#she read the entire school handbook

[kethabali]

was reading some bits from can you get an f in lunch by nancy krulik bc i loved that series as a kid and wow the main character is autistic as fuck no wonder i liked those books so much

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Some long, big thoughts on Kazuki, Rei, and being “Fathers.” - SPOILERS!

I really think this episode is when Kazuki and Rei really face the reality that they are Miri’s FATHERS. Like, it finally sunk in.

The lady here uses otou-sama, which is a very formal way to address the two of them, very stuffy. But also very...Japanese. In Japan, it is very commonplace nowadays for little kids to use papa and mama when addressing their parents, but those are still seen as loanwords. They don’t carry the same weight as being referred to, and seen as, FATHERS.

That question and how they would be perceived by others really hit them here. They aren’t just playing house at home anymore, they are out in society and are going to be perceived as this Miri’s fathers. That may also come with the assumption that they are a couple or in a relationship with each other. 

They both look uncomfortable here at that realization, but neither one really denies it either. Of course, this daycare is very unwelcoming and the lady far more judgmental than Anna. So that also likely plays a part in how they feel and react here too. The first daycare they go to  focused more on the business side of things. 

The room is huge, but empty, the walls are colorful, but not bright. Miri is sent off to play with blocks and the lady never directly addresses her or asks for her thoughts on things. Everything about this daycare is unwelcoming and uninviting and unaccepting, so Rei and Kazuki act coldly to this initial realization and the usage of the word FATHER here, seems very fitting.

It’s not a happy, bubbly, childlike, and even fantastical like the word “Papa” is. And the lady interviewing them, was definitely judging them, even before Miri started mentioning some more...suspicious stuff, lol.

Now, when they go to Aozora Daycare, Anna also addresses them using the word father in Japanese, but she goes with otou-san, still formal, but not stuffy and far more common and approachable. It’s still not “Papa” though. She only uses “Papa” when she talks to Miri about Rei and Kazuki. 

(In the Japanese she directly addresses Kazuki first by calling him otou-san and then stating that she was asking Miri, not him, haha). 

We are met with understanding here, though. Not judgement. The walls of Aozora are filled with children’s art projects, a piano that indicates singing and dancing time as a group, and warm smiles and comfy clothes. Everything that indicates a child-first daycare center. 

The whole interview process ends successfully. The daycare views them as suitable parents and Miri got accepted into the school. 

And while Rei looks disinterested during this entire interview. He was paying just as close attention to everything as Kazuki was, and if watch the high-five scene with a good eye, you can see that Rei actually has his hand up and waiting for Miri’s high-five before Kazuki.He understands her and her flow so well.

The rest is going under a Read More due to length.

Next we see them navigating all the prep work. And even though Rei did fall asleep at one point, we see that they both put in as much effort and energy as they can to get everything right for Miri and her first day of daycare. They both read through the handbook, write her names on things, even Rei did some sewing too. They exhaust themselves out. 

They think they make a great first impression on that first day:

But they make a lot of faux pas in the world of Japanese parenthood (specifically in a space that tends to be dominated by motherhood).

Arriving by car = ✘

Wearing suits that aren’t black = ✘

Having Miri wearing clothes that look expensive = ✘

Arriving by car is equated to wealth and money, and even to showing off, as opposed to riding a bike.

Wearing suits that aren’t black is associated with the underbelly side of Japan, men that work in the red light district or with the yakuza. An exception to this would be like, in many places, the entertainment business.

Dressing Miri up in clothes that look expensive plays into the whole “yakuza daughter” vibes, but also makes it so that she stands apart from the other children. It can also make it so that Miri has a difficult time putting the clothes on and off herself, which could take up class time when coming in from play time, getting ready to go home, and etc.

I worked at a juku (cram school) with a daycare. Most of the students I cared for there were native Japanese kids between 2 - 4 years old whose parents were working in America. My boss would often get annoyed when parents would bring their (usually daughters) in wearing fancy shoes that looked pretty, but hurt the child’s feet and were hard for the child to take on and off themself. 

Kids around Miri’s age are also shown to be aware of economic and social class on some level as well. 

LOS ANGELES, Calif. (Ivanhoe Newswire) -- Rich, poor, middle class. Parents often believe it’s their responsibility to shield their children from economic differences and social class.

But new research shows children as young as five years old are not economically blind. In fact, by the time they reach prekindergarten, kids know the difference.

This group of primary school kids already knows what money can buy.

Combine that with the (thirsty though they were) mothers who probably advised their children to not get on Miri’s bad side because of her dad’s, and her outfits that set her apart, and scenes like this one:

Don’t seem so out-of-place.

When Kazuki and Rei pick Miri up at school, her answer to “How was your first day? Have fun?” being “I dunno yet.’ Set’s off alarm bells - even with Rei.

His brows are furrowed. He knows that something is off and wrong with that statement. They don’t know what they did wrong, and they don’t know how to fix it. Miri gets quieter and sadder and this is the first time they’ve had to actually deal with Miri on a deeper, emotional level. 

That feeling like you are failing a child (whether your own, one of your students, or just a child in your care) is such a devasting feeling. This episode expresses it well by having these scenes all take place on the way home from the daycare, when the sun is setting. 

Thankfully, Kazuki is open to listening to what Miss Anna has to tell him, and she is so supportive. She doesn’t judge them or treat them like they are incompetent or incapable. She just gives them the push in the right direction, with “insider info” in a way, to get them and Miri acclimated correctly. And Rei and Kazuki jump on it. They love that they’ve found this place with a bunch of good quality cheap shit that can help them and make their lives easier.

And after this, Miri goes to school in regular clothes. Kazuki goes to the play area in the regular clothes, and he is just genuine and authentic with the kids. He doesn’t dress Miri up in a way that sets her apart anymore (on a class level, in a way that makes the other kids think she is “saying” “don’t play with me.”). 

Kazuki, especially, isn’t trying to “fake it until he makes it anymore.” He isn’t trying to give the impression that they are rich. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he also felt a bit more pressure to get everything right because he and Rei are two guys raising a kid together - two FATHERS. 

But then he realizes letting Miri and him and Rei just be themselves is enough.

This was very much so a Kazuki issue that ended up negatively impacting Miri. A situation I’m sure every parent (or even teacher, like I’ve been before) has experienced on some level. It’s one of the harsher parts of being a parent and trying to help your child and do what’s right.

And now, he and Rei have one foot further into parenthood, since they know about this new shop and:

Gave Miri her own room.

That is such a big deal. Similar in a way to how people say not to name an animal unless you plan on keeping it as a pet. Not because Miri can be compared to a pet or an animal in any way like that, but because of what it implies on both an emotional attachment level and a “she is now a permanent part of our household” level. 

That's a fully decorated room, filled with toys and plush dolls and games, a bed, books, a rug, even a desk. A desk filled with stationary supplies for her to learn and something which is viewed as a necessity for children to have at home when they are in elementary and junior high school (especially). 

Rei and Kazuki have gone from being Miri’s “Papas” on a sort of imaginary, “playing house” level, with very limited outside and real-world/societal interactions to being her fathers. They have integrated her and themselves as her parents and fathers into society on a large level now. 

By investing in that room, they are investing in Miri, and are openly choosing to be viewed as her fathers - as partners. Even if they don’t necessarily view each other in that way, it doesn’t matter to them in the end, because Miri is what’s most important. 

(Note: I will link to the news article and report that stated that information about children and economic class recognition in the comments).

[qqueenofhades]

May I ask about prompts 14 and 38 for Dreamling, perhaps?

Dr. Robert Gadling presently has ninety-nine problems, and students who cannot read the module handbook are, at a minimum, ninety-eight of them. (How did they finish school? Take their GCSEs or A-Levels, any of it, while being functionally illiterate? Etc. etc. dismal condition of British state education and indeed the entire British state under the Tories, but still.) He has just fired off a hopefully polite-sounding group email advising everyone to please have a proper look at the posted content before sending him individual queries, when there's a knock on his door and he glances up, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah?"

"Rob?" It's Philippa, again, which makes his heart sink on reflex. They've already had several serious conversations intended to make him consider the possibility of becoming Head of School when her term's up next May, and -- frankly, over his dead body, which in his case is not at all a metaphor. It turns out, however, that she's not here to harass him to take on more professional responsibility, but rather to attend to his personal life. "Your boyfriend's skulking in the foyer and frightening the freshers again. Make him knock it off."

"My boyfr -- ?" Yeah, yeah, all right, the gentleman doth protest too much. Hob hasn't felt up to taking Dream to any faculty functions just yet, but he did tell Amira the other evening at the welcome-back mixer that he was seeing someone, and the news must have spread as fast as any other juicy department gossip. Hob sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Right. Thanks, Philippa. I'll tell him off."

With that, not sad to get away from the horror of his inbox, Hob pushes back his chair and gets to his feet, trotting out his office door and down the stairs. Even before he descends into sight of the foyer, he can tell where the problem is located. Dream is standing spookily just inside the door, in full goth-black, long-coat, pale-faced, looming-in-your-nightmares splendor, and students are indeed outright sprinting to get past him. Others seem to think he's some weird piece of performance art from the theatre department and are asking for selfies, which makes him stare at them even more. Hob swallows a groan, speeds up, and reaches the ground floor. "Oy," he hisses at the unrepentant King of Dreams. "What are you doing here?"

As per fucking usual, Morpheus haughtily disdains to provide a sensible answer (or indeed, any answer). Hob adores the skinny eldritch weirdo, he really does, but one problem he did not foresee now that they're officially an item is that Dream has gotten downright clingy. After going a hundred years between seeing each other, with each of those meetings usually ending in disaster, Hob's still getting used to the idea of seeing him regularly -- weekly, even. It's not like he minds. Variety is the spice of immortal life, and all that. But it does mean that they need to have a few conversations about boundaries, and this is definitely one of them.

"I'm busy," Hob says, doing his best to sound stern. "I've got work to do, love. Like we do in the human world, eh? Can't all sit around in magical throne rooms, brood, and spin magical stories."

Dream looks miffed at this lightweight estimation of his professional duties. He opens his mouth for some sort of pompous reprimand, but Hob holds up a hand. "Be back at five PM and save me from the emails, and we can jog off together somewhere, all right? But not until then. And stop scaring the students, or Philippa will have my head. Or make me be the Head, and I'm not sure which one's worse."

Dream once more appears about to object -- he still hasn't gotten in a word edgewise, which is probably for the best. But Hob looks furtively in either direction, then kisses Dream on the cheek, spins him around, and propels him out the exit, whereupon he looks very much like an extremely ruffled bird -- raven, probably, which Matthew is bound to find amusing. Mother of God, Hob's life is strange.

Biting a smile despite himself, he trudges back upstairs and dutifully applies himself to the remainder of the paperwork and otherwise makes sure that everything is in order. Then at 5:04pm, he gets up, grabs his things, and heads back downstairs, where Morpheus is waiting for him. "You are," he announces stiffly, "late."

