#Since the internship program is optional

[raynewolferune]

Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt 2.1

Note: The writing bug bit me while wading through the comments and replies so you guys get more! 😁 Special thanks to @the-scarecrow-of-aus & @starlightcat04 for helping spark this continuation!

Also, so you're not confused, this part is from Kon's POV and backtracks to before the Bane incident to explain how Kon started going undercover in Arkham. Pt 2.2 has the Bane incident from Kon's POV.

~*~*~

When Kon got the call from Tim asking if he'd be willing to do a favor for him, he hadn't expected it to be an undercover assignment in the infamous Arkham Asylum itself.

"You want me to do what?" He asked staring at Tim in disbelief once he reached the Nest to debrief.

"Go undercover as a new guard in Arkham." Tim repeated with a deadpan expression looking over his shoulder at Kon from his computer chair. Holy fuck, his eyebags were bad. 

"Have you slept in the past week, Tim?" Kon asked, taking in his best friend's appearance.

Tim frowned at the question. 

"I don't see how that's relevant but yes." He answered, heartbeat unchanging. Which didn't really mean anything since it was Tim but Kon decided he'd believe him. 

For now. 

Kon sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, I'll do it." He said. "Can you tell me why we need someone undercover at least?" 

Tim eyes widened, startled by the question like he was surprised Kon didn't know yet even though Tim hadn't told him yet. Okay, deep breaths, calm down, Tim clearly hasn't slept in at least two days. Kon coached himself as his temper flared up at the evidence that Tim wasn't taking care of himself again. All the Supers agreed: sometimes you just wish you could beat some sense into the Bats and make them take care of themselves like normal human beings.

"Ah. Right." Tim said, turning back to the computer and pulling up some files as he explained. "Two thing have occured within roughly fifteen days of each other that together are rather suspicious. First, Dr. Thomas Rylie, Jonathan Crane's undergraduate roommate and classmate throughout undergrad and grad school, was hired to work as one of the new in house psychiatrists at Arkham Asylum. They also got their doctorates from the same school during the same time frame and both focused on the impact fear has on the brain. Dr. Rylie's focus was on fear conditioning and Dr. Crane's focus was on fear responses." Well, that sounds suspicious. 

"Second, Gotham University lost their minds and began an undergraduate and graduate internship program partnering with Arkham Asylum." 

Kon went cold. They did what?

Pictures of the Asylum, University, and three people -presumably Scarecrow, Dr. Rylie, and a young woman- filled the computer screen now. 

"The internship program has only one applicant so far and she'd already started working at the Arkham. Her name is Jasmine Fenton and her background is...sparse, to say the least." Tim turned in his chair to face Kon.

"I'm too recognizable in Gotham and among the rogues to successfully go undercover in Arkham so I've set you up with an apartment and ID as 'Kyle Jennings.' You're scheduled to start work at Arkham as a new guard tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Kon said with a nod. "What do you need confirmed? What are the primary objectives?" He prodded Tim again since his friend's sleep deprived brain seemed to think that was enough information for debriefing. It wasn't. Definitely not. A lot was implied but it wouldn't be the first time Tim had completely different intentions than what Kon had understood from his briefing. Sleep deprived Tim frequently assumed others could read his mind or something. Sleep deprived Tim was wrong.

"We need to determine if Dr. Rylie is here working for Scarecrow as part of some new scheme. We need to determine if Jasmine Fenton is complicit. We need to know if Gotham U is also in on it. And we need to find out what exactly Scarecrow is the planning." Tim stated automatically as he ticked each one off on his fingers.

"Got it. Guess I'll head over to my new apartment then and start prepping for tomorrow." Kon said, heading towards the exit. Tim hummed in agreement waving a hand in his direction as he left. That dumbass was probably already absorbed in the next case. Kon sighed, hopefully Tim would at least pass out sometime later tonight.

~*~*~

Kon's first day at Arkham wasn't anything special. He didn't see Jasmine, Dr. Rylie, or Scarecrow. He didn't see any rogues or doctors at all. It was just a really Gotham kind of orientation. 

"This is where we keep a cache of stun grenades, long-range scope rifles, tranquilizer rounds, and rubber bullets." His new supervisor and guide through orientation, Alex Fhizer, said as he showed Kon how to access, inventory, lock, and re-conceal the cache. "Everytime you pass by a cache on patrol, you will check the inventory again and sign off on it with the date and time. If anything is different from the previous inventory entry, you will immediately radio the tower and the island will be put on lockdown." Greyish Hazel eyes peered out of a weathered face staring Kon down. "You will never neglect to inventory a cache while on patrol. You will never neglect to report an inventory discrepancy. The first time you do you will be fired immediately and you can count yourself damn lucky if that's all that happens to you." 

Fhizer was intense, man.

"Yes, Sir." Kon answered. Fhizer's hard look lasted another long moment before the older man gave a firm nod and continued showing Kon the ropes.

~*~*~

The second day was no where near as chill as the first. Hell, his brain was already starting to warp, there hadn't been anything chill about that orientation.

Kon started his second day by boarding the Arkham transport bus with the rest of the staff and early morning visitors to the island. That was where he saw Jasmine Fenton in the flesh for the first time. 

She has got to be part Amazonian, was his first thought upon seeing her. She was around 6ft tall with a thick mane of red hair tightly braided reaching all the way down to her waist. Jasmine was wearing teal stud earrings, a silver bangle type bracelet on her left wrist, a white blouse, black slacks, and black flats. She carried a small, clear purse that only held a small notepad, pen, house key, chapstick, and a thin teal wallet that presumably contained her IDs, debit cards, and a small amount of cash. Damn, she was tall.

Kon's concentration was broken by the quiet sound of metal crunching slightly beneath his fingers. He immediately loosened his grip on the hand rail, checking for damage with a wince. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he saw the damage was almost entirely unnoticeable to the naked eye. He'd have to mind his strength more closely. Kon was too used to the farm and facilities that were all reinforced to handle casual use from people with super strength. 

Tim's notes indicated Arkham wasn't reinforced for super strength anywhere. Not even along the outer walls. The facility had opted to use suppression collars on their meta inmates instead since they were cheaper and easier to repair and replace according to the official reports. However, Tim's notes had also mentioned that Arkham had reinforced the outer walls to account for super strength at one point. They'd poured nearly every dime the facility could spare into the project for months until the Joker himself had taken it personally. The madman had absolutely obliterated the reinforced outer walls until no part of them remained standing. Given Joker had destroyed the walls without having any meta powers at all and his history of viciously attacking -damn near mauling- anyone that tried to put him in a straight jacket, Kon didn't really blame Arkham for stopping while they were ahead.

Kon looked up as the bus jolted to a stop. The other passengers filing off around him. He watched as Jasmine Fenton was met by Dr. Rylie in front of the bus as he waited to disembark. 

"Ms. Jasmine!" Dr. Rylie greeted her enthusiastically with a broad open grin and beaming eyes. He reached towards her with both arms, hands open and she reached back. Their right hands clasped as their left hands landed on the other's upper arms as the two greeted one another openly. Kon wasn't very familiar with intern-mentor relationships nor what would be considered normal or professional for them, but it looked like a rather affectionate greeting for them having been strangers two weeks ago. That was strange, wasn't it? Was Tim right to be worried about them?

"Ms. Jasmine is the first and only applicant for Dr. Rylie, Director Keener, and Dean Byle's hairbrained idea to hire more doctors for this place." One of the older guards that had been standing just behind him on the bus explained having apparently noticed Kon watching the pair.

"They just seemed rather affectionate for Gotham." Kon shrugged dismissively as he turned to look over his shoulder at his new colleague. The shorter man laughed.

"A bit, yeah." He agreed. "I think Dr. Rylie is just desperate for this program to work out." He continued as they finally managed to get off the bus. Dr. Rylie and Ms. Fenton were gone now. "Pretty much everyone's been treating her like a princess." 

"That doesn't seem fair to everyone else." Kon commented, dropping back a bit to let the older man lead the way to the guards room for morning debriefing and to get their assignments. He'd already memorized the layouts but 'Kyle Jennings' shouldn't have yet.

"Who cares about fair as long as it works?" The guard answered. "If treating her like a princess scores more interns for the program in the long run, and if one intern every year ends up interested in sticking around, I'll be happy to cater to every single one of them." He confessed, stopping in the middle of the hall to turn and face Kon directly. Kon glimpsed the name Ryans as the silver name badge flashed the briefly reflecting the overhead lights. "You non-gothamites just don't get it. We're desperate for whatever help we can get." 

"That's why I applied here." Kon lied. "Going to school across the bay, I heard a lot about what went down over here while I was in college. I want to help." 

Ryans gave a short solemn nod then turned and led the rest of the way to the break room. 

~*~*~

Day four undercover was when Kon officially met Jasmine Fenton. 

Everything had been going well so far with his undercover assignment. He'd settled in to the role of Kyle Jennings, been getting along well with his new coworkers including Ryans and Fhizer, and hadn't yet managed to screw up inventorying the caches during the outer patrol loops. That being said, Kon was having other issues.

The worst part of being an unstable Kryptonian clone was that his strength tended to fluctuate. It normally wasn't much of an issue when he was surrounded by reinforced everything in his daily life but here at Arkham it was becoming a problem. Case in point, Kon thought to himself with an exhausted groan as his freshly made coffee mug shattered in his hand.

"Oh come on." He sighed snatching a handful of paper towels from the counter and bending to wipe up the coffee and ceramic shards on the floor. At least he was the only one in the room when it shattered. The door clicked softly behind him and Kon jumped twisting to look. 

Jasmine Fenton stood behind him having just closed the door to the break room after entering.

"What happened here?" She asked, sounding bewildered with slightly wide eyes as she took in the mess on the floor. Thank God. She didn't see it.

"Guess I was a bit more tired than I thought." He said with a forced laugh in order to hide his nerves. "Slipped right through my fingers."

She nodded, accepting his words at face value. 

"I've done that more than a few times close to finals." She admitted. "You guys have 10 hour shifts, right? You must be exhausted. When's your next day off?"

"The day after tomorrow." Kon said. "This is day 3 for me since orientation doesn't count."

"You get 2 days off followed by an on-call day, right?" She asked.

"Right," Kon agreed. "AKA 2 days of freedom and a day chained to the Bowery." He joked.

"Absolutely terrible, they may as well put an ankle monitor on you." She cracked back grinning. Kon snickered. The door opened again.

"I see you found another non-gothamite here." Dr. Rylie said striding into the break room with a wide grin.

"Sounds like that makes three of us." Kon agreed. Outside of Joker, he had never seen a gothamite grin that wide in his life.

"Dr. Thomas Rylie, a pleasure to meet you." Dr. Rylie introduced himself holding out his hand to shake. Kon shook his hand as gently as possible, mindful his strength was on the fritz.

"Kyle Jennings, nice to meet you. I just started as a guard earlier this week." He said then held his hand out to shake Jasmine's.

"Jasmine Fenton, I'm an intern therapist. This is my second week here." She greeted with a warm smile shaking Kon's hand. She didn't say anything about being glad to meet him, Kon noted. It wasn't exactly strange behavior but something made him take note of it anyway. Like by not saying it she was saying she hadn't decided whether meeting him was a good or bad thing yet. Dr. Rylie didn't seem to notice anything off with the interaction though as he went about making his own coffee. The three of them made idle small talk as they made their own coffees. Once his new cup was ready, Kon bid them both goodbye and went on his way. While they were his main objective, lingering too long this early into their aquantiantship would probably be strange.

