#practical exams arc

[jenmisukke]

I'm convinced the writers of naruto the last just have never watched or read the kage summit arc

[marigoldenblooms]

An Important Lesson - One-Shot

Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint. 

A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!  Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)

Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.  Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~ 

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were. 

Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad. 

You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long,  And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?

Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date. 

As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------

Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam. 

“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?” 

You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.

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

“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces. 

You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”

Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”

“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”

“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”

“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat. 

“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.

“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?” 

You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat. 

“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer. 

“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that. 

“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”

“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.

Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.

Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-” 

You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it. 

“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again. 

“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?” 

If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”

“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk. 

“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.” 

Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes. 

And your secret?

You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.

[shomatoriashi]

08/10/24; 04:00pm

sung jinwoo x reader / sung jinwoo x cha hae-in

{ oneshot - angst to fluff }

- the academy arc -

{ we can’t be friends | but i’d like to just pretend | you cling to you papers and pens | wait until you like me again | wait for your love | love, i’ll wait for your love… }

perhaps you were destined to suffer with this unrequited love, you think to yourself while sneaking glances at jinwoo, watching as he turned the pages of his textbook while jotting down notes within the confines of his notebook.

currently, you were both studying for your upcoming college entrance exams. jinwoo had invited you over to his place, and you were settled within the quiet sanctuary of his room. surrounding you were pieces of jinwoo that made your heart turn even softer for him, and you swore you would never get used to how his scent seemed to permeate at the air. taking a break from your own studying, you decide to admire the various trophies he had won during his time spent on the track team.

of course, such winnings came as no surprise for you, since he had always been shockingly athletic. that fact has never changed-

however, his reasoning for joining track in the first place was what made your heart clench painfully within your chest. you recalled that day like it was just yesterday...

it was the first day of high school, and you recognized jinwoo from your elementary school years. gathering your courage, you decided to sidle up to his desk, earning a smile from him when you disclosed your identity to him. as you struck a conversation with him (reminiscing on old times), some rambunctious guys began heckling jinwoo while they surrounded both you and him. they made you incredibly nervous, and as one of them reached out to you, jinwoo immediately stopped them from grabbing you, standing from his seat as he spoke in a stern tone.

"leave her alone. if you want to get to me, then talk to me directly."

your eyes go wide when the boys seem to freeze up before moving stiffly away from you, their steps shaky and uneven, like they were puppets being controlled on a string. seconds later, they were all tumbling into the hallways, making your eyes go wide. a soft chuckle was heard coming from jinwoo, and once you looked back, you saw the secretive smile on jinwoo's face.

you may have had a crush on him at that very moment.

after that day, you cling to jinwoo like a lost puppy, having stars in your eyes at the mere sight of him. you comment on how much taller- on how much braver he had gotten since you had last seen him. while you gushed on him, he simply gives you a kind smile in response.

"thanks... i guess you could say i've worked out a little bit since i've grown."

"a little bit? jinwoo, you practically tower over everyone here! you must have plans to join an athletic club or something, right?"

jinwoo ends up considering your words with a hum before smiling back down at you. "i suppose i'd like to give track a try... after all... there's someone i'd like to meet."

his admission makes you stop dead in your tracks, your heart clenching just the tiniest bit when you see the warmth within his stormy gaze. he was clearly thinking about someone achingly special to him... and that made your throat close up as you struggled to get the words out.

"oh really? who is she?" you were surprised at how even your voice came out, unsure of why you were feeling this way over meeting an old friend again. jinwoo meets your gaze from your periphery and gives you a kind smile. "she's someone that's special to me... and i've waited a long time to meet her again."

that final confession was what ultimately stops you in your tracks, your heart aching at the fact that you would never get such a chance to be with jinwoo, especially when his heart had already been captured by another.

he notices the way you stop walking next to him and stops as well, eyes appearing wide when he asks if you were okay. you manage to let out a forced laugh, not wishing to admit the truth to him when you told him how you forgot you had a meeting with an advisor (a lie you had made up on the spot).

jinwoo ends up believing your lie and nods, walking closer to you so that he was now settled directly in front of you. amusement was seen in his gaze, and you could feel your breath become taken away by the sheer beauty and kindness of his smile. his large hand reaches out to you, and he ruffles it before stepping back, "okay, i'll see you tomorrow then. i'm going to head to the track field and talk to the coach about joining."

you nod and lift up your hand in a wave, watching jinwoo as he walked away from you with a heaviness felt in your chest.

since then, you tried to avoid him, or at least, tried to put some distance between you and him, yet jinwoo could never seem to take the hint. ever since that first day, he had already deemed you his best friend, further trapping your heart with the tendrils of love and affection you felt growing for him.

you spent the next three years remaining by his side, studying with him while supporting his efforts with each tournament he attended. yet instead of growing out of your crush for him, it grew to genuine feelings of love for him.

and this fact did little to hide the pain and envy you felt each time he answered her calls or eagerly replied to her texts, sometimes even going as far as meeting her during weekends to take her out on cute little dates-

looking back at him now, you felt your heart ache with the sheer amount of concentration was seen on his face. he was working so hard to be with her, to build a future with her-

a future that you were certain you could never be a part of.

in the midst of your reveries, jinwoo meets your gaze and gives you a smirk, "what are you looking at? is there something on my face?"

you shake your head and look back down at your textbook. since jinwoo admitted his feelings for this young woman named cha hae-in to you, you threw yourself into your studies and managed to make incredible grades. due to your own heartache, you decided to study abroad to get away from south korea, wishing to attend university in the united states, within the city of new york, to be exact.

you didn't think they would accept you, yet by some miracle, you were chosen to spend 4 years at a university there, hence why you were currently studying up on english grammar. however, there was a catch-

you had yet to tell jinwoo about your plans for college.

letting out a deep breath, you give your best friend a tiny smile before beginning to speak.

"jinwoo, i'm so sorry, but there's something i have to tell you."

he ends up frowning at your choice of words. "okay, what is it?"

with a heavy sigh, you shut your books and tell him, all while stuttering along the way, "uhm, w-well, you know h-how our school offers a s-study abroad program for u-universities we wish to a-attend?"

jinwoo's frown seems to deepen. "yes, i know about it."

"w-well, i signed up for the program a-and got accepted... i'll be moving to america soon."

hearing the news makes jinwoo drop his pen in response. "w-what? you're going to america?"

you could feel the anxiety coursing through your veins, "y-yes... i got accepted into a university in new york city and plan to leave near the beginning of january."

"NEW YORK CITY?!" jinwoo suddenly jumps out of his seat, his eyes widening so much that it seemed to bulge against his features, "t-that's so far away from here... why did you choose to go so far?"

to be as far away as i can be from you and the woman you love. but you don't tell him the truth, choosing to tell him a half-truth of sorts when you answer, "i've spent my whole life here, jinwoo. i think it's only natural for me to wish to expand my horizons and experience new things."

"y-yeah but... it's four years... what if you decide to never come back here?" jinwoo's voice becomes quiet all of a sudden, with his fists remaining clenched against his sides.

you let out a soft laugh, packing up your belongings one by one into your backpack. once everything was neatly in place, you stand back to your full height and meet with jinwoo's gaze. "it's okay... i'll be sure to keep in touch by texting you or calling you... but, i-i hope you'll forgive me if i forget or am too busy to call..."

an unreadable expression was seen in jinwoo's eyes, and for a brief moment, you could have sworn that his eyes flashed purple before going back to its original slate grey hue. not wishing to cry in front of him, you cling to your backpack and quickly excuse yourself, not even able to find the words to apologize to him for telling him such news of your departure so suddenly.

while you made your escape from his room, you were unaware of how jinwoo's intense gaze focused on your shadow, seeing loyal, glowing purple eyes looking back at him in understanding...

{ ... }

why was jinwoo such a mess now that you were no longer here?

after working so hard to pass the entrance exams for the last few months, he had plans of spending some time with you before you left for america... yet when he arrived at your place, you were nowhere to be found as your parents had told him that you had already departed for new york-

it had only been november at the time-

so you had lied to him as well?

and why did jinwoo's heart felt like it was on the verge of breaking?

your sudden departure coupled along with your obvious deception made jinwoo's heart clench with an unknown emotion. here you were, thousands upon thousands of miles away from him, leaving jinwoo feeling like he was drowning.

all of those shared laughters and inside jokes-

the times you spent remaining by his side during each and every one of his track meets-

and those late nights spent studying together, falling asleep together within the comfort of his bed-

had everything been all for naught?

with your absence drilling a hole within his heart, he found that not even hae-in's calls and texts could bring him out of this slump. jinwoo admits to how her beauty and awkward kindness had once ensnared his heart, making him think of nothing but meeting her again once he reset his timeline-

yet now, with you so clearly gone from his life, he found that he could not focus on anything but the memories he had of you-

memories of your smile and the way you would snort each time you tried to hold back your giggles while in class-

memories of how you would hide your face within his shoulder each time you watched a horror movie together, as if trusting him to shield you from all the monsters-

memories of how he could spend hours on end simply watching you sleep-

and it was only when you left him that he realized the truth of his feelings-

that you were the one he felt the most comfortable with... that by the end of the day, he would always need you and you alone...

with thoughts of you pushing him forward, he decides to finally come clean to hae-in one late afternoon on christmas eve. he wears his usual coat with a dark pair of jeans, expression forlorn as he felt conflicted with potentially breaking her heart. while walking across the streets of the city, he stops walking, already sensing her presence when he turns around to face her.

hae-in's hands were outstretched, bewilderment painting her beautiful expression. "there you are." jinwoo manages to smile at her, making hae-in take a step back as she brushes a hand across her golden strands of hair.

"it's like you have eyes in the back of your head, jinwoo." she hums and steps closer to him, "you took your college entrance exams last month, right? congrats. are you still going to the university you chose before? you got really good grades, so why are you set on going to that university?"

that was when things began to feel awkward on jinwoo's end. he coughs and was unable to meet hae-in's curious gaze. looking away from her, he shakes his head, "no, unfortunately, my plans have... changed since then."

hae-in seems taken aback by his confession, and jinwoo feels a wave of empathy coursing through his veins when he notices her expression, "i-it's not because of a woman, is it?"

jinwoo tears his gaze away from her, unable to give her a truthful answer without hurting her. yet, it seemed as though his silence was more than enough, making tears fill at her grey eyes as realization dawns within her tearful expression. "o-oh..."

with a shake of his head, he steps closer to her, "i'm sorry, for breaking our promise so suddenly. i thought... i thought i knew what i wanted... but... looking back on it now, she was the one who was by my side from the start."

hae-in's shoulders began to tremble in response, further filling jinwoo with guilt. "she was my best friend... and... she left me to pursue her dreams in america. now that she's not here, i feel... lost without her..."

"y-you wish to follow her?"

jinwoo closes his eyes before giving hae-in a nod. "i do."

a sob was heard escaping from hae-in, and jinwoo could feel the way she shoves him away from her, body trembling as she ran back home. his expression was filled with regret, watching hae-in running away from him. the soldier he had placed within her shadow lengthens in response to her movements, and jinwoo knew that she would be protected even if he wasn't around.

{ ... }

there was an odd sense of freedom felt coursing through your veins when you moved into your dorm, ready to start the semester. you were still surrounded by suitcases that held each and every one of the items you had deemed important to you.

as you took out each item from your suitcase, your eyes go wide when they saw a thick photo album you had no recollection of packing. taking it out, you watch as a note fluttered out of it, recognizing your mother's handwriting as it read:

i just wanted to pack you a little surprise; memories of your home, of family and friends who wish for nothing more than to support you. come back home and see us soon. love, mom

with tears filling your vision, you open up the album and flip through the first few pages, laughing at each picture before turning the page once more-

this time landing on a photo that had you and jinwoo smiling at the camera.

seeing his handsome face makes your heart well up with emotions you thought you had tossed aside. as your fingertips shakily trace at his handsome features, a sense of guilt filled you. you had purposely ghosted him, wanting nothing more than to leave south korea, just to put some distance between you and the man you had always loved-

a man who you believed with all your heart would forever remain an unrequited love.

unable to handle the pain of seeing jinwoo's face, you slam the album shut and let out a shaky breath. hot tears were felt streaming down your face, and your sadness was so potent- so palpable that it made the blood rush to your ears.

in fact, you were so distracted that you didn't hear the knocks at your door for several minutes. you gasp and look toward your front door, taking shaky steps toward it as you unlocked it.

