#C++ for Class 11 and Class 12

[awrkive]

summary: where you and jungkook love to play the push and pull game

w/c: 4.7k

warnings/misc: idol!jk x (fem)producer!reader. the usual. mean words being exchanged to each other in the name of banter 😕 they dk how to be nice to e/o and i enjoy writing that way too much methinks. explicit sexual content (penetrative s*x, unprotected s*x, c*wgirl position, d*ggy, shower s*x, cre*mpie, dirty talk) idk what happened but there is angst here

note: due to popular demand here is pt 2 🤩🤩 i actually kinda have more ideas for this universe tbh and would love to go thru with it but it def depends so dont expect anything!! anywho. hope u enjoy!!!!! its unedited tho will fix later

index: part 1 | pt. 2

jeon jk. (bighit) [10:25pm]: im stressed i need to eat you out  jeon jk. (bighit) [10:50pm]: whats taking u so long to answer?  jeon jk. (bighit) [10:58pm]: will it kill you to reply

you [11:31pm]: shut up i just got off class 

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:32pm]: who gets off class at 12 fucking midnight  jeon jk. (bighit) [11:33pm]: are you fucking ur professor again jeon jk. (bighit) [11:36pm]: who was that. kim namjin. the lame ass linguistics prpfessor

you [11:40pm]: kim namjoon* and if im fucking him again whats it to you?  you [11:40pm]: hes not lame and hes got a bigger dick than you 

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:41pm]: yeah by like 0.05 inch. 

you [11:43pm]: if thats what makes you sleep at night ig 

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:44pm]: funny bcs who did you come back to after all that? def not namjan

you [11:46pm]: only bcs u send me stupid shit like “im stressed need to eat u out” when u dont get to fuck me 

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:46pm]: youre infuriating as hell

you [11:46pm]: I literally do not care. 

Your doorbell rings for the second time. Rolling your eyes, you let out a loud sigh and drop your highlighter on your book, dragging your feet to the doorway and opening it against your will. 

“What the fuck took so long?” Is what Jungkook welcomes you with, taking off his black mask aggressively and stepping inside the threshold without you even inviting him inside.

You lock the door again, watching as Jungkook expertly navigates the space of your apartment, used to the way he heads to the kitchen with ease where he places the – you noticed it just now – bags of take-out on the counter. 

“I told you, I can’t get into anything right now. I have to study for a test.” You cross your arms under your chest, following him. You stop by the counter across Jungkook, looking at him as he opens your fridge to get a bottle of water. 

He’s worn all black from head to toe for obvious reasons because you live downtown and near Gangnam, and there’s no way nobody would recognize him if he didn’t get into any disguise. 

Jungkook turns to you once he’s chugged the rest of the drink, leaning onto the counter, brow raised as he says, “Who said we have to get into anything right now?” 

You shoot him a mirrored look.

“We only see each other for sex. And we can’t have sex tonight. I need to spell it out for you?” 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gestures to the food on the counter and begins shrugging off his leather jacket and cap. 

“Eat. You look pale.” 

“Jungkook—”

He furrows his brows. “Is it that time of the month? Why are you so mouthy more than usual?” 

“Fuck off.” You flip him off which makes him chuckle. It takes you aback a little. 

“See. You’re irritable because you haven’t eaten yet. So what if you have to study? Eat first. I’ll help you with your flashcards later, then we’ll have sex. Easy.” 

“Who are you and why are you telling me what to do?” You bite back.

“Because you’ll probably die at 27 if I wasn’t constantly reminding you of eating your meals,” Jungkook shrugs and starts tearing off the tapes on the take-out food. “And you like having sex with me. So.” You purse your lips, making a small scoffing sound, prompting Jungkook to glance at you. “Yeah?” He quirks a brow with a hint of a smile on his lips.

You frown. “You’re cocky.” 

“You get me hard when we argue. Save it for later.” He says, as if chastising you and redirecting your attention again to the food. 

You roll your eyes again, annoyed that there’s a weird feeling in your stomach about the whole exchange and your mouth muscles are itching to curl up a little at his… stupidity. It irritates you, the way Jungkook goes through life in an easy-going way because he knows exactly who he is. 

You almost let out a moan as you start digging in the chicken he bought, feeling relieved to finally have something. Jungkook was only half-exaggerating when he said he had to tell you to eat, because most of the time you really forget all about it.

Today was one of those days… you didn’t have to clock in at the company on Fridays but your classes go from 5 to 9pm which drains the hell out of you. Waking up midday means not bothering to eat… and aside from the bagel and coffee you grabbed at the cafe earlier, you haven’t consumed real food. 

“I don’t like this.” you suddenly say. 

“What?”

You look up at him. He still looks weird. 

“That.” you point at his general direction. He raises a brow, growing confused. “You look happy. I’m not sure if I like that.”

“Ouch.” 

You can’t help yourself. You laugh at his completely blank face. Cutting yourself off completely, you clear your throat.

“It’s weird. Why?” 

“I smile and it just… what? Ruins your day?” 

“Yeah.” 

Jungkook laughs out loud. “You’re infuriating.” 

You hum, weirdly satisfied with that.

Jungkook has been over your apartment many times because as much as his place is way nicer, you don’t like going there. Too risky, too many eyes. Too… scary. You know Jungkook improves his security every three months, as sad as it sounds, but still. You don’t feel comfortable going there, probably why you refused to use the keycard he’s given you. You do fuck a lot in your studio, though, or in the empty rooms over at the company, but when you’re not, Jungkook and you drive here. It’s almost safe to assume that Jungkook knows this place already like the back of his hand.

Probably because whatever the hell this is between you has been going on for eight months now.

After Jungkook and you inhaled every last bit of the food (because he was apparently starving as well), true to his words, he actually did help you study a bit. But that didn’t really last when Jungkook suddenly had his fingers in you thirty minutes later. 

One moment you were talking about phonological change and sound laws, the next thing you know, you’re cumming on his fingers, while Jungkook sits on the edge of your bed frantically helping you straddle him. Meanwhile, half of your clothes are forming a heap on the floor as you heavily make out with each other. 

“F-fuck,”

Jungkook sighs when the tip of his cock finally enters your pussy as you slowly push down on him, thighs clenching at the way he’s stretching you out. 

You gasp when you fully sit on him, open mouths breathing against each other. 

“Oh, fuck, you’re so b-big–”

And you might never really get used to it, no matter how many times you do it.

You let out a shaky moan when you feel Jungkook’s dick twitching inside you, opening your eyes only to see him already staring right at you. 

“You okay to move?” He rasps, the veins in his arms telling you he’s trying to hold back. 

You nod eagerly, placing your palms on his shoulders and preparing yourself to go up. Your slick from the foreplay doesn’t make the stretch of his cock fully burn, making it a little easier for you to slide out and bounce back down on him until you’re repeating the movement faster, with Jungkook taking a hold of of your breasts, squeezing the flesh tightly in his huge palms. He groans, leaning down to capture your nipples, biting the pearls a little too rough you whimper a little too loud. 

“O-oh—! Not too rough, Jeon.” You whine, grabbing the back of his head. Jungkook looks at you with brows raised, rightfully confused ‘cause you usually like it when he’s rough with you. You bite your lip, continuing to ride him. “Just a little sensitive. My period’s next week.” 

Jungkook nods understandingly, squeezing your chest again, quite apologetically might you say so. He licks over a nipple, this time considerably more gentle with it. 

“How’s this for a studying session?” 

“N-not bad,” You bite your lip when you feel your thighs quivering, already starting to run out of breath, digging your nails in Jungkook’s shoulders. His hands travel down to your hips, where he grips it tight and starts guiding your ministration, literally bouncing you up and down on him. “Ahh– fuck.” you moan, shutting your eyes close at the delicious sensation of his engorged cock touching every part of your pussy. 

You’re dripping on him, both of your bated breaths filling your room as he picks up your own pace. 

“You – fuck – enjoy riding my cock like this?” He suddenly cups your jaw, making you look at him. The sides of your eyes sting with unshed tears, whimpering when his dick slips out of you when you try to go down again. Both of you look at it, with Jungkook quickly helping you put it back in, moaning in unison when it enters you again. You tighten your grip on him, soft sighs falling out of your mouth. But Jungkook suddenly lets out a quiet tsk, looking at you with furrowed brows as he says, “Answer me.” 

“Y-you know.” you say, mirroring his look. You start rocking back and forth instead, heightening the pleasure. 

With the way Jungkook’s face contorts, you know the new movement feels just as good for him. 

But he suddenly thrusts from under you, grabbing the back of your hair – the stretch on your scalp didn’t hurt, but it’s enough to make you gasp.

“Why do you gotta be such a fuckin’ brat, huh?” Jungkook groans, guiding your face closer to his. “You act like this around— who’s that guy again? Professor Kim?” 

