#senior leadership teams

[harunrabbani]

Polarisation: The Impact of the Palestinian/Israeli Crisis on British Teenagers

Entire communities are being polarised, and if not dealt with appropriately, may have long term and permanent consequences on the lives on individuals and our entire society.

The current crisis in the Middle East has serious repercussions in the UK. In this article aimed at senior leaders at secondary/high schools and colleges, I will discuss some of the important issues that teaching staff may wish to consider should they choose to help their students navigate these difficult times.

Please be aware that the purpose of this article is not to discuss the ongoing conflict in Palestine, but the impact it is having and is likely to have on teenagers of school age in Britain.

In the 2011 census, out of the 3.5 million children under the age of five, 320,000 were identified as Muslim. These individuals are now young adults. The proportion of the overall population who identified as Muslim increased from 4.9% (2.7 million) in 2011 to 6.5% (3.9 million) in 2021. It is clearly a growing community that cannot be ignored.

As a result of the recent geopolitical crisis, there is a significant rise in both antisemitism and Islamophobia. School leadership teams (SLT) are all too aware of this and have their work cut out.

How can teachers handle the emotional tsunami hitting teenagers' lives?

Everywhere they look, young adults will be hit by news of tragedies and loss. Social media. Television. Radio. Newspapers. You have to live under a stone to avoid the flood of stories coming out of the independent and mainstream media.

Young Muslim men and women will feel disenfranchised, disempowered, and disconnected. Having grown up in Britain, I know what it feels like being treated like a pariah despite your innocence.

The worst thing to do is to ignore the emotional turmoil and internal clashes experienced by British Jews and Muslims alike. It's not just Muslims who are affected. Children of Jewish descent and unconnected are witness to the hostilities and the propaganda on all sides. This is why helping young adults address their mental health issues is incredibly beneficial in this climate.

From my own experience as Muslim growing up in 70s and 80s Britain, I know my own family and community could have benefitted from support rather than being ignored.

Here are some suggested ideas your students may wish to consider:

1. Calm Yourself

Despite all that's going on around you, make sure you remain calm. We make better choices and take responsible actions when we are calm and collected. Do your best not to let your emotions guide your decisions and actions.

2. Talk with Others About How You Feel

Do not let your emotions fester. Talk to somebody whom you trust and respect to act as a good listener. Whether it is a pastoral member of staff or your local Imam, make sure your voice is heard. Your voice matters, and so do you.

3. Take Care of Yourself

In difficult times, we often forget to pay attention to our own needs. So take care of yourself by eating well, resting well, getting plenty of sleep, and being around people you love.

4. Avoid Using Alcohol, Drugs, and Tobacco

These substances magnify negative emotions and make you feel even more disconnected. Reliance on these leads to poor choices. Poor choices can have lasting effects that are difficult to undo.

5. Have a Daily Routine

If you already have a daily routine, make sure you stay with it. For many Muslim teenagers, the act of daily prayer is a powerful antidote and practice that keeps them levelheaded and calm.

6. Get Involved in Your Community

We all need social connection and the safety of community. Engage with your local community, school group, mosque community or local charity. Volunteering your help and support for the betterment of others will make a difference to others and to you.

7. Get Help if Symptoms Persist

If your mental health has been severely affected by current circumstances, please seek professional help through the school, Mosque, or doctor. Do not ignore your mental and emotional health and well-being.

8. Be there for your friends

If you're trying to help a friend, listen and find out where they are in coping with difficulties. One of the most significant impact you can make is NOT by giving advice, but by being a good listener. No judgment. No prejudice. You'll be surprised at how much it benefits your friend by being a good listener. It will benefit you, too.

Despite what many may lead you to believe, the impact such crises has on young lives is neither a Muslim nor a Jew nor Christian nor an atheist thing. It is a human thing. Teachers already have too much of a burden on their shoulders as it is. Unfortunately, this is another one that they must carry. I certainly hope they will.

Conclusion

The ongoing Middle East crisis is sending ripples across the UK, affecting students from various backgrounds. It is a critical time for school leaders, teachers, and communities to come together to address the emotional challenges these young individuals face.

Ignoring the turmoil within British Jewish and Muslim communities is not an option. It's a moment that demands empathy, understanding, and active support.

By providing students with practical guidance and a listening ear, we can help them navigate these tumultuous times, ensuring their mental well-being and a more resilient future. Let this be a call to action for all of us, to stand with and support the young minds that will shape our nation's future.

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About Harun Rabbani

Harun Rabbani is a highly experienced professional speaker, workshop leader, and award-winning trainer. With a wealth of expertise in empowering students and helping them navigate challenging situations, Harun is committed to making a meaningful impact on the lives of young individuals. As a British Asian and Muslim, he understands the clash of values, challenges and solutions that unite people rather than divide.

To learn more about Harun's talks, visit harunrabbani.com. Harun also delivers bespoke training days for teaching staff.

[lynsstrange]

(Color guard rant of the month) knowing I’m going to be captain next year scares the shit out of me when I see my current captain (who did dance for years) pick up advanced sabre choreography in a half hour and know the correct counts to it when I could barely REMEMBER the first third 💀 that’s what I get when I joined freshmen year with no dance/choreography background. I clawed my way up over the course of three years and disregarded my mental health so many times to be where I am but still will forever lack the natural talent some people have. And that fact makes me truly upset sometimes

[silveredsticks]

x

[some-programming-pearls]

If You’re a New Manager? Read These 3 Books

Before you create a new process or system, dive into these books and build a stronger team. I have a general dislike for most of the online recipes my wife sends me. Why? Because you have to scroll through pages of the authors’ personal stories about grandma’s experience baking cookies in the frozen corners of Middle Earth when all you want to know is how many cups of sugar are necessary. I…

[heechwe]

the boy is mine | 𝐥𝐡𝐬

୨୧ pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 2.3k ୨୧ genre: smut ୨୧ tags: secret relationship au, semi-fwb, idol!reader, idol!heeseung, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), pet names (baby, love, etc.), unprotected sex. ୨୧ synopsis: A company costume party is not the perfect place for your relationship with Heeseung to be exposed. So, like rational people, you both decide to have a rendezvous in a closet when jealousy rears its ugly head, if only to prove to each other who you belong to. ➸ banner created by @hobeemin ♡

A costume party for hundreds of celebrities was as ideal as expected. The lingering, dramatic stare-offs between exes with bad blood created a thin layer of tension for some partygoers. The whispers of rumored hookups in the bathrooms at parties prior to this one caused an onslaught of prying eyes. With every motion of an idol, there was a microscope ready to catch every moment worthy of gossip.

Heeseung kept to himself since the beginning of the night, only conversing with his fellow members rather than other idols and leadership teams. It wasn’t that the guy was rude, not at all; he just didn’t focus on paying attention to the engagements of his colleagues. His job was to make music, perform, and then live his life. Once he was off the clock, nobody but Heeseung knew about what went on in his bed.  He preferred it that way.

“Come on, Seung. We gotta try and find some action tonight.” Jay tips his cowboy hat in his friend’s direction. The Toy Story costume did not suit him, and Heeseung made sure to tell him so when he bought it as the guys kept to the superhero theme they picked out. But, against the better judgment of his seniors, Jay tends to do what he wants. And tonight, it’s clear where his intentions lay.

“I’m not feeling it,” Heeseung responds, shrugging and drinking the beer in his glass, some of the liquid dripping onto his cowl. The plastic Batman mask itches Heeseung’s face, but it keeps him from being picked out immediately by randoms in the room.

“Seriously? Don’t be such a wet blanket, dude.”

”If you want pussy, go talk to Jake or Hoon, man.” The two aforementioned boys were chatting up some girls from a group under Pledis. With their respective Spiderman and Iron Man masks off, it’s easy to discern their place in the crowd of people. At the bar in the corner with their conversation partners, they’re on a mission to end All Hallow’s Eve with a bang.

Before Jay can respond, his eyes go wide in recognition and a smile spreads across his face. “Ah, I get it now. You’ve been waiting on her.”

Heeseung’s head turns, and he feels all the blood in his body go straight to his core. In a Catwoman costume, completely clad in a latex-coated suit and red lipstick, he may go insane and take you on the floor in front of everyone. Even in the mask that hides half of your face, he can see how your eyes darken when you capture his attention, the borders of his mouth watering at your figure.

He downs what’s left of his alcohol and readdresses his friend. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

”Sure.” When Jay sees you continue your path towards Heeseung, he makes his exit in the direction of the bar. “Have fun and use condoms!”

Heeseung wants to slap Jay silly for saying his parting words so loudly, but the feeling dissipates seeing you so close. 

When you first met, it was a strictly platonic environment between friendly coworkers. It wasn’t in his mind then to progress to whatever your relationship was now, a partnership that dances the lines between a sexual agreement and a full-blown relationship. But now, the feelings in his chest are ready to explode in the tiny banquet hall the company rented for the party. He wants to kiss you senseless, smear your lipstick on his face, and press his face to other parts of you, but he knows that would expose both of you to extreme scrutiny.

It was not out of the bounds of your contract to date or sleep with coworkers under the same label. Still, it was extremely frowned upon by your peers. Keeping your relationship a secret was not difficult though, burner accounts and private meetups both yours and Heeseung’s best friends.

Heeseung tries to keep his sexual appetite at bay when you finally make it to him.  You pose with one hip jutting out, causing your whip to jiggle at your side.

“Selina Kyle, right?” He asks rhetorically, a smirk on his lips.

“Thanks for noticing, Master Wayne.” Your British accent causes Heeseung to emit a chest-rumbling laugh. “You look handsome.”

“And you look…” Although you’re nestled in your corner of the expansive room, he knows he can’t outright describe all the ways he wants to tear the costume off of you. Hands, teeth, the list is endless. But he settles with a simple answer that hopefully says just enough. “Incredible.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause of the spandex.”

His eyebrow quirks, unsurprised you could tell exactly what was on his mind. Six months of fucking made it easy to discern a person’s words from their tells. “I’m saying it because you always look incredible. The spandex is just a bonus.”

The tension between you is electric. Even prior to the first time you slept with him, the signs were there. You felt the buzz under your skin at his presence even if he said nothing and it was ever too brief. His gaze and body would linger during practices or studio sessions,  his being too close but not close enough if you were honest with yourself.

Heeseung tries to be discreet as he attempts to grab your hand under the cover of shadows. You shuck him off in the presence of so many eyes. “Not here, Hee.” You frown, wanting nothing more than to feel his fingers in between yours, his warmth bringing an unexplainable comfort. “You know they’ll talk.”