"Only by four minutes. Pretty sure the world won't end." Hob grins crookedly. "Eager to see me, then?"

Morpheus, of course, cannot countenance actually saying this aloud, but it doesn't matter. He holds out his hand, Hob decides he doesn't care who sees him take it, and does so. Then all at once, the familiar surroundings of the Department of History stretch and ripple and fade away, and the next instant, they're not there at all, or London, or Earth. They're here, in Morpheus's home. The Dreaming.

As usual, the place looks eerie, magical, mystical, and lovely, and Hob is getting somewhat more used to the abrupt transition between worlds, so he only swallows hard a few times and then is good to go. They ascend to the castle, he and Lucienne greet each other warmly, and then Morpheus jealously squires him up to his rooms at the top of the tower, beneath the vast dome. The great bed is a temptation, and doubtless they will end up there before too long, but a supper is already laid, glimmering in the fey candles, and Hob blows out a relieved breath. "Could eat an ox. You're a lifesaver, darling."

Morpheus looks the usual blend of awkward and pleased he always does when Hob casually uses endearments or expresses affection. "Does this make up for me alarming your pupils, then?"

"More 'n." Hob sinks into the chair and tries not to wolf down everything in sight. "But still. Don't do it again."

They eat (here in his own realm, in his own stuff, Morpheus eats too). They drink, they talk. It's like old times, and more. Afterward, they go outside to gaze at the stars, a thousand times brighter and more brilliant than anything on Earth, and Morpheus's tousled dark head sinks slowly onto Hob's shoulder, like a feral cat finally becoming close enough with one trusted person to let itself be petted, let itself be loved. Hob bites another smile, this one unspeakably tender, and leans in to kiss Dream's hair. Aye, his life is bloody strange, and it always has been. But he would not trade it for the world.

[jaemified]

through the window (21 days) - lee chan

“waiting 21 days isnt so bad if itll always end like this.”

pairing ; lee chan x fem!reader

genre ; fluff but pretty cheesy fluff, strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, not a smau but twt profiles are showed

warnings ; swearing, floods, isolation, separation, chans flirty (thats a warning in itself), reader has zero relationship experience

wordcount ; 2.7k

synopsis ; after a long series of floods, youre finally able to meet the boy across the street who had caught your eye throughout the long few weeks.

note - chan isnt an idol but minnie/soyeon are

note 2 - idk what chan is looking at in that pic

read below the cut !

DECEMBER 8, 2023

winter, also known as flood season.

the town where you lived in was already at a low altitude, so the bridge built to cross over the river to the other side of the street always had submerged during this time of year.

the thing that sucked the most about all this, was you were pretty much rained in for however long it takes for the water to drain with absolutely no way out.

so naturally, you all had came prepared.

your roommates minnie and soyeon never minded all the rain as they hated going in to work at the crack of dawn, yet you however, loved what you did. tutoring a kids after school program wasnt half as bad as the average person might think.

but, of course seeing as they were all a bunch of middle school kids, they could be a handful. you decided to listen to your friends and use these next few weeks to relax.

or, what you thought relaxing was.

“come on y/n! dont you wanna make strawberry shortcake with us?” minnie yelled at you over soyeons loud music while you studied over the next lesson plan for your kids.

“maybe later- i really wanna get a head start on these lessons.”

“seriously y/n?” soyeon murmured in slight disgust, “i seriously doubt the first thing those kids want to be thinking about is what they’re gonna do with their math tutor after a free half month.”

you shrugged and took a sip of your coffee before typing in the highlighted notes from the handbook into your computer.

“come on. youre not spending our one free break of the year like this again!” soyeon exclaimed as she snatched the book out of your hands, then closing your laptop before putting them both away in the cabinet under the tv.

“you know i can just get that myself right?”

“no, because i won’t let you.” she replied, locking the door and putting the key in her pocket.

“come on! im passionate about what i do, i dont mind it at all!”

“me and minnie are passionate about writing songs too, but even we know when its good enough to take a break.”

“okay i know i don’t work half as hard as idols do but i still have bills to come by! besides, corporate management demands i have the next lesson plan finalized before the end of the week!”

“corporates a bitch, they gotta be more mindful of how they treat their employees. like how do you be top tutoring company in the country and you still cant manage your employees the way they deserve?” minnie shouted in frustration.

“and dont worry about bills for now, we got it.” soyeon whispered to you.

“minnie- you realize cube is the same way to you guys right? and you work way harder then i do despite not getting the income you deserve.”

“yeah but we manage. we have a contract anyway. i know we’re passionate about what we do but we most certainly are not passionate about who we work for.” soyeon replied for minnie as she couldn’t hear over the sound of the blender (why was she using a blender again?)

you sigh soaking in how much pressure your friends are under at work, realizing you don’t even have it half as bad despite having a pretty shitty boss.

“how bout you find someone worth crossing an ocean for? itll be half as fun for us as itd be for you, since it’s in our contract we aren’t allowed to date.” minnie spoke after the whirring of the kitchen appliances died down.

“how.. we are entirely stranded until however long it takes for this stupid flood to drain.”

“do some stalking on insta. let’s find you like uh.. celebrity crush or ulzzang you can fan girl over or something.”

you scoffed in annoyance and slight disgust with your friends knowing you never really cared for any of that.

you decided to sit down at the bay window by the front door, scrolling through your phone before something outside caught your eye.

there you saw a guy across the way, sitting in his bay window just like you, he who seemingly just finished receiving a lecture from his friends.

you watched as he ran a hand through his fluffy dark brown hair, before he turned your way, your eyes locking.

immediately, it was part of your instinct to nervously turn away.

before slowly looking back, that is.

there you found the beautiful brown haired boy, still looking at you, with a golden smile.

your heart melted (but you thought you were having palpitations) when you saw him look at you so fondly.

what is this feeling?

you slowly raise a hand, and wave to him shyly.

he waved back, before forming a heart with his arms he held over his head.

you laughed quiet enough so your friends couldn’t hear you, but your facial expressions were bright enough so he could be aware he was able to make you laugh.

the boy laughed in response before he seemed to mouth something, but you weren’t the best at reading lips.

you tilted your head in confusion before he jokingly rolled his eyes, and saying it again, but slower.

“cu-tie.” you realized he said, or attempted to say.

“cu-tie?” you sounded out, making sure you understood right.

he nodded before pointing at you, his finger tapping against the glass, “cutie.”

he absolutely reveled in the way you smiled so brightly, the way your cheeks flushed pink and your eyes sparkled with excitement.

you didnt even realize how you were falling for his charms.

before you were even able to say anything back, his friend came up from behind him, attempting to drag him away, yet the guy was still persistent.

you watched how his friend started to get angry, so the guy rolled his eyes and stood up, walking away with his friend down the hall.

but not before waving back at you, blowing a kiss.

you got up from your seat before wrapping your arms around minnie, resting your head on her shoulder while you spared a small glance at whatever soyeon was watching in the living room.

“hmm? what do you need now my child?” she dramatically questioned, as she knew you only got clingy when you needed something.

“whos that guy that lives across the.. on the other side of the bridge? in that dark brown house with the black roof?”

“oh? house 133 right? thats seokmin, minghao, and.. what’s the other ones name? I always forget.. chan! yeah, chan.”

soyeon jumped up in surprise, pausing her show after hearing you pique your interest at a guy for the first time.

“why? you like one of them? which one? minghao? he was pretty well liked for a foreigner. he was in the same exchange program as minnie. ” she excitedly asked.

“w-what? no! i was just asking cause i saw one of them out there earlier.” you unconvincingly lied.

“oh she totally likes minghao.” “not even!”

“sweetheart, we aren’t as dumb as you think we are.” minnie pouted at you while she pulled away to put the cake in the oven.

you huffed in disbelief before going to take a bag of chips from the pantry, walking down to your room to finish the lesson plan. (on the laptop your boss lent you since soyeon took your personal one).

meanwhile, there you left chan, day dreaming about you all day long. he was so curious about you, yet he felt so stupid for crushing on some girl he’d never spoken to before.

not like he even could at this point, you were stuck in the middle of a flood, anyway.

“whats on your mind channie? you seem out of it.” seokmin asked while he blindly stirred the tteokbokki, turning to face the younger boy behind him, sitting at the kitchen island.

“its chan. whens he not out of it?” minghao chuckled, throwing a chip at his cheek, sliding to sit over at the stool next to him as he emerged from his bedroom.

“who lives in that white house on the other side of the bridge? isnt that where soyeon lives? we went to high school together.” chan half-mindedly queried, zoning out as he stared into the marble counters.

“yeah, why?” minghao responded.

“did she move out or something? there was another girl there and it wasnt soyeon or minnie.”

“oh, you mean y/n? she graduated a year before you or something, but at another school. we used to work at the same tea house before she left for that tutoring agency.”

“y/n? sounds vaguely familiar. i think i remember seungkwan mention her being in his class.”

“why are you mentioning her all of a sudden? you never cared for girls.” seokmin teased with a wide smile.

“oh come on. you know he’s quite the flirt.” minghao playfully cooed at chan, dramatically waving his hand back at seokmin.

“you two are insufferable.” he groaned, banging his head against the counter.

you found yourself up at night, scrolling through twitter before you decided to search for the guy you ‘met’ today. minghao, was it?

‘xu minghao’ was what you had entered into the search bar, clicking on the top result.

‘myunghoez’

‘huh.’ you thought to yourself. so it couldnt be him, but seokmin didnt seem to have an account as you searched for his name.

you looked up chans name next, thinking maybe,, that there could be a chance it’s him. his profile picture was technically him, but not, him. but in your defense, how could you tell who was who if chans profile picture was a baby picture?

though you knew youd never hear the end of it from her, you decided to ask soyeon.

“do you have a picture of chan?”

“yeah hold on. its just an old screenshot from an old tweet though.” she mumbled before pulling up her phone to show you.

‘wow.’ you thought to yourself, ‘so this really was the guy i met today.’

before soyeon could ask any questions, you quickly thanked her and ran back to your room before posting a small something in reference to what minnie had said to you earlier.

days, weeks, went by of you and chan interacting through the window despite never seeing each other up close, or ever hearing the others voice.

but despite being isolated from separately, you still had fallen for one another nonetheless.

you loved the way you would feel butterflies in your stomach whenever he made a heart with his hands for you, and he absolutely adored the way you in the end would just make a big sign telling him what you wanted to say when you gave up on trying to get him to read your lips.

of course the flood had its downside, i mean being stuck with the same 2 other people for almost a month definitely takes a toll on you, isolation definitely can get depressing with no way out.

but in the end, it had its upside as well. you were able to meet a great guy despite never technically talking face to face, having only lip reading to communicate (why didn’t you think of social media?). not to mention you were able to put more time into a forgotten passion after all of your energy being used up as a tutor.

marine animals.

you and chan had technically discussed the idea of possibly having a first date when you get out of here, yet you still hadn’t decided where you’d go or what you’d do seeing as you both were pretty passionate about different things.

chan had always loved the stars, you had always loved marine life. but, you decided you would finalize a date night once you both get to meet face to face.