You bite your lip to prevent yourself from smiling at that. You knew he was gonna bring that up one way or another. You and Professor Kim fucked that one time — okay maybe two times when Jungkook and you had this weird cool-off thing going on four months ago, and he made sure to remind you of it every singe chance he got. 

“No,” you firmly say, leveling him with a look, still keeping your pace on his cock. “He likes it when I’m a good girl.” 

Jungkook’s expression darkens, and you moan when his grip on your hair tightens. 

“You’re far from a good girl, sweetheart. But he wouldn’t know that ‘cause he only got to fuck you twice.”

“Y-yeah? You sure it’s not more tha—” 

Jungkook cuts you off with a hot, angry kiss. Your teeth cling together, and with the aggressive way he inserts his tongue into you unprompted, you know he’s getting a little heated. 

It’s juvenile, but you take a little pride in how much it's so easy for you to piss him off. 

But one second you’re sharing a searing kiss, the next moment you feel a sting on your bottom lip. 

“Oh—! What the fuck!” You push Jungkook away so hard he unceremoniously plops down on the mattress, bringing you down with him. You manage to support yourself with his hard chest, looking at him with bewildered eyes, touching your bottom lip. The fucker just bit it. 

Jungkook lets himself rest against the mattress, gripping your thighs instead. 

“He’s fucking weird for fucking his student, by the way.” he says, apparently still not done talking about Kim Namjoon. His hands have made their way from your legs to your breasts, but you whisk them away, shooting him a glare.

“You’re a dick,” you jab at his chest, making him let out a slightly pained “Oh!”, soon exchanged with a grunt of pleasure when you reach for his cock behind you to sit on it again, grinding against it. You lean on his chest, keeping your daggers on him. “You can say whatever you want but you can’t blame Prof Kim for fucking his student.” 

Jungkook immediately scoffs. Because you refuse to have anything to do with his hands, he crosses them under his head, eyes casting a glance down where you meet, darkening when you roll your hips against him deliciously.

“He’s a person in power. That gotta be unethical.” 

You roll your eyes almost automatically. 

“So you wouldn’t fuck me if I was your student, then?” you raise your brow, taking note of the obvious surprise coloring Jungkook’s face. 

But he quickly shuts it down with a smug response.

“I would just have to look at other professors to fuck. Especially at SNU? Have you seen the women professors there?” There’s a bite to it, and the smirk on his lips heighten that. Like he’s telling you he has way more options than you – and those options can come easy for him. If he wants to. 

“See how you’re not fucking any one of them? Exactly.” you retort. 

Jungkook snorts. “I don’t have to,” He removes his hands from his head. “Besides, I fucked Hana before in a professor outfit. Does that count?” 

You grit your teeth together at the mention of Hana. She’s a friend of yours, also an idol like Jungkook. You actually do have a lot of friends in the industry, and coincidentally, Jungkook has fucked most of them. 

“What’s the matter? Don't like the reminder that much?” Jungkook grins. “I remember Jiyeon being in the same position as you now. She really loves riding my dick. Kind of like you. You two really are friends, huh?” 

Kim Jiyeon, a member of a famous group in the country. Another one of your friends and one of Jungkook’s on and off hook-ups too. You don’t know if they still do it from time to time – as far as you know, they ended just as you two began. But you don’t ask either, don’t really care at all. 

But it’s funny since you remember him saying awhile ago he hasn’t fucked anybody other than you in a long time. Was that a lie? 

“Sure. Don’t feel special though, I rode Jaehyun exactly this way. Went at it for hours because my pussy just gets so wet for him.” 

You relish the fact that Jungkook’s smile immediately falls off his face when you say that. But that victory only lasted for a brief moment when he spoke his next words. 

“You have a dirty mouth on you, I’ll give you that. Shin’s was dirtier, though. Gives crazy head too.” 

You don’t really know why he’s mentioning all your idol friends, but fine. If he wants to play that game, you’ll give it to him. 

“Don’t you just love a crazy head? Mingyu gave me one when we finally went out on a date, and I still think about it,” You made sure to grind against his cock painfully slowly, making a show of moaning out loud. “Oh god,”

Thankfully, that shuts Jungkook up. 

“So he did ask you out.” Jungkook says, and it sounds so… firm. You can’t even recognize the look on his face. 

“Yes.” 

He goes quiet after that, but his hands on your waist are tight. 

Like nothing happened, you continue riding him – and maybe because you talked too much that the momentum got killed, but suddenly, you stop your ministration.

Jungkook’s brows furrow, about to say something. Just as when he opens his mouth to speak, you get off him, leaving him astounded on your bed with his dick still stiff and hard against his abdomen.

“What the hell?” 

“I’m going to take a shower.” you say nonchalantly, already heading to your bathroom. 

“Seriously?” Jungkook says, the disbelief in his tone palpable. “I’m still hard and I haven’t even cum yet.” 

You look back at him. “You can take care of that.” 

Jungkook gestures with his hand. “Are you fucking kidding– you’re serious?”

You turn away and go straight to the bathroom, locking the door and immediately turning the shower on – aggressively so.

You’re not mad, is what you tell yourself. You know you started it when you goaded Jungkook about Namjoon. But you also shouldn’t have taken the bait, because Jungkook is competitive in all areas that affects his huge, dumb ego. 

Well, fuck him. Figuratively this time. You can’t believe you let him in your place tonight. You can’t even fucking remember what you were reading earlier, because his stupid horny brain decided it was okay to finger you when you were memorizing the mor—

“What the—!” 

You look at Jungkook in shock when he suddenly barges in the shower, all naked just like you and goes under the stream too, looking just as pissed as you left him.

“I know where you keep your keys and you can’t just walk out on me like that,” He turns off the shower and you’re about to complain when he suddenly looks at you again, brows furrowing and tone a little dark when he says, “So what? You play this little I’m-fucking-other-people-and-not-just-you games on me every fucking time and expect me to just take it? When I decide to ride along you get a little pissy and act like a child?” 

Your jaw slacks, not expecting the call-out. Jungkook steps closer to you, heavy footsteps sounding like a ticking clock above your head. You’ve always known he’s muscly, and much much taller and bigger than you, but his presence especially looms over you when he’s obviously heated like this.

Your backward steps are futile when he only takes steps forward, until you feel the glass wall on your back. 

Jungkook follows, and even though his hands are wet from the water, warmth spread through your body when he takes you roughly by the waist.

“Now you have nothing to say because you know I’m right,” he rasps. You whimper when he presses his body to you, his dick flatly rigid against your stomach, the tip aching red when you glance down to look at it. Jungkook clicks his tongue against his cheek, cupping your cheek to redirect your face to him. “Turn around.” 

He doesn’t even bother hearing you out, just manhandles you around himself. You suppress a moan when he rests his dick against the cleft of your ass, his body heat spreading within you when he leans down to whisper in your ear, “You know what’s funny? Your mouth looks adorably small when it’s stuffed with my cock, but it sure is big enough when you run it just to piss me off.” 

Your thighs clench at his words. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look back at him. “S-so what are you gonna do about it?” 

Jungkook raises a brow. “The best option is to put my dick in it but you’d be way too happy with that.” 

You roll your eyes. “You’re so full of yourself—” 

“God, can you shut up for even just a minute?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes again.

“Can you just fuck me and get this whole thing over with?” 

You don’t expect the slap in your ass that comes after that. Looking back at Jungkook with a gasp, you’re about to voice out a complaint when he suddenly inserts a finger in you, cutting your train of thought. 

He slowly eases out of your pussy, but shoves his digit back in, settling with a steady pace in and out. 

“Look at you, you’re a cockslut. You like when I’m mean to you, that’s why you piss me off, right?” He says, nibbling on your ear. 

You whimper when he adds another finger, moaning at the sensation. Jungkook picks up his pace, and your lewd sounds bounce off the shower stall as you start feeling the hot coil in your stomach. 

“J-jungkook,” 

“Hm?” 

“I want– more.” You say, looking at him with your mouth agape, tears forming in the sides of your eyes. Your thighs feel like giving out, and you feel so empty even though he’s two fingers in it’s almost criminal. 

“Say it. What do you want?” 

You fight the urge to flip him off, but your tone is still snarky when you simply say, “Dick.”

He chuckles, sending shivers down your spine. “Whose dick? And what’s the magic word?” 

You shut your eyes close, grinding your teeth in quiet anger.

“Your dick and please.” You say in the most monotonous voice you could ever muster. 

You fully expectd Jungkook to prolong the moment a little longer, but fucking finally, you see him stroking his dick a few moments later, shaking his head and chuckling lowly when he adjusts your position against his crotch. 

“You whine and I give you what you want. Aren’t you too spoiled, princess?” He says, aligning the head to your oussy until you feel the tip slowly entering you. 

