t make his jaw clench and his nostrils flare. But Crane is nothing if not a control freak. So he did what any wise control freak would do, and decided to change the setting of the fight back to his familiar home turf. 

“I see.” Professor Dr. Crane kept his answers curt and restrained as per his usual. “I must admit you’d be the first student applying such a subjective angle to your thesis all while using a rather definitive lens. We should discuss your topic in depth before you waste any more time writing potentially unobjective garbage. Office Hours are posted on my door. I expect to see you before our lecture next week.” 

You were in your last year of University, with a declared double major in Psychology and Biochemistry, with a minor in Creative Writing of all things. By this time, you had undoubtedly outlined the controls for your upcoming psychological lab requirement for your Advanced Independent Study next semester. Of course, an Advanced Independent Study requirement for a Psychology Major was nothing compared to those seeking a Doctorate or Ph.D. However, it still involved a substantial amount of clinical time spent organizing and studying volunteers from your academic peers. 

If his work on fear and fear stimulation hormones was a similar area of interest, it could prove bothersome. If your… experiment was similar enough in nature, and it failed to yield similar results, it might encourage the University Board to take a closer look at his synthesized “fear hormone”. The morons on the board had accepted his previous explanation of whatever pharmaceutical mumbo-jumbo he’d thrown at them. A little cortisol here, a little adrenaline there… And those fools had bought it hook line and sinker! 

You arrived at his office the next morning, your usual bright and shiny self. Of course, you had signed up for the first available slot the following day, and of course, you showed up with even more coffee and donuts in hand. 

If you were anyone else, Dr. Crane would feel insulted that you thought you could quite literally sugar him up. But judging from the sincere look on your face to the way your own eyes lit up when he accepted the coffee, made him think bribery was the last thing on your agenda. It unnerved him how he failed to find an ulterior, more insidious motive within you. 

You explained that in your class lectures, you recalled Dr. Professor Crane had spoken about the major causes of fear, as well as its evolutionary purpose. You couldn't help but wonder, in the modern day and age, when humans were no longer nomads, no longer living in pre-industrial conditions, if that evolutionary aspect of fear hurt more than it helped. 

Your lab proposal went as followed: You wished to pool a large group of students, determine what their primary and secondary greatest fears were, and then, through a series of pre-set further questions, see if you could catalog how many such fears either 1) helped the individual’s behavior, or 2) merely hindered it. 

Jonathan found it a modest proposal, for your grade level anyway. And it would serve as a good taste of what working in either a clinical or research setting would look like after furthering your education and licensing accreditation. 

Unable to stop ruminating over the personal reasons as to why you found this fascinating, his obsessive nature prevented him from striking your proposal down. ‘What could be the harm?’ He asked himself after giving your study outline his official approval. You were nowhere near his intelligence level. Even with all your scribbling and copying of his notes, it was unlikely you’d ever uncover his plot. Besides, should push come to shove, all he’d need to do was ask Falcone for a favor, have you bumped off before things started to get too involved, too messy… 

But a little mess? A little chaos? The idea sent a chill down Crane’s spine. It was the thrill of the chase, the inevitable mouse and cat, predator and prey dynamics that drove him to master the power of fear for himself. It was that addictive rush of adrenaline— the way it stroked his well-deserving ego— the way his victims screamed and cried and begged for mercy before him. 

Crane wasn’t oblivious as to why he relished such power. He was a psychologist after all. The doctor was well aware that childhood trauma was a powerful thing, an unstoppable perimeter in what made people tick. Professor Doctor Crane knew that he was rotten, yes— vile, at his core. It was that exact rot that enabled him not to care. 

Fear was the ultimate equalizer, it was the ultimate revenge. No one, not even himself could ever truly escape it, not entirely anyway. No amount of toxin tolerance or cognitive behavioral therapy, medication, or meditation could stop the chokehold fear had on all human beings. 

It seemed you knew that too… Why else would you have as much of a fascination with it? Why else would you scour his notes so intently? It was rather ironic, Jonathan thought to himself, one night, hidden deep in his basement Arkham Asylum Lab: it seemed fear ruled you just as much as it ruled him. 

Perhaps, with the right persuasion, and the right exposure, you would be open to exploring greater boundaries and experimenting with fear. 

Not once prior had Jonathan ever considered acquiring an assistant— someone to work on his toxin with. It was far too risky to have such little benefit. Everyone was far too stupid, too simple to realize the true greatness of what he was working on, the true greatness that Ra's al Ghul would help him release upon Gotham, and soon, the world. But you…. hmm. 

You— he would have to keep a closer eye on. 

A/N 2.0: Whoo! There you have it! My first official DC fandom post!

And if you enjoyed it, *Sabrina Carpenter voice* please, please, please REBLOG! Likes are great but Reblogs spread my writing much further.

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