DECEMBER 29

after a long 21 days of disappointment, spending christmas without your family, 3 going on 4 weeks of crazed loneliness, you finally woke up one morning to find the overflowing river, drained, and to its regular level.

you were able to see the bridge once more and though the wood might be rotting, you just couldnt wait to cross it.

you immediately ran down the hall, dressing however best you could, fixing your hair to be as best as it would go, being sure to brush your teeth and pop in a mint before running straight out the door. (and ignoring all of soyeons questions as well as minnies protests)

as you stepped out the front door, you saw chan just leaving his house looking as beautiful as ever.

you ran straight for the bridge, chan catching you before you could slip on a puddle before he picked you up into a big hug.

“you’re just as gorgeous up close as you were through a window.” he whispered as he pulled you close, his hand cradling the back of your head, pulling it to rest against his chest.

“and you’re still just as much of a flirt arent you?” you chuckled before slightly cringing at your attempt to reciprocate the excitement.

you were excited, believe me, just couldn’t express it as well as he could.

“i cant believe it took 21 days to finally be with you.”

“it was worth the wait wasnt it?”

“you’ll always be worth the wait.” chan mumbled against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss into your cheek.

“cant believe you’re real..” you mumbled, leaning further into his touch.

“cant believe i got someone like you to fall for someone like me.”

“chan you’re so cheesy.”

“only for you.” he replied with that stupid grin you grew to love so much.

the two of you later took the time to talk more about life, each other, finally exchange numbers, then eventually decide what you’d do for your first date night.

“see you tomorrow at 12?”

“tomorrow at 12.”

DECEMBER 30

you practically couldn’t sleep as you bubbled in excitement. you picked out a pretty black dress that went nicely with a random pair of white sneakers before heading out on your way while your roommates were out at work.

“lookin as pretty as always.” chan smiled while he opened his car door for you.

“still as handsome as ever arent you?” you jokingly rolled your eyes as he backed out the parking lot.

you two had many common interests, yet what you were most passionate about definitely was pretty parallel to one another.

chan loved the stars, you loved the sea. so, you decided to go to an aquarium (that also included solar system exhibits), grab some food from a cafe you found out you both loved, go for a late drive to the beach, watch the sunset, then stargaze.

call it cliche but it was perfect for you both.

chan wrapped an arm around you as you both stared into the night sky, all the stars displayed beautifully.

he would point at a random star and say it reminded him of you, because it stood out from the rest, distinct, but perfect in his eyes.

he was the sweetest guy ever, perfectly fitting the standard for what’s considered boyfriend material, almost unrealistic, even.

“youre a person worth crossing an ocean for.” you told him more then truthfully, bringing a hand up to softly stroke his cheek.

“out of all the stars in the sky, youre the only one id pick.” he cringed realizing how corny it was. “too cheesy?”

“just enough.” you reassured, before sealing both yours and his lips into a warm and comforting kiss. chan had never felt safer in another’s embrace.

“waiting 21 days isnt so bad if itll always end like this.”

[vanillafalvoredcoffee]

A girl in an expensive looking School outfit similar to any other student in her is silently writing on an old looking handbook, the book case is made entirely of leather and the pages inside it are carefully written with her most favorite fountain pen, containing the story of that girl's life.

It is her Diary, she always keeps it around even when she's at School...she seems to be attracted to it, Suddenly the bell goes off and Most of the students in her class pack their bags and rushes outside of the now empty classroom...right this is end of class now isn't it?

,The girl thought as she closed her beloved Diary and holds it to her chest securely, then she picks up her bag and walks out of the classroom with them

"Hey! Are you going to go the park with me tomorrow?"

"Oh shit- I think I forgot my assignment tomorrow-"

"Dude...again?"

"Nah...I have extra classes remember?"

...Ah...why did they have to talk so loudly? She looked at the students who was talking with a little sulk before she walked pass them and try to ignore them, Eventually she walk down a flight of stairs and kept walking until she gets to the entrance of the Academy she's in

A lot of students are rushing to get out of school as the sky is getting darker and darker, She looked at the sky for a while before fastening her pace.

[Time skip]

She founds herself in her favorite tea drinking spot in the park near the Academy and her home....she finds this place really calming, especially when it's at night.

She doesn't bring tea to drink this time though, she's just brought a book from a local to read to pass the time

The girl then spots something in the distance...a ...person In an armor? She rubbed her eyes for a moment before looking at the person in the distance yet again but...the person is still there

The girl got a little curious about the mysterious person and she walks behind them and touches their shoulder

"E-excuse me, who are you?"

@floofgryph

[thebluestbluewords]

*Insert Pingu card meme here*

Not quite a Valentine's day fic, but something like one, maybe. Mal & Carlos, shippy if you squint. ~1600 words.

<3

“Valentine’s is…fun.” Carlos says doubtfully. 

“That’s what literally everyone says, yeah.” Mal repeats. “Fun. Because it’s a day about feelings.  And people here like to talk about their feelings.” 

“And it’s fun.” Carlos echoes back, sounding even more mystified about the whole concept. “Having feelings.” 

Mal has lots of fun feelings. She has rage, and anger, and sometimes a terrible hot feeling that bubbles up in her chest and makes her want to scream until everyone around her runs away forever and leaves her alone to die. “Look, I don’t know. Evie told me today that everyone here says it’s fun, and we need to make sure we’re not sticking out. And all the girls in third period were talking about how they’re so excited to tell everyone how much they love them, and Audrey was all, like, ‘buy your Valentine’s chocolate from the SGA table to support my school wide empire on fun’ and honestly I sort of tuned out after she started talking so I don’t actually know if there’s anything else to this stupid holiday.” 

Carlos makes a face that might be trying not to laugh. Or possibly trying not to sneeze. It’s hard to tell. “You heard that there’s feelings, and chocolate, and a chance to humiliate Audrey, and decided that obviously we have to make it a magical day for everyone?” 

Mal also heard that there’s going to be a chocolate fountain at lunch in honor of the holiday, but she’s keeping that part to herself for now. “Pretty much,” she agrees. “Throw me the glue.” 

“Do we get chocolate?” Carlos asks as he stretches up to pass Mal the glue. It means that he has to let go of one side of the ladder, which doesn’t feel entirely great from Mal’s vantage point standing on the tips of her toes on the very top step, but it’s fine. If she falls off at least she won’t have to go to class tomorrow. 

“Of course that’s the part you focus on,” Mal huffs, stretching down to snag the bottle of glue from his fingertips. “And yes, if you’re a very good little boy, we can steal Audrey’s student government chocolate as soon as her back is turned.” 

“I could take offense at that,” Carlos says slowly, returning to his place at the base of the ladder. “I could take it by myself and not share any with you.” 

“But you won’t,” Mal sing-songs, spreading a thin layer of glue over the blades of the classroom fan. Details are essential in wicked schemes, and she didn’t earn an A- in Scheming and Wickedness because she forgot the details, like making sure her magical mess is going to be a maximum pain in the royal behind to clean up. “Because you—Hey!” 

The base of the ladder wobbles again, just for an instant. 

Carlos looks up at her, face blank and innocent. “Did you need something?” 

Ugh, boys. 

“You undying devotion to the cause,” Mal snaps, shaking the bottle of glue in a vaguely threatening manner. “And your support on the base of this death trap, come on. If I fall off this ladder and break my neck I’m going to tell everyone you’re the one responsible for this.” 

“I’m already an accessory to your crime,” Carlos says placidly, but he’s holding on to the ladder again, so it really doesn’t matter what he thinks about the supposed legal system of Auradon Prep. Accessories to crime aren’t real when you’re a student, which Mal knows, because she’s read the student handbook. All students involved in mischief share punishment equally, in some sort of attempt at teaching them fairness that’s more misguided than the maps in wonderland.  “I don’t think a broken neck is really a likely outcome at this point anyway. And if you do break your neck from falling six feet down, I’ll just get all of the chocolate that would have been yours anyway. Really a win for me either way.” 

Mal will not laugh at her brilliant, wicked boy. Laughing will only encourage this sort of smart-ass behavior in the future, and as a leader in her school community, she is a pillar for goodness and upright moral behavior. 

Also, she’s afraid that if she laughs the ladder is going to break.  “Shut up and hold my ladder. If we make it through this alive I’ll get you your very own chocolate later. Legally gained.” 

Carlos, safe on the ground, does laugh. “Ugh, why?” he asks seriously. “Stolen food tastes better.” 

“Obviously,” Mal agrees. She’s actually going to murder someone over the stupid glue bottle designs. Stupid middle schoolers. If they hadn’t been caught doing glue shots at the back of the art classroom, Fairy Godmother wouldn’t have banned full size bottles from campus, and she wouldn’t be in this situation at all right now.  “But it’s not a very good gift if it’s stolen. I’m a good and moral citizen now, haven’t you heard?” 

“What if I’m evil and only take bribes in the form of stolen goods?” 

Mal throws up her hands, and the glue bottle with them. The thing stays firmly attached to her fingers. At least the glue inside it works, even if the bottle is a useless tiny piece of junk. “Fine then! But I’m taking it from Audrey, and you’re not getting it because of the holiday. I’m getting you chocolate because you’re a manipulative little rat bastard who is coercing me into acting as an accessory to your crimes.” 

Carlos grins. “Sure, keep telling yourself that, Malfeasance. Are you ready for the next bottle yet?” 

Mal plucks the glue bottle off her left hand and beans it down at his stupidly cute little curly head. “Yes. Step two, engage.” 

The industrial sized bottle of glitter was worryingly easy to procure. One little call to the craft supply warehouse, one school identification number from the back of their art textbooks, and a few little white lies later, five bottles of pastel pink glitter arrived in an unmarked package to Mal’s student locker. It’s really a security risk, how trusting the mailroom staff can be. She’s practically doing the school a favor. After this they’ll have to assess the contents of each and every package that all the students receive, and the mailroom staff will have more work to do. She’s creating jobs tonight, which is a good thing for the economy. Or something. Maybe if Economics wasn’t her final class of the day, and the classroom wasn’t so warm and comfortable for napping in, she would actually care. 

Whatever. Mal’s actions here tonight are an overall act of goodness that will increase the safety of the student population and therefore what she’s doing is a correct and proper thing and Fairy Godmother won’t be able to give her any crap about it later. 

Also, it’s going to be funny as hell to watch the glitter rain down the moment the fans turn on. 