You inhale, relief of having his cock back inside you washing over you. 

“Y-you love giving me what I want.” You retort back, pushing yourself on him, careful to keep a tight balance on the glass before you even though Jungkook’s got a tight hold on your waist with his other hand. 

He only hums, and soon he thrusts inside with no warning – but it’s a pleasant stretch when it happens, a loud moan escaping your mouth from the sudden movement. 

“O-oh god!” you yelp when he begins sliding in out of you at a fast pace, gushing as he kept on giving it to you.

You try to keep your voice low but Jungkook’s stretching you out so well, his thrusts so precise and forceful, dick growing impossibly bigger every passing second. 

Soon, the cramped shower stall is fogged, with nothing but your heavy breaths and moans and groans filling the air, Jungkook beating your pussy with speedy trusts your breasts are starting to hurt from the jiggling – thank god that Jungkook decided to fondle them with his palms, squeezing and holding, flicking your nipples every now and then. 

“It’s–shit–it’s only me who gets to see you like this, begging for my cock because you fucking love it so much,” Jungkook says against your neck. “So fucking wet, such greedy pussy – and it’s mine, right?” You only whimper, but that obviously does not make Jungkook happy. With a forceful tug on your hair, he makes you look at him. “Answer me when I talk to you, baby, or you’re not gonna cum.” 

“Y-yes!” 

He hums, slowing down to give you a slow, purposeful trust. 

“I don’t care who else you fuck, __. Because at the end of the day, it’s me you come back to.” 

You could almost cry by the way he’s going so slow that you feel almost every ridge of his cock, but it feels so good. He’s so big and hits all the right spots, even when he talks shit.  

“Shit.” he hisses before speeding up again, and you can feel fhe tell tale sign of his orgasm when his rhythym becomes uncoordinated for a bit of a moment, groaning a little loider than usual, until one of his hands on your waist let go to squeeze his dick in your pussy.

“I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook says with heavy breaths, staggering a little. “Where can I cum?”

“Inside.” you say, “Please cum inside. I need it, Kook. Cum inside me.”

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah. Please. Need it. Need it so bad.” you bite your lip, feeling a little delirious. 

When Jungkook moans a little louder, that’s when you feel the hot liquid running down your legs. It makes your pussy flutter, whimpering when Jungkook inserts his cock in you to push his cum back again, stuffing you with his cum. 

“So damn pretty… fuck,” Jungkook whispers, rubbig the base of his cock against your lips. 

“Kook–”

He doesn’t let you say any more, just creeps his finger in your pussy, thumb rubbing your clit in eights. And because you’ve been basically edged as well, it doesn’t take too long for you to follow him, cumming down hard. 

Jungkook helps you get up, lets you rest your back against him as you try to regain your mobility, chest heaving up and down.

It’s weirdly calming when he runs his hands over your body, caressing your stomach and squeezing your tits as you both come down from your high. 

“You okay?” Jungkook whispers against your head. You nod. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it.” 

You’re about to ask if he plans on showering as well, but you stop yourself before you can even say it out loud, looking at his disappearing figure when he walks out of the shower box and the bathroom altogether. 

It takes you a moment to start the shower again. 

But it was only a quick one, and you didn’t exactly think about where Jungkook would’ve gone by the time you're finished, but once you’ve emerged in your bedroom again, you see him pulling up his pants, buckling his belt. 

“You’re leaving?” You say, pausing. Then you realize it came out kind of weird, so you try to scratch that. Glancing at your alarm clock by the bedside table, you clear your throat. “I mean, it’s 3 am.” 

Jungkook looks up at you. “Yeah. I have practice at 6.” 

“Ah.” you nod, blinking at him. You head to your closet, picking out your clothes for the night. “You have three hours left. Tough.” 

Jungkook snorts. You can hear him shuffling behind you while you wore another clean camisole and shorts. When you turn around, Jungkook’s dressed now in his black shirt and jeans. His cap and jacket are in the living room, so he'll probably just grab them when he heads out. 

When you plop down on the bed, you watch as Jungkook picks up his wallet and his phone, stuffing them in his pockets. You thought he’d leave by then, but he suddenly speaks. 

“Hey.” He calls. You raise your brow at him to continue. Jungkook pauses for a moment, looking a bit unsure. Before you can ask, he finally says something. “You can fuck Kim Namjoon or whoever you like,” he starts, staring intently at you. “Just tell me beforehand so we can sort it out.” 

A few beats. 

Jungkook doesn’t follow it up with anything, and nor do you say anything quickly to that. 

The silence sounds way too loud. 

“Okay.” Is what you settle with. Jungkook stares at you a little longer than necessary, so you arch your brow. “What? Anything else before you leave?” 

It takes Jungkook awhile to say, “Nothing.” 

“Okay… and uh, thanks for bringing food.” 

He arches a brow, lips curling up a little. You squint your eyes, rolling it when he gives you a knowing smile. 

“Good night, I guess?” Jungkook lamely offers. 

You nod. “It’s 3 am but okay.”

“You can’t tell me good night, too?” Jungkook says. 

“Uh, have a good sleep and sweet dreams?” you say with the flattest tone and face. 

He scoffs, but he looks amused. “You can be a little more sincere than that.” 

You wave him off. Jungkook shakes his head, turning on his heels to head out the door. 

“Jungkook.” 

His hands around the door handle pauses mid-air to look at you. 

You look away. 

“Mingyu did ask me out,” you start. 

Jungkook’s face is unreadable when he says, “I didn’t ask.”

You shake your head. “No, I know you didn't, I just–” you sigh. “That was a week ago. I just want to say that… nothing happened.” 

It takes awhile for Jungkook to understand. 

“So…”

You lied. About the head or whatever the hell you said about Mingyu and you together. Mingyu was a nice guy, and the date was also really nice. But it just… didn’t work out. 

“Yeah.” is what you settled with. 

You don’t really know what you expected from him, but he just nods. 

“Alright.” 

That was the last thing he said when he walked out of your door. 

You look away, grabbing your phone to check some notification. There’s something on instagram, and there’s a message from Yoongi. Some mp3 file. Music stuff, you guess. And there’s one from Yena too, a member of a rookie female group over at the company who’s getting into songwriting. 

When you lie down to sleep, you feel empty.

[historicity-was-already-taken]

Can’t sleep, and, as is my wont, I fell down a horrifying internet rabbit hole,* this time about September 11, 2001.

I was in seventh grade French class, in the Hudson Valley region of New York, when I got a call from the front office that my mom was there to pick me up. Steven B. commented: “a lot of people are getting picked up this morning!”

My mom was crying, she tried to explain what had happened, but I think my brain kind of rejected what she was saying. I didn’t really get it/appreciate what happened until I was 19 or 20, when I was a collections management intern at the 9/11 Memorial Museum before it opened to the public.

That’s when I finally Got It and everything I’d been repressing. Every year after that I would watch the live news footage from that day on YouTube.

It haunts me, not just because of what happened, but because of what it led to. How much pain, how much grief, how much suffering and war and genocide could have been averted if the FBI and the CIA hadn’t been locked in a power struggle? Where would/could the country be politically if the two orgs had compared intelligence and intervened?

As a historian, I think it’s important avoid binary thinking like “oh a, b, and c happened and that’s why Elon Musk is staging a coup.” It’s obviously much more complex than that. What’s occurring in the USA Federal government is the result of decades of careful GOP planning and strategizing and if we can isolate a cultural moment that “led” to it, it would be the election of Ronald Reagan, and even that is far too simplistic.

Idk, I’m rambling. I don’t consider myself to be old, but it’s almost like I refused to grasp what had happened that day in 2001 because I was cognizant of the fact that something massive, something of global historic import, had just gone down, and my 12 yo brain couldn’t deal with it.

But now I’m 35 and I saw history. And that was the end, I think of the world the Baby Boom generation raised their millennial kids to thrive in.

At some point I binge watched Fringe, and that shot where it’s revealed that Leonard Nimoy is in the parallel universe because the camera pans out and it’s revealed that his office is in one of the WTC towers? I couldn’t breathe for a minute.

*once in grad school the rabbit hole was the genocide in the Balkans in the 90s and everything I read that night is seared into my brain.

ETA: I’m intentionally not discussing that things I saw and learned working for the museum, and my feelings about the deaths which occurred that day. It feels almost…unholy to talk about that stuff online. I don’t believe in god or a higher power, but “holy” is the only word that makes sense there.

[jeanscowgirl]

unfinished

jean kirstein x reader college au, ex!jean kirstein x reader

warnings: smut, exes, college au, cocky jean, mean(?) jean, (idk what else)

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Jean Kirstein. The boy in your college French class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. 11-12:30 pm.

He sat a row in front of you with a few of his friends. He was incredibly cocky but smart, he was the smartest in the class. You hated him.

Yes, there was one time you two hooked up at a party your sophomore year in college.

