#post high school!reader

[stsgsk]

"You've saved me as what?" Satoru repeats for what must have been the fifth time.

You sigh, speaking again, slowly. "Cotton Swab. I saved you as Cotton Swab"

Satoru gapes at you, mouth opening and closing without a single word coming out. In the end, he pouts and look away.

You frown. "Hey, come on. Don't be like that," You walk around him so you're directly in his line of view, his pink lips sticking out as he crosses his arms. You show him your phone, where his contact really is saved as 'Cotton Swab'. "It's a term of endearment. An affectionate nickname. I mean, would you rather just be saved as Satoru? How boring is that?"

Satoru glances at your screen once, then looks away, clearly unimpressed. "You didn't even give me an emoji."

"Alright, alright" you say, going ahead to edit his contact name. "I'll add some emojis. Which ones do you want?"

Before you could blink, satoru had taken your phone. He gives it back to you a few seconds later, leaving you chuckling at the long list of emojis he had put after his name. His name, you just realised, he changed to 'bf'.

You look up at him with a grin. "You gonna explain that?"

"Nope" he says back with a matching grin.

He didn't explain that you two were now matching, because he had long since had you saved as 'gf' with a whole bunch of emojis after too.

[jemiswumbo]

works in progress:

twitch streamer!luke x reader

- luke is a gamer that streams on twitch with his friends (percy, annabeth, etc etc). they don’t know he has a girlfriend as she wants to remain out of the public eye. during one stream luke acts a little off, making his friends and his chat suspicious (18+)

UPDATE: this is now complete! you can read it here

hockey player!luke x reader

these NHL playoffs got me feeling some type of way (go oilers go)

luke and reader go on a quest

reader’s godly parent sends her on a quest during the lightning thief. she takes luke with her (much to his dismay due to his previously failed quest And bc he’s already stolen the master bolt). fluff and angst and adventure and also maybe 18+ !!!!

[faetima]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 . .

. . maybe you and alhaitham were just never meant to be.

// tws ; blood ! possible alluding to reader’s death? ; gn reader ; modern & high school au, hanahaki au 

a/n: stan twice

unrequited.

you knew your love was of that nature, yet you couldn’t help but yearn for it.

for the delicate and feathery touch of the scribe’s love.

pining after him was no use, you knew. but, alas, what could you do?

he was the prestigious scribe, whilst you were a nobody, too meek to speak up to others, always uttering a small, “yes” to everything asked of you.

too shy to talk to people — terrified that you would embarrass yourself or leave a bad impression, or that you would wind up being the center of attention.

but, if you were so scared, why did you crave his attention?

every time you glanced around the classroom, fleeting gaze eventually landing on his soft grey and teal tufts of hair, and his turquoise eyes, flecked with specks of orange, you couldn’t help but wish as you stared at him, a stoic and indifferent expression plastered onto his stupidly pretty face —

wish that he could love you.

wish that he could hold you.

wish that he could look at you.

wish that he could know you.

but luck was never on your side, was it? for, you wholeheartedly expected your wishes not to be heard (and they weren’t), but lady luck had decided to make your life miserable — making the decision that having an obviously unreciprocated wasn’t enough.

and so she gave you hanahaki.

every day, as your gaze landed unconsciously on him, the vines curled around your lungs, gripping them.

flowers — fuchsia azaleas — tickled the back of your throat, being lodged there, making you cough a little.

and, alhaitham’s head turned towards the noise of coughing.

you froze, quickly collecting the petals in your hand, stuffing them into your pocket. your gaze instantly shot downwards, glued onto your notebook as your hand rapidly scribbled something down, pretending to be taking notes or writing or just doing something.

and, as you wrote, you felt monarchs fluttering in your stomach, heat rising up to your neck and face.

who knew that agony could be a little fun? 

—

but, as the days grew, your heart made it clear that it did not desire “fun”.

oh, no.

the only thing it wanted was alhaitham.

and that was made evident by the way you were now crouched on the bathroom floor, on your hands and knees, coughing out bouts of the hot pink flowers to remove the giant lump in your throat and the tickling of petals in the back of it.

the azaleas hit the previously porcelain white and neatly polished floor with a disgustingly wet noise, and, as you opened your eyes the tiniest bit, you laid your eyes on the flower.

a seemingly freshly bloomed azalea, coated with your own blood, slick with your own mucus. it laid there, some of the burgundy blood dripping down and pooling around it, coloring the dove-white floor with a splash of red.

you sat there, blankly staring at the barbie azaleas flopped on the floor. they were still covered in blood for your throat. they’re the hundredth flowers you’d coughed up today, and you had a strange mixture of apathy and horror coursing through you.

the lump in your throat felt like a knife, and the petals tickle and tickle, causing you to cough and wheeze. it was getting harder and harder to breathe. you were exhausted — from both coughing up the flowers and also from feeling this fucking unreciprocated love. but, of course, the hanahaki wouldn’t let you stop suffering until your love is returned.

if only alhaitham would look at you, talk to you, acknowledge your existence in any way.

if only you would talk to him. 

but, god, if it wasn’t hard to build up the courage.

he wouldn’t just come up and talk with you. why would you even wish that? why were you so stupid?

you hated yourself for it, wishing he would talk to you whilst not even interacting with him.

the truth was that the scribe intimidated you quite a bit, being stoic and indifferent, curt and formal to nearly anybody.

you tried to take a deep breath, but it hurt.

it hurt so, so much. 

the fuchsia azaleas covered the piece of floor in front of you almost entirely, a horrific reminder of the disease that's destroying you from the inside.

while you had been thinking, the stupidly pleasant smell of the azaleas — a dainty and delicate blend of floral honeysuckle notes— mixed with the tinged irony odor of blood, wafted upwards toward you, giving you a whiff of a smell that made you want to wretch.

you should’ve gotten the surgery when you could — now it was far too late, you were going to die for sure.

you were beyond the point of saving.

—

you stared blankly at the sheet of paper which sat before you, trying to concentrate on the lecture your teacher was giving, but your mind kept drifting off.

you kept glancing upwards, and every time you did so you saw the lightest shade of grey there could be, like a thrush’s delicate feathers, mixed with sage green, perfectly complementing the scribes clothes.

yeah, maybe you should keep your eyes on the paper. looking at him made you watch to rip your throat out and cough your lungs out.

—

you sat in your bed, curled in a small ball, fluffy white blanket bunched up around you.

the bright screen of your computer, extremely so, illuminated your face. 

you didn’t particularly want to write this essay, and what would be the point? the stupid azaleas would choke you to death eitehr way, using you as a human flower pot.

you closed the screen with a harsh thud!, drowning yourself in complete and utter darkness as the abnormally bright light emitted from the computer was sucked away.

you hastily put the computer away, curling into a tight ball on your bed.

you awaited death, hot pink azaleas tickling your throat and dreaming about the scribe, his perfectness almost alien, like the condition deteriorating you from the inside out, like a withering flower.

[addicted-to-dc]

Jekyll/Hyde Part 2 - Taskforce 141 x Reader

Tags for those who encouraged me to write this. Thank you!!! @greeniegreengreen @aeilani @poetslastdeath 

Link to Part 1

Content Warnings: Typical CoD violence, ptsd, reader is going to be unhinged (even more so in the next chapters).

The computer does all the work for you nowadays. Honestly, you expected this to be your time to think things over. ‘Meditate’ as Laswell calls it. Rumination sits better on your tongue. How in the world can you ruminate in conditions like these? The overhead lights are buzzing, a high-pitched constant ringing that’s giving you a migraine. It feels like an ice pick was shoved through your eye socket, the cold metal turning warm as it disturbs thousands of nerves.

The seclusion you needed has fucking left the building, leaving you alone with a team of walking dead men. Laswell didn’t tell them why you had so many deaths. One would assume that the common denominator (i.e. YOU) are the reason why families mourn their loved ones. With every step you take you can hear the jingle of all those tags, so many souls gone because you couldn’t stop digging for the truth.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to drag yourself out of your exhaustion. Your efforts only reward you with a sharp pain in your skull. Checking the time, you internally groan. Less than an hour until your dogs are here. Fuck, you miss them.

There’s a flick of a lighter, the scent of leather and wood assaulting your nose. Then tobacco invades your senses. “What’s on your mind?”

Captain Price, the man who started it all. He’s a survivor. He might stand a chance at what’s coming next. It’s been a while since you’ve interacted with a man this intense. He’s a smart one. The cigar erases the mustiness of the room. Smells like home. You can feel your body relax, albeit slightly. Maybe you just need a smoke.

“The only family I have left,” you reply, yanking out your cigarettes. Your only photo lies folded in the nearly empty pack. You flick it to Price, your aim true as it rolls to the edge of the table. “Three dogs. Sir, Bear, and Ruse.”

Ghost shifts slightly in his chair, dark eyes on the photo as soon as Price uncrumples it. “Cerberus?”

You can see recognition flash in Price’s eyes. In all of theirs. At least they don’t try to hide it. Sunshine leans forward, his eyes reevaluating you. “You’re The Huntress.”

It’s not a question. He knows. They all do. Price hands the photo to Mr. Mohawk. You shake your head, “I haven’t been called that in a long time.”

“Fuckin’ unstoppable is what you should be called,” Mr. Mohawk chuckles, looking up from the photo. “I’ve seen yer work. Thorough, precise, efficient, and batshit crazy.”

“They say you’re a sniper hunter,” Ghost states, eyes blazing with intrigue. “That true?”

You nod, your index finger running over the scar on your chin. Mr. Mohawk’s bright ass blue eyes bore into your own. “Why the name change?”

Your muscles tense, feeling the weight of hundreds of hands pulling you down, down, down… Broken nails tear at your flesh, opening old wounds that never fully healed right. The screams ring in your ears, curses that taint your very soul to this day. “A story for another day.”

“Is this your original taskforce?” Price asks, pulling your attention away from his sergeant.

“Yes, it is,” you reply, lighting up your last cigarette. “Picked every single one of them myself. Two Polish battering rams, Maryna and Urszula Kowalski. They were always at each other’s throats, but they were the devil and angel on my shoulder.”

