#so then we spent the entire maths class trying to

[shigussy]

i keep getting tiktoks of these younger gen z kids referencing a time they did something relating to fandom in public and now they're embarrassed by it and everytime i see one i sit there thinking over all of middle and high school and having genuinely 0 moments that i feel embarrassed by, like i definitely did a lot of shit these kids would be embarrassed by but i think these are all just really fucking funny

also photographic evidence of the kinda kid i was. these are from 2014/15 when i was in 8th grade

-desolation row one shot(still on wattpad gerard way/reader smut)

-twerk it on (mcr crack fanfic no longer on wattpad but i have another fic in my library called twerking in taco bell which definitely ALSO used for my reading log)

-frank iero must die(a serial killer/assassin frerard fic, still on wattpad)

-hair (really vague maybe a phanfic? nowhere in my wattpad library rip)

my binder i used in 7th grade i had a blue one that looked pretty similar to this for 8th grade but idk where it went, also the parts i scribbled out are my full legal name i had written on it. i wrote it normally and then the big spot is where i wrote my name REALLY BIG in elysian code from the vladimir tod books. also the lines are from when i used an exacto knife to cut up some papers and forgot that my binder was underneath

in conclusion yall can now see why im so shameless about talking about shigaraki the way i do

[oflgtfol]

whys everyone making fun of me for disliking complex numbers 😭😭 i hate that shit ever since i took a class on optics and this prof kept trying to make us represent waves using euler’s formula

like what the hell is this. Its cursed. im just gonna continue using normal trig functions idgaf

[ms-demeanor]

*screaming*

*continued screaming*

Okay. So. My introductory Visual C# class.

The professor for that class was Alice. Alice was the person who spoke in the introductory video and the person who we were supposed to email if we had any issues.

But all of the assignments, lectures, and quizzes were written and delivered by Bob. On the youtube channel "Bob's programming academy." The quizzes included Bob's name, like "if you do X will it return the string ProfessorBob, Professor, Bob, or Professor.Bob?"

This class was really frustrating for me because it was structured in such a way that you could easily pass the class with zero knowledge of the subject - it was totally based on quizzes that you could take an unlimited number of times and we *had* weekly programming assignments but they weren't graded so there was no incentive to do them (and look, if I wanted to teach myself programming with no incentives I could fail for several years to do that on my own, I don't need to pay fifty bucks a unit for that; the reason I am in a *class* and am not self-taught is because I need external motivation. That's why I sought out a class).

Also when there *was* a problem with an instruction that was unclear in one of the videos for the assignments, or if I thought I'd done something correctly that was very much incorrect, it wasn't Alice who had created the instructions, it was Bob - in 2017 no less - and I didn't really feel like I could ask Alice for help with an ungraded assignment that she hadn't written.

So. Now. My Python class.

Today is the first day of class. Professor is Charles.

I go to the mandatory attendance quiz and it is word-for-word the same mandatory attendance quiz as the C# class, down to the final question "what is your personal email address so I can keep in contact with you after the semester?"

I look at the syllabus.

Class grade is based on quizzes. We have assignments but none of them are graded. There's no textbook, just a series of videos from Professor Bob's Programming Academy.

So I'd been toying with staying at this school and trying to take more CS classes instead of going to another school, just to try to keep my records easier to manage, but since it seems like that *ENTIRE DEPARTMENT* is five Professor Bobs in a trenchcoat, I will probably be going somewhere else (and once again trying to force myself to do projects that I already know are *good for me to do* but *useless for the class and a massive time suck*)

I should drop this class. I should drop this class and apply for the other school so that I can start taking classes there in the spring because if I take this class and then go into the object oriented programming class in the spring and it's another professor bob sock puppet and I end up taking twelve units of programming classes where all I learn is how to google answers in a short time frame (something I already know how to do thanks) I am going to fucking lose it.

Also, again: I have a Bachelor's Degree. I spent five years at a community college when I was getting that degree. I took probably a dozen online classes starting in 2005 and going until 2011 in the process of getting that degree.

THIS bullshit, this "I'm your professor but actually I'm not and all the materials were created by someone else in the department or came directly from the textbook publisher and there is no writing and there are no assignments everything is multiple choice quizzes that are automatically graded" is *dogshit.*

This is NOT how online classes worked back in my day, not even online math classes, and as much as I know adjuncts are getting fucked over by academia in general, this isn't something that these professors should be getting paid as much as they are to do. Alice checked whether or not students turned in a hello world assignment and gave a pass/fail grades for three discussion boards that were responses to youtube videos. Nothing else in the class required her input. If this is the level of instruction that students are getting then the class is already automated and the students shouldn't have to pay for it.

This is crap. This is an incredible level of crap.

[bobateababe]

hii! can u write a fic of bff!satoru being jealous on fem reader cuz she got another male friend??

oooo sure! I feel like satoru would be a better best friend tbh >3

bff satoru! who you met freshman year of high school. The two of you met when you were in the same math class. Ya'll met when he sat next to you and leaned over and whispered something about the teacher. "I swear to god he's so bald I could literally solve an equation on the back of his head."

bff satoru! who doesn't expect you to laugh at his joke, let alone add on to what he said by making more fun of your math teacher. The two clicked instantly and became known as the duo giggling and laughing in the back of class.

bff satoru! who ALWAYS is stocked up on snacks. Ya'll be munching in the back of class, secretly trying to hide the food from the teacher. He only shares his snacks with you, and even brings extra for you to keep since he knows your daily lunch doesn't have much variety.

bff satoru! who feels a wave of jealousy come over him when he sees another one of you guy friends talking to you.

bff satoru! who tries to make himself appear as the better bestie than the rest of your guy friends whenever your talking to them.

"What was I talking to Y/N about? oh, we were just planning to get ice cream together."

"Pfft. me and Y/N literally skipped school together and spent the entire day at the beach. We even ate ice cream too, while climbing the dunes ofc. "

"uh, good for you?"

bff satoru! who you can't help but laugh at when he tries to make himself appear better than the rest of your friends. When he asks you why you're laughing, you smirk and brush it off as nothing.

bff satoru! who somehow manages to get in on the plans you have with your other guy friends, and ends up joining you in your plans; along with your guy friends. (he has no shame)

bff satoru! who drapes his jacket around you when it's cold at night to show that he's just such a better guy friend than the rest of your other guy friends.

bff satoru! who despite his jealousy, will always be dear to your heart and you assure him that he really is your best friend.

so, was this a purely platonic hc or did it have some romantical undertonesss? tbh it's how u wanna view it.

[oracle-of-dream]

Submissive and huh?

Minors DNI

Summary: Your friend Taerae recently learned a new term and wants your thoughts. Explaining it might help him understand properly, but do you have the strength to tell him.

Warnings: Male Reader, Idol Taerae, Student Reader, Lewd faces/Ahegao, Mention of arousal and breeding

Wordcount: 1.2k

Math classes had been kicking your ass all semester and tutoring from the professor wasn't working out. You'd ended up being assigned a study partner. The program was meant for students struggling with the class to help each other. That's how you met Taerae. 

He didn't originally introduce himself as an idol, especially since it was an online class. No one had seen his face. But when you met up with him for the first time to study together, you instantly recognized him from TV. You hit it off over a shared hate for math and spent more time together outside class.

He'd complain about his idol life issues and you'd give him any notes from class he'd missed.

You'd just gotten home from a late-night study session at the library. As if it knew, your phone lit up with a text as you sat on your bed.

TR: Yo! Y/N, I met some fans while out with the members today!

YN: Cool. Don't you meet fans wherever you go?

TR: Well these stuck out!

YN: How?

TR: Well, I noticed them, a bunch of guys, giggling in the convenience store and pointing at me and Hao while we were shopping. I didn't want to embarrass them so I just played it cool and ignored them. But then they came up to me!

YN: Okay, some brave fans? That's it?

TR: Just wait a sec! 

TR: They came to me and told me they were fans. But more specifically, MY fans! Of course, I was happy to hear, but they were foreigners because they used a term I didn’t know.

YN: What term?

TR: Submissive and Breedable?

TR: I know what submissive means, they mean I'm not an aggressive person. That's not entirely true, but I'm submissive at times.

You looked at your phone, blinking a few times. Some "fans" dared to say that!?

TR: I can't find anything when I look it up, it's probably slang, right?

Maybe telling him that his fans want to breed him wasn't the best thing to tell your friend. He was just too wholesome for that.

YN: Yeah, it is, but it's not something cool. No one says it really, it's not the trend anymore.

TR: Really? I know trends, I'm not old, but I haven’t heard of that.

YN: See? There's no reason to worry, just fans being weird.

TR: Well, the photo they wanted was also...off.

YN: Off how?

TR: They wanted me to stick my tongue out and look up at the camera, which was super high above me. To be honest–it felt a little embarrassing to pose like that.

You shook your head trying not to imagine his cute self making lewd faces for a group of boys, but it was hard. And so were you.

YN: You should be more careful, they could use photos like that weirdly.

TR: What do you mean?

YN: Let's drop it. Subject change, what are you doing now?

TR: I'm getting ready for bed, I just got under the covers.

You looked at the clock, midnight was on its face.

YN: Oh shit, I didn't even realize. You should sleep!

TR: No, no, I'm pretty awake. Plus, it's nice talking to you. Did you want to video call while you get ready for bed?

You’d done it before, talking on video call into the night, but it was always a little like Taerae just wanted to see you.

YN: Sure, I'll call you.

You pressed the video call button on your phone. It showed your reflection as you waited, automatically you straightened your hair a little and kicked some stuff on the floor out of frame.

Taerae answered the phone with a smile, the camera close to his face.

You laughed as you set your phone on your desk, "Well hello to you too, why so close?"

"No reason, I just want to see you closely."

"Well, I can see you so closely I can count your pores," You scoffed as you went into your closet to find pajamas for the night.

"Is it weird I'm holding it so close?"

"A little, but it's no big deal. If you don't wanna show yourself then why'd you wanna video call?"

Taerae didn't answer.

"Are you still thinking about what those guys said?"

He shuffled in bed, "Mmhm."

