#or work thing or school class or anything

[xiaprint]

frat rules | minors dni

the minute that caleb got his acceptance letter in the mail, you had mixed feelings. there was plenty of pride, so much that it felt overwhelming. he had worked hard from the start and remained top of his graduating class, he was a model student. things were never once handed to caleb but he always managed to make the most with what he had. it was a talent and he did it with charisma, making it impossible for others to pity him. he didn’t like to accept charity or kind favors, so taking everything on the chin with his boyish smile was his signature move.

still, everyone knew what college was about. a stepping stone for a sparkling future career, sure— but the real fun was in the freedom. away from the family and childhood friends, given that golden opportunity to completely rewrite who you were. it was the prime time to drop the formalities and sleep around, get shitfaced, make new connections with people who were thrown into the same situation of the unknown.

maybe it scared you, just a little. he’d be forever away, he’d be establishing new friendships, he’d possibly be dodging flirty advances left and right. the caleb you knew, sweet and doting and utterly in love with every fiber of your being could very well take a liking to the change.

of course, voicing these insecurities and doubts wasn’t an option. caleb had been practically buzzing since he learned that he’d be attending flight school in skyhaven. killing the fun, ruining the good mood— it felt harsh. this was the first time that something was being offered to him without asking for anything in return, the one chance to be selfish and put himself first. you knew that if you said something, he would surely reconsider. that’s who he was.

so dwelling was the way to go. you sulked in private, supported in caleb’s face. you focused on saving face at his celebratory dinner. you counted down the weeks, mood souring as they turned into days. you kissed his cheek once you said your goodbye’s at the airport. it felt like sending off a piece of yourself but caleb was capable of handling himself. he’d be just fine.

however, you were completely unaware of how much he struggled. he was a socialite at heart and had no problem making friends with his roommate, no problem meeting his roommates friends. the classes started up about a week after move in and before long, he was familiar with skyhaven and what it had to offer. caleb blended in perfectly with the atmosphere, content with his professors and the hands on aspect of his training.

despite being miles upon miles apart, he still put forth the effort. he door dashed your favorites around dinner time on the occasion and he tracked your location like a hawk. he facetimed you when he had downtime and picked up every single call even if he was busy. after all, it was in his nature to take care of his little slice of home back in linkon city now that she was on her own.

the adjustment became easier with time for the both of you. life went on, things got hectic. there would be a few days of pure radio silence on both ends because the course load was heavy in flight school and you had your own business to worry about.

holidays rolled in and you finally had an excuse to fly out. it was a deliberate little plan that you conjured in secret, leaving caleb out of the many details. you bought your own plane ticket, took it upon yourself to travel to the academy. things calmed down in your personal life so the time was right, everything in place.

you didn’t, however, expect a guy who wasn’t caleb to answer his dorm’s door. the dots were connected rather quickly when you were reminded that caleb was rooming with another student for his first semester, recognizing gideon from photos posted by the academy’s official socials. it was clear that he had company, a bunch of guys laughing and joking around over bass playing from the tv. your eyes fell to study the can of busch light in his roommates hand, raising a brow.

“is caleb around?”

it takes gideon a few seconds to process your words, especially over the shouting and loud music blaring behind him, scratching his chin before lighting up like a christmas tree. he recognized you from all of the photos, the facetime calls, caleb’s never-ending rambles about his girl back home. “oh shit! he’s gonna be over the moon!”

with some introductions and gentle guidance around the house, gideon leads you to caleb’s room. clean, neat, very little decor. he was a minimalist at heart, only ever taking it upon himself to make things look nice if he knew that you’d be sharing the space with him. you were shocked but not surprised to find caleb at his desk, red solo cup tipped sideways on the wood. his cheeks were flushed as he rests his head against his elbow, bleary eyes staring at the single picture frame by his laptop.

it held a photo of you, of course. taken from his point of view, his hand reaching up to help you off of a tree. all you ever did at the time was giggle and refuse to come down, only worried about keeping your bucket hat on your head.

“i didn’t know my caleb was a sentimental drunk,” your voice coos in his ear gently as your arms curl around his shoulders, tucking your face against his warm face. it causes him to jump, slow in reaction to breathe you in. a few beats pass before he’s shooting up like a rocket to pull your body into a hug. it was snug and tight, his balance faltering a bit.

he smelled. smelled familiar, smelled like aftershave. he smelled like jameson whiskey and spice mixed with home. it lingered on the collar of his dress shirt, black with a popped collar. there was no helping the way you stuffed your face into the fabric, huffing him in and letting the scent pull you in like a riptide.

“why are you here?” he asks softly, reeling back to get a good look at the girl in front of him. he was thankful that gideon read the room for once, exiting and closing the door behind him. “how are you here? i thought you were preparing for a hunter’s exam.”

the flurry of questions is a little out of character for caleb and it’s obvious that he’s a bit tipsy, stumbling over his excitement and need to know. this was the reaction you’ve been looking for after handling the specifics in secret— catching caleb off guard was always fulfilling. he got so giddy, forever easy to please.

“it’s called a surprise, you big dummy,” your voice sounds like liquid honey in his ears, so overwhelmed with love and happiness as he simply stares back at you. a few blinks, really taking you in. it felt as though you matured more since the last time he saw you, growing into your features. it tugged at his heart and he doesn’t even realize the way he’s backing you up slowly, guiding you onto his bed.

it’s hard, very unlike the one back at home. the frame is rough and made of wood, the mattress flat and small. it’s a miracle that caleb can even sleep comfortably on it but he was good at making the most of any situation. the man grew to be very simple, never one to be picky. your head hits the pillow and giggles fly out of your mouth, caleb taking that chance to rain the skin of your extended neck in kisses.

everything following blurs. his friends are still being loud just a door away, chanting as they initiate a stupid drinking game. their endeavors are the last thing on your mind as caleb grinds against your leg, as he kisses you until your lips hurt with the desperate weight of them. he holds you like glass, runs his calloused fingertips along your skin with carefulness. one track mind, only focused on getting you bare against his sheets.

your jeans are a struggle to pull off of your thighs in his inebriated state, groaning softly in annoyance when they get caught at your knees. you assist with a huff of a giggle, unable to ignore the way his eyes flutter at the sight of you. a breathy laugh leaves him at the sight of the pink bow on your panties. “you never change, huh?” he whispers with a shake of his head, expressing his disbelief.

the urge to slap his arm in retaliation is strong but this wasn’t the time and place. there was a heavy amount of tension in the air that needed to be fixed, an ache that he needed to soothe between your legs. the impatience was only getting stronger and he could sense it in the way you pawed at his own pants, swift in the way you pop the button open.

he works at his shirt at the same time, practically ripping the buttons off of the fabric, shoving his sleeves down his arms until it lands on the bed with your top. the sheer rush of flipping you onto your tummy with the brute strength he’s built in the recreation center, of making sure you’re ready with his fingers before sliding inside. it floods you with adrenaline, moaning weakly once his dick finally sinks in.

and oh, he got bigger since you last saw him. you could feel it in his grip strength, holding onto your hips and fucking you back onto his cock. it was inevitable that he would grow over the course of the year but it was so much at once. bigger biceps, beefier pecs, thicker thighs. it had you winded, gasping for oxygen as your cheek rubs against his comforter.

“oh, baby,” he coos between heavy pants of hot air, leaning to hover, pressing his bare abdomen along your arched back. he cages you in like a predator, his chain being the only cool touch as it settles between your shoulder blades. “oh, baby. you got tighter since last time. pussy’s so hungry, baby.”

filth fills the air. skin on skin, the scent of sex and juice and sweat mixing with the apple scented air freshener he has plugged in by his dresser. your moans drown in the fabric of his pillowcase, barely having enough restraint to keep quiet. all you want to do is pull your face out of the pillow, to scream and let caleb know just how good he’s giving it to you. how it’ll never be anyone but him for you, how he’s the only man who can feel you this deep.

not that you needed to know, but caleb had been missing you terribly so. every weekend would be dedicated to partying, his roommates constantly dragging him out for some beer and a good time. he wanted to embrace the chance, he wanted to make the most of his young adult years. still, he couldn’t get out of his own head. wondering what you were doing, who you were talking to, if you were drying yourself off after a shower and keeping up with the show you told him about and watering the bonsai tree he left on his nightstand.

he couldn’t get over the fact that you were alone. for the first time, you were genuinely alone. it saddened him to think of you eating dinner alone, folding one basket of laundry, waking up in an empty bed. this surprise visit was just what he needed to soothe his nerves.

“they assigned me a plane, my very own aircraft,” caleb murmurs into your ear with sensual kisses to the lobe. the pace never falters, guts battered by his tip while he sucks your skin into his mouth. his tongue swirls along it and a groan leaves him as he lets it go. “i’ll show you after this, yeah? take you to my plane and fuck you in the cockpit.”

the pace simply never slows. it’s consistent, steady. his headboard ruts against the wall with soft thuds that would be otherwise extremely noticeable if not for the rowdiness happening in his kitchen. he hasn’t felt the warmth of your cunt in such a long time, hasn’t felt like himself since he left your side. it has him gasping, has his jaw nearly locked open with groans that mold with your own.

your ass rocks so nastily with every thrust, rippling for his eyes only. he can’t resist the urge of grabbing for a feel, watching the skin flood between his fingers. you’ve always been the prettiest, have always been the only girl his eyes dared to study. nothing hits right when it isn’t you, getting off has been a struggle in itself. porn could never capture this.

heat coils in his stomach, knots up in warning. your pussy is soaking him, glossing his thighs and his pelvis. your essence sticks to him like glue, creating filthy smacks each time his hips slap against your ass— just the way he liked it. it told him he was doing his job, let him know that your body loved him just as much as your mind did.

“i missed your cock,” the sound of your broken voice pulls him out of his trance, the pleasure so burning hot that his toes curl in his shoes. you’ve always fed his fantasies like a fire, spiting dirty words right back at him on reflex. you were the most beautiful to him when you were speaking your mind, all he ever wanted was to pick your brain.

“stretching you out just right, isn’t it?” he murmurs sweetly between pants, nuzzling his nose into your hair. the hand you’ve got twisted up in his duvet is quickly covered by his own, sluggishly threading his fingers with yours. “just the way you like it. i’ve been neglecting my baby.”

his words earn rapid clenches from your walls. it makes him shudder, gnawing at his bottom lip in hopes of masking a pathetic moan. the thought of ever straying from this, of having to wait another few months for another chance to make love to you physically hurts him. he wants to make the most of it, wants round after round until your legs are shaking and your body is twitching.

a knock interrupts his train of thought, sends electric shocks up his spine. gideon’s slurred complaint is barely audible through the thick wood of the closed door, the mere thrill mixed with slight panic making caleb shamelessly shoot a thick load inside of you.

[bnprime]

why aren’t there enough pediatricians? it’s all because we don’t live in a planned economy. look. we know what the population is, and what the demographics of the population are. thus, we can approximate to a very reasonable degree what our 1. medical needs are now, 2. what our medical needs will be in the future. we have more than enough students who want to be doctors. we could look at present and future demand, and then train exactly the right number of people to fill exactly those needs. no one would be overworked, no one would be underworked. it would be a fucking math problem. but we can’t. we can’t do it like that because of how our society works. we are, as a society, TERRIFIED of overpaying someone from the working class, or allowing someone from the working class to collect a cheque for anything less than a “full time” amount of work. and what is considered “full time” is an arbitrary number guessed by a consultant in 1963, and then passed around by management like it was gospel ever since. so the way it works is that you got the “employers” who tell the world that they think it would be profitable for them to hire one more doctor or one more nurse or one more janitor… really they need 17 more because everyone is overworked, but that’s how profit works. then on the other side, you got 18 year olds GUESSING about what careers might be fruitful 20 years down the road. then on a 3rd side you got post secondary schools GUESSING the number of students who will want to take loans to fill their seats and keeping faculty paid. the entire thing hinges on GUESSING on one side, and OVERWORKING PEOPLE FOR THE SAKE OF PROFIT on the other side. and in places where socialized medicine exists, the managers have to MIMIC THE CULTURE OF THE PROFIT SEEKING COUNTRIES, and so you get the same problem. in a planned economy you could streamline it all. the census people talk to the hospital people who (at the national level) talk to the universities, who tell the students how many people they can take. the med students (if they can make it through) are guaranteed a good job, and we all get pediatricians.

[corpseontheloose]

A whisker away ── .✦

Pairing: Nam-gyu x f!reader

Summary: you are actively feeding the stray cattos near the club he works at

A/N: I personally spend some of my savings on feeding the stray cats (occasionally dogs if I see any) and if you have the possibility to do the same, trust me, the pets will be extremely grateful <3 also the title is inspired by the animated movie "a whisker away" on Netflix 😺 part two is here!!!

Warnings: mentions of smoking weed,drugs (such as ecstasy) mentions of death (it doesn't happen tho)

Whoever thought about putting a club a few houses away from a school was an absolute genius (sarcastically)

College students, especially the evening students with evening classes, would spend 3-4 hours listening to booming music and occasionally new singer wannabes during their lessons

Luckily for you, most of the time the teacher was writing on the board, and you just had to rewrite everything on your papers, which was great; it gave you the possibility to have your headphones on and ignore the outside

However, some students were cursed with whatever new song Thanos came up with for tonight.

Once the lessons end, you, as usual, gather your things pretty quickly before putting your headphones away in your bag, making your way out of the building followed by others

You weren't extremely tired, just very bored. Which caused you to be a bit sleepy.

It's a good thing you chose evening lessons. You get to sleep until 6 PM, need to attend 4 hours of classes (if you feel like it), study for a few hours, and BOOM! Free time.

And you had enough time to study at home, too. A quieter place for absorbing the notes into your brain

On your way home, you always end up cornering the street that goes almost to the back of an alley, right behind the club that was bothering your classmates pretty much every night

It was your routine to come here every evening after class. Because beautiful pairs of eyes waited hungrily for you to bring them kibbles and leftovers from your breakfast

There were ten hungry bellies in total, and you always made sure all of them were full before you could leave home peacefully

You were surprised as to why the loud music never scared the cats away, but perhaps they already got used to it at this point

As you pet the fur of your colored furry friends, you hear a click of a door echoing in the alley

The cats couldn't care less about the sounds or the two people that just burst out from inside the club. They were too busy munching on their food

You curiously looked at the scene, trying not to draw too much attention.

Two guys were leaning on the nearest wall, sucking from their joints and talking about Holy Spaghetti knows what.

One had black hair, while the other dude had purple-dyed hair. They both seemed strong enough, but also extremely stoned

You were pretty skeptical about leaving the cats in here with some junkie dudes, but you were also paranoid about your life and how dangerous staying here could be

Until one of them spotted you. The one with black hair, who looked more wasted than the other guy

He just stared at you, long, shamelessly, before returning his gaze back to his friend. "She's feeding the cats again..."

"Who?" the other one asked, peeking over his shoulder

"The girl I told you about. She keeps bringing kibbles for the fur balls"

You couldn't properly hear what they were talking about, but you were grateful for the fact that they left you alone and didn't approach you, high as they were.

"What's wrong with some community help, huh? She's not doing anything wrong, my man"

The black-haired man scoffed, rolling his eyes at his friend as he stole looks from you from time to time.

"It's just... pathetic. You almost feel pitiful when you look at that," he answered his friend's words, taking a drag from the joint and letting the high sink in deeper

"Compassion is a virtue not everyone possesses. It's pretty admirable, my homie. Try to view it differently"

After a while, you decided it was time to head home and prepare some Buldak while binge-watching one of the few shows you truly liked. You missed your couch dearly.

The next evening was the same. Class at 6 PM. At 10 PM you gathered your papers and pens then got right back to haunting the streets of Korea for your fur friends

For a few days everything was normal, calm, like the usual atmosphere. You'd leave the kibbles, pet their scratched faces, then leave to go eat for yourself.

Until this evening

Once again, the doors opened. Not suddenly, not forcefully. Just opened. Then closed

You recognized the man. You saw him a few days ago with his friend,

He looked... bad. Like he hit rock bottom. His face was a mess, probably from all the substances he was consuming

You felt a bit relieved knowing it was him and not someone else. A familiar face was easier to duck than some stranger whose intentions with you were unknown

He sat down on the stairs, letting himself fall over the door and slowly slide down onto it until it felt comfortable enough

You watched. Not because you wanted to say something, but because you had this internal sympathy for him and his actions. You never knew what someone's going through, and you were glad you had that mentality

He didn't observe you at first; you were practically invisible to him. The drugs worked so well he was actually feeling the ecstasy kicking in.