He had several other small friendly interactions with both of them over the next few days. Taking the time for greetings, small talk, and sharing small bits of casual background info from Kyle Jennings's past to encourage them both to open up to him. He also broke a clipboard, two more coffee cups, several pens, and a doorknob during that time as his strength continued to fluctuate. The doorknob had been particularly embarrassing. He had gone to open the door for Jasmine when he saw her with her arms full of files and somehow managed to twist it in such a way that the screws holding it in place sheered off and the knob came off in his hand. Collins, his partner for building patrol that day, burst out laughing hysterically as Kon stared at the doorknob in horror.

"No worries, man." Collins said, clapping Kon on the shoulder still snickering. "Someone else probably broke it and put it back so they wouldn't get scolded or something."

"Yeah," Kon said with a nervous laugh. "That must be what happened."

Jasmine's eyes flicked between the two of them then she grinned.

"And here I thought you just really hated that door." She teased Kon. He felt his face heat up as Collins laughed at him again.

"It is an ugly door." Collins agreed enthusiastically smirking.

"Terribly ugly. Hideous even," Jasmine said with a smile.

"Possibly even traumatizing to behold," Collins continued to smirk.

"You've got me. I have a deep rooted traumatic fear of metal taupe doors." Kon deadpanned ears burning. Jasmine snickered as Kon got the door open for her and they went their separate ways.

~*~*~

"What have you found so far?" Tim asked. Kon did not have the words to express how much he didn't want to be at the Nest at 3am on his first day off from undercover work. If it was anyone other than Tim he wouldn't have even answered the phone.

"Literally nothing," Kon said dryly. "I am still the newest of newbies at Arkham. I practically spent the whole week being babysat by senior guardsmen." He sighed, reminding himself that it wasn't Tim's fault that he was a little insomniac goblin and that Kon really did love his friend and would be sad if he hurt Tim's feelings. Eventually. When he woke up again in the morning. "I did start befriending them both though. It's slow going since we're in different areas but nearly being the only non-gothamites there seems to be helping me make some headway at least." 

There was one other non-gothamite on staff, a medical nurse named Sharon Earley. She was in her mid-thirties and the most sour and unpleasant person Kon had had the displeasure of meeting so far on Arkham's staff. Not that Kon could blame her for that. Not when she had several large ragged scars spanning from her chin and down both of her arms from when Zsazz had gotten hold of her alone after dark her second year at Arkham. It was a damn miracle she'd survived him. Kon didn't know how she managed it but he wouldn't try to find out either. Ryans had taken him aside right before he first met Nurse Earley and warned him not to stare or ask about any of it and then explained the bare basics of what happened to her after they'd left. 

Tim probably had a file with every detail of that night as well as information about Sharon Earley's life both before and after that night somewhere on his computer. The thought made Kon nauseous. 

"Good, good," Tim said absently as he updated the mission file on his computer. The keys clicked so rapidly that Kon again reconsidered whether or not his best friend had super speed. "Better to keep them from suspecting than to rush in anyway." 

"Exactly." 

Tim continued asking questions about every little detail he could think of concerning Dr. Rylie, Jasmine Fenton, and the rogues currently in Arkham.

"They don't let me near those guys yet. I'm too new." Kon said when Tim asked if Scarecrow looked to be plotting more than usual.

"They don't?" Tim sounded surprised, going so far as to stop typing so he could turn and stare at Kon. The clone was amused to note something about his statement had managed to wake Tim up enough to be visibly shocked instead blank-faced with exhaustion.

"Of course not," Kon answered trying to keep the amusement from his voice as much as possible. "As many times as your rogues have broken out they're leary of letting new hires near them in case they're goons in disguise." 

Tim sank back into his chair looking like Kon had uprooted his whole world by proving the Earth really was flat via actual science.

"That's impossible." Tim said sounding faint. "Everytime there's a mass breakout, we always hear that some of the guards helped them escape. How?..." He trailed off, eyes darting rapidly like he was tracking lines of an invisible conspiracy board in the air in front of him. Kon shrugged, uncomfortable with this new information.

"Scuttlebutt is that the people helping them escape are visitors. The guards get blamed because the goons visit wearing clothes similar to the guard uniform from a distance. All blue polo shirts and black pants look similar at a distance." Kon explained. "It also doesn't help that the guards can't really do much to stop the escape attempts since they only have stun grenades, tranquilizer darts, batons, low voltage tazers, and rubber bullets to fight back with. So as long as enough people are involved in the escape attempt at least some of them will make it out even if the guards manage to to tranquilize several of them." 

Tim still looked like Kon was blowing his mind. It was such a rare experience that Kon had to continue.

"Plus the tranquilizer darts and the rubber bullets have to be fired from different hardware." Kon told him. "Which sucks because you have to carry twice the amount of weight while chasing after the escapees which slows you down and it takes longer to swap between them."

There was something similar to mystified horror spreading across his friend's face now.

"Speaking if swapping between them, they have different ranges too." Kon continued gleefully. Half because it was fun wrecking Tim's worldview and half to actually impart the information. "Batons are short-range. Tranquilializer darts and stun grenades are mid-range. Rubber bullet riffles are long-range."

"If that's all it is, WE can fund then better gear to control the inmates." Tim interrupted turning back to the computer and swiftly typing out a list of things to send Arkham. Kon shook his head.

"That won't work." He disagreed gently. "They aren't failing because of the gear itself."

Tim turned back around to face him, confused. This was not going to be a fun conversation, Kon swallowed hard and forced himself to continue.

"The problem is that if you fire the rubber bullet riffles from mid or short range you could seriously injury or even kill the patient. If they get past mid-range, you'll miss them completely using tranquilizer darts or stun grenades. If you try to use either of those at short-range it'll be bad for you whether it's because they'll get hold of you before the tranquilizer knocks them out or because you'll stun yourself too."

Comprehension and trepidation began to dawn on Tim's face. He deflated in his chair, sinking lower and lower as he stared off into nowhere.

"You also can't hit them with more than one tranquilizer dart in a four hour window because you could accidently kill them that way. That also means even though you have a baton, you typically can't do enough damage to them to keept them from escaping because that might potentially kill them." Kon said completely solemn now as he relayed the information. "Because regardless of the reputation Arkham has or what the patients have done, it is still a hospital and they are still patients." 

Tim was staring directly at Kon now. Mouth open, face slack, eyes wide with a kind of numbed shock. Kon held his gaze.

"Yeah," Kon said after a moment. "Yeah, that's how I reacted too." He looked down, picking at his nails for a moment before forcing himself to stop and meet Tim's gaze again. "Phizer, my new 'boss', made sure to drill that into my head during orientation. 'Arkham's guards exist first and foremost to protect the patients. Arkham isn't supposed to be a prison. It's a medical facility. The patients are confined to the premises because their affliction has made them dangerous and they have to stay so that we can keep them and others safe from further harm. We are here to keep the patients and staff from hurting each other, themselves, or being hurt by people outside of Arkham's walls.' Not gonna lie, man." Kon said quirking a bitter grin as his did. "Hearing that kind of fucked me up a bit."

Tim sucked in a huge heaving breath then slowly let it out before he responded.

"I can't say I ever thought about it like that." He admitted in a soft strained voice. "Can't say I ever wanted to either." There was a bitter tinge to his words.

"Yeah, neither did I." Kon answered, shoulders slumping a bit. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me? I kind of want to head back and sleep a bit."

Tim shook his head slowly.

"No, I think we're good at the moment." He said looking twice as exhausted and drained now as he did when Kon first got there. Kon nodded.

"Good night then. I'll see you later, man." He said, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning against and heading for the door.

"Be safe, Kon." Tim answered softly turning back to his computer.

[florida3exclamationpoints]

.

[coffeeliqueurs]

i want to do a little piece eventually in celebration for finally getting into the field of work I've been trying to but i have so many other things i want to draw...

[oflgtfol]

shaking my fucking cage my grad school app is due friday and the only thing preventing me from submitting it is that everyone i ask for a letter of rec is taking their sweet fucking time

[thedensworld]

I Can Fight | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear revealing clothes. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't mind.

Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰

It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.

Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.

"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.

As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?

Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.

As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.

"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.

"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.

Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.

Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."

You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."

"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.

You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."

Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."

A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.

Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.

"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.

Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.

As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.

"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.

You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."

Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."

A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"

Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."

Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.

"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.

A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.

He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.

His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.

***

You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.

As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.

"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."

Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.

As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.

"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.

A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.

You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.

"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.

You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.

Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.

[slowdrawl]

| Material Interest | Pairing: Harry Castillo x F!Reader | 7.5K words | {1/?} ✨INITIATION✨

Summary: You take an internship at Legacy Capital, where everyone thinks you’re a nepo baby. Harry Castillo. Your mother’s boss. The CEO, shouldn’t be paying you any attention. He wasn’t supposed to touch you. You weren’t supposed to like it. “When he sets his mind on something…on someone. He won’t quit until it’s his.”

this fic is going to go absolutely crazy. I'm so damn excited about it! |WARNINGS| slowburn/angst/eventual smut/obsession/power dynamics/age gap/alcohol/grief/corporate rot/pov swaps/inner voice spirals (duh)/sd/sb themes/

The worst part about being an intern isn’t all the men who look at you like you don’t exist. It’s the ones who look at you like you’re the only person who does. You worked your ass off in business school to get here. Graduated with a 3.96 in your finance program at Berkeley, for God’s sake.

You earned this. But that doesn’t matter. Does it?

Because your mother is the CEO’s assistant. And your father was one of the firm’s original founders. A name they quietly erased from the history books.

Your entire résumé might as well be blank.

Doesn’t matter how many nights you didn’t sleep. How many times you studied until your eyes burned. Doesn’t matter that you applied under your mother’s maiden name. Anyone who’s been here long enough remembers exactly who you are. You thought about just saying no. Thought about applying to a different firm. Hell. Maybe even leaving Manhattan altogether.

But walking away from an opportunity at one of the most prestigious private equity firms in the state? That would’ve been suicidal. Career-wise, anyway.

They call it a fortress for a reason.

And Harry Castillo? He inherited the throne.

// The birds weren’t even singing by the time you woke up. Thirty minutes before your alarm was supposed to go off. 

First day nerves, you guess.

There’s been a pit in your stomach ever since the offer letter came in. Since your mom looked at you with that face and asked if you were really sure. As if anyone could turn down Legacy. You didn’t even have a choice. You rub the sleep from your eyes as the shower heats up, grabbing your toothbrush on the way into the stall. You let the water bead down your back and breathe deeply for a while; the warmth soothes your muscles, but it doesn’t do much to erase the tension in your brain. When you get out, your fingers are pruned, and you shiver at the sharp contrast of cool air hitting your wet skin. At least it offers a little relief. Fresh and clean, you drag yourself to the closet and sift through your limited options. Half of the tags are still attached. Three-quarters of them were paid for with money you don’t have. A credit card that you couldn’t even dream of paying off right now. 

You look at your reflection in the mirror and tell yourself you need to make sure you look the part.

Not that anyone in that glass palace would even care. They’ll take one glance and clock the difference immediately. You’re not like them. Not one bit. Even if your father's name used to be on the side of the building. 

He died before Legacy was even that. Before the name, before the fortune. Before the reputation. Your father, with the help of Henry and Harry Castillo, founded Castle and Co. a year before you were born. It didn’t start off with glass walls and coffee makers more expensive than your first car. No. It started as an idea between friends at a kitchen table. Eventually, that table would turn into a boardroom in an office smaller than this apartment. But they were eager, and they were smart; and between the three of them, they had just the right connections. The firm grew faster than any of them could have imagined.  