"I promise it's nothing bad."

"Then why don't you just tell me?"

You sighed, "Okay, fine, I'll spill."

Taerae's eyes peered curiously at the camera as he waited for you to come out of your closet. You settled on wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and shorts. You returned to find Taerae's eyes filled with impatience.

You swallowed awkwardly, "You already know what the submissive part means, but the other part..."

"Breedable," Taerae reminded you.

"Yeah–It means," You struggled to find a good way to break it to him with that look in his eyes. So full of trust and purity. "It means, they wanna do it with you."

Taerae's expression dropped into surprise, "Oh, that's it? I read about that kind of stuff of fans wanting me to have sex with them. That's not so bad."

"Well, breedable means, specifically where you'd be the one getting fucked. Likely by a man. Who wants to... finish in you."

You couldn't bring yourself to look at the screen to see his expression. He'd fallen silent, thinking of a response. It felt like ten minutes passed until he broke the silence.

Taerae's voice was deep and serious, "Y/n."

"Yeah?"

"Look at the screen." You looked at the screen to see Taerae in bed, holding the camera above him to show off his shirtless torso that was mostly covered by the bed sheet except for his collarbone and neck. "Am I breedable right now?"

You felt warm in your face as you answered, "Yeah, I-I guess."

"Submissive, too?"

"Sure," You said as you looked down at your hands.

"Yes or no! Sure isn't good enough, and look at me!"

You complied, looking at him. He smiled before making a face; his eyes looking up at the camera as he stuck out his tongue and held up a peace sign with his other hand.

"Jesus, Taerae!" You looked away quickly. Your heart was in your ears, pounding as the image of sweet Taerae's lewd face was plastered behind your eyelids.

He laughed loudly. "I am, aren't I? Submissive and breedable. I take it as a compliment, they like me that much! To be honest, you look all shy... You look a little submissive too."

You moved your phone so he couldn't see you anymore.

"I was kidding! Don't hide from me!" Taerae's muffled voice shouted from the speaker of your phone. 

After you calmed down, you turned your phone back over to see him still there. Still shirtless, and holding his phone at the same seductive angle.

"You're so weird!" You yelled at Taerae, who just giggled.

"And you still like me anyway. Even with all my breedable energy."

"I'm going to hang up–"

"What!? We gotta see you do the pose too, what if you're more breedable than me, we should test how–"

You cut him off as you pressed the red dial button. You turned your phone off before he could call you again. You lay in bed, alone in the dark, thinking about Taerae's face.

And in the privacy of your home, you test if you can also feel submissive and breedable, making Taerae's new iconic look. A secret he'll never know about... As if you didn't already have a big secret.

[mewhenimanangel]

—synopsis. you finally perform the solo you’d been practicing for the last three months. eren is sure to show up for you

—chapter 8 ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚content!: au-high school, teenage romance, black reader, ballet dancer reader, cheesy romance, idiots in love

previous ౨ৎ next ౨ৎ

"you did what?!" lana whisper-yelled, scolding you as you stretched on the barre. you told her about how you blew off eren's date and told him off monday morning. she asked you how you and eren were doing since she hasn't seen you guys together all week.

you told her about how painfully awkward math class was. for the first time since sitting with each other, you and eren spent the entire lesson focused on mr ryan and writing down the notes. you even moved your self over a bit so to not bump against him.

"is this because of your dad?" lana asked. you rolled your eyes, she knew you too well. during your depressive episodes, lana was the one person you never successfully pushed away. she would show up to your house with snacks and a stuffed animal she thought you would like, your room was growing a collection at this point.

she would then spend the night with you in your bed so you weren't alone.

"maybe it is" you told her as you changed positions according to mrs jaeger's instructions.

"dude. i'm sorry but you can't keep doing this" she scoffed. "what? don't tell me how to cope with my feelings" you got a little defensive.

"you can't be serious." lana deadpanned "girls. focus." mrs jaeger said. "we're not done with this conversation" she whispered.

once mrs jaeger was done with practice, you joined lana at your designated spot in the room.

"listen i know how you get but eren didn't deserve that. he actually really likes you" she chugged her water before continuing "the fact that he even came up to you proves that. don't shut him out."

"fine you're right that he doesn't deserve it but..i think we might as well just leave it there. the show's in a week and i've been slacking off. plus i saw that he followed historia on ig again" you scoffed.

"okay that part is weird. but you can't be upset when you're the one that literally told him to go back to her. that's literally your fault"

"ugh shut up it's not like i meant for him to literally do it." "relax, i don't think they're back together. it's just a follow. connie would've told me if they did get back together"

"ugh i guess you're right" you sighed, grabbing your duffel bag. "practice?" she asked and you nod your head.

"you want me to come back to take you home?" she asked you. "nah it's fine i'll call my mom" you left the room.

you looked down at your phone for a second before you managed to bump into someone. "sorr- oh." annie cut herself off when she saw you.

you rolled your eyes before beginning to walk away. "so how are you?" she put on a phony apologetic voice. "what do you mean?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"well rumor has it that you and eren are done and he's back with historia. that's gotta hurt doesn't it?" she frowned. "i wonder if mrs jaeger is gonna give me the solo now that you've broken her poor son's heart after slutting yourself out"

"...annie do you fucking hear yourself?  whatever the fuck i have going on has nothing to do with you or this solo. i never got the solo because i was talking to eren, i got it cause i'm actually a good dancer and i know how to do a basic fucking spin." you scoffed.

you put your earbuds in and walked away before she could say anything else. it's like everything in your life was just trying to test you this last week.

you spent the next two hours perfecting your solo and going over your parts in the recital.

unbeknownst to you, eren was out in the hallway watching. he subconsciously stopped outside the room when he was going to ask his mom for the keys to the house again.

eren wondered why you even still bothered with these long practices when every move you did while practicing was perfect. it was kind of silly to him. you spun around and eren quickly ducked past the window he was creeping from.

you furrowed your eyebrows, swearing you'd just seen someone standing there.

by this point you were starving, tired, and developing a headache so you decided it was best to call it a night, calling your mom to tell her you were done. you stumbled out of your pointe shoes and changed into the slides you'd brought with you earlier, putting on a pair of sweats over your shorts.

ʚɞ listen to cherry!

you were practically hyperventilating backstage. today was show day, meaning all the dance recitals including your solo. you were so nervous you felt your heart would drop out of your chest.

"dude relax, it's okay. you're gonna do amazing!" lana threw her arm around you. "yeah for real, we've all seen the way you practiced you're gonna do so fucking good" your friend kailee nod her head.

so far you had danced in your hiphop performance, your class's contemporary piece and your solo was coming up after the next performance, you would be closing the recital.

you were currently dressed in a garnet red backless leotard that had a ruffled skirt like hem, white pantyhose, and a pair of white leg warmers.

your hair was slicked back in the tightest bun with a red peony hairpiece while lana helped you with your makeup after you ended up running a little late this morning. "you actually look perfect" kailee handed you a mirror.

"y/n i hope you're stretched, you're up in two minutes!" mrs jaeger came up to you. your heart dropped all over again hearing those words.

lana and kailee squealed as you got up from the ground and started heading closer to the stage.

you took deep breaths as you waited for the school director to announce your name and you walked out on to stage, waiting for the music to start.

you gracefully danced along to the song, making sure the three months of long and intense practices were evident in the way you move.

you were running on adrenaline, making your body shake before you subconsciously shut the audience out and focused on your movements.

you sharpened every kick, graced every pirouette and every spin, matched your movements with the beat and lyrics of the song.

you pretended there wasn't a crowd of people - which was easy due to the dim lights in the auditorium, you pretended it was just you in the room, you pretended it was just you practicing in front of eren while he sat on the floor of the studio and watched your every move.

you wanted to make every move perfect just for him, even if he wasn't there in the crowd. you couldn't but relate the song to your situation with him as you passionately matched the energy of the song. 'I fall to pieces when I'm with you (why?) Cause I love you so much' you memorized those lyrics throughout your practices, you dragged your right leg back behind you as you bent your body back, lowering your self to the ground to match the dramatics of the music.

you looked into the audience, tripping every so slightly when you saw eren looking back at you. he was in the front row with connie, elbows on the armrests as he held his hands in front of his mouth, studying your every move intently. 

eren had memorized these moves and knew the dance was almost over. his gaze never left you and he noticed how your foot slipped when your eyes met his. but you managed to catch yourself, he loved that about you, you always seemed to find a way to get back up.

once you heard the last beat of the song that you'd become familiar with in the last three months you ended your dance in a pose - laying sideways on the floor with one arm holding you up and the other draped over your head, your eyes didn't leave eren's as you tried to hide your heavy breaths.

you tuned back in once you heard everyone in the audience begin to clap and cheer for you. you got up from the ground, smiled, and curtseyed before leaving the stage as the curtains closed.

once you were back stage, lana and kailee hugged you and began jumping around and squealing.

"i don't know WHY you were nervous that has to be the best performance of the whole show" lana praised you. "yeah seriously everything was perfect" kailee nod her head. the other girls back stage clapped along for you too.

mrs jaeger came over to the three of you clapping her hands before reaching out to hug you. "that was beautiful y/n! i knew i made the right decision making you my soloist. every last move was so graceful, even when you tripped and made it look as though it was part of the routine" she told you.

"thank you mrs jaeger" you smiled. "such a beautiful end to such an amazing recital. you all did wonderful jobs this evening i am truly proud. everyone give yourselves a round of applause"

after taking a group picture, you all went to the dressing rooms to grab your things and meet your families in the auditorium.

you grabbed your duffel bag and put on your sneakers. "we ate every performance up oh my goddd" lana squealed as you walked to join the crowd in the audience. on the way there you bumped into mina and annie who rolled her eyes when she saw you.

"nice performance. you looked somewhat decent" she sighed. "thanks" you scoffed before walking away with lana.

for some reason it hit you hard that this would be your last performance, it was almost bittersweet. "can't believe we're leaving this place after this year" lana sighed as you entered the auditorium.