And the time you were his girlfriend for 6 months after that…

But, nothing ever happened again. You two left it behind you.

After all, you hated him and he was a dick and he’s your ex boyfriend.

Regardless…

You took this class to get your language credit out of the way and it was your hardest class this semester. You were smart, you had good grades but Jean was better. This irked you so so so much.

You were used to being #1 in everything. Sports, music, and school. When you met Jean it changed.

Even when the two of you dated, there was always this competitive nature between you two. Some may say this is what caused the fall out of you two.

Jean broke up with you in a brutal way, at least that’s how you felt at the time.

“I’m sorry, I found someone else,” the words that would cloud your thoughts forever, along with the image of the new girl standing directly next to him.

Jean rarely spoke to you after that, and if he did, it was to brag about how he got a better grade than you.

It's Thursday, 11:15 am, your professor had just handed back the exam you had taken last Thursday. The professor gets to Jean first, then you. You don’t look up to see Jean’s reaction, you don’t care. Right?

He hands you your exam, you look at the top of the page, 75%. C. In BIG fat red ink.

“Fuck” you mutter under your breath because what the fuck is this score?

Unfortunately for you, Jean hears you. He turns around to look at you, “So what score did you get, Y/n?”

“Fuck off Jean,” You tell him, fed up already. It's not even noon.

You never get C’s. Your worst grade was an 85% and THAT was pushing it for you. You were distraught over a C.

“Well, I got a 98%, was a pretty tough exam,” He gives you the most condescending smirk you have ever seen.

You ignore him, you always try to ignore him. But, that never stops him. Jean is relentless.

You hate him.

“Y/n cmonn, just tell me what you got, I won’t judge” Now he’s leaning on your desk space, pissing you off even more.

“I said fuck off Jean.” And lucky for you, the professor starts class. Unable to hear his voice for a second more.

12:30 comes a lot quicker than you realize. Your professor dismisses class so you try to pack up as quickly as possible to avoid him.

You begin to walk out of class when someone grabs your backpack, “Hey. Stop, we weren’t done talking earlier.”

“Jean would you please just leave me alone,” You try to walk away

“Aw someones in a bad mood,” The same condescending smirk from before making another appearance. You roll your eyes and continue walking away, “Hey, wait for real. I can help you study!”

You freeze and slowly turn around, his proposal pissing you off more than ever. “I do not need YOUR help Jean.”

“Well you clearly did worse than me, my bad for trying to help, bitch,”

Before you could turn around, he was gone.

THREE WEEKS LATER

It had been three weeks since the last interaction between you and Jean. The last thing he said to you, was calling you a bitch.

It was Thursday again and you were getting another exam back. Same as three weeks ago, the professor gave Jean his test, then yours. You look at the top of your exam, hoping for a better score than last time.

65%. D. In Big. Red. Ink.

You gave no reaction this time. However, you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Embarrassed. How could this happen?

You studied, you did everything you were supposed to. What wasn’t clicking?

“Y/n.” You look up from your paper to see your professor, “See me after class please,”

Jean hears this and starts giggling in front of you when your professor says, “You too Kirstein,”

Fuck. This time said internally.

12:30 doesn’t come quickly. Time DRAGS and you are only getting more anxious. It is agonizing sitting here so long. Waiting and waiting for what your professor will possibly say to the both of you.

You’re not paying attention, you’re not taking notes.

“Class is dismissed,”

That wakes you out of your trance, and you start to pack up your belongings. Everyone files out of the classroom except for you and Jean. You both walk up to the professor’s desk.

“So, Y/n, you’ve been struggling a lot more than the rest of the class the past few weeks, and I don’t know what's going on but I know you’re better than this,”

Ouch.

“Jean, I am asking that you please meet with Y/n at least once a week to assist her with this class. I’m hoping you will help me out here as you are the best in this class, somehow,”

This is not what you wanted. Not ever in a million years. You hate Jean. Right?

Yes. You hated him.

You try to argue with him but he quickly shuts it down, “Y/n you’re going to graduate next semester and you need this class to do so, I wouldn’t argue,”

“No problem, I’ll help her,” Jean tells your professor, oddly calm.

“Thank you Jean, you two are dismissed,”

You walk out of the classroom, tears welling up in your eyes yet again. Forced to work with your ex boyfriend, the asshole who shattered your heart.

You were pissed.

“Y/n wait I need your number,” Jean calls after you.

You sigh and stop walking, you compose yourself and turn around, “You shouldn’t need it, it's the same as before,”

“I uh, I don’t have it anymore,” He tells you.

For some reason this aches your heart a bit but why would he keep your number? He broke up with you for someone else.

“Oh my bad, here,” And you give him your number.

“I’ll text you later okay?” He is being oddly nice. You’re growing very wary.

You ignore him and walk away, going to your apartment for the rest of the day.

A FEW HOURS LATER

You’re sitting at your desk getting some homework done when your phone buzzes, you pick it up to see the promised message from Jean.

My apartment, tomorrow night, 7 pm. You know where I live, that work for you?

Ugh, he was actually going to help you. And at his apartment, where he lives alone.

Maybe his girlfriend will be there to keep an eye on him. Whatever.

You respond back with a quick thumbs up emoji. Ending the convo as fast as possible.

THE NEXT NIGHT 6:30 PM

You’re getting ready to study. You’re wearing nothing special, just a crewneck sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. You are not making an effort for this man.

You’re about to leave, making sure you have everything you need for this dreaded study session.

No makeup but you DID take an everything shower. For no reason in particular. At least that's what you’re telling yourself.

After a short car ride, you arrive at his apartment complex. The same apartment complex you used to be at almost every day for six months of your life.

You text Jean that you’re here so he can let you in. You grab your backpack and make the walk up to his apartment.

He lets you in as soon as you get there, almost like he was waiting for you.

He has no shirt on and just a pair of shorts. Of course he had no shirt on. He was basically a slut after all. Same slut who broke your heart, you remind yourself.

“You can sit over there on the couch, do you want anything?” He asks you.

“No, I’m fine.” You walk over to the couch and sit.

After a few minutes, he walks over to the couch to sit with you, but now he has a shirt on, damn.

“So, how can I help you with French?” A certain smirk growing on his face.

“You can’t,” You respond back in a pissy tone.

He sighs, “Then why did you come here Y/n?”

“I was forced to Jean.” You tell him matter of factly.

“No, you weren’t. It was just a suggestion.” He is still so oddly calm.

“Whatever,” You hiss back.

He sighs again, “You can leave, but I know you won’t”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask with your eyes widened.

“Nothing, just tell me what you need help with Y/n”

You pull out your notebook and French textbook, “To be honest, I don’t even know where I’m messing up,”

“Okay, let me see your notes,” You hand him your notebook. “Y/n. There aren’t any notes in here.”

“Oh, I must’ve given you the wrong notebook,” And that you did. You gave him your journal. And before you realized it, it was too late. He was flipping through the pages.

And then he starts reading them, “Oh! I hate Jean Kirstein. Damn, tell me how you really feel,”

You gasp, realizing what you had given him, “Please stop Jean,”

He laughs, “No thank you, this is interest- oh…” His pause terrifies you. “Jean is a fucking slut,” He reads out loud.

You quickly try to defend yourself, “Listen Jean, that was a long time ago, I was hurt over the break up, god I shouldn’t even be here,”

“No no Y/n, I think you’re exactly where you need to be actually,” The cockiness begins to come out.

He inches closer to you, putting his hand on your thigh. You’re already aching. You’ve missed his touch so much.

“Jean, don’t you have a girlfriend?” You ask breathlessly.

He laughs, “No, broke up with her a long time ago,”

As his hand is still trailing, you try to get words out without moaning. You’re able to ask, “Why?” before he grips your thigh causing you to let out a small moan, one you’ve been trying so hard to contain.

He moves closer to your face, “She wasn’t you,” he tells you before kissing you. You kiss back, you can’t help it. It felt so natural.

One hand is on your jaw, forcing you to look at him, the other is touching your clothed area.

At this point, all hatred for him is out the window, you need more.

Still looking at you, you start to grind against his hand, begging for more friction.

This makes him laugh and pull his hand away, “Slow down Y/n, thought you hated me,”

“I-I” You try to get out.

“I-I” He mocks you, “C’mon Y/n, be a big girl,”

You don’t respond, he has barely touched you and you’re already a whimpering mess.

“Some things never change, huh?”

He lays you down on the couch and hovers over you, “Tell me what you want,”

You don’t respond, you just look up at him with glossy eyes.

“I thought you missed me though baby,” He teases you.

“I-I never said that,” But somehow here you are, under him.

He gets closer and grabs your jaw again, “Oh yeah? What about the part in your journal that says I miss Jean and the way he fucks me. What about that?”

You’re silent again, he takes notice.