"s-sorry, i was distracted, are you my roommate?" you spoke in english, earning a grunt from the person you assumed would be your roommate.

a deep hum was heard, "damn right i am." his face was covered by a huge box in his hand, and you saw the way his long legs kicked his suitcase inside, with your head tilted in response. you notice how he also spoke in english, yet there seemed to be a hint of an accent in it. a strange sense of familiarity fills you, and when you close the door was when your roommate puts down his box-

revealing himself to be sung jinwoo.

your breathing comes out in uneven breaths, with you taking a step back while meeting jinwoo's annoyed gaze. "jinwoo?!" you speak to him, reaching out to him with trembling hands. "t-there's no way... is it really you?"

jinwoo remains silent, simply taking casual steps closer to you, effectively trapping you against the wall. "who else would it be?" his reply was casual, and you flinch slightly upon feeling the way he brushes back your hair. with both hands settled against the wall, jinwoo prevents you from moving as he looks down at you, grey eyes shining with amusement.

your heart was felt pounding within your chest, making the heat travel all the way up to your cheeks when you shakily ask, "w-what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be with hae-in?"

the jerk had the nerve to smirk at your question! he ends up humming in response, taking a hold of your hand to press a kiss against the back of it "are you jealous?"

you end up sputtering in response, "are you teasing me?"

he hums, "and what if i am?"

before you could answer, jinwoo ends up taking you directly within his embrace, chuckling as you struggled to get out of his powerful arms. "jinwoo!"

he simply hums once more before settling himself on the couch with you, hands already delving themselves into your hair as he leans in to give your cheek a kiss. such a sudden display of affection was enough to make your head spin as jinwoo tightens his hold on you. "when you left was the moment i realized you had taken a part of me with you... a part of me that i never wish to have returned."

his words manages to stun you, all coherent thoughts ceasing as pure and utter hope fills your gaze. he smiles down at you in a loving manner, choosing to frame at your face while continuing, "it hurt me, realizing how you chose to leave so suddenly without even telling me goodbye... but shockingly enough, it was thanks to your absence that i realized the reasoning for your departure was because of me all along."

"jinwoo..." tears fill at your vision, making jinwoo slowly lean down to press you against the couch in response. his gaze was intense, and he brushes back your hair before telling you, "you left because you loved me... yet i was too stupid and blind to realize it... until now..."

your breathing hitches when jinwoo leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. you eagerly respond to him, kissing him back with a fervor (pouring all of the yearning and heartache you felt for him building up within those 3 years). jinwoo groans against your parted lips, deepening the kiss momentarily before pulling away from you.

jinwoo's handsome features were all you could see when he smiles down at you, and you allow his large hands to delve themselves into your hair when he kisses your forehead once more, "i love you... i realize that i cannot live without you... so please... will you promise to remain by my side and never leave me again?"

his question makes you giggle, eyes filling with absolute adoration for him when you lean up to press a kiss against his lips all while reassuring him, "i promise..."

that was the moment the years spent yearning for him (along with your heartache) vanished completely as jinwoo captured your lips in another breathtaking kiss, swallowing the sounds of your laughter completely…

end notes: this is so self indulgent for me (⺣◡⺣)♡ but it was so worth writing. currently unedited, but i'll make any necessary changes once this is posted. once again, i don't trust tumblr to keep my drafts for long 😭 🙌🏻

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[sickkonline]

Gon's arms being injured in every arc may have more significance than I thought.

While I'm confident everybody in the fandom has noticed this by now, I've never seen it dug into more deeply than just acknowledging it at its face value. So I started to really think about it.

First and foremost, whenever Gon loses/hurts one of his arms, it conveys courage, bravery, and selflessness.

Gon's arm is broken in the Hunter Exam because he refuses to forfeit his match with Hanzo. He wants a fair fight, and he's not giving up until he gets what he wants, even if it literally costs him an arm (haha) and a leg (hahaha.)

(also consider when gon breaks illumis hand to show har far he's willing to go when it comes to protecting and defending killua, even if illumi is way way way way wayyyy stronger than him)

In Heavens Arena, Gon's arm is broken while he participates in a nen battle knowing one singular form of nen. He fought, knowing he would lose, just for the sake of getting stronger.

In Yorknew, his arm is almost broken by Feitan after (somehow) having the courage to tell a Phantom Troupe member straight to his face that he's a hypocritical piece of shit murderer. (Like wow)

Greed Island is a fantastic example! Gon willingly lets his hands get BLOWN OFF for the sake of having an advantage in a fight he practically stood no chance in.

Then the Chimera Ant Arc where Killua can just barely save Gon in time. Where Gon makes the tragic connection that in the long run, he could be just like Kite while sacrificing his life to avenge him.

Yes yes, in every instance Gon injuring his arms is to convey how courageous he is.

While yes, it does show bravery, it also shows how little Gon cares about the effects of getting closer to meeting Ging has on his body.

Injuries, pain, are nothing to Gon because he won't let it be. Gon has this mindset of being so so so much weaker than he really is. He says it himself.

"I must be the weakest hunter ever!"

While comparing himself to everyone he's met on his journey.

But if Gon is weak, there's no way he's ever going to be a successful Hunter, ever going to meet Ging or be even slightly close enough to being respected by him.

So while Gon (with the help of nobody, NOBODY (please guys, Killua hardly ever sings his praises aloud,)) naturally, can't help his low self-esteem, He can dismiss whatever happens to him like some kind of freak of nature, never dwelling on anything for too long.

The one thing Gon can control is how he responds to disrespect or harm when it comes to himself.

So... If gon just so happens to lose an arm at least annually, it's not that big of a deal for him

OK, that's all, share your thoughts, I was gonna put more but I want to go watch Greed Island. so toodleloo for now.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 197 }

me and you

academy arc

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ we’re the new face of failure | prettier and younger, but not any better off | bulletproof loneliness, at best, at best… }

your heart was pounding with anxiety when your teacher began passing back your exam for algebra 2. your palms were sweating, and you felt nauseous at the thought of seeing your score.

his humming was heard, and the moment you saw your teacher completely eclipsing your form from prying eyes was when you knew you had failed. your test was flipped on its back, but from the sheer amount of red marks seen, you knew that the grade couldn’t possibly have been a passing one.

your heart was still felt thrumming against the base of your throat when you slowly turned it over-

revealing a 50% marked in bolded ink along with a message that read, ‘come see me after class.’

you internally groan, feeling the tears threaten to well up in your eyes as the frustration began to mount against you. it wasn’t like you didn’t study-

math was just an atrocious subject for you, and that fact will never change.

once the final bell rang, you wait for the students to head out first, their laughter and carefree attitude seeming to put a damper on your mood as you begrudgingly stepped closer to your teacher’s desk. he pushes up his glasses while keeping his hands folded on top of some assignments. he says your name in a gentle manner while meeting your gaze, taking note of the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes.

“now, i’m not upset with you. i just worry that you won’t understand the concepts well enough; that you may fail this course. because this is just our first exam, i’m willing to give you another chance.”

you give him a grateful smile and begin wiping away your tears. “thank you so much sir! so, what do i need to do?”

your teacher considers your words before telling you, “if you can correct every question you missed on this exam and turn it back into me by tomorrow, i’ll give you a passing score of 80%.”

upon listening to his explanation, the hope of a second chance was immediately ripped away from you, making the tears nearly drop from your eyes once more. before you could start bawling, your teacher suddenly lifts a hand to stop you. “now wait a moment, i wouldn’t be cruel enough to make you do this on your own. there is one young man who scored a perfect 100% on this exam, and i am going to enlist his help right now.”

he focuses his attention on someone settled behind you before calling out his name, making your heart practically freeze in response upon hearing the syllables that made up his name.

“sung jinwoo, could you please help this young woman and tutor her over the concepts covered in exam 1 along with correcting her answers?”

you look back to see the said boy with perfectly styled ebony locks of hair and stormy eyes meet your gaze. he was simply conversing with his friends when the teacher called out to him. he looks back to see your wide eyed gaze before giving you a beaming smile.

“sure, i don’t mind helping her at all.”

and it was at that exact moment you knew you were screwed-

because you had the biggest crush on jinwoo the world has ever known-

today was not going to end well.

he says his goodbyes to his friends before coming closer to you, running a hand over his hair as you had to look up to meet his gaze. despite being only 16 years old, he still towered over you (and over 95% of your classmates), making you wonder just how he had gotten so tall.

“my apartment is a little cluttered, and my sister may have gotten home from school, too. if it’s alright with you, can we head to your place instead?”

you give him a stiff nod, trying to keep your expression neutral and your voice even as you walked out of class together with him. he remains close to you, hands being shoved within the pockets of his coat. he maintains a safe distance from you, but didn’t stand so far away that you couldn’t admire his features up close. he was focused on the scenery that passes by from your periphery, and a part of you felt a deep sense of guilt for potentially wasting his time.

“jinwoo?”

he lets out a hum of your name, “yes?”

the sound of your name coming from his lips makes you shiver, nearly making you do a double take when you shake your head to help with calming down, letting out a sigh. “i’m sorry, i didn’t wish to put a damper on your plans or anything. it’s just… i have always been bad at math.”

jinwoo lets out a rich chuckle, “i know, but i never once minded it.”

a strange sense of nostalgia was felt coursing through you, halting you in your steps as you looked back at him to see his gentle smile. you kept opening and closing your mouth, unsure of what to make of the strange familiarity of his words. jinwoo ends up shaking his head before telling you, “don’t take this the wrong way, i just meant to say that i don’t mind helping you out, so it’s no trouble at all.”

satisfied with his reassurance, you visibly relax and continue your trek back home, unaware of the knowing smirk that paints jinwoo’s features as he keeps his eyes on your back, stepping in line from close behind you, as if wishing to shield you from any potential dangers.

after spending some time walking, you finally arrive in your neighborhood, heading towards your house as you placed a hand on your front door and unlocked it, allowing jinwoo to enter first. a casual smile paints his features when he thanks you, entering your home while taking off his shoes.

“my parents are still at work, so we’ll be by ourselves for the most part, if that’s okay with you…?”

jinwoo simply shrugs before gesturing at you, “it’s no problem at all. lead the way.”

you both end up being settled on your dining room table along with some snacks and bottles of cold water. jinwoo then starts spreading out his notebooks, pens, and calculator throughout the table before taking a seat next to you. he asks to see your exam with a sweet smile, and you hand it to him, still feeling shaky at the thought of your crush potentially judging you.

instead, he simply hums while moving his seat so that he was closer to you.

“it’s okay, i see your work, and you got very close to the right answer. your steps were just mixed up, that’s all.”

his voice remained kind and calm, never once becoming agitated with you as he slowly guided you through each problem that you missed. a few hours pass, and when you saw that you managed to correct all of the questions that you missed you couldn’t stop the wide grin from spreading across your face.