You take a long drag. They were the first ones to die.

The frequent migraines and metal plate in your skull are because of them, cracking your skull open before you could even walk off the transport. Their deaths were too quick, but watching the Semtex burst in the sisters’ faces was cathartic. Liars always fail to earn mercy from you. Traitorous ones at least. You exhale, releasing the tension. They don’t deserve to weigh down your conscience.

“August Lindemann, a German tech genius. Spoiled us with all the newest gadgets on the field.” You chuckle, dark eyes meeting Price’s. “I always said they’d make us lose our edge.”

For all the brains he had, they didn’t look so special splattered across the wall. You fought through the entire base to get to him. Cowering like the leach he was until he was the only one left. It didn’t even take cutting off his precious fingers to find out who organized all of this: General Sheperd. You know this leads deeper into the abyss, merely scratching the surface of this conspiracy.

“The last one is American; best shot I’ve ever seen and an even better medic. Dane Reid was a serious man, but he always kept everyone together.”

His ring lies against your chest, right next to yours. You scratch your right ear, digging your nails into what’s left of your upper cartilage. He was the best shot, but your dogs were loyal to no one except you. Even your husband. Using yourself as a decoy was risky, but Sir, Bear, and Ruse tearing him apart made the sacrifice worth it. And the bullet you put into his heart? Even more so.

You can’t wait to see them again.

“You and the dogs are the only ones left?” Sunshine asks, gently taking the photo from Price. “How did Laswell find you?”

“Wandering the Russian forest with stolen data,” you reply, picking at your broken nail. “She found me and the dogs months later.”

“An’ yer team?” Mr. Mohawk questions. “Wha’ about them?”

“I killed them all,” you answer, putting out the cig. You’ll save it for later, death usually ruins the taste. “They tried to sabotage the op. I only got one name when all of it was said and done, and you want to know who it was?”

You scan over every single one of them. The truth always hurts to tell, but you need them to live. You can’t lose anymore, not when Laswell holds these men to the highest regard. What did she say to them? Oh, yes, you need a team to survive with you. There’s too much death permeating the air. The smell of burnt flesh burns your nose.

“General Herschel Sheperd,” you snarl, the rage of Hyde breaking past Jekyll’s walls. “Laswell says you’re looking for him, and I want my pound of flesh.”

You’re sure they can see the insanity in your eyes, the ferality that consumed you in the forests of Russia and nestled its way into your very soul. Split into two beings, one desperate for peace and the other salivating for revenge. You’re not a Captain anymore. You’re nothing. Just a revenant walking amongst the living until your duty is fulfilled. Peace was never an option for you in life, only in death. You accepted that the day you lost your team, your only family. One gaze bears the most weight.

Your eyes catch Ghost’s. Dark eyes penetrate your soul, reading the scripture of your heart. Loyalty broken, trusted allies and friends betraying old bonds. Killing them. Broken, a living being inhabited by the scraps of its own psyche. Two peas in a fucked-up pod. Your phone vibrates on the table, one singular message popping up on your screen: They’re here.

“Thank fuck,” you mumble, pocketing your phone. “They’re here.” You’re itching to leave, to run to the last semblance of family you have.

Clearly, you’re too easy to read. Price stands, the others following suit. “Let’s go meet them then.”

Sunshine barely has the door open when you slip through, quickly maneuvering through the shitty corporate layout of the building until you reach the side lot. You can see them. Tears threaten to cloud your vision as you see Sir chase Ruse around the grass. Bear lays in the shade. Laswell notices your approach, giving you a small nod. You whistle loudly, their playtime immediately put on halt. It takes a second for the noise to bounce around their brains, immediately whining once it finally clicked. Sir, the eldest German Sheperd, is the first one to make it to you, whining and jumping in your arms. His love is always overwhelming, but it’s welcome.

Sir manages to hold onto your shoulders, forcing you to catch him to regain your balance. Only for Ruse, the younger Shepherd, to knock you to the ground. It startles a laugh out of you, a smile following soon after. God, it’s been too long since you’ve seen them. Bear in all her glory runs up and sits at your feet. Your smart girl. A Rottweiler mix, probably shepherd, but her fur pattern always draws you in. You coo, using whatever body part you can to pet all three of them. “Yeah, I missed you, too.”

You sneak them treats, whispering sweet nothings to each of them as you try to make up for lost time. Six months away from them has been torture. Then again, you thought you’d never see them again. Every op feels like the last.

“Forgive them, it’s been half a year since we’ve seen each other,” you turn to the group, sputtering when Ruse licks into your mouth. “CERBERUS!”

They fall in line perfectly, ears perked and waiting for orders. A hand pops into view, and you take it. Sunshine pulls you up, chuckling at the slobber left behind. He tilts his head, eyes catching something on your chest.

Frowning, you look down. Your rings are exposed. Tearing off the necklace, you shove it into your pocket. You’re allowed to have your secrets.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

[chalamet-hl]

No one's ever had me, not like you... ✨❤️‍🔥

[pawnshopbleus]

These Are the Days Two - And the Rest is History

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School AU

For the summary, warnings, and more please visit here

Previous Chapter

The softball field at Lakeview is - to put it nicely, a piece of shit. The field is uneven, the grass almost never gets cut, and the bleachers have millions of spiders living in them. It’s not like the school doesn’t have the budget for it. They do but the pitch still looks like this because Principal Orangebottom could care less about girls sports even though they win more than the boys. 

The horrible conditions of the softball field don’t keep them from winning. In fact, it motivates the girls to win even more. Hours and hours of practicing on a field that can be only described as hell teaches them teamwork. 

Having a team that can overcome anything is what makes Abby’s job easy. No matter what, she can always count on her girls to get her through anything. Right now, Ellie was getting Abby through a particularly grueling session in the gym.

“So, about the new girl. She seems nice. A little quiet but nice,” Ellie said as she handed Abby her bottle of water. 

Abby was intrigued by what she saw in you. She remembers when she first saw you, your figure blurred by the stainless glass window in your bedroom. In the blink of an eye you were gone, but not from her memory. The U-Haul in your driveway gave her all the information she needed. You were new to town and she hoped that you would go to Lakeview. It’s always been a fantasy of hers to become friends with someone who didn’t know who she was, the daughter of Bellevue’s esteemed surgeon, Jerry Anderson, and the girlfriend of all-American football player, Owen Moore. She just wanted someone to treat her like a normal human being rather than just some accessory. 

And when she first spoke to you she knew her prayers were answered. 

“Yeah. I sit next to her in history. She's pretty smart,” Abby nodded along. 

“Do you think she’s gay?”

That stops Abby in her tracks. The not-so-simple question that always leaves her perplexed. What does it mean to “be gay?” one might ask. Abby asked herself that question multiple times. Not because she is gay but simply because she'd like to understand it more. 

Abby looks at Ellie, confused. “Number one, It’s none of my business. Number two, why does it matter? And number three, I’ve only known that girl for two weeks. It’s not like she’s gonna tell me something that huge in such little time.” 

Ellie shrugs and grabs her gym bag. “Just curious.”

“You know what they say about that cat.”

“What cat?”

Abby rolls her eyes and gets off the weight bench. “Never mind.”

In the library, you’re hunched over a math assignment. The thinly lined paper is filled with tiny holes in obscure spots from your constant erasing. No matter how hard you try to study, math just isn’t your strong suit. You’ve always been jealous of people who simply have a knack for it but their constant bragging about how “easy” math is gets on your nerves. 

Jesse laughs a little too loud which earns him a glare from the librarian and her assistant. His chortle breaks you out of your math day blues. He turns his phone around to show Dina a video and she just shakes her head. 

“Why are you on Youtube shorts? The only person I know that willingly watches YouTube shorts is my four-year-old cousin and he can barely read.”

“That’s because he’s four!” Jesse yells. The realization of his mistake is automatically recognized as he turns around and apologizes to the librarian. She simply glares at him and returns to her computer.

“You two fight like an old married couple.”

“We get that a lot. Sadly,” Jesse nods.

Dina scoff, “Sadly? As if you’d ever be lucky enough to get with this.”

Ellie swaggers into the library with Abby by her side. The evidence of their workout being their glistening skin and their athletic clothes clinging to their bodies. 

Ellie sits down in Dina’s lap and kisses her on the cheek. Dina holds her nose and tells Ellie that she needs to shower. Abby smiles at the exchange, happy that her best friends were lucky to find each other. What Dina and Ellie had could never be replicated. 

The thought of Owen and her becoming an IT couple scared her. There’s too much responsibility when it comes to being the couple everyone looks up to. You have to hold hands all the time, make out in the hallways, be with each other all the time. That honestly sounded like a chore that Abby wasn’t willing to do.

“I’m having a little get together at my house this Saturday if you guys would like to come. It’s a little beginning-of-the-year celebration. There’s gonna be booze, chicks, weed, video games, pizza, and salad if you’re into that vegan stuff,” Ellie declared. 

Dina looks at you, “When Ellie says ‘little get together’ that means that the entire school is gonna be there.” 

You gulp. You’ve been to parties before but those parties had max twenty people. This party sounded like it was going to be one of those parties you only see in movies. 

“I’ll be there,” you say. 

It would be good for you to get out of the house. Staying home and doing nothing was starting to kill your social skills so some time partying like a normal teenager would be good.

As Dina, Ellie, and Jesse debate on whether or not Jesse could jump from Ellie’s roof and into her pool, Abby leans in and whispers in your ear, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’ll make up an excuse for you if you’d like.” 

“No, thanks. I really should get out of the house more. The silence is killing me.”

“Tell me about it. My dad’s at work all the time so when I come home it’s just me and Alice, my dog.”

Abby doesn’t seem like the type of person whose parents would neglect her. She’s so kind and vibrant, the complete opposite of you. Maybe she had the type of parent that tried their hardest to stay present while still working hard shifts. Or maybe she had parents like yours. You hoped that she didn’t. 

Ellie gets off of Dina’s lap and grabs her duffle bag. She taps Abby's shoulder who reluctantly gets up from the table. “Let’s go, Abs. We gotta talk to the coach before we go to our next class.” The two of them wave goodbye before exiting the library. 