Your mother was hired at the beginning of year two. She was twenty-seven, without the slightest clue how to work admin, no knowledge of the finance world. She had been a hairdresser up until that point. Working at a Cost Cutters, just so they could make ends meet. But it wasn’t long before profits began to roll in, allowing your father to take enough of a draw every month to keep the bills paid without her needing to continue busting her ass for minimum wage plus tips. She worked reception, doing all the admin, acted as a personal assistant to the whole team, and then some. She worked endlessly through her pregnancy to prove to the men there that she deserved a place. 

And now here you are. Twenty-four years later. About to do the same thing.

Like mother, like daughter, you suppose. You take the first dress off its hanger, laying it out on the bed. Then the second. Then the third. And by the time the sun is bleeding through the blinds, your bed looks like a Macy’s clearance rack. Maybe something dark…Edgy, you don’t want to be too soft.Eventually, you settle on a grey sheath dress, throwing a matching blazer over top before strapping on your only appropriate pair of heels. They might be cheap by their standards, but hopefully nobody notices. They will. You do your makeup by muscle memory, a small black wing, still sharp enough to cut. The rest of your face practically bare, nothing too much, nothing too little.

Clean. Corporate. Pretty.The hallway is still dark when you head for the kitchen, your mom won’t even be awake for another half hour. ‘Interns are always expected to be early.’ Her words play over in your head as you press down the toaster lever. You’re out of margarine. Fuck my life. You grab your keys and bag, shrug on a coat that you pray looks expensive enough to pass, and head for the door, scarfing the toast down dry. The elevator groans when it starts moving. You stare at the number ticking by, your heart knocking against your ribs. The streets are surprisingly empty for a Monday in New York. It’s too early for traffic, apparently. It’s not too early for nerves, however. The whole drive is spent replaying your mom’s words. ‘Are you sure?’You weren’t. You still aren’t. Your fingernails are nearly folding over themselves from digging into the steering wheel as you pull into the parking garage beneath the building. Legacy Capital looms above. Glass and cold steel, harsh angles and hard attitudes. The fortress. Before you get out of the car, you flip your visor down and check your makeup in the mirror.

‘You have to look the part.’

A quick touch-up on the edges of your lip-liner, a bit of gloss. You re-curl your lashes and—fuck. The mascara wand slips out of your grip, smudging black across your thumb and onto the cuff of your blazer. Don’t panic!

You dab at it with a fast food napkin, with saliva, with anything you can find. It fades, mostly. You tell yourself it’s fine. The air in the lobby smells like freshly brewed coffee and money. People here move fast. They look fast, dress fast, all sleek lines and glinting watches. The heels you picked out click against the concrete in a rhythm that feels too loud for 7 AM. You hate how that makes you feel so small. A receptionist gives you a well-practiced smile while she hands you a security badge. 

You politely introduce yourself to the woman, Sherry, whom you learned has been here for 7 years. She gives wine aunt vibes. “I think you’re set to meet up with Fawn upstairs on the thirteenth floor. Have you met her? “No, I haven’t met anyone here,” you say nervously, “could you tell me what she looks like?”

She looks back at you and smiles again, and it reaches her eyes this time. “Short, blonde, you’ll know when you see her.” She gives you a wink. “Elevators are just to your left, good luck, darlin’” You thank her, with a voice tighter than you’d like. The badge feels like it weighs ten pounds on your chest. This elevator does not smell like sweat. It smells like citrus and cologne. It’s perfectly polished steel, you can see yourself in the door. Upstairs, the office is colder. Quieter. Floor-to-ceiling windows cast sterile, white sunlight through the clouds. Glass-walled conference rooms stand like cages, or maybe fishbowls. There is a tension on the floor that you can feel in your bones, dull in your molars. You’re looking for Fawn when you feel it. Before you even see him. Harry Castillo. He moves like a man used to being watched. Not loud. Not showy. Just…impossible to ignore. God. He even walks rich. His eyes meet yours. Your heart jumps to your throat. One look and he’s already made you nervous, scared. Intrigued. You’ve met Mr. Castillo a handful of times, maybe four or five. But it’s been many, many years. You were still a freshman in college the last time you saw him. When you were young, he’d come by when he was in California for work, he would come to your home and have dinner, drink wine, and talk with your mom about your father. He would ask you about classes, simple, easy. Conversation that you never thought twice about. He sent Christmas cards and gifts until you were a teenager. He and your dad had been close before his death, best friends even. Or so that’s what you were told. You’ve always figured that part of him felt guilty about your mom leaving the firm, about selling her shares, and taking you west. She had no idea that she was giving up millions of dollars by selling so soon. Nobody could have ever predicted just how much of a legacy Castle & Co. would become. Maybe that’s why he kept in touch. You don’t remember him being this handsome. Everyone else in the office looks like they’re drowning in starch and being strangled by their ties. 

Not him.

Dark brown suit, relaxed fit but tailored perfectly to his body. He has a lighter knit shirt under the jacket that’s cut barely low enough to show the edges of his collar. No tie in sight. The color palette complements his complexion so well that it should be illegal. His hair is brushed back slightly, curls falling perfectly messy… like he’s been brushing his fingers through it just right. He’s the kind of put-together that makes the rest of the floor look like they’re trying too hard. “Distracted?” You twitch, startled when a low voice drags you out of the daydream. And when you look to your left, he’s close, so close.  You feel your face heat up. “No, of course not, Mr. Castillo.” You immediately straighten your posture, “Good morning.” “Good morning. First day?” he asks, holding eye contact. “It shows.” “Yes, sorry. I’m just looking for Fawn.” You take the opportunity to break eye contact, scanning the office. You can still feel his eyes on you. It’s making your palms sweat, your pulse is kicking in your throat.

You try to slow your breathing. It doesn’t help. Now all you can smell is him. Cedar, grapefruit. Heat. “Ah. I think she’s just finishing up with a phone call,” he says, “Her office is down the hall on your right.” His gaze flicks down, slowly. Appraising. Your skin prickles under it. He doesn’t have to do anything more than look. Then his eyes stop on your blazer. Before you have a chance to react, his hand lifts. He wraps his fingers lightly around your forearm and draws it closer to him. Your breath gets caught in your chest. You go completely still. His voice is quieter now, less amused. “What's this?” he asks, dragging his thumb over the barely there stain. The mascara, the stain you thought nobody would notice. Your stomach drops. Of course he noticed, of course. Of course, you already look like a mess. Your first day and you’re already wearing your fuck-up on your sleeve. Literally. “Oh. It’s just…mascara.” Your voice just barely makes it out. “I—I must have missed it.” You so desperately want to pull your arm back. You cannot. Not until he lets you. He looks back at your face, his brow ever so slightly furrowing. “Be careful,” he says, thumb making one last slow pass before he drops your arm back down to your side. “Nobody will miss a detail in this place.”

Your skin burns where he touched it. He holds your gaze for just a second longer. Then straightens. “Good luck today, it’s nice to see you here.” You nod, “Nice to see you as well, Mr. Castillo.” And with that, he’s gone. 

Glides his way across the room toward the elevator. You exhale. It’s too fast, too shaky. Your heart refuses to slow down. Why does he smell good? Why does he feel like that? Why are you shaking like an idiot? Girl. Get it together. You square your shoulders and smooth your sleeve like that could undo what just happened. You do another sweep of the room, spinning now, just looking for anyone blonde at this point. You don’t see her, but you do catch one more glimpse of him. Just as the elevator door starts to close. Adjusting his lapel, still staring at you, an unreadable expression etched into his face. You need to find Fawn. Now.

// He couldn’t be in the same room anymore. He’d seen enough. Too much. She wasn’t supposed to look like that. Wasn’t supposed to look at him like that. She was frozen, still in his mind as eighteen. Spitting image of her parents. Michael’s daughter. The quiet kid from dinners with Janey in California. Not this. Not a woman who would stop him cold in the middle of the damn floor. First day. Of course it was. Of course, she was nervous. He should have walked past her. Should have let Fawn handle the introductions. Shake her hand at some formal moment, say something forgettable, keep the distance where it belonged. Instead, he waited for her to come in. Instead, his feet carried him closer before his mind caught up. Instead, he’d touched her, looked too long. Felt the kick of her pulse. A metronome under his hand. His fingers flexed against his side. Careful. That one had been for him. Not her. Harry reached the door to his office. Rested a hand against the handle for a moment, collecting himself. Then stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. And exhaled the breath he’d been holding since he smelled her shampoo. // The glass walls are half-frosted, half clear. The light filters through in bands. The Legacy insignia is etched clear, towers and all; clean through the center in a perfect strip of glass you can’t help but glance through. It’s hard to make out, but through those letters, you see her. Fawn is standing with her arms braced on her desk, palms flat. She’s leaning over her phone with her head tilted slightly, mouth moving fast as she speaks. She looks sharp. Focused. Someone used to running at this pace. You shift your weight around, waiting for her to finish. Being sure not to fidget too much. Trying to ignore the way that your pulse is somehow still climbing. Focus. You need to stop thinking about how he looked at you. Fawn sees you peering into the office, and you watch as she hangs up the phone and waves you inside.

Closer up, she’s a bit softer, but in an almost… artificial way. She must be in her late thirties; it’s hard to tell. Her face is half expressionless from the filler and Botox in it. Her cheeks and lips are full and youthful, teeth sitting in her mouth like they were manicured just for her. “Hello! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says, rounding the desk to walk toward you. “I’m Fawn, Janey said you’d be starting. You look so much like her!” She reaches a hand out toward you, and you take it, giving it a firm shake, trying to fight back the cringe from the mention of your mother. “Thank you.” You fight the cringe that hits your spine. “I’m excited to learn.” “That’s what we like to hear.” She picks up a stack of paperwork from the desk and shuffles it into a black Legacy-branded folder, and holds it out to you. “Your onboarding packet. Intro materials, HR paperwork. Your Slack info. Most of it’s digital now, but they still like burning ink, just for us to have something to hand over.” You take it, gripping the edges. Something solid to hold onto. You’ll take it. “Have you been shown around yet? Met anyone?” “Just reception,” you say, lifting up the badge Sherry gave you earlier. “Oh, and Mr. Castillo.” Fawn grins, but it's brief. When you mention him, her eyes narrow a bit. Furrowing. Confused. “Harry—Mr. Castillo’s rarely down here this early, someone here must have…” She trails off, mouth tightening for just a moment. You can see her weighing her words. Then she shakes her head, clears her throat. “Well. Doesn’t matter.” But it does. You can feel it in the way she straightens out her shoulders, the way her voice goes a shade cooler. “Come on then. I’ll show you around,” she says, ushering you out the door. You trail behind her as she walks through the hallway, briefing you.

“You’ll spend most of your time here in Portfolio Ops,” she says, swiping a key card to get through to a separate corridor, “You’ll shadow me, pick up some project work, sit in on some internal sessions whenever possible.” It’s going to take some time to get used to this place, to really learn the lay of the land. It feels like being in a snow globe. You’re trying to focus on what she’s saying, trying to make a mental map of the place, but you’re already fighting overwhelm. She hits the down arrow on a different set of elevators than you came in on. She presses the lobby button once you’re inside. “A few other interns were hired alongside you. You’ll be spending a lot of time with them, so play nice. I know it’s competitive out here—” The door opens. A man in a suit that probably costs more than your rent steps inside, coffee in hand, looking annoyed. Fawn slides you down to the corner of the elevator and leans closer to you, dropping her voice a bit. “Just don’t feed into it, we keep notes. It’s always going to be in your best interest to rise above.” The door opens up to the main floor, you’re on the opposite side from when you got here this morning. Sherry lifts her head and gives you a slight smile as you pass her. You return it and keep moving. You struggle to keep up. Her heels click like an angry keyboard through the lobby. She’s so tiny, how do her legs move so fast in those shoes? “We run fast here. I don’t expect perfection.” Fawn stops suddenly, you almost walk into her while she turns to look at you, “I expect effort.” You nod. Tight. She continues on. “People will watch you…you especially.” She raises a brow, knowingly. You can feel your expression tighten. Yes, Fawn. I know that people think I’m a fuckin’ nepo baby. Story of my life. “Ignore it. Just work clean. Keep your head down.”