"it's crazy we're literally graduating.."

you scanned the audience for your mom before she turned around, smiling as she made her way to you. "ohhh my baby. you did so good, it was beautiful! and you had the audacity to be nervous like you weren't gonna blow the crowd away!" she hugged you and bobbed from side to side.

"you liked it?" you smiled. "i loved it!" she cheered as she gave you the bouquet of pink peonies. "yeah you actually looked really good" enya chimed in. "thanks kid" you smiled as you brought her in for a side hug.

"ohhh and lana you looked amazing up there sweetie" she pulled your friend into a hug. "every chasse every spin every move ugh you girls are perfect. you keep me young" your mom pulled you into the group hug.

"thank you so much mrs l/n" lana grinned. "oh hang on i'll see you guys later i see my dad" she told you as you all said goodbye.

mrs jaeger came over to you and your mom to congratulate you and praise your work to your mom. "she's such a wonderful dancer, i'm going to miss her next year" she turned to smile at you. "i'll always visit" you smiled.

the four of you turned around when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. your heart sank when you saw eren standing there. he wore a black polo shirt and baggy black jeans.

your mom and mrs jaeger each other a look "sweetie i'll be outside okay?" your mom told you as they stepped away.

"hey" eren stepped closer to you, reaching for a hug. "hi" you threw your arm around him pulling him into the embrace.

"you looked amazing up there" he pulled away to look at your outfit.

eren didn't tell you he was gonna be at the recital but connie brought him along.

watching you dance was always nice but watching you dance your heart out on stage was just so beautiful and encapsulating. eren couldn't get enough of you. everything about you was so graceful and beautiful all the time.

he knew he had to see you once you were done, but he was nervous considering the two of you hadn't spoken much in the last two weeks. he was shocked you even hugged him.

"thank you, did you like my solo?" you grinned. "it was fucking amazing. i don't know what you were so scared of, those practices definitely paid off." he smiled.

"they definitely did" you nod your head, a friendly gesture. "thanks for coming, i didn't think you would" you told him.

"of course i would, i was with you so much when you practiced i had to come see the final product" he smirked as he bumped your shoulder.

your mom came up behind you and put her hand on your shoulder. "hi, i'm y/n's mom" she smiled as she put her hand out for eren to shake. "hi it's nice to meet you, i'm eren" he told her.

"oh well it's nice to finally put a face to the name, i've heard so much about you" she told him and your face dropped when you realized what she meant. eren looked at you with a cocky grin on his face and you smiled before rolling your eyes.

"well it was really nice meeting you but we're gonna have to head out if we wanna make those dinner reservations" your mom turned to you. "oh right" you looked back at eren.

"seriously thanks for coming" you hugged him again and his hands lingered on your waist for a beat longer than they should've.

"of course, i'll see you later" he waved to you and your mom.

nia’s ౨ৎ notes: lmaooo can y’all tell i couldn’t wait to make them talk again

[cecilysass]

Shine On (1/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter One: Vandy

Rawlins Middle School Rawlins, Wyoming February 3, 2015

“Vandy.” Louis slams into Jackson with the force of his entire body. It’s an affectionate body slam, but also hard enough for Jackson to lose his pencil and nearly his armful of books and binders. “Did you hear? I hope it’s true. It better be true.”

“What are you talking about?” Jackson bends over to pick up the pencil, trying not to get knocked over again by the continual current of students on their way to third period.

“The police came to shut the school down. We’re getting out of here, bro.”

Jackson looks up at his friend skeptically. “Louis, what are you talking about, seriously?”

“Second period we could see the police coming into the building.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. And I heard it was because there was a bomb threat and they’re going to close school right after lunch.”

“If it was a bomb threat, they wouldn’t wait to close school,” Jackson points out. “They’d close it right away.”

“Maybe it’s not a for sure bomb threat,” Louis replies. He looks suddenly doubtful. “Fuck, it better be true. I haven’t finished my essay yet.”

“What did you plan to do if there wasn’t a bomb threat?” Jackson asks curiously.

“Hey Vandy.” Delia Rich suddenly appears next to Jackson, and he quickly straightens his posture. Delia is so pretty: brown hair, bangs, pink cheeks, round behind. “Did you hear about the girl in seventh grade?”

“No, I didn’t,” Jackson says. His tone is considerably more polite all of a sudden. “What about her?”

Delia leans toward him seriously and lowers her voice. “She killed her parents and herself and the police are here to question everyone.”

“Naw, the police are here for the bomb threat,” Louis says dismissively, shimmying to the side to avoid a group of loud and oblivious sixth grade girls walking past them.

“Who told you about that?” Jackson asks Delia, frowning.

“Hannah R. in 8C,” Delia says, shrugging. She seems to think of something else. “Oh, Vandy.” Her eyes widen and roll dramatically. “Did you study for algebra? Oh my god, it was awful.”

“Yeah.” Jackson nods, but he’s distracted, even from a conversation he would normally be thrilled to be having.

“I spent three hours last night on quadratic equations,” Delia says. “I’m not even exaggerating. I should have asked you for help.”

“Because he’s such a fucking nerd?” Louis adds helpfully.

“No, because he’s really good at helping with math,” Delia says to Jackson, bumping into him a little. “Can you quiz me before class?”

Over Delia’s shoulder, Louis begins to raise his eyebrows up and down significantly like a maniac. Jackson studiously ignores him.

“Yeah, but I, uh, gotta stop in there first,” Jackson says, gesturing vaguely behind her.

“Stop in where?” She looks around the hall.

“Restroom,” Jackson says, irrationally embarrassed.

“Oh, right.” Delia turns back around. “I’ll see you in a few minutes then?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says, attempting the most winning smile he can muster as she darts across the hall into the classroom.

Louis immediately shoves his shoulder. “What are you doing, dumbass? I thought you liked her.”

“I do,” Jackson says pathetically. “But I have to use the restroom. For real.”

“Jesus, you have absolutely no game.”

Jackson decides not to bring up his friend’s own unsuccessful record with girls. “I’ll talk to you later, Louis.” He begins to make a beeline for the boys’ room.

“Wait, are we playing GTA after school?” Louis calls as Jackson begins to walk away.

“Uh, no,” Jackson calls back. “I can’t today. My parents stayed home to meet the guy delivering our new washer and dryer.” Jackson’s mom hates Grand Theft Auto, so he can only play when she’s out of the house.

“You’re a loser,” Louis responds good-naturedly. “See you later.”

Jackson flees, weaving in and out between students hurrying to make it to class on time.

As soon as Jackson is inside the restroom, he heads directly for the third stall, the only one with a fully functioning lock on the door.

By some miracle, it’s unoccupied. Actually, the whole bathroom is empty. He hurries inside and fastens the latch as quickly as possible.

And then for a moment he stands there, clutching his books and trying to catch his breath. He stares at the back of the stall door. It is covered in scrawled “suck my dick” and “turrrn uuup” in black marker.

Jackson’s not sure why the news of the police coming to his school has him so worked up, but it does. He can still feel his heart racing. Every muscle in his body is tense.

Calm down. Calm down.

He places a hand on his chest and counts to four as he breathes in, then holds his breath for a count of seven, then breathes out. It’s a technique his therapist likes to recommend to him. He’s slightly skeptical that it really works, but he tries it anyway. When he’s getting worried or irrationally fearful, when his emotions start to betray him, he wants anything that will help.

After a minute, the bell rings. Now he’s officially late for algebra. And they’re having a test, one he’s prepared for.

He should leave this bathroom.

He should go to class right now, take his tardy gracefully, sit down, smile at Delia, get out his pencil, and take his test.

Still, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even begin to move. Every instinct is telling him not to move.

Instead, he closes his eyes and empties his mind.

Hesitantly, he begins to push out cautious little tendrils to probe around him in the school. He doesn’t really want to do this, but something deep inside tells him it’s important. That he needs to.

People’s minds feel different, have different textures to them. Right now, as he shines into people, as he gently touches the minds closest around him with his own, he can tell that most of them are kids, his friends and classmates. Kids’ minds are usually sort of bright and loud and flashy, like commercials for kids’ cereals. Every once in a while there’s a kid mind that’s very sad, unusually sad, but even then it’s sad in stark, dramatic colors, clear and tragic and obvious. Kids don’t hide things well.

But he brushes against adult minds in the school, too: teachers, mainly. Adults’ inner lives are so much more complicated than kids’. Harder to get into. Some of them are complex and curlicued, like honeycombs, and others are like smooth stones you find on a riverbed. Some are like an animal carcass rotting, full of holes you don’t want to shine into too deep.

It’s because of adults’ minds that Jackson doesn’t like shining into people’s heads very much. He’d prefer to stay out of other people’s minds as much as possible.

He peeks into the teachers’ minds just enough to identify them, to see their memories: their own faces in the mirror, their classes back up at them, bored faces staring from desks. He’s not looking for a teacher, so he moves along quickly. He doesn’t want to see any of their secrets.

Finally he’s found something different: the front office, a group of minds clustered together, a cloud of anxiety shared among them. One of them he recognizes must be his principal, Mr. Werther – he can see in his memories speaking into the intercom for the morning announcements today. Mr. Werther is feeling very troubled about something right now. His thoughts are racing. He’s wondering what the right decision is. He’s wondering whether he will be blamed if something goes wrong. His mind feels like a soda bottle shook up, ready to burst.

Quickly, Jackson switches his shine to another mind in the group, someone calmer. This mind is sharper, metallic-feeling, and he realizes that it’s a police officer, someone in charge, someone named Davis. He pushes further into Davis’s mind, into his current consciousness, and he sees that Davis is trying to explain the situation to Mr. Werther, trying to assure him that everyone will be safe, trying to let him know that there is back-up waiting right outside the school. Davis doesn’t think Mr. Werther is very smart.

Dimly, Jackson is aware that he is tightening his grip on his books, his anxiety rising. Something is very wrong here. He feels it in Davis’s thoughts. He sees flashes of himself.

He prods the shine deeper into Davis’s mind, pushing back thin layers that seem a little like aluminum foil.