Your eyes linger on Abby for a little longer than they should. To an outsider it would look weird but you knew your intentions were innocent. The mysterious aura that she carries makes you want to just look inside her brain and learn everything that there is to know about her. 

In history, Mr. Miller makes his dramatic entrance and sits down at his desk in the front of the room. His glasses sit at the tip of his nose. He looks at the class over his circular framed glasses making him look like a cheap version of Harry Potter. 

He takes out another stack of papers from his messenger bag and starts handing them out. Students sigh or laugh with glee as they see their recent test scores. Mr. Miller quizzed all of you on what you’ve learned from previous history classes. It didn’t really matter grade wise but some people still took it seriously, like you. 

Mr. Miller reaches your desk and hands Abby her test first. Then he slides your test face down across your table. Your heart drops. In previous classes, teachers only did this if you did horrible on the test. You reach to flip the test over with shaky hands. Your fingers feel the paper under their tips and with a deep breath, you flip the test over. A perfect score and a note that says ‘see me after class’ are written on the front of it.

You nearly collapse with relief as Mr. Miller leaves your table with a smirk on his face. He must get a kick on almost giving his students a heart attack. 

You glance over at Abby and see her glaring at her paper before shoving it in her backpack. Her right hand keeps clenching and unclenching, almost as if she had an invisible stress ball in her palm. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, hand almost going to touch her shoulder but she jerks it away. Your hand makes its way back to your side, embarrassment taking over. 

“Fine,” she says. 

After class, Mr. Miller waits for all the students to exit the classroom minus you and Abby, that is. You look at her in your peripheral vision. She’s manspreading in her chair, her leg is bouncing up and down, and her hand is still clenching and unclenching. You wish you could help her but she seems like she just wants to be left alone right now. 

“Now, I asked the two of you to stay behind because both of you were on both sides of the spectrum when it came to the test.” 

Mr. Miller says your name in a way that can only be described as proud, “She got a perfect one-hundred while you, Abby, got a ten. It would be good if you were going for gold, but unfortunately, I want you to pass my class and stay on the softball team. So, I propose the idea that you two get together once a week and study.” 

He claps his hands together, “So, what do you think?”

You look at Abby for her response but she just stares at the space in front of her. 

“Fine,” she grunts. 

“I accept,” you say. 

You’re a little hurt that Abby isn’t more excited about this. Granted, she got a ten on a test but she has the opportunity to better her grades. If this were you, you would be jumping up and down and kissing the person who was so willing to help you…Okay, maybe that was a little much, but still. You’re going out of your way to do this for her so more than a grunt would be nice.

Mr. Miller smiles. “Great then. I look forward to seeing how both of you do on our next test.”

Abby rushes out of the classroom, leaving her pencil behind. You snatch the pencil and run it to her, your backpack bouncing up and down as you run down the hallway. 

“Abby, wait up.”

She slows down but doesn’t stop. Your frantic running turns into more of a fast walk as you catch up with her. 

“You left your pencil.” 

You hand her the simple number two pencil. She thanks you and continues to walk. 

“So, umm, when do you want to start?” you ask, hoping that your question doesn’t strike a nerve with her. “Monday,” Abby replies. 

You nod, already planning out how you’re going to tutor Abby and still make it on time for your - that's right. You have absolutely nothing else to do. This is going to be your life for however long Abby needs you.

You watch as Abby’s baby blue ford pickup truck makes its way out of the empty parking lot. You wave goodbye as the truck skirts off. 

Until Monday, Anderson, you think to yourself, your hand still waving to the empty abyss that is the Lakeview student parking lot.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @soupycloud

Thank you all so much for reading!

[sssatorus]

Satoru Gojo had never dated a fellow sorcerer. In fact, it was almost like an unwritten rule of his not to. It would be too complicated, too annoying. Too much work. On the occasion he did go out with a girl, it was always someone random, someone normal that he’d run into whilst out and about in the city with Suguru. It didn’t happen often. Suguru always says it’s because he’s too obnoxious and girls like a guy who acts like a gentleman rather than a ‘petulant man-child’ (Suguru’s words). This usually earns Suguru a forehead flick.

One time, when a girl had stomped away after one of Satoru’s stupid comments, Suguru had smirked, a lovely blonde-haired girl holding onto his arm, absentmindedly playing on her phone. He leaned over to Satoru’s ear and tauntingly whispered, “I can give you a few pointers if you need it.” This earned Suguru another forehead flick.

Satoru had briefly considered it, though he’d never admit it. Asking for pointers, that is. Suguru seemed to be having a much better time with girls than he usually was, which didn’t make sense because Satoru was basically a god (that had to count for something, right?) but whatever.

So yeah, Gojo didn’t date other sorcerers, but as he watched you walk down the stairs, the way hair bounce with every step, your uniform skirt swayed against your thighs - he changed his mind right then and there.

[rigelmejo]

Really basic study tips. As in, you have no idea where to start, or you've been floundering for X period of time not making progress.

Total beginner?

Go to a search engine site. Whatever one you want Google.com, duckduckgo.com, or a searx.space site will work (I like search.hbubli.cc a lot). I think a non-google search engine will give you less ads and more specific results though so keep that in mind.

As a total beginner, search for some articles and advice to help you start planning HOW you are going to study a language. Search things like "how to learn X" where X is the language, "how i learned X," "guide to learn X." Ignore the product endorsement pages as best you can, you're looking for personal blogs and posts on learner forums like chinese-forums.com and forum.language-learners.org. After reading a few of these, come up with a list of general things you need to learn. This list will generally be: to read, to listen, to write, to speak. The articles/advice you find will likely mention Specific Study Activities people did to learn each of those skills - write them down! You might not do all those study activities yourself. But its good to know what possible study activities will help build each of the 4 skills.

Now get more specific. Think about your long term goals for this language. Be as SPECIFIC as possible. Things like "I want to pass the B2 exam in French" (and knowing what CEFR levels are), or "I want to watch History 3 Trapped in chinese with chinese subtitles" or "I want to read Mo Dao Zu Shi in chinese" or "I want to play Final Fantasy 16 in japanese" or "I want to make friends with spanish speakers and be able to talk about my hobbies in depth, and understand their comments on that subject and be able to ask what they mean if I get confused." Truly be as specific as possible. Ideally make more than one long term goal like this. And then specify EVEN MORE. So you want to "pass the B2 exam in French" - why? What real world application will you use those skills for. A possible answer: to work in a French office job in engineering. Great! Now you know very specifically what to look up for what you Need to actually study: you need to look up business appropriate writing examples, grammar for emails, engineering technical vocabulary, IN addition to everything required on the B2 exam. Your goal is to read mdzs in chinese? Lets get more specific: how many unique words are in mdzs (maybe you want to study ALL of them), how much do you wish to understand? 100% or is just understanding the main idea, or main idea and some details, good enough? Do you want to learn by Doing (reading and looking up things you don't know) or by studying ahead of time first (like studying vocabulary lists). Im getting into the weeds.

My point is: once you have a Very Specific Long Term Goal you can look up how to study to accomplish that very specific goal. If you want to get a B2 certificate there's courses and textbooks and classes and free materials that match 100% the material on the B2 test, so you can prioritize studying those materials. If your goal is to READ novels, you'll likely be looking for "how to read X" advice articles and then studying based on that advice (which is often "learn a few thousand frequent words, study a grammar resource, use graded reader material at your reading level, extensively and intensively read, look up unknown words either constantly or occasionally as desired when reading new material, and continue picking more difficult material with new unknown words"). Whatever your specific goal, you will go to a search engine and look up how people have accomplished THAT specific goal. Those study activities they did will be things you can do that you know worked for someone. If you get lucky, someone might suggest ALL the resources and study activities you need to accomplish your specific goal. Or they will know of a textbook/course/site that provides everything you need so you can just go do it. I'll use a reading goal example because its a specific goal i've had. I'd have the goal "read X book in chinese" so I'd look up "how to read chinese" "how to learn to read chinese novels" "how i read chinese webnovels" and similar search terms. I found suggestions like these on articles I found written by people who managed to learn to read chinese webnovels: Ben Whatley's strategy had been learn 2000 common words on memrise (he made a deck and shared it), read a characters guide (he linked the article he read), use graded readers (he linked Mandarin Companion), use Pleco app and read inside it (he linked Pleco) and in 6 months he was reading novels using Pleco for unknown words. I copied most of what he did, and did some of my own other study activities for theother 3 listening speaking writing skills. And in 6 months I was also reading webnovels in Pleco. Another article was by Readibu app creator, who read webnovels in chinese just looking up TONS of words till they learned (real brute force method). But it worked! They learned. So copying them by using Readibu app ans brute force reading MANY novels would work. Another good article is on HeavenlyPath.notion.site, they have articles on specifically what materials to study to learn to read - their article suggestions are similar to the process I went through in studying and Im confident if you follow their advice you'll be reading chinese in 1 year or less. (I saw one person who was reading webnovels within 3 months of following the Heavenly Path's guide plan). LOOK UP your specific long term goal, and write down specific activities people did to learn how to do that long term goal. Ideally: you will have some

SHORT TERM GOALS: you will not accomplish your long term language goal for 1 year or more. Probably not for many years. So make some short and medium term goals to guide you through studying and keep you on track. These can be any goals you want, that are stepping stones to the specific long term goals you set. So for the "read mdzs in chinese" long term goal, short and medium term goals might be the following: short term: learn 10 common words a week (through SRS like anki or a vocabulary list), study 100 common hanzi this month (using a book reference or SRS or a site), read 1 chapter of a grammar guide a week (a site or textbook or reference book), medium term: read a graded reader with 100 unique words once I have studied 300 words (like Mandarin Companion books or Pleco graded readers for sale), read a 500 unique word graded reader once I have studied 600 words, read 秃秃大王 and look up words I don't know once I have studied 1500 words (read in Pleco or Readibu or using any click-translator tool or translator/dictionary app), read another chinese novel with 1500 unique words, read a 30,000 word chinese 2 hours a day until I finish it, read another 30,000 word novel and see if I can finish it in less time, read a 60,000 word novel, read a 120,000 word novel, read a novel extensively without looking any words up and practice reading skills of relying on context clues (pick a novel with lower unique word count), read a novel a little above your reading level (a 2000 unique word count if say you only know 1700 words), go to a reading difficulty list and pick some novels easier than mdzs to read but harder than novels you've already read (Readibu ranks novels by HSK level, Heavenly Path ranks novel difficulty, if you search online you'll find other reading difficulty lists and sites). Those shorter term goals will give you things to work for this week, this month, this year. An example of study goals and activities might be: study all vocabulary, hanzi, grammar in 1 textbook chapter a week (lets say 20 new words/10-20 new hanzi,1-5 new grammar points - or alternatively you have 3 SRS anki decks for vocab, hanzi, grammar) along with read and look up unknown key words for 30 minutes a day (at first you may read graded readers then move onto novels). Those are short term goals you can ensure you meet weekly, and they also contribute to being able to read better gradually each month until you hit long term goals.