After getting used to the feeling, he started to look around. He then spotted you in the same spot you always crouched at

His instinct was to scoff at you, roll his eyes, and ignore you. However... Maybe it was the Ecstasy, or perhaps what Thanos told him a few days ago, because he didn't find himself taking his eyes off of you like he'd usually do

He just stared.

"Why are you always feeding them?" you hear those words from your right.

You froze, not wanting to engage in any conversations with drug addicts, especially those who are already intoxicated

You didn't answer. You tried to remain calm as he shifted from his seat, walking towards you.

"I'm not here to scold you or anything—I just want to know why you're wasting your time on them"

Your instincts wanted to run. You definitely didn't know him and his intentions, but you've seen the way he wobbled towards you. You chose to stay calm instead.

"They've been here since I started working; no one really gave a damn about them. Then you... started showing up for the past few months."

You nodded slowly, petting their furs.

"I can't stand the sight of hungry animals," you reply softly, looking up at him

He seemed harmless, almost.

"They've been doing better since you started coming here..." he mumbled, crouching down on the pavement next to a wall to lean on

"I'll make sure not to stop, then," you assured, nodding in his direction

He didn't say anything; he just looked at you. His pupils were huge as his hands trembled slightly, but you saw the tiredness. It almost broke you

"Make sure they're all full,please." you kindly asked him, standing up on your feet and grabbing your bag from the ground

"What am I, cat security?" he asked with a scoff

But you simply chuckled, taking a few steps back slowly,"You might just become one"

You didn't see his face for a few days. It wasn't unusual; he barely went out for a breath of air or just to high himself up so you weren't expecting him, or anyone for that matter.

Today, though, the stars aligned. And as you wanted to take the turn to the alley behind the club, the guy met with your figure right at the front doors.

He curiously peeked in your direction before grinning and waving slightly at you.

"Here for the fur balls?"

You nodded, smiling slightly at him, "What else would I be here for?"

"I don't know, maybe you'd like a drink?" he shrugged, trying to give you an idea.

"I don't like drinking without my friends. And plus, it's a school day. I need to get back and study"

"You're in what, college?" He leaned on the metal bars next to him.

You learned his name. His life, in small proportions at least. His habits.

Today wasn't as lonely as the days before; he actually followed up with you in the alley corner and talked to you about different subjects while you were feeding your little friends

He still seemed skeptical about this; he couldn't see the point of feeding something that could easily be killed or taken away by tomorrow morning

But he still watched you. And, God, you were so kind to them

You seemed so sweet towards the cats, he couldn't help but think about how much he wishes someone would be just as sweet towards him

That'd be a joke, to be honest. Who would be sweet and compassionate to a screw-up like him? He barely deserved to occupy space on this planet

Nam-gyu made sure to always meet with you in that spot. He made it seem like an accident, but in reality, he'd check up the time and memorize your schedule just to see your sweet butt taking care of the cats

After a while it became a routine. He always sat with you, drugged or not, and talked about anything and everything while you took care of the small beings

"Wanna try? They don't bite, I promise," you asked while handing him a piece of chicken from your last lunch

For the first time he felt included in something that didn't mean work or drug dealing...

Nam-gyu's heart swelled the day he saw you bringing in a plastic box, rigid enough to hold steady during wind, and big enough for every one of them to curl inside and warm each other

"Autumn's coming. Thought about some shelter for them," you told him while placing soft blankets inside of the box, making it as comfortable as possible

"All of this for... them?" He seemed confused. He couldn't understand how much kindness can be in one person. It was almost sickening (in a good way)

Whenever you weren't around, for example, during 1 AM when the club was at its peak, he made sure to check up on the cats from time to time

Just to be sure no one disturbed or threw rocks at the harmless creatures

That basically became his second job. Cat security

Nam-gyu swears he didn't get attached to them, neither of you nor your companionship. He just felt like that was the right thing to do (he got attached)

And when he told you, casual as hell, you let out sweet "awww"s and "thank you, Nam-gyu, that's very nice of you"s that made him smirk under his nose

Little did you know that he wasn't as casual as you thought; he actually wanted to hear you praise him for the good work. He just didn't want to show it

But, hey! It worked!

Yeah, no, this dude fell in love. Hard.

He just didn't know how to act towards girls that seemed too good for him

He knew he'd fuck up one way or another. Whether it was with his drug addiction or just his way of being. It was always something with him...

But you accepted to go out with him either way!

That was a shock for him

He promised to take it slow with the drugs, even seek help at some point

But Nam-gyu was now protecting the cats whenever he had the chance to

It was like he became their father; that's how much responsibility he put into it.

And maybe it was because he also liked you. Like... REALLY liked you

He became softer with time. That's on you, of course

But whenever he backed into the alley to smoke a joint and escape the crowds for a while, he always sat with the cats and thought about you

Okay, he became attached to them as well

[ilikeblueberryz]

⸺ gojo satoru

(none of these works are mine ; jjk dividers from @uzma-qureshi ) Disclaimer : all fanfics listed here belong to their respective authors. please check out their profiles for more amazing work!

[ f ] fluff [ s ] smut [ a ] angst [ sm! ] social media!au [ n ] not safe for work

[ f ] ୨୧ if you want i can come inside ୨୧ nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue. (by @gojonanami)

୨୧ look at him ୨୧ your attempts at reentering the dating scene is foiled by your ex-husband. (by @stsgooo)

[ f ] ୨୧ "cold, cuddle, weather" ୨୧ your lover would do anything to have your attention on him and nothing or no one else. even if that meant competing with a stuffed toy. (by @sttoru)

[ f ] ୨୧ megumi's teacher ୨୧ (by @awearywritersworld)

[ a, s, f ] ୨୧ "took you long enough" ୨୧ when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. (by @/awearywritersworld)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ (by @augustinewrites)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ (by @/augustinewrites)

[ f ] ୨୧ stupid cupid ୨୧ gojo's desperate to get something from you, his unoffical partner (you just don't know it yet!) on valentine's day. what a pathetic loser. (by @suntoru)

[ f ] ୨୧ wingman ain't subtle ୨୧ (by @inupibaldspot)

[ f ] ୨୧ walk him like a dog ୨୧ (by @/inupibaldspot)

୨୧ let's give it one more try ୨୧ you and gojo are getting a divorce .(by @/inupibaldspot)

୨୧ at him, for him ୨୧ normal like no curse and stuff au where gojo is in love with geto’s lover. (by @/inupibaldspot)

୨୧ a family forget in curses ୨୧ you and satoru get called to the office after an incident with megumi at school. fluff, mama bear reader, talks of child neglect ((no one is neglected)), tsumikiii and megumiii best siblings. think i went off too hard with the principal idk why i was pressed. (by @livinghostly)

[ s ] ୨୧ six years ୨୧ six years. He’s loved you for six years. he was too young back then but now he’s not. And he plans on showing you that. (by @fairy-angel222)

[ f ] ୨୧ the babysitters' club ୨୧ in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son! (by @chuluoyi)

[ f ] ୨୧ baby to the rescue ୨୧ in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman. (by @/chuluoyi)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ (by @yuukiiqwq)

[ a ] ୨୧ imgonnagetyouback ୨୧ the one and only son of the gojo clan had fallen quite hard, completely and utterly, to a lowly woman who came from the dirt, and got his heart broken by her. years had passed, he was still as angry since the day you left, but he only wanted you back. (by @satowooo)

୨୧ entitled ୨୧ leaving the busy streets of Sendai city back to its outskirts, the two of you got a bus. there aren’t any seats available, and being pregnant meant being able to sit in the priority seats. looks like they’re taken. (by @kmuradesu)

୨୧ the pick up line ୨୧ (by @yup-thats-me)

[ s ] ୨୧ no title ୨�� clan leader!gojo needs a favor from your clan but as the leader you refuse, so he proposes to give you a child since your husband is unable to. (by @cursingtoji)

[ f ] ୨୧ ring ୨୧ despite wishing he could, gojo isn't always there when you get hit on. which leads to him having to take measures to lay his claim. (by @chocolilies)

[ f ] ୨୧ gojo (name) & gojo satoru take a couple’s quiz ୨୧ (by @slttygeto)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ (by @joemama-2)

[ f ] ୨୧ love entries ୨୧ a series of episodes of your life with the strongest sorcerer throughout the past and present. (by @chuluoyi)

୨୧ back off, kid ୨୧ (Teen)Gojo is jealous over (kid) Fushiguro having a crush on you. (by @/inupibaldspot)

୨୧ after you ୨୧ (by @spacebaby1)

୨୧ i want to kiss you ୨୧ Falling in love despite a language barrier. (by @arminsumi)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ (by @in-class-daydreams)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ gojo satoru being the most annoying out of pocket boyfriend with zero boundaries. (by @aae-tuu)

[ n ] ୨୧ boyfriend gojo x booobs ୨୧ (by @satorusluver)

୨୧ our child is an angel ୨୧ jjk characters when called into teacher's office about their child. (by @wysteria-bloom)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ (by @yuwuta)

୨୧ no title ୨୧ (by @bluelockmaniac)

୨୧ clingy gojo ୨୧ (by @chososrightnipple)

୨୧ husband satoru ୨୧ (by @mogra11)

[ s ] ୨୧ p*rnstar satoru pt2 ୨୧ (by @webism)

[ s ] ୨୧ thinking about... ୨୧ (by @ridingthatd)

[threetone3]

Chapter 1: Adventure Is Out There

Kang Haerin x Male OC

Words: 2.4k

What We Don’t Say: 

Everyone holds their secrets, and everyone has things they don’t share. As friendships form and feelings grow, secrets begin to unravel. And sometimes, the most complicated things aren’t what we say, but what we never do.

“You’re that hagwon girl, right?” In which Kang Haerin starts a new school after everything falls apart—and meets a bubbly Aussie girl who decides she's going to fix it all. Or at least make her watch Up.

Kang Haerin

I was a few months into my third year in high school when my dad lost his job due to taking bribes, and we had to compensate for it by relocating to a completely different district so that he could find new work. I know it sounds harsh, but thanks to him, I had to transfer to a different school in my senior year—something that might ruin my chances of getting into my dream university. But whatever. What’s done is done. 

As the day I’d been dreading approached, I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. The thought of starting at a new school filled me with a mix of anxiety and uncertainty, maybe just a slight twinge of anticipation as well. The conversation I had on the phone last night, with words of confirmation and reassurance from my best friend, came drifting back.

"Don't worry, you'll be completely fine there. You're Kang Haerin—straight-A student, vice president of the student council, and last year you received a record-breaking 87 confession letters on Valentine's Day, yet somehow you managed to reject every single one of them. I think you’re gonna be just fine, girl."

Ban Heesoo. Some would describe her as comic relief; the weird girl with the giggly and loud personality in class, perpetually cracking her jokes and being the only person who would laugh at them with her weird guffaws. But to me, she was my trustworthy partner in crime, the only one who understood me and the only friend I ever made. I couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at her words. It was indescribable; she would say things that always managed to make me feel better about myself, but she never made any requests in return. Our relationship dynamic was almost like she was my therapist, and I was her customer who had no idea what was going on with her. But somehow it worked. 

“Thanks, but I don’t know if I can readjust to a new school and catch up on their syllabus at the same time.” I sighed into the phone, questioning whether this was even a good idea.

Heesoo’s reply came fast. “Dude, you were sick and hospitalised for almost a whole month last year and still ranked first in the finals. I don't think you have anything to worry about when it comes to grades. Romantic relationships, however…”

I rolled my eyes as she laughed mockingly.

“First of all, you know how my mom feels about me getting into relationships now. Secondly, every guy at our school was either a hardcore delinquent who didn’t care about studying or a complete nerd who could barely eke out a sentence in front of a girl. There’s a reason why I got 87 letters and not a single face-to-face confession.”

“Okay, counterpoint: they probably didn’t dare approach you anyway because of your stone-cold demeanour. I mean, you were basically known as the Ice Queen in school, and your stage-four terminal case of RBF might be the worst I’ve ever seen. Also, I don’t think you get to say anything about romantically uninclined nerds.”

Damn. Sometimes, Heesoo really knew how to humble me.

“Okay, fine, you’re right. But don’t expect me to show up after graduation with a boyfriend on my arm,” I grumbled.

“I’m counting on it! No boy’s gonna steal my ice-cold Kang Haerin’s heart anyway!” I could imagine her winking at her phone. 

After we said goodbye, I thought about the prospect of having a boyfriend. It was a thought that had been lingering in the back of my head for the past two or three years. Romantic relationships were a national obsession in Korea, despite the overwhelmingly stressful education system. But it was a trend I never got around to joining—probably because I never felt the need. All I focused on were my grades. Maybe that’s why I only ever made one friend in school.

As I started drifting to sleep, I found myself wishing for a different experience in my new school.

“KANG HAERIN! YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE!”

My eyes shot to the clock again, which read 7:15. Another thing I hated about my dad losing his job: the travel time. Our new house was a 35-minute walk from school with no direct bus—unless I somehow learned to ride a bike in the span of a few weeks.

As I reluctantly got up and started my morning routine, I noticed a weird uneasiness in my stomach. Even my body was physically dreading the thought of meeting new people. Curse this extremist introvert mindset.

🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈

I’d never been late for school before. I’d never missed a day without a valid reason either; it was part and parcel that came with being vice president of the student council with a reputation for keeping a perfect record. So I was already off to a bad start as I trudged toward the front gate, practically dragging myself there after an attempt (albeit a failed one) to run to school, then a Hail Mary sprint once I caught sight of the pearly gates. I glanced at the clock tower: 8:02. There goes my streak. Maybe learning to cycle wasn’t the worst idea after all.

Even just pushing through the rotating door took every last ounce of my strength. As I stepped foot on school grounds and looked around, my eyes met a pair of gorgeous brown ones, flecked with sea-green and a glint in them. 

“Are you the new transfer girl?” Ooh, thick Aussie accent.

“Yeah… Th-That’s me.” I could barely catch my breath. God, running for 30 minutes made saying three words feel like a marathon.

“Ooh, you might wanna take it easy there. You sound kinda out of breath. Don’t worry, it’s your first day, so there’s no punishment this time.”

“Punishment?” I did a double-take. She pointed to a line of about ten students at the side of the gate, where a stern-looking teacher stood holding a clipboard.

“Mr. Choi takes down the names of everyone who’s late. Every time you’re late, you get a demerit point. Ten demerits gets you the grand prize at the gift exchange: ten laps around the track.” The girl explained casually. “There’s also different offences you can get demerits for.” 

I hummed and nodded before noticing a tall student waving at her. Her eyes lit up.

“Third time this week?” she called.

“Nope, fourth. You forgot Monday—I got caught riding Bull to school,” the boy replied sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

I got a good look at him: natural wavy hair, parted in the middle, a bandage on his nose bridge, and what looked like an earring on his left earlobe.

“Are guys allowed to wear earrings here?” I asked.

“Nope. Guess that’s gonna be his fifth strike.” She shrugged. “But honestly, Mr. Choi’s probably given up on him by now. He’s kind of a legend for breaking the record on demerit laps.”

I raised an eyebrow. His vibe definitely fit the high school delinquent stereotype.

“Does he get into trouble often or…?”

My question made her laugh—a bright, open laugh that answered for her.

“His record was 120 laps in one term, I think.”

I would’ve been more shocked at that accomplishment, but her laugh actually took my breath away. It was only our first interaction, and already she felt like the embodiment of a guardian angel, whose mermaid voice could hum a lullaby and put an entire city to sleep.

“Oh, sorry! I completely forgot about your introductory tour. I’m Danielle. I’ll be showing you around today, helping you get settled in. What was your name again?”

“Haerin. Kang Haerin,” I said, finally managing to steady my breath — and my nerves. Spoken interaction had always been something I dreaded, but this girl’s vibrant smile somehow made it manageable. Not that I felt any kind of attraction to her, it was more like watching the sun laugh.