“Exactly baby, so tell me, what do you want?”

“I want you to touch me,”

“Where? Use your words.” He puts part of your hair behind your ear, getting it out of your face.

“You know where, don’t make me say it,”

“Well then guess you’re not getting anything,”

“Wait, Jean please, I want you here,” You grab his hand and lead it to where he was before, still clothed.

“There we go, now let's get these off huh?” He pulls your sweatpants and panties off in the same motion, wasting zero time.

He teases your hole and slowly puts one finger in, you let out a moan. You hadn’t been touched since him.

“More,” You beg, “Please Jean one more,”

He listens and inserts two fingers, pumping in and out. This is so much for you, it had been a year and a half since he last touched you. It’s almost like you waited for him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He uses the nickname he always used to call you.

“Y-yes,” You say in between moans.

His long, thick fingers working into you, making you so incredibly weak. He is so amused by your reaction, almost like he was saving this for you. He puts one of your legs on his shoulder and continues fingering you at a fast pace. You can’t do anything but give him moan after moan.

“Such a good girl, always have been,”

He somehow is reaching all of the perfect spots, “Fuck Jean please,”

“Please what Y/n? Speak up baby,”

“I’m gonna- fuck i’m gonna cum,” But he stops.

“Not yet sweetheart,” With the same condescending smirk he’s been wearing for the last three weeks.

You whine objections but he doesn’t care. He sits you up so you’re no longer laying on the couch, he stands up and you start to get worried, “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere baby, relax,” he laughs a bit at your instant concern. He takes his shorts off and starts to take his shirt off as well. He sits back down on the couch, leans over to you, and takes off your shirt, “Wow, still as gorgeous as I remember,”

He lifts you up a bit and sits you down on his lap, not putting himself in just yet.

He’s big and he knows it, people don’t call him a horse for nothing.

“We don’t have to do this Y/n, if this is going too far, tell me,”

“No, please, I want to Jean, I’ve wanted to,”

“Okay baby, tell me if it gets too much, safe word is red,” The same safe word as before.

He kisses your forehead and sits you down on his cock. The feeling is almost instant, the both of you moaning in pleasure.

“Fuck, I forgot how good your pussy is, feels so good,”

You’re a mess already and he isn’t even all the way in.

He finally stretches you out, sitting you down all the way, making you start to tear up. You hadn’t been fucked since him. Jean notices the tears welling up in your eyes, “Oh no, is my baby crying?”

It’s sweet but as usual, condescending. “You can take it Y/n, I know you can” he reminds you, wiping the tears from your eyes.

He makes you do zero work, he’s holding your hips, moving you up and down at the perfect speed. Your arms around his neck, gripping his mullet.

He’s hitting your spot perfectly. He always did.

“J-Jean, I think I-“ You start to tell him.

He stops.

“W-what, Jean please.” You whine, your voice is desperate. You ARE desperate.

“Sorry baby, maybe you can cum once you study some French.” The stupid smirk is back.

He still has you sat on his cock. Your head buried into his neck. You try to move to get some sort of friction.

“Don’t.” He warns

So, you stop.

He picks up your French book and starts asking you questions.

You get an answer wrong? SMACK

You get an answer right? He lifts your hips, and slams you down on his cock, hard.

This goes on until your basically fucked out. You’ve cried, begged, whined, everything in the last hour. But you still haven’t cum. Jean is antagonizing you.

“Okay Y/n, one more question. If you get it right, you can cum.” He’s rubbing your back, consoling you. He feels slightly bad for the game he’s put on.

“How do you say ‘I love you’ in French?”

This wasn’t on any test, especially this late into the semester, “Je t'aime” You answer.

“Good girl,” He picks you up and lays you down on the couch. “You okay Y/n?”

Still very dazed and confused, you shake your head yes instead of verbally answering.

Jean notices.

He leaves the room and is back shortly after with some of his clothes. He dresses you in a big t shirt and some shorts.

“Hey, look at me,” he tells you, “You’re okay” He holds you in his arms. The cockiness completely disappearing. He had a soft spot for you deep down. “I’m sorry for being a little rough,”

“It’s alright Jean, I’m okay.” You let him hold you.

“Listen Y/n, I really missed you”

“Jean I-“

“You don’t have to say anything, just stay with me tonight,”

“Okay, Jean”

You stayed with Jean for the night. You missed him too. You never really hated him.

But was it smart to be there?

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

part 2

[cosmerelists]

Should You Copy These Cosmere Characters' Homework?

[Teacher voice] Of course, you should NEVER actually copy someone's homework, but... if you WERE going to copy someone's homework and you happened to be in the same class as these Cosmere characters, would it be a good idea to copy their homework in particular?

1. Dalinar: No

You tried it once. Dalinar told you that it's okay to fail sometimes, as long as you do better next time. Then he patted you on the shoulder and walked away. It was a little bit infuriating.

2. Elend: Yes

You know Elend's the smart kid in school. And he does kinda like to disobey authority too... As long as the teacher is a jerk, you should be safe asking Elend to help you pull one over on her.

3. Nale: No

Nale not only won't let you copy his homework, but he's telling the teacher you tried.

4. Renarin: Yes

If you ask Renarin if you can copy his homework, he'll end up helping you finish the homework instead. Not what you asked for or expected, but hey. At least it's done. The weird part is that he seemed like he was expecting this...

5. Painter: Sure

If you venture into the oddly dark corner where Painter is sitting and ask if you can borrow his homework, he'll say something like, "So...you were desperate enough to come to me?" But actually, his homework is pretty okay. He didn't pour his heart & soul into this assignment or anything, but that is a solid C right there.

6. Breeze: No

Breeze was kinda hoping to copy your homework so, you know, it's a little awkward now.

7. Siri: No

Siri also didn't do the homework. She's doing it right now, as fast as she possibly can, and she doesn't really have time for you at the moment.

8. Tress: Yes

Tress will want to help out, and her homework is gonna be in good shape, too. She also told you that she noticed you've seemed extra stressed and sad lately, so she made you this blueberry muffin. Y-You just met her last week!

9. Taravangian: No

There are only two ways this can play out. Either he says yes right away but the homework is horribly incorrect, or he says no and you just know that homework is perfect. There's no winning with this guy.

10. Shai: If you can afford it...

Shai has several copies of the homework, each different. Seriously, different handwriting, slightly different mistakes, different food stains....It's downright elaborate. She does charge a lot of money for one, though.

11. Steris: No

Steris' homework is done. It's perfect. But she's not gonna let you copy it, so.

12. Adolin: Yes

Adolin's homework won't be perfect (for one thing, he can't read), but he'd still be happy to help out. It's probably kinda correct, right?

13. Vivenna: No

I mean, you can try, but she's keeping it covered and glaring at you with a truly terrifying expression.

14. Kaladin: No!

You'll give the poor guy a crisis of conscience! He'll want to help you because you're in need, but he won't want to help you because helping you would be cheating. Don't do that to our boy.

15. Shallan: Sure!

Shallan studies hard, and she doesn't judge. Just...ignore the weird drawing in the margin of the many-headed beasts consuming the world. I-It probably means nothing!

16. Moash: No

Moash will give you all the wrong answers. He'll happily fail this assignment if it means taking you down too!

17. Jasnah: No

The look she gives you when she calmly asks, "Oh, did you not do the homework?" will haunt you for weeks. It's just not worth it, man!

18. Sarene: It's risky...

With Sarene, you never can tell whether her homework will be pristinely correct...or whether she'll give you the most ridiculous joke-answers that will make your teacher hand back your paper with that really sad frowny face on it.

S-She still got 100%, though! Did she give you decoy homework??

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |5|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.9k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam had held Tara as she cried, it had been a long time since she got a hug from a member of her own family. Tara almost forgot how nice her big sisters’ hugs were. She had missed Sam like crazy, she still didn’t understand why she left. Tara thought Sam loved her, even when she was struggling, she always treated Tara well, but if she actually cared she wouldn’t have left. It seemed like Tara’s entire family left her at some point, her only constant was you.

Sam was pacing back and forth in front of her hospital bed. It seemed after their emotional reunion; Sam didn’t know how to act now. Tara wasn’t sure how to act either, she was curious where Sam had been, what she had been doing, why she left, it didn’t feel like the right time to bring any of that up though. She was also curious as to why Sam came back, Wes had called her and she came as soon as she learned Tara was hurt, that had to mean Sam cared about her, but if Sam only came back because she was hurt then that meant Sam didn’t actually want to come back.

“So,” Sam said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You and Y/N,” she nodded.

That quickly snapped Tara out of her thoughts. “Yeah, we’re together,” she said, taking on an edge in her voice. “What about it?”

“I just didn’t realize you two knew each other.” Sam’s eyes darted around the room, but Tara could tell Sam wasn’t thrilled about the idea of her relationship with you. “How’d you meet?”