“They already are.” Heeseung practically hears the bullshit discussions between the surrounding people. Can you believe that? They probably picked out their outfits together. How can they be so obvious?

Your initial confidence is dampened by the thoughts that Heeseung knows you both share, but he shrugs off the chitchat about you both that could be occurring nearby. “Matching costumes can just be a coincidence.”

“Is that what they’re calling it?” You laugh sadly,  knowing you have to leave his side to avoid suspicions. The night may not be over, but you can’t stay too close unless you want to bring everything out in the open. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Heeseung can’t keep his focus on anything but you, conversing and laughing with gentlemen from other groups under the same label. The idiots came up with some Cowboys and Aliens-inspired costumes, and the flirting taking place between you and these men makes Heeseung scoff. How could you be impressed by a guy with a cowboy hat on? 

The interactions occurring in front of Heeseung make his skin crawl, the image of you smiling for guys who aren’t him hitting like a stone in his gut. He knows he’s not your boyfriend, and no labels were ever discussed at the start of your relationship, but that doesn’t take the sting out of it. And his feelings aren’t curbed by the alcohol in his cup.

Unable to avoid his distaste anymore, he excuses himself from his conversation with the random executives who bothered him ten minutes ago to saunter over to your spot in the banquet hall. “Excuse me, gentleman. I need to speak to Catwoman for a second.”

You barely say goodbye to Jeongin and Yeongbo before Heeseung takes you by the arm and into the hallway of the building. He looks around in rapid motion, and finds an open door to shove the two of you into. The makeshift closet provides enough space for the two of you, but not much.

Heeseung takes the cowl off of his head and throws it to his side, his eyes dark due to more than just the black paint around the upper portion of his face. “Heeseung, what’re you—“

He suddenly knocks you back into the wall of the closet and slams his mouth into yours, his tongue and teeth colliding with yours frantically. Your desire spikes when he palms on of your breasts over your costume, the latex wrinkling under his touch, “Fuck, seeing you with other guys drives me insane.”

You scoff, a smirk on your lips. “Like I was happy to see you talking to Yunjin earlier.”

“Don’t be like that.” His eyes glint with mischief at your response, but it melts into pure sincerity that makes your heart kickflip. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

“Likewise.” You nip his lips and knock him down to his knees. Before he can catch his breath, you lower the front zipper at the center of your costume and shrug it off of your arms, revealing the black-lace set covering the places Heeseung knows by heart. “Now touch me.”

“Jesus.” He hooks his thumbs into the sides of your underwear to yank down, careful to not rip the fabric. “Did you plan this or something?” 

“You’re the one that pulled me into this room, baby.”

Heeseung smirks and presses a kiss to the center of your midriff, testing and teasing before going in for the kill. He nuzzles his face against your clit, kissing the bundle with adoration.

In the end, when he first saw you walking over to him at the start of the night, you both had to have known it would end like this, lost in each other and away from the rest of the world’s opinions and influence. Fuck them, Heeseung thinks. If their scrutiny meant he still found himself here, in between your legs and showing you how much you meant to him, he would take every comment with a smile.

“You taste incredible,” Heeseung whispers before passing his tongue against your slick folds, lapping up the wetness like he has never eaten anything better than you. “Just like always.”

“More,” you whisper, putting your hand under his chin to look at you. Even in the low light surrounding the small space, you can see the glint of his lips from your arousal. “I want more of you.”

“As you wish.” He stands up and kisses you deeply. “Wrap your legs around me, love.”

He lifts you with ease, his muscles expanding to reveal their form even in his bulky costume. You can’t wait to feel the heat of his skin against yours later when you’re truly alone. It’s never been a one-and-done with him, going many rounds without stopping, whether you had expected it to go that long or not. His sex drive was unstoppable when he was in the mood, and it seemed whenever he was with you, he didn’t have any intentions of slowing down.

By the time he enters you, your body is already welcoming him from the previous foreplay. It makes him hiss with pleasure, the tone low to avoid any strangers  in the hallway from hearing and speculating. You capture his lips with yours, letting the extent of his moan be swallowed by your lips.

“Does it feel good, baby?” He asks, the whisper as loud as any groan he could emit. He releases one of your breasts from your bra, kneading the skin tenderly. “It’s fucking incredible for me, the way you stretch around me like this.”

“Fuck, you know you’re amazing, Hee.” You scratch your hands down his arms as he thrusts inside of you, the only available skin to take hold of.

“You’re all mine, you know that right?” He captures your eyes with his stare, going slower to punish you until you give him the answer he’s looking for. Fortunately for him, you don’t mind giving him what he wants if he does the same.

“Yes, all yours.” He resumes his original speed, sucking on the skin of your neck to create hickeys only he will know about. He loves to mark you and see your excruciating attempts to cover them up, makeup only going so far before friends and coworkers asked about what had occurred the night before.

If there’s anything as strong as Heeseung’s lust, it’s his pride. And he was as proud as he could be knowing he could claim you so well, even if only the two of you knew about it.

“Hee, I’m gonna come,” you whimper, holding on tighter to reach your end faster.

“Do it baby, let go for me.” He kisses you again to swallow the deep moan that leaves your lips as you come. If only you could shout from the rooftops how good he made you feel. How he was as impeccable as a lover as he was a person, just to make every adoring fan and foe of his envious of your spot in his life.

Your body feels like lead by the time you come down from the high, Heeseung has to hold onto you harder so you don’t crumble onto the floor.

“Hold on tight.” He braces his body with one hand against the wall behind you as his pace speeds up to an exhausting degree. His muscles twitch as he releases inside of you, burying his face in your neck to not let the groan escape his throat. His breath is hot on your skin, but you love the feeling of him so vulnerable as he lets go.

You kiss him quickly when he raises his head, his eyes half-lidded. “For a cat, you didn’t scratch that hard,” he says, lips upturned.

“Fuck off.” Heeseung helps you get dressed again, zipping up the front of your costume for you while you try to wipe away the remnants of your red lipstick from his face to no avail. He’ll have to wipe it off in the bathroom before going back to the party, but you doubt he cares much. “Come to mine after?”

He feels foolish for thinking tonight may be the night to discuss your relationship status, but stranger things have happened. Like the bat and the cat joining forces, per say. He kisses you again before leaving you with, “Of course.”

@seokgyuu @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[badasgirl]

i’ll always cheer for you

bada lee x fem!reader

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────

what happens when the basketball team captain and the cheer team co-captain are in love but can’t tell anyone…

genre: fluff, minor angst (my bad), slightly suggestive if you squint (?)

warnings: reader and bada are both lesbians, slightly suggestive with a veryyy tiny makeout scene but nothing too crazy, no caps on purpose (booo ik terrible grammar).

author’s note: this was not proofread nor do i know much about basketball so please be easy on me. anyways, yayyy my first req done, thank you to @badasgirlfriend for being my first request!! this was supposed to be a quick lil imagine but i got a bit carried away 🧎‍♀️…BUT i hope this was good :3 btw reqs are still open!

word count: ~1.8k….

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────

you and bada lee were captains of your respective sports at your university: cheerleading and basketball, granted you were a co-captain along with another girl named lusher, you were a captain nonetheless. becoming captains by your sophomore year meant you both had insane leadership skills and were talented in your fields. naturally, you both were drawn to each other and became the bestest of friends during your first year of leadership.

however it’s now your senior year and y’all are a little more than friends. last year one night after a game, both the basketball and the cheerleading team went out for expensive bbq to celebrate the win the basketball team brought home. the whole night bada kept clinging to you. she was cooking your meat, making little lettuce wraps for you, and feeding you everything. it got to the point everyone had just assumed you were already dating.

“bro when did you start dating? i cant believe i wasn’t updated.” lusher said in a jokingly hurt voice as she dramatically placed her hand over her heart to feign sadness.

“yeah i thought we were close y/n!” tatter, another cheerleader, said while pretending to cry into her fellow teammate’s, minah’s, shoulder.

you giggled softly while shaking your head at their actions. “guys please! we’re not dating, bada’s just my best friend, right honey?” you said as you turned to look at bada.

bada felt her heart twinge slightly at hearing the words “best friend”, but she quickly nodded in agreement before smiling at you and saying “right honey.”

“me personally y/n, i’d be asking bada what are we!” jj, a fellow basketball team member, joked as she stuffed her face with food.

“best friends…sure” aiki, another basketball player, replied sarcastically before chucking and saying “i don’t call my best friend honey, but yeah! for sure besties!”

everyone at the table laughs at aiki’s and jj’s comments, including you and bada. however, bada knew that night she had to confess to you. she could no longer fight her feelings for you, she wanted to kiss you and hold you close in her arms until you both fell asleep. so, she told you exactly that. you both being lesbians who are in denial of their feelings course led to reciprocated feelings neither knew about. all that mattered now was you were hers and she was yours.

───────────────────────────────────

now back to current time, you’re both seniors and it’s been a little over a year since you and bada began dating. you both became closer than ever. you did everything together, no one could separate y’all from each other. however, no one knew the truth. your relationship was kept a secret because you both decided for the sake of your sports and reputations as captains that no one could know. you both took leading a team so seriously, that neither of you wanted to have anyone think you guys were slacking off due to being in a relationship. so of course this lead to its own issues.

people would ask both of you out on dates constantly (especially you) and although you both would pay zero attention to these people, it bothered the other. bada especially hated it when men would ask you out no matter how many times you told them you were a lesbian. she wanted to scream to the world that she was your girlfriend and everyone else can fuck off, but she couldn’t.

one day it bothered her so much that some man named jongin asked you out to dinner that she couldn’t even bear to look at you because while yes she was jealous other people perceiving her girlfriend, she was even more upset she couldn’t tell these people off for you. she didn’t answer your texts, she didn’t walk you to class like usual, hell she didn’t even wave back when you waved at her in the halls. she had ignored you all day up until she saw you crying and hugging tatter in the hallway near the entrance of the building. bada immediately ran up to both of you and asked why you were crying. tatter shook her head in confusion before explaining that you just began crying once she asked about your day. bada sighed deeply and told tatter to let her handle it. tatter was skeptical at first but eventually agreed as she slowly pulled you off of her. she patted your head before leaving and let you know that she’ll text you later. once it was just you and bada, you hung your head lowly while trying to hide your sniffles. bada placed her hands on your shoulders while leaning down slightly to match your height.