“I think this one might be done!” Carlos calls up, coughing glitter out of his mouth. It’s possible that Mal could have been a little bit more careful with her placement. “If you wanna get down so I can move the ladder, I can take the bottle. Y’know, before you cover the floor too.” 

Mal flicks her final handful down over him, just for evil measure. 

“I think you’re done,” she calls back, shoving the cap back on the glitter bottle and dropping it down in the general direction of the floor. “With. Life.” 

“Ow,” Carlos calls back, voice completely flat. He catches the bottle that she’s dropped down to him though, which counts for a lot. “You’re not as cool as you think you are, dragon breath.” 

“I’m going to dump the leftovers of this in your shoes,” Mal says cheerfully, hopping down from the ladder now that the fan is fully coated, and there’s no longer glitter resting precariously below her feet. “You’re going to track it everywhere you go for months on end. The teachers are all going to know exactly where you’ve been each day and you’ll never be able to get it out of the treads.” 

“You would not.” 

“Would so!” Mal says brightly. “You’ve been getting too soft if you think I won’t.” 

Carlos rolls his eyes, but he’s already hefting the ladder up to move it to the next ceiling fan, so he can’t be too bothered.  “You won’t,” he says confidently. “Because we’re going to dump the leftovers through the slots on those lockers right by the second floor bathrooms.” 

Ooh, now there’s a thought Mal can get behind.

Next fan. Ladder down. Mal steps up. 

 “You’re thinking of the ones who won’t move their shit out of the hallway to let people by, right,” she asks, just to be sure. Details are essential, after all. “The same ones who clutch their little pink purses when we walk by? Not the ones by the stairs who won’t shut up about how we’re the downfall of proper society?” 

“Those’re the ones.” Carlos agrees. “The purse clutching feels worse somehow. Like, we’re not going to grab it out of their hands.” 

“Right.” 

“We’d totally steal their locker codes instead. Can’t fit a laptop in a purse, and I could use more scrap parts.” 

That’s it. 

“I’m rationing this so we can hit the ones on the third floor too,” Mal says, shaking the bottle of glitter with what she sincerely hopes is a menacing sort of look. She’s rusty. There’s not nearly enough chances for a proper wicked monologue at Auradon Prep. “You’re spared from the glittering for now, furball, but only because I’ve found a more deserving victim, not because you deserve better.” 

Carlos laughs. There’s glitter all over his face now, raining down from the handful that Mal threw into his hair, and he looks happier than… 

Happier than he’s been in a long time. 

Maybe there’s something to this whole valentine’s thing after all.

[aelinschild]

THREE

Holding Me Like Water In Your Hands

Main Masterlist | HMLWIYH Masterlist

And I'm back with chapter three! Apologies for the long absence, I was away without my computer, and when I got back I got very sick. But I'm pushing through. Any who, enjoy, and please let me know what you think! I really appreciate feedback.

SYNOPSIS:A cross continental move forces Aelin Galathynius to open her eyes wider than before, and at the doors of Terrasen's most exclusive and expensive private high school, she realizes her life is flowing through her. And if she wants to make the most of her life, she needs to grab onto something. Or maybe someone. WORDCOUNT: 1.8K GENERAL WARNINGS: Language, Drug use, Alcohol, Allusion to sex/intimacy, Brief descriptions of sexual assault, Domestic violence, Very severe angst, Messy Divorces (More to be added)

The sun woke me up. Lazily climbing up in the sky, beckoning me to get something done on my last free weekend before high school would begin. 

On the drive up from Rifthold, Mom spent at least twenty minutes going over every detail of my newest ‘adventure’. 

Orynth Rise High School.

An extensive campus harboring some of Orynths brightest, and most wealthy, students. Large enough to be a university campus, with buildings stretching all over the acres of land situated right on the outskirts of the city. Apparently, the school has frequent renovations to update the already luxurious conditions. Spacious classrooms, lounge areas designated for different years, and all the newest tech. 

What really piqued my interest was the Orynth Grand Library, also on campus. 

Shortly after I woke, Mom appeared at my door with a peace offering. Black coffee. The tension between us was palpable, and in true Galathynius fashion, rather than facing that, she presented me with what looked like a body bag and a thick, but sturdy book. She instructed me that I should get started on the book, and familiarize myself with the suspicious body bag, before she walked away, again. 

I've curled myself up in the chair at my antique desk, and I flip through the hundreds of pages of Orynth Rise High School’s Code Of Conduct. I flip back to the uniform section - pages 34 to 57 - and read through the bulleted lists of do’s and don’ts. 

“...under no circumstance should a student ever find themselves in anything but the accepted ORHS uniform… should weather hinder standard protocol… leisure days are prohibited and behaviour that disobeys dress code will be…”

“How fun,” I murmur, still flipping through pages of dress code regulations. There are entire pages dedicated to washing instruction. 

My eyes drift over to where said uniforms are laid out on my bed. I've been provided with two dark green blazers, lined with gold stitching and gold buttons, and emblazoned with a sweeping arc of fire, soaring hawk, and ORHS stitching over the left breast. There are two black skirts, a pair of black pressed trousers, and a black uniform dress. Plus three starched, collared white shirts. And according to the ‘Code Of Conduct’ handbook, I'll need some sort of black-heeled or flat shoe. 

My gaze sweeps over the clothes. It really could be worse. The greens not terrible, and the gold is certainly unique. The hawk is definitely something, but I'm picking different battles. 

Riftholds Private Elementary School had basic uniforms, so this isn't a foreign notion, but younger me thought high school meant more freedom, like the freedom to wear jeans or something along those lines. 

The ticking of my brass clock punctuates the silence of my room, and I can hear the front door of the house open, then close. I shift off the desk chair and move to the bay window, where I have a clear view of Evalin Galathynius speed-walking towards the Audi parked in our driveway to the three-car garage. Her phone is between her shoulder and ear as she gets into the car, then promptly reverses and speeds off. 

And suddenly the day is feeling a lot more optimistic. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see two teenage-looking boys tossing around a basketball. They're out playing on the driveway of the house across the street two doors down. There's a blond and a brunette, with identical deep skin tones. They toss the ball back and forth, run circles around each other, or simply push each other over. I crack a smile when the blond tosses the ball directly at the brunette's head and it bounces off, nearly going into the net. 

Both boys look like they're around my age, and I wonder if they attend ORHS. I continue to watch them until my staring borders on stalking, and I make my move to freshen up before I explore this new house. 

-

I was born in Orynth. My Dad’s family was from here. But Rhoe and Evalin packed up and skipped town when I was three, and so I was whisked away from full evergreen trees and fresh mountain air to compact townhouses and to the heavy heat of a packed city. 

Why we moved away, I never really understood. But I also didn't know that I wasn't Ardalanian until I was nine. So while the wind coming through the window I cracked open in the kitchen smells like home, and settles onto me in a way I've never felt, I can't help but feel anxious with the lack of noise. Rifthold was loud, the city never slept. And living practically in the business center of the city meant that honking taxis and frustrated drivers were the constant background noise. 

Orynth is quiet. The mountains I can see from said kitchen window give me the impression of a sleeping giant. And capped in snow, I feel exceptionally out of my element. 

From scrounging around in the new kitchen, I find crackers and some licorice I bought at the gas station. A truly balanced breakfast. The dry crackers stick to the roof of my mouth, and the licorice tastes like plastic. I couldn't find plates, so my glorious meal is spread out on the butcher block countertop. 

The kitchen is nice, similar to the rest of the house. A navy blue theme carries throughout, decorating the large sectional couch, cabinets, and various pieces of unremarkable art. 

I feel like a weird stain upon this picture-perfect house, and to distract myself from the panic that's slowly creeping in, I pull my fancy phone out. Another Rhoe apology gift, the newest model I believe. 

I have fourteen unread messages from Dorian, some emails about promotional things I will never read, and a missed call from an unknown number. My phone tells me it's spam. 

>For the love of gods, answer your fucking phone

Dorian can be aggressively loving. 

<Yes?

>Finally

> I've been waiting for hours

>You have no idea the torture it has been

<You’re going to have to work on your separation issues riri

The typing bubble appears and disappears three times before I get a response. 

>Why did you leave linny?

I sigh, Isn't that the most popular question. I don't have an answer for my best friend because I don't even have an answer for myself. 

<Mom got a new job, i guess

And with that, I turn my phone off.

Lying to Dorian pains me. And he knows I'm full of shit, he can read me better than the books he practical consumes. But telling him that I have a suspicion that Dad’s cheating and Mom’s losing her mind probably is not the right way to go. 

After I choke down my meal, I rap my knuckles on the counter, bored. I push the barstool out and begin the trek to the front door, where I turn back around and face the house anew. Time for a tour. 

-

My new home is probably the exact same as three other houses on the block, and I take my time observing everything. From the front door, you emerge into the cozy living room. With the aforementioned navy blue sectional facing the limescaled brick fireplace. A powder room is to the right, and down the hall, you make it into the kitchen. The matte black light fixtures fall down from the high ceilings, where the staircase wraps around the opposite end of the room. To the right, is what I assume to be Mom's master bedroom, and to the left is the dining room. Which leads into a full glass wall with a wonderful view of the fences that surround the backyard. 

My hand glides along the staircase railing, and when I reach the landing, rather than going to the right, back towards my bedroom, I turn left. Three rooms line this side of the house, and when I open the first door I’m met with a study. The far wall is windows, and a large desk sits in the middle of the room. I spot some of the boxes from the Audi in the corner of the room. So this will be Mom’s study. The next door is another washroom. Which makes four in this house already, if both my and my mother’s rooms have ensuites. 

When my hand reaches the handle of the final door, it doesn't move. I jiggle it around, maybe it's stuck? The door doesn't budge. 

More secrets. 

Just then I heard the front door open and my mother's heels on the hardwood floors. 

“Aelin! You better be up!” She calls out. 

I mentally groan, there goes my day. 

-

Where Mom disappeared remains a mystery, but she returned with an overflowing need to go grocery shopping. 

Currently I am commandeering the shopping cart while she browses the organic cereals in the aisle. She's been perusing the brightly coloured boxes for a few minutes now, and I'm picking at my nails. I've peeled off a few layers surrounding, and the nail is bitten down. A symptom of my recent anxieties. 

"Aelin, love, do you want the strawberry granola or the blueberry? Both have all the macronutrients you need to be eating…" she trailed off. 

"Strawberry," I answer. 

She nodded and grabbed two boxes, setting them into the cart alongside our multitude of organic produce and lean meats. 

She grabbed the list out of the back pocket of her sleek trousers and scanned the remaining groceries needed. When she trotted off, I follow her. 

I was certainly not a picture of grace in this moment, body slumped over the handle of the cart, practically dragging my feet. And I felt slightly out of place here too. The grocery store we are in was one of the largest in the city, and the primary one as well. The people here looked different from those from rifthold. Hardened. Like the mountain air cooled their urgency, and they were living more for the moment. 