“School,” Tara glared at her sister. She really didn’t appreciate the fact that Sam was gone for five years, left without notice, and was coming back trying to comment on her romantic relationship.

Sam’s eyes snapped to Tara. “She would have been a senior when you were a freshman.”

“Yeah,” Tara rolled her eyes. “We shared a class, we sat next to each other, had to do projects together.” Sam let out a little scoff, clearly not liking the sound of that. “It’s not like we started dating then,” Tara snapped. “We were school friends and then became actual friends the summer after sophomore year when we ended up working together.”

“Oh, you also worked together?” Sam couldn’t hold back her humorless chuckle, the judgement dripping from her voice.

“Yes,” Tara groaned. “Liv and I got summer jobs at the video store. Y/N already worked there and before you ask, they weren’t like my manager or anything.”

Sam closed her eyes, tilting her head to the ceiling. Tara glared at her sister, she hadn’t even been back five minutes and she was already judging her relationship with you. Tara really didn’t understand what the big deal was, you were amazing. The judgement from her friends, from her mom, from Judy, and now from Sam was so unnecessary. All those people claimed to care about Tara, so they should just be happy that you were so good to her, that you loved her and expected nothing from her.

“Don’t you think they’re a little old for you?” Sam sighed. She put a hand to her head as if she was trying to stop an oncoming headache. Tara wasn’t going to back down; Sam was the one who wanted the argument after all.

“Two years!” Tara scoffed, rolling her eyes. Sam opened her eyes, raising an eyebrow at Tara. “Practically three, whatever,” Tara rolled her eyes. Three years was hardly a big age difference.

“I know,” Sam let out a tired sigh. “You’re so young and they’re-where do they even work?”

Tara opened her mouth, the fire in her eyes was fueled solely by defending you. “The bar in town,” she mumbled.

“That’s just great!” Sam threw her hands in the air.

“It’s good money and they need to pay rent!”

“Oh, they have their own place as well, that’s great!” Sam clapped her hands together.

“They’re literally the only person who’s always there for me!” Tara snapped, glaring up at her sister. She didn’t care how much she missed Sam, she would not let Sam say anything bad about you or talk down about her relationship with you. “Even before we started dating, they were there for me, every time mom…” Tara aggressively wiped the tears that had started to fall.

Sam uncrossed her arms, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Tara I-”

“The only reason they’re staying at that that shitty job,” Tara didn’t allow her sister to speak. “Is to help save money, so when I graduate, we can get the hell out of this town.”

Sam’s head snapped up, looking at Tara with wide eyes. “You haven’t graduated yet?” Tara’s eyes fell to where her good hand was picking at the fabric of the hospital blanket.

“Why do you think I’m still here?” Tara asked quietly.

Sam blinked rapidly, shaking her head and gave a little shrug. “I don’t-I thought maybe you were pushing college a year, maybe putting it off because of mom, or Y/N-”

“I got held back,” Tara snapped. “I had to repeat junior year.”

“What?” Sam breathed out. Tara was sure she would have missed it if they weren’t the only two in the room.

“Mom wasn’t doing great,” Tara’s voice got smaller.  “I missed too many classes.” Tara watched as Sam closed her eyes and slumped back against the wall across from the hospital bed. “My relationship with Y/N was literally the only good thing to come out of that shitty year. When they saw me struggling, they helped as much as they could, whether it was making sure I had a ride to school or helping me deal with mom, if I needed something, no matter what it was, they were right there.”

Sam nodded; she kept her head pointed towards the floor. “That’s very nice of them.”

“I don’t know what version of them you knew.”  Sam finally looked up, meeting Tara’s eyes. “But, the one I know, is someone who would take time out of their day to bring me food, just to make sure I ate, they would stay up after working all day just to help me get all my homework done because they knew I couldn’t have any more missing assignments.”

Tara ignored the way her vision began to blur again as tears filled her eyes. “So, if you’re going to just judge my relationship with her,” Tara said, her voice stronger than she ever imagined it would be with what she was about to say. “Then you can just go back to wherever the hell it is you’ve been hiding.”

Sam’s eyes were once again glued to the floor. “You really trust them,” Sam said, though it didn’t come out as a question.

“With my life,” Tara said without hesitation.

Sam nodded to herself before pushing off the wall. Tara’s eyes tracked her movements as she crossed the room and took the seat you had previously occupied at her bedside. “So, how did you two get together?”

Tara gave her a soft smile. Maybe Sam did miss her after all, maybe coming back wasn’t just because she got attacked, Sam didn’t approve of Tara’s relationship with you, but she was willing to accept it, she was actually asking about you. No one had ever actually asked Tara about how the two of you got together, not without a snide comment following the question at least, or there was always an eyeroll of some sort.

“I had a crush on them for forever,” Tara said, giving a small eyeroll. She thought you were cute from the second she saw you. “We were in photography together.” The class was usually filled with seniors because the teacher was fun, and most students didn’t have the previously needed classes before then, but Tara took nothing but art electives in middle school, so she was able to take it as a freshman.

“They didn’t complain when I sat next to them and they got stuck doing partner projects with me,” she continued. Most seniors would complain about being stuck partnered with a little fourteen-year-old freshman, but you didn’t complain one bit, you even listened to Tara’s ideas of what to photograph, you treated her just like any other peer.

“It was a yearlong class, we became friends,” Tara looked down at her fingers continuing to pick at the blanket. “That December, I turned fifteen, mom went out of town. I’m pretty sure she forgot what day it was, but she was very busy.” Tara shook her head, even after all the years of consistent disappointment she was still making excuses for her mother. “But Y/N learned it was my birthday after I was grumpy all of class, or at least that’s what they said.” Tara pouted; she still didn’t think she had been grumpy.

“That night she knocked on my door, it was the first time we saw each other outside of class.” Tara shook her head at the memory of her opening the front door to see you standing there, an awkward smile on your face as you shifted from foot to foot. “She brought me a cupcake.”

“What are you doing here?” Tara asked, her mouth hanging open as she stared at you. Out of all the people to be knocking on her door she never expected it to be you.

“Oh, I,” you said, chuckling awkwardly as you rubbed a hand on the back of your neck. “I know it’s your birthday and I-” you held out a little plastic container.

Tara furrowed her brow but took the little container from you. She opened the lid, revealing a singular chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing. She looked back up at you, her wide eyes beginning to fill with tears. No one had done anything like that for her before. Her mother forgot her birthday and the last true celebration she ever had was before her father left, before Sam left. Her friends offered to do things with her, Judy would offer to bake for her, and Chad and Mindy’s mom would invite her over for dinner, but it always felt like they pitied her, like they felt bad that none of her family loved her enough to stick around or remember her birthday.

“I-I know it’s not much,” you said, breaking Tara out of her thoughts. “Maybe it’s weird-it’s weird I did this,” you gestured to the cupcake, though your eyes were glued to your shoes, refusing to meet Tara’s gaze. “I just think everyone deserves a little something on their birthday.”

Making sure to be careful of the cupcake in her hands, Tara stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of you and flinging an arm around the back of your neck. You froze as soon as her arm went around you but after a second, she felt you slowly relax. You knew what it was like to be alone, your parents gave you up when you were a baby, you never even knew what it was like to have a family. Even though Tara didn’t know what it was like to be an orphan, she knew what it was like to be abandoned by her entire family.

“Thank you,” Tara mumbled before pulling away.

You gave her a soft smile, your eyes flicking down to the floor for a second before meeting her gaze again. “Happy birthday Tara,” you said.

Tara gave you a wave as you made your way back to your car, quietly closing the door once she saw you driving off. A part of her wished you had stayed but just the idea that you had gone out of your way to bring her a cupcake was enough. She took her cupcake to the kitchen, sitting it on the island before picking it up and taking a huge bite. It was perfect and delicious; Tara was going to make sure to do something nice for your birthday as well.

Tara smiled at the memory. You and Tara never talked about that day, the next day at school Tara went to class, she sat next to you, and it was never brought up. You didn’t make a big deal out of what you did for her, she knew it didn’t change anything, but it definitely didn’t help her crush on you. You were nice but she couldn’t even bring herself to classify the two of you as friends, you were just someone who talked to her in class, and yet you were kind enough to go out of your way and get her a cupcake when you realized she didn’t have anyone there on her birthday. Tara never forgot that day though, she knew you didn’t forget about it either because when the two of you became true friends you always managed to get her a chocolate cupcake and it tasted just as good as the first one.

“I didn’t see her after she graduated, not until the next summer,” Tara continued. “I was bored, mom was gone, so I got a summer job at the video store with Liv.”

“Where Y/N happened to work,” Sam said.