“princess, what’s the matter?” bada asked softly with her voice full of concern. you looked up at her with tears streaming down your face, her heart broke on the spot. bada hated seeing you upset, she only ever wanted you to be happy.

you eventually replied through your sniffles. “why do you hate me now? is it something i did? why are you acting like i don’t exist…” you trailed off beginning to cry harder.

immediately bada’s heart broke again, she hated you being upset, but she hated you being upset because of her even more. she herself began to tear up as she pulled you into her arms and held you tightly. she soothingly rubbed your back, letting you cry into her.

“i’m so so sorry princess, i never meant to upset you. it’s just the thing with jongin bothered me so much and the fact i couldn’t do anything…” bada explained through her own tears now. you looked up at her in understanding before wrapping your arms even tighter around her, clinging to her as if she would disappear.

“i understand baby, but next time please just talk to me. i hate feeling this way, i hate us crying over misunderstandings.” you explained as you began to calm down. you pulled away from bada but then placed her hands in yours.

she looked you in your eyes, nodding in agreement before she replied with “i promise i will. let’s never cry over a MAN again.” she emphasized ‘man’ before laughing attempting to lighten the mood. you began to laugh with her while smiling up at her. god, you were so in love with this girl. nothing will ever stop your love for her.

“we should get going, practice starts soon and you know friday is the game that determines if the team goes to finals or not.” you said seriously as you began to get in your leader mindset. bada agreed with you and you both went off to practice for the very important upcoming game.

───────────────────────────────────

it was finally d-day. one of the most important games of the season began as the buzzer rang throughout the court. the basketball team was working so hard to keep the score high, needing to bag the win. the cheer team was working just as hard on the side lines making sure the basketball team could feel enough love and support to have the strength and energy to keep pushing through this game. you, lusher, tatter, minah, and the rest of the cheerleaders were screaming so loud that your throats were feeling raw. seeing bada in her element made you fall for her all over again. bada was flying across the court so naturally and with ease, scoring point after point for her team. she was constantly blocking shots from one of her opponents haechi wang. however, the opposing team was not weak. for every shot bada blocked, one was scored almost immediately after.

it was now the final 30 seconds of the game, the score was 57:57. aiki had the ball as the buzzer went off and she immediately began to dribble it. bada made the sign that she was open to aiki, she knew it had to be her who made this final shot for her team to bring them their victory. aiki saw bada and immediately made the pass. once shs got the ball, she was off. she didn’t want to let her team down, so she knew she had to put in all the effort she could. it was down to 15 seconds on the timer and bada was exactly where she needed to be to make her shot. however, she started to get nervous and overthink. but before her thoughts could take over, bada managed to hear her girlfriend from across the court yell, she heard you yell “LET’S GO BADA LEE YOU GOT THIS!”. nothing else mattered once she heard your voice. she blocked out everything except for your voice and the hoop. bada took her shot and right as the buzzer sounded, the ball went in the hoop. she had gotten a buzzer beater and scored the win for her team. it didn’t even click for her that they had won until she saw you running across the court towards her. bada smiled as you ran into her arms. she lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around her waist.

you were filled with so much happiness and pride you didn’t care anymore. right as you looked into each other’s eyes, you kissed her passionately. bada questioned absolutely nothing as she kissed you right back with just as much passion, borderline making out with you on the court. cheers from the crowd, both basketball teams, and your cheer team could be heard as all attention was now on both of you.

once you pulled away from bada’s lips, you immediately shouted out to everyone “MY GIRLFRIEND IS GOING TO NATIONALS!” bada couldn’t help but smile and giggle at your actions. the world now knew that you were dating. you could hear everyone laugh along in happiness as many people clapped for you.

“what did i sayyyy!” lusher exclaimed to her team as they all smiled and agreed.

“yo hyojin you owe me $10, i told you so” aiki said to her teammate as she held out her palm waiting for her payment.

both you and bada laughed at everyone’s actions. you both held each other close in a current state of bliss. in the end, who gives a fuck if others think you’re slacking off. you both know it’s not true and that’s all that matters.

“hey bada” you whispered to your girlfriend, still holding her close.

“yes my princess?” bada responded, her voice dripping with sweetness.

you smiled brightly as you looked into her eyes and said “just know that no matter what, i’ll always cheer for you.”

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────

thank you so much for reading ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ - lila

[bballlvr8]

this is kind of long sorry lol.

Azzi Media Day Availability 

Feeling Really Good and Strong.  Close to being back at full practices. 

Doing most at practice, still on “load management”. Doing most stuff. 

Learned that Sarah is really good. 

Feeling great about the squad, very young, so many new pieces, working on chemistry. Every week is looking better than the last. Kaitlyn is smart, adjusting getting use to the program. Makes the right reads and decisions 

Having Allie on the team: Great Shooter, Great scorer, reads the floor really well, will help open up the floor. 

How is Paige different or better this year? Taking her leadership role very very seriously, because she does not have the other seniors (Nika and Aaliyah to rely on). Try to fill in that void. being a strong voval leader. Doing really good she’s been able to see that shift in Paige. More aggressive (offensively and defensively) said that she’s really been taking charge which she loves to see

The team is working on nipping the bad habits now and not letting them linger. Having discipline and holding eachother accountable is going to help them go a long way. 

Seeing KK and Ashlynn more comfortable, KK trying to be more vocal, Ashlynn being more confident, says its nice to see them settling in a little more. 

Her Goals on being back: Hasn’t really had that conversation, but they are taking it step by step. She’s feeling good on where shes at in practice and adding more makaing sure her knee responds well. 

Asked if she could see the light at the end of the tunnel on her rehab: She said “oh forsure” shes never been so happy to practice in her life, its a great feeling. 

Thoughts on Champion Classic and game against USC: Thinks its going to be incredible you see the energy that barclays can have, and being one of the first groups that get to play there is going to be special. 

Says that she was surprised to be back at Media Day (if you are selceted for a preseason award you get to come). Says that shes been here every year and that she has not made it through a year yet to get an award lol. Nice to see but you still have to prove it. 

Still in the phase of getting her feet back under her, getting use to the pace, playing with other people!!, spacing and the flow of offense. said her shot is alright right now lol.. she has her days, working on giving herself grace because she knows she is not going to come back  and be 100% right away after being out for 10 months. 

Said giving herself grace has been very important because she does have high standards for herself and she does want to see that ball go in everytime she shoots it lol.

She’s doing 5x5 with contact, and say yeah its been fun lol. 

Her time away has forced her to see the game from a different prespective, slows it down for you. Thinks it going to help her going into this year. 

Questioned on whether paige gave her any advice on coming back from an acl injury at the collegiate level: She said not really lmao. Said she’s a great hype woman, and if she needs anything she knows paige is there for her as is all her teammates. 

Excited for any game she gets to play. 

Talked about being sidelined and watching how the game has taken off (viewership wise) said that she felt it was really special because they weren’t just fans of basketball but were fans of them as well, said getting see the little kids that come up is so heartwarming. Said its crazy to think that they are role models to them. 

Said that Paige was crazy; they asked if she could go to a football game and be in class the next morning, she said not for football but for another sporting event most definitely 

Talked about Paiges World and Work Tour 

Talked about being an upperclassman and understanding what the coaches want, and how everything works.. feels that will be able to help her coming back to the game. 

Talked about books and listening to Rod Wave. Said she hasn’t really read recently because shes been reading so much for class. 

[we-stan-cale]

I wanted to talk about the side stories

Because @ladyteldra and I got some thoughts I'm incorporating in a fic. We might have thrown some of them out before?

Anyways

His Company (with a capital 'C', it's so well known it's just called The Company) does this

a third organization separate from guilds and the government, the company mediated any issues between the two other organizations in addition to taking care of monster invasions, guild inspections, and government audits among many other things.

His team seriously thought assassins might kidnap him

“…Do you think one of the illegal guilds attacked the team leader-nim’s house?” Agent Jung So Hoon’s voice was slightly shaking from anxiety. “Or maybe an assassin dispatched from overseas abducted the team leader-nim. Ah, I have a bad feeling about this. Doesn’t the team leader-nim live in the outskirts of the city? I’m sure the security there isn’t good either. Should I contact the Team 2 leader?” “Calm down. We will decide after going to the team leader-nim’s house.”

He's low key famous

Kim Rok Soo was quite famous not just in the company, but also throughout the industry and with the government and guilds. Although he had not known the name because this person doesn’t show himself in the media, he was the leader of Team 1, the greatest force in the company, as well as implicitly the leader of the company’s battle agents in the ‘Body.’ Furthermore, even the people in charge of the ‘Head’ were said to be unable to hold in their admiration at Kim Rok Soo’s abilities.

He had 0 mortality, always had a thorough plan, and really helped develop his people's talents

Team 1’s mortality rate was 0% since Kim Rok Soo became team leader. They had also not failed any of the missions they were assigned. Kim Rok Soo was said to come up with a thorough plan and complete the mission under any and all circumstances, even if he was lacking the resources to do so. Furthermore, many people’s abilities developed even further when they were in his team.

His team constantly worried about him

“Now I won’t need to worry about him dying!” His seniors showed their agreement at Agent Cha’s comments and smiles appeared on their faces.

Again a comment on the low casualty rate under his leadership, but also (from someone early after he took over as team leader)

There had been no deaths nor serious injuries on Team 1 since Kim Rok Soo became team leader. Although there were people who received minor injuries, nobody ever had to be hospitalized for longer than a few days because of a serious injury. Instead, the number of scars on Kim Rok Soo’s body continued to increase.

He probably got Instant around then? And was probably overdoing it already.

Choi Han, after getting Choi Jung Soo's memories, said he was able to realize Cale was Kim Rok Soo partly because he acted exactly the same.

So basically, we can picture Cale's time as team leader as, probably, him being exactly the same. Taking risks, overdoing it... But mostly in fighting monsters, doing government audits, and dealing with illegal guilds.

Also, again, he's famous.

And foreign governments may want to kidnap him.

We also know he studied monsters extensively, aided by Record no doubt, so I posit that he's probably the expert on monsters.

Which might be why they want to kidnap him? Not kill...kidnap. He's probably considered, like, a strategic resource or something

[traffic-light-eyes]

Ninjago Movie-Verse Headcanon List

1. Ages / Grades (American)

Zane

The technical oldest. He's been running for at least 25 years, but only gained his "soul" at 7. Thus, he is technically 18 and a senior.

Cole

The oldest at 18/19. He's a senior who was held back sophomore year. Not for lack of intelligence, no, but because he was suspected to have instigated a fight. They suspended him for the rest of the school year since the dude was seriously injured.