“And this is the cafe,” Fawn says, nodding her head toward the far side of the floor past reception. “Don’t expect privacy. Everyone passes through here eventually.” She’s calling it a cafe, but it feels a lot more like a stage. More glass walls, black marble, and steel. Nowhere to hide, the kind of place people go to caffeinate, heat up something fast, and get the hell out. Unless you’re into being watched by everyone who walks through… It’s tucked near the east windows, the espresso machine looks like it belongs in a Bond villain’s kitchen. There are a few low black tables and too few seats. It was designed to be functional, not comfortable. There's a long polished bar along the wall with high stools and a very intimidating-looking microwave. “This is where our interns usually eat,” she says, pointing to the higher corner table. You nod again, still trying to absorb it all. Before you can say anything, a woman approaches from the far side of the floor—dark hair pinned back slick, a crisp white blazer that contrasts beautifully against her skin. She has a tablet balanced in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. Fawn looks toward her, waves her down. “Perfect timing. This is Patel—she’s been with us a few weeks. She can help get you settled in, yeah?” She looks at her and nods her head as if she’s already accepting the offer for her. Navleen looks at you for a moment, then a smile tugs at her lips, maybe a bit forced. “Nice to meet you,” she says, reaching out. “I’m Navleen, you can call me Nav, or Patel, whichever.” You shake her hand. “Don’t worry, it’s a lot at first. You’ll catch up.” “Thanks.” Fawn checks her watch.

“I’m going to leave you two to it. I’ll see you back upstairs, first meeting is at ten.” She goes to turn toward the elevators but stops and looks back at Navleen, “Patel, there's a free desk next to yours. Go get her settled in.” And just like that, she hands you off. “So, how’s your first morning going? Need coffee?” Navleen asks. “Actually, yes. I haven’t met my caffeine quota yet.” She grins. “Good. You’ll need it if you’re planning on surviving the rest of the day.” You glance around while you wait for your coffee. No one here looks relaxed. Even the way people sip their coffees feels performative.

She leans in. “There’s a Nespresso on Port Ops, the coffee from it tastes like burnt plastic. Most of us just get it down here, it’s no fun pulling a ten-hour day running on bad coffee.” “Good to know,” you say, smiling back at her.

You order, and Navleen leans back against the marble bar while they make your drinks. “So. You already met Harry?”

Your stomach twists. “Mr. Castillo?”

She raises a brow. “Saw you two talking earlier.”

You steady your voice. “He just said good morning, introduced himself. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm.” Navleen sips her drink, eyes flicking to you. “Takes a few days before you stop feeling like you might faint in front of him.”

You look down at your cup, “I didn’t expect to run into him.”

She shrugs. “No one ever is.”

Another sip. “But hey—it looked like you handled it. Not everyone does.” You grip your cup and give her a smile you don’t quite feel. She hums, tilting her head. 

“Just sayin’. People watch. You’ll figure that out.” A second passes, and her smile turns into a smirk. “Not always for the reasons you think.” The nerves you’d managed to calm set back in as you sit and drink your coffee.

She glances at her watch. “We should head back up. You’re in the bullpen for now—across from me and Isaac. You’ll meet him. He’s nice. A little too nice sometimes. Never shuts up about his partner. You’ll see.”

You laugh softly. “ he sounds harmless.”

“Harmless is usually where the real stories start.”

She pushes off the bar, coffee in hand, and heads down the hallway, looking back at you to encourage you to walk with her.

“Biggest tip? Keep your head down this week. Make friends,” she pauses for a moment as you step into the elevator, “Don’t outshine anyone.”

The door opens, and she nods for you to follow her. “Walk faster. We don’t linger in the halls. It’s a thing.” You speed up. “This section’s mostly juniors and interns,” she says, quieter now. “You’ll sit across from me, which is tragic for you, but good for me.” You pass through the offices, and a lot more people are here now. Most of the doors are closed, a few open just enough to offer a glimpse of someone hunched over a desk, whispering into a headset. The layout of this area is too open to feel safe, too quiet to feel casual. It feels like the kind of place that everyone could hear it if you fucked up.

Navleen gestures at a clean workstation, the desk is minimalist, and dual monitors are already set up.

“Here you go. Welcome to the fishbowl,” she says. “We pretend we’re not watching each other, but we are. It’s part of the fun.” Okay so it’s not just me who feels like a fucking beta fish. You give her a polite smile, pulling out the plush, leather office chair and putting your purse below your feet. Okay, this is fine. I’ve got this, I didn’t dissociate the entire morning at all. You drop into the chair at your new desk, coffee within reach, fingers twitching against the edge of the folder that Fawn handed you earlier. You take a few deep breaths and open it.

The first page is a welcome letter printed on heavy cardstock. The Legacy Capital logo is embossed into it with gold foil; the cardstock probably costs more than your printer back at home. The wording is formal and robotic: “We expect excellence, discretion, and professionalism from all of our team members, regardless of tenure.” It’s just a letter, but it feels like a warning. You turn the page. Org Chart. You freeze for a second. His name is printed right there at the top of the pyramid, also in gold foil. Harry Castillo. Your mother’s name is there too, tucked near the bottom under Executive Assistant to the CEO. You scan through the names, nobody notable, not you or Navleen, just a block labeled Intern Pool.

Figures. Next is a sheet of systems and logins—Slack, internal drives, and different formatting guidelines. Specific brand fonts for decks, company colors, black, gold, and white. There’s a section of file naming protocols that’s two damn paragraphs long. Communication Guidelines: ‘Transparency is key. Digital communication is monitored.’ You hum to yourself. Most of this certainly reads like a threat.

The HR packet is next, there’s benefit info that doesn’t apply to you yet, a copy of the NDA you already signed before starting, and an Ethics Compliance Form. You close your eyes tight for a second, then push past it. A small black and gold enamel pin slides free from one of the inner pouches. Legacy’s tower insignia stamped into it like a seal. A talisman. Did I just join a cult? You set it aside.

Lastly, on the bottom of the stack, there’s a Legacy-branded notebook—satin black cover, thick paper. On the inside of the cover page, written in gold: ‘Build your Legacy. Leave your mark.’ A bit ominous…but very on brand for this place. When you flip to the back of the notebook, you see your mother’s handwriting. ‘Proud of you. Keep your head down. — Mom x’ You stare down at the notebook for another few seconds. Build your Legacy. Leave your mark. The floor still feels like it's buzzing beneath your feet. Your head is still swimming. When you glance up, Navleen is already in deep conversation across the room, headset half on, fingers flying over her keyboard. You should be doing something. You pull your laptop toward you, tap it awake, and start clicking through Slack. Channels. Messages. Too many messages already. You try to focus. Try to look busy. A message pops up on the screen. Fawn: Ready? Meet me at Conference 2. Ten sharp. Instantly, your heart kicks up. You straighten your blazer, shove the onboarding folder into your purse, and pick up the notebook. And stand. First meeting. Deep breath. Don’t fuck this up. Conference rooms are on the floor above Port Ops. The floor layout is basically the same, a little more spread out, fewer people crammed in there, bigger rooms. You walk down the hall, all half-frosted glass walls like everywhere else. Your mother is already inside the office. Through the tower emblem, you can see her, seated perfectly upright, laptop already out on the table in front of her. Next to her—Harry. He’s standing, his jacket off now, the shirt he’s in is short-sleeved, he looks almost scandalous compared to the folks in crisp suits and dress shirts around him. He’s talking to someone on the opposite side of the table. Your stomach knots. Of course. First real meeting, and my mother and him are both here. Please kill me. Just as you start to force your feet forward, Fawn appears beside you. “Hey!” she says from behind, “you ready?” “As I’ll ever be.” You push down the nausea and clear your expression. Both heads turn toward you the moment Fawn pushes the door open. Your mother gives you a soft look, her lips ever so slightly curving up. Harry’s gaze slides over to you, slow. Then he steps back, casual, hands in his pockets. “Here she is,” Fawn says. “Our new addition.” You force a polite nod to the room. “Good morning.” “Morning,” your mom says quickly, like she’s trying to fill the space before anyone else can. She gestures lightly. “Have a seat, sweetheart.” The word hits your ears like nails on a chalkboard. Fawn motions for you to sit, conveniently across from Harry. Why am I sweating? He doesn’t say a word. He just watches for half a second too long before sliding into the chair beside your mother. The meeting begins. It’s part orientation rundown for the other interns and yourself, half schedule discussion.

You do your best to pay attention, writing down meaningless notes in your notebook, but your pulse keeps doing something weird every time Harry shifts in his seat. Every time your mother mentions “Legacy culture” or “building relationships within the firm,” your skin crawls. You can feel Harry’s eyes flick toward you again and again. You don’t dare meet it. When he finally speaks, i’ts low, calm, and smooth. You nearly drop your fucking pen. “Intern schedules can stay in Ops. Let's keep it clean.” Fawn just nods along. Your mother types something on her computer, brow furrowed in concentration. You stare at the words, leave your mark inside your notebook cover, and fight the urge to laugh. Or cry. The meeting starts to wind down, and people begin to gather their things. Harry stands up first, shrugging his jacket back on, movements smooth as ever. When he passes your chair, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t say a word.

But as he rounds the glass door, you glance over. He’s already looking back. The door clicks shut behind him, and your shoulders sag before you can catch it. Around the table, chairs scrape, and voices pick back up. The meeting is officially over. Fawn gives you a quick smile as you reach for your notebook. “Good first round,” she says under her breath. “You’ll get used to these quick.” “Thanks.” Across the room, your mom is still gathering her things up, just taking her time. Of course. She crosses to you just as the others file out. “You okay?” she asks quietly, her voice is bright, too practiced, too corporate. Then it drops lower, “You looked a little nervous.” “I’m fine. First day jitters.” You say, forcing a smile. Her gaze lingers a moment, searching your face. “Just keep your head down,” she says softly. A repeat of the note she left. “Don’t let them see you sweat.” You nod at her. She exhales. Then, says, “Come on then. I’ll walk you back up.”

You fall into step beside her, both of you moving through the halls like it’s normal. Like you’re not being watched already. Like people aren’t already thinking it. The rest of the day passes by in a blur. Emails, Slack messages, and system tutorials you could barely absorb. Patel tried to pull you into a few casual chats after introducing you to Isaac, who seemed nice. But she was right, he might actually be too nice. Fawn threw projects at you faster than you could even begin to process them. You smiled. You nodded. You didn’t breathe. Your stomach starts to growl loudly. You look over to the clock at the corner of your screen and— Shit, how is it 5 PM already? No wonder you’re hungry, you survived the day on dry toast, two cups of coffee, and a handful of hopes and dreams.

//

By the time you finish up your onboarding checklist and reread through the code of conduct four more times, it’s 7 PM. The office has thinned out considerably. Only a handful of people remain on the floor as you throw your blazer over your arm and walk out the door. The parking garage is spookier in the evening light. Emptier too. Before you’ve even buckled in, your cellphone starts to ring. You put the key in the ignition and turn. Pulling your phone out of your purse and smiling when you see the photo lighting up the screen. Emeryl. You slide to answer and slap the phone into the dash mount just as their face fills up the screen—grainy, 480P calculator quality, garage reception already choking the call. “Hey! I’m so glad you’re done at wor—oh my god, you look exhausted.” “Thanks, jerk. I am.” You throw the car into reverse, one hand braced on the wheel. “I survived the day. Just barely, but I survived!” They grin at you through the lens. “You better spill. Full report. I need this.”