Tara nodded. “Ended up bonding over the fact that we were doing all the work while Liv would flirt with guys.” Tara chuckled to herself, she didn’t know how many times she and you were restocking movies and she’d look up to see Liv flirting with someone at the counter. “She would also give me a ride home when we got off at the same time.” Her car rides with you back to her house were her favorite moments of the day, she wasn’t stressed about work, or worried about her mom, she was just at peace with you talking about whatever new movie she had seen, you would listen as she rambled on and on.

“We became actual friends, and I still had my crush,” Tara said. “I would ramble to Amber for hours about her despite Ambers clear disdain for her.” Tara rolled her eyes, even before she got together with you Amber practically hated your guts.

“I wasn’t sure if she liked me back,” Tara admitted. “Not in that way but then on my seventeenth birthday I decided to take a chance.” Tara smiled; it was more like she was talking to herself than to Sam now. “We had a small party, she stuck around to help me clean up and I just kissed her.”

“You don’t have to clean up,” Tara said. “You are technically my guest.”

“And leave the birthday girl to do all the cleaning up?” you asked, spinning around as you continued to walk around filling a trash bag. “That’s just bad manners.”

“Thank you.” Tara grabbed a few more empty cups, bringing them over as you held the trash bag open for her.

“Anytime.” You looked at Tara with the same soft gaze you always did, wearing the same small smile you always seemed to have around her. “Oh!” you dropped the garbage bag and ran to the refrigerator. “Before I forget.” You rummaged around in the fridge before turning around, holding a little plastic container with a chocolate cupcake inside. A shy smile slowly took over Tara’s face as you made your way back towards her. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

You flipped open the lid, then pulled out a little box of candles from your pocket. Tara chuckled as you stuck one of the candles in the cupcake. You brought out a lighter next, lighting the candle and holding out the cupcake towards her. Tara shook her head, hoping her inevitable blush wasn’t noticeable. She closed her eyes before leaning forward and blowing out the candle.

“What did you wish for?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Tara gently took the cupcake out of your hands and sat it on the kitchen island. She looked up at you, letting out a shaky breath for what she was about to do. “For some courage and for you not to be mad at me.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would I-”

Tara reached up, grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. She felt your entire body freeze and just as she was about to pull away you leaned forward, eagerly reciprocating the kiss. Your hands found her waist, instantly pulling her closer to you. Tara smiled into the kiss, feeling you do the same as it went on for a few more seconds.

“We’ve been together ever since,” Tara said, smiling the same way she had the first time she kissed you, the same way she always did when it came to you.

“I can’t say I’m thrilled about your relationship,” Sam said. Tara opened her mouth, ready to go on a tangent about you again but Sam continued before she could get a word out. “But I’ll try to learn to accept it.”

Tara looked up at Sam, giving her a soft smile. “Thank you.”

Sam got up, opening the door to allow you and her boyfriend to come back in. You instantly moved to Tara’s side, silently asking her if everything was okay, not taking a seat by her bedside again until she gave you a small smile. You glanced at Sam who spared you a side glance before going back to talking to her boyfriend. Tara sighed, she knew it would take time for Sam to get used to you being around, which she would have to do if she actually wanted to be a part of Tara’s life.

[danieyells]

@mayoigotokurousagi LAST ONE OF YOURS here's Jin!!!

Jin is. . .he's a lot sweeter than you'd expect once his affinity gets high lol. . . . I FEEL LIKE I ENDED UP WITH A LOT OF COMMENTARY HERE. . .he just acts very different as affinity goes up, i have to point shit out haha

I've also amended this one to be all of his voicelines now!

May 27th 2025 edit for his year 2 birthday lines

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Where the hell do you think you're going? Quit dawdling and help me get ready." お前、どこほっつき歩いてたんだ？……さっさと支度を手伝え

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Hey, you've got mail. Don't tell me you're not going to open it. What if it was for me?" おい、手紙。放っとくつもりじゃねぇだろうな。 俺宛があったらどうすんだ？ あ？

Jin, why would your mail be in my. . .whatever

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"...Get to the point. The trash here is so long-winded." チッ……さっさと要件を言え。ゴミどもはこれだから面倒くせぇ

"A party? I don't waste air on bootlickers. Try Tohma." 社交界？　肩書き目当ての奴らに構うつもりはねぇよ。塔真をあたれ

"Don't just stand there like an idiot. Hurry up. ...What? You got a problem? Spit it out." おい、ぼさっと突っ立ってねぇでついてこい。 ……何だ、文句でもあんのか？

"Kneel! Tsk... Where's {PC}? Bring her to my room." 跪け！ 　……チッ。あの女はどこだ。今すぐ俺の部屋に連れてこい

"What? Your schedule's not my problem. Just arrange it around me." あ？　お前の都合なんて知らねぇ。黙って俺に合わせてりゃいいんだよ

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Huh? I don't want to see your face at the crack of dawn. Get out." ……あ？寝起きから、その面見せんな…… 下がってろ

given how vulgar his speech is sometimes i'm surprised he didn't say "asscrack of dawn"

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Tell the chef I'm not in the mood for meat today." ……シェフに伝えろ。今日は肉の気分じゃねぇってな

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm not wasting my time fooling around with those brats today. If they're really that bored, just make them go on a low-ranking mission or something." ガキの遊びに付き合う気はねぇよ。そんなに暇なら、適当に低ランク任務でも行かせておけ

he's just barely avoiding making iPad kids out of Kaito and Lucas lmao

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Put my dinner over there. I'll eat later if I feel like it." ディナーはそこに置いておけ。気が向いたら食っておく

i am once again asking the ghouls to FUCKING EAT PROPER MEALS.

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I need more data for this case...  Go find Tohma, servant." 任務の資料が足りてねぇ…… 下僕、塔真を呼んでこい

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"A Class C anomaly? Miss me with that weak shit. Why do you think we have a Vice Captain?" あ？　Ｃ級怪異？ つまんねぇことに俺を巻き込むな。 何のために副寮長がいるんだ？

MISS ME WITH THAT WEAK SHIT I AM IN TEARS WHO TAUGHT YOU TO TALK LIKE THAT. . . .

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What about class? Ha. What makes you think you can lecture me? Worry about yourself." ……授業の時間？　ハッ、俺に説教とはいい度胸じゃねぇか。お前は自分の心配でもしてろ

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You don't even know that? What do they teach here?" ……そんなこともわからねぇのか？この学園の教育はどうなってんだ

I guess Jin has a good handle on the material and everything he'd need to know, as a third year. I say 'as a third year' but Alan didn't understand some of the basics so--

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Bianerus! ...I'm not feeling it today. You can go." ＜ビアネルス＞ …………チッ。調子が悪い。今日はもう下がれ

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's late. We're done here. Leave." ……もう遅い。話は終わりだ、下がれ

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"You're late. You've got some nerve making me wait, servant." ……遅ぇよ。下僕ごときが俺を待たせるな

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...I'm hungry. Go order lunch. For two." ……腹が減ったな。おい、ランチの手配をしろ。２人分だ

i guarantee you the pc did not consider that he meant "i want to eat lunch with you" the first time this happened. she probably just thought "damn jin's hungry today."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You have plans? Take a second and really think about whether your plans are more important than me before you open that mouth again." 今日は都合が悪い？ ……俺より優先する価値があるか、よく考えてから口を開け

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Why are you so chatty today? Just pour my tea and get out of my face." チッ……うるせぇ。いつもの紅茶だけ淹れて失せろ

'stop trying to befriend me and go away' lmao

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"You should be grateful I'm giving you the time of day this early in the morning." 俺が朝から相手してやってんだ。ありがたく思え

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Why do you look so worn out? If you're going to serve me, learn how to take better care of yourself. Tohma, take her to the infirmary." おい下僕、なんだその顔色は。俺に仕えるなら体調管理は万全にしろ。 塔真、こいつを保健室に運んでこい

why the infirmary. . .i don't think she needs a doctor i think she needs a nap. You're overworking her didn't Tohma tell you not to break her you donut

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's still early... You want to practice the waltz? Bold, aren't you? You're going to be sore tomorrow." まだこんな時間か。 ワルツの練習？……生意気に催促しやがって。 覚悟しろよ。お前は明日、筋肉痛だ

are we still. . .talking about the. . .dancing. . . .

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You want to dine with me? Ha. All right. Show me if you've learned anything." お前と俺が、ディナーを一緒に？ ハッ、面白ぇ。お手並み拝見といこうか

impromptu lesson on table manners!?

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's quiet tonight... Sit here, next to me. We're playing a duet. Don't give me that look. You'll know this song." 今夜は静かだな……隣に座れ。 連弾だ。そんな顔すんじゃねぇよ。 ……お前も知ってる曲だ

I previously used the expression names to describe his expression as 'pouting' and 'like a spoiled child' but he mostly just looks irritated lmaooo

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Waking me up every morning was your idea, so I'd better see you here tomorrow too. That's an order." ルーティンにしたのはお前だろ。責任取って、明日も起こしに来い。 ……これは命令だ

how quickly we go from "i don't wanna see your face first thing in the morning" to "i had better see your face every morning". . . . (it's not quickly at all. it's actually an incredibly slow process getting affinity up.)