If you are very bad at making your own schedule and study plans: look for a good premade study material and just follow it. A good study material will: teach reading, writing, speaking, and listening skills, all the way to intermediate level. You may need to find multiple premade resources, such as 1 resource for writing/reading (many textbooks that teach 2000+ words and basic grammar will suffice) and 1 for speaking/listening (perhaps a good podcast, glossika, a tutor). Ideally formal classes will teach all 4 skills to intermediate level if you take 4 semesters of classes as an adult (beginner 1, beginner 2, intermediate 1, intermediate 2). Especially if the classes teach in accordance with trying to match you to expected defined language level skills (so formal classes that have syllabus goals that align with HSK, CEFR, or national standards of X level of fluency). So formal classes are an option. The same tips as above apply: make short term goals do do X a week, like study 30 minutes to 2 hours a day, to learn 10 new words a week, to get through X chapters a month, to practice speaking/reading/writing/reading oriented activities to some degree.

My short advice for picking a premade resource if totally lost: pick a starting material that covers 2000 words, basic grammar, and has dialogues if you don't know where to start. That will be enough to cover roughly beginner level language skills. I suggest you study by: studying the vocabulary and grammar of each chapter, listen to the dialogue with and without translation repeatedly until you understand it (listening skills), read the dialogue with and without translation (reading skills), write out example sentences using the new vocabulary and grammar (writing skills, the textbook exercises usually ask you to do this), speak your example sentences out loud (speaking practice), record yourself saying the dialogue and compare it to the dialogue audio - repeat this exercise until you sound similar in pronunciation to dialogue (speaking exercise - shadowing). Most decent textbooks will allow you to come up with similar activities to those listed above, to study some writing reading speaking listening. I like the Teach Yourself books as an example of the most basic version of what you need. Many languages have much better specific textbooks of that language. But if you're totally lost, get a Teach Yourself book and audio free from a library or for 10 dollars (or ANY equivalent book that teaches at least 2000 words and grammar) and go through it. If you buy a language specific textbook: keep working through the series until you've learned 2000 words and covered all basic grammar. For example Genk 1 and 2 cover 1700 words so you would want to work all the way through Genki 2 and ger near 2000 words before branching off to a textbook for intermediate students, or into native speaker materials. (Another example is I found a chinese textbook once that only taught 200 words... as a beginner you would not find that book as useful as one with more vocabulary)

Another adequate premade resource option: if you lile SRS tools like anki, look up premade decks that teach what you need to learn as a beginner. For Japanese you might look up "common words japanese anki deck" (Japanese core deck with 2k or more words is likely an option you'll see), "japanese grammar anki deck" (Tae Kin grammar deck is an option that covers common grammar), "JLPT kanji deck" or "kanji anki deck" or "kanji with mnemonics anki deck" (to study kanji). Ideally you study vocabulary, vocabulary, kanji, and ideally some of these anki decks will have audio and sentence examples for reading practice. Like with a textbook, you would attempt to do exercises which cover reading writing speaking listening. For reading and writing you may read sentences on anki cards, and write or type example sentences in a journal with new words you study and new grammar points. For listening you will play the sentence audio of a card with eyes closed until you hear the words clearly and recognize them, and for speaking you'll speak out the sentences and compare what you say to the audio on the card.

Keep in mind your specific long term goals! If your goal is speak to friend about hobby, you may follow a textbook and still need to ALSO make yourself practice talking weekly (on a language exchange app, with a tutor, with yourself, shadowing dialogues, looking up specific words you wish to discuss). If your goal is to read novels, you will likely need to seek out graded readers OUTSIDE your textbook and practice reading gradually harder material weekly. If your goal is listening to audio dramas, you will want an outside podcast resource likely starting with a Learner Podcast (chinese101, slow chinese, comprehensible chinese youtube channel) then move into graded reader audiobooks, then listen to audio dramas with transcripts, then just listen and look words up.

Once you hit lower intermediate: I'm defining that here as roughly you have studied 2000+ words, are familiar with basic grammar and comfortable looking up more specialized grammar information, and if you used a premade material then you have finished the beginner level material. If you desire to stay on a premade route then pick new resources made for intermediate learners. Do not dwell in the beginner material forever once you've studied it, continue to challenge yourself and learn new things regularly. (No matter what, continue to learn new things regularly, if you do that then every few hundred hours of study you WILL make significant progress toward your goals). Once you have hit intermediate it is also time to start adding activities that work toward your Very Specific Long Term goals now if you didn't already start. If you want to watch shows one day, this is when you start TRYING and get an idea of how much you understand versus how much you need to learn and WHAT you need to learn to do your goal well. If you want to read novels then start graded readers NOW if you havent already and progress to more difficult reading eventually into reading novels for native speakers. If you want to talk to people, start chatting regularly. If you want to take a B2 test, start studying language test specific study materials, practice doing the tasks you must be able to do to pass the test (so you can see what you need to learn and gauge progress over time), take practice tests. Intermediate level is when SOME stuff for native speakers will be at least understandable enough you can follow the main idea. Or at least, if you look up some key words you'll be able to grasp the main idea. Start engaging with stuff in the language now. For several reasons. 1. You need to practice Understanding all the basics you studied. Just because you studied it doesnt mean you can understand it immediately yet, you have to practice being in situations that require you to understand what you studied. 2. You also need to gauge where you are versus where you want to be, in order to set new short term goals. Once you do things in the language, you will see what specifically you need to study more. 3. By doing the activity you wish to do, you will get better at doing it. This is also a good time to mention that: if you wish to get better at speaking or writing now is the time to practice more. Just like listening and reading, you'll have to Do it more to improve.

The leap from using materials for beginners to materials for intermediate learners is harsh. It just is. The first 3 to 6 months you may feel drained, like you didn't learn much after all, annoyed its so much harder than the beginner material catered usually specifically to a learner's language level. Push through. I suggest goals like "listen to french 30 minutes a day" or "read 1 japanese news article a day" or "chat with someone for 1 hour total a week" or "watch 20 minutes of a show a day" or "write 1 page a day" and look up words you dont know but need to understand something or communicate to someone. Do X for X time period or X length of a chapter/episode type goals may be easiest to stick to during this period. Gradually, the time spent doing activities will add up and it will suddenly feel EASIER. Usually around the time you start understanding quicker and recalling quicker what you studied as a beginner. Then it keeps improving, as you gradually learn more and more. At first, picking the easiest content for your study activity will make the transition to intermediate stuff slightly less drastic. Easier content includes: conversations on daily life that only gradually add more specific topics (so you can lean on the beginner daily life function vocabulary), podcasts for learners entirely in target language and podcasts with transcripts, novels with low unique word counts (ideally 2000 unique words or less until your vocabulary gets bigger), shows you've watched before in a language you know (so you can guess more unknown words and follow the plot even when you don't understand the target language words), video game lets plays (ideally with captions) of video games you've played before, playing video games you already have played before and know the story for, reading summaries before starting new shows or books so you know what the general story is, reading books that have translations to a language you know (so you can read the translation then original or vice versa for additional context). Using any tools available (dictionary apps, translation apps like Pleco and Google Translate and click-translate web browser tools, Edge Read Aloud tool, reader apps like Kindle and Readibu, apps like Netflix dual subitles stuff).

Last mention: check in with your goals every so often. You might check in every 3 months, and say you notice you never manage to study daily (if that was your short term goal). That could be a sign it might be better to change your study schedule to study a couple hours on the days your life schedule is less busy, and skip study on busy days. Or it may be a sign the study activity you're trying to do daily is Very Hard for you to stick to, and maybe you should switch to a different study activity. (Example would be: I can't do SRS flashcards consistently, so when I got tired of SRS anki after a few months as a beginner, I switched to reading graded readers daily to learn new vocabulary then reading novels and looking up words. Another example: I love Listening Reading Method but could never do it as it was designed, so after a month of only doing 15 hours of it instead of the 100 hours the method intended at minimum in that time, I decided to modify that study activity into something I could get myself to do daily and enjoy more).

And, of course, its okay if what works for one person doesn't work for you. Everyone's different. As long as you are regularly studying some new things, and practicing understanding things you've studied before, you will make progress as the study hours add up. It may take hundreds of hours to see significant progress, but you Will see some progress every few hundreds of hours of study. I made the quick start suggestions for beginners above, because I have seen some people (including me) get lost at the start with no idea what a good resource looks like and no idea what to study, or how to determine goals and progress on those goals.

[deeranon]

Dangers and Dragons | BNHA/MHA X animalistic!reader

Summary: not all quirks are blessings. Especially when they make you want to attack your friends and tear your enemies to literal shreds. Yet, where did it all start?

Chapter 1 | The domino effect

Dragons: mythical creatures of legend.

In literature, dragons are often depicted as mindless beasts bent on destruction and killing, or merely as glorified mounts for humans. It's rare to find works of fiction that portray dragons as intelligent creatures.

This, however, was the real world—a world divided between those with quirks and the quirkless. To you, dragons were everything, because you were a dragon. Or rather, in the eyes of non-dragon people, you were someone who could transform into a dragon. You didn't fault them for this distinction. In an era where quirks could manifest in countless ways, it was challenging to discern where "person" ended and "quirk" began.

Not to you though.

You were different. You knew it. They didn’t.