The vibrant smile I received in response to my introduction only further proved my point. “Well, Kang Haerin, let’s get you acquainted with the people here, you’re gonna love them.” A playful frown creased her forehead. “Well, most of them anyway. Follow me—lots of fun stuff awaits. Adventure is out there!” I blinked at her bubbly outburst. Was that a reference I wasn’t getting? 

My expression must’ve given it away, I realised, as she stared at me incredulously. “Are you just shy, or do you really not get the reference?” I didn’t know how to answer her, so I just stared blankly even more. Like I said, spoken interaction queen over here. “Charles Muntz from Up… you know, the saddest movie of all time?” She was practically praying that I would somehow magically understand. I shook my head no, prompting a reaction from Danielle where she all but lost her mind in the kindest way possible, “You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s fine, I’m kidnapping you after school today. We’re gonna do an animated movie marathon and a pop quiz right after. I can’t have you not know movie references, imagine what’s gonna happen if you meet Hanni.” She looked genuinely horrified at the thought of me meeting this Hanni girl without studying movie knowledge, as if drawing a comparison to taking the CSAT on one week's notice. 

I wasn’t used to this type of interaction. Maybe only from Heesoo, but never from someone I just met. I couldn’t even sense any animosity coming from Danielle, just playful banter. She was even suggesting that I go over to her house, and she spoke as if I were already part of her life, and she was already planning to introduce me to her other friends, like this Hanni girl. A warm, fuzzy feeling settled in my stomach, as if my body was saying, “She’s nice to you. Don’t screw this up.”

Danielle, on the other hand, has seemingly already forgotten about the interaction that happened just ten seconds ago, as she now has the warmest smile ever plastered on her face. She gestured forward, leading us across the field.

The school grounds were already buzzing. Students milled about in loose clusters, bags slung lazily over their shoulders, loud laughter mixing with the occasional whistle from the PE teacher across the pitch. I followed her in silence, adjusting the strap on my shoulder, with mild stitches in my stomach as a result of my attempted run, which spoke volumes about my athletic ability or lack of it.

“That building’s the gym. You’ll probably hear Coach Baek yelling even when he’s not,” Danielle said, pointing to a tall, white dome-like structure. “And behind it is the boxing club. That’s where Jay practically lives. You’ll get used to the sound of gloves hitting pads before class ends.”

“Jay’s the one with the earring?” I asked, more to make conversation than anything else.

Danielle nodded. “The one and only. Five-time inter-school demerit champion. Our resident ‘bad boy with a surprisingly soft centre’... probably. Don’t tell him I said that.”

I let out a quiet snort — a sound I didn’t even realise escaped.

She turned toward the main building. “You’ll spend most of your time there. Classrooms, labs, the library… and the music club, if you’re lucky.”

There was a brief pause before she added, “I’m in it, by the way—the music club. We write songs, sing, play a little. Nothing formal. Just vibes, really.”

It sounded so easy the way she said it. Like breathing. Like freedom.

We were halfway up the stairs to the building when she suddenly slowed her pace.

“Wait a sec,” she said, peering at me, eyes narrowing slightly. “What did you say your full name was again?”

I blinked. “Kang Haerin.”

Danielle’s eyes widened, then lit up with something between amusement and disbelief. “Oh my god—you’re that hagwon girl?”

I froze. Here it comes.

“Wait, wait, wait—Kang Haerin from Arae Tuition? Your mom’s that insane Korean language tutor with like three YouTube channels and test prep books in bookstores? You’re that Kang Haerin?”

The question — the way she said it—wasn’t cruel. It was just… shocked. And a little fascinated.

I pressed my lips together and nodded once. “Yeah. That’s me.”

She let out a slow whistle. “Wow. You’re kind of legendary. There was this rumour that you did six practice exams a week and scored full marks on all of them. One of my friends used to cry after watching your mock papers.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to.

Danielle must’ve noticed my silence, because her expression softened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just… didn’t expect you to be you.”

“It’s fine,” I said automatically, even though it wasn’t.

People always had a reaction. The hagwon girl. The daughter of the ‘famous’ tutor. The perfectionist who got hospitalised from overwork and still topped the finals.

They never saw the real part. The part where I couldn’t sleep because I was too scared of letting my mom down. The part where my mom smiled at my report card like it was a business win. The part where I listened to her and my dad fight in whispers past midnight, because yelling might damage the brand. 

They just saw the name—the image. 

“Well,” Danielle said, and her voice was quieter this time, “you don’t seem like a hagwon robot. You seem… kind of cool, actually.” 

I wasn’t sure how to respond. So I didn’t. I just looked at her again, that wide-eyed smile and natural warmth. Something about her felt like a direct contradiction to my life. A breath of air when I’d been underwater too long. 

My phone buzzed in my blazer pocket—a message from Heesoo.

Ban Heesoo

u better not be late on ur first day, loser 🙄

also, pls try not to make everyone fall in love with u again 

or do, up to u

I laughed under my breath. 

Danielle peeked over. “Ooh, who’s that? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” 

“She’s my best friend,” I said. “Ban Heesoo.”

Danielle grinned. “She sounds fun.” 

“She is.” 

The silence that followed was easier, less loaded. Like we’d crossed an invisible line — from polite strangers to maybe, possibly not-strangers. 

“Come on,” Danielle said after a moment, tugging me toward the glass doors. “Let’s go find your homeroom. And don’t worry about the hagwon thing. This place? No one’s perfect. That’s kind of the point.” 

And for the first time that morning, I wasn’t sure if I felt dread or something else entirely. 

Please let me know what you think! I learn pretty quick and I'm open to all sorts of comments, feedback, advice, constructive criticism or compliments 😉

[sramoonlight]

Afternoon life

What if Damian had to change his whole schedule?

Content you’ll see here: Mexican!reader, mentions of politics, friends to lovers, mlm

English it’s not my first language, so please be patient

Damian hates 2 things, well there’s more but he tells he hates just 2 things, they are animal cruelty and stupid teenagers who thinks they are better than him because their mommy said so

So maybe that’s why Bruce wasn’t surprised when the school called him to pick up Damian from school, the reason? He got into a fight with a guy who tried to act “funny” with him, but if you ask Damian he would tell he was ‘a master of petty grievances and performative fragility’ a weird way to call someone a whinny bitch.

Anyways, Bruce was pissed off, like sure he would put his face to every mistake his kid does but this could be avoided if Damian wasn’t so… sensitive? That’s not the word, he won’t bother to find it

Damian could feel it, sitting on the dinner table while Bruce tried to find the words to say this, not too hard but not too soft

— Are you aware of what you’ve done? — there it is, Damian sighed crossing his arms as he tried to look away

— He wouldn’t stop talking, it wasn’t my fault — Wrong choice of words, that only made Bruce groan in annoyance

Damian tried looking at Alfred, he avoided his eyes telling him with no words that he was on his own

— I’m sorry Damian, but I couldn’t protect you there — his full attention was now on his father, if he is talking in that tone..

A week of detention? Well he can take it, that doesn’t end late so he could have enough time to go home, do his homework and get ready for patrol, yeah he can handle that

— You are going on the afternoon session — he tilted his head, fully confused

What was that? That even existed? A school on the noons on Gotham? How does that even work? Oh god, probably that is filled with criminal’s child’s who can’t be on the morning

He never thought he would be making a disgusted expression but this place is going to suck

— You can’t do that, father, what about patrol? — great way to save it, Batman would never let Robin miss patrol.

Bruce would, a Bruce with a face filled with disappointment will do it

— You are lucky they let you go back to the mornings in a year, so we are going to take everything we could —

Crap, he is serious on this one and not hearing Alfred complaining is enough to tell him he’s in big trouble

Well! That can’t be that bad, right? He could sleep more and he’ll find a way to put his life on control again.

The truth is.. he couldn’t

Not when the sun is already itching on his skin, being on the mornings meant he could wear as much clothes as he wanted and he wouldn’t feel like a shrimp on a soup

Not everything is bad, right? He doesn’t feel tired at all, that’s a good start but oh god

This new people around him, they aren’t bad or at least known criminals, but he can see every person he thought they were out of Gotham there

— You look lost — a boy, his uniform looked messy like he just put it on

— I’m not lost — His voice sounds too harsh like he’s trying not to snap and yell at him

Maybe he could, but that’s not the best for his civilian life

— Yeah, everyone says that when they get send him, c’mon I’ll help you find your class — This guy talks like he knows everything

He knows this school, a simple changed of schedule can’t change anything, still he followed him.

3 months later, the semester is almost over and he is still attached to this kid who keeps talking about his life with him

That’s not that bad, when he studied on the mornings he didn’t have any friends and that lead to people talking about him but now everyone just see him as the friend of this guy

Speaking of friends, how can this kid have so many friends? Whenever they are sitting eating lunch a bunch of people come to talk to him and he acts like it’s nothing, is this what having a civilian life meant?

— Hey, Damian, do you have all the stamps? — Damian turned to face this boy, you

His notebook was out, he didn’t even noticed when the teacher asked for everyone’s stamps to put it on the list, what a weird system

— I think so, how many are they? — He started looking through his notebook counting them quickly

— Thirty, well at least that’s what the teacher said, I just wish Clara doesn’t have more than that — And Damian stopped himself

He started counting again, three times, oh holy fuck how could this happen?

— I only have twenty two, how? — He took your notebook checking out to find where he could failed

It turns out you only have eight, the eight ones he needed to have a perfect score, how could this be possible? He never loose any class

— Oh, you didn’t do the homeworks! Does the Damian Wayne forgot to do them? — you giggled not caring about how bad it looked on your side

— At least I’m not the idiot who barely has a quarter part — he groaned, you chuckled even harder at the way he looked pissed off

Of course, Damian can’t stand the chance of not being completely perfect

— Calm down, rich boy, I got all of them — he looked at you like you were talking bullshit, well you are, you don’t even have half of it

You do have the notes, but not the stamps and that isn’t good for you

— Watch and learn — You turned to the other side of the classroom

— Hey Jack! You’ve got the S thing I helped you get? — a guy, Damian knows him from being on the soccer team, a jackass who can’t even count to ten

He looked on his backpack before handing you an item behind the tables, when he finally got to see it he immediately covered it with his hand

A stamp machine, one identical to the teacher’s

— Are you out of you mind? How could you think about falsify something like this? — his voice sounds too harsh, completely offended that you think you could do that

It’s not like he could snitch, but he can’t believe someone close to him thought about cheating

— Calm down, Damian, the teacher never notice and don’t tell me you don’t want a few of these — that was true

He can’t stand the chance of getting a bad score, he will be a disappointment on the Wayne family for not being able to complete a simple task as that

That’s cheating, but he doesn’t have a choice

— You are Wayne and I’m Zamora, we are one of the last on the list, so start copying my homework and I’ll start putting these babies — god how he hates cheating on something this simple

He didn’t say anything else, because this thing was helping him still get the higher score on the class

That’s somehow better than on his morning classes, if he had the same problem he would’ve just resign and try to hide the problem

This friendship, it’s somehow helpful.

When the sun was down and the clock was telling seven pm, Damian was waiting outside of the school for Alfred or someone to pick him up, the usual routine since he got this ridiculous schedule

— Still waiting? — you appeared behind him, your school jacket tied on your waist like you were out of a hot day

— Still here? — He responded the same way you did, his arms crossed above his chest

— It’s disrespectful to use your uniform that way — He pointed it out, your head moved to look at yourself before giggling

A type of giggle Damian was used to hearing from you

— If I wear a fancy uniform this late I’ll get mugged and I can’t change so I just try to hide it — That’s… actually pretty good

Wait, you walk home? This late on Gotham? You’re not even a person with money so that means you live on the normal streets, that means the crime is higher than usual

— I thought your father came to pick you up — he tilted his head, you giggled covering your mouth

He is still so impressed you don’t seem to be afraid

— Mi papá has been busier this month so I just have to walk home by my own, but you señor Wayne — you walked around him, hands on your back like analyzing his posture, he hates when you do that

— You’re late to your fancy gala at the manor — he tilted his head until it clicked

Oh, yeah, his father was hosting a gala explaining why Alfred wasn’t there on time, he could just walk home but that doesn’t seem to be what he should do

— How do you know? — He leaned to look at your face, you covered the cheesy smile with your hand

— I’ve been stalking you — Damian raised an eyebrow and you burst into laughter laud as always

Of course you weren’t, he could notice it in seconds

— Mi pa, is driving his boss to the gala, that’s how I know — he tried to look for an answer, his mind wandering across the profile he has set for you even if it’s on his mind

Yeah, your father works in a company allied to Wayne enterprises, that makes sense, now he has to tell his father to make sure yours get out of work early to pick you up

— Do you mind, coming with me, Wayne? — you offered him your hand

He looked at it not so sure if he had to take it, you are not the type of friends who could have physical contact but the idea of having you out of his grasp this late, hands intertwined means an easy way to drag you if you are in danger

He took your hand, following to where it looked like an abandoned house, he knows this isn’t your house because he has seen it in records

— Where are we going? — He asked, you looked at him over your shoulder with a big smile.

The moonlight made everything look darker but enough to see where you are going, still he can recall how familiar you are with walking around there

— Watch it — you said before walking between a shrub, he was about to comply before he looked up to you

The city could be seen on this floral place, the lights of the suburban life and the beauty of the nature, a good place for you to hang out

This looks like a place you often visit, probably because it’s hidden on the woods and hidden from the crime on Gotham

— One day, this city will be mine — you mumbled turning to see your friend

Damian looked at you, his eyes shining at the image in front of him

Your slightly tanned skin glowing underneath the moonlight, and the way the city’s light get behind your body makes it all perfect

This is… like those manga he reads on his free time.

— Im going to be mayor when I grow up, and then president — your hands moved to be on your back

A big smile on your face keeping Damian dazzled, and even if he was in such state he found himself to keep listening to your words

— Does an immigrant can be president? — he laughed on your face, your mouth changed into a pout

You were not offended, you knew Damian asked it out in pure curiosity

— Of course! Have you read about Hamilton? I’m going to be like him, but without the whole cheating story that made him fall — you walked to him, hands still on your back

He looked at your face, amused by the thought, this little social butterfly wants to be president? You do have the social battery for it but he can’t seem to figure it out how you’ll do it

— If you do, I’ll be giving you all of my money — now it was your turn to laugh at his face

Then, yours hands moved to grab his, he looked down at it before looking up at you

He can see the freckles of your face, disappearing every time you get older but still here for him to notice

— Will you be my Eliza? — and everything exploded around him, but it was just his mind sending an electric shock to his heart

Now he loves this afternoon life.

The whole afternoon system is based on my school because hi! I’m an afternoon student who is begging to be sent to the mornings, I know this will suck to Damian because now he has to wake up early to do his homework, that’s why he isn’t perfect anymore.

Yes, Damian in this au talks Spanish, he doesn’t talk it to you because well, he doesn’t want you to know because he wants to know what you are saying without you noticing.

Please, please love this story, I have so many thoughts about future parts and I HAVE to write it

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[bowxs]

𝒮𝑜 𝐻𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓁

Summary - When Dean Winchester moves to yet another new town and is forced into his third new school of the year, he’s not expecting anything different from his past experiences. Until you.  When you're put under the pressure of being one of the most popular people in school, cheer captain, and honors student, you aren't willing to let anything get in the way of what you have been working so hard to build up. Until Dean. Dean doesn’t know how long he’ll be in this town, but damn if it isn't the first time he wishes he could stay- just to have a bit more time with you.

Warnings/Notes - highschool au, popular girl x newkid!dean, set in senior year, small talk about not having food at home, small mention about dieting/body image, mention of food restriction

Chapter 2

Dean Winchester. The boy who never stayed in one spot for more than two weeks. The boy whose life revolves around taking care of his not so little brother, listening to his dad, and making out with hot girls. The boy who never cared for what people thought of him, because nothing really mattered.

His first day at Jonesville High was a Wednesday. And he didn’t know it yet, but it would be the day his life changed.

“Sammy! Let’s go!” Dean called for his younger brother from the front door, looking around the small, dingy apartment for any sign of Sam nearby. Footsteps came closer, a very reluctant looking Sam came into view. His worn-down backpack was slung over one shoulder, his brown hair brushed messily over his forehead, and a way too sugary breakfast in his hand.