When you start to speak, you get distracted before the first sentence is out. Out of the corner of your eye, headlights flash, and you hear the doors beep unlocked. Adrenaline shoots through you. A very shiny, very expensive-looking, very black Bentley. In a reserved spot. You mutter under your breath without thinking, “You have to be kidding.” The door swings open. And Mr. Castillo is right there, sliding into the driver’s seat. Still terrifying. Still too good-looking for your blood pressure. “...Hello?” Emeryl’s voice cuts in. “Why aren’t you talking? What’s happening?” “He’s here,” you whisper. “WHO?” You don’t answer right away. “Who is there? Jason fucking Vorhees?” they yell through the receiver, “You look like you’re about to be murdered.”

“My boss. The CEO. He’s…here. In the garage. Getting into his car.” Silence, then— “WHAT IS HAPPENING?” Their voice pitches up. “TURN ME AROUND. I WANT TO SEE.” . “I’m not turning you around, Jesus Christ,” you say, stifling a nervous laugh with your hand. “You’re so rude! I demand visuals. This is crucial information.” Your eyes dart back toward the Bentley just as it pulls into motion. “He’s leaving. It’s fine.” Emeryl groans. “Fine? You sound like you’re going to pass out. What the hell happened in there?” You grip the wheel tighter. “He just walked out when I was leaving. That’s all.” “You’re so full of shit. Start from the top. Did he look at you? Did he say something? Why are you being cryptic?” An exaggerated sigh heaves its way from your chest as you rub at your temple. “It’s nothing…I think. I don’t know.” “Girl.” “Okay fine. This morning, when I got in, he was like…staring at me.” “Okay, I’m intrigued, go on.” “I dropped my mascara wand on my blazer this morning and it stained it.” As you pull onto the street, the call audio crackles, clearing. You glance down, and Emeryl is now in at least 1080P. “This seems super irrelevant right now.” “Sorry. When we met, he got weirdly close to me and grabbed my wrist to look at the stain.” “In like…a hot way, or a murder way?” “Both?” You make a face, “anyway, he also told me to ‘be careful’ and it kinda made me feel some sorta way.” “Is he hot?” “He’s…old.” “That doesn’t mean anything. How old is old?” “Well, considering he was friends with my dad before I was born. I’m gonna have to say, he’s at least fifty-ish.” Emeryl repeats themself, “Okay, but is he hot? You sound like you’re still shaking?” “He’s definitely better looking than I remembered. He’s kinda giving—” you pause. “Wait, did you ever watch NARCOS?” “I don’t think so?” “Oh, okay. Never mind,” The line is silent for a solid thirty seconds. “So he’s hot?” “Oh my god, yes. Yes, Emeryl, he’s hot.” “Sorry, I’m just trying to live vicariously through you. I need office romance drama in my life somehow.” “You’re dumb.” “NO. You’re dumb. What did he smell like?” You’re blushing now. “Rich. Next topic.” “Of course he does,” Emeryl mutters.

“Everyone there looks perfect, too. It’s nauseating. My desk is literally in a glass box, people can see everything, including my $150 Nordstrom Rack blazers.” Emeryl snorts, “Sexy corporate surveillance kink, love that for you.” You say nothing, just shake your head. “Baby, you dress perfectly fine. Don’t worry about that part,” they say. “No, you don’t get it. I already want to burn half my wardrobe. Everyone there looks like they’re on the cover of Forbes.” // Harry all but peeled out of the parking garage. Took the corner too fast, fingers curled tight around the wheel, knuckles white. He hadn’t meant to watch her leave. Tried to look away, failed. She’s in his head. The whole damn drive home he’d barely seen the road. All he could think about was her face, tilted toward him in the office. Her profile in the meeting. The curve of her jaw. Her lips. That little sound she made when he took her wrist in his hand. Idiot. Fucking idiot. Don’t do this. Don’t do this again. He shouldn’t have let Janey convince him to give her the internship. Should have said it was a conflict of interest. Because this is a fucking conflict of interest. He gripped the wheel tighter. Had half a mind to pour a drink when he got home. Maybe two. But even he knew that wouldn’t wash her out. Because that feeling had already crept in, and he knew. It’s going to take more than the top shelf to stop it. When he sets his mind on something…on someone. He won’t quit until it’s his. Regardless of how terrible an idea he knows it is.

//

At this point, you’ve been in the car for 45 minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Getting back has been a total nightmare compared to this morning's ten-minute commute. Emeryl’s been grilling you the entire time about your day. Asking for every single detail. “So. I have a proposition.” “Oh god. Do I even want to hear it?” you groan. There's a small pause, then they say it so casually, like it's the most normal thing in the world. “Have you ever considered just…making one of these rich assholes pay your bills?” You blink. “Pardon.” “I’m serious.” Their voice perks up. “Join one of those sugar baby websites. I had a friend from Twitter in Oakland who did it. They made enough bank to pay off their student loans in like…three months.” You laugh, half-horified. “Em. No.” “Why not? Look at where you’re working. They’re all walking mother wounds with expense accounts. I think you’d be perfect.” “Absolutely not.” “Just look. At least I’m not like…telling you to sell toe pics again. Just make a profile. Window shop. Empower yourself!” “You’re out of your damn mind.” “You love me.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Maybe.” “That’s not a no. I’m texting you the site.” “You are not.” “Too late.” The phone buzzes with a new text notification from them. Of course, they sent that. You shift the mount a little, watching the traffic crawl. “Why are you like this?” “Please. You knew what you were getting into when you left me here for the wolves.” “God, I didn’t leave you for the wolves.” You protest. “You left me for New York. Same thing.” They lean in closer to the screen, grinning.

“You’re the only bitch I know who could ace a finance degree and still get tangled up with half the wolves on Wall Street. I’m just trying to make sure you survive it.” Your throat tightens, just a little. You missed them more than you let yourself think. In your first year at Berkeley, you met Emeryl. You were both at the same awful Halloween party. Neither of you knew the host. They found you smoking a cigarette on the balcony and said, “You look like you hate everyone here. Me too.” And that was that. Been each other’s lifeline ever since. This isn’t even the first time Emeryl has suggested you sign up for a website like this. They told you to make an account on Feetstagram a month ago and said, “You have nice arches,” like it meant anything. You considered it. Briefly… But unfortunately for them—and for the internet, you don’t do feet, don’t do feet stuff. Not that you’re gonna yuck anyone's yum. But for you? Nope. Not your thing. You finally make it home and park. Still both caught in conversation, yapping away as you walk into the apartment. One hand is still on the phone as you kick the door shut behind you. “I swear to God, LA traffic is miles better than this place, there are too many fucking bridges.” you groan. “Maybe you should carpool with your mom,” Emeryl suggests, holding back a snicker. “Maybe you should shut the fuck up.” They cackle. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you go. But—” their voice drops, teasing, “don’t forget what we talked about.” You roll your eyes, kicking off your heels. “I’m literally not doing that.” “You promised you’d look.” “I didn’t promise anything, I just said maybe.” They wink at you, grinning. “Let me know what username you choose!” You sigh—half laugh, half exhaustion. “I’ll call you tomorrow, love you.” They blow you a kiss and end the call. When you make it up to your room, you strip off your clothes and drop them straight into your hamper. You pull on an oversized tee and some PJs. You grab a glass of water from the kitchen and flop down on the couch with your laptop. Then you open a blank incognito tab, already shaking your head at yourself. You grab your phone and look at your text thread with Emeryl. Gilded. That’s the website name. It sounds…expensive.

You sigh, murmuring to yourself as you begin to type. I can’t believe I’m doing this. The URL auto-fills, and you exit the page before hitting enter. I am not doing this. Instead, you open Slack. Check your messages. Stare at your onboarding checklist again. Close it. You tap your fingers on the side of your laptop. Emeryl’s voice itches in your brain. ‘You promised you’d look’ You stare at the screen for a hot minute, debating, holding your face with one hand. “Fine.” You type it back in and actually hit enter this time. When the site loads, it's black and sleek and a little too inviting. You hesitate. I’m just looking. Just for fun. Not serious. When you finally click Sign Up, your heart flutters. Do I doxx myself completely? Or do I not… Instead of choosing a photo that shows your entire face, you pick a very sexy, very ominous photo that one of your film major friends took of you in school. It’s you posed leaning back on a sofa. All silhouettes in red light. Only your side profile is showing. Dark enough to stay relatively anonymous, visible enough to pass the website's standards. Now a username. You look around the living room for inspiration, There's a stack of your textbooks on the shelf. FinanceNerd? Nope. Absolutely not. Your eyes land on the old film camera sitting on the table. ShutterBaby? God, that sounds like a cartoon character. No. You chew on your lip, fingers tapping away again. Alumni hoodie. BerkeleyGrad? Kill me, I should give up while I’m ahead. Your gaze drifts toward the bookshelf again. Tucked between your other reads is a battered copy of Inferno. You’ve been slowly working your way through it again, mostly because Hozier sent you through a literary rabbit hole with his last album. You tilt your head. Francesca. Rimini. You hum. Both pretty. But… Your eyes shift to the fridge. There's a crooked little I <3 LA magnet—half a gag gift from Emeryl before you left, half a reminder of home. You laugh under your breath. La Rimini. It’s got a ring to it. A little mysterious. A little old-world, smart. You type it in. LaRimini. Click. You enter your ID information, then check the box that assures you that your full name is only ever made public if there’s a court order. You hit enter one more time and exhale. The profile accepts, and the screen instantly floods with profiles. Men in suits. Men on yachts. Men with smiles that they definitely bought. You scroll. Why did I put myself into this circle of hell right now? You scroll again. And then—

You pause. A profile catches your eye. Your pulse ticks a little faster. You lean in closer to the screen. No way. No FUCKING WAY. If you liked this please leave a comment! it really encourages me to keep writing these fics for yall. if you want to be added to the tag list also comment or send me an ask!!! love you all sm. -Liv

[tswhiisftteedr]

Ok, so this a character draft for an AU I'll be writing

(basically a rip-off of one of my dr scripts, for those who know what I'm talking about)

(These images are available on my art account @maviscarlettie)

I also need help with figuring out this guy's name!

He's twisted from glut in the little mermaid and from what I gather is a great white shark.

Glaive Charnel

Glaive = "a type of blade or sword," reference to Glut’s sharp shark teeth Charnel = "related to bones or a place for the dead" which fits the guy

Glaukos Thalass

Glaukos = "a sea god in Greek mythology," a mortal transformed into an immortal being of the sea Thalass = derived from Thalassa, the Greek word for “sea,”

Anyways, the two major components of this au are;

Instead of NCR being a four-year program with students off to internship during their fourth year, it will be a 5-year program instead(so students graduate at the age of 22 contrary to the original age of 21)

The story will sort of follow the events of the game, but will start a year early (so our fav first years, Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, and Sebek) will not be there yet. However we will eventually catch up to that point.

Secondly, the Mc will be in a sorta of yuu-ish situation. but is not a magicaless prefect from another world but instead a water nymph from Twisted Wonderland. (But is still 'wrongly' summoned by the dark mirror since they are a girl.)

They are also a year younger than the age everyone is at the beginning of the year ceremony (that will be something that plays into the story later)

Grim will be part of the story but only appears when the events of the game begin.

So this little shark guy will be the vice-housewarden of Octavinelle for a little while, and I'm working on the design of the house warden rn

This will be a reverse harem and probably have smut, but yeah, help me choose a name for this dude, and stay tuned!