Kai

He's a 16/17 junior. He spends a lot of his time with seniors, though, since he's in the varsity basketball team. People always think he's a senior when they first meet him; he just has that excitable, experienced aura around him.

Jay

He's a junior, but he was pushed up a grade at a young age since he was so darned smart. Especially for the small town he grew up in. So, he's 15/16.

Nya

Sophomore with a big personality. Very confident, so, like her brother, people assume she's a senior. She's 15/16, though. Most would think that someone like her would be super mature, but she's actually very childish at heart.

Lloyd

He's the youngest, meaning he's a freshman who still hasn't figured himself out yet. Thinking just a year below Nya, so either 14 of 15. The year he spent alone in middle school when everyone was off in high school was the worst year in his life.

2. Extracurriculars

Zane

The tech whiz who secretly runs the school's underground robotics club. He's the mastermind behind all the impressive tech gadgets used by the students, from advanced calculators to covert communication devices.

Cole

The unofficial leader of the school's parkour team, known for his daring stunts and fearless attitude. Despite his tough exterior, he's also the go-to guy for heartfelt advice and support. The team often just goes to him for a shoulder to lean on, but after practice is over, he's still considered a loner.

Kai

The star point guard of the school's basketball team, leading the Ninjago Dragons to victory with his sharp shooting skills. Despite his competitive nature on the court, he's also known for his infectious enthusiasm and willingness to lend a helping hand to his teammates. With his charismatic personality and natural leadership abilities, Kai is not just a sports star but also a beloved figure in the school community.

Jay

The ingenious inventor behind the school's technology club, known for his brilliant creations and knack for problem-solving. Despite his quiet and introverted nature, Jay's creativity knows no bounds, and he's always willing to lend his expertise to help his fellow students with their projects. With his shy demeanor and gentle spirit, Jay may not seek the spotlight, but his contributions behind the scenes make him indispensable.

Nya

The captain of the school's debate team, known for her sharp wit and fierce debating skills. She's a force to be reckoned with in any argument, but also has a softer side when it comes to supporting her friends.

Lloyd

He doesn't attend any clubs. Sometimes, he just sits in the shadows of whatever meeting the other ninja are running.

[sorcerer-felix]

Cocksure in the Corporate World

Anonym hat gefragt:

Loved your last story. I am a female just trying to make it in a man's world. Can you show me what a life as a man would be like? I work in the corporate world.

In the bustling headquarters of a renowned corporation, you sat at your desk, meticulously reviewing the day's work. Your curly brown hair, a touch of casualness in an otherwise professional ensemble, frames your focused face. As a Senior Administrative Manager, you've climbed the corporate ladder with dedication and precision, ensuring every task for the Singapore branch is executed flawlessly. Your attention to detail is legendary among your colleagues, who often seek your guidance.

Especially Peter, your neighbor at the adjacent desk, seemed to rely on your support more than anyone else. Peter, a few years your junior, is the antithesis of your meticulous nature. His charm and intelligence are undeniable, but his approach to work is carefree, almost reckless. He's the life of the office, always sharing stories of his latest romantic conquests, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

As you finished up the report, you can't help but reflect on your relationship with Peter. He's like a little brother to you, always in need of guidance, especially when it comes to his work. You've been cleaning up after him for years, ensuring his reports are accurate and his deadlines are met. Despite his lack of attention to detail, he's intelligent and likable, always bringing a smile to your face with his antics.

Suddenly, a hush fall over the office as your boss called Peter into his chamber. You exchanged a concerned look with Peter, who shrugged nonchalantly and headed into the meeting. You knew he's been a bit lax with his work lately, and you couldn't help but worry. "I've told you to be more careful, Peter," you muttered under your breath as you watched him go. "But don't fret, we'll sort this out." Time seemed to crawl as you waited for Peter's return. Finally, he emerged from the boss's office, a broad smile plastered on his face. "You'll never guess what!" he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. "The boss offered me the Team Head position in Singapore!" Your jaw dropped, and for a moment, you couldn't find your voice. You were happy for Peter, but the promotion stings. You've been working tirelessly, putting in long hours, and yet Peter, with his carefree attitude, has leapfrogged over you. "That's wonderful, Peter," you managed to say, forcing a smile. "Congratulations."

As you congratulated him, a part of you wondered if it's because he's a man. You shake your head, dismissing the thought. You've always believed in your abilities and worked hard to prove yourself in this male-dominated industry. Before you could dwell further, your boss called you into his office. You straightened your blazer and took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "Emily, I wanted to discuss the last report," your boss began, his tone serious. "There was a minor error in the footnotes." You felt your face flush, knowing full well that you pride yourself on your accuracy. "I apologize, sir. It won't happen again." "I expect better from you, Emily. Attention to detail is crucial in this role." He leaned forward, his expression stern. “See that it doesn't, Emily. Precision is key in our line of work. You're a valuable asset because of your attention to detail, but we need everyone to be on the same page." The frustration bubbled up, and you blurted out, "Or what? Will I get promoted like Peter? He's the one who made the mistake in the first place!" Your boss fixed you with a steady gaze. "Emily, you are precise and accurate, but Peter has leadership qualities. He inspires people, and look at how he's influenced you. You've been doing his work without complaint."

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of emotions—anger, betrayal, and a hint of embarrassment. You nodded, choosing to remain professional, but inside, you were seething. Needing a moment to collect yourself, you head down to the café in the building's lobby. As you waited for your coffee, your mind raced. Is Peter really getting ahead because he's a man? You clenched your fists, the steam from your coffee mirroring the heat in your veins. "You look like you could use a friend," a voice said, breaking your train of thought. You looked up to see a handsome young man with sparkling blue eyes and stylish blond hair. He was wearing a white silk suit, an unusual choice for the corporate setting.

"I'm Felix," he introduced himself with a charming smile. "You look like you've had a rough day. Care to talk about it?" There's something innocent and disarming about his demeanor, and you found yourself spilling your frustrations to this stranger. You felt a physical pull towards him, a sensation you haven't experienced in a while. So, you told him about Peter's promotion, your boss's comments, and your concerns about gender bias. "I would give my life to understand the man's world," you sighed, more to yourself than to Felix. Felix' eyes twinkled with mischief. "Deal," he said, and a blue light emanated from his palms, enveloping you in a surreal glow. The world went dark, and when you regained consciousness, everything felt... different.

Your senses were heightened, and you were acutely aware of your surroundings. But something was off. You tried to speak, but no words came out. Panic rose within you as you realized you couldn't move. Then, a familiar voice echoed in your mind, “What the hell just happened?” It was Peter, and he sounded just as confused. “Emily? Is that you?” “Yes, it's me!” you responded, relief flooding through you. “But what's going on? Why can't I move?” “I... I think you're me now. Or rather, you're my...” Peter's voice trailed off as he took in the situation. Your mind cleared, and the realization hit you both at once. You, Emily, had become Peter's penis. Your consciousness was intertwined with his, and you could feel his emotions as if they were your own. The only remnants of your former self were the curly brown locks on Peter's head and the impressive appendage dangling between his legs. Peter, now aware of your presence, turned to Felix, who was still standing nearby, a satisfied grin on his face. "What did you do? Why is Emily... why am I...?" Felix's playful demeanor remained unchanged. "She wanted to understand the man's world, so I granted her wish. Now she can experience it firsthand." He leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Do you wish it to be different?" Peter's eyes widened in fear. He shook his head, his thoughts flooding with images of potential transformations. "No, I... I don't want to change anything. I just want to understand what's happening." Felix laughed, a light, carefree sound. "Then enjoy the experience! It's not every day you get to share a mind with your colleague's most prized possession."

As Felix walked away, Peter's panic set in. He had a few days off to prepare for his move to Singapore, and now he had to deal with this—with you. “I can't believe this is happening,” he thought. “And you're in my head, reading my every thought!” “I know, I'm sorry. But we have to figure out how to fix this,” you pleaded. “We need to find Felix and make him change us back!” Peter's thoughts turned to his promotion and the responsibilities that awaited him in Singapore. “I can't risk changing anything right now. I need to focus on my new role. Besides, I never knew you felt that way about my promotion. You were jealous?” “I... yes. I guess I was. I worked so hard, and I thought I deserved it more than you did. I'm sorry, Peter,” you admitted, feeling embarrassed by your own thoughts. Peter was quiet for a moment, considering your words. “It's okay. I understand. But I can't risk going back to Felix. Not yet. I need to get used to this... new situation.” Later that evening, Peter stood in front of the mirror, examining his new appearance. He ran his fingers through the curly brown hair, once a part of you, now framed his face, and he considered cutting it. "Please, don't," you pleaded in his mind. "I loved my hair. It's all I have left of my old self." Peter's hand hovered over the scissors, then dropped to his side. "Fine, I'll keep it," he conceded.

He looked down at his body, now enhanced by your presence, and his eyes landed on his crotch. He cupped his hands around you, and you twitched involuntarily at his touch. “I have to admit, the extra length and girth feel pretty good,” he thought with a smirk. “Don't you dare!” you screamed in his mind, as you realized his intention to pleasure himself. Peter jumped, startled by your outburst, and quickly withdrew his hand. “Okay, okay! I won't. But you're part of me now, and I can't help but notice how much better I look and feel.”

As Peter sat down to review the reports, you felt a sense of urgency. The documents contained crucial information about the Singapore branch, and you knew every detail had to be scrutinized. But Peter, never one for meticulousness, skimmed through the pages, his eyes barely grazing the words. “Slow down,” you urged him mentally, your voice a mere whisper in his mind. “We need to go over these carefully.” He sighed, frustration evident in his tone. “Emily, I just want to get a general idea. I’ll read them thoroughly later.” “But—” You tried to protest, but he cut you off. “I need a break. I’ll head to the gym, clear my head. We can finish this later.” You felt a surge of annoyance. This was not how you would approach such an important task. But as you were now a part of Peter, your influence was limited. At the gym, Peter went through his workout routine, his movements fluid and effortless. You couldn’t help but admire his physical prowess, but your focus remained on the reports. “Peter, we should get back to the office. Those reports won’t read themselves.” He grunted as he lifted a set of weights, his muscles straining. “Later. I need to blow off some steam first.” Your frustration grew with each passing minute. “Peter, please, we can’t afford to waste time. This is important!” Suddenly, his mental voice boomed in your shared consciousness, making you flinch. “That is my life, Emily! You are just my cock now, so shut up!” The force of his words took you aback. You had not expected such a powerful assertion of dominance. You felt a momentary silence, a realization that your influence over him was not as strong as you had hoped. Peter finished his workout, his body glistening with sweat. As he stepped into the shower, you felt the warm water cascading over your shared body, a strange sensation that you were still adjusting to. “These long hairs are getting in the way,” he thought, running his fingers through the curly locks. “I should get a haircut.” “No!” you protested, a sense of panic rising within you. “Please, don’t cut it. It’s a part of me, of who I was.”