“I can’t believe dad is trusting you to actually get us to school on time” Sam mumbled with his mouth full as he slipped on his shoes, ignoring the way Dean shoved him out the door.

The school bell rang through the space, the sound of students settling into their seats filling the classroom. “Everyone welcome Dean- he will be joining us for the rest of the year” you heard Ms. Klark announce to the class as Dean gave a cocky smile to the first girl he saw- you. “Dean, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?”

“My name’s Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and talking about my feelings.” His voice was sarcastic, that cocky grin never leaving his face. He shot a wink in your direction, like he knew you would like it.

You didn’t. Instead, you watched him almost carefully as he made his way to sit down next to you, because of course it was the only free desk in the whole class.

You tried to carry on with class as normal, but it was so damn hard with Dean leaning back in his chair with his legs spread like he already owned the place. His arm was slung over the back of your chair as you took notes on whatever the teacher was going on about this early in the morning. Physics. You tried hard in school, you had to - maintaining your high average was the only thing ensuring you kept your spot as cheer captain.

“Do you seriously understand this?” Dean leaned over, his voice a low whisper as he looked between your notes and you. “Yeah? What, you didn’t learn at your last school?” you whispered, your voice coming off dismissive. You weren’t willing to get into trouble because some idiot decided to start talking to you.

Dean scoffed at your words, like he was impressed you had any type of attitude. He doesn’t mention the fact he had only spent a week at his last school, or that he didn’t have the money to be paying for textbooks or tutors. He just laughs and shakes his head. “I guess not.”

You went back to taking notes, but most of your energy was spent ignoring the way Dean was staring at you like he was planning his next move. You hated it. Sure, you liked the attention from someone new, but you got enough attention from the whole school already- an extra person, much less a boy, would only get in the way.

“So where's your boyfriend, huh? Is he too dumb for this class or what?”. You scoffed, shaking your head as you highlighted something you thought was important. “No boyfriend.”

Dean gave you a sidelong glance, clearly not believing you, “Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I don’t need-”

“Mister Winchester- do you want to answer this question?” the teacher interrupted you two, giving Dean a warning look.

“I, uh-” he stuttered, clearly caught off guard by the teacher calling him out. You watched him hesitate, the cockiness temporarily leaving him. The notes on your desk caught your eye- they were the answers for the question the teacher just asked Dean. You sighed, gently nudging the notes in Dean’s direction. Curse you for being a nice person. He noticed, thankfully, and glanced quickly at them before finally answering.

“The answer is increasing. If you were to increase the mass of an object in motion, the net force required to keep it moving at the same rate of acceleration would increase.” Ms. Klark barely hid her surprise. She was quick to nod and turn back to the board, and you wished she would have kept going a little longer, just to stall having Dean talk to you again.

“Thanks for the help sweetheart, but I didn’t need it.” Dean was careful to keep his voice down, not wanting to aggravate the teacher again, but that cocky smirk was back on his face as you focused back on your notes.

“Uh huh. Just shut up, will you? Some people actually care about this stuff.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You wanted to correct him- tell him that wasn't even close to your name and you definitely weren’t on a nickname basis- but the argument dies in your throat as the bell rings, signaling the first period is over. Finally. You couldn’t get out of there fast enough, your hands already moving to shove your notebooks into your backpack.

“What class is next?” Dean asked, not bothering with the rush of leaving class- he didn’t take anything out of his backpack anyways. “I have chemistry” your voice was a twinge annoyed, he did nothing but distract you and you couldn’t wait to get away.

“You mean we have chemistry.” that smirk was back on his face as he tried to correct you. “No, I mean I have chemistry class next period, not chemistry with you.”

“I know, sweetheart, I have chemistry next period too.”

Oh. That’s what he meant. You looked down, pretending to focus on packing your bag to hide the tint of embarrassment dusted on your cheeks.

“Looks like you're showing me around school today.” Dean commented, and you could hear his cockyness. He knew you were embarrassed about the misunderstanding. “Then you gotta keep up with me.”

Dean followed you through the halls, almost like a lost puppy. Almost- if it weren’t for him winking and smiling at any girl he made eye contact with. You thought he was too cocky for someone who just moved into the school, but god with a face like that he just barely got away with it.

You didn’t bother with the small talk or introducing him to the school, focused solely on making it to class without snapping at him for distracting you and almost getting you in trouble.

“You really don’t talk a lot, sweetheart.” He commented, watching you as you confidently walked through the hallways. “Not my name, Winchester.” you shot back.

“Not my point. Are you this quiet with everyone? You don’t seem like the type” he kept talking as he watched you wave to a couple people in the hallway. You definitely weren’t the quiet type. You were the epitome of popularity- you knew practically everyone in school, all the teachers loved to have you in their class, and the cheer captain pushed the stereotype even further.

“Maybe I just don’t like you.”

“Nobody dislikes me, sweetheart.”

“I dislike you” Dean scoffs like you just told him the worst lie ever, and shakes his head as you shoot him a pointed look over your shoulder.

“You can’t dislike me, you barely even know me” he tries to reason, a hint of humor in his voice as you guys enter the chemistry classroom. “C’mon, give a guy a chance, huh?” He keeps going, even as you find your way to your seat, watching him sit down next to you.

"I don't think 'this guy' needs a chance" you rolled your eyes at his remark, already moving to take your textbook out of your bag. "I think 'this guy' needs to find somewhere else to sit."

Being well known throughout school, maintaining your honours average, your spot as cheer captain, and the need for your parents approval- it never bothered you. It was just normal. You didn’t date because you had to focus. “future is more important than present, choose your priorities” is what your dad said, and you believed him.

Dean watched you as you got ready for the class, clearly not taking your words seriously. You didn't even know if you were taking your own words seriously. You wanted to- wanted to tell him to find a seat on the other side of class so you could focus and do what you would normally do- but something inside you stopped you from doing it.

"I don't really think you want me to move, swetheart." his voice was playful and cocky at the same time, and he was looking at you with a lopsided smirk.

"No, I'm just too nice to actually ask you to leave." you sighed, already trying to focus on the board, which was getting increasingly difficult with Dean staring at the side of your face. Damn him. "Whatever, just stay quiet this class, okay? I don't need you being the reason I fail."

Dean doesn't comment on the way you seem way to smart to fail anything, even with him talking. He doesn't comment on anything during the whole class, instead keeping himself busy with his own thoughts.

My name’s Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and talking about my feelings to this girl.

"Sammy- I swear this chick is totally into me!" Dean beamed as his hands drummed a familiar rhythm on the wheel of the impala. The day had gone amazing in his eyes- he got a few girls numbers, kissed one or two of them, and met you. You were the most important part of his day.

"Uh-huh, I'm sure she is" Sam's voice was tired, clearly not having as good of a day as Dean. "Do we have dinner at home? I'm starving."

Dean ignored the way his stomach grumbled at the thought of food, focusing on Sam instead. "Nah, but I'll stop by the gas station for you, alright? Can't have you staying this short forever."

"How was your day, honey?" your mother asked from across the table, the sound of utensils on plates finally being interrupted- even if it was with awkward small talk. Dinners weren't often filled with conversation, unless it was about your grades or upcoming cheer competitions you would need to attend. You just weren't a close family, and that was okay.

"It was alright," you dismissed, playing around a bit with the food on your plate. "there's a new kid that just moved here." you mumbled before taking a bite of your food, trying to ignore the way your mom watched you lift the fork to your mouth.

"A new kid? This late into the school year? How odd." Your mom commented, still watching you eat with her brows furrowed a bit. She cleared her throat before she spoke up again, not bothering to look at you this time. "Remember that diet coach said you should stick to, honey. Don't need him to up your training again"

"Yeah, mom. Can't forget."

The next few days were like a broken record. Everyday, Physics, Chemistry, English, then History. And everyday, it was the same “Hey sweetheart.” over and over. You got used to it eventually- it was like a new, slightly annoying routine that you found yourself growing fond of every time he said it.

The day you first met Dean Winchester was on a Wednesday, and you didn’t know it yet, but he would change your life.

a/n- im soso nervous to post this but gosh, this idea has been brewing for everr and i just had to get it out, especially after a few anon reqs to have this be made!! im hoping to have multiple parts to this fic, and i can't wait to see where this takes me <33

i dont know if anyone will want this, BUT if you want to be tagged for the next chapter, comment and say you want to!

[kittydruthers]

College au Melangdon

Mel comes into the ER injured and the team (besides who Frank has told) doesn’t realise that Mel is Frank’s wife and it’s a whole thing when it comes out (not in a bad way in the end)

Can for sure see this happening while Mel is in med school.

She’s used to a bit more of a temperate climate, and certainly not walking around a city when it’s so icy. She ends up taking a nasty fall, landing on her right side and she thinks she might have possibly broken something. She takes herself to PTMC because Frank insisted she always go there if she ever got hurt because he trusts his people and he only wants the best for her. She ends up sitting in the waiting room for a bit but the Langdon at the end of her name surely speeds up her first vitals check.

Her nurse’s name is Perlah, she’s efficient and kind, and Mel notices the double take at her name before she inevitably asks if Mel knows Dr. Langdon. It’s reflexive to answer because yes she does know Dr. Langdon, he’s her husband actually. Perlah’s eyes go wide as she glances back out towards the floor to who, Mel doesn’t know. But Perlah stays where she is, does her initial assessment and notes, asking what happened before she disappears with, I’ll let him know you’re here.

Except Frank isn’t the next person she sees. A number of people seem to be walking by her bed trying not to obviously look at her but clearly wanting to catch a glimpse to the point that she ends up getting up to shut the curtain for some privacy. She doesn’t like feeling like a sideshow attraction.

The first person to shove the curtain aside, thankfully, is Frank. He looks fresh off some big case but his focus is all on her now. Demanding to know what happened, sweetheart?

She goes through the story replayed plenty already, she was headed back from class when she slipped in a patch of ice and went down like a load of bricks landing particularly hard on her shoulder. He gently checks her over, notes the scrapes on her leg and promises to order scans to see if anything is broken. Then he realizes, how in the world did she get here? And she has to admit she almost drove herself, sees his jaw tense, before she tells him she called in Uber and he relaxes. He tells her next time, if she has to come in, the second she gets to the desk she better flash her ring and say she’s Dr. Langdon’s wife because she shouldn’t have to wait. Mel disagrees but doesn’t argue now. She sees feet stopping outside the room but ignores it with Frank here.

Technically, he’s not allowed to be doing this but Mel has a feeling he insisted. At one point she hears a stern voice tell the onlookers, will you leave the kids alone?

Then Dana pops her head in to check on them. They’ve only met a handful of time, but Mel likes Dana a lot. She’s glad there’s someone keeping Frank’s chaos contained at work.

Langdon’s wife is hot news around the floor especially with the nurses and it even reaches Yolanda who starts poking fun at ER Ken for marrying a Barbie doll, speaking of Barbie’s did his wife still play with them? She’s thinking the latest dream house would be a perfect wedding gift. Mel actually watches him flip her off before taking her home, rest of his shift be damed, despite her protests. She only has a sprained shoulder, sling already carefully placed on by her very attentive doctor. He insists he needs to be the one to ice it for her.

There’s plenty of stares as they walk out of the ER holding hands but Mel doesn’t mind so much. It’s nice for people to know he’s hers and he’s wrapped around her finger.

[rosiesweets]

my reflection tells me i wasn't made in god's image, but yours. - prologue

synopsis: just because the government says azzi and paige are soulmates doesn't mean it's true, azzi lies to herself.

a/n: ok soulmates au because my brain cannot let me work on one thing at a time. also this is not fantasy/sci fi or anything in that realm. people who can world build and write those genres are genuinely so talented and i am not one of them. this is literally so unserious so please do not flood my inbox with questions about how soulmates work in this. i'm estimating a ten chapter run but please don't hold me to it. ok i've yapped for long enough, let me know your thoughts as usual. all my love, chiara.

prologue

paigey <3 girl where tf r u az wow, good morning to u too sunshine paigey <3 well some of us have been up six am lifting weights getting swole big n strong or wtv anyway back to my original q where tf r u theyre going to run out of pancakes at the dining hall and then ur gonna be all grumpy and annoying im not saving u any tick tock missy az literally let me brush my teeth ffs big n strong … tell that to ur twig arms first, i’m never grumpy or annoying also ur def saving me some paigey <3 twig ??? arms ??? eat shit fudd i’m giving the last pancakes away why are we lying so early in the morn have some decorum n wait till after noon az ok fail bio then ☺️ paigey <3 [picture of pancakes stacked on a plate] waiting for u princess 💖 az that’s what i fckn thought be there soon p ❤️

azzi laughs to herself as she tucks her phone in her back pocket. she checks her backpack for the day’s essentials: laptop, textbooks, lab report, lipgloss, and her pink pencil case. she reminds herself to steal an orange from the dining hall for later as she slips on her sneakers and walks into blessedly still warm september air of storrs. thankfully her dorm is only ten minutes from the dining hall before paige gets even more annoying that she isn’t there yet.

she can’t help but smile at the thought of her best friend. yeah paige is irritating and doesn’t ever shut up, but azzi doesn’t ever really want her to. being around paige makes azzi feel lighter. and honestly, with how azzi envisions her junior year going, she really needs it. the mcat is this year, and if azzi is going to make a tier one med school she’s going to need to study every hour she isn’t in class, working, or sleeping. paige tells her she could ace the exam in her sleep, but paige also doesn’t know what the krebs cycle is, so.

as she opens the door to the dining hall she notes that it’s fuller than she expected for eight am. she beelines for their usual booth on the top floor in the back. she can spot paige’s blonde hair looking down at her phone as she scrolls.

“what happened to ‘i’m deleting socials to lock in for the season. natty run loading’ bueckers?” azzi chides as she slides into the booth opposite paige. paige scoffs and pushes a plate of three stacked pancakes and two strips of bacon toward her. “it’s barely even pre season. i’m gonna lock in, trust. kk said i wouldn’t be able to do this tik tok dance at practice later, i gotta study it” azzi rips open a packet of syrup as she answers paige “oh so you can study tik tok but not chapter three of your textbook for your bio quiz on thursday?” paige groans and puts her phone down in lieu of shoveling eggs covered far too much ketchup in her mouth. as she swallows she goes “it’s too early for you to be tutor azzi, need you to be best friend azzi right now.” azzi shakes her head and deadpans “those are not two different people paige.”

azzi knows paige firmly does not agree. tutor azzi is the girl paige met freshman year in conference room in werth. the school provided all the sports teams with tutors, smart college kids in need of extra cash, to help players manage their classes and work load with the schedule of a division one athlete. azzi was one of those students. she was at uconn on a full academic ride, something that always made her feel a little shy when she admitted it. but med school debt in america averaged in the hundreds of thousands. she knew any attempt at making that number smaller, she needed to do. her bio professor freshman year told her about the gig after she aced her first exam and before she knew it, she went from stem subjects tutor for the uconn basketball teams to paige buecker’s best friend.

best friend azzi is girl who lays in paige’s purple bed with her doomscrolling in silence. girl who reads while paige plays fortnight too loudly next to her. girl who forces paige to sweet treats twice a week. girl who listens closely and without judgement as paige admits it gets too much sometimes, the pressure to be great. the want to be the best.

best friend azzi does not berate paige about quizzes she hasn’t studied for. who even cares about animal behavior? paige does not need to know this information literally ever she tells azzi. azzi ignores her, “we’re doing flashcards this afternoon or i’m not hanging out with you after your practice.” paige folds her arms on the table before she dramatically drops her head into them, “bro why do you literally hate me.”

azzi does not dignify this with a response. she and paige know azzi could not hate paige even if she tried, and initially she tried. (story for another time.) instead azzi looks at her phone and realizes she’s running late. “i gotta go p, i need to get to mail room before it gets packed and pick up a care package my mom sent me and then i gotta run to calc.” paige nods and tells her to leave her dishes, she’ll clean them up for her. before azzi can zip of her bag to put her water bottle away she realizes paige is holding something out to her, an orange. azzi smiles, grateful and comforted in the knowledge that paige will always be there to take care of her. she takes it from paige as she slides out of the booth and shouts a “see you later p! remember flash cards!” over her shoulder.