“oh my god, jinwoo, i did it!”

his grey eyes shine with mirth, “of course. i had no doubt in my mind that you could do it. you just needed some clarification and a gentle push in the right direction.”

when jinwoo was done commending you, he lets out a happy sigh before uncapping a bottle of water, taking a huge swig of it. as you put away your corrected exam, you couldn’t help but keep your gaze on jinwoo, watching the way his adam’s apple bobbed with each sip of water that he takes.

you were mesmerized at the sight of him, unable to look away as your eyes seemed to follow a single droplet of water as it made its descent from his lips all the way down to the base of his throat. he stops drinking from his water bottle moments later, now smirking at you when he asks, “what are you staring at?”

an undignified squeak was heard coming from you as you quickly look away from him, your features completely flustered as you found it difficult to meet his tranquil gaze. “it’s nothing! uhm…”

jinwoo lets out another rich chuckle when he puts his empty water bottle away before asking you. “have i shown you my favorite formula for algebra? i promise you, its helped me through many tough situations, and i’m sure it can help you, too.”

feeling grateful that he changed the subject, such talk of this amazing formula was enough to make your eyes go wide. “y-yes! please, show me this formula… if you don’t mind…”

jinwoo gives you a nod before leaning closer to you, taking a hold of your notebook as he opens it to a fresh page before uncapping his pen. it was then that he began writing against the lines in a neat script:

me + you = ♡

your heart rate becomes slightly erratic as your breath hitches in response. you meet with jinwoo’s gaze, seeing the look of adoration in them when he leans closer to you, not saying a word as he proved his feelings for you in a slow and sweet kiss.

you feel him smiling against your lips, causing a strange warmth to fill and course through your veins. jinwoo’s gaze never once strays too far away from you when he pulls away from you and admits, “you’ve always been on my mind. ever since the moment i first saw you, i wanted nothing more than to protect you… and keep you by my side.”

you wanted oh so desperately to tell him how much you liked him-

how you had always felt so strongly about him and basked in the way he made you feel-

but sadly, you knew that mere words alone would never be sufficient enough to convey your feelings for sung jinwoo.

so you did the next best thing-

you surge forward to capture his lips in another searing kiss, and upon hearing the way jinwoo lets out a soft growl of your name before returning your kiss, you didn’t think he minded your wordless declaration one bit.

a.n. omg i have such a block for jinwoo, but i’m trying; i’m trying so hard to balance everything and not have sylus taking over my life, currently unedited but i’ll make corrections later once this is posted 😭🙌🏻 there might be a double update since man i can’t get sylus out of my head lol ooops

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[mononijikayu]

night we met — ryomen sukuna.

Feeling the gravity of this moment, he tightened his grip on your hand. You looked down at him and smiled—a gesture that sealed his newfound faith in this bond. At that moment, Ryomen Sukuna felt as though he had been reborn. No longer just a boy lost in the festival's chaos, but a person with a role, a duty, and a place in the world. His life, from that moment forward, was to be lived for you, in devotion to the path you would guide him on. You had become his guardian, his mentor—his goddess—and he, in turn, devoted himself to be your loyal follower.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language;

masterlist

ashes of love

listen: the night we met by lord huron

note: i finally got a break after two exams. i still have one more. but i wanted to pop in and give this to you before i disappear into my books again. i hope you enjoy this little thing~ i love you~

FATHER THOUGHT THAT THERE WOULD BE MORE NEED FOR RETAINERS TO COME WITH THEM. As they navigated the bustling streets of the city, Ryomen Hiromi couldn't shake off a palpable sense of tension, despite the festive atmosphere. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated the cobblestone paths, and the air was filled with lively chatter and laughter. Yet, an underlying unease lingered—perhaps a whisper from the gods, you mused, familiar with the capricious nature of the divine. Your lips tightened into a straight line, your hand unconsciously drifting to the hilt of your sword. Beneath the surface festivity, an undercurrent of anxiety was palpable.

This might explain why your father had insisted on bringing as many men as possible. The Ryomen family was never short of loyal retainers, and Masaomi had been eager to accompany you. Your father's protective instincts weighed heavily on you, his warnings echoing in your mind. As the sole remaining heir of your distinguished family, his concerns were magnified by the elders’ incessant uproar. Though you understood the necessity of your high profile, it sometimes felt stifling.

As you continued through the lively streets, the festival's atmosphere was electrifying. Lanterns hung from every post, casting dancing lights over the faces of the revelers, each absorbed in their own joyous celebration. The air was thick with the scents of street food and a cacophony of laughter and music, creating a chaotic symphony. Yet, despite the jovial chaos, a tug of unease pulled at your consciousness.

You maintained an even pace and a neutral expression, blending seamlessly into the crowd. The presence of your uncle Hiramu was reassuring; his experienced hand rested nonchalantly on his sword, his eyes scanning the crowd with practiced vigilance. His readiness to protect offered comfort and a reminder of the ever-present potential for danger.

Ryomen Hiromi experienced the weight of the festival differently. While others were drawn into the spirit of celebration, your senses were heightened, alert to any discord. The subtle narrowing of your eyes and the stiffness in your shoulders might go unnoticed by an ordinary onlooker, but they were clear indicators of your tension. The flickering shadows cast by the lantern lights seemed to hide potential threats, and every burst of laughter could be masking whispered conspiracies.

You knew you couldn't afford to let down your guard, not when the stakes were so high. This mission was critical, especially to you, marking a step towards your heir’s role, and the weight of this responsibility was heavy on your shoulders. The festival, with its mask of tradition and celebration, might well be a veneer for more sinister undertones.

Navigating through this sea of faces, your gaze occasionally met those of strangers, your deep hazel eyes searching for any hint of recognition or malice. Being with your uncle Hiramu brought some peace, tempering the anxiety that gnawed at your heart, but the persistent unease remained. Something was amiss, and you could not yet pinpoint it. Your instincts screamed for attention, urging vigilance as the night promised to stretch long.

Reports of strange occurrences and unexplained events had been increasing, stirring unrest among the populace and reaching the ears of Lord Isamu. Typically, such critical missions would fall to your elder brother, Akimu, the designated heir tasked with maintaining the safety and stability of Hida's heartland in your father's stead. But now, with Akimu unable to lead, the weight of responsibility had shifted onto your capable yet burdened shoulders.

Each step felt heavy under the scrutinizing gaze of the moon, illuminating the bustling night with a mocking smile. You took a moment to gather your scattered thoughts, steadying the swirling emotions within. As you lifted your gaze, your eyes began to sharpen, honing in on the play of shadows cast by the lantern light, looking beyond the immediate spectacle to the hidden corners and fleeting movements that might betray underlying threats.

This mission was about more than following in Akimu's footsteps; it was about proving that Ryomen Hiromi could stand firm on uneven, unfamiliar ground. You were determined to command respect, to show that despite your gender, you were every bit the Ryomen heir as any man could be.

As you moved away from the main festivities into quieter, dimly lit parts of the town, Uncle Hiramu finally spoke, his voice low and serious, “Little niece, do you sense it too? There’s a heaviness in the air tonight. It must be what your father was speaking of.”

You nodded, your sharp gaze scanning the shadows. “Yes, I feel it. It's as if the air itself is thick with whispers of the past. There’s a disturbance, not just a vengeful spirit, I think. Something older, deeper.”

Hiramu’s eyes narrowed as he looked ahead. “We should be cautious. These kinds of spirits are often bound to old grudges or unresolved tragedies. The festival’s energy could stir it more than usual.”

You turned into a less crowded alley, where the noise of the festival faded into a distant hum. Your elegant robes brushed against the cobblestones, your attire blending traditional beauty with practicality. The layered silk of your fine kimono was dyed in deep blues and purples, embroidered with silver threads that caught the light, mimicking the night sky. Your obi was tightly cinched, supporting the small dagger hidden within—a necessity for any noble venturing into uncertain situations.

Your father insisted that you dress appropriately. It was outlandish, you supposed. The choices were far too simple for taste, unsuitable for any young beauty of such noble stock. But this was as comfortable as it was safe. Pretense of trade being your desire here in these parts, was much easier than to be quite obvious. Anything more than this would have attracted as much attention as retainers.

“Do you think it’s tied to a particular location or event?” you asked, your voice steady despite the creeping chill that seemed to cling to the edges of the night air. “It’s getting me curious…”

“It could be,” Hiramu replied, his hand never straying far from his sword. “These spiteful little cursed spirits often attach themselves to physical locations where significant emotional events occurred. We’ll need to explore the some sites around here—old battlefields, abandoned shrines, places of great loss or betrayal. Someone is deeply angry, little niece."

Your mind raced, piecing together knowledge with the clues of your current environment. “There’s an old well not far from here, sealed up after a great tragedy struck a hundred years ago during a similar festival. A fire had broken out, and many lives were lost. It was said that the well was cursed thereafter.”

Hiramu’s gaze sharpened, his lips just as sharp when he smiled. “That’s a good place to start. Lead the way, little niece.”

IT HAD TAKEN SOME TIME TO FIND THE CURSED SPIRIT. As the moon ascended, bathing the lively festival in its serene, silver luminescence, you and Uncle Hiramu pressed on with your diligent investigation. The festive air, alive with the thrum of activity and the laughter of revelers, contrasted sharply with your growing tension. Underneath the celestial glow, the reality of your mission slowly began to crystallize, taking on a new urgency as unexpected developments unfolded. It had begun with something ever so simple and from there, unpredictable fate intervened and soon enough, the chaos ensued.

The moment of realization struck you with unsettling suddenness. You patted down the side. There was nothing but panic as you looked to the side of the obi and found nothing. One look was enough to confirm that eager suspicion: the coin purse was missing. You looked up towards Uncle Hiramu. You knew that he was trying not to laugh, but his eyes were too obvious. You smacked your uncle which prompted the laugh to bellow from his belly. All you could do was mope in the silence. You supposed that it was alright. Money was not a big deal. But… your eyes widened.

Without hesitating, your eyes swept across the sea of faces swirling around you. The atmosphere was charged with the festival’s energy, yet your focus was razor-sharp. It was then that you had spotted a distinct splash of color that stood out against the earthy tones of the crowd—a young boy with striking pink hair, weaving through the crowd with the agility and desperation of someone fleeing. You looked at Hiramu, and he nodded back at you.

It was then where your instincts kicked in. You tapped your uncle's arm and started mouthing instructions as subtly as one could towards the fleeing figure. Without needing further explanation, Hiramu caught the urgency and nodded. Hiramu took the other direction as you turned to the other.

As you navigated through the dense crowd, the distance between you and the boy closed gradually, you were certain of it. You could sense Hiramu’s cursed energy with each step below against the wide battered ground. You were certain that you were ever so close to bringing a close to the night. But first, you must unravel the night's mysteries. That boy was the key.

Ryomen Hiramu wasted no time as he dashed from stall to stall, street to street. He could feel it, he could feel it too well. That overwhelming power. His seasoned body kicked into high gear, and he swiftly maneuvered through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the pink-haired boy darting through the festival, speeding through the brunt of human bodies. Hiramu cursed under his breath. The child was too clever. With each step, Hiramu's determination as he ran through a corridor of small houses clamped together—one of the poorest sects of life in the quaint area.

As he closed the gap between them, Hiramu noticed an unusual, dark shimmer around the boy—an ominous aura that seemed almost palpable in the moonlit night. This was no mere act of theft; it was clear there was something far more sinister at play. The aura surrounding the boy twisted and writhed like a living thing, a visual manifestation of deep-seated emotional turmoil. It became apparent that this child was not acting alone; he was bound to a cursed spirit, a malevolent force likely fueled by intense feelings of anger, fear, and loneliness.

The realization struck Hiramu with a harsh chill. The spirit's presence suggested that the boy's actions were not entirely his own, that he was under the influence of these dark energies that fed on negative emotions. Such spirits were known to attach themselves to vulnerable souls, magnifying their darkest thoughts and driving them to act in ways they might not otherwise, turning their inner turmoil into outward chaos. Just as he drew his sword, you turned from the corner. Ryomen Hiromi threw that heavy bound haori away, looking at Hiramu.