Please comment your thoughts y'all, and have the best day!!!

[sensgrave]

"How the hell did cupid get bullets?"

Prologue; potential to be a graves x reader, contains university stress and jobhunting, don't feed my shit to AI, yadda yadda yadda. SFW prologue, but MDNI. Any minors will be blocked. Long time lurker first time caller, etc. 1.1k words

Going through university wasn’t the easiest way to get through to your goals, but it certainly was a good opportunity that was luckily accessible to you. While finishing up a cybersecurity degree there were a few options for work placement – mandatory for graduation. Great way to gain some connections, and some field experience, getting you just a little bit further to that dream.

The dream? Being a person that keeps the world turning...in the background, preferably. There’s more focus than ever on technology, and you wanted to be ahead of the curve on the next advancements.

Opening your laptop, you decide to log on and look through the choices provided, since it’s a few weeks until you must lock in an option. No harm in putting some thought into the last thing you’ll do at university, before entering the workforce. Absolutely a decision with zero pressure whatsoever. There are a few options listed on the enrollment portal, but one catches your eye, surprisingly. ‘On site cybersecurity work’ – woefully generic. Generic to the point of being pretty much ignored by everyone, so it’s still open. You click on the full listing, thinking maybe there’s more detail inside? Yet the full page is easily summarised. Too easily, in fact. It doesn’t offer any more clarifying information and brings forward the thought of what ‘LinkedIn minimalism’ might entail.

‘On-site cybersecurity work. - Requires travel, organized by agency. - May involve intense workload, with unusual hours. - More details available at interview, attendee is required to sign an NDA upon applying. - Salary non-negotiable. - Minimum 12 month commitment, with potential to extend.��

There’s more red flags here than an incel’s twitter. No fucking thanks. Moving onto the next few options, standard cybersecurity intern positions – a lot of them listing low-to-midrange salaries, with a few ‘internship’ programs that offer prestige, in lieu of reimbursement. Absolutely no thanks. There’s too many options to go through and it’s super overwhelming. Besides, there’s still a while before the deadline, so you figure you’ll leave it for now – and probably apply to the one that has the least bad omens with an okay-ish salary. Sounds like a good rough plan for now. At least it would, if you hadn’t forgotten the requirement entirely.

Luckily an automatic reminder email from your university managed to remind you a day before the registration for placement closes. Considering how scatterbrained you’ve been, you’re thankful for the little robot that sends out these alerts – rather than the typical annoyance given. At this point, you’d take any position to avoid having to wait until the next semester to finish this final step. Logging on however, it seems there’s little choice in the matter anyway. The only spot left open is that weirdly cryptic, incredibly vanilla, and extremely vague listing. Fuck it, you think – confirming it as your placement choice.

Worst comes to worst, I can quit after. It’s just a first step, not the entire career.

A mildly comforting rationalization, at best. You’ve at least got some relief, knowing it’s been sorted. A few days later, you receive an email from the placement coordinators, putting you in touch with the agency and a representative to go over the finer details of your potential employment.

It’s great to be in touch with you about this opportunity. The biggest thing I suppose we would have to organise is travel. Travel is required for the job, but we will provide all preparations required – including transport and accommodation. Unfortunately, I can’t go over any further unless you wish to confirm an in-person interview. That will require travel, but we’re happy to organise it just the same way, and reimburse you for your time too.

Even though this email chain would objectively be an example of ‘avoid at all costs’ – that little voice isn’t there. That gut feeling of doom just… isn’t there. You know it’s weird, it’s got a huge amount of potential issues, but a bad gut feeling is not kicking in. You’ve got enough common sense to know this is a terrible idea on paper – but instinct tells you otherwise. There’s some wonderful places and experiences you’ve had thanks to trusting yourself, and a real good streak at gambling risk-to-reward in your life. It’s not like there’s any other choice though. I mean, there is waiting until next semester, but that option does give you that sense of dread. After a few more emails back and forth, you’ve been given your transport details. A car will be picking you up from your house as agreed roughly one month from now, to take you to a small passenger plane on a private runway. Super odd circumstances, but the mysterious email representative did let you know that it was a fairly rural and remote area, requiring specialised transport. Over the month, you celebrate with your family and friends about this last part of university, as you all prepare for the potential of this job keeping you for a whole year. After a lot of good times, tearful see-you-laters, and frantic packing – a doorbell cuts off your inner reminiscent monologue, letting you know that now’s the time to haul ass into that car. Outside there is an incredibly large car, with glossy black paint and heavily tinted windows. Knowing about cars is a whole different kettle of fish, but at least this fish says ‘escalade’ on the bumper. It’s a good sign the company’s got money, so maybe the omen of a ‘non-negotiable’ salary might not be too bad. You can confirm it’s the right car, as the representative let you know the plate of the vehicle beforehand. As you approach tentatively with your bag, the suited driver rolls down the window and confirms your name, asking to see your ID. Weird formalities and seriousness aside – you flash your ID and he helps you load your bag into the car’s boot. With a potentially final wave, you quickly say goodbye as the car pulls out from the street. Once you’re on the road, there’s still a weird atmosphere in the air as you struggle to make casual chitchat with the gruff driver – opting to be on your phone instead for the majority of the trip. Roughly two hours later, the driver pipes up, still as gruff as before. “You’re going to lose signal for a while, as we’ll be there in about 15. Finish up anything that requires mobile data, and put your phone on airplane mode. You’ll thank me when it’s still got battery halfway through the flight.” “Thanks for letting me know.” Lifting your head up, you take a look at your surroundings. Wait, where the fuck am I? Why is this window tint so dark? Surely, it’s not road legal right? I can’t see shit out of the windows. These were questions you probably should’ve asked yourself a lot earlier.

[reyaint]

the academy | schedule

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date: march 27/28, 2025. started: 11:20. ended: 12:52

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✧˖*°࿐Key Points of the Veltrius Lumos Academy Schedule

𓂃༊ monday-thursday: full academic days with breaks and extracurricular activities in the afternoon.

𓂃༊ friday: a slightly shorter academic day, allowing time for students to prepare for weekend activities or rest.

𓂃༊ saturday: mainly reserved for sports & club activities, though some competitions, rehearsals, or study groups may take place.

𓂃༊ sunday: a flexible day for personal study, socialization, and club-organized events in the evening.

𓂃༊ year 2 & 3 free periods: upper-year students get early dismissal privileges if they are not involved in extracurriculars.

✧˖*°࿐Weekly and Daily Enhancements

*ೃ༄Morning Routine & Academic Time

𓂃༊ library opens at 5:45 AM for early studying.

𓂃༊ dormitory wake-up call is 6:00 AM, though students are expected to wake up on their own.

𓂃༊ breakfast is buffet-style, with a mix of international cuisine, healthy options, and student favorites.

𓂃༊ morning meditation & yoga (optional) is held 6:15 - 7:00 AM in the gardens for relaxation before classes.

𓂃༊ 8:20 AM: students must be in their first-period classrooms. anyone late after 8:30 AM requires a late pass.

*ೃ༄Class & Break Times

𓂃༊ morning break (10:10 - 10:20 AM): students can grab snacks, socialize, or study.

𓂃༊ afternoon break (1:40 - 1:50 PM): a short reset before the final academic period.

𓂃༊ study Hall (optional): 8th-period study hall for students who are behind or need additional tutoring.

✧˖*°࿐Saturday & Sunday Schedule

𓂃༊ since saturday & sunday are more relaxed, students have the freedom to choose their schedules, with set times for activities.

*ೃ༄Saturdays

𓂃༊ 10:00 AM - 12:00 PM: clubs & workshops (art, debate, music, science, etc.)

𓂃༊ 12:00 PM - 1:30 PM: lunch & social time

𓂃༊ 2:00 - 4:30 PM: sports games & competitions (certain teams have scheduled matches).

𓂃༊ 5:30 - 8:00 PM: dinners, outings, & dorm bonding activities.

𓂃༊ 9:00 - 11:00 PM: house socials, free rime, or special school events (theater performances, talent shows, stargazing events).

*ೃ༄Sundays

𓂃༊ open Day for rest, homework, or independent study.

𓂃༊ optional Field Trips or city visits for students who sign up.

𓂃༊ 7:30 PM - 9:00 PM: study Hall opens for students who need structured time to complete work.

✧˖*°࿐Academic Calendar & Holidays

𓂃༊ Veltrius Lumos Academy follows a semester-based academic calendar, with seasonal breaks, school-wide events, and cultural holidays integrated into the schedule.

*ೃ༄Key Academic Terms & Breaks

𓂃༊ two-semester system

✧ 𓂃 › fall semester → early september - mid december

✧ 𓂃 › spring semester → early january - may

✧ 𓂃 › summer term (optional) → late may - july (specialized courses, internships, travel programs)

✧ 𓂃 › graduation: late may

𓂃༊ seasonal breaks & holidays

✧ 𓂃 › autumn break: early october (1 week)

✧ 𓂃 › winter break → mid december - early january (4 weeks off)

✧ 𓂃 › spring break → mid-march (2 weeks off)

✧ 𓂃 › summer break: late-may – early september (15 weeks)

𓂃༊ other events

✧ 𓂃 › festival of life weekend (april 3-4)

✧ 𓂃 › summer solstice celebrations (june 20-21)

✧ 𓂃 › winter solstice celebrations (december 21)

𓂃༊ exam periods

✧ 𓂃 › midterms: late october & late march

✧ 𓂃 › final exams: early december & late may

𓂃༊ national & religious holidays → the school respects cultural and regional observances, allowing students time off for major celebrations.

✧˖*°࿐Notable School Events and Traditions

𓂃༊ opening ceremony (late friday of august) ✧ 𓂃 › the first official event of the academic year, where new students are welcomed, faculty introduces upcoming programs, and student leaders give speeches. the ceremony takes place in the grand auditorium, accompanied by an orchestral performance and an art showcase.

𓂃༊ house sorting & initiation (first week of school) ✧ 𓂃 › after arriving at Veltrius, students undergo the House Sorting Process, followed by a House Initiation Night, where new students participate in team-building activities, house feasts, and mentorship pairings with older students.

𓂃༊ autumn festival (september 22, autumn equinox) ✦ ˚ — a celebration of seasonal change and artistic expression

✧ 𓂃 › outdoor concerts, art exhibitions, and poetry readings

✧ 𓂃 › seasonal feasts with locally sourced ingredients

✧ 𓂃 › candle-lit reflection gatherings

𓂃༊ winter solstice festival (december 21) ✦ ˚ — students gather in the central courtyard, surrounded by lanterns and firepits

✧ 𓂃 › live storytelling and theatrical performances

✧ 𓂃 › hot chocolate and seasonal pastries

✧ 𓂃 › lantern-lighting rituals for renewal and good fortune

𓂃༊ spring equinox (march 19) ✧ 𓂃 › celebrated with garden planting, sustainability projects, and outdoor activities, this event encourages student-led eco-initiatives and hands-on learning.

𓂃༊ festival of arts & innovation (april 20) ✦ ˚ — a school-wide showcase of student work, including:

✧ 𓂃 › music recitals and dance performances

✧ 𓂃 › fashion and photography exhibitions

✧ 𓂃 › STEM and business innovation pitches

𓂃༊ final year gala (may 20) ✦ ˚ — an exclusive event for third-year students, marking their final days at Veltrius. It features:

✧ 𓂃 › an elegant dinner in the main hall

✧ 𓂃 › reflections from faculty and students

✧ 𓂃 › a farewell toast under the stars

𓂃༊ graduation ceremony (late may) ✦ ˚ — held in the Grand Courtyard

✧ 𓂃 › traditional academic dress and honors

✧ 𓂃 › a final artistic performance from the graduating class

✧ 𓂃 › the symbolic “Passing of the Flame” tradition where third-years light candles for the new students continuing their legacy.