—

as she pushes the door open to the mailroom azzi internally cheers, realizing she’s second in line. what luck, today is going to be great she tells herself. pancakes this morning, orange waiting in her bag for her three pm slump, and ice said she would save her a cookie from their crumbl run tonight. literally azzi could not be more up. she gets to the counter and hands her student id over, wondering to herself if her mom sent her more of her favorite candy and also hopefully more socks. she’s surprised when she’s handed a letter in addition to the package but decides she’ll wait to open it when she gets back to her dorm in a second to drop the box off.

—

remember when she said she was happy the weather in storrs was warm? well now she’s sweating as she keys herself into her room to put her bag down. damn, she really wishes her dorm had ac. she’s goes to change her tee shirt quick before her first lecture and as she’s about to walk out the door she remembers the surprise letter. she goes over to her (slightly, ok, actually pretty messy) desk and opens the letter haphazardly with the tip of a pen. she gasps as she reads the first line.

Dear Azzi Jazlyn Fudd, The Federal Bureau of Soulmate Matching is overjoyed to notify you we have found your soulmate! You have one year (until September 15, 2024) to accept your match. Please find contact information for her below: Paige Madison Bueckers

she blacks out before she can read the rest.

[kisses-from-lady]

Avian hybrid!141 x autistic!reader,

Chirping, clicking, and basically sounds like a bird when vocal stimming (totally not very self inserty).

At first 141 thinks they’re copying them especially when they see what (looks to them) they would describe as a nest (some autistic people make “nests” in a sense, for me that’s a lot of blankets and pillows and plushies in my bed).

So they confront reader, annnndd… wherever your creative juices go from the🍄

Notes: Took me a hot minute because guess who was doing Autism research because I love my requesters (and I don't wanna get anything wrong, I will definitely take constructive criticism over how this is written thank you!) long note but I tend to repeat phrases and sounds continuously so I think I got that part down lol

You were a decently new addition, it was fun, having a sweet little full human hang around, all the 141 members were avian hybrids, you knew that when you signed up, and you didn't mind at all, that was part of the condition

The first strange thing they noticed was you chirping to yourself similar to the chirp of a hybrid, typically after you heard one of them make a noise or a coo, really, any noises related to birds and avians

It made Ghost raise an eyebrow, were you mocking them? Soap would always grin at it, he found it weirdly endearing, he took it as you trying to communicate in your own way back, Gaz didn't mind it, Price had a similar thought about it all with Ghost

The second 'strange' thing they found was your own little nest, Soap had asked you for something, you waved him off and said it was in your room on base, he entered to find a pretty good setup, hell he'd nest there

(this is a set up I've done a few times, it's great) You had your duvet set down, the sides rolled to make it like a little pizza, the rolled sides being your crusts, a blanket over that and assorted pillows and plushes inside you very own little bubble in the middle of your bed where he assumed you curled up

He knew it was probably not going to make you jump for joy when you heard but he silently ushered the others to your room saying "Ye think they're copying the hybrid shite? Ye ken, I don't blame 'em, it's nice"

"That's kind of odd, I don't think this is copying us" Price shakes his head and Ghost says "Alright? And?" and Gaz shrugs and says "I think it's sweet, they've got a good set up going on too

"Then why don' we jus' ask them" Soap said with a shrug and you poked your head in "ask me what?" that made them all jump, Gaz shakes his head, slightly amused

"Well what's with.. this? The set up, the fact you copy us" Price gestures to your bed, even if he did say you weren't copying them, merely a second ago, he wanted to see too

"I'm Autistic" You state bluntly, and Gaz cocks his head to the side before saying "Well what's that got to do with it?"

You explain the way your brain works, getting a few 'oohhh's like you're teaching them some class in school, before Soap shakes his head and says "I'd rather go wit' tae idea ye made this nesting situation to get us cuddlin' up to ye" gesturing to your bed once again

You shrugged a little and nodded to the little situation, gesturing for the boys to hop in if they wanted- you wouldn't typically offer this, you didn't particularly like people in your personal area but you also did appreciate the feeling of weight on your body

That's how you ended up cuddled into four massive men, wings wrapped around you and all, they definitely understood you weren't mocking or copying now, but hell, they were glad they had assumed, otherwise this wouldn't have happened in the first place

Notes: Praying I wrote this alright, I just kinda wrote the two specific parts of the request (hope you enjoy!)

[meghiee]

viltrumite!invincible x reader

warnings: death mention, angsty(?) i think. this is my first fic i've written in like 5 years so if it's bleh i apologize. :') essentially viltrum mark is having an identity crisis

-

He truthfully hadn't meant for Earth to fall the way it had.

But... orders were orders. So, Mark Grayson, a hesitant and unsure teenager; always slouched over as if he was trying to crawl into his imaginary shell to hide his statue-like height (thanks Viltrumite DNA...) It made him feel more invisible. He liked it that way, with his wide eyes and shaky hands that made him curse under his breath whenever he tried to get his nerves to settle. But now he was a full-blooded soldier of the Viltrumite Empire.

The moment he turned on humanity, resistance crumbled fast. Even faster when he stopped holding back. Back onto his humanity. His human side was no more. He could still remember the last thing he ever felt, though. A loud, aching heartbeat just before everything inside him halted and went cold.

The moment he died was the moment he saw your house; a pile of smoldering ash, shattered brick, and dirt everywhere. It lay nested in the middle of a crater from a battle he didn't even remember starting. The sky was red. Not from the sun setting into the night, but from blood. It burned into the clouds, coating the air with the thick scent of copper. Mark hadn't meant to look. He was too far gone for caring, for sympathy. He was lost in a haze of rage and obedience. He tried to remind himself as he felt his body gravitate toward the wreck that Mark Grayson was gone. He was Viltrumite now. He was Invincible. A soldier. A conqueror of cities. A killer.

He only looked down by accident (or atleast that's what he told himself) He swore he saw motion in the wreckage below him, and it just simply caught his eye. Yeah... right. The area felt familiar...

Oh. That's right, this was your home.

Mark froze in midair, hovering high above the crater his fist had helped carve. His eyes scanned the destruction. The walls were leveled, and the porch he often saw you sitting on as he passed while walking home from work was now just a pile of broken concrete. He felt the wind blow through his Viltrum suit as it howled in his ears. He could hear the soooosh of greenery around him. Trees, bushes, and oh... your mother's flowers. Peonies and azaleas. Perfectly untouched despite the rubble. They were your mother’s… right?

The realization made his vision tunnel as his breath caught in the back of his throat. He didn't hear the cries anymore. He didn't see the survivors fleeing down the block. The smoke and dust danced around him and swam higher into the skyline. All he saw now was a shell of a home and a ghost of a life he no longer allowed himself to think about anymore.

You'd gone to school together. You weren't close by any means; Mark wasn't brave enough for that. He knew you from afar. He would watch you during class. He'd listen to your conversations with friends and memorized the way you'd laugh as you told a joke. He would walk behind you sometimes in the hall as you made your way to class just so he could be near you. He could recall the day you spilled your water bottle on your notes and how, despite you being upset, you just smiled it off and shrugged. "No use crying over wet paper!" You said, your voice chippering at the end of the word 'paper'. He liked that.

He hovered above for what felt like hours. Just staring... unmovable. His eyes were dead, like he had no concept of emotion any longer. His fists were caked with someone's blood. It had formed a tiny puddle on the remaining pavement below him hours ago. But now it had dried, crusting away as he clenched his fists hard. The skin began to crack and callous. You didn't deserve that. You weren't anything like the others, nowhere even near being a threat. You hadn't even been part of the fight. Just collateral. Just... gone. You were so human. You were always so much more alive and bright than everyone else.

But now you were... No- he didn't bring himself to confirm it. He couldn't. He didn't want to know for sure. So, he turned away. His heart, whatever was left of it, shriveled into his core and tore itself apart. His eyes hardened as he sucked the emotion rising to his face back down into his pit of anger.

He never asked about you. He didn't want confirmation. It was easier to assume you were dead, anyways, and file it away in that new compartment in his mind. It lay right beside his mercy, guilt, and humanity. And from that day forward, Mark had become unstoppable. For the next year, he became the model Viltrumite. He was efficient, merciless, and unshakable. The Viltrumites were pleased. He stopped hesitating. He stopped flinching at screams. The part of him that once cried during the ending of Seance Dog was far gone. It lay buried beneath the rubble of what was once your home. Maybe it kept your ghost company?

Cities fell, leaders bowed, and he avoided that one neighborhood like it was littered with radiation. He couldn't even bring himself to even fly over it. You were buried there, and as far as he was concerned, he couldn't even let himself grieve. That was weakness. Weakness was punished.

Mark told himself that he simply imagined it. That you were just a distant memory. A soft voice with a bright smile that was drowned out by his duty. Maybe he even just imagined you...

And that worked!

For a while.

A year passed. Earth bent it's knee. The remaining resistance fought from shadows, broken and aimless. It was a dry summer day when everything had cracked open again. Mark was flying low; not out of sentiment, but because a rebel pack had been reported in the city. No biggie, just do a routine check. The streets were quiet aside from the gentle chirps of the nearby birds. Sunlight stretched itself over cracked sidewalks and boarded windows. It was hot out today. Summer had returned like it didn’t have a clue what the world had become. Civilians still lived here, though barely. Not many dared to go outside in broad daylight anymore.

Then he saw you.

At first, it didn't register. Just someone walking down the street.

No... It couldn't be.

But yet, there you were.

You were alive, and walking.

The street was falling away as time broke. The world went silent. Your house was gone. Vaporized. He'd seen it himself. You had to of been in it!

But yet, here you were. The sun was on your skin. Your lips were curved in a ghost of a smile, as if Earth hadn't burned. Like he hadn't helped burn it. Your hair was tied up haphazardly as if maybe you'd been in a rush today. The sun blinded itself onto your face as you attempted to shield it from your view, soon giving up and just squinting as you walked along. Your bookbag was slung over one shoulder like it was just any other day in a peaceful world... Where were you going?

Just as Mark planned to escape from this scene; his cold, human heart was growing too heavy in his chest. He didn't like that. You looked up at him. His stomach was doing somersaults. Something inside him had cracked, and then shattered into millions of pieces. Grief. Relief. Horror. Hope. It all slammed into him at once like a meteor to the gut. He wanted to fly to you.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to tell you everything. Every last thought he had. Like how he thought he had killed you. That you were the only thing left from his past that he missed. That even when he tried to forget your name, your face, god- that smile. He still remembered the day you once smiled at him over a shared worksheet like he was just another human being. It all still haunted him in his dreams that he tried to deny himself from having.

Your eyes locked with his. There was no recognition in yours. Just vague apprehension like you knew who he was now, but not what he used to be. Not what he used to feel for you.

Didn't you remember him from high school? The quiet kid always scribbling in notebooks. The one who stared a second too long when you passed in the hallway. Did you recognize him now? The bloodstained symbol on his chest, his hardened jaw, or maybe his darkened eyes?

Did you remember him at all?

You turned away, rounding the next corner and picking up pace, wary of who he was. What he could do. But still, he didn't move. He couldn't. It was as if he forgotten how to move at all. Everything was flooding back in a rush. It was overwhelming.

You were alive. And he... He had become something else just to survive losing you. He'd buried the best parts of himself, thinking they died with you. His humanity. And now? He didn't know if he could go back to who he was. But, he wanted to. God, he wanted to...

He tried so hard not to care. To forget. To become what they wanted him to be.

But now?

Now he couldn't stop remembering.

[glissadia]

Introductory Lessons

The end of the semester is celebrated, and Selin gets some answers to her questions. 6.7k words. (This is a continuation of Upon Further Examination, which you should read before this!)

Carlton Abernanth is a man of middling stature, skillful oration, and absolutely horrendous taste in furniture, but since he is Penrose Academy’s current headmaster and therefore my direct superior, I am required to regularly subject myself to what may very well be the most garishly upholstered sitting room in the entire continent. Dandelion-yellow leather is a crime to both the eyes and whatever poor creature it came from, and there have been many times over the seven years he’s held this position that I have come within a hair’s breadth of bringing one of my own chairs to these meetings, decorum be damned. It’s almost enough to override the respect I have for the man and his runework, built up during the time that he was a fellow professor and now being the only thing saving six armchairs and two sofas from a sustained bout of concentrated dragonflame.

Goddess above. Yellow leather.

"So!" he says brightly, pouring and offering me a cup of tea from the ornate tea set that seems to live on the table here. "I take it you had an interesting round of final examinations?"

I take a sip, not bothering to test the temperature first. It’s one of the blends that Ember enjoys serving me, not prepared up to her standard but still leagues better than the stuff he used to stock. I’m sure the fact that he switched over shortly after I offhandedly complained about it to Ember is purely a coincidence. I’ve never asked her, and she would never say anything unless I did.

"'Interesting' hardly seems like the right term," I respond. "Some imaginative work, of course, like we get every semester, but the median grade was only in the low nineties. Inscription precision was the most common deduction, so I’ll look to adjusting the curriculum to spend more time on it in the future."

"It’s still nothing to scoff at," Carlton replies, and I almost want to scoff at that. "Neither is the fact that students are coming out of your class better-prepared than any other secondary program on the continent. Do you know how many attempts to poach you I’ve had to fend off?"

"Dozens of letters a day, I’m sure," I wave him off. "And you know it’s not a competition to me. I don’t care about the other schools; I care that I’m bringing my students to their fullest potential. Something that reflects poorly on me if they don’t reach that point."

"Fair enough," he concedes, before burning his tongue on his own tea and playing it off in hopes I won’t notice. "Clearly you had at least one student who did, though."

I hide a soft smile with a sigh. A full week has passed since Selin’s demonstration, and thinking about it still fills me with a swirl of varied emotions. Of course, I’m not at all surprised that he’d bring it up.

"Selin Lettea’s ritual work was the best I’ve seen in two decades of teaching, and that includes the other faculty as well as almost all of my own work," I state, without exaggeration. "Not only that, but she demonstrated levels of professionalism, tenacity, and adaptation I’ve been forced to learn are too much to ask from seasoned court magicians, let alone students. I fully believe the grade is justified."

"And I’m not saying I don’t believe you!" he reassures me. "But a full twenty percent on top of a perfect score, for an end-of-semester project? I think I can count on two hands the number of perfect evaluations I’ve seen you give out, let alone greater than perfect. I know better than to suggest it’s solely because she’s one of your mentees, but please, I’d love to be enlightened."

I slump in that horrendous yellow chair, just barely, but I’m sure Carlton picks up on it.

"There were… extenuating circumstances at play."

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t speak. I sigh again, genuinely this time.

"In my eyes, Selin earned perfect marks from the very beginning, flawlessly executing her ritual as designed and correcting the induced errors almost as soon as I made them. I wouldn’t call the ritual itself groundbreaking by any means, but it shows a comprehensive understanding of the principles I taught as well as a knack for efficient and reproducible design, even without taking into account the constraints of the situation."

"Constraints?"

"Apparently," I start, then pause to take another sip of tea, "she has mana instability as well."

The second eyebrow joins the first, turning from questioning encouragement to surprise. As was the case with his predecessor, I’ve had to paint a slightly different picture of my identity with Headmaster Abernanth than I do with the rest of the faculty. Nothing explicit, of course, but over the centuries you pick up a thing or two about misdirection. In this case, the occasional offhand comment or reaction that implies I had a much more direct involvement with the Abrestan-Junal War some two decades ago now than the average noblewoman would have at the time. Pair that with the fact that Leora of Afton, frontline combatant for Abresta and one of the most notorious sorceresses in the continent, disappeared close to the end of the conflict after very publicly taking a curse to the chest, and you have a simple little deception that makes people think they’re so clever for figuring me out and neatly cuts off any further curiosity right there.

The fact that Leora was really just a way for me to express my criticisms of the Junal ruling class in a somewhat constructive manner makes the whole thing a bit easier to sell.

"And no, I don’t know the cause, though I sincerely doubt it’s the same reason as mine," I lie, preempting the natural follow-up question. "It could be entirely natural for her, for all I know. But because I didn’t know about it, I failed to account for it, and due to no fault of her own, the ritual failed. She remade it perfectly, then tried again. And again. It was only on the twenty-third attempt that I identified what was happening and fixed the issue. In my eyes, the level of dedication and perseverance she expressed in spite of what was happening is nothing short of astounding. If that grade isn’t deserved, then clearly I should be failing all my other students for their relative performance."