“Shibaru One! Binding Fate!” you exclaimed, your voice clear and commanding as streaks of luminous energy surged towards the boy. He let out a sharp cry, writhing against the ethereal chains that now ensnared him under your control.

“Be careful!” Hiramu cautioned, moving closer to assist. “He's the source, he's entwined with that cursed spirit!”

You nodded, your focus undeterred by the boy's struggles as you tightened your grip on the energy that bound him. The spectral chains glowed brighter, each pulse of light strengthening the hold over the chaotic spirit within him. Your uncle's warning echoed in your mind, reinforcing your burning resolve to act with both precision and caution.

The boy’s eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and confusion, met yours. You could see the turmoil swirling within him, the innocent caught in the grip of something far beyond his control. “Hold on, just a little longer,” you murmured, your voice a blend of firmness and reassurance intended to pierce through the haze of his panic. A faint smile blossomed from your lips. “Trust me, okay?”

Hiramu understood the gravity of the situation—they were dealing with a phenomenon that was both a danger to the boy and to all those attending the festival. The cursed spirit needed to be dealt with delicately and decisively, for the safety of the boy and the peace of the community. There were too many people here that would not understand what was going on.

There was no need to make a bigger ruckus. With this understanding, Ryomen Hiramu pressed on, his resolve hardened, knowing that he and you must act swiftly to intervene and dispel the darkness that had taken hold of the young boy.

As Hiramu closed in, the cursed spirit sensed the threat and began to lash out, manifesting as tendrils of dark energy. You, realizing the severity of the situation, knew immediate action was required. "Start the purification ritual!" Hiramu shouted over his shoulder as he dodged a swipe from the spirit. "I'll hold it off! Just go and do your job!”

You crossed the tips of your fingers, your eyes narrowing deeper into the soul of the boy. You began to chant softly, the words of an ancient purification rite falling rhythmically from your lips. The boy looked frightened by all means, as the white light did what it could, purging one dark fabric from the boy one after the other.

The air around you seemed to hum with power as your words wove through the currents of energy emanating from your firm hands. The glowing chains tightened further, and the dark aura around the boy began to dissipate, sucked away into the void created by your spell. But as with all things, it tried to keep alive.

Meanwhile, Hiramu engaged the spirit, his sword movements precise, each strike intended not to harm the boy but to distract the spirit and weaken its hold. The sound of the boy’s screams pierced through over and over again, the cursed spirit overlaying against each agonizing echo. He could see the ritual's glow intensifying, the light beginning to engulf the boy, binding and suppressing the dark energy around him.

As the ritual reached its climax, your voice rose in a powerful cadence, your tender hands outstretched towards the boy, directing the flow of purified energy. The cursed spirit writhed and howled and fought over and over, its form becoming unstable under the ritual’s influence. Sweat permeated through your sleeves, your teeth gritted, your eyes narrowed, over and over the ringing of each of your ears continued as the boy continued to fight for his life.

With a final, desperate cry, the cursed spirit dissipated, expelled in one painful grip. All of a sudden, your white cursed energy also disappeared. You gasped out loud as your shaking knees fell to the ground, weary from it all. It was the first time you had used that purification technique. But it seemed that it had finally worked. You looked at the empty depth of your palm.

Your eyes shined. You had done that. Hiramu looked at you, rushing towards you. But you stopped him, coughing as you regained air. You pointed to the boy, sprawled on the pavement. Hiramu sheathed his sword back. Soon enough, Hiramu could only lift the boy in his arms.

The boy, now freed from the spirit’s grasp, collapsed, exhausted but unharmed. He was perhaps trying to catch his breath. He must have been exhausted. You, having returned to the plane of reality, rushed to his side, your own energy spent. You were certain that there was no bigger word than relief as you eagerly confirmed that he was safe. His eyes were both soft and weary as he looked at that boy. He lifted his head at you.

Hiramu's eyes remained narrowed, the wrinkles at the corners deepening as he surveyed the scene before him. Despite the successful expulsion of the spirit, his instincts told him there was more to uncover. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight that drew your attention immediately. "Something is still not right," he said, his tone heavy with unease.

You nodded, understanding the depth of your uncle's concern. You gently placed your palm on the boy's forehead, feeling the residual heat of the ritual. "He's warm, uncle," you observed as your voice echoed tinged with worry.

"Purification techniques are painful to the body," Hiramu responded, his voice a low hum, soothing yet solemn. "It’s purging the worst of the soul, after all. Still, it must be said. You did well, little niece."

The corners of your mouth twitched into a slight smile, a rare break in your usually stern demeanor. "Such praise is rare, uncle."

Hiramu let out a soft snicker, his usual stern facade momentarily giving way to familial warmth. "I compliment you all the time," he claimed, though his smile betrayed the playfulness of his exaggeration.

"That sounds like a lie, uncle," you retorted, your weary eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection.

"Yeah, yeah," Hiramu dismissed playfully, but his attention quickly returned to the matter at hand as the boy began to stir. You blinked, taken aback by the sudden movement. You had been so focused on your exchange that the boy's awakening caught you momentarily off guard.

"What do you intend to do with this boy, niece?" Hiramu asked, his tone shifting back to the gravity of your situation. His question hung in the air, pressing you for a decision, reminding you of your responsibilities. “You’re the only one who can decide the lad’s fate.”

“Uncle—”

“You are my better, even if I am your elder and uncle.” Hiramu added, watching you become flustered as he watched the young lady shift in her position. “What do you think is right?”

You took a deep breath, your gaze shifting from Hiramu to the boy who was slowly regaining consciousness. You could see the confusion and fear flicker across his young face as he came to grips with his surroundings. He seemed disoriented, his eyes darting around, trying to make sense of what had happened to him.

Your voice rang out with a firm resolve, words carrying an air of unwavering determination. You met the older man’s gaze with a steady intensity, your expression betraying no hint of doubt. 

"We'll bring him back with us to the manor," you declared, leaving no room for argument. "I'll send word ahead to let them know."

Hiramu's response was laced with a sense of foreboding. "They won't like this," he cautioned, his words heavy with the weight of tradition and expectation. You understood exactly what he meant—the elders, with their adherence to protocol and rigid adherence to tradition, were unlikely to approve of your deviation from established norms. But your determination remained unshaken.

"That is a matter I will handle myself, uncle," you asserted, your voice steady and resolute. You were acutely aware of the potential consequences of defying the elders, but your concern for the boy's well-being outweighed any fear of reprisal. "Do not worry."

Hiramu sighed, a reluctant acknowledgment of your determination. Despite his reservations, he knew better than to stand in your way when your stubborn mind was set to its desires. 

"Very well," he conceded, his voice tinged with resignation. At that moment, he placed his trust in your judgment, knowing that you would do whatever was necessary to ensure the young boy’s safety and well-being, even if it meant challenging the traditions of your elders. “What else?”

“We might stay a day longer, to make sure that this is the only concern.” You retorted back to him, pursing your lips together in a tight line. “I shall head off and see to it that barriers are strengthened. There need not be any more situations like this one.”

“Very well. I’ll go ahead and take him to our inn.”

“Make sure he’s well fed, uncle. And that he’s alright.” 

Hiramu snickers. “You act as though I didn’t take care of you or your brother.”

"I’ll check on him when I return. We need to ensure he's truly free of any residual curse," you said tenderly towards the older man.. "We also need to understand who he is. How did he get here at all, past the barriers. And how did he get this powerful. This puzzle requires quite a bit of effort.”

Hiramu nodded in agreement, his face reflecting his approval of your thorough approach. "Very well," he replied, "We should also see if we can help him find his way. No one should be left to wander alone, much so not one who has been through such an ordeal."

You knelt beside the boy, offering a reassuring smile. "Can you tell us your name?" you asked gently, hoping to ease him into conversation.

As the boy's gaze met yours, his initially wide eyes began to soften, a subtle shift that hinted at his growing realization of safety in your presence. Despite this reassurance, he remained silent, a reaction you attributed to the lingering shock and confusion from the events he had endured. Understandingly, you accepted his quiet, knowing well that pushing him to speak before he was ready could only cause further distress.

You addressed him with a gentle, reassuring smile, your tone soft yet imbued with an underlying strength. "Take all the time you need, little boy," you encouraged, your words floating warmly in the cool air, offering him the space and time he might require to recover from his ordeal. Your smile, kind and patient, was meant to communicate that he was under no pressure to reveal anything before he felt comfortable.

Straightening up, you prepared to continue your duties, aware of the responsibilities that still awaited your attention beyond this encounter. You glanced towards your uncle, who had also been through a trying time, his vigilance unyielding as he supported your efforts. 

"Get some rest. You too, uncle," you added, acknowledging his fatigue and your appreciation for his steadfast support. "I’ll return with haste."

As you turned to leave, the boy's eyes followed your every move, wide and contemplative. In the quiet aftermath of your promise, his gaze lingered on your retreating figure, a mix of newfound trust and lingering uncertainty playing across his features.  His eyes, filled with a depth that spoke of both fear and curiosity, seemed to hold a thousand unasked questions. 

As he watched you disappear into the crowd, there was a palpable sense of wonder about whether he could find his voice, not just to speak but to share his thoughts, fears, and perhaps his hidden stories. The boy was silently grappling with the idea of opening up, of letting someone else into his secluded world.

You, aware of his watchful eyes, felt a twinge of responsibility and hope. His silent scrutiny did not go unnoticed, and it reminded you of the delicate task ahead—not just protecting him from external dangers but also nurturing his trust and confidence to the point where he would feel safe to express himself. The boy's quiet contemplation as you walked away hinted at the significant role you would play in his life, potentially being the first to hear his voice when he finally chose to speak. 

As you melded with the festivities, the distance between you growing, you carried with you the weight of his unspoken thoughts, hoping that when you returned, the boy would be ready to break his silence, allowing you into his world. Until then, he shuts his eyes. He lets the sleep take him to the nether world, where nightmares still come to follow.

HIROMI THINKS THAT SLEEP WAS ALL THAT WOULD FIX THINGS. Hiromi returned to the heart of the festival, your task of reinforcing the protective barriers around the periphery completed. Your work, involving the meticulous weaving of energy to strengthen the existing magical defenses, had left you sharp and attuned to even the slightest disturbance. The process was arduous, as you needed to locate and neutralize any lingering curses that could threaten the festival's sanctity. Each of these encounters, a dance of skill and arcane prowess, tested not only your abilities but also your mental fortitude and resolve.

The challenges were varied, ranging from minor nuisances that were swiftly dealt with, to more stubborn, malignant energies that demanded all your focus and power to dispel. Yet, you managed each with precision and control, your extensive training and natural aptitude shining through. With every curse you unraveled and every barrier you chose to further fortify. As Akimu ensured the festival grounds remained a safe haven, you would do the same. This land must always be free from the influence of dark forces.

This vigilant defense was crucial, not only to protect the attendees but to maintain the balance of energies within the festival area. Any breach could lead to chaos, potentially unleashing harm on the unsuspecting revelers. Your successful fortification of the area thus served as an invisible shield, one that allowed the festival to continue in joyous celebration without the shadow of malevolent interference.

As the sky began to lighten with the approach of dawn, you continued that prideful vigilance, keeping a watchful eye on the worshippers gathered for the festival. Amidst the joyous celebrations, you remained ever alert, scanning the crowd for any signs of disturbance or danger. It was in the stillness of the early morning hours that you noticed a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

Despite the dim light of dawn, you sensed a presence nearby, a stirring of energy that caught all of your attention. Instinctively, you turned your gaze toward the source and saw the pink-haired boy, his eyes open and alert. You approached him quietly, your movements fluid and deliberate. You could sense that something had changed, that your encounter earlier had left an impression on him. With a gentle smile, you greeted him, your voice soft but reassuring.

"Good morning," you said, your tone warm with genuine concern. "How are you feeling?"