They were lucky. You didn’t know if you were.

After all, to turn into something imaginary you first had to take pieces of things that already existed and then mold them into what was once pure imagination until it was something all its own.

Whenever you transformed, the world changed. Your thoughts, your perceptions—all of it was different. Especially words. They always meant more than one thing because they just could.

Your mother wasn’t just your mother, she was all of these smells mixed together that made her unique. She was motherloveunderstandinghomesafety.

And your father wasn’t just your father, he was lovingfatherhomeprotection. He smelled like dreams.

And you were you. You were one with the air and the forest was yoursyoursyours and your friends were funnylovingstronggood and you should protectkeepsafesave.

When you were young, you saw nothing wrong with the way you thought or how sometimes the voles in the field looked appetizing and it would just be so easy to dig them out and bite into their throats until they went limp.

That is, until you almost lost yourself to the beast at the age of seven and nearly tore a robber’s arm off because he smelled of dangerironbadhurtothers and he was not allowed to trespass on what was yoursyoursyours.

The man dressed in black let out a blood-curdling scream, his fiery red eyes widening with such intense fear that his pupils contracted to mere pinpoints. His right arm, now slick with a vibrant crimson coating, was clutched tightly against his chest. Meanwhile, his other hand frantically scrabbled across the wooden floorboards, desperately seeking the broken knife that lay just out of reach. The rich, dark liquid pooled around him, seeping into the porous wood grain with an almost eager intensity.

You stood there, your draconic features set in a perplexed pout. Your muzzle, now stained a deep, dark burgundy, glistened in the dim light. The concept of his terror eluded you completely. After all, in your mind, he was unequivocally the antagonist - the villain of this scenario.

Your young mind conjured images from the television shows you'd watched. Villains were supposed to be larger than life characters, cackling maniacally as they boasted about their latest nefarious schemes. They were meant to be relentless in their pursuit of evil, determined to the very end. They certainly weren't supposed to cower and whimper like the pathetic human before you. In your limited understanding, villains simply did not experience fear.

Curiosity piqued, you took a deliberate step forward. Your razor-sharp claws sank into the viscous pool of blood with a squelch. The sound seemed to trigger something primal in the man, for he let out an even louder scream, his entire body now wracked with violent tremors.

Suddenly, the tense silence was shattered by the crisp sound of breaking porcelain. In a last-ditch effort of self-preservation, the burglar had seized your father's prized vase and hurled it in your direction. The delicate object smashed against the floor, scattering shards across the room as the man desperately pushed himself further against the living room wall. A trail of crimson followed his movements, painting a macabre path across the floor.

Undeterred, you continued your approach. In your childlike innocence, you chastised him for potentially staining the rug your mother had so recently cleaned. You even expressed concern about your father's reaction to the broken vase upon their return from their dinner date, which you expected at any moment.

"G-G-GET A-W-WAY! S-STAY BACK!" The red-eyed man's voice rose to a feverish pitch, the volume causing you to wince in discomfort. The disconnect between your perception and reality widened further. In your mind, you were simply engaging in conversation. The fact that your words emerged as menacing growls and snarls completely escaped your young, dragon-shaped consciousness.

To him, you weren’t speaking Japanese. All the man could hear was your angry growls and snarls as you encroached on him like a leopard stalking it’s prey. His eyes darted around frantically, searching for an escape.

The washing room had a door connected to the outside…if he could get past you then he would make it out of here with his life!

You took another step forward, blood squelching underneath you as you prowled towards him.

All of the man’s thoughts of escape died immediately. The you were no bigger than a Doberman, yet had teeth and claws sharper than knives. Also, you had wings. Wings. He couldn’t outrun a monster with wings!

The man waved the broken knife around your face, making you lean back. Mama always said that knives were dangerous and not to be played with.

But you were a dragon. Knives could not hurt you. Let’s end this before mothersafetylove and fatherprotectionhome get back.

Yes. That was a good idea! Beat the villain up just like the heroes on TV! That will teach him not to mess with your family!

Just like the heroes on TV. Don’t let him get away.

You wouldn’t let him get away! This robber was going down!

Once and for all.

You crouched low to the blood soaked floor, tail swaying behind you as you prepared to jump. You’d leap onto the man’s head and knock him unconscious in one fell swoop!

More than unconscious.

You’d be a hero!

You would always be a dragon.

You would always protect what is only yoursyoursyours.

No matter what it takes.

The man looked at you, teary eyes wide with a fear ingrained in all living beings: the knowledge that death was near. The brownish-black hair peeking out of his mask was sticky with dried blood. “I-I-I SAID STAY BACK!” he shrieked, dropping the shattered knife as he quaked.

You ignored the terrified man’s wail, ready to lunge at him when there was a click.

The front door opened, revealing your parents.

You stopped in place. The man let out a relieved sob.

Mama let out a choked gasp, her outfit stained as she rushed to pick you up and hold you away from the bloodied and sobbing burglar. Her eyes were so wide they resembled saucers, she never let her gaze leave you. She turned your head this way and that, trembling at the sight of blood that wasn’t yours while looking for injuries. You had none.

Papa already had a phone to his ear, voice hoarse as he called for heroes. It wouldn’t be long before sirens started to wail outside of your house as heroes took over the scene.

As you looked between your parents, you noticed something. They didn’t let you out of their sight. Never looking at the villain who broke in. Not even once.

You looked up at them, scales dried with a man’s blood while pressed against Mama’s favorite outfit, and saw the distrust in their eyes. The fear. Both directed at you.

For the first time since you got your quirk, you realized that maybe being a dragon wasn’t as cool as you thought.

You lowered your bloody head in shame, cowering against your mother for even a sliver of reassurance. You didn’t know what you did wrong, but you knew you probably did something bad.

You were a hero….right?

Letting the dragon do whatever made people scared, you had realized at a mere seven years of age. Humanity had looked at you funny when you once talked about how fun it might be to chase down foxes in the fields or attack pigeons sleeping on rooftops because all it wanted to do was funplaydowhatevereatplayplayplay.

You realized the looks now. You would never be able to forget them. So, you vowed to never transform again. Not if you could help it.

It hurt not being able shift. The other children at school always thought you were awesome and cool and a thousand other things when you were large and scaly and you. You were a child and nothing really mattered more than who wanted to play with you, what you were having for lunch, and apparently the most important factor— what your quirk was.

Who you were allowed to play with depended on how cool the other first graders thought your quirk was, because the quirkless were boring and weak. At least, that’s when everyone else said. You didn’t think quirks mattered very much. It didn’t matter what they looked like or what their quirk was, to you, if a classmate was a jerk—they were simply that. A big jerky jerk. It was totally not related to their smell connecting to their personality whatsoever. No—you are imagining things.

Your popularity had dwindled slightly when you refused to carry the other kids in your class around on your back during recess, but you didn’t care. You tried not to care, at least.

It was for the greater good, your little seven year old mind had repeated when you sat with a smaller group of friends at lunch than you had before.

You still cried about it in the security of your parents car when they picked you up.

After the robber incident and the other children at school becoming too much for you, your parents decided to homeschool you. You didn’t mind this change, and they always joked that it saved the planet from a little more car emission.

It was during one fall morning that everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong for you.

Mama was in the kitchen with you, cutting both your sandwiches into hearts while you peeled the oranges. You hummed a catchy tune you once heard on the antique radio your mother often uses, blissfully unaware of the havoc about to befall you.

Mama called out your name, “Why don’t you start molding the onigiri? Then papa can take them to work!” She cooed, the frills behind her ears shifting to a soft lavender as they gently trembled.

You looked up at her with an excited nod. "Kay!" you sang happily. Then you turned, hopped off your stool, and dragged it over to the sink to wash the orange peels from under your fingernails. Just like you were taught.

As you finished washing your hands, you noticed a strange tingling sensation in your fingers. At first, you dismissed it as nothing more than the cold water's effect, but the feeling intensified. Suddenly, your vision blurred, and you felt a horrible itchy feeling starting to spread across your head in waves until it morphed into a constant pain. You cried out for your mother, tears gathering in your eyes as you kneeled to the ground in pain. The itching only intensified, and the world became a blur of color.

Faintly, like your mind had been ripped from your body and was only left with a dull sensation, you could feel your mother wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into her lap.

You tried to tell her it hurt, but all that escaped your throat was a mangled sob as the pain increased tenfold. Stars exploded across your vision in a kaleidoscope of colors. Your tiny hands tugged at your head desperately, as if it would make the pain stop even for a moment. It did not. Something large and soft grabbed your hands in their own, guiding them to wrap around what you guessed were your mother’s shoulders. You held her as tightly as you could, tears streaming down your face and wailing until you lost your voice.

You both sat on the kitchen floor for what felt like ages, motionless until the pain subsided, leaving only a dull headache as a reminder. The food remained untouched, the onigiri unmolded.

Your mother brushed her hand through your hair, whispering a lullaby that lulled you into a drowsy state. As she traced her fingers along your scalp, her confusion grew. When you were hovering between sleep and wakefulness, she felt it again—her hand pausing at the sides of your head.

Small bumps had appeared on each side, barely covered by a layer of skin.

You had begun growing horns.

You were hospitalized when your tail began to grow, nearly a year after your horns started showing. The initial pain was excruciating—so severe that you were ready to knock yourself unconscious when the over-the-counter pain medication your mother had been giving you for your horn growth pains, which had started nearly a year earlier, proved ineffective.

Mama sat in the chair beside your bed, holding your small hand in hers as she waited for the doctor to return and Papa to arrive from work.

You shifted uncomfortably beneath the crisp white sheets. Just minutes ago, the kind doctors had guided you through an X-ray machine, showing you and Mama the images with reassuring smiles.

The results revealed a new bone near your lumbar vertebrae—your lower spine. A literal tail bone, they said. You were growing a tail, little by little.

Your feelings about this were mixed. On one hand—a tail! On the other, it was a tail. And it already hurt! Your horns had barely grown two inches from your head, and you'd felt like you were being split in half the day the bone broke through skin. How long would it take for your tail to grow? You were certain it would be far more painful than growing horns.