"No, no, I’m not pushing back," Carlton assures me, then drinks, finally satisfied with the temperature. "Based on what you’ve told me, she sounds like one of the most promising students of the year. Do you know if she’s planning to specialize? Those results would certainly suggest a promising future in ritual work."

"Not yet, but…" I hesitate. I know this is the right call, but that still doesn’t prevent voicing it from making me feel oddly… vulnerable, in a way? "I was thinking of offering her an actual apprenticeship. Holistic."

"Really?" he asks, sounding genuinely surprised. Which I can’t blame him for; I haven’t ever shown an inclination to take someone on in that capacity. "Full-time?"

"Goddess no. At least, not during the school year. If she didn’t keep her studies well-rounded I’d fail her myself. But I see potential in her, and I plan on making sure it becomes fully actualized."

I’m almost mildly surprised to realize I’m telling the truth. Maybe not the whole truth, but even discounting Selin’s nature, there’s a chance I might have decided to make this offer anyway. Isn’t that a thought.

The conversation winds down with a much briefer discussion of the results some of my other students managed to achieve, and finally I am freed from that awful room with its awful furniture. With classes over and final examinations winding down, the academy halls carry a much more relaxed atmosphere than the weeks prior. Students making preparations to head home, celebrating (or lamenting) grades, and generally enjoying the figurative weight off their shoulders. My own schedule for the immediate future is much more self-directed, but it's not yet time for me to fully relax. I’ve got centuries to do that, and a hatchling to teach right now.

Selin is, as requested, waiting for me when I get back to my rooms. I haven’t actually seen the girl since her final project a week ago, distance I imposed myself in an attempt to at least try to get her to focus on the rest of her finals rather than the newfound revelations of that day. A somewhat futile attempt, of course, even with threatening to wipe her memories of the entire examination if she were to not perform up to the standards I know she’s capable of. Still, from what I’ve heard from the rest of the staff, she’s performed admirably. All for the best, I suppose, since my experience in mental magic is barely more than theoretical and I would never actually think to take this away from her, no matter what her results were.

"I hope you two are ready to get out of here, because I am in desperate need of fresh air," I declare as soon as I walk in, breaking Selin and Ember from their conversation. "Ember, is everything packed?"

"Yes, my lady!" she chirps, holding up a picnic basket.

"Okay, that answers one question," Selin comments, "but also hi, hello, I’m still not entirely sure what it is we’re doing today?"

"Picnic lunch," I say. "To celebrate the end of a very eventful semester, or, well, the very eventful end of a semester. Because I think we all need some time to unwind, and I’d rather have the discussions we’re going to have away from others."

The promise of a discussion seems to placate her for now, her eyes sparkling like they did a week ago when I gave her that massive gemstone from my hoard. The felt bag that went with it now rests on her hip, tied to her belt, bulging with the rough-cut corundum inside. It’s probably a bit awkward to carry around like that, but I could never fault her for doing so. I have a feeling it’s going to be a while before she’s fully comfortable with letting her small hoard out of her sight. I know it took me a good amount of time, at least.

"Right, then," I continue. "Did you have breakfast?"

"Um, a bit, yeah?"

"Clear your lungs, take a deep breath, and hold it," I instruct, striding forward to place a hand on Ember’s shoulder and Selin’s sternum. "Ready? Three, two, one."

Despite her visible confusion, Selin does as I ask and inhales, just in time for me to pulse a bit of magic through her torso, paralyzing her diaphragm, intestinal, and abdominal muscles. Her eyes barely have time to widen before I force us all through space, bringing them both with me through a teleport not quite so long-distance as the trip to my cave. It’s over in an instant, and I move both my hands to catch Selin under the arms, taking the weight off her buckling legs while her body tries to process what the hell just happened. She entirely fails to vomit, because I know what I’m doing, thank you very much, and I restore control to her after only a few seconds. She immediately exhales and takes a big, shuddering gulp of air, then another, while I wait patiently for her to recover.

"W-what the hell?" she finally manages to say.

"Teleportation," I state. "We’re about two days’ trek east. I like to get out of the city for an afternoon sometimes, and this is a rather good spot to do it."

"Is it always this bad?" Selin asks, to which I shake my head.

"First time’s the worst," I tell her. "It only gets better from here, once your body gets more familiar with the sensation. It’ll also be vastly smoother when you’re the one doing it yourself. Are you alright?"

"I will be," she says, taking deliberate, measured breaths. "Maybe a little warning next time, please?"

"Once you’ve learned not to tense up."

Selin recovers remarkably quickly and I let go of her once she seems to be able to balance. Ember, having been fine after only a couple of seconds, gives her a once-over and a flask of water, which she downs rather quickly. Only then does Selin actually take a look around at our surroundings.

"Woah. You… were not kidding."

The meadow the three of us are standing in is rather idyllic, in my opinion. It’s absolutely blanketed in wildflowers, which gives the incredibly fresh air a pleasant floral note. The temperature is perfect too, helped by the fact that we’re far into the middle of a mountain range here and the early spring heat is cut down by a bit. And, as best as I’ve been able to identify during my trips here, there isn’t a trace of civilization around for miles. A wonderful location for a picnic.

Laying out a blanket and getting things unpacked is quick work with six hands helping, and once I’m sitting down I close my eyes and finally, finally let myself relax a bit. A lot, actually. Even with all my experience, both with teaching and beyond it, there’s no easy way to just magically block all the stress that naturally builds up over the course of a semester from getting to you. I’ve looked, but it doesn’t exist. Not unless you’re willing to get pretty far deep into mind-altering substances, and that’s a bit much for my tastes. No, even though I love teaching, there’s a reason I look forward to breaks. This particular summer might be a good bit different from the others, but I have a feeling it’ll be rejuvenating in its own way.

"Professor?"

I tilt my head up and open my eyes, looking at Selin. She’s looking back at me with a slightly hesitant expression, and uses one hand to gesture to her cheek.

"You’ve got a…"

I lift up a hand to touch my own face, and… oh. Ha. Well, there’s a reason I normally don’t let myself feel this loose around others. Glancing over at Ember, I see she’s barely managing to hold in a giggle, impertinent creature that she is.

"Nothing you haven’t seen before," I say, leaning back again and gazing up at the sky. Giving my body a bit more mental slack, consciously this time, the smattering of scales that had slipped onto my face bloom into patches, not fully covering me but enough to ease some of the barely noticeable tension that lives in the back of my head whenever I’m keeping to a human form. "A consequence of letting myself enjoy the environment, so to speak. Not usually a problem, but just something to keep in mind depending on the current company at the time."

"Ah," Selin responds succinctly. She doesn’t say more, but I can feel the unspoken questions anyway. Well, no point in delaying.

"Alright," I say, pushing myself all the way back up to a sitting position and facing her, a slight smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Be honest. How much time did you spend reading about us while you should have been studying?"

"That’s… a subjective measure," she answers, affronted. I say nothing. "But… maybe six hours?"

I raise a ridged eyebrow. Selin squirms.

"Okay, more like… twelve-ish. But it’s fine, I had to take breaks from studying anyway, and Professor Aldebaran literally had us make sleep-substitution potions as the last assignment before finals."

"Which I tell her is a horrible idea every year, and yet here we are," I say, pinching the bridge of nose to disguise itching it. Letting my scales come in leisurely like this is nice, but they have a tendency to tingle. "But I digress. I wish you hadn’t, but unfortunately I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same, were I in your position. What have you gotten through so far? I’m very familiar with the contents of the academy’s library."

"Um, most of Draconis Magnificens, the relevant portions of Thorne’s Feather, Scale, and Aether, Children of the Sky-Fire was well-written but more about weird dragon-worshipping cult stuff than usable information, and one of the librarians recommended Blackwood’s Spark to Shadow for soul stuff. It felt like more of a think-piece than practical information, but apparently it’s hard to find anything on the topic that isn’t written from a primarily religious perspective."

"Spark to Shadow isn’t bad, but I doubt it’ll have what you’re looking for," I hum. "I’ve got some relevant works in my library at home that you might enjoy. I have… somewhat of a personal interest in the matter."

This earns me a small laugh from both girls, which is nice.

"The Scale of Feather, Scale, and Aether isn’t bad either," I press on. "Aris Thorne doesn’t make many assumptions, which is nice, but he still takes a rather human-centric approach to his presentation. Draconis Magnificens is so inaccurate it’s basically fiction, I’m sorry to say. Sky-Fire is a mostly accurate account of a period of my life I don’t love dwelling on, so let’s just skip that one, shall we?"

Selin’s eyes open a bit wider at that little revelation, but thankfully she doesn’t press.

"I found a bit more, research papers and whatnot, but there wasn’t really anything I could confirm as credible," she says, shrugging. "So I eventually figured it would be best to just… ask you."

I nod slowly, accepting my second cup of tea for the day from Ember almost without thinking. Selin gets one too, and knowing Ember, the temperature will be right on the upper edge of what she can currently handle. We’ll have to take some time to get that up.

"Never a bad conclusion to come to," I say. "Do you have specific questions, or would you like a more general overview of things?"

"I do have specific questions," Selin starts, "but I think I’d like to hear your overview. You probably have a better idea of what’s immediately relevant than I do."

"In that case, then, we’ll start with the soul," I state. "If you’ll recall, at our last meeting, I mentioned a… mismatch, so to speak. Being born with a soul not befitting of the body."

Selin nods, so I continue.

"It’s a technically accurate statement, and conveys the general idea well enough, but it’s not specific. Your soul is, fundamentally, what holds you. Your identity, your personality, your consciousness, everything that makes the girl sitting in front of me right now Selin Lettea and not some zombified husk of habits and automatic responses that merely playacts at being a person. Your soul, working in tandem with your brain, to give you life, shape your thoughts, and make you who you are. The soul serves other purposes as well, of course, the channeling and control of mana being one of the major ones, but that’s not really what we’re focusing on here. The quality of the soul more relevant to us is what happens when you—"

I point one blue-speckled finger at her.

"—start to push up against the bounds of this."

I lean forward and tap her on the forehead. She blinks, then refocuses on me as I sit back.

"I’m not sure I follow."

"I’ll try to illustrate. Imagine your soul as… as… Ember?"

"A plant, my lady."

"A plant, yes, thank you," I nod affirmatively. "A flower, ivy, whatever, it doesn’t matter for the metaphor. You, Selin, that spark of life and identity and consciousness, are a plant contained within a decorative pot. As you start from a metaphorical seed at birth, you grow, putting down roots and sending up sprouts and all those good things plants do. Things are fine for a time as you mature and thrive, but then…"

I hold up the same hand I used to poke her in a closed fist, slowly spreading my fingers before abruptly stopping in place.

"You find that you have run up against the edges of the pot. Your roots have permeated every bit of soil, your leaves are eking out every bit of sunlight they can get from the shelf the pot is placed on, and every drop of water you get is quickly sucked up, leaving you dry and wanting more. And yet, there is still so much more left for you to grow. Are you following me so far?"

"I think so, yeah," she answers.

"Right. For most people, this is a non-issue. They have been planted correctly, with a pot adequately sized and shaped for their needs, to let their roots grow comfortably and soak up all the nutrients they need for a lifetime. But for others, like us, they are quite literally a different kind of plant. Some need a different climate, some need more nutrients, but in this case… to put it simply, you’ve been planted in the wrong pot, and it’s choking you. You’ll live, yes, but you won’t thrive. Your leaves will wither, your roots will dry, and eventually you will find your soil and your pot have nothing left to give you, and your life comes to an end. Tragic, preventable, and most people who this happens to don’t even realize that it is the case."

Selin slowly nods, and I can tell from the look on her face that she seems to be understanding. It’s not a perfect metaphor, but I think it serves its purpose.

"There are ways to mitigate this, of course. We can refer to this as adding more soil to the pot, if you’d like, giving you a bit more room to expand. Frankly, just acknowledging the problem for what it is does wonders; that’s a rather large added scoop right there. But, unfortunately, this only works to an extent. Eventually you’ll run up against the rim of the pot and you can’t add any more soil. I should say, when I’m referring to a pot, I’m not talking solely about your physical body. It’s an extremely significant factor, yes, but things like your family and social environment, hobbies, personal fulfillment, the expectations placed upon you, and more all come together to form the bounds of expression and existence you fit within. There’s a bit of wiggle room there, but I hope it conveys the idea properly."

"It does, yes," Selin says, looking contemplative. "So, adding more soil only does so much. What do you do when you’ve added all you can, and it’s still not enough?"

"The answer to that, my dear, is up to you," I inform her. "Tell me. Do you feel fulfilled?"

"What, in life?"

"In life, socially, academically, whatever. I suppose, if we want to get more specific, do you feel as though the paths you are currently on will lead to personal fulfillment in those aspects? Take your time."

"I… uh… wow, okay, wasn’t really expecting this sort of question in this talk." She actually thinks for a minute, which I appreciate. "I… don’t think I have any good reason to believe that they won’t?"

"That’s not what I asked," I counter. Selin looks at me, eyes roaming over my face, taking another moment before she responds.

"Passion and certainty. Confidence and contentment," she says. "Is that what you’re asking about?"

"It is if you think it is. I acknowledge that that’s frustratingly vague, but personal determinism is sort of the name of the game here."

"Then… I think I don’t know. It feels like the kind of thing that’s impossible to know ahead of time, which might speak more to myself than any sort of objective truth of the sapient experience, if that’s what you’re getting at. I have friends, I love my family, I have a feeling I’m at the top of at least one of my classes, I have a lot of promising options for a career. Discounting what we’ve been talking about, shouldn’t all of that be a recipe for personal fulfillment?’ "Perhaps," I say. "But…?"

Selin glances away, taking in the meadow, the mountains, the cloudless sky. She looks down at her teacup, and the bag resting at her hip. When her eyes meet mine again, there’s a depth to them, a touch of intention that wasn’t present before.

"Should. It’s what should be fulfilling."

A small smile starts sneaking its way onto my face again.

"What would fulfill you, Selin?"

She takes a breath.

"I said it before. I don’t know. But… if I break the pot, I might find out."

There she is.

"So," Selin says. "How do I do this?"

The intention in her eyes is resolve now, a fiery determination that I could lead her towards but never outright give her. If, for whatever reason, I were to walk away at this point, I think she has the fuel to figure out the whole thing on her own, like I did. It only serves to reaffirm my decision to help her, though.

"Onto the second topic, then," I smile. "You, Selin, are a dragon. I hope the events of last week proved it well enough for the idea to take root, and in any case that’s something we’ll be working on. That fact is going to be your lifeline and your guiding star. I used to be in the same situation you were, though without anyone to help me through it, and it took me the first eighty precious years of my life to get to the point that I expect you’ll be at in three months. At times, the only thing that kept me going was clinging to that fact like it was the foundation of reality itself."

As I talk, I push more and more of my body into inhumanity. Cerulean scales bloom over every inch of my skin, claws replace nails, and a few blinks see my pupils slitted and much sharper. Each change feels like unclasping a weight from my soul and dropping it, letting myself feel freer and indisputably me. It’s not hard to notice Selin watching me a bit more intently than she was before, though the expression on her face is less than scrutable. My wings neatly fill in the space where the ever-present phantom limb sensation tells me they should be, and I give them a quick stretch and let out a small sigh of relief before continuing.

"The real challenge lies not in knowing who you are academically, but knowing who you are internally. How you think of yourself, what you expect from yourself, what you know to be true and not true about what you are. You need to be able to see yourself in the mirror and know that there is more to you than that shape that you see, and rather than lament what you are not, be proud of what you know you are."

"Is that it?" Selin asks dubiously.

"Oh, of course not," I scoff. "If that was all there was to it, this whole thing wouldn’t be nearly as much of a problem. But it is the first step, and I think you’ll be surprised by just how much It helps. Just give it a try. Say it out loud."

She’s quiet for a moment, lips pursed.

"I don’t… it feels silly."

"Of course it does. You haven’t internalized it yet. But that’s not going to happen unless you say it. What are you?"

She sighs and pulls in on herself a bit.

"I’m… a dragon."

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" I smile.

"Still felt silly."