The boy's gaze flickered between curiosity and caution as he studied you, trying to parse the intentions behind your unexpected approach. Despite the swirl of doubt clouding his young mind, there was an undeniable sense of comfort that seemed to emanate from your presence—somewhat a stability in the tumultuous sea of his current experiences. Sensing his hesitation, you understood his reticence; after all, to him, you and uncle Hiramu were nothing more than strangers who had suddenly entered his life under unusual and likely frightening circumstances.

However, you sensed a deeper narrative woven into the fabric of the boy's aura, a story that extended beyond his current fear and confusion. You were determined to unearth the role he played in the festival's strange occurrences, driven by a conviction that his involvement was not merely coincidental. This was uncharted territory, a situation that neither you nor the festival had encountered before. Yet, you believed that new challenges were always opportunities for growth and understanding, reminders that there is always a "first time" for every occurrence in life.

Respecting his silence, you chose not to press him further for answers. You recognized that trust needed to be earned, especially in such delicate circumstances. It was then, in a moment of frailty, that the boy's strength seemed to falter, his body leaning as if he might collapse. Reacting swiftly, you stepped forward, kneeling to catch him, your movements guided by a blend of concern and readiness to support him.

As he rebounded slightly, stabilized by your quick intervention, he blinked up at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and bewilderment. In that brief exchange of looks, a silent understanding began to form. Your actions spoke louder than any words could have; they conveyed a promise of protection and empathy, laying the groundwork for a trust that might soon allow the boy to share his story and perhaps reveal the mysteries surrounding the events that had drawn you all together.

As you extended your hand toward him, he hesitated momentarily before his eyes blinked in a mix of confusion and curiosity. Observing his uncertainty, you offered him a tender smile, softening your expression to ease his apprehension.

"Are you alright, young one?" you asked, your voice low and soothing, cutting through the noise of the surrounding festivities.

In that moment, the boy found himself unexpectedly captivated by your presence. There was something almost ethereal about you, a radiance that seemed to emanate from within, casting a gentle, enchanting glow in the soft light of the festival’s lanterns—ones which still light up the dark morning glory. Your form appeared haloed by this light, lending you an otherworldly grace that was both comforting and awe-inspiring.

Your eyes, warm and inviting, seemed to draw him in further. They were deep pools of compassion and understanding, reaching out to him across the void of his own confusion and fear. As your eyes met, he felt a profound connection; it was as though you could see into the very depths of his soul, understanding his fears and yearnings without a word spoken.

The world around both of you seemed to pause, creating a bubble of serenity amidst the chaos. To the boy, this wasn’t just a simple meeting; it was a pivotal moment that would redefine his understanding of safety and hope. Even before he knew your name, Hiromi, he saw in you not just a protector or a higher power, but a guiding light, a beacon of hope illuminating his darkened world.

"What's your name?" you inquired gently, noticing his silence but undeterred by it.

When he remained mute, your smile broadened, radiating kindness and patience. "It’s okay if you have no name," you reassured him, your voice a soft anchor in his stormy sea of thoughts.

Upon hearing this, he looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of amazement and relief. Here was someone offering not just help, but a place and a presence in the world.

"I’ll give you one." you promised, a simple offer that nonetheless promised him a new beginning, a sense of identity and belonging that he had long craved. This simple gesture of naming was more than a label; it was a gift of a new life and a fresh start under your protective gaze.

You smile warmly at him, feeling the weight of the moment as you prepare to give him a name—a simple yet profound gift that could anchor him to a new beginning. When you smile at him, he thinks he found heaven. monsters like him do not deserve heaven. Yet the goddess you were, embraced him in the warmth of tender night. Names were important. In the family, it was.  Sensing the importance of the choice, you think carefully, choosing a name rich with strength and history. The family histories had such good names to choose from, you think.

"Would the name Ryomen Sukuna suffice for you?" you ask gently, observing his reaction to gauge whether it resonates with him. “Now that you are with us, you will gain two lives. The past and now the future. Will you accept it, little one?”

The boy looks up, his eyes widening slightly as he processes the name. It's clear he is unfamiliar with its origins or meanings, but there is an undeniable flicker of intrigue in his gaze. Ryomen Sukuna, a name that carries echoes of a mystic and power to it. Entirely opposite of what he had known. The boy, now Sukuna, thinks this could imbue him with a sense of might and courage, perhaps reflecting the new path he might choose to follow under your guidance. And then, maybe then, he can serve you. With this new name.

For a moment, he remains silent, contemplating the name, rolling it over in his mind. Then, slowly, a tentative smile begins to form on his lips. It seems to suit him, or at least, he is willing to step into the mantle it could offer.

"Ryomen Sukuna," he repeats softly, testing how the name feels as it comes out of his mouth. His voice is unsure at first, but with each repetition, he seems to grow more comfortable, more accepting of it.

Seeing his acceptance, your smile broadens. "Yes, Ryomen Sukuna," you confirm with a nod, affirming his new identity. "It’s a strong name, one that I believe can help guide you to become whoever you wish to be."

The boy nods, a sense of new identity beginning to settle within him. The name, though ancient, now starts a new chapter in his life, one filled with potential and promise. You extend your hand to him once more, this time as a gesture of warmth. A future worth looking forward to.

"Now, you must be hungry, Sukuna," you suggest warmly, ready to introduce him back into the celebration, not as an orphan lost amidst chaos but as a newly named participant with a protector by his side. “There’s still some stalls open. Some are not yet done with the festival. Do you want something to eat?”

He looks at you for a moment and then tenderly nods. As he takes your hand, his grip is firm, and his initial hesitance seems to wash away with the rising sun. Together, you walk back towards the heart of where the fullness of the festival had been, your steps synchronized. Ryomen Sukuna, newly named and newly empowered, walks beside you, no longer just a passive spectator but a young boy with a nascent but growing sense of belonging and purpose.

Your role as his protector, and now the giver of his name, has created a bond between you, one that promises not only safety but also a future filled with the potential for transformation. As you both step into the bustling festival, the early morning light casts long shadows, yet for Sukuna, illuminated by the glow of the lanterns and buoyed by your supportive presence, the world seems less intimidating.

You had given him a name, securing a place for him in this chaos—a gesture simple yet profound. This act forged a tentative bond, knitting a fragile sense of belonging into his young heart. And now, for the first time, he truly belonged somewhere. On this transformative night, his heart was full of nothing but hope. He had a name—a name that was uniquely his, one his mother had never given him.

As you walked side by side, he looked up at you with eyes shining with admiration. Sukuna adored his new name, not just for its sound or its meaning, but because it was a gift from you. It symbolized a new beginning, a sign of your faith in him. In that simple name, he found a deep sense of identity and purpose. He hoped beyond hope that this newfound connection would last.

Feeling the gravity of this moment, he tightened his grip on your hand. You looked down at him and smiled—a gesture that sealed his newfound faith in this bond. At that moment, Ryomen Sukuna felt as though he had been reborn. No longer just a boy lost in the festival's chaos, but a person with a role, a duty, and a place in the world. His life, from that moment forward, was to be lived for you, in devotion to the path you would guide him on. You had become his guardian, his mentor—his goddess—and he, in turn, devoted himself to be your loyal follower.

This rebirth was not just about a new name but a whole new existence shaped by the promise of guidance and protection under your watchful care. As the festival carried on around you, with its myriad lights and shadows, Sukuna walked confidently by your side, secure in his new identity and the journey ahead.

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 4

Last episode ended with Simon coming home to a smashed window, this episode starts the morning after, Simon takes the bus to school, while Wilhelm is anxiously waiting for him.

Culture: At a high school level in Sweden, there's national tests in Swedish, English, and Math. Like everywhere else, the purpose of these tests is not only to grade students, but to align all schools across the country to combat grade inflation.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent is trying to cheat by looking at Nils' answers.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent draws a dick in the gravel while waiting for the others to be done with the test.

Subtext: This entire episode is overflowing with examples of privilege. For Vincent, and many other rich kids like him, studying and learning doesn't matter, they'll graduate regardless, so he doesn't care about the exam, he only cares about the graduation party.

Cinematography: Even with Felice and friends being completely blurred out in the background, you can still see Stella and Fredrika turning to look at Sara, and then turning their backs on her.

Culture: In the US, a lot of people are using "socialism" as a catch-all phrase which means politics they don't agree with, regardless of its actual ideology. Likewise, in Sweden, a lot of people use "communist" in the same way about generally left-wing politics, which is what Vincent is doing here.

Subtext: Wilhelm asks Simon if he can reconcile the conflict of dating a royal while being anti-monarchy, but the real question is of course if Wilhelm can reconcile the conflict in himself.

Subtext: This is where the show's political stance shines through, and this argument, that Wilhelm wasn't allowed to choose his life for himself, is the main argument they're gonna use in the finale.

Subtext: Wilhelm is weakly defending the monarchy, but just ends up repeating what his mother told him; it's a privilege, not a punishment, but does he believe it himself?

Subtext: The letter-to-yourself plot is mainly there in order to help August along his redemption arc, but here the show is using it to reinforce the point of the previous scene. Who does Wilhelm want to become? Does he have a choice?

Culture: In Sweden, Säkerhetspolisen, SÄPO, is the government agency in charge of national security, which includes providing security and assigning bodyguards to the royal family.

Subtext: Note the great use of passive voice here by Farima to avoid taking responsibility for the decision to force August to join the birthday foundation event. She's also expertly bargaining with Wilhelm to get what she wants.

Subtext: We know it was the far-right assholes who posted comments to Simon's videos a couple of episodes ago.

Blink and you miss it: Jan-Olof really perks up when Linda talks about moving to Gothenburg, because that would probably mean the end to the relationship between Wilhelm and Simon, which would solve all of his current problems.

Subtext: Like Farima, he bargains with Linda and Simon to get what he wants, for Simon to stop posting things to social media. It's almost as if their strategy was to do nothing at the start, waiting for things to blow up so they could swoop in, help out, and start making demands in exchange...

Blink and you miss it: The option to inactivate and hide your social media account is right there, but of course Simon has to choose to delete everything, because it will cause more drama and anguish.

Blink and you miss it: Fencing! Woohoo! I did fencing for five years as a kid until 8th grade or something, but I only did foil, and not épée like these students. I have absolutely no idea where these two are coming from or going to though, where would they practice? Is there a hidden fencing hall somewhere on the grounds that we haven't seen yet? How many kids at Hillerska are fencing? Also, he's carrying a practice blade and not an electric competition blade, so that checks out. Of the three types of modern fencing, épée is unique in that the entire body counts as a valid target, while in foil only the torso counts, and in sabre only the upper half counts. Oh wow, it looks like the gear is now wireless and every fencer carries their own indicator lights. Cool! Back in my day you had to be strapped in with a cord for competitions.

This tumblr is now about French School fencing. Allez! Touché!

Subtext: The narrative is that it's perfectly ok for the crown prince to be gay, as long as he's not gay gay.

Culture: The show keeps saying this, but in real world Sweden it's no longer the case. Supporting los jibbities is viewed as a completely mainstream and inoffensive opinion, on par with supporting human rights in general.

Subtext: Another example of privilege is being in a position to do a lot of good, and then just not caring about it. Simon is fighting for the causes he believes in, so seeing Wilhelm just casually throw it away is extremely disappointing for him.

Subtext: Unlike Vincent, August is actually a natural leader, someone people listen to, which is why he manages to quiet down the room when Vincent is unable to. Maybe a good quality in a future king?

Subtext: Simon is continuing the argument from before. Wilhelm could have shown solidarity with mental health causes or LGBT causes, but chose not to. However, he immediately decided to join in solidarity with the other rich kids protesting the school rules, which is rather selfish.

Subtext: Colour theory! Sara in purple, because part of the reason she's back at school is that August asked her to? And Simon in yellow, because he sure isn't loving Wilhelm very much right now.