Which was a shocking comparison to the people of Rifthold, whose urgency permeated their very cores, and oozed out over everyone else. You couldn't walk down the streets in Rifthold without careening into someone rushing somewhere else. 

As we made our way over to the nutmilks, I snagged a bag of chocolates off the shelf. 

A teenage boy in red coveralls is browsing the dairy milks beside us. 

He's pretty, with blonde hair so light it looks silver. Tall too, and lanky. I stare at him while mom opens the door to grab vanilla almond milk. She catches my eye when she turns around to place the milk in the cart. Looking in the same direction as me, we both briefly watch as the boy places his carton of milk in a basket and backs away. 

She looks back at me, and I see a smile when she realises I was staring. 

"Don't start," I say, rolling my eyes. 

Her little smile doesn't fall, and when we turn to go, piercing green eyes catch my own, and the boy smiles at me too. 

[fountainpenguin]

New Frayed Knots chapter today!

Chapter 32 - “Forecast”

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

Anti-Cosmo joins Wanda, Blonda, and Juandissimo for an end of semester trip to the lemonade bar. Gossip is had of love and counterparts. Blonda does her utmost to ensure her study buddy has a grand night out.

(First 1300 words under the cut)

The two weeks leading up to migration season were some of the longest in my entire immortal life. And yes, I say that even as a drake who spent 68,000 years of his childhood stuck inside a genie's lamp. Professors are asked not to require heavy exams outside of the Leaves years, so my semester had been burdened with essays, pop quizzes, and research assignments that frankly left me washed up and wilted. And even though I passed most of my classes with flying colours, that single star grade from Dm. Fallenleaf haunted my conscious mind. It didn't matter, somehow, that Blonda had received an equally poor score on her final essay. I tried to tell myself she was a fairy, that I too had misunderstood the assignment and deserved my failing grade, and yet…

I genuinely think my low score was thrust upon me because I'm an Anti-Fairy. Am I allowed to report this? My student handbook doesn't exactly detail step by step instructions for protesting against this sort of thing.

I didn't feel like I could. Every time I considered approaching the school staff, I imagined they'd cite Blonda's low score as evidence that I wasn't being unfairly singled out. I don't know… I don't invest enough time and research in politics that immediately affect me. Somehow, it always seemed easier to campaign for Council Robes than to stand directly in front of someone and explain why I was hurting. I think… For Anti-Fairies, verbalising that distress can be a challenge.

Funny. Everyone in my creche knew exactly how peeved I was by my low score. I didn't do a thing to hide it, and they offered all their comforts until the tears I was wiping off weren't ones of pain anymore. And yet… Blonda herself? The one who ought to have been my "companion in crime?" … I hung out with her (to use the modern term) the following day because we had our potion making class together. But the skim through the hallway, the two hours of preparing our cauldron, the little campus bakery we stopped by afterward… Well, she rambled on and I spoke back as best I could, but I largely didn't know what to say.

See, Blonda had an intense personality at the best of times, though the way she carried it - sort of stifling herself and backing down fast - made it clear she was still recovering from a lifetime of being suppressed by her family and forced to play a softer role. Fairies have never looked fondly on twins, and particularly younger twins… I think lookalikes remind them far too much of their Anti-Fairy counterparts. Blonda fell on the side of those who flap their wings widely when frustrated. As we exited the bakery and stepped out on the sparkly pink walking path, I stayed slightly ahead of her. This gave me the opportunity to busy myself with soft pings of echolocation. So, I simply tried not to say anything that might offend. At least… up until I was nearing the end of my pumpkin bread snack. When Blonda's ramblings drew to a lull, I turned on my heel and began walking backwards instead.

"Blonda, can I offer you some genuine advice?"

She tugged the collar of her pale blue coat, looking faintly rosy as the true extent of her chatter settled in. "I'll always take it from you, Anti-Cosmo."

"Never change."

Evidently, this wasn't the advice she'd been anticipating. She jolted at the shoulders. Her fingers squeezed around the cinnamon roll in her hands (which had already been tossed around quite a bit in all her waving, I might add). "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't cease airing your grievances to trusted friends who support you, even if you don't receive any touches in return. An Anti-Fairy wouldn't normally do this sort of thing with a Fairy- as in, seeking comfort and using only words… And yet, you make speaking to you so easy that I myself have confessed my cultural frustrations to you - touchless - and felt mostly better after it." I smiled at her thinly. Blonda stared back at me with eyes stretched wide. "What I'm saying is, you're allowed to feel disheartened. I applaud you for seeking friends who value your company, strive to lift your spirits, and hurt when you hurt. I promise… Healing will come in time."

Blonda released her cinnamon roll, keeping it airborne with a spark of energy, and gathered her hair in a loose pegasustail. "Oh, you always sound so sure of yourself."

"Believe me, I'm not."

"Well, never change. You sound confident. Though I don't mind saying, as a friend… You might want to consider a wardrobe upgrade. You've been wearing the same signature outfit since lower school."

I looked down at my sleeveless shirt - the black one featuring a simplified version of the Anti-Fairy zodiac - and hummed in thought. As a culture, Fairies oft preferred to nail down a specific "look" for themselves at the start of an Aurora Fairyalis cycle. They'd fill their wardrobes with numerous of the same outfits and stick to them like sprites to fur. The aurora hits every 5,000 years and I'd been wearing identical versions of my favourite sleeveless top for the last three. It hadn't bothered me while I was out of school and travelling regularly, but if I intended to stay in one place much longer, Blonda had a point. "Yes, I suppose I'm not an adolescent anymore… Perhaps I'll look into that next year. After migration season." Migration would be a nice time to catch up on a little reading. I hadn't read a fashion book in 10,000 years or more.

I'd been using this same look since Mickey Peridot was still alive. That thought made my stomach scootch into a little corner. His death felt so recent and yet so far away.

Blonda nodded. "And your shorts are getting short… unless that's intentional. I don't judge."

Hm. Her lighthearted tone made my ears twitch. "How do you mean?"

"Your, ah… slip is showing."

I glanced over myself again, this time more critically, and realised she was right. I really don't know how the Seelie do it, but proper Zodii Anti-Fairies, at least, always wear single-piece undergarments the same colour as our element on the zodiac. If we wore it in separate pieces, it would be far more likely to bunch or flop and become terribly uncomfortable when we hang upside-down. The hem of my water-blue leg sleeve just barely stuck out below the hem of my shorts. I tugged the white fabric down automatically, then shrugged at Blonda. "Yes, I may be outgrowing this look in more ways than one… I've really not made fashion a focus of my life. Any suggestions?"

As I stood admiring myself, Blonda leaned far to one side, apparently sizing me up from this new tilted angle. Then she nodded. "A suit. A black one, I think… unless you find a nice option in navy blue. You've got the monocle to pull off a classy gentledrake's look if you just freshen up your clothes."

I made a face. I wore the monocle because glasses weren't made to sit upon Anti-Fairy ears. Some years ago I did try switching back, but so many of my peers bombarded me, asking why I bothered to wear two lenses when I'm blind in my left eye, so I quickly gave that up. True, my preferred monocle might work as a smashing accent to the right outfit, but did I even want to bother? Was that style for me? "Dressing daily would be a pain, luv… I'll have to think about it."

[toribookworm22]

Find The Word (×2)

Thank you @cljordan-imperium & @j-1173 for the tags!

No pressure tagging: @hghrules @ladywithalamp @moondust-bard @raiphend & my open tag!

Your words are: BAIL, POUR, DUST, & FOLD.

My words were: over, open, blow, silence, and hit & afraid, no, please, can't, cold. Excerpts mostly from the Animatronic Saga universe, but I've specified under each one. Hidden under the cut.

Over

The girl's eyes were wide behind big glasses. She was wearing a bright yellow turtleneck shirt, vibrant against the poof of brown hair down her back. Everything else about her was small. Small and pretty, from where her feet pointed in just a little to the smile tugging at her lips. In each and every freckle that dotted her dark cheeks. Prettier than any sunset over the water, prettier by far than any of the girls at the school or in this town or any girl I'd seen since discovering that I liked girls.

- random aro polyam idea

Open

As we covered the last bit of distance, a large cargo door started to open, rolling back into the building, like an old garage door. Docked inside the building was a tiny aircraft. It was a more modern version of a bush plane, with a dome over the three seats. Beside the aircraft stood three people.

- Animatronic Saga

Blow

Rolling his eyes, he tossed a granola bar at me from the center of the table. “Okay, total low blow there. Isn’t there supposed to be some kind of bro code protecting me from comments like that one?”

“Please never use the words ‘bro code’ again,” I managed amidst laughing.

“Would you prefer buddy rules? Associate handbook?”

“You are such an idiot.”

- Animatronic Saga

Silence

We sat in silence for a while, listening to the soft ripple of the lazy river recycling the lake water far beneath its glassy surface. It reminded me, vaguely, of Skane’s End and of the darkness I’d tried to let swallow me whole. And thoughts of Skane’s End made me think of the Tank. And both of those were merely a cover of the one thought my mind now revolved entirely around.

I pulled my legs from the water.

- Animatronic Saga

Hit

It’s not the same kind of pain that hit that first year on my own, a deep loneliness that burrowed into my bones. Nor is it the anger of the year following, where I broke down my own front door just because I kept waiting for someone else to do the same.

- Secondary Series

Afraid

Standing tall far above the waves, her hair plastered to her face. The girl afraid of elevators and hovers with her fingertips in the clouds. But calm. Ever calm. Ever calm like never before. Waiting. Embracing.

- Animatronic Saga

No

“So no answers, then?”

May whips around to face me, her expression hard but not cold. “Never any answers. Only questions. You know that, Edward.”

I do.

I know it mostly from her.

- Secondary Series

Please

“Get out. Get out, please. I don’t want you here. Please.”

I’m all you have, Maybelle.

“Please… please leave me alone…”

You have no one. You are completely, utterly alone in this world, little Clark. Except for me. Except for me, Maybelle Clark.

- Animatronic Saga

Can't

And, finally, she looks up. “Oh.” I can’t read her expression. Can’t even decide if I really want to. “Did you have fun, at least?”

Though I know she wouldn’t make fun of me if I said, yes and I slept better than I have in months, too, I decide to keep that information to myself. I just shrug. “Yeah.”

- Secondary Series

Cold

Tile was cold-- blissfully cold-- under my burning skin. Cheek pressed to the floor, I imagined what it would be like to just stop. Stop fighting. Stop trying. Stop.