He ignored your plea, and soon, Peter found himself in a barber’s chair, the familiar brown curls falling around him, a stark contrast to the stylish short cut that remained. “Yes, finally,” he thought, looking at his reflection with satisfaction. “I’m back to myself.” You felt a pang of loss, a sense of your former self slipping away.

But there was no time to mourn as the evening unfolded and Peter settled in to watch some TV. The remote clicked, and the screen flickered, landing on a channel you never expected to see. "Whoa, porn!" Peter's eyes widened, and you felt a rush of blood, a sensation you had never experienced before. "Stop!" you screamed in his mind. "This is inappropriate! We can't just—" "No, Emily," Peter interrupted, his voice firm. "I'm not changing the channel. I'm a man, and this is what men do. You're a part of me now, so deal with it." You felt violated, exposed, as his hand reached down, cupping you, his cock, possessively. "No, please," you begged, your voice weak. "This is wrong." "It's not wrong, it's natural," Peter said, his voice low and husky. "You're my cock now, and you'll do what cocks do." Peter’s hand wrapped around you, stroking, massaging. “This is my life,” he said, his voice low and determined. “You’re a part of me, and this is what I need.” You tried to resist, but the sensations overwhelmed you. Your protests turned to desperate moans as pleasure consumed you. “Yes... more...” you found yourself begging, your thoughts becoming incoherent as the pleasure intensified. “Faster... please...” Peter’s hand moved in rhythm with your desperate pleas, and you felt yourself nearing the brink. “Yes... so... horny...” you screamed in his mind as the climax hit. The release was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a burst of ecstasy that left you trembling. As the pleasure subsided, you felt a mix of emotions—exhaustion, satisfaction, and a strange sense of shame. You had been reduced to a mere instrument of pleasure, and despite your resistance, you had relished the experience. Peter, seemingly unaffected by the moral implications, turned off the TV and headed to bed, leaving you to process the events of the day. You were now more than ever aware of your new reality and the challenges that lay ahead.

The journey to Singapore was a blur of airports, planes, and jet lag. As you dangled between Peter's legs, the excitement of this new chapter in his life is palpable. But something has shifted within you, Emily. The assertiveness you once possessed has faded, and you find yourself hesitating to offer suggestions or voice your thoughts. Perhaps it was the way he firmly established his dominance during that intimate moment, but you can't deny the change in dynamics.

As Peter stepped into the bustling office, you felt his nerves, but also his determination. He was ready to take on this challenge, and you couldn't help but admire his spirit. The day flew by in a blur of meetings and introductions. Peter was charming and charismatic, effortlessly navigating the corporate world. "That went well," Peter thought to himself as he sat at his new desk.

You felt a twinge of unease as you realized your influence over him was waning. "Hey, I'm still Emily!" you protested in his mind as the days went by, your voice becoming more desperate. You wanted to remind him of your identity, of the person you were before this transformation. But Peter, focused on his new responsibilities and the excitement of a foreign city, barely registered your plea. "Ey, get used to it, you're just my cock now!" he snapped back, his thoughts already drifting to the challenges and opportunities that lay ahead.

But something unexpected happened the following morning, something that would change the course of your existence yet again. "What's this?" Peter murmured, his eyes still heavy with sleep. You didn't know what was happening, but suddenly, you felt a surge of blood rushing into your shaft, hardening you, greeting Peter with a morning erection. "Whoa, good morning to you too," he chuckled, stroking you gently. "Seems like you're settling into your new role quite nicely." You wanted to protest, to scream at him to stop, but the pleasure that coursed through your cock-body was overwhelming. You had become a willing participant in your own objectification, and the realization hit you hard. "Oh, Emily, you're really getting the hang of this," Peter mused, his fingers wrapping around you in a familiar grip.

You tried to protest, to remind him of your identity, but the words failed to form in your mind. It was as if your consciousness was muted, able only to experience the physical sensations. "There, there," Peter cooed, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your new form. "No need to be shy. Embrace your new role." And as he stroked you, you can't help but agree. The feeling was intense, overwhelming, and you found yourself greeting Peter with this eager hardness each morning. "You're finally behaving like a proper cock should," Peter said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "I knew you'd come around."  Peter, satisfied, went about his morning routine, ready to take on the day with renewed vigor. As the days passed, you found yourself becoming more attuned to Peter's desires. Your once-scrupulous nature, the drive to make him more precise in his work, was fading. Instead, you found yourself drawn to the very essence of your new form. "Look at that one, Peter," you'd whisper in his mind, directing his attention to a beautiful woman walking by. "Not now, my cock," he'd respond, his focus unwavering during important meetings. But you knew that later, in the privacy of his apartment, he would indulge in the fantasies you planted in his mind. "I'm losing myself," you thought, the realization hitting you with a pang of sadness. "I'm becoming nothing but a tool for his pleasure." But even as you fought against this new reality, you couldn't deny the pleasure it brought. You were becoming Peter's cock, and with each passing day, your former aims and desires were shifting, aligning with your new form's primary purpose: to fuel Peter's lust and make him the virile stud he was always meant to be. Your wish to understand the life of a man was being fulfilled in ways you never imagined.

It was a typical workday, and as Peter stepped into his office, he noticed a familiar yet unfamiliar face. Felix, the young intern, has arrived, but Peter didn't recognize him from their previous encounter. Felix, the young sorcerer who granted your ill-fated wish, stand before Peter's desk, a hint of mischief in his sparkling blue eyes.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of your old self, captivated by Felix's charm. "Welcome, Felix," Peter said, his voice smooth and confident. He motioned to the chair in front of the desk, his demeanor that of a seasoned leader. "I'm glad you could join us for this internship." Felix's innocent smile send a shiver of anticipation through you. "I'm excited to learn from the best, Peter." As Peter began to explain the corporate structure, his hand subconsciously reached out, gently caressing Felix' head. You, as Peter's cock, stir with newfound power, your length growing in his pants. Peter's words became huskier, his actions bolder. "In this world, a clear hierarchy is crucial. Respect and submission are the keys to success." Felix's eyes widened slightly, but he remained still, a willing participant in this unexpected seduction. "I... I understand, Peter." Peter's fingers trailed down Felix's neck, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness. "Submission is a powerful tool, Felix. It can unlock doors and grant you access to realms you never imagined." Before Felix could respond, Peter's hands were on his waist, lifting him onto the desk.

You felt Peter's breath quicken, his desire fueled by your influence. "You see, Felix, in this world, I'm the one in control." Felix's breath caught as Peter's lips found his, and you, revel in the sensation of power. Peter's actions were guided by your desires, his straight facade crumbled under your control. Peter's hands moved to Felix's hips, pulling him closer, his own body responding to the lust you've ignited. "Yes, Peter," Felix whispered, playing along with innocent fervor. "Show me... show me how it's done." Peter's hand moved lower, unzipping his own pants, revealing your rigid form, now fully erect. Peter's breath was hot against Felix's ear as he whispered, "Just relax and enjoy, my boy. It's all part of the learning process." Felix' body arched as Peter entered him, his eyes squeezing shut as he bite his lip to stifled a moan. Peter's thrusts were slow and deliberate, his cock, your body, filling Felix with a pleasurable burn. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the office, accompanied by Felix' soft whimpers and Peter's grunts of exertion. "Yes... I... I understand, sir." Felix moaned, his hands gripping the desk as Peter's thrusts became more urgent. Peter's chuckle was deep and sensual. "That's it, Felix. Let go and submit to your desires. It's the only way to truly understand the corporate world." As Peter's movements became more urgent, his tie, still hanging around his neck, swing with each thrust, a symbol of his dominance. Felix' moans filled the office, a sweet melody of surrender. In this moment, you realized the extent of your power. You can control Peter, bend him to your will, and even alter his sexual orientation. The thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Felix' thoughts betrayed his innocent facade, "Impressive how...” he trails off, not remembering your name, the name of the woman who once was “ ….his cock has made Peter at least bi or even gay and so dominant. But I, Felix, the sorcerer, will show him his place soon enough." Unaware of Felix' inner monologue, you continued to guide Peter, reveling in the sensation of being his driving force, the very essence of his desire.

As Peter collapsed onto Felix, you felt a sense of triumph. You've controlled him, made him dance to your tune. You are no longer just a cock, but a powerful force, capable of bending others to your will. Felix's innocent act and your manipulation of Peter's desire have created a puppet on strings, and you intend to keep pulling those strings. In that moment, you realized your transformation is complete. You are no longer Emily, the meticulous administrator. You are a force of nature, a tool of pleasure, and you will shape Peter into the virile stud you desire - with his head crowned in luscious brown curls.

[tacitoru]

pleaser (2) - gojo satoru ; geto suguru

pairing: gojo satoru/reader/geto suguru

summary: You wish someone would have told you how lonely college would be. Classmates and other students outside the newspaper staff keep you at arm's length. People tend to give you a wide berth. It's no big deal - for a journalist, you are laughably not a people person. Small talk makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Relationships are tedious. People are finicky and prone to lying. Unreliable. Getting close to the star players on the university's basketball team was only supposed to be a means to an end. And then it's a little more than that.

rating: explicit (eventual smut)

tw: basketball!au, enemies to lovers, journalism

wc: 4k

ch: 2/5

read on ao3

Then

“Your eyes will get stuck like that.” 

Your editor-in-chief is not at all surprised to find you sulking. Shoulders slumped, arms crossed as you glare petulantly across the foyer of the student union. You don’t play aloof very well.

She stands shoulder to shoulder with you and follows your gaze. 

In the distance, two basketball players donning signature sky blue jerseys draw a crowd near the student government office. They stand out among the sea of milling students like skyscrapers. The swath of unnaturally white - surely he wasn’t born like that? - hair on the tallest one is even less helpful in helping him blend in. A few passerby stutter in their steps trying to catch a glimpse of their faces. The young men have their backs to where the pair of you observe, in the middle of addressing the small audience. A mix of student government and faculty, the source of your ire stands amongst them. Kento Nanami stands at the head of the crowd with his smartphone in one hand and a tape recorder in the other held just slightly above the sea of heads. His blond hair and crisp blue button-up make him easy to pick out from the gang of suits. 