Subtext: Just a reminder that Sara has actually been completely out of the loop since the end of season 2. She has no idea about the school rules, what's happened at home, how it's going with Simon and Wilhelm, or what's happening at school.

Blink and you miss it: Fredrika is so close to stop striking as soon as she's threatened with repercussions.

Subtext: I keep hammering this point home: The culture is in the walls, it's not something some of the kids made up. The visiting alumni were also hazed as new students and kept it going as third years. Same for the parents of all these kids. They're all part of the system, they all kept the cycles of abuse going, because they want the school to be like that.

Subtext: Privilege is thinking you can get things your way with almost no effort. None of these kids have ever struggled or protested something for real and then not been given what they wanted, so they seriously believed they'd win immediately.

Subtext: Another theme of this season is bringing secrets out in the open. We've all seen August struggling with body dysmorphia and an eating disorder since season 1, but no-one has ever called it out and put words on it, until Simon immediately recognizes it and calls it out.

Subtext: ...while the rich kids are just stuck in denial, because eating disorders is for poor people or something, it's not something that happens to them. And if it did, you certainly wouldn't admit it to anyone else.

Subtext: August tries to jokingly fend off Nils because he doesn't want anyone to know that the letter actually meant something to him, until Nils pushes too hard, and August punches him.

Subtext: Vincent talked a big game about striking in solidarity, but when they're caught as hilariously unprepared as they are, they're not pooling their resources in solidarity with each other, and instead resort to selling them to the highest bidder. Capitalism in a nutshell, illustrated perfectly by the behaviour of spoiled rich kids. Also, pet peeve, the English word for the currency of Sweden is "kronor", not "crowns".

Lost in translation: They're actually repeating a single word in Swedish, "svikare", which is pretty hard to translate. The verb, "svika", is a bit worse than letting someone down, but not as bad as betraying someone. The adjective, "besviken" typically means disappointed. So "svikare" means a person who is letting other people down, disappointing them, or betraying them.

Subtext: The culture is in the walls of the place, but the kids are also pretty damn complicit in continuing all the shitty traditions. This looks like a game of strip poker or truth or dare that went off the rails and just resulted in more bullying, with everyone joining in.

Subtext: The other girls are upset with Felice because she broke the code. You don't snitch to outsiders, you don't tell the truth, you keep up appearances.

Blink and you miss it: Henry won the potato chip auction, happily ate the entire bag, and passed out in a chair, clutching the bag. Mmmm, sourcream and onion.

Subtext: Speaking of closing ranks towards the outside, this also applies to this strike. It would be bad PR for the school if anyone outside found out that it happened, so it's better to solve it quietly and discreetly. Vanessa can trust the kids not to snitch. Vincent is also right, the parents, who are paying the tuition fees, are on their side.

Subtext: Felice can't be seen talking to Sara, so she checks that the coast is clear, and then drags Sara into a private bathroom to have their conversation.

Subtext: Likewise, Sara was probably Felice's first real friend.

Subtext: Nice little foreshadowing. I would have loved seeing Simon's drawing though!

Subtext: Well, he could have just made his social media private, but the show has to maximize the drama, so here we are, piling on more examples of how Simon is losing himself to the monarchy, that maybe he can't reconcile the conflict.

Subtext: Erik spent three years living at Hillerska, of course he wouldn't have told his then twelve year old kid brother about all the shit going on at the school. August spent an entire year living with Erik at the school, seeing what went on first hand, so of course he knows a side of Erik that Wilhelm doesn't.

Subtext: August has been trying to keep his mouth shut and avoid Wilhelm, but since they have yet another fight, he decides to drop the bomb about Erik to hurt Wilhelm.

Subtext: Again, the culture is in the walls. This is not something that only Erik's class did, once. It's probably been happening to all the boys for decades. It happened to the current second-year students, it happened to Erik, and lots of students before him who kept this shitty initiation tradition going.

Culture: Let's talk about the gay porn hazing a bit more. To me, this is an urban legend. I heard about it when I was a teenager back in the 90's, but I don't personally know anyone it happened to, or anyone who did it to anyone else. It was always hearsay, it happened to a friend of a friend's brother, or a classmate's cousin's friend or something similar, as is typical of urban legends.

Let's also make one thing absolutely clear: It doesn't work. The homophobic idea behind this shit is that if you are forced to watch gay porn and get a boner, you are gay, and if you don't, you're straight. But that is actually not true, erections don't work that way, and the fear of being found out is quite the boner killer. Also, what if you like guys, but the guys in the porno aren't your type? There's just so many ignorant misconceptions behind this idea.

I've also seen a lot of fan comments that keep playing into this ignorance; that the only reason Nils decided to stop the tradition was because he obviously failed it. Or that the only reason August is against it is because he failed, and the only reason he failed is because he's secretly not straight. No. Remember that the test doesn't work. Nils probably passed, despite actually being gay. August might have failed, despite being completely straight. Regardless of what happened, they both found it humiliating, and that is why they made a pact to stop it.

[da-janela-lateral]

Aaaaa I wish I could make some art to accompany this post, but I can't do so in the moment and I really want to express my "post-epilogue Mob and Tsubomi friendship" thoughts. LONG text below.

They start talking some time after Confession Arc, but their bond actually begins after Tsubomi moves from Seasoning City. She enjoys having someone to tell her how things are going on her hometown, as she didn't keep in touch with all of her school friends and misses how life was in Seasoning. This helped her to get more used to this drastic change on routine.

It was... awkward on the start. Mob had to process that Tsubomi was nothing like the perfect concept that lived on his head, besides the fact that she was upset by people idealizing her (its not nice to know you're part of the problem). Tsubomi on the other hand needed to shut down her slight suspicion built with the experience of bad rejection aftermaths and trust in Mob's intentions. After all, he was her good childhood friend

It doesn't take much for them to get over this, though. Mob comes to care a lot for the real Tsubomi and makes an active effort to know her better. This flawed, human Tsubomi was different, but she was a dear person to him and so it wasn't an issue. Tsubomi is relieved to see Mob's desire to become her friend was genuine (and feels a little bad for doubting). She was glad to get back in touch with him after so such a long time and got impressed with how much he had matured without her noticing. In a way, she also used to see him as that little boy from years ago...

They talk to each other by phone almost daily, speaking of how was their day and sending random stuff. If anything happens, they sure would inform the other.

Mob discovers she likes the yellow cat plush and keeps showing her cats he saw. Tsubomi tries to read some of his favorite manga to understand what he is talking about.

Tsubomi got overwhelmed with how much her school life changed in her new city. She was very happy to not being treated as a deity, but also wasn't used to being a common student. Mob helps her to become adjusted to a normal life and stop wearing the mask she was forced to use in Salt Mid. He understands how weird it is like to be your own vulnerable, true self next to others.

In exchange, Tsubomi's experience proves to be very valuable when Mob gets more attention from his peers and has to face social situations he never participated of before. Parties are stressing. She too recognizes he is still learning to express himself and is happy to see how he opens up with her.

Althought Tsubomi learns to be more authentic over time, she still struggles with demanding too much of herself. She panicked after thinking she didn't do good in her exams, and Mob spends an hour explaining that she isn't special and how its bad to expect she'll be flawless all the time. Besides that, her skills shouldn't define her worth as a person, as she is much more than her results. Tsubomi remembers this.

Mob often asks for Tsubomi's opinion. Sure, Reigen is still his go-to for advice, but some topics are more comfortable to talk with someone his age. Mob really values Tsubomi's confident honesty and her practical, direct solutions. He also feels safe talking with her because he knows that despite being blunt, she wouldn't say anything to hurt him.

They visit each other occasionally when they're on high school! The train rides are quite long, though, so most times it's more practical to invite more people and have a sleepover. Mob and Tsubomi's respective friends know the other pretty well.

[stellar-haikyuu]

sorry if my rambling is not cohesive, but MAN i have so much to thank haikyuu for. hinata shoyo, in particular.

the first time i watched haikyuu, i remember that although i loved hinata, he gave me a lot of second-hand embarrassment (god forbid i accidentally get an authority figure's wig blown off). i loved his drive and passion, but i felt all twisty inside whenever he got humbled or criticized. i felt uncomfortable whenever he'd start rivalries with other players out of nowhere. but it was the s2 and s4 training camp arcs that made me realize why i felt that way; hinata was the embodiment of someone i was afraid to be.

it didn't help that i started haikyuu during the last month of my last semester. it was just one humbling moment after another. i made a fool of myself during a practical exam. i kept coming to my classes and exams late. i could barely study and write papers with the same energy i used to. i delayed and eventually discontinued promising projects. i just felt defeated, that i was not as gifted, smart, or competent as everyone made me out to be. i was so so close to giving up, but watching hinata's journey somehow turned me back around.

i hated being embarrassed. i hated sucking at things i thought i could/want to be good at. i hated the thought of other people saying negative things about me, whether those are rumors or factual statements. but all this made me do was run away, stay afraid, and miss out on things that could have helped me grow.

hinata though? he realizes his weaknesses, and actively finds ways to improve himself in the training arcs. every lightbulb moment and added skill is a middle finger to everyone who underestimated him. he reflects on the valid criticism that is given to him, even if it's hard to hear. he is successful because he has the right mindset that helps him through whatever life throws at him.

since i'm starting clinical internship soon, i'm so glad that hinata (and the entirety of haikyuu, really) brought back positivity into my life. even though the uncertainty terrifies me, i am so excited and grateful for all the learning opportunities i'll have. even if i make some mistakes, receive harsh criticism, or have a hard time, it is not the end for me. i won't lose my potential just like that.

anyway, i won't be playing volleyball anytime soon, but i suppose this is my "little giant" moment. hinata, you are so loved. thank you. <3

EDIT: hello to everyone who liked and reblogged this (or are about to), thank you for all the notes! i didn't expect this to blow up at all. hearts out to everyone who's in the same boat right now. i'm wishing you all the best! <3 also, i just attended an internship seminar about resilience, mindset, and goal-setting. i realized that hinata has what's called a growth mindset! it's worth looking up if you haven't ^-^

[burquillos]

Thats cool that you prefer dkbk! I always thought bkdk matched their personality's better. Ive always wondered why some think dkbk fits better, which is again cool that you like that more! My point of view is katsuki always wanting to be number one, his dominant personality, his soft side he shows to izuku, and izuku being more submissive to katsuki specifically. Sure in battle he can be scary but he goes all soft when they are safe. What do you like about dkbk?

IM SCRAPPING THE ESSAY (for now cause I feel like it will remain unfinished until MHA ends and I have every single info)

But seeing Katsuki cry in the latest chapter unlocked a (relatively) shorter, dkbk specific answer for me: I just like seeing Katsuki being vulnerable and I like seeing Izuku feeling like he's worthy of seeing that vulnerability.

Katsuki's dominance is in part because he's a perfectionist and strives to be the best. People have expectations for him but he has even higher expectations for himself and he usually breaks beneath its weight. Has been since the sludge incident, Deku getting into UA, getting kidnapped, ending All Might etc. etc. Point is that, for me, his dominance feels more like a hindrance for him than anything else. I mean his whole arc IS about learning to Save to Win and throughout the 2nd war arc we see him shining in that supportive role he has learned to accept and he finally feels like he's free.

So when I saw him genuinely cry his heart out in front of Izuku in that hospital bed, my brain goes "Finally, Katsuki crying without hiding behind aggression and dominance like he did back in the Bakugo's Starting Line chapter and Deku vs Kacchan 2"

For Izuku's part, he's always dealt with being not enough from the very beginning, mostly cause he compared himself to Katsuki and why "envy" was one of All Might's description of him during the practical exam. First he wasn't enough to be a hero because he was quirkless. Then he got his quirk and he wasn't even decent at using it. Then he got the whole weight of a legacy thrust upon him and some of the users didn't even deem him worthy. Only up until recently did he stop thinking of himself as just a vessel of OFA but as a full pledged hero.