- Animatronic saga

[menalez]

i’ve identified as a bisexual woman for years because i had crushes on boys in high school and i do think some men are really good-looking but i’ve never dated or even held hands with a man and i’ve been in exclusively same-sex relationships my entire adult life. as i approach 30 im realizing that i have no real desire to ever be with a man even if my current gf and i broke up. but i still feel wrong about IDing as lesbian because like i said some men are attractive to me. my gf (lesbian) doesn’t like that i call myself bi when i’ve never “shown” it. what’s the protocol here? is there a lesbian handbook i need to read?

being able to recognise if a guy is attractive is different from personally being attracted to them but if u had crushes on guys and were attracted to them then yeah ofc you’re bi. i guess your gf struggles to understand that since your attraction to them was never acted on it Like That and ig she might also get offended bc she assumes you’ll never act on it due to you being together. but personally i think it’s better to be out as bi if that’s what u are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ & i think she should understand lesbianism isnt just an action or sth 😭 it’s an innate sexuality regardless of behaviour.

[pbandjesse]

Today was a mostly very good day! I slept better last night finally. It wasn't long enough but man was it better.

I woke up and felt better. The temperature was better in here and while my nose hurt I was in a lot better mood.

Me and James headed to work together. And it was a nice morning but man was it cold out. I did not wear a sweater today and that was a mistake. Stanley made sure the building was warm for me. Best guy.

I had a very full day. I was training Meril in the lights on, neighborhood, and city builders programs. So I would wait until she got in before going to set things up.

And it was a nice morning. Meril is fun and her brain moves as fast as mine so our conversations are a mile a minute. We had lights on first. So we went back to restoration to get all the materials. And I knocked over a can and made a huge commotion. But we laughed about it and we went to set up.

I ran through the program with her. And she would go back to the break room to read through the handbook. And I ate my sandwich.

Soon the school came. And they were so cute. Their uniforms were little red sweats and white sweatshirts with a dove. And they were the sweetest sweetest little babies. I would have 12 of them with me all day and honestly the teacher was the main reason it was so excellent. Because she was on it. Absolutely had a handle on them and they were so respectful but also fun and super smart! What an excellent day.

We would march around. Literally marched. Because Rosia was marching with her kids. So mine wanted to March. So we marched. And it was so silly.

Lights on makes me stressed. Because it's so hard to make it the entire hour an a half. That's such a long time. But because they were such an excellent group we actually filled the time.

We started with a circle up and we went through how you communicate and how you use light. And then it was time to make their boxes. And they did a great job. And as they finished their drawings and I attached them to the boxes they would go hang out and look at the gallery while everyone finished up.

And once we were all done we turned the lights off and I had them all chill in the last row of the theater. I was on the stage and would light up each box and have them guess what it is. And it was super silly and lots of laughs. And the boxes would look so good!! Very proud of them.

We had lots of time still so we went through the musuem looking for lights. And ended at the car. To sit and take pictures and play for a bit. And then it was lunchtime.

My slight stress started the. Because I got a weird email with some conflicting information and it just made me stressed. Like it's absolutely inconsequential. It does not matter at all. But man does it make my body think something is horribly wrong and I'm going to be in trouble. I needed to put it out of my head and get back to work.

I had two more programs with these sweet kids. We had a neighborhood tour and it was fun giving them their jobs and they did an excellent job. And then over to the classroom to do our city builders program and they loved it so much they all made a few pieces and our city was so well built! The chaperone and Meril and the teacher helped cut out the pieces and I folded and taped them and the kids were so sweet. Wanting to do a very good job.

I did my big collaborative story telling with them and we finished exactly on time and the teacher was like. Amazing time management!! Which made me feel really good.

I got lots of hugs and lots of this was the best feild trip and I dont want to leave!! And one can you in be my mom? And it was so silly. After I checked in with Jessica about leaving the classroom set up because we are using it again tomorrow, I would go and grab my bag and go to the front to give James a break.

But James did not get a real break. There was to much for them to do still. And then they had to run to a meeting.

They were obviously distressed. And I felt bad about that. I just want them to be happy and when they aren't because of work it upset me.

But things would be okay. James went to their meeting. I had a great conversation with a few guests. One couple had some questions about tariffs and the steel industry so we spent some time googling it and we seemed to figure out an answer that made some sense. And then I had a conversation with a lovely man who used to live at the coast guard cutter Taney and know all about the ships and that was really neat. Honestly everyone I talked to today was so nice.

James came back down at 3. I struggled to get the door locked and right before they came down I had to go find Stanley for help because I couldn't figure it out. But he helped me lock the door and everything was fine.

I got my stuff together and went to sit with James at the front. And once they were all put together we headed out together.

James drove us to target. So we could get a few things. They had the tiny market stalls I wanted for my table this year. And a few other things. Best of all James got me a new peep. In a beautiful aqua color. They are very soft and I love them.

Me and James would drive over to the new shake shack for dinner. I love their mushroom burger but I forgot how weak their fries are. So boring. Me and James agreed that the worst fries are the smiley face shaped ones. But our dinner and shared milkshake was really good and I was just happy to be with my husband.

When we got home I spent a little time putting things away. I got changed. And James was cleaning the bathroom floor. And then I posted up on the couch and worked on my printmaker bear who has lots of details and I love very much. Eventually I would take a bath and try to use a new gel on my hair. And now me and James are in bed. And I am tired but not in the worst way. I think it'll be easier to sleep. And tomorrow is another busy day. All the same programs! But I think it'll be good. Because today was so good.

So wish me luck. Sleep well and take care of yourself! Goodnight!

[joshuahyslop]

BOOKS

The last 10 books I’ve read:

1. Zen in the Art of Writing - Ray Bradbury Before this I’d only ever read Fahrenheit 451 by Bradbury. I’m not really into sci-fi books. But the photo of him on the book jacket was too good to pass up. He’s smiling, wearing impossibly huge glasses and holding his cat. It made me laugh and I recognized the name so I bought it. I was surprised to find a lot of very solid advice on writing and the approach to any creative endeavour. It was actually a very good little book.

2. Acres & Pains - S.J. Perelman This was random. I found this little book in a used bookstore here in Vancouver - one that I don’t often visit, and was happy to grab it for its $5 price tag. S.J. Perelman was a “humorist”, which, as far as I can understand it, basically means a comedian who knows big words. I would be surprised if David Sedaris did not grow up reading Perelman’s work. It’s very self-deprecating and quite droll. 

3. Selected Poems - William Carlos Williams I’ve been diving deeper into poetry. I don’t know if it’s because I’m in my mid-thirties or what, but I’m finding it more and more enjoyable. I’m still mainly reading Bukowski’s poems when I can find them, but in between I’m picking up classics like this and thoroughly enjoying doing so.

4. A Poetry Handbook - Mary Oliver Mary Oliver is one of my favourite poets and this book is her instruction manual on how to read and write poetry. She recommends other poets to check out, she talks about rhyme scheme and free verse and its origins. It’s a highly educational read for someone who writes for a living but it’s also enjoyable if you just like poetry. Worth checking out.

5. Selected Poems - Antonio Machado This was one of the books recommended in “A Poetry Handbook”. Along with Li Po (whose poetry I had an immensely hard time tracking down) and Jack Gilbert. I knew nothing of Machado when I bought this book and now I know a little bit. The introduction to this book of poems was super helpful, but it’s 67 pages with footnotes and takes about as long to read as the rest of the entire book. One neat aspect was that the left side of every page was the original poem in Spanish, the right side was its translation. I don’t speak Spanish but it was cool to be able to see his intended rhythm. 

6. Invisible Boy - Harrison Mooney I grew up in Abbotsford, aka “Canada’s Bible Belt”: an almost exclusively white community with well over 100 churches. Harrison did too. We were somewhere between childhood acquaintances and childhood friends. We knew each other, I’d been to his house a couple times, but he was two years older than me so we were never super close. His book is about his experience as a Black boy being adopted by a white Christian fundamentalist family. Looking back I see so much of the racism that was prevalent in that town, in our school and in those churches that I did not experience because I’m white. It was an enjoyable book because it’s very well written. It’s very funny and very sad. But it was difficult as well because I knew those people, those places, those institutions, first hand but I was so largely ignorant of his, and so many others, experiences. And, though I can’t relate to the racism he experienced, I can relate to the confusion he felt trying his best to embrace a religion he was indoctrinated into. I can relate to the guilt of not fully believing, but not wanting to let anyone down. I can’t imagine the added burden of experiencing racism daily (even in his own home) and the questions that being adopted would constantly bring up. This is a book not meant to be missed. Do yourself a favour and check it out.

7. The Roominghouse Madrigals - Charles Bukowski This is a selection of his early poetry between the years 1946 and 1966. It’s a classic example of his work and reminded me, yet again, of why I love reading his stuff. I don’t know what it is. Not every poem connects with me, but enough of them do that I can sit and read his poetry for hours. I have.

8. The Fire Next Time - James Baldwin This has been in my stack of “books to read” for months but after reading Harrison’s book and his description of his encounter with this book I grabbed it and dove in. It’s quite a short read, but it’s incredibly powerful. I kept thinking, “Why was I not aware of his writing when I was in high school?” The answer is fairly obvious and, to put it mildly, disappointing. Still, if I was ever a teacher (not bloody likely) and I taught any kind of History or English class, this would be required reading for all my students. 

9. The Inconvenient Indian: A Curious Account of Native People in North America - Thomas King Previously I’d only ever read, “The Truth About Stories” by Thomas King. It’s a short book but I loved it. I’ve been wanting to get to this book for a long time. Finally, after moving cities and having a week off in Mexico, I was able to dive in. It’s a great book - particularly as a Canadian who was never taught anything other than Christian propaganda regarding the Indigenous peoples of North America and their relationship with white colonizers. It was very informative, very disappointing to read and very sad. But I was also inspired by the Indigenous people and their resiliency and moved by their thoughtful and wise approach to nature. I also enjoyed how funny King is. It’s a fantastic book.

10. The Road - Cormac McCarthy There’s not much to say here. I love McCarthy’s writing but, not surprising, this was incredibly sad. Good if you like his stuff, but maybe not the place to start if you’ve never read anything by him before. 

more soon, -joshua

[flydotnet]

Crimson Shards

WHUMPTOBER 2023, DAY 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.” Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

You know what they say: never two without three, and this Whumptober has already had two entries that can just be summarized as "Hikaru has a bad time a couple years before the first HSAU story rolled around"; except this time this isn't haha soft sickfic-adjacent stuff about him simping for Yoshiko in 4K 60fps, it's making someone bleed to death on the fucking pavement, and the angstier the better.

HSAU knowers (by that, I mean people who have read "That Wasn't Written in the High School Field Trip Handbook, Though?" will recognize this story as being set at the moment Hikaru tells Ryuji about in chapter 4.

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

Crimson Shards

Summary: One wrong stir of the wheel and so much can change.

Fandom: Captain Tsubasa but make it an oddly specific French high school AU

Word Count: 1K words

AO3 version available here.

Content warning for vehicular casualties, open/ambiguous ending and graphic depictions of blood and injury.

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

Watch out!