When snark doesn’t draw your full attention, Utahime calls your name instead. “You look like you’re about to cry.”

Furrowing your lips, your frown deepens. “Who the fuck even carries around a real tape recorder anymore? Does he not have the app on his phone?”

Your pseudo-boss shoulder checks you. Never one to miss an opportunity to play morality police. “Don’t be obnoxious,” she admonishes in what you think she thinks is her gentlest tone. “Not everybody has a smartphone.”

“He’s holding one, Utahime,” you snark back. 

The animosity catches you both off guard. You’re not typically one to be confrontational. In all of your years on the university’s newspaper staff, you’d suppose you’re akin to a fly on the wall. A floater, you’ve moved from section to section at the dismissal of the lead editors each year. It wasn’t that you were an incompetent writer so much as it was that no topic seemed to really stick with you. Student leadership wouldn’t let you go if they could help it - it was easier to keep and train staff members than to recruit. But they would never promote you - there was always somebody who fit the bill just a little bit better, who wrote with a little more flare. You were nearing the end of your senior year anyway. It was too late to even consider.

You’ve never really minded - never minded anything at all, really. The fact that almost all of the leadership was a year younger than you. Or the fact that you were consistently assigned fluff writing. That you had been skipped time and time again for any chance at covering anything more important than the carpets in the library being updated from green to gray, or minor changes to a dining hall’s dietary restrictions.

A perfect passive participant on staff, you follow all the rules. Do every story they assign you. More often than not, it’s the ones nobody else wants to bother with. They offer you some sort of loose camaraderie in return; a pat on the shoulder, a lukewarm invite to be a plus one to a holiday party. All of the necessary tools for social survival in college.  The news, cultures, and opinion columns shuffled you around semester by semester like a cumbersome stage prop. Comfortably standing in the shadow of your peers. You never ask for anything.

So you decide to be a little nicer to Utahime, to whom all this attitude must be coming out of left field.  

Never taking your eyes off the crowd, you ask with a little less bite, “Did they tell you when the press conference is yet?”

They , as in the athletics department, had been keeping zip tight on the details of the university basketball team’s newest arrivals since they had touched down in the States over the weekend. The pair of you watch as the shorter one, a young man (albeit still a full head taller than most of his audience) with black gauges and his hair pulled into a bun, delivers a short comment that causes a laugh to ripple through their onlookers. You think you see even Nanami, of all people, crack a smile. It’s hard to tell for sure from this distance.

It wasn’t unusual for the staff on the student newspaper to share tips and ideas or track events on campus together, but it’s irregular for you to be among them. There was no need to ask for help when your stories were practically written out for you. Today however, you had kept a keen eye out for your fellow writers on campus, ear to the ground all morning as you sought out some kind of - any kind of - hook that could solidify your claim to what was sure to be one of the most memorable feature story of the year: the athletics department's annual exchange student program.

“Do they allow players to wear gauges on the court?”

“You’re asking me a lot of questions for somebody that’s not assigned to this beat.” Utahime sighs. The awkward moment rolls off her shoulders with an ease you’re becoming familiar with. “I’m not giving you a press pass.”

“I - okay?” You wilt a little, shoulders slumped as Utahime takes the next question right out of your mouth. “I didn’t even say anything. That’s not even what I asked.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it all over your face-,” You duck the graze of her knuckle as she moves to brush a faux tear, but the unimpressed look on her face remains. “But no. I haven’t heard anything from the coaches yet.”

You try and fail to hide your disappointment. You refuse to pout in front of your boss. Utahime had a softer spot for you than most of your fellow staff members - as a writer who had been on staff for so long with little to no promotion or department to call home in all four years of your college career, whispers of questions around the validity of keeping you on staff started to circulate well into the winter semester.

“Why were you so interested in doing this feature anyway? I got the feeling you didn’t like writing for this kind of stuff.” You never ask for favors; she tells you as much. “I’m just surprised, is all.” 

From your peripheral, Utahime looks at you curiously, a hand on her chin. Maybe it was because she was a year younger than you, and pitied the disposition she found you in after being elected into the chief position. But even that softness only went so far.

You shake your head, still watching the crowd from across the lobby. The taller basketball player, the white-haired guy, sticks out among the crowd like a dandelion, bending and swaying to an invisible breeze while he crowds into the space of his teammate. You crinkle your nose - his posture is surprisingly terrible.

“Kind of stuff?”

“Y’know, just - sports? Your strong suits have been more like…like, what kinds of water bottles have been popular on campus! Oh, or that listicle you did of all of the best fall-themed soundtracks-,”

“-that we published in the spring -,” 

Utahime waves you off. “That’s not the point.” 

She launches into a reassuring ramble, throwing a hand up when you don’t start to look any more appeased. The motion seems to catch Nanami’s attention from across the foyer’s open floor. He doesn’t crack a smile, but waves at the pair of you with his phone-holding hand, polite as ever. You wave back. When he turns away, your pout melts into a grimace. Tuning Utahime out, your eyes wander back to the head of the crowd, only to choke on your gasp. You’ve also inadvertently caught the attention of one of the exchange students - and he looks pissed . 

From where he stands, the white-haired wonder boy has twisted the whole top half of his body to bless you with the ugliest look of contempt you’ve ever had the displeasure of witnessing in your short life. He only rights himself when his dark-haired teammate corrals his focus back to the congregation ahead of them with a gentle hand on his shoulder. It’s enough of an interruption to make you turn your whole back on the entire debacle in embarrassment.

Utahima continues to do her best impression of placating you, hands folded above her chest as she pleads. “- And, you know, it would just be a lot easier for everybody, really, to give this to somebody who already knows if players are allowed to wear gauges on the court, and other frivolous shit like that instead of wasting time asking me.”

You make a noise like a laugh through your nose, thinking of what she considers your strong suits. “Okay.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the objects of your interest begin to make their way out of the front of the building, enticing their crowd of university staff and students along with them. An underclassman tries to give the white-haired man a high-five in passing. He dismisses him with a shrug. Your resolve wavers. You follow all the rules. You never ask for anything.

“Look,” Utahime begins in a tone that makes you think uh oh. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re a capable writer. I hated turning you down so publicly at the staff meeting, and there’s no doubt that your contributions to the paper have been -,” she searches for a word “- impactful to our student body. But I need somebody who’s going to do this feature, um, quietly. I mean look how much attention those two are drawing and it’s not even time for lunch yet.” 

Two girls run straight into each other, phones clattering to the ground, their eyes glued to the spectacle making its way out of the building. You can’t help but snicker, a little less forlorn. Requesting to cover the feature story for the exchange students had been the first time you had stuck your neck out for yourself, only to be succinctly rejected in front of your peers. Utahime hadn’t even the decency to pretend to hesitate. At least you’re not the only one making a fool of yourself today.

Utahime fixes you with a look that makes you straighten up a little, all business.

“I want to get this right the first time, and it’s already going to be hard between the fangirls, the fanboys , and the limited press access during the season. Can you promise me that you won’t try to butt in?”

In lieu of answering Utahime’s question, you ask, “You’ll let me know when they do, right? When you hear back from them.”

Somehow, she manages to glare harder.

You suck your teeth, sigh, and relent, “I promise.”

The editor-in-chief doesn't look entirely convinced, but the severe expression on her face relaxes nonetheless. “There’s no need to worry,” Utahime’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she turns on her heels as she checks the notification, effectively closing the conversation. “Nanami will do this piece justice.”

The two exchange students stride towards the exit, seemingly now caught up in their own little world as they chuckle amongst themselves, hardly minding the entourage that follows. The afternoon sun floods the glass double doors with a bright light, and you watch after them as they push through. 

“But that’s what I’m worried about,” you mumble, resign, and follow her into the office.

You wish someone would have told you how lonely college would be. 

Classmates and people outside of the newspaper staff tended to keep you at arm's length once they learned of your extracurriculars, mostly for fear of one day seeing themselves among the crisp pages of the biweekly print. It was all in vain; in your four years being juggled between columns, you had never aired out anyone’s dirty laundry. You were diligent in your moral code, however gray. People tended to give you a wide berth nonetheless.

It was no sweat off your back - for a journalist you are laughably not a people person. Small talk made you want to crawl out of your skin. Relationships were tedious. People were finicky and prone to lying. Unreliable. Their stories, however - actually, maybe just as much so, but that was an entirely different thrill. And yet as graduation crept closer, your lackluster portfolio mocked you far worse than your meager contacts list. Submitting job applications felt like shooting blanks at a target while blindfolded. You needed a miracle - and fast. 

It’s just your luck that the evening you are the last to lock up the student newspaper office, two miraculous things happen at once: the lead sports editor forgets his press pass at his desk just as two of Japan’s highest-ranking athletes in men’s college basketball officially announce their transfer to your institution as part of some long-running good-will exchange program.

The first anomaly is sports editor Kento Nanami’s sudden bout of forgetfulness. In his rush to make it to the press conference early, he had left the badge on his desk. You’re nice enough to promise to drop by the auditorium where it’s being held, telling him as much over text. Your peer responds with the same level of dryness you’ve come to associate with him.

Thanks. Read 6:46 PM.

The whole thing already felt like a bad omen.

Enter anomaly number two, the two Japanese exchange students joining your school’s record-holding Division One basketball team for the year. The news had spread like wildfire across the campus of your large liberal arts college before it had even reached the newspaper. It was never a matter of why the exchange program was happening.

The university boasted an extremely impressive men’s basketball team that dominated the American college league in every sense of the word. Armed with a history of individuals who went on to become some of the highest-paid athletes in the NBA and a team of coaches with a tremendous wealth of experience, your sleepy liberal arts school has made a name for itself in the world of college-level athletics. It was inevitable that other institutions would want a piece of the pie, and Tokyo University had long established their in.

It was never a matter of why, but who.

They’re gorgeous. Inarguably so. A pair of athletes in a league of their own amongst their peers both in the States and on their home turf, both parties of which you’ve witnessed trip over themselves in a clumsy dichotomy of disdainful and overbearing eagerness already in the short time you’ve spent observing the team. Youthful, dripping raw athleticism, handsome beyond words, and worst of all, they know it - the smarmy one with shocking white hair tells you as much when you meet for the first time in the elevator.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Satoru Gojo had every right to be brash and vainglorious. More popularly referred to by his last name, the famed shooting guard from Kyoto boasts an impressive track record under his belt, stats that put even the shiniest American college basketball players to shame. His inhuman height and athleticism make him a living nightmare to oppose. The strongest , the tabloids and play-by-play sports podcasts had labeled him. Even Nanami, of all people, had described him as a monster on the court. The lead sports editor is not the type to give compliments lightly - if that could even be considered one. But if Satoru Gojo is scary on paper, he’s fucking terrifying in person.