You shuddered at the thought, your hand instinctively reaching for your lower back where the new tail was said to be starting. The doctors had warned you, with words sugar-coated for a child of nine years, about the potential discomfort, but their clinical words couldn't fully capture the reality of what you were about to experience. As you lay there in the hospital bed, a mix of anticipation and dread settled in your stomach.

You gave your mother’s hand a gentle squeeze. She squeezed right back.

You would surely be able to figure something out. The doctors could help, right? Doctors saved people. So they were heroes.

Surely there was a way to save you from the pain?

Your mother comforted you through the painful process of growing horns and a tail, a process that took years of medication and hospital visits. She understood you better than anyone; her quirk allowed her to transform into dinosaurs. You'd only ever seen her shift into herbivores, and you both silently acknowledged the reason why. This unspoken understanding formed a deep bond between you—a connection that meant everything.

Your father did his best to understand. His quirk, centered around imagination rather than transformation, made it harder for him to relate. Nevertheless, he always tried to put himself in your and your mother's shoes. These attempts often resulted in comical disasters—misty, house-sized dinosaurs and dragons flying and scampering around the property like oversized mice. Despite the chaos, you could tell that he cared deeply. And that was usually enough.

By the age of thirteen, the horns had grown farther from your head and a full tail connected to your spine, reminding you of how your quirk made you different from others. You cried often as they grew, because growing bones and muscles was painful and you hated your quirk for it. You were sure you experienced pain far worse than any child your age should ever have to go through.

As you grew older, suppressing your primal instincts—the urge to hunt, play, eat, and sleep endlessly—also became easier. Your human mind developed and matured, while the beast within remained stagnant, neither growing nor learning. This internal divide between your evolving consciousness and the unchanging animal nature that was still you in a way became more pronounced with each passing year.

Now you were sixteen years old, attending one of the most prestigious hero schools in Japan : U.A.

Because maybe, just maybe, if you saved people even as a scaly or feathery beast with claws and teeth sharp enough to pierce and kill, they’d look at you and smile in awe and feel safe. A balance to those who saw how dangerous you are and feared you for it.

In the future, as you learned your friends aspirations, It seemed like a selfish reason to become a hero compared to Ochako’s or Izuku’s dreams—but it was your motivation and you couldn’t give it up easily. You wouldn’t, or more specifically, you didn’t know how.

Everything was progressing remarkably well, exceeding your expectations of your high school life. Your classmates' reactions to your quirk were nothing short of healing. As they cautiously ran their hands over your scales, each one as large as their heads, their faces lit up with genuine wonder and excitement. It was as if they were encountering a mythical creature brought to life, struggling to reconcile the reality of your transformed state with their own eyes.

Their expressions of amazement and fascination weren't just fleeting moments of curiosity; they seemed to radiate a deep, heartfelt appreciation for your unique ability. You could see it in their wide eyes, hear it in their excited whispers, and feel it in the gentle, reverent way they touched your scales. It was a validation you had long craved but never quite expected to receive so wholeheartedly.

The warmth of their acceptance enveloped you like a comforting blanket, wrapping around your very being and soothing anxieties you didn't even realize you harbored. In that moment, basking in their genuine smiles and unguarded enthusiasm, you felt a surge of emotion so powerful it nearly overwhelmed you. You knew, with unwavering certainty, that you would go to any lengths, face any challenge, to preserve those smiles and maintain that acceptance. The thought of anything encompassed a vast realm of possibilities, and you were prepared to explore every one of them if it meant keeping your classmates looking at you with that same wonder and joy.

All seemed well until you closed your eyes, nestled under the warm blanket. In that moment of vulnerability, you unwittingly lowered your guard—precisely when you needed it most.

That’s when it chose to strike.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

would you still love me if i was a

[bavis gavis voice] happy post-white day you sick Fucks.

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, crack treated seriously, inspired by fulgur’s white day stream, maybe canon compliant?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It takes Fulgur some time to weigh the question after you repeat it again. Even so, it’s less of the sweet thoughtfulness you were hoping for and more just trying to wrap his head around it.

He’s so confused that not only does he look away from his computer screen, but he pivots his chair around entirely to face you. “…A worm.”

“Yeah.”

"Like a pest? Or a vermin."

"If you wanna call them that, sure."

“Why would you turn into a worm?”

“I dunno, maybe I’m secretly Gregor Samsa?”

“What does Kafka have to do with anything?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You spend a lot of time thinking about things that don’t matter.”

“Hey, it does too matter.”

“Kafkaism is fiction that reflects the surrealism of reality. We’re not fictional.”

“Cap.”

“What do you mean, cap, I’m a real— oh, never mind.” He pinches his nose again, and this time you must’ve gotten under his skin, because he even lifts his glasses up to rest on his head as he looks at you. “Why are you asking me about worms?”

“No context allowed! I’m suddenly a worm. Would you still love me, yes or no?”

“Why would I have to answer? You’re not turning into a worm.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Wh—“ Fulgur stares at you. “Yes, I do?! I live with you!”

You look off to the side and smirk. “Heh. You don’t even know about my double-life as a decomposer.”

“The only decomposing you do is when you lay in bed for three hours on your phone.”

“Fuu! Answer now!”

“No comment!”

“You are so unromantic!”

“You’re just now realizing this?!”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

This is ironic.

Delightfully so.

Not exactly as you imagined, however. Rather than a worm, right in front of you is…

“Please don’t make this any worse than it is, Reader.”

A small seahorse, prostrated on the ground and somehow capable of breathing despite being very much above air. The gray ponytail and stubble around his snout was jarring, but there’s no mistaking the lifeline of red around his eye.

You let out the fourth-loudest laugh of your life, effectively wrecking Fulgur’s request before you even accepted it.

You cackle for some time until your side hurts and you tear up. Seahorse Fulgur levitates up to eye-level (somehow??) as you wipe your watery eyes. “Are you still mad…?”

“Mad?" You ask. "Why would I be mad?”

He hesitates. “The worm thing?”

It takes you a moment to remember the conversation you had almost exactly a week ago. You haven’t forgotten it nor how amused you were during it, but who’s to say the feeling was mutual?

Your lips press together. Did you misread the situation? “No, I wasn’t mad at all. It’s a silly question with silly answers.”

“Oh.” Fulgur sounds almost as small as his seahorse body, just the right size to cup your hands around him. Your fingers serve as a headrest. "Well, now I feel silly, too."

"It's okay, I don't mind. It was funny watching you get confused even if I didn't get an answer." You pat him on the head with a finger. "I'd still love you even if you were a seahorse, though."

Fulgur shuts his eyes. "You're making fun of me."

"A little."

"Would you let up if I answered the worm thing?"

"Maaaaybe." You pat him on the head again. "It doesn't matter now, we just need to find Legatus."

"Well, I would," Fulgur admits.

"Pardon?"

"Even if you're a worm," the seahorse says. He lays flat along your palm, yet his tail stretches out, wrapping around the edge of your thumb. Can seahorses blush?

You'd like to put that question to the test. "Full sentences, please, Fuu."

"I'd love you even if you were a worm," Fulgur says, and even with a snout and two beady eyes, you can just hear the way he presses his lips together and averts his gaze, dedicated to whenever he says it and all the courage he has to muster to be honest.

If he knew how he had you wrapped around his finger when he gets this shy he'd never let you hear the end of it, and still never be able to abuse that privilege. He's true to himself, even if it's at the expense of his pride.

So the urge to tease passes. Instead, you lift your hand up to your lips, press a kiss onto your fingers, and poke him gently on the side of his face. "Let's get you fixed up, Fuu."

"Please." His tail tightens around your thumb. "I'm afraid if we wait any longer I might give birth."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[1ovemelikeasailor]

Sailor pt.5

trying to update but math honors is kicking me in the butt so hard.

play the song.

"Sailor Song" -Gigi Perez

Summary: just when things were starting to be fine—it got worse.

Jenna Ortega x Female reader

Check out the other parts for more info!

-

No one's POV:

Monday

They both sat underneath the bleachers, some of the sun shining through.

Jenna carefully kissing Y/n, using her left hand to guide Y/n's face.

She slowly pulls away, big smile on her face.

"You taste like cherry." Jenna mumbles, both of their faces so close. Jenna looks at Y/n'a eyes then back at her lips.

Y/n looks away.

"It's my chapstick." She mutters back. Jenna grips Y/n's jaw making her look at her. "Yes, Jen?"

"Mmm, nothing." She lies down on the grass. "I had this terrible math quiz today—gosh, I scored so bad on it."

"Yeah? You study?"

"No I didn't—"

"Okay, whose fault is that?" Y/n smiles at Jenna.

"Um, yours. You were the wanted to sneak in during my studying hours—"

"You begged me to come over!"

Jenna giggles.

"I have no regrets!"

The bell rings.

Both teens groan, Y/n flops onto the grass beside Jenna.

"We should skip." Y/n suggests.

"You know I can't do that."

"I don't know why you take school so seriously—"

"Because it is important." Jenna sits up, straddling on Y/n's lap. It makes Y/n sit up. "You should start taking it more seriously too." Y/n doesn't answer, playing with Jenna's cross necklace. "Y/n?" Jenna questions. "Im being serious."

"Mhm." She puts her hands on Jenna's waist, leaning up close.

"I..have to go."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, Y/n." Y/n kisses Jenna's neck making her breath hitch. "Y/n."

"Hm?"

"Y/n—I have to go—" Jenna takes a deep breath trying to make her words sturdy as she says them.

"Im sure being late to one class won't hurt, Jen."

Jenna lets out a huff debating her options.

"Five minutes only."

-

"You're late miss L/n." Her science teacher explains as she walks in the class.

"Sorry, lost track of time." She doesn't look at the teacher just walks to her desk.

"Dude you're 20 minutes late." Mason looks at Y/n confused. 5 minutes were from Jenna, the other 15 were from Y/n just laying in the grass talking to herself.

"Yeah, well I just wanted to lay in the grass, you know?"

"Just laying in the grass? You sure nothing with Jenna?"

"Man when will you guys stop with that? I already told you a million times she told me to leave her alone. Thats it."