In Davis’s recent memory, there is an image of something horrible: a crime scene. Bodies, shot, a man and a woman. Lying on their kitchen floor in a pool of blood, their faces vacant. Davis stands over them, shaking his head, writing notes.

The bodies’ faces are familiar. They’re Jackson’s parents.

Jackson feels himself start to breathe faster.

As though seeing light behind a dirty window, he starts to see what Davis thinks happened.

He thinks Jackson shot his parents before he went to school that morning. Davis pictures it happening: Jackson, shouting, lifting a gun and shooting first his father and then his mother. Davis thinks he possibly has a gun on him now, at school. The police want to apprehend him safely, with no one being hurt.

“We need to consider him dangerous,” Davis’s voice is echoing through his thoughts. “But we can do this in a way that makes sure no one gets hurt.”

All at once Jackson opens his eyes, falling back into his own consciousness, feeling short of breath.

He realizes he’s trembling. Mom. His parents.

Are his parents really dead? How could they be? He saw them just this morning. His mom had reminded him about his therapy appointment tomorrow and his dad had told him to stop leaving lights on. He hadn’t kissed his mom good-bye. He had been in a hurry.

Jackson feels sick. Mom. Mommy.

It’s impossible. He doesn’t want to think about it. He wants his mom. He wants to throw up.

There is a crackling sound echoing through the bathroom, and then the sound of a tinny voice speaking over an intercom. “Students and teachers, please pardon the interruption. Jackson Van De Kamp in eighth grade, would you please come to the main office? Jackson Van De Kamp in eighth grade, come to the main office.”

Jackson tenses his whole body behind the door of the bathroom stall, ready to push through, an instinctive defensive maneuver.

They’re really going to try to arrest him, he realizes. They really think he killed his parents.

He feels panic rising in his stomach, seriously threatening to make him lose his breakfast. They think he’s a killer.

You don’t have to worry. Not you. You can protect yourself. Stay calm.

He closes his eyes again and carefully shifts the perception of all minds around him, giving himself a thirty foot perimeter of altered reality.

It’s a big effort for him — bigger than his usual modest experiments — but he doesn’t feel any headache. Maybe it’s the adrenaline.

Walking like he’s in a dream—like he’s in a nightmare, really—he cautiously steps out of the bathroom.

Anyone looking in the hall simply sees Louis.

Jackson, as Louis, walks down the hallways of his school at the same slow pace, so as not to attract attention. It’s an effort to keep the minds around him altered and his own posture casual and unassuming. He walks past classrooms, watching all around him with his peripheral vision and the little fingers of his mind. Louis, please don’t happen to come out in the hall to use the restroom at this exact moment. Please.

He heads towards the entrance of the school, which means passing the front office. As he approaches, he sees that now there is actually almost no one around the front office at all. That seems weird—usually there are tons of students and teachers congregating near it.

Just keep walking, he thinks. Hopefully you’ll be unnoticed.

As he’s stepping past the door, two policemen emerge, moving quickly.

“Where are you headed, son?” From a quick tap of his mind, Jackson recognizes this man as Davis, the officer apparently in charge.

“My mom’s car. Dentist appointment,” Jackson mutters.

Davis glances out the door, where there is fortunately a car in the parking lot that looks plausibly like a waiting parent. “All right, go quickly. Don’t hang around. We need all students out of this general vicinity.”

Davis waves him out, and Jackson eagerly follows in the direction of his gesture out the door.

The February temperature hits him like a slap in the face. Regretfully he realizes his good winter coat is in his locker, back inside the school.

He keeps walking casually down the steps of the school and down the driveway, already beginning to shiver uncontrollably.

When he gets to the road, out of easy eyesight of the school, he drops his books on the ground and begins to jog. The school is on a wind blown, gray, desolate-looking Wyoming road, with little traffic except for those coming to the school. He drops his Louis perception filter. There’s no one to see.

And after he does, he discovers to his surprise that he’s crying.

He has no idea where he’s going now.

He has a vague idea that he should get out of town—maybe to a big city, like Cheyenne or Denver—but he isn’t sure how to get there. He has no money. He could hitchhike, but the idea of hitchhiking scares him, which makes him feel ashamed.

It’s just he’s too familiar with the kinds of things that adults think about. And after all, someone just killed his parents.

Why did someone kill his parents? Who would do that? His parents never did anything to anyone. They weren’t drug dealers or thieves. They were Lutherans. His mom made casseroles, and his dad carved wooden ducks. They were cheerful, optimistic, the type of people to see the good in everyone. Sometimes Jackson felt like he didn’t have much in common with them— like they saw the world very differently from him— but he loved them. He could never have hurt them. And he hates to think of what they thought, in the moment they died.

He finds himself crying harder as he jogs. He shouldn’t do this now; it’s too cold for tears. He tries to wipe them off with the sleeve of his sweater. But it’s hard to stop crying once he’s started.

He tries to jog faster. Turns it into a run. Maybe this will snap him out of it, clear his head. He’s always been good at running. At the very least it will warm him up.

Just keep running, he tells himself. He smiles a little, because it reminds him of a line from one of his favorite movies when he was a kid, Finding Nemo. Just keep swimming. His mom would repeat the line to him as a joke when he was learning to swim.

He blinks back the tears again and runs harder.

He wonders if Louis will think he really did kill his parents. He wonders if Delia will. He wonders if the other kids at school will all talk about it: Jackson Van De Kamp, the psycho kid who shot his family and was planning on shooting up the school. If they will make up stories about why he was going to do it.

A car passes on the road, and he quickly slips a filter into the driver’s mind: he’s a nice old lady picking up trash along the side of the road.

When the car passes, he continues running and considers his options. He doesn’t have a phone. His parents were waiting until high school to get him one. Even if he did, he couldn’t use it now anyway—the police would track him.

Shelter is an immediate problem. There’s a Frontier Museum in downtown Rawlins. He wonders if he might go inside and find a place to hide overnight, at least until he has a better idea. But the museum costs money to get a ticket, and he doesn’t have money.

He could try to contact his Uncle Wyatt to see if he would help him. But what if Uncle Wyatt believes the story and thinks Jackson killed his parents? Uncle Wyatt has always found Jackson annoying, ever since Jackson threw that basketball into his flatscreen TV when he was six. He could very well decide to turn his nephew in.

Then there is his birth mom. Jackson wishes he could ask her. He thinks he’s seen her, once or twice, in his occasional visions that come in fast and bewildering flashes. At least he thinks it’s her. It’s a woman he has some very close connection to, a red-headed woman, who is always very sad. He wonders if she would help him. He likes to think she would. But that’s a childish fantasy, because he has no clue where to find her. He can’t reach out and try to shine every mind in the whole world to try to locate her. He needs to stick with practical ideas right now.

He’s been walking and running for three miles, the wind biting incessantly into his clothes, when he hears another car coming down the road. With the fingers of his mind, he reaches out towards the driver’s mind to tweak their perception.

But strangely, he finds he can’t. Something in the driver’s mind is pushing back, keeping a wall up so that Jackson can’t change what they see.

He feels a stab of panic. He didn’t know this was possible. He’s never seen this before. Some paranoid part of him wonders if this is the person who killed his parents.

The car is sleek and black, with mirrored windows. It slows down right next to him. Jackson looks wildly back and forth for somewhere to run and hide, just in case there is someone inside with a gun—but there is nothing around him but open land, no possible shelter for miles.

He finds himself doing nothing but standing there stupidly, an open target, his eyes widening as the window rolls down.

“Jackson Van De Kamp?” a female voice says.

“Yeah,” Jackson manages, his voice scarcely a whisper.

It’s a woman: a surprisingly young woman wearing mirrored sunglasses, her blondish hair pulled back in a ponytail. She doesn’t look like a killer. But Jackson knows very well that evil people don’t always look evil.

“It’s come to my attention that you might need some assistance.”

He can’t think of anything to do but bob his chin up and down in a nod.

“Why don’t you get in the car, and we’ll talk?”

It looks so warm inside. He has nowhere to go. She dangles the promise of information, something important he doesn’t know.

Still, some sense of self preservation keeps him from stepping forward. Desperately, he tries to noodle a shine into her mind, trying to see what she’s all about. But he can’t. It’s like it’s boarded up.

She smiles a little at him in a guarded way, not showing her teeth. He has the weirdest feeling that she knows exactly what he is trying to do.

“W-who are you?” he says hoarsely. “Do I know you?”

She sighs, as if she expected this. “If you get in the car, I promise I’ll explain, Jackson.”

He hesitates. Then, taking a deep breath, he starts to make his way toward the passenger door.

Really, what other choice does he have?

***

[steddieas-shegoes]

So feelings on Rockstar Eddie and househusband/stay at home dad Steve?

You can't tell me that boy doesn't want to just be a stay at home dad.

🖤❤️🖤❤️🐼🦇

Get OUT OF MY BRAIN!!!

It wasn’t their original plan, Steve still wanted to be a teacher. He went to school, fought hard for his degree (through migraines and math classes that he hated), managed to get a job right out of school with at an elementary school.

Eddie kept touring, recording, touring, recording.

When he was home, they spent every moment they could together.

When he wasn’t, Steve missed him, but knew it was his dream. He was so proud of him.

After three years though, Steve admitted he wanted to slow down a bit, maybe try to adopt.

Eddie wasn’t opposed, but Corroded Coffin was at the height of their fame and he couldn’t just stop what they were doing. Steve didn’t want him to.

He said he’d start tutoring when he got bored, but that he wanted to focus on having their own family. He was fine with following Eddie on tour sometimes.

“We can come with you on the Midwest stops!”

And Eddie wanted that, too.

It took another year for them to be able to adopt: a fun, hyper two year old girl named Danielle (Dani for short) who was their entire world in seconds.

Eddie managed to take a month off to spend time with her and Steve, experience being a dad.

And then they came with him on tour for a month, and Danielle loved it.

She was obsessed with the drums, and luckily it didn’t bother anyone that she like to try to “make music” when they weren’t.

She had everyone wrapped around her finger, but she still had to have a normal life, too.

It was hard at first, kind of lonely, but Eddie called before every show to talk to them, and then after every show to talk to Steve like he’s always done.