Heat crawls up your neck, and spills onto your cheeks, your gaze quickly returns to the floor. “Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed. Without even having introduced yourself, you’ve somehow managed to tick him off twice in the span of a few days. 

It seems as though the universe has a sense of humor tonight. You had rushed across campus to the auditorium, press pass held in your iron-fisted grip in an attempt to beat the clock. Only to end up in the elevator crammed between the very two people you’d been hoping to catch a glimpse of on your way out. While you had been hoping for some sort of miracle to be tossed your way, this..this was…

Caught off guard and underprepared, you feel brittle like a leaf in the wind under the shared weight of their gaze. Later, when you playback the recording on your phone in your pocket, you pretend not to notice when you hear your voice shake.

Suguru Getou, the other exchange student and equally formidable athlete, admonishes his teammate softly. The one who, now that you’re standing close enough to confirm, does indeed wear black gauges. His hair is loose from its bun today, inky locks tossed carelessly over one shoulder.  They both don the university’s signature jerseys once again, the cleanest they’ll probably be all season. “Satoru, please.” 

Satoru . You make note of the use of his given name, spoken gently and laced with amusement, like a parent scolding a wayward child.

You might almost believe Suguru to be sympathetic if he also didn’t look one slick comment away from laughing at your discomfort. 

“What?” His teammate flat-out whines, having complete disregard for politeness - and personal space, apparently. He reaches over and flicks the piece of plastic clutched in your hand suddenly enough that it makes you flinch.

“Ain’t this a press pass? I’m just sayin’. They’ve got, like, a whole hour to do this shit.” Gojo gripes, scratching his head. In perfect English, they talk around you. Over you, like you’re just some physical inconvenience in the middle of a conversation they were already having. You probably are. Recognizing this doesn’t make your heart race any slower.

Out of the corner of your eye, the elevator ticks closer to the mezzanine floor, where you know Kento is waiting for you. This is your chance, this is your chance!

Like an idiot, you stumble over your words, trying for something between a convincing protest and solid introduction, quickly shoving the pass into the pocket that’s empty. “No, not all! Um, actually, I did have a few-,”

The elevator dings, announcing your arrival. Internally, you swear. Twice your build and stature, Gojo shoulders you on the way out without a second glance, nearly rocking you off of your feet.  Over his shoulder, he wags his finger at you. “Ah, ah, no head starts.”

Suguru is at least polite enough to offer a smile, albeit one you can’t determine if it's sympathetic or pitiful. He gives you a once over, so quickly you might have imagined it. “Good luck out there.”

Stepping out into the hall, you watch half-stunned as the two teammates swagger in the opposite direction of your destination, off to where you assume their coach and athletic staff await. 

Could you have possibly fumbled the ball any harder? You fiddle with your phone on the way to where Kento said he was last sitting, pausing your recording.  Fumble? No, that’s football. What’s the basketball equivalent..?

Your colleague paces anxiously in the top row of the mezzanine, waiting for you to pass off his badge. If you had been paying close enough attention, you might even say he was nervous for once. Any other day, that’d be something you’d revel in. But tonight, caught up in your train of thought, you miss the look that crosses his face when you hand him the press pass without so much as a greeting. 

“Are you okay?” He asks warily, more so out of obligation than kindness. You remember with stark clarity where he had been sitting at the staff meeting when Utahime rejected your request to cover the story - his stoic, unflinching expression when she announced it had been assigned to him. You had hardly been able to look him in the eye since. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“What do you call a fumble in basketball?”

Kento goes from overly cautious to puzzled. “...A fumble?”

“Ah.”

From where the pair of you stand at the height of the auditorium, the press gathered on the lower level look like a hungry, writhing mob. You observe them as they prepare for your esteemed guests, each armed with microphones and totting cameras with flash attachments the size of your fist. They face a backdrop littered with sponsorship logos, two seats, and an unimpressive table decorated in your school’s colors and laden with more microphones.

Kento moves to head to the elevator, only to hesitate at your contemplative look.

“Does this…” he sighs and starts over, fiddling with the pass slung around his neck. “I can’t bring you with me down there.”

“I know.”

“Or to any of the games.”

“I know.”

“Or interviews.”

You glance up, facing him full-on for the first time in days. Scanning his features for any sign of mockery. “...Okay.”

“But between this and the rest of the sports for this season, I’ve got my hands full.” On stage, the head coach appears to greet the slew of reporters, thanking them for coming out tonight. He begins to say a few words about the exchange students and the history of the exchange program. Kento’s eye twitches - you can feel him getting antsy. “I’m fine taking notes, but I could use some help with the drafting.”

A feeling wells up inside your chest. Amid all of the dejection, the disappointment, the worry - a glimmer of hope had appeared. Somebody was finally giving you a chance.

He offers his hand but you’re slow to take it. Eyes narrowed, you tell him rather than ask, “And I get credit.”

“Partial,” he acquiesces. “And we’ll be on the front page.”

The clamor beneath you begins to grow louder, and your colleague lurches back like he’ll jump over the balcony if that's what it will take to make it down there on time. Steel-eyed, you snatch Kento’s hand in yours before he can take anything back. 

“Deal.”

The crowd below you erupts into a thunderous roar of cheers. 

<< prev.

[soaringcore]

Aurelio 33-year-old senior officer of the american Army

(..) who stands out for his leadership qualities and his dedication to the service. As the eldest of seven siblings, he is not only a natural leader, but also a protector and mentor for his younger siblings. This role has shaped him and taught him values such as responsibility, discipline and team spirit.

[perfectsunlight]

09 ⸺ BORED

warnings: cheating, mildly suggestive

word count: 2.2k

part of the series: LOGICAL

minatozaki sana fell in love with nakamura kazuha on the first day of summer volleyball practice. 

zuha started was a transfer student from overseas. and she had a single dorm at the time, meaning she wasn’t able to meet any of her teammates until the first day of pre-season training. 

sana never remembered a lot of things in her life, but meeting kazuha would definitely be something she’d never forget.

sana’s ponytail swayed as she practiced her hitting approach against the net. her thoughts were too occupied with the long list of things to get done before the first game of the season. however, she was so far lost in her own thoughts that she stepped incorrectly, causing her to fall backwards.

she quickly felt panic set in, but it was short lived when she collided into a pair of strong arms.

startled, sana blinked up into the face of her savior. to her surprise, it was a face she didn’t recognize.

the other girl laughed softly, looking down at her captain. “are you okay?” she gently smiled as she helped sana stand back up.

sana was mesmerized by the taller girl, taking in her features fully as she nodded. the other girl was definitely japanese, causing her to remember that the team was getting a transfer student this year.

“are you the transfer?” she asked as she quickly dusted herself off and played with the ends of her ponytail. 

her savior nodded with a smile that sana could swore was cursed, that’s why she felt her heart beating out of her chest. she stretched her hand out and locked eyes with the older girl.

“i’m kazuha, nice to meet you.”

and when sana took her hand to shake, she knew there was something special about kazuha. not the kind of special that she sees in others, but rather a type of special that made her want to spend her entire life holding her hand.

“i’m sana.”

as the summer went on and the fall season approached, sana found herself drawn to the other girl’s company both on and off the court. they shared moments after practice, laughing over inside jokes and discussing strategies to outplay their opponents. 

kazuha could be talking about anything in the world, and sana would listen to her forever.

soon enough, their connection had grown stronger. sana's feelings for kazuha had grown into an undeniable attraction. she found herself daydreaming about the younger girl, thinking about her infectious laughter and the way her eyes lit up when she was excited about something. 

to sana, kazuha was everything. 

the lingering scent on sana’s clothes from when the two hugged, the way the younger girl’s head rested on her shoulder when they sat together on the bench, and even the way zuha’s water bottle was always right next to the captain’s all were reminders of the girl she was falling for.

it was obvious to everyone — minatozaki sana was in love. 

her world revolved around the younger girl. morning, noon, and night, all sana could think about was kazuha. it was a natural thought process for her, and she saw the younger girl in everything she did, even outside of volleyball.

zuha didn’t think dating her senior captain was something that was ever even a possibility for her.

there are two types of volleyball players in the world—the amazing and the average. 

sana was above amazing. she was truly outstanding.

she was the type of player people were terrified of, and she didn’t need to be anywhere near the ball to prove it.

sana moved in way that were both mesmerizing and intimidating. her eyes, sharp and focused, scanned the court with a predatory precision that sent shivers down the spines of opponents. even coaches knew they had to truly work for points if sana was present on the court. her reputation as a fierce competitor preceded her. even her leadership style was both assertive and inspiring, turning her into a natural captain. 

teammates respected her, rivals feared her, and coaches marveled at her innate ability to bring out the best in everyone around her. she was the perfect player, and an even more perfect person.

the running joke was that everyone in the university had a crush on sana at one point, but zuha never imagined she would be a statistic of the matter.

kazuha didn’t realize she had fallen in love with her captain until sana knelt down and tied her shoes for her before she stepped onto the court.

zuha had been in a rush that day because she overslept by just 10 minutes. it was actually 30 minutes, but she likes to remember it as only 10. by the time she made it inside the gym, she had almost put her kneepads on inside out because of how fast she was rushing.

coach wendy was already doing roll call, and before she could even take a step further, she saw her captain rush up to her and quickly bend down.

“what are you doing?” the confused girl asked, looking down to make sure she didn’t embarrass herself and actually put her kneepads on inside out.

sana’s eyes flickered up to the younger girl’s from her kneeling position, a small smile on her lips. her fingers quickly tightened the outside hitter’s laces.