Before she can understand what’s going on, Yoshiko finds herself hitting the ground, pain splattering through her whole body. She hits her head in her fall, feels something warm and liquid go down her legs and arms.

The blaring sound of a car alarm deafens her to the point all of her senses are ringing. Once her eyes work once again, she looks up: a car is crashed into a lamppost, the driver knocked unconscious on the steering wheel, the windshield broken beyond recognition.

When she finally thinks she should get up, Yoshiko gets ready to push herself on her arms – only to notice there are thousands of glass shards where she’d have put her hands as well. There actually are some stabbed right into her limbs, and the sting from it is now obvious to her.

This is awful.

Change of gears: she decides to only get up on her feet – but there’s a weight on her entire self. She turns around to see what it is, dread superseded by adrenaline, only to catch the scariest of sights: Hikaru slouched over her, eyes shut close and face twisted in pain. He’s covered in blood and glass shards, and for a moment, she’s terrified the worst has happened; but thank God, he still breathes.

“Hikaru, can you hear me?!” She cries out to him but gets no response.

Gathering all of her strength, she pushes him off her on the side that has the least amounts of glass littering the pavement. Unfortunately, she only remembers afterwards that you’re not supposed to move someone who’s been injured from where they landed, and now, there’s a trail of blood following one of Hikaru’s legs, crimson tainting the pavement and shards alike.

Finally coming to her sense, she feels for her phone in her pocket and fetches it with a trembling arm. Everything hurts, from the shoulder Hikaru must’ve bruised with his hand to the tip of her ring finger in which where a tiny shard has found its way, but she still gets the device out of her jeans’ pocket. Its screen is just like her, fractured in the middle, but it still turns on. Second better news in a situation where nothing feels right.

Her breath shudders as she makes her call to 15. The details are as fuzzy as they come: from what she understands, a car swerved right into a lamppost and both her boyfriend and she were on its way. It’d seem like her boyfriend shielded her in some way, considering the light injuries she suffers compared to him, who’s profusely bleeding from one of his legs.

She isn’t sure of what details to add. Hikaru seems conscious, since he’s gritting his teeth, but can’t speak. The driver, on the other hand, hasn’t stirred at all since earlier, and considering the blood she can see from here, she has no doubt he’s most likely dead by now. She’s asked to keep the call going and to update them if anything changes or she notices more things.

Passers-by have now surrounded the scene. Some of them reach to the driver and quickly confirm what she suspected (deep inside her, she only has contempt for this man and relief it was neither Hikaru nor her, she’ll find her sympathy again later), others come to her and ask her if she’s okay, notice she’s shaken. One very nice woman puts her coat over her shoulders when she notices the tremors that pulse through her whole body.

Her voice breaks and tears flow down her cheeks because she’s cold, hurt and scared, but she wants people to know it’s Hikaru who needs their attention, not her, she’ll be fine. He’s the one who’s bleeding at a rapid pace. It’s him who probably took the impact directly, probably why he bleeds – oh no.

She ducks his way, leading the adults watching over him to give them some space.

“Hikaru, can you move your leg?”

He grunts, but this time, his eyes open. They’re unfocused and she can barely stand the sight of them with a shard right under his left one letting blood flow undisturbed, even if it’s just a slight trickle and a light blemish in the greater order.

“Which one?”

Yoshiko stares intently. His right one has a pool under it and, if she squints, she’s sure she could squint a bone.

“Your right one,” she replies.

He tries doing just that, but all they get is a scream of sheer agony.

“Hurts like a bitch,” he spits out, blood along his saliva.

“I’m so sorry, Hikaru,” sorrow inhabits her every word.

“I-it’s fine.”

It’s, at least, somewhat good news: this means he can still feel his leg. If all goes right, then he’ll be able to walk on it again, and it’s not all doom and gloom… if things go right, because now, she’s stuck in the middle of the cold wind, staring at him losing blood by the second, and other people doing what they can; yet it all feels somewhat in vain, if nobody truly qualified and with the right tools.

Yoshiko tries not to cry again, because she wants to be here for Hikaru like he’s trying to be for her, despite his pain and his numerous, heavy injuries. He almost gave his life for her; how can she now throw it all away? She needs to make sure they’ll both be fine by the end of the day. That’s all that should matter to her.

Powerlessness is a burden not unlike lead.

The wait is inhumane, playing on all of her nerves, making the pungent stench of iron so much stronger to a point of giving her nausea. Her eyelids are heavy with fatigue and her eyes with yet more tears, but she must be strong. It’s not a question of if she can or not, it’s a question of how long she needs to be.

For all of those pretty promises, when she hears the sirens in the distance, a sigh of relief comes in a shudder, and Hikaru is still smiling, even if it looks twisted and so uncomfortable to look at – while her lips are still trembling.

[crybabyjellyfish]

ooo work rants

I'm rewriting the office manual for fun bc Im bored and wasn't taught what I should be doing. (no I don't have permission to re-write it)

Things I hate about the handbook- it's long tho so it goes in text jail.

Listed in the responsibilities section, "Bring a positive attitude to work" shouldn't be the first thing listed. Especially when she ignores all the negative things that happen.

If you're so much as 5 min late you gotta tell EVERYONE you're 5 minutes late, even if you think you're going to be late you have to text the entire group chat you're going to be 5+ minutes late.

"Growth Mindset" and "Stereotype Threat" are both before actual procedures and take up more pages than the procedures. Instead of- idk- telling me what I should be doing and how. If someone rings the office phone I have 0 clue how to answer and how to transfer calls

the way the stereotype threat section is set up basically says to ignore aspects of yourself and others that're apart of minority groups to avoid stereotyping yourself.

Stressing out? Just think about Obama! If he became president, anyone can do anything. Thanks Obama :)

Oh- still stressing? Change your mindset! You're just thinking wrong.

you're STILL stressing? Push it off for another time and get what you need to get done right now. Then you won't choke under pressure.

Our commitment to a positive workplace climate: We will "demonstrate a commitment to diversity and multiculturalism" and to "take care of our well-being and exhibit team wellness" ah yes, I will demonstrate multiculturalism. Also- I told this person about sexual harrassment i'm facing outside of work and that i am struggling and the response was, "hmm thanks for sharing... anyways."

This is a quote: "If you work with more than one student, encourage your students to study together outside of your mentoring sessions.... Asian students, who studied in groups, formal and informal, and made little distinction between their academic and social lives, did better than White and African-American students." First and foremost- UNHEALTHY. I am Asian. I don't have distinctions. It's very very unhealthy t b h. Study groups and social times are both important but jfc. ALSO MODEL MINORITY MYTH WHO?! JFC

^^^^^^^^ This is the person that told me that I would be the first guy that they have hired because they have, "People of all different backgrounds." (I'm trans. HUH. Actually I wonder why the only man they have in the office is me- who ngl is v v feminine.) Then tells me after our first team-building day that they "Just so happen" to have only really hired Asians for their interns(the others don't work directly under this person or are in charge of specific programs). Anyways myself and my one other coworker are both asian and we're both her interns who basically act as assistants.

back to the "choking" from stress- the list includes(and I quote), "Think differently. Think about yourself in ways that highlight your aptitude for success. Instead of focusing on how your group might be negatively stereotypes, think of the tools you have to excel- you have done well in school in the past or you have a supporting network or peers and mentors" Okay I didn't actually read the negatively stereotypes part. djldfkjgflkgjdflkgjdflkgjfdlk what the fuck???

"Educate the worries. Reminding students that stereotypes are just stereotypes and nothing more can help prevent people from worrying about their ability when the pressure is on."

"Reinterpret your reactions. When under pressure, learn to interpret your bodily reactions in a positive way ("I am amped up for the test") rather than negative ("I am freaking out")." ah yes I will just say that my anxiety and panic attacks are actually just fun little excitement sparks of j o y.

The stereotype threat(Steele & Aronson, 1995) section. Instead of educating yourself about the students you work with, if they're a minority- just ignore that fact! Otherwise you'll make them fail. Set high standards and show them that you have also struggled in school- so that they can relate to you.

This was all in the first 5 pages of this handbook bro. What the fuck.

[dragon-in-the-watery-bowl]

Shallow

I decided to write something to continue to where "Deep Blue" left off.

He stayed in that classroom until he was sure Utsuro had calmed down. If he had known that he would reacted like that after seeing the school's pool, he wouldn't had thought about opening the locker room.

Once the sound of sobbing died down, he looked back to the ghost. He was still sniffling, and trying to angrily wipe off his tears with his hands.

It looked like he hadn't cried for a long time, and the feeling was completely alien for him.

"Do... you feel better?" He asked, making Utsuro stop for a moment, before hesitantly nodding.

He smiled slightly before continuing "If you want, I will not go back to that room" The ghost looked at him in surprised confusion, like if he never had experienced kindness from someone else for a long time "There wasn't anything in there that could help us with our current situation, and searching for even a small clue wouldn't be worth it if being in that room hurts you so badly"

Utsuro averted his gaze from him, getting up from the floor, going back to his usual blank expression, even though he could still see the tear marks on his cheeks.

His death in his killing game had to be horrible if he reacted so badly to the pool. That just made him hate the person behind their predicament even more.

He got up and went to the classroom's door, when someone else opened it up.

In the other side, we're Aoi, Chihiro and Celestia, looking worried.

Oh yeah, he ran away from the pool without explaining anything.

---

After apologizing to Aoi for bumping against her, and making a lie about having thought that he lost his e-handbook in the classroom, he went to the library.

But when he arrived, an argument started between Hifumi and Toko about the "worthiness" of mangas. This fight between the Doshinji Creator and the Romance Novel Writer was something that he didn't wanted to get into, so he decided to look at something else.

So he put his attention on the mysterious letter left on one of the shelves by Kyoko, who had found it some time before, abandoned under the dust that covered the room for some reason.

Utsuro mumbled something about "not having cleaned it", but he wasn't able to hear what he had really said.

After some prodding from Kyoko, he opened the letter and started to read it. It talked about Hope's Peak Academy having to close its doors thanks to... something.

Something so serious that the higher-ups needed to close down the entire place, but hidden so well that he never heard anything about it when he searched information about the school after he got the acceptance letter.

He realized that Utsuro was looking the letter with a pretty intense look, but he averted his eyes when he realized he was looking at him.

Sadly, the letter didn't gave them enough information about why they were trapped in there, with whatever that happened to the school being the mastermind's exclusive knowledge.

Before leaving the room, he realized that there was a laptop, but Kyoko dashed any hopes of being able to use it when she revealed him that it was broken.

Now, the only thing he could do was going back to the dining room and see what the rest had discovered.

But, in the walk there, he realized that Utsuro was thinking about something.

---

After everyone arrived to the dining room, nobody had worthwhile news about a way to escape from this place, with no one finding any kind of exit in any of the new rooms that were unlocked.