Y/n was lying straight through teeth, and to her best-friend. But, it was all for Jenna.

"Right, so Im suppose to believe that after you keep ditching us during our gaming time to go to sleep?"

"Hey, Im tired nowadays!"

"You literally sleep 24/7–"

"Thats a lie me and Jasmin are on the game until 6 in the mornings on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"You guys have a schedule?! And why am I not invited?!"

"Because you suck at call of duty!"

"Thats not true I have 21 wins—"

"Jasmin carries you every-time!"

"So you show up to my class 20 minutes late, and want to just make a huge scene in the back of my classroom?" Their science teacher says. "Detention for you Miss L/n."

Y/n groans.

"Um, with due respect Mrs.Ramirez—"

"Detention for you too, Mason."

-

Tuesday

It was 2am. Y/n had snuck through Jenna's window for the 3rd time that week. She'd usually stay for a few hours until Jenna's parents got up.

"Okay, what's the origin of the x if you have to rotate the triangle?" Y/n held up one of the flashcards looking for Jenna's response.

"Shouldn't it be 0,0?" Jenna stops pacing in her room looking at Y/n.

"If..it wasn't rotating then yes that would be the answer."

Jenna groans.

"So, Im wrong."

"You're definitely not right—"

Y/n's laugh is cut off by Jenna tackling her onto her bed.

"You're definitely not right." Jenna mocks Y/n's tone. It makes Y/n laugh even more.

"Okay seriously we have to focus Jenna, the quiz is next week!"

“I need a break.” Jenna huffs, then lays her head on Y/n’s chest.

Jenna loved the way she felt right now, the way she felt you breathe in every breath, the way your chest went up and down, the way she could hear your heartbeat. She looks up at Y/n slowly inching her way to her lips.

Y/n begins closing the gap between the two girls, making their lips touch. Jenna adjusts her position getting on-top of Y/n. The kiss gets deep, so Y/n uses her elbows to support her getting up.

Y/n begins taking off her shirt, with the help of Jenna. She feels all over Y/n’s body, getting deeper and deeper into their love.

Jenna told no one about the way she felt with Y/n. The way their lips moved so in sync with each other, the way her golden cross necklace came off that night, the way Y/n touched her like no one has before, and the way each touch felt like heaven on her skin. She’d been told heaven would be without this—without Y/n’s touch, without their love. At this time Jenna wasn’t sure she wanted to go to heaven, if heaven would be without this. Be without her and Y/n. It was impossible.

-

Friday

There Jenna’s mother sat. On their couch scolding Jenna, her father as well. Her mother had caught Y/n and Jenna underneath the bleachers—not doing anything, just hanging out.

“We were just talking mom—“

“That girl is bad news! Everyone in town knows she’s gay.” Her mother yells.

“She walks around like it’s something to be proud of! It’s the devils curse!” Jenna’s father adds on, he paces in the kitchen.

“I don’t want you hanging out with her. She’s is the devil!”

“No she isn’t! You don’t even know her! How can you say?”

“Why are you defending a faggot Jenna!” Jenna’s father screams at the top of his lungs.

“You guys promote loving everyone and anyone! How can you say this? You say you love God, but God wouldn’t want this! This is horrible! You guys are horrible!”

Jenna’s mother scoffs.

“You know better, Jenna.”

“I hate you guys.”

Jenna stands up.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Her dad stops pacing, looking at Jenna.

“Why do you even care?”

She runs out the front door. She doesn’t stop for her mother or father’s protests. Jenna just keeps running to the one place that felt like heaven.

-

She knocks on the front door.

“Jenna? Hi, come in.” Y/n’s mother says opening her door more. She walks in. “Y/n’s up stairs I think doing homework!”

“Thank you, Miss.” Jenna runs up the stairs. She doesn’t even knock, running into your room.

“Mom—I told you—oh shit, hi pretty?” Y/n looks confused. “You okay?” She looks at Jenna’s panting, the sweat on her face, her chest going up and down. Jenna shakes her head ‘no’. “What’s wrong?” She takes Jenna to the bed sitting her down.

“Y/n.” Jenna’s eyes water.

“Whats wrong, Jenna? What happened?” Y/n’s voice gets more stern.

“My parents—“

“Shit, do they know?”

“No, they don’t. But, they saw us hanging out earlier and want me to stay away from you.”

Y/n sigh, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, Jenna. You do what you need to do. I understand.”

Y/n knew the time would come—the time where they couldn’t hide it anymore, and she wasn’t willing to risk Jenna’s future or family relationship for her and Jenna’s relationship.

“No, Y/n, no.” Jenna grabs Y/n’s hands interlocking them.

“Jenna they’re gonna catch on, if we stop now…they won’t ever know.”

“I need you.”

“Jenna—“

Jenna kisses Y/n. The feeling makes Jenna calm down after all the emotions she had just had run through her.

“I love you.”

-

[kixberlyx]

𝓐 𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓫𝓮𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰...

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

꧁ bakugo x latina reader, swearing, sfw, mean bakugo, kirishima mentioned, enjoy!

ᰔᰔᰔᰔᰔᰔᰔᰔᰔᰔᰔᰔ

You had just moved from another state to Japan to study to be a hero at UA. You had finally moved into a beautiful house, next to Bakugo and at the time didn't know.

It was 11:27 pm, you were excited to be starting a new school and you were kicking your feet not able to sleep as you see your mom text you.

“Ya duérmete” popped up on your screen seeing as your mom had text you to go to sleep and scared that she would probably take your phone for the night you decided to listen but annoyed you went to sleep.

You wake up in shock as you hear your loud alarm clock ring, you quickly press the button on your phone to stop the alarm, and you get up happy but sleepy you get ready for your first day of high school and your first step to becoming a pro hero.

After getting done with your makeup and putting on your uniform, you hear your mom hell from down stairs “Y/N VAS A LLEGAR TARDE PARA LA ESCUELA VENGA A COMER NIÑA”. You jumped by the sudden yell from your mom but you quickly got up, your mom was latina so she was always this way, you ran down the stairs and going into the kitchen to sit and eat.

You great your father good morning with a kiss on the cheek before sitting down to eat, not wanting to be late and since you had to walk to school you ate rather quickly and then kissed your mom’s cheek before rushing out the door with your book bag.

You walk out the door and make your way to school, you are on your phone looking at your playlist to change the song that you were listening to and you look up realizing that you had made it to your new school, you take a moment to take in the sight of your new school and from this moment on you’ll become the best hero. You started walking while fixing your bracelet and someone bumps into your shoulder quite hard, you jump back from the sudden fit on the shoulder and you look back and yell “AY COÑO WTF WAS THAT FOR” and he turns around and walks up to you, he’s inches away from your face and says “excuse me…” in the lowest angriest voice you’ve ever heard but you were not scared cause your latina after all so you didn’t give two shits about some disrespectful ass bitch, “YOU BETTER WATCH WHERE YOUR WALKING EXTRA OR ELSE”, you push him and he jumps by the sudden shove by you and i swear you can see smoke coming out of his ears as you say “OR ELSE WHAT BITCH WHO THE DO YOU THINK YOUR TALKING TO” obviously standing on business and as he’s about to scream at you before you hear a voice yell from behind you. “BAKUGO HEY I FOUND YOU, what’s going on…” you and bakugo both look at a tall red haired man speed walking towards you both.

you explain to kirishima that this blonde haired bitch shoulder bumped me and i stood up for myself and he is getting all mad, he looks at you and bakugo and apologizes for bakugo actions but then asks “hey are you also going to UA?” and you say yes with a soft smile on your face, he continues to say “nice me and this guy are also going to be students at UA as well” he says with excitement in his tone. he then says “we should get going class is going to start soon!” he then grabs bakugo and drags him inside as you watch them walk away you sigh and say in your head “he better not be in my class”…

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Part 2 coming soon!

[delusional-day-dreamer]

First. Love. - Playlist!

Series Playlist (more songs will be added with each part!):

Holy Ground (Taylor Swift 2019 BBC Live Lounge)

18 (One Direction)

Teenage Dream (Katy Perry)

Steal My Girl (One Direction)

This Town (Niall Horan)

Us (Gracie Abrams ft. Taylor Swift)

Stranger (Olivia Rodrigo)

Never Really Over (Katy Perry)

Flaming Hot Cheetos (Clairo)

We Can't Be Friends (Ariana Grande)

Glue Song (Beabadoobe ft. Clairo)

Ghost of You (5 Seconds of Summer)

Good Luck Babe! (Chappell Roan)

Hold Me Down (Daniel Caesar)

Eternal Us:

ceilings (lizzy mcalpine)

means something (lizzy mcalpine)

i miss you, i’m sorry (gracie abrams)

from the start (laufey)

let it happen (gracie abrams)

that way (tate mcrae)

wish you were sober (conan gray)

promise (laufey)

the way things go (beabadoobe)

i know it won't work (gracie abrams)

teenage dream (olivia rodrigo)

scared of my guitar (olivia rodrigo)

i wish i hated you (ariana grande)

[incorrect-yhs-quotes]

Grian: Don't break someone's heart, they only have one.

Sam: Break one of their bones instead! They've got 206!

[kirisaki-daichi-scenarios]

Someone Worth Loving | Yandere!Imayoshi Shouichi

for anon who asked "in which a popular s/o was the crush of imayoshi in first year until there year, but  s/o didn't want to be tie down so they just play around, and yan! imayoshi was a delusional to think that he's special. i think imayoshi will be very oc, so feel free to change something hehe. i love your writing style and works" this was fun to write, challenging but also a good chance to have a think about yandere!imayoshi further and outside my usual box for him. he's not particularly delusional here - i just can't see someone as socially aware and intelligent as ima being a delusional yandere. but i figured the combination of a) him not being a control freak and being pretty laidback; having that darker side, but also not wanting people to perceive him as evil unlike hanamiya + b) probable abandonment/grief issues after losing his mum + c) liking prim and proper girls = a more intriguing and unique yandere than i usually give him credit for. so thanks for the ask anon, and without further ado... content warning for slight explicit-ness. this is a yandere fic - it's not romance, and it's written accordingly.

It was love at first sight for Imayoshi. 