Izuku has envied Kacchan's dominance and his strength to win. His whole arc was about learning to Win to Save but he's so internally messed up about it cause he doesn't feel like it fits people's perception of him. That's why he goes "it's stupid and gross and I literally can't say this to your face but you're my image of victory even if those bad habits of yours are supposed to be something I am expected to dislike" and I want him so badly to reconcile with that part of himself.

So again, when Katsuki falls apart in his hands, when his image of victory comes crying to him and bearing his heart out, I think "Maybe he will finally feel reliable enough, strong enough, for this amazing person to unravel himself before him and trust him to hold him tight"

And that's about it for my MHA 424 revelation 😅I hope you have a good read 😅😅

[howlingday]

Y'know what? I'd think i'd be pretty funny if Cinder forgot and/or didn't care to lear Jaune's name

EX:

Cinder: Ruby. Weiss. Blake. Yang

Cinder, squinting at Jaune while trying to remember his name: ...Jacob

Cinder: Nora. Ren

Cinder: All of you are gathered here today to witne-

Jaune: My name is Jaune

Cinder: That's what I said, Josh. As I was sayin-

Jaune: My name is JAUNE!

Cinder: Whatever you say John.

Jaune: RRRRAAAGHH

Cinder: Emerald, who was that young hell-fighter?

Emerald: Jaune Arc, ma'am.

Cinder: Arc, eh? I'll remember that name...

"Cinder did not remember that name"

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

Cinder: Who is that honor student, Emerald?

Emerald: Jaune Arc, ma'am.

Cinder: Arc, eh? How odd. My research specifically calls him out as an academic failure!

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

Cinder: Hm~. Who is that bathroom ballroom dancer, Emerald?

Emerald: Jaune Arc, ma'am. One of the... Pokémon card trainers from Beacon's first year.

Cinder: Well, he's certainly got a foot loose or two~! Perhaps I've found someone who's hotfoot enough to dance with me?

Emerald: Oh, his foot isn't as hot as yours, ma'am. You've never lost a dance competition! Except for that time when you let Mercury win on his dad's birthday. It was very sweet of you, ma'am.

Cinder: Oh, he just looked so sad, Emerald. With his, "Oh... My dad used to hit my feet with a steel pipe like that..."

Emerald: (Giggles)

Cinder: Hm... I wonder if this Jaunem Arcury shares any relation.

Emerald: Unlikely, ma'am. They spell and pronounce their names differently.

Cinder: Bah! Arrange a game and I'll ask her myself!

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

Cinder: Excelsior to you, Mr...

Cinder: (Whispering) Emerald, what's the name of this lounge lizard?

Emerald: Jaune Arc, ma'am. One of your Baby-Alives from Beacon's first year.

Cinder: Yes! Arc~!

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

Cinder: I'm sure your replacement will be able to handle everything. Who is he, anyways?

Emerald: Uh, Jaune Arc, ma'am. One of your Target Practices from Beacon's first year. All of the recent events of your life revolved around him in some way.

Cinder: Arc, eh?

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

ATTENTION! FIRST YEAR PROBLEM ON TEAM JNPR!

Cinder: Team JNPR?! Good god, who's the team leader there?!

Emerald: (Typing into scroll) Uh, Jaune Arc, ma'am.

Cinder: Arc, eh? Good man? Intelligent?

Emerald: Uh, actually, ma'am, he was enrolled on a dare by Professor Ozpin.

Cinder: Oh, well, thank you very much, Salem!

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

Jaune: You know what I think of this exam?! (Rips) This! (Rips) And this! (Wipes butt) And some of this!

Cinder: Who is that champion of injustice, Emerald?

Emerald: That's Jaune Arc, ma'am.

Cinder: Arc, eh? New man?

Emerald: (Chuckles) Actually, ma'am, he thwarted your campaign for Fall Maiden. You shot his partner. He saved Beacon from falling. His teammate, Nora, painted you in the nude.

Cinder: Hm... Are you sure? I think I'd remember all that.

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

Emerald: Oh, god, he's being dropped into the Deathstalker nest!

Cinder: The fuck's a Deathstalker?

Jaune Dummy: (Perforated repeatedly, Scrapped into a heap)

Cinder: ...Emerald. Who was that corpse?

Emerald: Jaune Arc, ma'am. (Sniffles) One of the finest, bravest first year ever to bless at Beacon Academy~! (Sobs)

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

Jaune: (Walking down the hall, Hallucinating)

Cinder: Emerald, who is that idiot?.

Cinder: Emerald, who is that doofus?.

Cinder: Who is that fashion disaster?.

Cinder: Who is that deadweight?.

Cinder: Mushbrain!.

Cinder: Dorkus Maximus!.

Cinder: Dirtstain!.

Cinder: Goofball!.

Cinder: Sextant-deficiency!.

Jaune: STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT!

Cinder: LOOK OUT!.

Jaune: Huh? (Falls off cliff) AAAAAAAAAAA

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

Jaune: (Chuckles)

Cinder: (Opens office door, Sees graffiti)

I AM JAUNE ARC

Cinder: ...And who in Salem's name are you?

Jaune: RRRGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Jaune: (Shakes Cinder) JAUNE ARC! JAUNE! ARC! JAUNEARC! JAUNE ARC! MY NAME IS JAUNE ARC!

Jaune: (Pulled off, Dragged away) Oh, you're dead, Cinder. You're dead! YOU'RE DEAD, CINDER!

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

Cinder: I've decided to start carrying my weapon closely after I was assaulted last night by an unknown assailant.

Jaune: (Distant) DAMMIT!

[telekineticseance]

STUDY BUDDIES

pairing: ted logan x afab! reader

summary: your teacher gives you the assignment of tutoring one of the dumbest kids in school

genre: smut

word count: 1895

cw: p in v, dick riding

author’s note: this is mainly for @animulnitrate because they asked so nicely and they're my roomie so i can't say no

“Help out Ted Logan? The guy who thinks Joan of Arc is Noah’s wife?” You asked your teacher, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You were usually fine with tutoring others but when it came to Ted Logan, it was a lost cause. He barely knew basic math, spending hours with him trying to teach him history would be a nightmare.

“Yes..I know it’ll be hard at first but he needs to pass this exam or else he’s not passing the year and he’ll have to repeat a grade.” Mr.Ryan, your history teacher, explained to you He knew how bad Ted was and Ted’s best friend Bill was just as bad. You couldn’t imagine being in his shoes and having to teach not one of them, but both of them, at the same time. You let out a sigh of agreement and nodded before walking out of the class running into Ted at the end of the hallway.

“Whoa hey there Dudette! Gotta watch where you’re going.” He said, his hands holding onto your arms as he looked down at you with a grin on his face. You scoffed slightly at him while rolling your eyes and brushing his hands away. “Look Logan, I’ve been given the task of tutoring you tonight in preparation for your exam.”

Ted chuckled while nodding his head, his hair bouncing in the process, “Well alright! Alone time with a babe like you? I’m so down!” You hid back a giggle, as he smiled down at you. “Uh yeah..right. So do you want to study at your place?” You asked him.

“My place sounds sick!” You nodded as he gave you his address and the two of you parted ways before you went to the rest of your classes.

—

You walked up the steps to Ted’s front door and knocked gently, while holding onto the bag on your shoulder with your other hand. You heard footsteps run down the stairs before a loud bang on the door and the door opened revealing a disheveled Ted with one of those grins on his face, “My savior! Come in.” He said, moving to the side so you can walk in. You walk past him, looking around at the decorations, expecting to see something the total opposite than the preppy vibes you were viewing.

Ted lightly grabbed your arm and led you up the stairs, “Come on we can go to my room!” He ran up the stairs with you closely behind before leading you to a bedroom which was a lot more like you expected. The bed was unmade with posters plastered in random spots all over the walls of different movies and rock bands. Including some homemade posters of something called Wyld Stallyns. He stood in front of you throwing his arms in the air, “Presenting tu casa!”

You paused looking at him, “Actually..” You started before he dropped his hands and raised his eyebrow and you stopped, “Nevermind. Yes this is tu casa.” He grinned while nodding again before sitting down on his bed with a plop and you took your bag off your shoulder, sitting next to him before pulling out books. You sat your history book in your lap, opening it to a page before turning to him, “Okay so I thought I would start with the beginning and then just going through at whatever pace is more comfortable for you?” You asked him, looking over as he looked down at the book in your lip while nodding.

As the two of you looked through the book, Ted would inch closer to where your legs would be touching and you’d scoot away a little more. He would also move his hand close to yours as you held the pages open, lightly stroking his pinky against your hand in the process. Every time he’d try you would awkwardly clear your throat and move away from him, but he’d just go back to trying. Eventually Ted took a deep breath before looking at you, “You know…you’re quite the babe.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him as he grinned that same grin he’s had practically all night. “Thank..you?” His eyes widened a little bit and he shifted his position to look at you more, “No what I meant was you’re bodacious! Uh..a sight to see! Hot!” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle at his actions, he wasn’t smart but you did think he was cute at times. He blushed slightly, looking back down at the book, pointing at a picture of Napoleon, “Who’s the guy with the funny hat?”

You started to tell him the history of Napoleon Bonaparte and the French Revolution as he listened closely, nodding while you talked. Eventually you were interrupted by Ted moving in close, kissing you deeply. Your eyes widened as you pulled away and looked at him, “Oh I’m sorry.” He apologized, putting his hand over his mouth. You sat there in shock before leaning in and kissing him yourself. He slowly moved his hand up to your arms, stroking them as the two of you kissed. Your hands gripped onto the black vest he was always wearing as you deepened the kiss.

He pulled away, his lips a dark shade of pink from the kiss as he looked down at you, “Whoa.” He grinned as he slowly opened his eyes, almost as if he were in a trance. You felt your face heat up as you nodded. He bit his bottom lip slightly looking in your eyes, as his hand lightly stroked your cheek.  “Can we do that again?” He asked gently, leaning closer again. You nodded, caressing his cheek before kissing him again. You repositioned yourself, letting the history book fall to the floor as you sat in front of him on your knees.

Both of your hands were on the sides of his face, while his hands moved to your waist. Your tongue explored his mouth as he let out a few hums during the kiss. You slipped off the vest from his torso, and started to pull at his shirt before he put his hands on yours, pulling away. “I can’t.” He whispered against your lips. You pulled your hands away and distanced yourself from him, “Oh.”

“No no I want to,” He corrected before thinking for a minute, “But I just…I wouldn’t know what to do.” He mumbled, looking down at his lap, picking at one of the patches on his shorts. Did he mean? You lifted his face, looking into his eyes, “Have you done anything like this before?” He shook his head, looking into your eyes. You thought for a minute before moving close to him, “I can teach you..if you’d want.”

He smiled as he looked at you, “You would?” You nodded slowly as he nodded back, “Okay!” You giggled while rolling your eyes playfully before kissing him again, leaning him back against the headboard. You straddled his lap, moving your hands to start pulling off the shirt again. He moved his hands to your waist, pulling you close to him. Your hands moved to your own shirt, pulling it over your head as Ted watched, his eyes widening once he saw you in your bra. His gaze lingered on your chest, “Do you want me to take this off too?” You asked him, tracing your fingers along the lace of your bra. He gulped, nodding slowly as you unclasped your bra, pulling it off and putting it next to the two of you.

His eyes stayed focused on your chest, as you felt his length growing against your crotch. You bit your bottom lip before Ted leaned in, placing wet kisses on your chest before placing his lips on your nipple. Lightly sucking and biting on it, causing you to let out a moan. Your fingers tangled into his hair before he pulled away and looked up at you, “Is this okay?” You nodded slowly and he moved his mouth to your other nipple before repeating the process.