After that, the day went uneventful, making him decide, after some hours, to go back to his room. When he closed the door and laid down on his bed, Utsuro floated above him, unbroken gaze looking at him.

"What?" He was slowly getting used to the ghost's presence, but still there was moments where he freaked him out.

"You shouldn't have expected to find a way to escape so soon, that's not how they work"

His comment showed a lot of knowledge about how the mastermind worked, maybe being information that he got from the killing game he suffered before his death "We just thought that we could find something to help us escape"

"Unless you can get Sakura Oogami to unscrew and break one of the windows, something that I doubt they would let you do, your only way to escape is opening the front door without being vaporized by those machine guns" His answer was pretty cynic, like always.

After his comment, Utsuro floated to the other side of the room, with none of them saying anything, with him thinking about the letter on the library, and Utsuro's reaction to it.

"Hey" At hearing his voice, Utsuro looked back at him "About that issue the letter talked about, are you aware of what it was?"

The ghost quirked an eyebrow, his expression still flat "Why do you think I know about it?"

"Oh, well..." Now he felt pretty embarrassed. He had pretty much just asked because of a hunch he had, but there was the possibility of him not knowing about it either "It's just that you looked pretty interested in that letter, and I thought that you could know something about it"

Utsuro stayed quiet for some seconds, in a thinking position, until he answered "I... yes, I heard about it"

That surprised him, but before he could say anything, Utsuro continued.

"But I can't tell you right now, they could be watching"

Oh yeah, they were cameras on all the building, watching every move they did, and the mastermind had already tried to hide from them the fact that the school had been closed for a while, so it wasn't a pretty big leap of logic that they would try to get rid of everyone who could know what happened.

But his answer just left him with more questions than answers.

With the Night Announcement playing on the room's monitor telling them that it was already time to sleep, he covered himself with the blankets, to try to at least get some sleep after everything that had happened last day.

But the only thing he got was a dreamless night.

[uglypastels]

Hello 😊

How about Eddie having a huge crush on the reader but he’s unsure if she feels the same. when one day he comes in early to set up for hellfire and he finds her reading the players handbook like taking notes and stuff trying to learn more about D&D so she can surprise him and play the game he loves. Things get fluffy and it leads to a big confession and kiss 😭 I hope you have a wonderful day!!

ok but this. i love this. i swear you guys come up with the best damn ideas for fics <33 and i just hope i can deliver. (also shit, i completely forgot about the kiss etc. but if people want a pt.2 to this, i am more than happy to oblige, just hmu)

no explicit warnings. swearing.

Eddie Munson requests open // support your local writers and reblog+comment

Chapter 1: Join the Dark Side

Eddie made his way through the hallway. The chain on his jeans clinked with each step– steps, which in turn echoed through the empty corridor. It was an hour before Hellfire would start, so obviously, none of the other members had arrived at the school yet, and everyone else was most likely across campus, on the bleachers watching whatever sports game was happening that evening. So no one would be in this part of the school. 

That’s what Eddie thought, at least. 

He opened the heavy doors to the drama room. It had become an unofficial meet-up spot for Hellfire, primarily because of all the props that the Drama club had left behind from earlier productions. His favourite, of course, had become the large throne he liked to sit in whilst in the game.

Most days, whenever he could, Eddie would be sure to come at least an hour earlier just to finalise the specifics of the upcoming session. Of course, he had planned the entirety of the campaign months in advance, as he liked to put details in to bring back in the later sessions, but he was a perfectionist. He would spend the upcoming hour setting up his place at the table with all the books and files he had made for the forthcoming story. He would reread his notes, perhaps add in something he had thought of at the moment or cut something out he had doubts about. So, easy to say, he needed that extra hour before game time. 

But when he walked into the drama room, he noticed something was off, as the lights in the room were on. Not the usual dimmed ones the club uses, but the bright overhead lighting gave the entire room a yellow and artificial glow. 

He noticed you. Sitting on the ground against the wall, a large book in your lap, absolutely absorbed in it. To the extent that you didn’t see or even notice him walking up to you. Only when he said “Hi” did you scream and jump up. 

‘Woah, sorry,’ he chuckled, ‘didn’t mean to scare you.’ 

‘No, it’s fine,’ you coughed, closing your book quickly, trying to stuff it into your bag. But Eddie had already seen the title, and his interest peaked. 

‘Is that… the Basic Set?’ He pointed at the Dungeons and Dragons rulebook you were holding, the giant dragon on the cover not really allowing you to deny it. 

‘Uhm, yeah, I was just… I don’t know.’ You pushed it into your backpack, zipping it up quickly. ‘I should go anyway; the game is gonna start soon, so…’ you trailed off, not having anything else to add. You just got up, threw the backpack over your shoulder and walked past Eddie, leaving him dazed and confused. Only when you were almost at the door did he speak up. 

‘You´re y/n, right?’ 

‘yeah,’ you answered. You didn’t need to ask him back. If the Hellfire Club shirt and the untamed hair hadn’t been enough of a giveaway, maybe the smell of weed would have been. Though no one would admit it, everyone at Hawkins High knew Eddie Munson. One way or another. Maybe just in the passing of conversation, but that guy was infamous around your school. You had never talked to him, properly, before that moment, for various reasons, mostly because of what you had heard about him from your friends. It was better to not hang around the likes of him and his other freak friends. 

So, when he walked up closer to you, you could feel your heart pounding faster and faster. You told yourself, there was nothing to be scared of. He was just a guy… a very attractive one, at that. You couldn’t lie to yourself. Something about him appealed to you; even if every cell in your body told you it was wrong, you were attracted to him. And maybe that was the reason your curiosity with this game of his had started. 

It started, to be exact, during a certain lunch period. You were walking towards your locker to put away your books from the earlier classes and retrieve your lunch to eat outside. Eddie had been standing only a few feet away when you reached the spot. He was talking to someone, both of them wearing identical Hellfire shirts. As you unlocked your locker, you couldn’t help but listen to what they were talking about. Now, you couldn’t remember what the conversation was about anymore, but they had mentioned stuff that sounded just like a fantasy book or movie. Something that, unknown to your friends, you had seen and read a lot of. It was such an easy way to escape from the hell living in Hawkins. 

Hearing them talk about it for the extended time needed to get your lunch out of your locker was enough for you to get hooked. You weren’t sure what exactly, but you were intrigued by the idea. A quick search in the yearbook for their little “Hellfire Club” told you enough. It was a Dungeons and Dragons club.

A few weeks later, when you finally made an excuse for your friend not to hang out, you went to the library and to your surprise, found an entire dust-covered shelf filled with manuals and rulebooks. You had no real intention of playing, but just wanted to know what the whole thing was about. 

That led you to the Drama club classroom an hour before the big game, catching some alone time to read a few more pages of the book. You hadn’t even realised you had trespassed into the unofficial Hellfire lair. 

Eddie had crossed the room now. He had his arms crossed, tapping his fingers on his bicep. 

‘Would you– are you interested in playing?’ 

‘No,’ you said, probably too quickly. Not intending to insult him, you corrected yourself, ‘I just… was just reading into it. Don’t really know how to play.’ 

‘I can teach you,’ he smiled. ‘It’s not that hard, especially if you’ve got the background information already,’ he cocked his head in the direction of your backpack. 

‘No, I don’t want to bother you–’

‘I didn’t mean now, if that’s what you were going for. I’ve got a campaign to run.’ He said, and you noticed his backpack left on one of the larger tables in the room. 

‘You’re running for class president?’ you asked, to which he started laughing. Then you remembered: a campaign was the game, the story they played. ‘Wow, ok, that was dumb of me,’ you laughed at yourself. 

‘It’s almost finished though,’ Eddie continued once his laughter died. ‘Maybe another session or two, depending on how much the rest decides to wise up. Then we’ll be starting a new one, and it might be easier for you to get started… if you’d like.’ He spoke slowly, cautiously, as if the wrong word would scare you off like a hunter stepping on a twig and scaring off his prey. And perhaps, you would have run of. The door wasn’t a foot away from you. At any given time, you could have told him to piss off and you could have walked away. Who did he think you were? Trying to get you to join his cult. 

Well, you were the person to do exactly that. You had already read enough to see that nothing the media was saying was true. It was a harmless, pretty fun-looking, game, that clearly had a very strong community around it. 

But it didn’t matter what you wanted. If your friends would ever find out that you were spending your evenings with Eddie “the Freak” Munson and his squad of cult members, playing some game where you would kill monsters with dice… you would never see the light of day again. 

‘I don’t even have a character sheet,’ you tried to use that as an excuse, but Eddie wasn’t buying it. Instead, the corners of his lips tightened in a smirk. 

‘The fact you even know what a character sheet is, sweetheart, tells me more than enough.’ He was findings this very amusing. There you were, one of the most preppy students in all of Hawkins High, holding tight on to your backpack strap hiding what most of the people you knew would almost consider illegal contraband. He could practically see the gears in your head turning, fighting the urge to join him on the dark side… not that you would even know what it meant… although, you had already surprised him aplenty in the few minutes you spent together. He wasn’t against one more revelation. 

‘How about my house, over the weekend? I got nowhere else to be.’ 

‘I-’ you didn’t know what to say. 

‘Scared your boyfriend will be upset if we hang out?’ He looked up at you from behind his eyelashes, reading your face for a reaction. 

‘I don’t have a boyfriend.’ You were earnest in your response, maybe too earnest. But Eddie didn’t seem phased. Nothing of his following reaction sounded as if you had just past some kind of test or trick he tried to put up. He just nodded, maybe shrugged a little. 

‘So, what do you think?’ He held his hand out for you to shake. You stared at it, probably for too long, inspecting the rings on his fingers. 

‘I really got to go.’ And with that, you pulled the door open and ran off. It was true, you had agreed with your friends to meet at the game, and you were most likely running late, but your sudden exit had more to do with the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, a tightness that was rising all the way up to your chest... your throat. You didn’t know what to do, so– you ran. 

You were almost at the exit leading to the fields, too, two corridors away, when you finally stopped running and an immense feeling of guilt spilt over you. What you had done was ridiculous, and extremely rude. Eddie had been so nice to you, so welcoming, and you just shut him down and ran away as if he was some psycho trying to lure you into a dark basement. 

Eddie sat down at the table, trying to replay everything that just had happened in the room. Little made sense of it, but then again, when did things in his life ever make sense? 

He pulled his campaign folder out of his bag. A thick and black dossier, with the Hellfire symbol, scratched onto it with a marker. Inside, a collection of scraps of paper with millions of his ideas scribbled into them. A system that would only make sense for the craziest of minds: his own. 

He flipped through the pages when the door of the room opened again. He met your eyes and saw how out of breath you looked but how you tried to keep your composure. But most importantly, he saw your smile, your excitement. 

‘You should probably give me your address,’ you said, still one foot at the threshold, ‘you know, if you want to meet up.’ 

(masterlist linked in bio)

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