On that fatal first day, you skipped through the doors of the Touou classroom that you would share with Imayoshi for the next three years, holding hands with a ‘friend’ you had befriended just minutes prior (whom, Imayoshi already understood, would be forgotten about as soon as someone more suitable appeared to take her place), asking her where they should sit.

The other girl pointed to two empty desks near the front. That was when you let go of her hand. 

“I just have to sit by the windows,” you said, not at all apologetically, as if it was a given, not even sparing a second glance at the girl beside you - her eyes a little wide, almost a touch teary as she realised that she was already being demoted to rank of Friendless First Year. 

There was only one seat left near the windows. They’d have to split up. And the remaining chair was by fellow first year Imayoshi, who was pulling a pen out his backpack, pondering whether to ignore you or put on a show of bored confidence and do introductions.

As he pondered, you sat down beside him. Your knee briefly pressed against his. Then panicked, pulled away. You looked around the classroom as if you were ignoring your seatmate by accident, just curious about all the new faces. You had felt the sparks too. 

It took only this long - just those few seconds - for Imayoshi to stumble across realisations that would affect the rest of his life. 

(1) For all that confidence you showed off - confidence that, as you grew older, would become glam and men double your age wrapping their arms around your shoulders - you were an insecure coward like the crowds of girls who looked up to you from the distance.

(2) Imayoshi was feeling something. At the time, he called it curiosity; it would take later introspections for it to be correctly labelled as love. 

Not that there was much reason to love you, at the beginning anyway. Though the two of you talked often, quick conversations in at least a couple classes a day, they were nothing but the usual seatmate discussions. You, an idiot, had cottoned onto the fact that Imayoshi was breezing through every class. You put on your usual batting-eyelashes persona, cutesy obsequiousness (“I’m so sorry to bother you again, but for number 13...”) punctuated with meaningless sweet-nothings (“Honestly, Shouichi, you’re the best. I love you.”), and who was he to deny your requests for help?

Of course, with anyone else, Imayoshi would have gotten fed up by now - the occasional question was fine, but in almost every lesson? - yet it was cute how you thought you could rely on him. Like you seriously believed that him talking you through integrating exponentials meant you could trust him. 

When he’d walk into the classroom at break, while you were sat gossiping with all your girlfriends (an ever-expanding plague of copycats, B-rate versions of you), they’d all stop talking but you. 

You’d say, “don’t worry about him - that’s my bestie, Shouichi. He’s literally saving my grade right now.”

And then everyone would go back to gossiping, and you’d flash him a quick smile, and Imayoshi would never comment on how he technically hadn’t given you permission to use his first name, or on how it was so fucking stupid of you to dismiss him as the nerd who let you copy his answers sometimes. Like he didn’t have ears; like he was just one of your pawns; like he didn’t own you. 

Okay, that was an exaggeration. Maybe. But Imayoshi did in fact have ears, and he was a being with agency who overheard plenty of gossip and rumours, gossip that could destroy your sweet little reputation - not to mention your relationship with your parents - if he so chose. The fact that he didn’t was chivalry in action. Anyone else would have faced his bored wrath - he’d already manipulated a few rumours such that you had discarded one of your close friends on account of them.

Yet, for the time being, he was content letting you bathe in the sunlight. 

After all, he couldn’t have his future wife kicked out of school for being a pathetic, needy slut who couldn’t let a party finish without having at least slammed her lips on at least one total stranger.  

If you got expelled, you wouldn’t be in the yearbook. And then what would the two of you reminisce over, twenty years from now, cuddling on the sofa? 

So he tried to be content with observing you, playing his part as the polite nerd, and it worked for over a year. There were highs (you cheering him on during the final basketball match in your first year); there were lows (you had brought some brainless baseball jock to the match). But Imayoshi endured. Imayoshi took his time. Imayoshi let you gush over how happy you were to be sitting next to him again in your second year - “you’re my guardian angel, Shou-chan”. Imayoshi turned a blind eye to the partying and the boys, who lingered by the classroom door hoping to catch sight of you, and the never-ending stream of friends, and the way you’d smile at him like you adored him, only to switch it off as soon as the class was over. As soon as you had no more use for him.

Imayoshi, mature for his age, understood that he couldn’t make you who he wanted you to be overnight. Unfortunately, it seemed that girls like you just had to go through this phase. 

It was in the third year that things went downhill.

When it rains, it pours. On the first day of term, you hadn’t greeted him when you entered the classroom, too busy texting frantically on your phone, a new fluffy pink keychain dangling from it that didn’t match any of your girl friends’ and so had to be a gift from a stranger.

Imayoshi had greeted you, of course.

But when you had looked up briefly to smile and say hi back, he had been demoted: "Shouichi" instead of "Shou-chan". 

You were working harder than before too. Suddenly, the two of you were working in silence side by side, your hair falling over your face, hiding it from Imayoshi. You never once tucked it behind your ear to ask Imayoshi for the answers to the next section. You just sat and wrote away, like you fancied yourself the best in the class now. Clearly, you’d been studying over the holiday. Fine. Good even - Imayoshi couldn’t marry a complete fool, even an obedient housewife needed some brains. But to reject him because of it? Discard him like all the other toys you got bored of using? 

He felt his anger swell and spin in a strength of feeling he had not known since his mother died. Murder occurred to him; abduction no longer seemed unreasonable. He tucked away duct tape and rope and sleeping pills in a shelf his sister could not reach, locked it for good measure, and spent his nights tossing and turning and questioning his own identity. 

He heard rumours you were in trouble. Kicked out the house, financial issues, an abortion: almost everything got mentioned. Someone had a friend whose mum was a cop, and apparently you’d been visiting the police station following a domestic violence case, a prostitution case, or maybe just a mugging. The specifics were unclear and frequently changed, but Imayoshi took sight of the bruises on your neck and arms, just visible under layers of concealer, and on he went pondering.

He would never get the truth out of you directly, no. These days, whenever he entered the classroom at break, you and your few remaining trusted friends whispered until he left. The trust was gone; and the gossip no longer appropriate for male ears to hear.

A complete stranger would have been treated in the same way. A stranger. 

He’d put so much work into you, spent two years as a loyal servant, letting you feel smug and superior, and this was what he fucking got for it? 

"Imayoshi was not rash," he told himself. 

"Imayoshi wants to be rash," his reflection parroted back to him. 

“Imayoshi?” called Susa, nudging him in the middle of a study session, “you okay?”

“Tired,” replied Imayoshi, realising that the page in front of him was still empty. 

He smiled an easy smile, and forced the thought of you out of his mind before he snapped his pencil in two. 

----

And “he’s tired” was what Susa repeated when Harasawa, fiddling with his hair, asked why Imayoshi acting a bit out of it today. 

The coach glanced at Imayoshi with critical eyes, and saw a stranger in him. “Do you want to take a break?”

“I’ll be alright.“ Imayoshi forced the familiar grin across his lips yet again. “Some match play will wake me up.”

The last thing he needed was some time away from basketball. For every minute he wasn’t concentrating on the game, he was thinking of you smiling at male ‘friends’, you cuddling up with police officers, you flirting with strangers on the street, you and that miniskirt you wore everywhere outside of school and the men who would stare and you feeding into their attraction, and they’d put a hand around your waist and let their fingers slip underneath your tights, and they’d murmur “hotel?” to you, and you’d rub up against them and- 

Sakurai passed the ball to Imayoshi, and the captain dribbled and felt a moment’s peace. He passed it back to Wakamatsu, standing ready under the hoop-

You’d be pulling off your clothes real slow, really teasing them, and they’d be touching and licking and sucking on that skin that belonged to Imayoshi alone. They’d throw you to the bed; you squeal, maybe whimper at the big bad man standing in front of you. God you’d be noisy, slut that you are - you wouldn’t talk to Imayoshi any more but you wouldn’t shut up for these salarymen (why did Momoi have to mention that word on the street was you were in the JK business now? If hearing of you being with classmates wasn’t torture enough!), even when you were gagging you’d be crying out, tears in your eyes, and maybe they beat you, maybe they ground into you until you couldn’t walk, your underwear ripped, miniskirt stained around your hip, lying hopelessly on a bed in an empty room, your skin littered with both hickeys and bruises. 

Maybe you’d pray for a better life. The audacity to pray having spent all these years betraying him. 

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” muttered Susa in the changing room, briefly squeezing his friend's shoulder. 

Imayoshi looked around feeling like he’d awoken from a nightmare.

Everyone but Imayoshi had long finished changing out of their kit. People were talking, laughing, bouncing a spare basketball against the wall. Aomine, despite being a known virgin, was proudly announcing his list of the easiest lays in the school. Your name came in at number two. And before Imayoshi could ask Aomine how he knew that if all he spent his free time doing was jerking off to magazine pages, Wakamatsu interjected. 

Wakamatsu told Aomine not to talk about you like that.

Wakamatsu was blushing. 

"You fucking siren," murmured Imayoshi under his breath, thinking of the way you used to bat your eyelashes at him. 

Something about the blonde made Imayoshi see mistakes like never before. God himself couldn’t have made it any clearer. Imayoshi had let you run wild for too long, and in your own sickness you had diseased everyone else too. You had brought shame to yourself, and - worse - to the Imayoshi name that you would one day take on as your own. 

It was time to remind you to whom you belonged. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too late to make you an honourable housewife, an obedient little dog. 

“You still there?” said Susa with a little more concern, nudging Imayoshi again. 

“Don’t worry,” and this time Imayoshi didn’t need to force that closed-eye, cruel grin. “I’ve got something to sort out, and then I’ll be back to normal.”

He would teach you that he had never been your toy. 

[ashlinxsloves]

I just realized that my gravity falls era has reawakened itself... might add GF to my masterlist.

I obviously have a thing for older men as you can see lmfao.. the stuff will be mainly focused on the grunkles and if I write a Dipper or Mabel fic, it'll be purely platonic!!

Also played through the Swooning over Stan's visual novel game and I can't get enough-!

I also promised that I would post the hcs somewhere this week but I've been tired with school work and I'm sorry 😭😭😭 I promise I'm working on it!!! I already have a draft on paper and I just gotta type it all out-