"making sure you won’t fall," she replied with a playful glint in her eyes. the older girl rose to her feet without another word after before smiling over her shoulder as she jogged off. 

a gentle flush crossed the younger girl’s cheeks, and in that moment, she knew what had become of her heart.

kazuha didn’t physically fall once that day, but she knew she had fallen for sana. 

how couldn’t she fall for someone so gentle and kind? sana always cared about her, it was the main reason kazuha fell in love with her. 

sana just cared about everything around her in a way that was both healing and helping.

she cared about the players, the team, her schooling, the random cats that roamed the apartments, and even the plants across campus.

kazuha never had someone who cared. it felt different, it felt nice.

dating sana was a dream come true, and the younger girl knew she won the girlfriend lottery. it was easy to fall for someone who cared, and even easier to love them. 

but there was one problem. it wasn’t that zuha didn’t care, it was just that she didn’t care enough.

it started as just an occasional thought and fleeting feeling, but then it grew to be constant. despite the initial thrill and excitement of dating sana, the younger girl started feeling a sense of restlessness. the intensity of their relationship and the routines they had developed began to feel a bit too “normal” for her.

it was unfortunate, but kazuha was getting bored.

she found herself yearning for something different, something more thrilling and unpredictable. but she couldn’t do anything, she knew she couldn’t do that. she was bored, but she still loved sana. she was her girlfriend, and the love of her life, despite the relationship being an absolute drag now.

however, temptation could only be resisted for so long.

it was during dorm move-in day that she first met ahn yujin, a charming and charismatic player from the university’s basketball team. 

the japanese girl needed help moving things in since her girlfriend was out buying things from ikea, but luckily for her, yujin was happy to help her new neighbor from across the hall.

ahn yujin’s infamous reputation was one full of one night stands and a trail of broken hearts, but kazuha didn’t see how someone so charming could be capable of such things. yujin’s magnetic personality and confident demeanor immediately intrigued kazuha. 

as they exchanged playful banter while organizing boxes, kazuha felt a rush of excitement she hadn’t experienced in a while. yujin’s presence was like a breath of fresh air, a stark contrast to the familiarity and routine she had fallen into with sana. 

their casual interactions during that move-in day planted a seed of curiosity in kazuha's mind. 

despite the guilt that occasionally tugged at her conscience, she found herself seeking out yujin's company more often, drawn to the thrill of unpredictability that yujin effortlessly exuded. 

days turned into weeks, and kazuha's interest in yujin continued to grow. she rationalized her feelings, convincing herself that it was just harmless fun, a distraction from the monotony she felt in her relationship with sana. 

yet, as she spent more time with yujin, the lines between innocent curiosity and genuine attraction started to blur.

the encounters became more frequent, evolving from casual hallway chats to private conversations in secluded corners of the university campus. kazuha found herself sharing personal stories and dreams with yujin, feeling a level of excitement she hadn't felt in a long time. 

all the meanwhile, sana remained oblivious to the growing distance between them. 

she still poured her heart and soul into her relationship, unaware of the subtle shifts in kazuha's whereabouts and the cracks forming in their once-strong relationship. 

but kazuha had yet to cross the line. she knew better than to act on such thoughts, and part of her even felt perfectly fine still seeing yujin as somewhat of a crush because it wasn’t like she was acting on those thoughts.

but everything changed the night ygu beat snu in the scrimmage.

it was the night before her six month anniversary with sana, and the thought of it brought no excitement to her. 

nakamura kazuha had a perfect, loving relationship with a girl who treated her like she was the only girl in the world. and yet, she was jumping at the opportunity to throw it all away.

sana wouldn’t be coming back to their dorm until the next morning, which left zuha alone for the entire night.

it was the perfect set-up for the most immoral act. 

she stared at her phone, the messages from sana about tomorrow’s date waiting for her response, yet she couldn't bring herself to reply. the thought of spending the entire day celebrating their anniversary bored her out of her mind. 

sure, she loved sana, but enough to sit through a 14 hour anniversary itinerary? debatable.

and yet yujin, unaware of kazuha's current relationship status, sent a text suggesting they celebrate the win together. 

the thought alone sent a pulse of excitement through her veins.

the japanese girl hesitated for a moment, contemplating the implications of her actions. the rational part of her mind screamed warnings, but the allure of something different clouded her judgment.

with a mix of apprehension and anticipation, she agreed to invite the basketball player to her own dorm. 

the guilt weighed heavily on her as she sprayed on her best perfume and moved her girlfriend’s things into nearby drawers, each moment feeling like a betrayal to sana.

she couldn't deny the excitement tinged with guilt that coursed through her veins. the clock seemed to tick slower as she prepared for what she knew was a grave mistake.

but part of her felt excited. this was the most excitement she has had in weeks.

when the basketball player finally arrived with a gentle smile on her lips, kazuha felt butterflies in her stomach. they were nothing like the butterflies she got when she looked at her girlfriend. 

these felt better. 

she didn’t waste another moment, grabbing the taller girl by the collar and pulling her in for a kiss after shutting the door behind her.

“not even a hello?” yujin mumbled against the japanese girl’s lips, her smile growing as she felt the volleyball player pulling her team-issued sweater off of her. kazuha's pulse quickened at yujin's playful response. the rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins, drowning out any lingering traces of guilt. 

“stop talking.” the shorter girl husked, already feeling the heat flowing through her body. with an impulsive fervor she hadn’t felt in a long time, she leaned in closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that surprised even herself.

she couldn’t even remember the last time she kissed sana like that. 

yujin understood immediately and quickly picked up the other girl by the waist and carried her to the bedroom, unaware of the evidence of zuha and sana’s relationship scattered across the apartment. an engraved jewlerybox, a hand-print painting, and a framed photo of the two girls on their first date were all passed by without a first or even  second glace.

kazuha also didn't spare a glance at the photo on the dresser, or even forgetting that she was wearing sana’s hoodie just moments before yujin threw it across the room. it didn’t matter, her focus was fixed entirely on the way the basketball player’s lips felt on her neck. 

with swift movement, yujin gently placed zuha onto the bed, eager hands explored each other with an urgency. yujin was used to moments like this. but for kazuha, this was something entirely new. 

sana was her first everything. her first kiss, her first girlfriend, even her first time. maybe that’s why she didn’t feel too bad about it. sana had her frst, so there was no need for her girlfriend to feel second. for a moment, kazuha saw a glimpse of her girlfriend’s face in her mind. it did make her heart ache a little, but only because sana didn’t deserve this. 

however, kazuha didn’t care. her mind was made up.

because for something that was so wrong and immoral, it couldn’t have felt better at that moment. 

TAGLIST ⸺ ✭ @silantryoo @rosiehrs @niniwhiskers @cwpiqwon @jisooftme @1luvkarina @scarfac3 @santasbitch @lisas-earlobe @wallfl9wer @aerihiltonn @unforgivenangel @uzumakioden @skydreamed @haerinfangs @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @haerinkisser @giginings @lilsvx @milanlaia @pandafuriosa60 @wifey-badalee @slowlyturninggay291 @dreamingst99 @7daysronnie @thefckghost @drawing-into-the-night @xszn

CLOSED.

[darkmaga-returns]

https://en.topwar.ru/253668-the-wall-street-journal-v-komande-trampa-gotovjat-ukaz-o-chistke-generalov-vinovnyh-v-begstve-ssha-iz-afganistana.html

The Wall Street Journal: Trump's team is preparing an order to purge generals guilty of US flight from Afghanistan

Today, 10: 1726

The team of the 47th US President is currently actively working on an executive order to establish a “war council” that will have the power to remove US Army generals and admirals from their positions. fleet. This was reported by The Wall Street Journal. The publication notes that the new body may include retired generals and officers.

As commander in chief, Trump would already be able to fire any officer he wanted, something presidents rarely do for political reasons. But an outside council would be able to bypass the system by signaling to the entire military that he intends to purge a number of generals and admirals.

- notes the publication.

A draft order reviewed by The Wall Street Journal outlines that the military board will review active-duty senior military personnel, focusing on their leadership qualities and commitment to military excellence.

However, as the publication’s sources claim, the first to come under the new body’s scrutiny may be those generals whom Trump considers guilty of the shameful withdrawal of American troops from Afghanistan.

It is assumed that the military council will have the right to send recommendations to the US president on the removal of a particular general or admiral from office. Such a recommendation, as the newspaper claims, will become a kind of black mark for the military. After the corresponding recommendation lands on Donald Trump's desk, the general or admiral will be dismissed from their position within 30 days.

Let us add that earlier American media already reported that Donald Trump has prepared a so-called black list of his enemies, with whom he intends to settle accounts during his presidency. According to the press, it includes Joe Biden, Kamala Harris and several other high-ranking current and retired US politicians.

[nihilnovisubsole]

something i've been thinking about as GDC comes around again: it's amazing to sit in the same room with Real Industry People and hear the truth of why certain story decisions happened the way they did. studio games are odd group projects that take a really long time to make, and there are many irons in the fire and many interests at play. sometimes the stars align and a team gets a laser vision, creative freedom, and the budget they need, and they ship the thing they meant to ship.

but not always. if a character you love got killed off, it's entirely possible that their original writer left or they couldn't bring the voice actor back. or leadership wanted to close down old story arcs and tie up loose ends, or someone felt new characters would bring in a new audience. if a series seemed to drop a plot thread in a sequel, it's possible that the narrative team wanted to include it and it got cut for scope. or shareholders wanted to appeal to a different part of the playerbase. or the team had internal creative conflict, or any number of reasons as simple as "it got lost in the shuffle because we did so many rewrites". [important disclosure: i'm not vagueposting about specific games here. i'm just rattling possibilities off. resemblance, unintentional, etc.]

and of course that's not a phenomenon unique to video games. tv shows make snap decisions when they get canceled before the planned end of the story or a cast member wants to leave. movies' plots can change when a new director comes on board, or they bring in a script doctor, or an actor's problems interfere with the shoot. even louisa may alcott changed little women's ending over concerns that if jo remained unmarried, the book wouldn't sell. i'm not sure whether it was her publisher or she worried about it herself, but the point is, something got altered, and it can happen anywhere.

as a fan, i found these developers' stories both comforting and vindicating. for a long time, i've felt like someone riding two horses at once: the fanfic-and-OC girl playing on other writers' playgrounds, and now also the staff writer who sees how the sausage gets made. i've been affected - probably overmuch - by a character's sad end, only to learn that some third party or outside motive influenced it. i've met writers who also didn't like where a plot was going, but didn't have enough seniority on the team to protest it. i've heard stories along the lines of, "we were trying to make lemonade, man," and what shocked me more than the revelation is the peace i gained from it. it's a miracle the games shipped at all. the things that got made, got made. between professionals, it's neither heretical nor some wild flight of irrationality to ask, "what if things had gone a different way?"

and, i mean, it would be both cynical and incorrect to wave it all off and say that no storytelling motives are ever wholesome. some characters die because it's the logical conclusion to their arc. some universes with complicated worldbuilding benefit from narrowing their focus and shaving off a few subplots. i'm just saying many things are possible. when you only sit on the fan side, it's easy to feel like Canon™ looms above you, inviolable, when you're really in conversation with it. there's a lot of power in saying "i respect the team's accomplishments, but i would've made different choices." you'd be surprised how often the team agrees with you.