*ೃ༄ My Schedule: Year 2 (when I'm shifting)

*ೃ༄Monday - Thursday

𓂃༊ 6:20 —7:50AM: breakfast

𓂃༊ 8:30 —9:00AM: 1st period - english II (critical thinking and analytical writing)

𓂃༊ 9:05 —9:35AM: 2nd period - AP myths and legends

𓂃༊ 9:40 —10:10AM: 3rd period - algebra II w/statistics AP + precal

𓂃༊ 10:10 —10:20AM: morning break

𓂃༊ 10:25 —10:55AM: 4th period - AP world history

𓂃༊ 11:00 —11:30AM: 5th period - AP marine bio

𓂃༊ 11:30AM — 12:30PM: lunch

𓂃༊ 12:35 —1:05PM: 6th period - greek II (intermediate grammar, translation, and history)

𓂃༊ 1:10 —1:40PM: 7th period - haiqinian lang and comp AP

𓂃༊ 1:40 —1:50PM: afternoon break

𓂃༊ 1:55 —2:25PM: 8th period - fashion design

𓂃༊ 3:30 —5:30OM: sports practice (tuesday and thursday)

𓂃༊ 6:00 —7:50PM: dinner

𓂃༊ 10:30PM: curfew

*ೃ༄Friday

𓂃༊ 6:20 —7:50AM: breakfast

𓂃༊ 8:30 — 8:55AM: 1st period - english II (critical thinking and analytical writing)

𓂃༊ 9:00 —9:25AM: 2nd period - AP myths and legends

𓂃༊ 9:30 —9:55AM: 3rd period - algebra II w/statistics AP + precal

𓂃༊ 9:55 —10:05AM: morning break

𓂃༊ 10:10 — 10:35AM: 4th period - AP world history

𓂃༊ 10:40 — 11:05AM: 5th period - AP marine bio

𓂃༊ 11: 10 — 11:35AM: 6th period - greek II (intermediate grammar, translation, and history)

𓂃༊ 11:35AM — 12:35PM lunch

𓂃༊ 12:40 — 1:05PM: 7th period - haiqinian lang and comp AP

𓂃༊ 1:10 — 1:35PM: 8th period - fashion design

𓂃༊ 3:30 —5:30OM: sports practice (tuesday and thursday)

𓂃༊ 6:00 —7:50PM: dinner

𓂃༊ 10:30PM: curfew

*ೃ༄Extras

𓂃༊ saturday is reserved for extracurricular activities (sports). everyone generally have Saturday free, making it a popular time for clubs to schedule events.

𓂃༊ the same is true of sundays: clubs held some activities (usually in the evening) and people generally do homework or socialized.

𓂃༊ year 2 can get 8th period off after doing their main classes if they don’t have any extracurriculars.

𓂃༊ volleyball is primarily a fall sport (august-november), with practices also two days a week (3:00 — 5:00)

𓂃༊ figure skating would run during the winter season (november-march), with practices two days a week. (3:00 — 5:00)

[eliasbouchardslut]

Advise columnist anon at your service bbgirl

just gonna answer this so i post it out all there for everyone . so basically. i want to be a surgical tech bc i originally had wanted to go to nursing school but there is quite literally only one job i want so whats the point of going to a generalized nursing program when i could just be a surgical tech (i know the salary is the reason too) but yknow.

so my issue is that there is a program I can do for surgical technology but it is quite literally a 2 year program and it is essentially a full time job, like full days of classes Mon-Fri. my concerns about this are that i'm gettin kicked out of my parents house fairly soon so i'm gonna have to pay rent and im from san francisco so that is NOOOOT cheap. i don't know how i could afford to do that without draining my savings, especially since I would have to quit my current job and my current job pays fairly well. but then again i would get my surgical tech certificate and it is a nationally recognize program so there would be no hurdles to gettin certified and its valid anywhere.

there is another program that has all the academic portions fully online with the option for placement in an internship afterwards, but the only thing is that it is not a program accepted by the main certifying branch of surgical techs (it IS certified by a couple organizations but not the main one) however it would give me a certificate and practical experience and i would be able to keep my job and work at my own pace. only issues is that it can't guarantee that that program is enough for me to get a job 😭

so basically my options are to either go with the program that guarantees i would be job eligible and lose my current job and drain my savings or go with the online program and not be guaranteed a job everywhere but i can keep my job and income while going to school

[dawnwithablog]

About the Disney College Program (DCP)

Unless you're a Disney super fan or a Florida resident looking for an interesting job, I doubt you've even heard about the Disney College Program. At least, I know that I hadn't, but ever since I began my program in early June, I've made it my mission to find answers to the questions that so many people are asking. Here are 5 of the most common questions about the DCP with answers.

What is the program?

The Disney College Program is a paid internship in which current university/college students or recent graduates can have the opportunity to work in the parks.

2. Do you have to do classes while in the program?

No, you do not have to be actively taking classes during your program. I would say that most participants choose to take the semester off of school in order to focus on their program. However, in order to apply, you must be actively enrolled and taking classes at an accredited institution, OR you must have graduated within the last 24 months of the application date.

3. Can I choose what job (usually referred to as your 'role') I end up getting?

The short answer is no, roles are assigned based on operational needs and usually have little to do with your resume or preferences. The long answer is that SOME work experience almost guarantees you certain roles. For example, if you applied with Starbucks experience, you will almost certainly be placed at a Starbucks location within the parks. Another thing to keep in mind is that the DCP's main purpose is to fill the undesirable roles within the parks. This means that roles such as Custodial, Quick Service Food & Beverage, Houseperson, and Merchandise are extremely common. Roles such as Character Performer, Character Actor, and Attractions are both very highly sought after and very rare for DCP participants to get.

4. Where would I live?

Both DCP participants and full time/part time cast members have the option to live at Flamingo Crossing Village, an apartment complex near Walt Disney World. While the apartments themselves are not owned by nor operated by Disney, they are very well maintained, and feature both single and double rooms, new appliances, complimentary furniture, a pool, a community center, and a nearby plaza with retail and dining options. If you're interested in seeing an apartment tour, feel free to check out my apartment tour which is posted to my TikTok and my Instagram.

5. Do you get to get in to the parks for free?

Yes! Once you have completed your first round of training you will receive your self admissions pass, which allows you to enter any of the parks as many times as you want for free! Not only can you enter yourself, you also receive Chip and Dale passes, which allow you to bring friends and family into the park with you. You don't get unlimited Chip and Dale passes however, so be mindful of how and when you choose to use these passes.

Thank you for reading my post! Feel free to submit any other questions you may have about the program, working at Disney, or questions about my life in general. Also, leave a comment if you'd like to hear more about the DCP interview process.

[slavic-roots-western-mind]

Back to uni to-dos: Final year edition

This will be my final year at university, which in itself is honestly unbelievable. Here's a list of things to do before and during your final year, although anyone can benefit from this advice!

1.Review your graduation requirements Make sure that everything is on track grade-wise and that you have enough credits to graduate. If there are any issues, meet with your academic advisor so that you have enough time to fix everything and graduate hassle-free.

2. Fix your sleep schedule before your classes are due to start. You can't be productive if you're always sleep-deprived and running on coffee. Your final year is especially important, so you need to be able to focus, which is practically impossible if you're sleep-deprived.

3. Exchange contact details with your favorite professors, advisors, etc. This may be a cultural thing, but here it's quite usual to remain in contact with your professors. You don't have to be facebook friends, but having someone you can ask for advice or request a LinkedIn recommendation from may be useful, which leads me to the next point.

4. Update your LinkedIn & other profiles This includes updating your email address to something more professional because the email address you had since you were 12 is unlikely to be all that professional now. Add any experience that you may have, whether it's an internship, freelancing or a job placement etc.

5. Plan what comes after or review your plan Are you jumping into a masters degree? Freelancing? Working abroad? Not many people have a 100% finished plan, but it does help to research your options and have an understanding of what you want to do after. Things change and as the past year has shown, some previously considered options are definitely not it.

6. Career fairs and networking events Chances are you may have attended some, but for final years these things are especially important. You have a chance to personally meet recruiters and to exchange contact details which may come in handy in the future. Obviously you can do that via LinkedIn, but I for one think that talking in person can add more of a personal touch. Regarding networking in general, it doesn't necessarily have to be a formal affair. Sure there are those formal meetings but they don't always have to be. There are plenty of facebook groups e.g. marketing, women in finance etc. which you can join and ask for mentoring, advice or even if you can meet up for a coffee and a chat. Alternatively, your university most likely has a careers/guidance office where you can find out about any networking meetings or organizations that have events going on.

7. Create an application schedule Many firms open their graduate student program applications at a certain time, so depending on where you're applying, or if you're skipping that, a schedule is a good idea. If you're targeting different sectors then your resume will have to be altered a bit to make it appropriate for the job that you're applying for. Many jobs also require cover letters, so it may be a good idea to have a rough template so that you know what exactly it is that you're supposed to include and then edit accordingly.

8. Try to get some work experience It doesn't have to be full-time at an office type of work, but any experience is good. Freelance language tutor, an internship, volunteer work, writing for your uni's paper. Experience doesn't automatically guarantee you a job, but it can be beneficial in standing out or giving you an extra boost.

9. Try to get some extra qualifications A language proficiency test, a coursera course (there are quite a lot of free ones), a LinkedIn powerpoint course, Code First Girls javascript course (also free!). You can add quite a lot of skills to your LinkedIn profile, but you do need to be able to back them up. These extra courses and qualification aren't just good for your resume, but they're also a good way for you to develop new skills and develop new interests. And who knows where they might end up taking you. My teachers former student ended up finding herself a husband on a study abroad language program in Korea and now they're happily married and living in Japan I think.

10. Make the most of it Uni certainly has it's ups and downs, but for most it's a pretty rewarding and occasionally enlightening journey. You may have different feelings towards it, but it is coming to an end so make some good memories.

11. Remember that life will go on after uni Many people may feel odd after graduating, you just spent 3-4 years living your life as a student and now you're not. Your previous routines that worked before may not work anymore. You may not be as close to your former dormmates. You may drift apart from your college bestie. But life goes on. Many things may stay the same and even more things may change and that's ok.

[dekhocampus11]

National Institute of Fashion Technology - [NIFT], Patna

National Institute of Fashion Technology (NIFT), Patna – An In-Depth Overview (800 Words)

Established in 2008, the National Institute of Fashion Technology (NIFT), Patna is one of the key centers of excellence under the Ministry of Textiles, Government of India. Since its inception, NIFT Patna has been committed to nurturing creativity, innovation, and professionalism in the field of fashion and design. Strategically located in Bihar’s capital, this institute blends traditional cultural richness with cutting-edge design education.

Academic Programs

NIFT Patna offers various undergraduate and postgraduate programs designed to equip students with both creative and technical skills essential for the fashion and lifestyle industry.

Undergraduate Programs:

Bachelor of Design (B.Des) in:

Fashion Design

Fashion Communication

Textile Design

Bachelor of Fashion Technology (B.FTech):

Specialization in Apparel Production

Postgraduate Programs:

Master of Design (M.Des) – Focused on advanced design methodology and design thinking.

Master of Fashion Management (MFM) – Concentrated on business strategies, retail, and fashion marketing.

The curriculum is structured to provide theoretical knowledge, hands-on training, and industry exposure. A blend of classroom learning, workshops, internships, and live projects ensures that students develop a deep understanding of design concepts and business dynamics.