"Yeah, but soon it won’t. Here," I say, gesturing to the felt bag at her hip. "Pull out your stone. I think it might help."

She doesn’t push back on this, at least, uncinching the drawstring holding the bag closed and reaching a hand in to pull out the glittering purple corundum I gave her a week ago, grasping it with her other hand as she does. The shift is subtle, of course, but to me the way she sits up just a little straighter while she looks at the large gemstone is as telling as anything. When she meets my gaze again, she looks just a bit more sure, which is all we really need.

"What is that?" I ask her.

"Corundum, you said. The same thing that rubies and sapphires are made of."

"What is it to you?"

"I don’t think I… Oh! It’s my hoard," she says, needing a moment to realize what I’m asking. Looking at her face, it takes a full second and a half after saying that for her to remember that some part of her thinks she needs to feel embarrassed about saying it out loud.

"Why do you have a hoard, Selin?"

"Because you gave it to me?" she tries, with a joking smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I raise a brow, and she wilts a little. "Because… I’m a dragon."

"Selin, I’m afraid that the lady is incredibly old and therefore very hard of hearing," Ember assists me unhelpfully. "You might need to say it again for her to hear it properly."

Selin rolls her eyes, and I only barely manage to keep myself from doing the same. At the end of the roll, though, her eyes land on the gem in her hands, and her knuckles pale slightly as she takes a deep breath and grips it just a bit tighter.

"Because I’m a dragon."

She has so much further to go, but that’s the first step. Actually acknowledging it. It’ll take a long time for her to fully believe it, of course, but her voice has the hint of confidence I was looking for, the seed that will grow into something strong enough to shatter that pot into a million pieces. Some small part of her believes in who and what she is, and that makes all the difference.

The three of us settle a bit, actually lying down on the picnic blanket to enjoy the environment and take in nature for a change. It’s so radically different from city life, with the only sounds being the breeze gently ruffling the foliage around us, the chirping of birds off in the distance, and our own breathing. I don’t know what’s going through Selin’s head at the moment, but I don’t have to wonder for long.

"Can I ask what might be a silly question?" she says after some time, staring up at the sky.

"If you want to know the answer, then of course," I tell her.

She shifts a bit on the blanket, perhaps in contemplation, perhaps just finding a more comfortable position.

"What does life… look like? After you figure things out. How does it change, I mean?"

I don’t respond immediately, because this isn’t the type of question that should be answered immediately. Despite how she prefaced it, it’s not a silly question at all. It’s important, because I can tell she wants to know what to expect from life, to try and understand the situation she’s found herself in that will have such far-reaching effects. So, how do I answer? What did my life look like, during that century of exploration and obsession? I could describe it for her, sure, but… no.

"I hate to say this again, since I doubt it will be the assurance you’re most likely looking for, but once again I think the answer to that is up to you. It’s your life, Selin, and nobody can tell you how to live it, especially not now. I can say you’ll hopefully go through things with a bit more confidence, at the very least, sure in yourself, your capabilities, and your identity. But beyond that… I can’t divine the answer for you. Your life won’t look like mine, and I wouldn’t recommend it either way. You have so many options ahead of you. Stick to your studies, find something new, do some original research into the nature of the soul, if that’s what interests you. Travel a bit, find ruins, piece together what was lost to history. Start a cult, end a war, go into teaching. Hells, if you really wanted you could go the classic route, find yourself a cave, amass a hoard greater than the wealth of some nations, and terrorize some poor innocent townsfolk. It’s up to you, Selin."

I have to take a breath after that, preparing my thoughts before continuing.

"But… would you like to know what I would advise?" I ask, and Selin nods. "Take your time. Finish your degree. Make friends and spend time with them. Allow yourself to have normality. Don’t… throw yourself into things, and don’t think that everything has to change simply because you figured yourself out. Time is something you’ll have a lot of, in the long run, so don’t rush it now and miss the opportunities you have just because you’re chasing something greater. You’re young, and you shouldn’t let anything take that away from you. Least of all yourself."

"I can’t just… ignore all this," she says, but in a way that tells me it’s more of a prompt than a counter.

"And I doubt it’d be healthy to, so don’t," I tell her. "But that shouldn’t stop you from living the life that you might have, before all this. That you might still want to, just with a bit more clarity. You might be figuring out what you are, but that doesn’t change who you are."

"Poignant," she says, her voice carrying a soft smile.

"Well, I’ve had a bit of time to reflect on things," I laugh. "Think about what I wish had happened differently. I doubt I’d be a very good teacher if I didn’t feel some desire to share that insight with someone who might need it."

The rest of the afternoon is pleasant, a nice, idyllic picnic in the mountains, the perfect way to wind down at the end of the semester. Ember did a wonderful job with the preparations (overlooking the fact that the cheeky imp decided to bring dragonfruit for an accompaniment), and it seems as though Selin enjoyed herself too. She looks more… settled, perhaps, than she did. Her journey has only just begun, and she clearly knows it, but she also knows more of what it will entail, and maybe she feels a bit more confident in her own ability to complete it. It’s a good look on her.

"It would most likely be a good idea to head back to the academy sometime soon," I say after another long period of quiet enjoyment. "I wouldn’t want to abduct you for so long that the school starts sending out search parties."

"Not unless it turns out I’m somehow a long-lost princess, too," Selin laughs. "Hey. Earlier, you mentioned the point you expected me to be at in three months. Does that mean you have stuff you want me to do over the summer?"

"Ideally," I respond, "we’d be doing a lot over the summer. Truth be told, I haven’t actually done something like this before, as a pretense or not, but, conditional on your interest, I intend to offer you an apprenticeship. It would be significantly more holistic than just studies of a draconian nature, of course, but I think the pretense would also serve as a good opportunity to further your explorations in a setting where privacy is less of a concern. As far as I know, you don’t have any preexisting plans for the break, correct?"

"I, uh, wow, yeah. I mean no, I don’t," Selin stammers. "I… I was just going to stay at home, so I’ll have to talk to my family, but… holy shit yeah that sounds amazing, thank you!"

Well, that seems pretty definitive.

"You’re very welcome," I smile. "I think it will be a good experience for all of us."

"It’ll be nice to be home again for a while," Ember remarks as she begins to clean up.

"Oh goddess, please don’t remind me," I groan. "Having the three of you in one place again is going to be bad enough even if I wasn’t going to be devoting much of my time and attention to teaching Selin."

"We’ll be good, I promise!" Ember chirps with a smile much too puckish for her human face. "Best behavior."

"I don’t believe you for even a second."

"Past performance is not indicative of future results!" she declares. "And besides, would you really deny me this? The city can be so stifling, you know."

"I definitely get that," Selin mutters, pushing herself upright so she can give Ember a hand. "Wait, is that a dragon thing?"

"In all likelihood, yes," I say. "But to be honest, I think it’s a pretty widespread sentiment. In any case, I think you’ll enjoy the estate, even with three fountainheads of mischief running around."

I push myself up as well, climbing to my feet and giving my wings one last good flare and stretch before I fold them up and start the transition back into a more human-standard form. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a proper flight in, and they ache to be used, but now is not the time, unfortunately. Though, who knows? I might end up needing to teach Selin to fly before the summer’s over, if she makes enough progress. That would certainly be something.

Cleaning up is quick with many hands once again making light work of things, though I think we all are at least a little reluctant to leave. Selin expresses this by falling back onto the flattened patch of wildflowers where the blanket was, sighing with contentment after an initial small gasp from landing.

"Wow this was wonderful," she says. "Thanks again, for… everything."

"You are very welcome, my dear," I tell her. "But stay like that and you’ll stain your clothes."

"Oh please, I’m not an infant, I know how to use prestidigitation," Selin giggles, starting to move her arms and legs like she’s making a snow angel in spring. She seems to be enjoying herself, at least. "And it is so nice out here. I think I’d love to come back sometime, if it’s not too much trouble."

"I’m not the one who isn’t accustomed to teleportation," I smirk. "But yes, it’s one of my favorites for a reason."

She eventually stops with her limbs spread wide, getting in a bit more rest before she has to get up. I don’t have to take such a long time changing back into my human guise, but it’s nice to spend as much time as close to my real body as I can get. Plus, transformation is such an interesting sensation. And it’s only because I save my draconic eyes with their better-than-human perception for last that I spot it. Or, given that there looks to be a few, them.

"Selin," I start, "out of curiosity, how practiced are you with illusion spells?"

"Not very much at all," she answers, looking up at me quizzically. "I know theory, of course, but it always felt kinda weird to use, so I haven’t really used it since second year. Why?"

So, it’s not her doing it as a somewhat odd way of trying things out. Fuck. That’s… is she even trying to do anything? Or is it just happening, somehow? That would be… unimaginable. I kneel down to her left, heedless of dirtying my own clothes, and slip one hand under her elbow, lifting it slightly.

"You might want to brush up," I tell her, gazed locked on her arm. "Goddess above, I thought it was a mole at first. But… here."

I touch the space slightly above her inner elbow with my free hand, then guide her arm upwards for her to see. She brings her arm over her face herself, squinting slightly as she does her best to focus with her eyes currently accustomed to the strong light from the sky. Then, they go wide as she sees what I saw.

Seven tiny scales sit on her arm, arranged in a circle with one in the middle. The little cluster is maybe half the diameter of a ten-cent coin all together, the scales in soft areas like joints always being smaller to allow for greater flexibility, but they’re there, each one a brilliant, rich purple. Perfectly matching the gem I picked out for her, chosen for her favorite color.

"Holy fuck," Selin breathes. "I’m a dragon."

[hungrysnail69]

salutations i will be writing or TRYING to write teen au!simon x awkward! reader cause every time i request it NO ONE REPLIES dw tho guys🙂‍↕️ ladies this IS 18+ characters im not doing anything weird pls🙏

╰┈➤ # part 1? btw i will MOST likely write a few povs cause i literally am so bunz at this

♡ ♡ ♡

imagine you and simon have been semi friends, more like just know each other rather than just hanging out together by choice, you were all awkward, clammy, altogether just a loser of the school. not many talk to you besides simon.

fast forward, it’s monday, maybe you forgot to check if it’s tuesday or monday..anyway simon was supposed to work with you on a project for..err..english? well, you heard there was a party since everyone’s back from winter break, people just find any excuse to party now.. your snapped out of your thinking when a thud hit the table,

“hey,luv. snap out of your fantasy, i need to talk to you about that project.”

as the notebook and whatever shit he carried slammed in the table..

or maybe i was hallucinating and assumed he said luv? or was it loser.. doesn’t matter..wait..what is he talking about again?

your snapped back to reality once more to some snapping and getting air blown into ur face, furrowed brows as you had a few blinks before looking up back at him, the cafeteria was loud and dim, a bit too hot for winter, and just overstimulating. it felt better when you weren’t snapped into reality.

the sudden closeness got you all embarrassed and red from the closeness of his face blowing air into ur face, he smelt like..the butcher he worked at and like he sprayed cologne all over to hide the fact his family was poor and didn’t have a good shower.

“the project? isn’t it due in like..literally a week?”

you blink again a few more times, like you were trying to blink your memories back, you haven’t been really paying attention. staying back at home to sleep in, be late, skip a few classes and repeat. no wonder your not popular..

“it’s due this week? i thought since you had glasses you were a nerd. suppose you have bad eye sight and bad memory.”

you furrow your brows at his teasing and slightly make a awkward laugh, like a huff of a laugh, glancing at the time behind him and sigh.

“do you wanna go to mine..or yours?”

you remember your room was left a mess, and the library wouldn’t work, it’s never really quiet, it’s quiet but awkward quiet.. you slightly tense at the thought of him seeing your room, your already not popular and the thought of the only guy who talked to you, rarely though, to see the room you basically never left, messy bed covers, clothes laid out everywhere, your bookshelf that barely had books, mostly figures or trinkets, posters of guys you thought were cute, you knew you were done for.

“let’s go to yours, luv, i can’t make what id think your room would be like.”

no no..that time you HEARD IT.

“what’d you just call me?” you nearly stumbled in your step to the exit of the school, assuming he’d skip the rest of the day. already feeling your hands clam up and get all red in embarrassment.

“i didn’t call you anything, your hearing stuff, hm? is that another problem you have? vision..memory..anddd..you hear things?”

you practically scoff, a little annoyed, you could see that smug grin he had, he was just playing with you, right in your face, watching you get red and fidgety, you just continue to walk, realizing you did in fact forget if he ever mentioned if he was going to yours, stopping in your tracks and looking up at him. furrowing at the coldness nipping your cheeks and nose.

“wait, soo mine right? i forgot..but that doesn’t mean i have a memory problem i just was distracted.” you try to excuse it but you know that he was probably right, lately you’ve been odd, forgetting, having migraines, etc.

suddenly, it comes back and you smile proud before literally exploding your answer, “OH! you did say mine, sorry. i just remembered” you beam proudly. yet he barely even glances at you, just agreeing in a hum and side glancing before continuing to follow the sidewalk.

fast forward and your walking into your house, clammy hands, the itch between your collarbones about being nervous for him to see your house, most importantly your room.!

you lead him to your room as your cats stretch out and meow for some food, giving them some food before retreating to your room, nervously letting him go in. you slid your shoes off and kick away some clothes on the floor by your bed, fidgeting with your sweater.

“sorry. i didn’t expect you to come over. obviously.. but uh..do you want anything?..” you start to feel more nervous at the way he seemed shocked at all your pink cute stuff. not expecting it from someone as loserish and awkward as you, you wore mostly baggy clothes and this room was just all cutesy.

she fidget with your nails, picking and looking off to the side like you were cross eyed.. you were about to say what drinks you had in the fridge, well the ones you assume you still had before he interrupts like he already knew what drinks you have.

“i don’t need anything..” he sighed, “we need to do this project before i’m kicked off the team.”

oh right..he played for..something..err.. “oh okay, well..i can help you since, mrs B put us together cause i’m smarter in english than you,” you laugh, he didn’t laugh. “err..okay then.”

after an entire hour of studying or well researching for the project, you were already pulling out snacks, chewing on some chips while laying on the bed on your stomach. sharing the laptop for research. then another hour, and another..and you weren’t even most done when it got late.

you legit fell asleep while he was taking control of the laptop, taking turns to find evidence with real information instead of those weird websites with weird facts. your cheek on ur elbow as you fight the sleep before letting it take over. he glanced at you to ask a question and just internally got frustrated.

──── ୨୧ ────

SIMONS POV^^

as i looked over to ask her a simple question if the information was related to the topic, she fell asleep. i rub my face because there wasn’t much time to finish this, but i didn’t want to wake her. she looked too peaceful, and even drooled. furrowing my brows slightly as i watched her sleep for a moment before contemplating if i should finish the project myself or just close the laptop and continue later, checking the time, i realized it was late late. 2:43am. i got up, turned off the light and decided, maybe we could work on this tomorrow, maybe even skip school since she skips a bit anyway. wouldn’t be too bad.. she’s not too bad.

i fell asleep in her vanity chair while she slept on the bed, waking up to a sore body and feeling tired as shit from the lack of sleep from the chair being the most uncomfortable thing ever. i notice she wasn’t awake. checking the time, they were late for school but it’s not like they were going anyway right? i get up to wake her and make plans to see if she’ll be fine skipping, shaking her shoulder slightly before watching her turn her face more into a pillow made something in him shift, did he really just get heart flutters from a girl asleep?

“alright..wake up, luv, it’s 8:26am, we’re late for school.” i trailed off, semi hoping she wouldn’t get up. “we could..skip if you want, work on the project together?”

she finally woke up and sat up, the blanket bunched by her hip, my eyes naturally trail over her hip up to her face, i never even realized how cute she was. suppose she wasn’t as bad as i thought. i found myself moving a piece of hair in her face, crazy hair, it felt strange to feel so..warm while being with someone, especially her. she murmured some words, he didn’t know if he fully knew what she said, and asked to repeat it.

“can’t hear ya luvie..what’d you say?” before realizing what she had said.

“mm..i’m awake..i mean..we can work on the project but..can i sleep in? you can share the bed if you want.. it’s big enough for two.”