After the tour, Eddie got a six month break.

They did everything: beach trip, road trip, camping in the mountains, Disney World.

And they talked about more kids.

Steve knew he wanted to teach again someday, but for now, he was happy to stay home and be a dad.

“It’s still teaching, it’s just more personal.”

They grew their family more and more, they found a balance between Eddie’s career and raising their kids. Steve worked hard at home, getting the kids to school, to their activities, to appointments.

He loved it. He loved their life.

[wandas-lovey]

I’m being delulu so i started wondering (¡again!) what life with five would be post-season 3. But like…he’s a teacher in this…

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

* after all his siblings left when Reggie reset the universe you’re left with a mopey five

* you’re both pretty sad the first couple of days having just lost the people you love most :(

* but we don’t have time to be sad we need to get jobs!!!

* im gaslighting myself into believing that five and you have a place to stay the first night in the new timeline instead of being homeless 💀

* five becomes a teacher in the new timeline and you can’t convince me otherwise

* and what do you know!! you become a teacher too :D

* five would definitely teach math while you’d teach history (cuz you traveled through time when working with the commission, idk just go with it)

* while your classes may be a bit hard for the students you two are definitely the schools favorite teachers!!

* i mean why wouldn’t you be? the students can’t get enough of the two mysterious young teachers who showed up out of nowhere in the middle of the school year….

* you two definitelyyyy didn’t threaten the previous math and history teachers to quit their jobs or else they’d be dead by nightfall

* I just know many students are crushing on you BOTH. have you seen yourself lately? You look great ;)

* you both find it funny tho cuz they believe they’re crushing on teachers who are in their early 20s when it’s actually two 50 year olds in their younger bodies

* you two wouldn’t be the type to eat lunch with the rest of the faculty. you’d eat together in each other’s classroom enjoying your time together even if it’s for a short time

* five’s the type of boyfriend/teacher who interrupts your class for the dumbest reasons just cuz he wants to see you :,)

“can i borrow your stapler for a minute?”

“i’m in the middle of class right now”

“Yes I’m aware but i need to finish stapling the students review packets”

“you bought a stapler yesterday…”

“yeah but yours works better”

“OUT!!!”

*your students definitely find it cute :)

* after witnessing playful banter between the teachers that was a little too ~flirtatious~ the students get suspicious of what’s actually going on between their math and history teacher

* “are-are you and mr.hargreeves together..?”

* up until this point neither of you have confirmed to your students what your relationship was with each other

“unfortunately we are” you say with a smile on your face

*after confirming your relationship that day, your students spent the rest of the class asking you all types of questions about your relationship

“how did you and mr.hargreeves meet??”

“how long have you been together?”

“did you ask him out first or did he ask you?”

“why did you wait this long to tell us??”

*when your classes switch out and head to their next class with mr.hargreeves they try and pester him too about your relationship

“why aren’t you married yet?!?”

“ oh wow. i didn’t realize that was any of your business”

* you two are the kind of teachers to always be chosen to be chaperones for school dances.

*five definitely complains the entire night about being tired and wanting to go home

*who could blame him. watching over teenagers for hours making sure no one’s bumping uglies is exhausting

“how much longer till we can leave? This music’s awful. I’d rather throw myself off a building than be here.”

“Five…we just got here”

“What’s your point?”

*after a long night of watching over whore-knee kids, you head home ending the night with curling up on the couch and falling asleep in each other’s arms while The Breakfast Club plays in the background

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

i have no clue how to fucking end this 💀

also this shit ain’t proofread

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A year later and this post is still better than the way season 4 ended 🤨🤨

[soloroomies]

You, Across The Street | (a Suna Rintarou fic)

・❥・Chapter two; Year Five (A Treehouse)

synopsis: At the age of five, you met the neighbor boy who lived just across the street, Suna Rintarou. As the years unfold, this story will chronicle the evolution of your friendship, year by year. But as life moves on and paths diverge, will it blossom into something more? Or will it remain a cherished bond between two childhood friends? “The lines between friendship and love often blur when you’ve known someone your entire life."

word count. 3.6k cw. childhood friends au, slow burn, coming of age, puberty stuff a/n. quick update on chapter two 🤭 I actually finished writing it yesterday; it just needs a bit more editing! But I haven’t started anything on the next chapter yet, so it will take longer for the next update🥲

Masterlist

You walked into your house with Rintarou right on your heels. Your mother had just headed out for a field trip at the local park with the preschool, where both your little sister Hana and Rintarou’s little sister, Kimiko, were.

Hana and Kimiko were born in the same year, not long after you moved in, and you couldn't have been happier. They became designated friends in everything, like you and Rintarou. Yuuko, Rintarou’s mother, was like a second mother to you, and your mother was the same for the Suna kids. They often stepped in for each other at school events when the other couldn’t come. Like today’s field trip, Yuuko was stuck at work, so your mother had stepped in to chaperone Kimiko and keep an eye on her.

"Let's work on the math homework first," Rintarou suggested, plopping down beside you at the coffee table in the living room and pulling out his exercise book.

"Okay! But wait! I want to grab some snacks first. Do you want something?" you asked, getting up.

"Still got those cheese sticks? I like those."

You thought for a moment. "Oh yeah! We still have them. I'll grab some."

"Want me to help?"

"Nah, you’re no taller than me. I can reach that top drawer myself," you said, sticking out your tongue as you walked into the kitchen.

"Well, I’m taller than you, you dummy. And I’ll definitely be waay taller than you," Rintarou retorted, rolling his eyes. It was true; he was a bit taller than you, but you often tiptoed whenever he tried to compare his height to yours. What a cheater.

Now that you were in fourth grade, it was kind of funny to think about how Rintarou once saw you as a strange object back in preschool. He had come to see you as a true friend. It wasn’t just because you both spent so much time together, but because he genuinely enjoyed your company.

You both dove into your math homework, tackling each question together.

“Like this, Rin. You can write the calculation while you read the question,” you explained, scribbling beside the problem and translating the mathematical operation from the sentence. He gave it a shot, double-checking with you, and you gave him the thumbs-up.

“This is the formula for the perimeter and area,” you noted, rounding off the writing in your notebook.

Rintarou really relied on you for academic things. You weren’t the type to bury yourself in books, but you got things fast and really liked helping others figure stuff out. It motivated you to study more, you said. So basically, Rintarou was like your pupil when it came to homework or study sessions.

After finishing the homework, you both relaxed on the couch, watching TV shows and snacking.

“Rin, you really should teach me how to play volleyball,” you said, munching on snacks.

“Okay. But you’re such a bummer, ___.” He kept his eyes glued to the TV, not sparing you a glance.

“Hey! Shut up. It was my first time playing outside of PE class!” You tried to kick his leg, but he kept pushing your body away from him.

“No, it’s not. Don’t try to lie to me.”

Well, you were in fact lying to him. Remember that time you tried to play volleyball with Rintarou? Yeah, it was a disaster. Honestly, you were scared of making a fool of yourself, and guess what? You did. You kept messing up—missing basic moves and having the ball go all over the place. Sometimes it even hit the net, and other times it went flying out of bounds.

Why were you so freaked out about embarrassing yourself? Because Rintarou was very splendid at it. He flaunted his skills last time you played with him. Matter of fact, the PE teacher in your school even recommended him to join the local volleyball club for children. You tried to be at least half as good as him, but it was still tough. You used to play all sorts of sports together when you were younger, but as you both got older, the gap in your skills just grew bigger, which annoyed you greatly. It sucked!

“If you want to do a sport, I think karate or judo would suit you better,” Rintarou suggested, trying to offer a truce.

You raised your eyebrows at him, pausing your attempts to kick him. “Why?”

“I don’t know. But you like to pick fights with those boys,” he shrugged, grabbing a cheese stick from the table now that you’re calmer.

“Rin! Can’t you see that they’re so annoying? Especially Yuto!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“Yeah, I know,” Rintarou said, taking a bite of the cheese stick. “But karate’s cool, though. You could really kick their butts then.”

With a playful glint in his eye, he lazily poked the cheese stick at your face. “And Yuto likes you, stupid,” he added, his smirk widening into a teasing grin.

“Ew! Don’t do that.” You shoved Rintarou's hand away.

“And no, he doesn’t like me. He’s just annoying.”

Rintarou shrugged, barely looking at you. “That's what boys do when they like a girl.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “What? That’s dumb. Why would you annoy someone if you like them?”

“Dunno. Boys are weird,” he said, waving his hand like it was no big deal.

“You're a boy, dummy!” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

“Yeah, but I’m one of the not-weird ones,” Rintarou replied, turning to you with a little smirk.

You made your best disgusted face, scrunching your nose and rolling your eyes dramatically.

Just then, the door swung open, revealing your mother and the little sisters. Hana and Kimiko burst through, practically bouncing with excitement, their eyes sparkling with pride as they showed off their painted drawing to you and Rintarou.

“This is from yellow and blue paint to make green!” Hana exclaimed, pointing enthusiastically with her chubby finger to a vibrant spot on the canvas.

“And this is purple from blue and red!” Kimiko added, pointing to a different area with equal excitement.

“Woah! This is so cool! Right, Rin?” you commented exaggeratedly, nudging Rintarou gently with your elbow.

Rintarou's brows furrowed slightly as he studied the painting. You couldn’t actually make out any drawings there. It was a four-year-old's drawing, anyway. His lips twitched, almost forming a smile before he managed to compose himself. “Wow, that’s, uh, really something,” he responded, with suppressed laughter.

Hana and Kimiko, however, looked satisfied with both your reactions, their smiles widening as they continued to admire their artwork with excited chatter.

“Hey, your hands are still covered in paint,” Rintarou said. “Why don’t you wash up first?”

The little girls exchanged a glance, ready to protest, but Rintarou was already on his feet, guiding them to the sink. He helped them up onto a chair so they could reach the faucet and carefully showed them how to scrub the paint off their hands.

“Thank you, Rin!” your mother said as she walked out from her room after changing clothes.

“No problem.” Rintarou said after he finished helping them, plopping down beside you again.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“Hey,” you felt a tap on your shoulder from behind.