Campus Infrastructure and Facilities

NIFT Patna’s campus offers a modern environment conducive to learning, innovation, and collaboration:

Design Studios and Labs are equipped with high-end machinery and tools that allow students to practice weaving, dyeing, garment construction, printing, pattern making, and digital design.

Computer Labs: Advanced software for CAD, 3D modeling, graphic design, and garment manufacturing systems are accessible to students for academic and project work.

Library: A vast collection of books, journals, and digital resources covering subjects like fashion, textiles, marketing, and management.

Workshops and Resource Centers: For practical training in accessory design, leather craft, and traditional Indian textiles.

Exhibition Spaces: Areas for displaying student projects and hosting fashion events and displays.

Hostel Facilities: Comfortable and safe accommodation options for both male and female students with necessary amenities like Wi-Fi, common rooms, mess, and laundry services.

Cafeteria and Recreation: Clean dining facilities with a variety of food options, along with indoor and outdoor sports infrastructure.

Placement and Industry Interface

NIFT Patna maintains strong ties with leading fashion houses, retail giants, and manufacturing units, facilitating career opportunities and internships for students.

Placement Cell Activities:

Organizes annual campus placements

Conducts workshops on resume writing and interview preparation

Hosts mock interviews and career counseling sessions

Arranges industry visits and interaction programs

Top Recruiters Include:

Adidas

Arvind Mills

H&M

Levi’s

FabIndia

Pantaloons

Raymond

Van Heusen

Future Group

Tommy Hilfiger

Placement Statistics:

Average Salary: ₹5 to ₹8 LPA

Highest Package: Up to ₹12 LPA

Sectors Covered: Fashion design, apparel manufacturing, brand management, fashion merchandising, retail strategy, and textile development

Scholarships and Financial Assistance

NIFT Patna offers financial aid through scholarships to ensure that deserving and meritorious students are not denied education due to economic constraints.

Sarthak Scheme: Provides fee waivers ranging from 50% to 100% based on the student’s family income and academic performance.

UDAAN Program: Supports students pursuing higher studies abroad under exchange or twinning programs.

These initiatives promote inclusivity and accessibility in fashion education, encouraging students from diverse backgrounds to pursue their passion.

Student Life and Activities

Student life at NIFT Patna is vibrant, collaborative, and filled with opportunities to express creativity beyond the classroom.

Cultural and Technical Fests: Events like Spectrum and Converge provide platforms for students to showcase their talent in fashion, performing arts, and innovation.

Clubs and Societies: Various student-led clubs cater to interests like photography, styling, film-making, design thinking, entrepreneurship, and sustainability.

Guest Lectures and Workshops: Regular sessions by industry professionals and alumni offer practical insights into the global fashion ecosystem.

Internships: All students undergo compulsory internships with fashion brands, designers, or production houses to apply theoretical knowledge in real-world settings. Many of these internships convert into pre-placement offers.

Conclusion

NIFT Patna is a center of excellence that offers a holistic fashion education combining design, technology, and management. With its modern infrastructure, committed faculty, industry-oriented curriculum, and strong placement support, it creates well-rounded professionals ready to meet the demands of the global fashion and lifestyle market. The campus environment encourages experimentation, innovation, and cultural exchange—making it an ideal place for aspiring fashion designers, technologists, and managers to grow and thrive.

[azfellesquire]

2028

While everyone is distracted by *gestures wildly*, how about we make our own US Project 2028? I don’t even know if this will be allowed here but this is a list I literally came up with in like a half hour. Absolute madness. (Open to additions and alterations 😉)

Universal healthcare

Tax for-profit churches

Require AI enterprises to be carbon neutral on their own $$

Eliminate/limit venture capital/corporation ownership of residential properties

Eliminate tax loopholes for corporations

Limit ability of essential services (grocery, gas, prescriptions, etc.) from increasing prices to increase profits

Raise funding for education

Raise funding for drug intervention programs, in connection with gradually decreasing police funding as these programs support the communities

LGBTQIA+ protections and support

Increase minimum wage to match inflation since 7.25

Increased union protection + reduce union busting ability

Free universal school lunch

End unpaid internships

Cap CEO salary (75x lowest paid employee, assuming at least minimum wage and 40 hours/52 weeks)

18 year term limits for Congress

Required maternity/paternity leave

Reduce restrictions on disability support ($2k in assets, etc.)

Reduce planned obsolescence

Reduce SAAS dependence (at the very least give an option to purchase for a reasonable price when updating to a new version).

Copyright reforms for the modern era (off the top of my head: if a streaming service owns a piece of media, if they take it off the streaming service, they must make it available for free, or put it in the public domain. Least experience here, would likely need input on residual and payment for artists, writers, etc.)

Right to repair

Funding to replace lead pipes and similar infrastructure

Increase renewable energy, solar, wind (promote solar in already-existing parking lots, shaded parking lot + solar generation), do not use good farmland for solar farms.

Eliminate student debt and work toward publicly funded education

Separate church and state per constitution (religious schools should not receive federal funding, enhanced scrutiny, remove bibles except for library copies)

High speed rail transportation

Promote walkable cities + public transportation

Promote electric vehicles and hybrid alternatives.

Increase privacy protections- Must actively provide information to be added to email lists, not require personal information for discounts, not track data without explicit permission and must offer alternatives if permission is not given

Reduce ad content on websites

Legalize SW + regulations

Legalize marijuana + regulations

Increased restrictions on processed food and additives (nothing drastic, but matching European standards seems like a reasonable start)

Increase pedestrian safety by returning to lower car heights in the front of vehicles

I’m fairly well informed on many of these, but obviously any true policy or law would require experts and experienced people in those fields. I’m so tired of having our lives and health and planet controlled by people who have never lived a day in our shoes.

Have a few frivolous ones:

Cybertrucks must use a clown honk as the horn

Unsolicited dic pics cost $100 to send, payable immediately to the recipient

[castudies]

2 am on christmas morning vent because why not.

i'm thinking about how it's been an interesting pre-law journey for me. i've gotten into two law schools, been moved from ED to RD for another law school, and am waiting on five more schools. may apply to two or three more, probably before the new year. to my surprise, i've found myself fluctuating emotionally way more since receiving my acceptances -- as opposed to just riding a happiness high. don't get me wrong. when i say fluctuating, that includes very high highs and a sense of pride i haven't felt in a while. but i guess part of me still wonders (and may always wonder) how this would all be playing out if it weren't for the parts of my journey where i felt i slipped up. where i have trouble trusting i did the best i could.

something i've found helpful in coping with those mental lows is being more excited about the near future. i've started envisioning what life could be like if i commit to either of the two schools i've gotten into so far. looking more into their course offerings, internships, study abroad programs. peaking at housing options. i also want to travel a ton before i start law school. right now, my plan is a three-part international trip -- first part solo, second part with family, third part with friends -- so i've started planning out what that could look like, too.

i guess all this to say: i think overall i trust that everything will be ok, including myself, but the application season remains a heavy weight to contend with personally.

[oscarpiastriwdc]

(if you are comfy ofc) can you speak a little bit about why you choose law school and how you ended up in your current practice area? i'm seriously considering applying next year (i've taken the lsat, done research, talked to people, even written essays lol) and i feel like a jd would be a natural extension of my current work but i've never taken any legal-esque courses and I'm afraid i'll hate it. i also think i would most like govt work but im not sure if that's what i actually will like. did you go in with legal experience? how did you find the adjustment? what made you want to go into your current practice area? anything u can share is very helpful and i wish u luck with ur new job! <3

Hi! Of course! Sorry this is very rambly, I wanted to write down all my thoughts so I'll put it under the cut.

I went straight from undergrad to law school. My sophomore year of college was when I first started considering law school as a post-graduation option. I started doing jobs and internships in the immigration law arena (immigration casework for a senator, refugee resettlement, asylum stuff), but didn't really do anything touching other areas of law. One of my undergrad majors was humanitarian studies, so I knew from the start my focus would be on non-profit/public interest/policy/ngo work. If I remember right I took maybe one "law" class? My senior year, I was deciding between law school, doing a masters in something else like public policy, or going straight into work for an ngo, and decided law school made the most sense for me. Some of the factors that I weighed were the versatility of a law degree against the non-versatility of a masters, availability of law school scholarships compared to financial aid for other masters programs, low salaries for ngo work, and job market security.

Going into 1L year I thought I wanted to do public policy work. I had liked the immigration work I'd been doing but was hesitant about doing it on a firm level and thought immigration policy would be a good fit. I did a policy fellowship the summer after my 1L year and hated it. In retrospect, some of that probably had more to do with the fact it was summer 2020 and I was miserable for other reasons, but all together it left me in a place where I was a bit panicked about what I would actually do after graduation. I ended up taking a job doing public defender work the summer after my 2L year on a "why not try it out" whim and absolutely loved it. I found the work exciting and engaging and realized I actually love being in court.

That set me up to do more criminal defense work my 3L year; I did criminal appeals stuff, federal pd work, and a bunch of other things where I was trying to get as much defense experience as possible. I also did some asylum work my 3L year, which was my first foray back into immigration related work since I had started law school.

When I was job searching, I only looked at public interest or PD work. The law firm life is not for me, so I completely steered clear. I ended up accepting a job with legal aid, where I've been the last two years. I've been doing civil rights work with an emphasis on Native American rights, which has combined elements of policy work, civil litigation, criminal law, and more. My biggest take away from this job is that I fucking despise civil litigation. I like the in court stuff but civil discovery makes me want to die. Besides that, I've enjoyed the criminal stuff and policy stuff I've done at this job, but the amount of civil litigation in my caseload has been killing me.

I wanted to find a new job for the sake of my blood pressure and to get away from civil litigation and for other personal reasons (geography lol) so when I started tentatively looking, I was set on doing pure PD work or doing something more specialized that wouldn't include general civil lit. Throughout the application and interview process I remembered how much I had loved doing immigration law and why that was what put me on the path towards law school in the first place. My new job is going to be doing asylum law with a non-profit, and I'm so excited.

All of that to say, I tried out different practice areas and have loved some and hated others, and everyone I know is still figuring it out, too. Two years out of law school, more than half of the people I know from law school have changed jobs or switched practice areas because it's so hard to know what it will actually be like when you're in the thick of it. One of the advantages of a law degree, in my opinion, is that it does provide that flexibility of a strong academic base that you can use to jump around and try out different things without having to get another degree or certificate. You can easily go in thinking you'll like one type of work, try it out your 1L summer, and then try something else out if you hate it, or find new paths you didn't even know were a thing until you're in that legal network.

Law school is nothing like the practice of law, especially not the first year. There are people who hate law school but excel in actual legal practice, or who enjoyed the intellectual exercise of law school but don't like the day-to-day minutia of being a lawyer. It can be overwhelming in the beginning, but once you're past the first year and you can actually pick your classes it's so much more interesting (I despised the 1L classes but genuinely enjoyed almost every class I took as a 2L and 3L). 1L year is not at all comparable to anything in undergrad, so as far as that transition goes, it can be a trial by fire, but you bond with your peers quickly because everyone else is also wondering what the fuck is going on.

One other thing I will say about deciding whether or not to go to law school is to seriously weigh the financials. I'm really lucky and don't have any law school debt. That's allowed me more freedom and alleviates some of the pressure. Friends and people I know who do have law school debt are in a position where they feel pressured into going towards big law or are more tied to staying at jobs they don't like, compared to people I know who are also debt-free or lower debt and are more willing to take risks. Unfortunately, the debt cloud really does completely change what post-grad life looks like.

Ahh sorry this is so long but I am happy to talk in more specifics about any questions you might have! Feel free to message me!