♡ ♡ ♡

anyways i’ll make a part 2 tmr maybe, i wrote this with a insane migraine so idk if it even makes sense, not proof read cause my eyes hurt and i don’t feel like rereading it! ik this is a lot of thoughts and not talking but i think ill fix it soon^^ if you actually read it and made it to this thank u sm^.^

[werewolfsone]

Here is a post for those terror confession blog submissions who don't know "where to start" with thinking about colonialism in this show.

We could definitely talk about "mutiny camp" and how there is a very distinctive split between classes when it comes to who joined the mutiny and who didn't. The mutineers are working/lower class, excluding George Hodgson, who was shown having relatively no choice being so lost and desperate he'd eat his own boot. But that was a distinctive step down in status for George, to join the mutineers. He relinquished power in order to survive. Those men who willingly signed up for mutiny were men who had not been given anything on a silver platter ever. They spent the entire expedition following officers who'd gone from a wealthy childhood to schooling designed to skip hard labor and install them as midshipman, mates, and lieutenants, stations above the common masses, basically a leg up given just because of what families they were born to. And then the working class men saw those "above" them make decisions that treated those men "below" as expendable. Being treated as expendable changes your perspective on things very drastically. It makes you wonder what the value is of a system who counts an expedition as a success even if you needlessly perish. (We will revisit this last point in a moment.)

I was thinking about how much fanfic uses mutineer camp (or simply Hickey) as an "cardboard cutout villain" for various AU/canon divergent scenarios (which is fine because we're all playing with these men like dolls) but how little uses Sir John (who in reality committed QUITE atrocious crimes against humanity) or the Admiralty (the men who Lady Jane and Sophia Cracroft are shown pleading to, who weigh the value of saving 130+ human lives against the value of the monetary cost of launching a search mission) or the officers of the ships who simply bought in to their positions of power.

Why do I want to see life so badly from a lieutenant's perspective- the guys who have cabins and privacy and get real meals every once in a while instead of rotten tins? Why not the characters closer to my own current socioeconomic position in society? Crammed in to hammocks together like sardines because their numbers are the important part? Am I reflecting Gibson's "you know who copulates in ships? rats" speech when I condemn the mutineers as evil and herald the officers as heroes? Perhaps like Hickey I want to dream of a life where I can be clean, fed, well-dressed, and pursue whom I love without the amount of struggle I face daily. Perhaps like Tommy Armitage I dream of a life where I have power and strength and get a modicum of respect from society which regularly steps all over me.

It's a razor-thin edge because the trap that Hickey discovered all too late is that the systems designed to kill you can't be forcibly wielded as a weapon to your advantage. He couldn't turn a colonialist attitude into a way to becoming King of the North himself. The system was always designed to kill him to further its goals of expansion, assimilation and consumption. (*He could hurt others with the weapon of colonialism, but the only version of success you can find in it is the success the empire tells you you should want. The system told him to be economically productive for the upper class and die in poverty when he could no longer physically handle that, and wanting more than that is wanting beyond his allotted station in life.)

The second half of the coin is that the officers are victims too- because the prestige is the carrot, it's not the actual truth. They are equally as expendable in the eyes of the empire. The empire doesn't care about a single man on that ship. You can die without a footnote in a history book, like the real Cornelius Hickey, or you can die championing the empire and doing your damndest to help it fulfil its insatiable hunger and dehumanize any opponents it has, like the real Fitzjames, but both men served it and are just as useful dead as alive. The little treats and bonuses, money and health and cleanliness and pardon from crimes, is enough to get people to fall in line and enforce a strict hierarchy under the often-false promise of happiness and protection. It's enough to get people to use violence against anyone who tries to buck the system (Hickey) or anyone who is in the way of resources for the system's growth (all native people of Nunavut). That's colonialism. It's an inherently inhuman and cruel system.

And all of this can exist inside your head simultaneously as reading smut and PWP and lusting after hot men and writing silly fanfic. It's not mutually exclusive and doesn't cancel each other out. It's also cool to combine the ideas when those more complex ideas resonate with you. In fact, combining your weird passions and pervy interests with real world issues that resonate with you is a really really good way to make art!

[mattsdivaa]

Walk home

Toughguy!matt x sweetheart!reader

And their you where in class just another Tuesday, matt already beat you to your desk you sat next to him to see he already started his worksheet the teacher had gave out “matt psss matt” you whisper tapping his shoulder not wanting to disturb the rest of the class you noticed the headphones in his ear, you pulled one out so hes forced to listen to you “what are your plans after school?” He looked at you just to see that big smile you always had on your face the one he loved but would never admit “probably gonna get high and skate with a couple friends” that’s when he seen that annoying look in your eye “no no you cannot come I won’t let you!” He whispers like he meant it “but come on mr.grumpyy I don’t have work today and I need something to do” he raised an eyebrow “you work?” You chuckled “you didn’t know that, I work at the record shop down the street from the skate park your always at” that’s when the bell rang “meet me at the back of the school when school ends I won’t wait for you, if your not their by the time im out their im leaving you.” You stand up grabbing your bag walking out with matt “ill be looking forward to it” he says grabbing your wrist before you could turn the corner to get to you next class, you give him a small head nod before you continued to walk.

AFTER SCHOOL

The clock had a minute before the bell rang, their you where standing up, the only kid that was standing and by the time the bell rang you sprinted out, the halls filled quick, you shoved and pushed to get to the back of the school. Out of breath and hands on your knees he was no where to be found “matt?” You say you turn around to see matt with a smirk on his face “kid you that desperate you beat me here” he starts laughing, you smack his head playfully “nothings funny Matthew” he stops laughing and puts his little nonchalant face on “don’t call me my full name, only my friends can”

As you guys walked you talked about many things.. or well you did and honestly you thought matt was listening but you realized his headphones where in so you decided to stop talking mid walk “why did you stop talking?” He says more of a mumble you turn and take one his earbuds to make sure he could hear you “didn’t know you where listening.” He gives you a smile before pointing to the skate park, he puts both hands on your shoulders “listen my friends can be dicks don’t let anything they say get to your head” you nod in response.

You see 3 boys “slump, Nate , and my brother Chris” matt introduces you to them “boys this is y/n” slump the one with long curly hair, blue eyes baggy cargos start to laugh “its the freak you spilled spaghetti on you matt” Chris stands up, Nate gets on his knees “oh my god im so sorry!” “What the fuck is wrong with you” they start recreating what had happened this day matt puts his board on the floor and skates over to them, face unreadable but his eyes sharp you can feel this shift in the air immediately, “ha ha very funny” matt says flatly, stopping infant of slump “ I think I remembered what happened” slumps grin falters “relax bro we where just messing around”

You sat down, you legs hanging in the bowl, slump smoking a cigarette, Chris sitting next to you Nate and matt skating in the bowl. Chris looks at you “you know as tough as matt acts hes like a big teddy bear” you glance at matt before you looked at Chris “matt. A teddy bear?” He chuckles “yeah he thinks he needs to be cool around them and everybody else but really hes a big softie. Stay around and he’ll let you see his teddy bear side” Chris stands up joining slump to smoke a cigarette. you glance at matt with a smile not taking you eyes off him.

They were fast, like really fast. Loud, reckless and so boyish it made you laugh when Nate tried to do an ollie and completely ate shit. “Yo matt you gonna write her name on your board next?” Slump and Nate teased “matts got a crush” Nate teased in a high pitched voice, matt stopped skating. He stood still in the middle of the lot, one foot on his board, then without looking at anyone he turned his head just slightly and stared at you. You.

Sitting on the floor, hoodie sleeves bunched in your first, the sun hitting your face, watching him like theirs no place you rather be. You tilted your head, gave him a small smile not big just enough to let him know you say him and that’s when it hit you. He likes you. He fucking likes you. Slump laughed again. “dude your staring” matt whipped around grabbing his board “eat shit.” Matt walks over to you “bored yet?” You shook you head “no not even a little but I got to start heading home” “you wanna head home” You nodded, stretching as you stood. “Yeah. My parents might think I’m dead.” “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”

THE WALK HOME

You both stopped at the corner where you had to split, your house a few blocks that way, his in the opposite direction. Matt stood there a second, kicking his board up and catching it, but he didn’t say goodbye. He just stared at the ground, lips parted like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to start. You took a step back, giving him the out. “See you tomorrow?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Tomorrow. And you turned to walk away. But behind you, Matt stood there, eyes on your back as you walked down the street. His heart beat a little too fast, a little too loud. And for the first time in a long time, he wanted to chase something. But he didn’t. Not yet. He just whispered to himself, almost too quiet for the night to hear:

“Fuck.” Because now he knew he liked you And it scared the hell out of him.

Just reposting this so it’s a lil messy!!! Next part here

Taglist- @sturnsblogs @bernardsbendystraws @kenah-sturniolo @devotedlyteenagemusic @sarahsturnn @courta13 @kahlidosenotread @sheluvsthesturniolos @mattspillowprincess @sturns-mermaid @iluvchr1s @chrepsi @lifecansmd @sturniololovaa @chrepsi @aaliyah-sturns @sturnspup @mattsturluver @xsturnkay @angelxsturns @yuh13lo @chrisissos3xy @dandoonsturns @lyingonchris @sturniolo-szn2 @everythingaboutbags @norahsturns @idontneedaxanny2feelbetter

[xmochacoffeex]

Chapter 4

Reader noticed her family was in the living room, as it seem like they were waiting for her. “Is there something you need?” She asked

“Yes, I heard from Jason that you’ve been attending the live house everyday after school.” Bruce said

“Yes. I’ve been attending there to practice my skills and to improve them. Is there something wrong with that?”

“Why haven’t you told us that you can sing so.. so powerful?” Jason said, annoyed while deep down he was jealous of her… of her skills…

“Yeah, we could’ve went karaoke together!” Steph said, upset that she barely know anything about her little sister

“While I do apologize for not telling you about my singing, but I do not have time for such childish things. I need to get ready for practice tomorrow.”

“Wait? Practice? But wouldn’t you like to hang out with me instead, I mean we could always go to the arcade.” Damian said, hoping that this would be the chance to reconnect with his sister and maybe quit making music as he really didn’t see what the big hype about it

“Yeah, I mean it’s been a while since we last hang out with each other. Right dad?” Tim asked

“That’s correct, we should have a family day tomorrow and get the time to know each other, so Reader you might have to hold on with all that music stuff.” Bruce said, while he do support his daughter and hobbies but he feel like music would be a distraction of having her be inherited to the Wayne Enterprise

“I’m sorry, but I will not be attending family day tomorrow as I will be completely busy. Like I said before, I do not entertain such childish things and I need to focus.” Reader said, before taking her leave to her room as she had told Alfred to not let anyone bother her for today and tomorrow.

It’s been a few days, since Reader and Sayo had been working on creating the perfect song as they arrived at the live house to see Ako and Rinko were waiting for them. “Okay… Today’s the day! Reader, I was wondering…”

“Go home.” Reader said, having no business to entertain this child needs while she wonder if this would make that girl stop asking her to join her band. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case, this keep repeating for the next couple of days until Sayo had told her to give up on trying to join their band.

“I don’t know why that girl is so interested in joining this band.” Sayo said, after finishing up practicing the guitar

“I don’t know and I don’t care, I won’t allow such distractions to keep me- us from creating the perfect song for Future World Fes. Besides I need members that are serious about music.” Reader said, checking her phone to see multiple messages from Jason telling her to drop out of creating a band. This annoyed her as she headed back to the manor, she was determined to block his number but she really doesn’t have the strength to deal with his constant threats.

The next day, after school Reader and Lisa had just finished with their classes and walked towards the school entrance. “What? Are you actually serious, Reader?!” Lisa said, completely shocked

“I am. I have formed a band, with a girl called Sayo. We only have guitar and vocals so far, but we are looking to write songs to take part in a band contest.”

“Wow… Haha! How about that? I’m surprised, you didn’t tell me anything!” Lisa smiled, while she knew this day would come that Reader would find some way to create a band. “So you’re finally starting up a band. I was starting to get worried, you never seem to hang out with anyone other than me.” She teased

“Lisa… I really am serious about this. Sayo and I share the same goal, of playing the Future World Fes. That’s why we’ve come together.” Reader was determined that making his band would work, she just need her father to noticed the music that she created. “Plus, with my father…”

“Yeah… I know. I don’t know about your goal there, but… I’m happy for you. I’m really glad you found someone you can practice with. But Future World Fes needs three or more people per band, right? What are you gonna do?”

“Aren’t you going to try to stop me?”

“Would you listen if I did? Besides I’m sure you made it very clear with Damian that you were still going to create this band whether they like it or not.” Lisa said, remembering how Reader scolded Damian for bothering about how she should give up on making music.

“Lisa…” Reader said sadly, as she was about to say something until someone interrupted her

“Reader! Please, please!” Ako said, walking up to them

“Hmm? Ako? What are you doing here?” Lisa asked

“Do you know her, Lisa?”

“Please! Please please please! I promise I’m really, really good at playing the drums. Just please…”

“Hold on, hold on. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. You play the drums, Ako? You want to join Reader’s band, is that it?” Lisa asked

Damian who had finished his class and walked towards the entrance to see his sister and Lisa with some purple haired girl. He wonder if that girl is bothering his dear sister, maybe this would get him the chance to be close to her and probably get her to quit making music. As he make his way over to them to put a stop to whatever was going on here.

“Yeah! But she keeps saying no… So I thought real hard about how to convince her I’m for real, and…!” Ako said

“Well that too bad, if my sister said no then she said no, so how about you buzz off twerp.” Damian said, bursting into the conversation which Reader was a bit annoyed but slightly grateful for it.

“Wait! Let me finish explaining! Reader, I learned to drum along to every one of your songs! I practiced really, really hard…! So, umm… Please! Just give me one chance… just one chance to perform with you! And… if you still say no… I promise I’ll give up asking!”

“I keep telling you… this is not a game.”

“Come on, Reader. I’m sure you can play with her just this once, right? Right?” Lisa said

“Come on Lisa, stop trying to force her into letting that twerp play in the band beside she need to focus on other things than music. Isn’t that right, Reader?”

Reader glance at him and sighed, as she really doesn’t want to deal with him right now. While she noticed in Ako hands was music sheets that looked like it been through a lot, she wonder if she really was telling the truth.

“Those sheets… they’re all tattered and torn. Have you really been practicing with them that much…?” Lisa said, picking up one of the music sheets that fell on the ground and showed it to Reader. “Look at that, Reader. I mean, I know Ako from dance club. I know that when she puts her mind to something, she can get it done.”

Lisa doesn’t know if this was the right choice to help gather Reader members. But she never seen Ako so fired up about anything and if this can also make Damian stop bothering Reader then so be it.

Reader sighed, knowing that look Lisa is giving to her while crossing her arms, “Fine. Just one song.”

“What?! Reader you can’t be doing this, I mean come on she probably some mediocre drummer who only know the basic.” Damian said, upset that his elder sister is focusing on this stupid band and not on him…it wasn’t like he was jealous… of course not

“I get to judge if she’s have the skills to be in my band. Now don’t you have somewhere to be right now.” Reader said sternly

Damian grip his fists and headed towards the limousine where Alfred was waiting for him. “I’ll make sure to get her attention even if I have to destroy that band of hers.” He mumble

Lisa watched as Reader’s brother got inside the limousine and headed home, “wow, your brother have some issues.” She said

“It’s beginning to be a problem that for sure.” Reader said

Meanwhile Ako was excited that she got a chance to impress her idol with her drumming skills. “Thank you, Lisa! Thank you!”

“Hooray! Isn’t that great, Reader?” Lisa said cheerfully, while looking at her best friend. “Can I come watch you two?”

Reader was shock that Lisa wanted to come and looked away, feeling a little shy. “If you really want to. Why the sudden interest? You haven’t been to the studio in ages.”

“Why…? No real reason…” She stuttered, with a slight smile on her face. “Maybe I just wanna see you sing somewhere other than the live house for a chance? And… I’m kinda interested in meeting this Sayo girl, too~.”

“Fine. Do as you please.”

“Yay!” Lisa smiled even brighter, while deep down she does wonder why she was so interested in watching Reader sing with her band. She was always happy watching from the sidelines but for some reason she felt so intrigued by Reader’s new band

“Let’s get going, I’m sure Sayo is already at the live house.” Reader said, walking from the school with Lisa and Ako by her side. She hope she doesn’t regret having Ako audition for this band as she does need a professional.