You turned around to see Emi and Osuke, the seatmates sitting behind you who had also become your good friends, both grinning mischievously. This kind of expression usually meant that Emi, the mastermind of your adventures, had found a new spot to explore. Rintarou looked at them too, curious.

“We found this super cool place and we gotta show you after school!” Osuke said, practically bouncing with excitement.

You were sold instantly. “Awesome! What’s the big surprise?”

“It’s a treehouse!” Emi announced, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Your jaw dropped, and a huge grin spread across your face. You looked at Rintarou, who seemed pretty chill about it, and gave him a little nudge. “Come on, Rin! This is gonna be so much fun!” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a hopeful tug.

Rintarou was silent for a second. “Okay. But don’t forget to tell your mama first.”

You nodded enthusiastically.

The moment the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, having already tidied your desk. Rintarou was moving like a tortoise, so you zipped over and helped him stuff his stuff into his bag.

You and Rintarou walked to where you parked your bike and pedaled your way home in a hurry, having promised Emi and Osuke that you’ll meet them in front of the minimart near the school no longer than 30 minutes.

As you burst into the house, you quickly stripped off your school uniform and changed into a comfy t-shirt and shorts. You dashed around, looking for your mother. “Maa, where are you?” you called out, a mix of impatience and excitement in your voice.

Your mother emerged from the bathroom, her expression turning into a frown as she took in your disheveled appearance. Her eyebrows knit together as she approached you.

“Ma, can I please play with my friends?” you asked, your hands clasped together in a hopeful gesture.

Your mother crossed her arms, her frown deepening. “Where?”

“Just, you know, that park near school,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Will Rintarou come too?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

You nodded vigorously. “Yes, he will!”

“Okay. I don’t want something like last time to happen again,” she began, her voice rising in frustration. She placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward, her gaze piercing. “I told you to come home before it gets dark, but you didn’t listen. Do you know how dangerous that can be?”

You shifted from foot to foot, looking down and fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration.

Last time, you played outside with Emi only. Rintarou had volleyball practice, and Osuke was busy with his big sister. You got so wrapped up in tossing pebbles into the lake and feeding the geese that you didn’t notice the sun had set on the horizon. Covered in dirt, you knew your mother would flip if she saw you like this, so you stopped by Emi’s to clean up and borrow one of her shirts.

By the time you finished, it was pitch black outside. Emi’s place was close, but you’d never biked home alone this late before. Too scared to call your mother (because she’d definitely lose it), you called Rintarou’s home instead. Thankfully, it was him who picked up the call. Quickly saying that he’d come get you after you told him your situation. 

When he arrived, Rintarou shook his head at you. “You brat,” he teased, messing up your hair. You wanted to argue but knew you were in the wrong, so you just sighed in resignation.

When you finally got home, your mother was standing in the doorway. She thanked Rintarou and then immediately started scolding you, expressing her disappointment in you for not heeding her words. It was the only time you had played outside without Rintarou, and you had already been irresponsible.

Thankfully, Rintarou was available today. Otherwise, your mother wouldn’t have allowed you to go out again, which meant missing the treehouse Emi had found. Bummer.

Rintarou knocked on your door, already changed into his casual clothes. You opened it with a smile. “Hey! Let me just say goodbye to Mama,” you said briefly before heading to the kitchen, where you heard the clinking of dishes.

“Ma, I’m going!”

She nodded. “I’m going shopping later with your papa and sister. If I’m not back when you return, just head over to Rin’s house.”

“Okay, got it! I’ll see you later,” you called out before turning back to Rintarou. “All set! Let’s go.”

Quickly, you got on your bike and rode to the minimart with him.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The place turned out to be quite far from your house. You’d totally fibbed to your mom saying it was near—truth is, you didn’t even know where it was when you asked her if you could go.

It was a forested park, a few blocks from your school, in a neighborhood that didn’t get much traffic. Emi always had the scoop on cool spots because her big brother had been all over town exploring. The park was not abandoned, but it seemed like not a lot of people visited there. Perhaps because there were not that many children living in the area.

A large field greeted you at the entrance, likely used for playing sports. Beyond the field, the forested area came into view. And there it was, nestled among the trees, stood a giant treehouse.

As you got closer, you spotted wooden steps nailed to the tree trunk.

Rintarou eyed them and asked Emi, “You sure this is safe?”

Emi grinned, “Totally! My brother used to come here all the time. Come on, let’s climb!” Without missing a beat, she started up the steps.

“I’m next!” Osuke shouted, lining up behind Emi, who was already a few steps up.

You looked at Rintarou, silently asking if he wanted to go first.

“You go first,” Rintarou said with a smirk.

“Alright, but don’t wimp out!” you shot back.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

The climb was easy, and the wooden steps proved sturdy enough to hold your weight.

As you entered the treehouse, you noted that it was quite spacious, more so than you had imagined. The windows, devoid of glass, were wide, panoramic openings that spanned nearly the entire side of the treehouse facing the town. It was perched high enough to offer a new perspective, and your breath was taken away by the stunning view.

Rintarou gently pulled you back from the edge, not fully trusting the wooden walls.

You were too busy soaking in the view to notice.

From this vantage point, everything looked different—familiar streets and buildings took on a new charm. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, gentle shadows that added depth and contrast to the scenery below. You could see the rooftops of houses, some with tiled designs and others more modern. The streets were lined with trees, leaves rustling in the breeze, and you could hear the distant hum of everyday life mixed with birds chirping. It was magical.

You didn’t realize you were staring with your mouth open until Osuke shouted, “This is so cool!”

You turned to see Rintarou staring at the wide window, his hand still clinging to your arm from his earlier worry about your hasty step. Nudging him, you asked, “Cool, right?”

He looked at you, nodded, and mumbled, “Yeah, pretty cool.”

“See! I told you you’d like it!” you said, giving him a triumphant grin.

You started exploring the treehouse, checking out the names scribbled on the walls. You were in awe; each inscription was a testament to the kids who had once played here before you. Some names were faded and nearly illegible, with dates stretching back a decade or more. Just then, Emi pulled something from her bag—a dagger.

“Emi! How’d you get that?” Osuke asked, looking scandalized.

“I snuck it out,” Emi said with a proud smirk.

“Smart move, Emi! A marker or pen would’ve washed out eventually!” you chimed in.

You heard Rintarou tsk behind you, but you just stuck out your tongue at him.

Emi started carving your names into the wooden wall, and you and Osuke added some fun doodles. Rintarou, though reluctant, was forced to contribute. He carved the year under your names.

You traced your fingers over the carved lines, measuring the depth of the carving. A smile crept across your face as you confirmed it was deep enough. How cool it would be if, years from now, your names were still here—a little piece of your childhood preserved forever.

(When you came back years later, the carvings were still there, as vivid as the day you first made them.)

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You were at first reluctant when Rintarou told you to go home, insisting you wanted to watch the sunset there.

“But I want to watch the sunset!” you whined.

Rintarou crossed his arms. “If you don’t come down, I’ll never play with you again.”

You huffed, giving in. “Fine, but you’re no fun.” You climbed down from the treehouse, feeling the itchiness from the dust on your clothes.

“Your clothes are all dirty,” Rintarou pointed out, wrinkling his nose.

“I know,” you said, scratching your arm. “This dust is making me itchy.”

“Let’s go home before it gets worse,” he said, starting to walk.

You sighed and followed him, glancing back at the treehouse one last time. “You owe me for this.”

Rintarou rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you an ice cream or something.”

“You better!” you replied, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Come on, slowpoke,” he teased, walking faster.

“Hey, wait up!” you called, running to catch up with him to reach your bike.

When you arrived in front of your house, you noticed the lights were still dimmed. Then, you remembered your mother saying that she would be out with your father and sister.

“Rin!” you shouted, running to Rintarou's front door.

He turned around, confused. “What?”

“I forgot. Mama said everyone’s going out. I’ll stay with you until they get back.”

Rintarou shrugged. “Okay, cool.” He unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. “Looks like no one’s home here either.”

You followed him to his room, scratching at your dusty clothes. “Rin, can I borrow some clothes? This is so itchy!”

“Yeah, hold on.” He dug through his drawer, then turned to you. “Don’t sit on my bed, okay? We’re all dirty.” 

You snorted. “Duh, I’m not that dumb!”

He threw a black shirt and pants at you, along with a fresh towel.

“Just making sure,” he teased.

“You can use the shower here,” he said, pointing to the bathroom in his room. “I’ll use the one upstairs.”

“Thanks, Rin,” you said, heading to the bathroom. “You’re a lifesaver!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a grin, heading out the door. “Just don’t use all the hot water!”

You nodded and walked into the bathroom, eager to clean your itchy body.

As you rubbed your body with soap, you found yourself trying to recall the last time you weren’t embarrassed to be naked in front of Rintarou. Was it, like, two years ago? You hadn’t showered together since you were little, but you remembered a time when it didn’t bother you how much skin you showed him. Changing clothes in front of him used to feel completely normal.

Now, though, you couldn’t even think about being shirtless around him. Your embarrassment had grown as your body was… changing. Your mother had explained puberty to you, describing how your body would transform into that of an adult’s. You would start to resemble her and other grown women. She said you’d learn more about it in school soon, but you’d already noticed some of the changes yourself.

You started to grow breasts and there was hair in new places. Truthfully, you were super embarrassed about it. And also kind of annoyed. Why did your body have to change? Your breasts sometimes felt tender and uncomfortable. You felt like you had to cover up more. Why couldn’t you be like Rintarou? Not having to grow breasts!

And then there was the whole period thing your mother mentioned. Blood coming from down there? What?! You really hoped it would be a long time before you reached that phase.

After you dried off and put on the clothes Rintarou gave you, you walked out of the bathroom and saw him sprawled out on his bed, totally absorbed in his console games. You gave him a nudge to make some space and lay beside him.

“Hey, Rin,” you called out.

“Hm?” he grunted, eyes glued to his game.

Without warning, you pinched his chest.

“Hey! What was that for?” He stared at you, totally confused.