You moved your hips, grinding your crotch against his. He pulled his mouth away, letting out a breath of air while closing his eyes tight from the feeling. He looked up at you, his lids barely open. You bit your bottom lip before removing yourself from his lip and starting to pull off his shorts. You were slightly confused from the layering he was doing as when you pulled down the shorts, he had a pair of gray sweats on underneath. He bit his bottom lip, “They’re comfier than boxers.” He said softly.

You nodded, pulling down the sweats, revealing his growing length. He bit his bottom lip when he noticed you staring. He was definitely above average and you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger. You slowly pulled off your panties from underneath your skirt and threw them onto the floor before straddling Ted’s lap again. You could see the sweat beads from his forehead as he looked up at you, “Are you sure you want this?” You asked him, your hand caressing his face. He nodded slowly, “I-I’m just nervous. You’re really really pretty.”

You giggled slightly at him before kissing him deeply, moving your to the base of his cock, stroking him gently. He let out a gasp into the kiss, followed by a soft groan. You positioned the tip to your throbbing clit before lowering yourself down, He buried his head into your chest, letting out a small whimper as you continued moving your hips against him. He leaned his head back against the headboard, biting his bottom lip as you slid up and down on his length.

A mixture of moans and whimpers escaped his lips as you continued moving, rocking your hips in the process. You dug your nails into his chest, as his grip tightened on your hips. He thrusted his hips up causing you to let out a moan, throwing your head back in pleasure. Ted opened his eyes partially, watching you before leaning back and starting to kiss on your chest again, leaving marks all the way from your neck down.

Your hips moved in sync with one another as you felt Ted’s stomach tighten from underneath you before his eyebrows furrowed, “I-I’m cl- hmm.” He interrupted his sentence with a hum, throwing his head back against the headboard once more. You leaned down and pressed your lips to his once you felt yourself starting to reach your own high. Ted let out a small gasp as you felt his tip twitch , the two of you releasing at the same time. You rode out your high, practically sinking onto his chest, feeling the energy evaporate from your body. Ted’s face was flushed a deep shade of pink and his hair was sticking to his forehead from the sweat. You pulled yourself off of him, sitting on the bed next to him while processing the events that just happened.

“That was..” You started, “Excellent?” Ted said, looking at you.

You giggled slightly in response, “Sure. Let’s go with excellent.”

“Can we do it again?” He asked, his hand snaking around your waist as he buried his face in your neck. You nodded, knowing the two of you probably wouldn’t be getting much more tutoring done for the night.

[atzjieun]

one last day

summary | jieun gets some helpful advice the day before she debuts 

circa | october 23, 2018

contains | 1.3k words, depictions of anxiety, self-doubt and general fears about the future, cute jihong interactions

note | the final installment in the origin arc is finally here !! and probably the last predebut scenario for a while :”) thank you for everyone who’s enjoyed jieun so far and shown her love <3

The cold breeze nipped at Jieun’s skin, the girl shivering as she rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms. She should’ve grabbed a jacket before she came out here, but in hindsight, there were a lot of things she should’ve done, things from the past that were now coming back to haunt her. 

Like all the missing schoolwork that had piled up in the weeks she’d been focused on their debut, or that time she’d missed practice because she had an exam that she couldn’t reschedule. There just wasn’t enough time to do anything, it seemed. She hadn’t even read the message her brother sent her a couple days ago. She knew he’d be at her debut showcase; she could apologize then. 

Maybe she should’ve tried to finish her homework on the bus instead of getting the extra 20 minutes of sleep, or maybe she should’ve just dealt with one failing grade so she could attend practice, because it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t putting in the same amount of effort and commitment that the other members were. 

Would people be able to notice that she didn’t practice as much as the others? What would they think when she lagged behind? What if she forgot the choreography while they were performing? 

A shaky breath left Jieun’s lips as she closed her eyes. She took in deep breaths as she started lightly pinching her arms, the slight pain distracting from the whirlwind of thoughts flying through her head. She continued like this for a few more seconds, until the sound of her heartbeat no longer pounded through her ears. 

“Jieun?” 

The girl opened her eyes, whipping her head around to see Hongjoong’s tired figure standing in the entryway to the balcony, dressed in a sweater and basketball shorts. She hadn’t even heard him open the sliding door. Jieun immediately dropped her arms, staring at him like a deer in headlights. 

“Hi,” she replied meekly. 

Hongjoong stepped onto the balcony, closing the sliding door behind him before he walked over to the girl. 

It was one of the rare times the leader didn’t stay late at the studio, the company wanting to give him a bit of rest before they officially debuted. Hongjoong was always working so hard, day and night, and he always seemed to have everything handled. So why couldn’t she do the same?

The two sat in silence for a couple minutes, Jieun staring down at her lap while Hongjoong looked off into the distance. The air grew uncomfortably awkward as they sat together, barely acknowledging the other’s presence.

“Aren’t you cold?” Hongjoong eventually asked, breaking the silence. Jieun shook her head, though a strong breeze suddenly whipped past that caused the girl to shiver. He didn’t hesitate to take off his sweater upon seeing this, reaching over to drape it over the girl’s shoulders. She leaned back, pushing his arm away. 

“It’s ok,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t have to.” 

The older boy let out a sigh. “Don’t be stubborn- I can see that you’re cold,” he scolded, holding it out to her. Jieun’s gaze flicked between him and the sweater, staring down at it for a moment before nodding sheepishly. She scooched closer, slipping her arms through the sleeves before pulling it tight to her body. 

“Thanks,” Jieun whispered. 

Hongjoong only gave a single nod as he turned to look at her, eyebrows raising. “So, what’s on your mind, Jieunie?”  

She responded with a quick shrug, staring forward to avoid his gaze. “I just wanted some fresh air.” 

He snorted. “We can’t be that bad.” Jieun giggled, though the lighthearted moment quickly faded away as her smile wavered. Hongjoong didn’t take his eyes off her, quietly observing as a small sigh escaped the girl’s lips. “But really, Jieun. What’s going on?” 

She remained quiet for an extended period of time, and he took note of her hands tightly gripping the cuffs of his sweater. It felt like years had passed before she uttered quietly,

“I’m scared.” Jieun’s expression was blank as she stared off into the distance. “This isn’t what I thought this would be like. My dream is finally coming true and I’m scared.” 

She looked over at him, letting out a bitter chuckle. “It’s sad. I want to be excited, but I can’t because I keep thinking about everything that could go wrong, or everything that I did wrong.” Jieun closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, holding it for a couple seconds before letting out a drawn-out exhale. She froze, her entire face devoid of emotion with the exception of her eyes, her pupils shaking as she let out a shaky breath. “What if they don’t like me?” 

Hongjoong’s gaze softened the more he stared at the girl, wishing he could just take all her worries and pain and transfer them to himself. But as much as he wanted to comfort her, tell her everything would be ok, the world could be a scary place. Still, Hongjoong ignored the own ache in his heart as he put a hand on her shoulder.  

“Jieunie, there are always going to be people who won’t like us,” he said with a gentle tone, choosing each word carefully. “As much as it sucks, that’s just how it is.” 

The girl nodded slowly, though he went on before she could say anything.  

“But for every person that doesn’t like you, there are fifty people that will love you,” Hongjoong looked down at the girl and gave a single nod, lightly squeezing her shoulder. “It’s normal to feel scared when something big is happening, Jieun, but you don’t have to be scared by yourself. I’ll always be here for you. The others too.”

Jieun nodded half-absentmindedly as she turned away, her blank stare showing that she was still there, but her mind was in a completely different place.

“Honestly, when we were first confirmed to debut, I was worried about you.” Jieun glanced over at the leader, her eyebrows raising slightly.

“You were…worried about me?” 

His eyes widened as he shook his head quickly, understanding her confusion. “Not because I doubted your abilities,” he said quickly. “I was worried because you’re so kind-hearted.” Jieun’s head tilted curiously as he went on. “You and Yeosang are the same. You’re kind, Jieun, and there are people who are going to take advantage of that. I’m worried that you’ll have a hard time and I won’t be able to protect you.” 

He took in a deep breath, exhaling in a long, drawn out sigh. “I promise I’ll try, though. So long as the stars are shining, I’ll always try to protect you kids.” 

She let out a small chuckle at his words, a small yawn slipping past her lips. Jieun leaned her head against his shoulder, scooting closer to him as though silently sending him a message, one that he immediately understood. 

Thank you. 

Hongjoong smiled fondly, wrapping an arm around the girl as he rested his head on hers. The moonlight shone down on them, illuminating the night sky and somehow making the stars shine even brighter. Jieun wasn’t sure how long they stayed there, but she was half-asleep when Hongjoong suddenly tapped her on the nose. 

“Let’s get inside before you catch a cold,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice as he sat up straight. Jieun nodded, straightening her own back and stretching a bit. “C’mon, Jieunie. I’ll make you some hot chocolate.” 

She glanced over at him curiously. “We have hot chocolate mix?” 

“Yeah, we do.” He put his finger to his lips, giving a quiet ‘shh’. “Just don’t tell Wooyoung.” 

The girl giggled, nodding as they both stood up and started making their way back into the apartment. Before she stepped inside, she glanced back at the night sky once more, seeing all the stars shining brightly as ever. A small smile made its way onto her face as she turned around, hugging his sweater tightly as ever to her body before going back inside, allowing herself to be consumed by the warmth of her home. 

taglist: @teezingsiyeon

[delawaredetroit]

And this is the arc where Momo starts to get her groove back.

She lost her confidence during the sports festival and had a rough time with the the practical part of the midterm, but Kamino is one of the arcs where she has the biggest impact on the plot (along with the first war arc where she was instrumental in stopping Gigantomachia). This was the first time Momo was able to act decisively in an actual emergency situation and she set the groundwork for the victory in Kamino for All Might.

I do, however, still think Momo is overall underutilized both in terms of her character and her quirk. She tends to get more focus in the least plot relevant arcs like the midterm exams and the joint training arc. She has a bit of an Iida problem in that the basic conflict of her character is resolved early and then she just falls out of focus as if Horikoshi didn't know what to do with her after she overcame her self confidence issues.

[yuurei20]

Hello! So I have a question, I wanted to ask if we know if in NRC it goes by three terms or four? As Im only familiar with schools using four terms but I heard that japan only uses three lol

I also wanted to know if we had estimated dates for all term finals?

Hello hello! Thank you for this question!

NRC might follow a four-term (or "quarter") system! ^^

Crowley explains that the internships for 4th-year students begin in September (the same time as school begins for all students) and last three months each. While he does not explicitly say "this is the same schedule we follow at the school because NRC is a four-quarter system," it is possible! ^^

Elementary school to high school is often three terms in Japan, but the school system in Twst is being pointedly described as different from Japan's systems! (ref: The prefect and culture shock)

The novel can be very different from the game, but looking at the main story the only time final exams have ever been mentioned might only be in Book 3, which is typically assumed to take place sometime from November to December (unlike other arcs like Book 2 and Book 5, we are not given any specific month for when Book 3 is taking place). Ref: A timeline for the main game?

The "final exams" that have been mentioned in the game take place directly before winter holidays, which we know end just after new year, so it seems to be the conclusion of the first semester of September to December!

Also in the game we have the characters referring to schooling such as elementary school, middle school and high school in English rather than Japanese, possibly insinuating that Twst's school system has been based on overseas systems rather than Japan's own?

Ref: Does Twst follow Western or Asian school system?

We also have references to things like quizzes, test days, practical magic exams throughout various vignettes! The exact timing of these are, however, not specified :>

As of Book 7 is has been "half a year" since the school year began with no mention of final exams since Book 3, so perhaps the next final-exam-period has yet to come? :>

[papyrus-in-practice]

Papyrus in Practice Arc 4 Page 33

So, I'm posting this a day early because, tomorrow, I'm scheduled to take my licensing exam. Wish me luck, y'all!

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