“Did that hurt?”

He glared at you. “What do you think? You just pinched me!”

“Well, do you feel anything there when I’m not pinching you?”

Frowning, he replied, “No?”

You sighed. “Boys' puberty is different, then. I thought your chest would feel weird or something, even if it’s not growing.”

Rintarou’s brow furrowed deeper, and his eyes squinted in confusion, as if trying to make sense of the nonsensical words he had just heard.

"Your…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "Your chest hurts or something?"

You shook your head. “Not exactly ‘hurt,’ more like it sometimes feels like it’s throbbing or tightening, you know?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking both curious and a little concerned. “Throbbing and tightening? That sounds kinda weird.”

You shrugged, a hint of frustration in your voice. "Urgh, nevermind," you muttered, waving off the topic.

You leaned into him, watching him play, and asked if you could have a turn when he was done.

You two played together until you heard Yuuko and Kimiko in the living room. Realizing your family might be home, you quickly got up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Rintarou asked, sitting up.

“Where else? It’s late, and Mama’s gonna freak out,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Alright, alright, now shoo," he said, waving you off and flopping back onto his bed.

You shot him a glare and pinched his stomach, making him groan. He was about to retaliate, but you quickly locked both his hands together. He might be a whiz at sports, but you were still stronger. You laughed and hurriedly ran out of his room. He chased you but stopped when he saw his mother. You waved goodbye to Yuuko and Kimiko, giving Rintarou one last smirk before shutting the door behind you.

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @gojoscumslut, @boogiemansbitch

[tomatosoupandpasta]

bro I fuckinf hated my math teacher last year

I’ve always liked math and she made me dread that class

for one she was SO SLOW. WE SPENT THREE WEEKS ON ONE FUCKINF QUESTION. OKE QUESTION. MY FRIENDS AND I WENT AHEAD AND FINISHED THE PACKAGE

also she treated the class like her own personal therapists. Maam we are children please don’t rant to us we don’t know how to reply to you

she always had a habit of going off on tangents for the smallest thing and it would disrupt the class, then she’d complain about how there “wasn’t enough time to get through everything in one semester” I wonder why. We almost didn’t cover everything we needed for culminating

she would regularly get the answers to the packages she claimed her made herself wrong. One time the entire answer page was wrong. The whole thing. I don’t even KNOW how she did that

she also very clearly had favourites and grudges. She didn’t like my friend, which we KNEW because she took off a mark on her test for something that she gave me full marks for on mine and she had a favourite kid who she would always talk to because they were both from Croatia

if I ever get her class again I am transferring I disliked that woman so strongly

thank you for listening to my Ted talk

Reminds me of my current math teacher HE'S SO FUCKING ANNOYING????? Like I usually try and keep a calm opinion but like I HATE HIM SO MUCH

current example (I wasn't in this hour, but I heard multiple accounts and I know the teacher so I believe it): Someone started crying in class because of anxiety issues yk and when my friend tried comforting him and calming him down SHE GOT DETENTION??????? SIR WTF?????

also he always goes off topic. I've literally played pjsk in his class and missed nothing. He spends and entire hour on one question and gets mad at US??????? my friends play fucking dress to impress in class and pass

Hejnsnek sorry for snatching your rant but UGHHHHH

[willow-lark]

one thing about me is that i will always and forever be a stoncy girly. i occasionally rb posts about them but i'm mainyl involved in the byler fandom atm so i don't talk ab them as much as i want to. anyways

stoncy is really interesting to think about particularly considering where things are in canon for the three of them right now. so, firstly, my thoughts on that:

i am 100% rooting for jancy endgame in-show. i'm not a fan of love triangles (hence why i started shipping stoncy in the first place, they all have chemistry n i think they should all kiss each other at the exact same time) but up until s4 there was no reason to think that jancy wouldn't be endgame, and honestly i'm upset that the writers brought stancy back in, considering that steve's s3 arc was all about him learning he doesn't need romantic love to fulfill his life, and what he and nancy each want in life simply are not compatible. jancy r iconic. jancy r goals. jancy had a whole speech in s4 talking about all the things they love about the other. although they've hit a slight rough patch due to jonathan's conflicting desires in supporting her goals while also being there for his family which has historically needed a lot of his support, they just need to get on the same page about this. they WILL prevail i KNOW this i TRUST

okay, lark, you say. if ur so obsessed with jancy endgame then why stoncy at all? AND I WILL TELL YOU WHY.

it all comes down to stonathan. also shoutout to @messrsbyler for championing the stonathan agenda lately. we should all attempt to live up to your example. SO TRUE.

so. post-s1 era in-show. or, honestly, u can rework this and make it fit at any point in the timeline. but anyways: nancy's with steve, they r trying and somewhat struggling to make it work (though they did last an entire YEAR so kudos for that ig). nancy VERY obviously has feelings for jonathan, who hangs out with her sometimes but is generally avoiding both of them. and honestly? steve thinks jonathan's pretty cool too. and, like, he spent a while treating jonathan like shit so he should probably try and make it up to him. right??? AND THEN THEY KISS.

no, but actually: steve's the type not to even realize that he's actually in love with jonathan. he's like, well, nancy loves him, and i love nancy, so... (that's the transitive property, right? i don't remember anything from 5th grade math class.) he doesn't even realize it's gay of him to feel that way. (NOTE: stoncy r bi4bi4bi and you WILL NOT be changing my mind.) if u extend the timeline to post-s3, robin might be able to help him w this LOL, i've read a really good fic or two where that's the case

on the other side, i feel like jonathan would have an easier time accepting his feeling, especially now that steve is making an effort to make friends with him. not to digress about the byers brothers but i'm gonna. when it comes to accepting his bisexuality jonathan doesn't have nearly as much internalized homophobia to deal with as will does regarding being gay. will has really internalized all of the things lonnie/the bullies have said about him, whereas jonathan is openly defiant of them. but in true byers fashion, he's not gonna make a move about it.

honestly i'm inclined to say that nancy, the girlboss that she is, (perhaps along with robin, again, if the timeline goes later) is the one to witness stonathan making goo-goo eyes at each other and she's like. you know what. this Might Actually solve 90% of my problems. so SHE'S the one who prompts them into it. but to be completely honest all three of them are so completely dramatic about everything so i could even see it all coming down to robin and maybe argyle to force them to get their shit together 😆

this is honestly just one way that it could go down, i've read a lot of different iterations and i love them all.

[lassieposting]

Might be a bit sick but in retrospect, Skulduggery telling Omen he had “disagreements” with his father (or did he say this to Valkyrie? Don’t care not checking) is the most understated hilarious possible fucking way of describing “oh my dad fucking murdered my mother and turned half my siblings pure evil and we had to give him a kicking like the bomb gave hiroshima and chain him up in a magic coffin and jail him in an alternate dimension as an exchange prisoner with a tyrannical god-king because he was too powerful to even consider killing”

Like lmao. “Disagreements” give me a break

—

In his defence, this is one of the few times where Skug is actually incredibly diplomatic. There’s a few reasons for this:

1. The obvious one: Omen is a kid. More than that, Omen is a lame kid, whose entire life experience at that point is Being Fat, Being Lame, and Sitting In Maths Class. He would have no point of reference for how to react to something as viscerally horrifying as my father murdered my mother. That would be a wildly age-inappropriate story for Skug to tell him - so much so that even Skug knows it. 

2. The other obvious one: all the Abrogate bullshit would be a very painful, very personal, very old wound for Skug. No way in hell would he want to open it for the benefit of this boy he barely knows. Yes, he’s prone to dropping inappropriate stories out of nowhere, but most of the time it’s because they’re either relevant to what’s happening around them, or he doesn’t realise they’re inappropriate, because he’s messed up, and his upbringing was messed up, and his concept of what’s normal is decidedly skewed as a result. 

And 3. The one I think actually occurred to him at the time: Omen is a child with an abusive home and parents who have a hardcore golden child/scapegoat dynamic. Omen is a child who has spent his entire life being overshadowed by and negatively compared to whatshisface, the brother. And in this moment, Omen is a child who is - tentatively - reaching out to someone he sees as a Safe Adult. He’s testing the water to see how Skug reacts to a relatively minor disclosure, because he - Omen - isn’t sure whether he really is just disappointing and useless, or whether he’s justified in feeling neglected and badly treated. 

Skug also came from an abusive home, was also the family scapegoat, and at some point probably dropped the same kind of hints to Ghastly’s parents. He would know how important it is that he react correctly, because it would be so easy at this point to make Omen feel like he can’t open up to anyone about his home life again. 

And “Yeah, well, my father murdered my mother, we’ve all got problems,” would be a spectacular way to make sure he never brings up his family issues again. It would be overshadowing his pain, putting him in the same position he’s been pushed into by his parents all his life. It would be saying your suffering doesn’t matter because I had it worse. 

And Skug is a lot of bad things, but he’s not deliberately cruel to people who don’t deserve it. He’s kind to Peg Muldoon, he’s kind to Scaramouche van Dreg, he’s kind to Scapegrace - all people who could have reasonably been handled with violence or cruelty. So he’s absolutely not going to choose nastiness with this boy. 

He says: I liked my mother. I think I might have even loved my mother. I had disagreements with my father. In the same conversation, he tells Omen that parents should love their children, and that it’s not Omen’s fault that his don’t. 

That’s. A very carefully-worded way of putting it. He’s chosen words that will seem, to Omen, to mimic his own situation. He’s saying I understand what you’re trying to tell me. He’s saying I see how they treat you and I don’t approve. He’s validating what Omen has been through as the scapegoat child, and telling him it’s not okay. He’s giving Omen an ally - an adult who sees the Darkly parents’ behaviour, isn’t okay with it, and isn’t afraid of them. Basically, he’s trying to give Omen the kind of support that Ghastly’s parents probably once gave him when he was in Omen’s position. 

And for that, Omen doesn’t need to know how much worse Skug had it. He just needs to know that a) Skug survived it, and b) someone he has a lot of respect for has confirmed that the way his parents treat him is Not Okay. It’s really quite a startling amount of tact and empathy for someone who is so, so damaged, and this is probably the closest we get to seeing how he likely behaved with his own child. 

(It is a hilarious understatement, though. Good job, buddy.)

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

About Meghan not being sporty vs Kate being sporty. 

I was very surprised to find that Meghan isn’t sporty at all considering she attended private school. 

In the UK, private schools practically force their their pupils to participate in sporting activities which means that Kate was always going to have some level of sporting skills or interest and the fact that she turned out to be so good at sports AND has an interest in it is a bonus.

Ditto interest in Art, Music and a whole host of activities that are not available to state educated pupils.

I suppose I don’t understand the American private system or the entire education system because in UK you can always tell someone who is privately educated because they’ll have rudimentary knowledge and or skill at all these things that are treated as exceptional in Kate. 

Our state schools are hit and miss. The good ones try to ape private school education and the bad ones are just holding cells for children who will more than likely be failed by the school and spit them out uneducated in anything. 

That said, when I first heard that Meghan was dating Harold, and learnt that she was friends with establishment people in Canada, I assumed that she’d acquired these skills because why would a person go to such great lengths to enter a world very different from yourself, and remain determinedly ignorant about it especially the ways that would make you comfortable in that world. 

I honestly thought her private school education would be a great help in helping her assimilate into that world. 

*******

So how education generally works here in the US is that we have core classes in math, history/social studies, English/literature, and science. The rest is all elective - art, drama, music, choir, band, computer class, physical education*, foreign languages. The number of electives vary per age/school year. They also depend on what your state/school district’s curriculum requirements are.

Most schools will have some kind of mandatory elective, usually PE and a foreign langauge. Others might require more, others less. 

This is the same curriculum between state/public schools, private schools, and homeschooling. Usually the difference between the type of schooling is in what electives are on offer or the material that’s within each subject or how much itme is spent on each subject. For instance, a religious private school (such as Immaculate Heart, which Meghan attended) might require a class on religion or have a daily chapel. And in my school district, my school schedule was seven classes on an A/B schedule but my cousins in another state had school schedules of 8 class periods every day.

Now PE. A few things about PE that might surprise non-Americans:

PE does not focus on one single sport or physical activity. Its primary focus is to teach physical fitness to children with a goal of helping them find a recreational activity that they like.

PE is also not just PE. For many schools, it’s where we get instruction on driver’s ed and health and nutrition. In my school district, PE was also where we were taught “family life” (aka sex ed and puberty. Yes, it was as weird as you think.)

Depending on your state or district requirements, PE can become an optional elective. In my school district, PE was mandatory through tenth grade/age 15. For eleventh and twelfth grades (ages 16-17), it was optional.

Up until about 2010ish, PE was based on military fitness requirements. There was a presidential mandate, called the Presidential Fitness Test, that basically groomed schoolchildren to perform to military fitness standards so we could be recruited for the military. 

Now most schools do have sports programs and sports teams, but they’re extracurriculars, and predominantly after-school. It’s not mandatory and school sports typically begin around seventh grade/age 12. Until then, most kids are playing sports in recreation or youth leagues, which has caused school teams to be “professional”-like in that the only way to make it onto the school team is to have several years’ experience in rec league. If you’re new to the sport, just playing to have fun, or playing to learn it, you’re not going to make the team. That’s what rec league is for.

Which sounds different from how you’ve described what sports/athletics are like in the UK. It sounds like your schools not only give time for students to learn and practice sports, they also make some kind of specific athletics mandatory. Of course it makes sense that Kate would have some level of sport skill. 

Whereas here in the US, we have a more generalized approach to education, including athletics and fitness. So to me, it makes perfect sense for Meghan to not have any athletic ability or any interest/skill in sport - she did the basic PE that a lot of us did and filled up her extracurriculars with theater. It’s pretty normal for us.

(Like I played softball, but I wasn’t good enough to be on the school team so after aging out of the rec league at age 14, I did band, a book club, and peer tutoring for extracurriculars.)

[ridiasfangirlings]

Due to being immortal and isolating himself for a long, long time, Shiro hasn't really bothered to celebrate his birthday. Kuroh, Neko, and Hieda decided that they should do so this time. Shiro's other students wanted in on it too cause they care about their teacher very much.

Aw, this would be sweet. I could definitely see Shiro not bothering to celebrate his birthday, like he spent so many years alone in his airship that he just stopped counting birthdays or even thinking about them all together. One day one of his students asks how old he is anyway and Shiro makes a joke about never asking adults their age. Later when he’s back at the apartment Shiro mentions this exchange to Kuroh and Neko and admits that he’s not actually sure how old he is, trying to math it out like wait my birthday is June 1st on…and he can’t even entirely remember the year. Kuroh wonders how Shiro could forget that and Shiro just shrugs, he never celebrated birthdays after becoming a King so it’s easy to forget. 

Later after Shiro’s gone to class Kuroh finds Neko digging around in the closets, looking for supplies left over from the school festival. Kuroh asks what she’s doing and Neko says she needs things for a party because isn’t it almost June 1st. Kuroh is confused for a moment and then he remembers that conversation with Shiro and asks if Neko wants to give Shiro a party, Neko nods and says it’s fun to celebrate birthdays and so they should celebrate with Shiro. Kuroh considers this and says that’s an excellent idea, imagine him immediately going into party planner mode like he’s got a notebook and he’s writing down that we need streamers and ingredients for a cake and presents while Neko stews because planning is boring, let’s just throw glitter everywhere and have a fun party. Kuroh is trying to impress upon her the importance of proper planning when Hieda stops by and asks what’s going on.

Kuroh explains that they want to throw Shiro a party and of course this quickly gets out to the rest of the students, imagine Kukuri joining Kuroh on the unofficial party planning committee and now they’re suddenly having secret meetings in a lecture hall with a bunch of the other students plotting out a giant surprise party. Shiro is vaguely aware that something is definitely up, because Kuroh and Neko probably can’t keep secrets to save their lives (Kuroh is too honest and Neko has a tendency to just blurt things out when she’s excited) but he figures he’ll find out soon enough. I imagine Shiro keeps assuming that maybe some of the students roped the two of them into something or it’s going to be some sort of prank, the idea that they’re planning to throw him a birthday party never crosses his mind.

Finally it’s Shiro’s birthday and he heads to his first class, when he steps into the classroom suddenly there’s confetti thrown in his face and Neko yelling happy birthday. Kuroh scolds her that this was supposed to be a surprise, we were all supposed to jump out at the same time and Neko says Kuroh was too slow. She clings to Shiro as she’s like come on look at the decorations and we made a cake and there are crackers, very excited to show him his birthday party. Shiro is just totally caught off guard as all his students come over to wish him a happy birthday, sitting down in front of his cake as Kuroh properly ties a party hat onto his head. Kuroh admits that they didn’t know how many candles to put on so he just put one, to symbolize Shiro’s new life. Neko asks if Shiro liked the party and was he surprised, Shiro laughs finally and says he was definitely surprised. He looks around at everyone, his students and his clansmen, all the people who care about him and Shiro isn’t even sure if he wants to blow out the candle since it seems his wishes have already come true.

[mr2swap]

The great shift: parenting and streaming

Thanks to @thegreatstoryteller

-Dad, what are you doing in my office? I've told you a hundred times that I don't like you coming in here when I'm working, now you better get out of here and finish your math homework before I finish streaming or there will be no dessert for dinner- The camera it was on and thousands of people were looking at that hot body that spent 3 hours a day in the gym, the comments were piling up by the hundreds, most of them were just sexual advances or paid requests for him to flex his fantastic arms in front of the camera, most of them of his audience were boys his age… Thomas is now 14 years old and entering his teens, although perhaps “fatherhood” would be more appropriate for his new 34-year-old body. His voice was thick and firm, I knew that tone of voice, he had been losing a couple of games, and he was angry, I turned around and trying to be less noisy than a mouse I closed the door before leaving, I immediately heard him lock the door so that I would not interrupt him.

2 years ago this place used to be my office, and that mature hairy body used to be mine, but my son Thomas and I were affected by the great shift. “Luckily” we ended up trapped in each other's bodies on a Saturday. One moment I'm in my office finishing my accounting report and a blink later I'm on our living room couch watching cartoons. I didn't know what was happening, all I knew was that now I was trapped in the body of my 14-year-old son forever, I lost my entire life in a second, plus half my size, my muscles and all of my authority.

We survived on leftover food in the cupboard. I taught him how to cook, how to shave, and how to exercise his new body. I even tried to teach him how to do my job, but my son was never the brightest in the class. Maybe it was muscle memory or some weird sci-fi phenomenon, but before long he learned my routine at the gym and learned to enjoy his newfound status as man of the house. Obviously, I was fired from my job as Head of the accounting office of my company, and the government gave my son a huge compensation check. The money might not be much, but it would last us long enough for my son to get a job. Suitable employment for a child in the body of an adult, much stronger and taller than the rest of the men. Or that was the plan, as soon as the first check arrived in the mail, my son took my car and went straight to the mall, so he could buy a new computer, microphones and 3 cameras so everyone could enjoy every inch of his perfect muscles live. . He did all this without my knowledge, so when he got his first payout from his followers he rubbed all the money in my face, which was about to turn into a field of puss and pimples thanks to all the hormones in my little teenage body. . In a short time he became popular and that face that I used to look at every day in the mirror was now on Twitch and YouTube, He became so confident and arrogant thanks to his popularity, his maturity and that huge penis that he now had between his hairy thighs.

It's…Hard to admit, but he's doing a better job than I am with my life, he's only been in my body for 2 years and he's so popular that every time he picks me up from school, all his old friends line up for him. being able to take a picture with him while I wait in the back of Nick's car… oh right I haven't talked about Nick. Is he… my stepfather? It's weird putting a label on your son's boyfriend after the great shift, he and Thomas have been dating for some time now, he spends weekends at our house, even sleeps with Thomas in my old bed. It doesn't bother me that they are together, but… they could be less noisy in bed, I have a math exam tomorrow and I need to sleep.

If you liked my story take a look at my patreon, I have a lot of stories on my patreon.