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...I was too active yesterday. Massage me, servant. ...What the hell was that? Put some muscle into it." チッ。昨日は体を動かしすぎたな。 下僕、次はマッサージだ。 ……足りねぇよ。もっと強く押せ

i love this one he's just like bitch what the fuck kinda weak ass massage is that put some back into it?????

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You don't know about dining etiquette? I don't have time for this... If you want me to teach you, I better see that nose on the grindstone." テーブルマナーがわからない？ 面倒くせぇ……俺に教わるからにはそれ相応の覚悟があんだろうな？

we are reaching critical levels of "i need to make you presentable so you can meet my father" also I find it funny that this is after the "you wanna eat with me? let's see if you've learned anything" line. WHEN WERE THEY SUPPOSED TO HAVE HAD LEARNED OR DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO STUDY YOU AS YOU EAT

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What's that? My helicopter, obviously. Quit gawking and get in." 俺のヘリだ。見たらわかんだろ。……いいから、さっさと乗れ

get in servant idk where we're going but you are going with me

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I've got plans early tomorrow. Your house is too far. Stay here tonight." 明日は早朝から用事がある。お前が寝泊まりしてる寮からじゃ間に合わねぇかもな。 今夜は、ここに泊まれ

another expression note. . .he's looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck here. He's shy, almost. Because he's not asking you to stay over to perform some task. It's not your usual master-servant dynamic. He just wants you close to him. As close as possible. He really is rather sweet.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Never learn, do you? I don't take you being here for granted. I know it won't last forever. That's all I'm going to say." 懲りないやつだな。言っておくが、こうやってお前が隣にいること…… 俺は、永遠に続くとは思ってねぇぞ

Jin makes a kind of sad face when he says it won't last forever. well, as sad as he can manage.

He knows that once your curse is broken you'll probably go back to your ordinary life. If your curse can't be broken you'll die. And if you, for some reason, continue to stay at Darkwick even after being cured, he'll be a fourth year next year--he's gonna go off to do field work. Eventually he'll work in the highest levels of the Institute and eventually he'll take his father's place as the president. With all of this, there's no way you'll be able to be together, no matter what. This is a short lived burst of happiness and attachment for him. It means a lot more to him than you realize.

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"(yawn) What's with that look? I'm not allowed to yawn?" ふぁっ…… あ？　何だその顔は。俺があくびして悪ぃか？

(between 11am and 4pm)

"The flowers you can see from the balcony? Yeah, I had them planted. ...My mother liked them." バルコニーから見える花……？ああ、俺が植えさせた。 …………お袋が好きだった花だ

the balcony bg and the front of frostheim background don't have flowers visible in them(i mean the balcony has potted plants but no flowers). . .i wonder what kind of flowers his mother liked. maybe the pc will grow them when they turn into a Kyklos.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Sunset's supposed to be nice this time of year. Come on, servant. Before I change my mind." 春茜か……おい下僕、少し外に出る。 俺の気が変わる前に付き合えよ

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're going to see the cherry blossoms tonight with the brats? Suit yourself. I doubt any of you can appreciate them." あ？　ガキどもと夜桜を見に行く？ 勝手にしろ。お前らに、あの風情がわかるとは思えねぇけどな

'you guys are too poor to appreciate nice things'

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Those little shits are so loud this morning... They're worse than the cicadas. Tohma, go exterminate them." クソ、朝からガキどもがうるせぇ。 塔真、あのセミより鬱陶しい奴らを駆除してこい

MODS, PUT 'EM IN THE BLENDER.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"What kind of moron chooses to go out in the sun this time of year? Unless you want your brain to melt, stay here with me." わざわざこの時期、日を浴びようなんて奴は馬鹿しかいねぇ。 お前も脳みそ溶かしたくなきゃ、ここにいろ

jin. . .this is frostheim. it is PERMANENTLY WINTER here, even to the point of that the day-night timing doesn't change. It's not hot unless we leave the boundaries of frostheim. . . . THIS IS A THINLY VEILED EXCUSE TO GET YOU TO STAY WITH HIM.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"You've got tickets to a fireworks festival? The view's better from a helicopter. ...You've got guts thinking you can show me a good time, peasant." あ？　花火大会の観覧席チケット？ 花火はヘリから見るもんだろ。庶民の分際で俺を誘いやがって……

'peasant' is worse than 'servant' in my opinion. . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Haven't heard the sound of waves for a while... Get the speedboat. I'll drive." しばらく波の音も聞いてねぇな…… おい、今すぐクルーザーを出せ。操縦は俺がする

jin just shoving you into various vehicles to take you places is really funny to me for some reason. you're like his purse dog. he just wants to take you everywhere even if it doesn't really benefit him to do so. also he can drive a speedboat????

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I overworked myself. Go get Tohma. I was right having him get that PT license. I should have you get one too." 塔真を呼べ、オーバーワークした。 あいつに整体の資格を取らせたのは正解だったな。 下僕、お前も取るか

. . .doesn't that take like three years minimum in japan. . .how did you get him to get that. . .didn't he only meet you like two and a half years ago and you weren't even in the same house then. . .is that a darkwick offered course. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A pumpkin spice latte? I'm not drinking this saccharine garbage. Give the rest to the brats." あ？　パンプキンスパイスラテ？ こんな甘ったるい茶は飲まねぇよ。残りはガキどもにやっとけ

what do you think he is, a basic bitch like you? Not a big fan of sweets. Noted.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"My favorite family vacation? Don't have one. This conversation is over." 行楽の思い出？そんなもんねぇよ。 ……この話は終わりだ

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I don't play the piano because I like it. It's just force of habit." 別に、ピアノが好きで弾いてるわけじゃねぇよ。ただの惰性だ

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"...Don't fucking wake me up. Come back later." ……起こすんじゃねぇ。話なら後にしろ

he hates the heat he hates the cold. . .well he also hates mornings in general. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Why is my name on this snowman? Tohma, give me your gloves. Whichever half-wit made this has shit for eyes." なんで雪だるまに、俺の名前が？ ……塔真、手袋を貸せ。これ作った奴の目は、確実に腐ってやがんな

"is that supposed to be me. . .? aw hell no i am fixing this shit"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Tell the chef and the brats we're having a roast dinner tomorrow. Kobe beef. They know how I like it." 明日はローストディナーだ、シェフとガキどもに言っとけ。 肉は神戸牛でな。焼き加減はわかってるはずだ

i like that the frostheim ghouls eat dinner together like a family. . .jin looks at Kaito and Lucas and goes 'those are my idiot sons. i cannot stand them.'

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're staying here tonight, servant. I'll show you an aurora you couldn't even dream of." 下僕、今夜は泊まれ。最上級のオーロラを見せてやる

see how this is worded differently from when he asks you to stay over because 'your house is too far away'? even when he's trying to be sweet to you, as long as he maintains your power imbalance he feels comfortable--he has something over you here--but trying to lay his feelings bare, just saying 'i want you to stay with me', that's so much more than he's used to saying.

His birthday (Year 1): (August 31st)

"A birthday party? This has Tohma written all over it, that asshole's always using me to— You're planning it? ...I'll think about it." 誕生日パーティー？　塔真の奴、また俺を客寄せに使って…… 違う？お前が主催？ ……気が向いたらな

'that asshole tohma is trying to make me go outside aga--oh you're planning the party. oh. okay. maybe.'

His birthday (Year 2): (August 31st)

"What? You got me a present? …You can give it to me later. Come to my room in an hour." あ？　俺に誕生日プレゼント？ ……あとで受け取ってやる。 １時間後に、俺の部屋に来い

he wants his present in private thank you u.u

Your birthday (Year 1):

"The song I just played? It's G. F. Handel. He wrote it for the queen's birthday." さっき弾いた曲？……Ｇ．Ｆ．ヘンデルが、女王の誕生日に送った曲だ

in case you don't get the significance of what he's saying here. . .lemme fetch one of Tohma's lines for you--

"I'm no more than a servant. Frostheim is ruled by a king, you see." 私はあくまで小間使いですよ。フロストハイムには、キングがいますから

my dude I think jin just called you his queen--only for your birthday though don't get cocky, servant

Your birthday (Year 2):

"Hey, servant. Did you get the package from Tohma yet? …No? Tch… What the hell is he doing…" おい、下僕。塔真から荷物は受け取ったか？ ……まだだと？ チッ。 あの野郎、もたもたしやがって……

on one hand. . .did you not want to deliver the present yourself. . .on the other hand. . .TOHMA WHERE IS MY GIRL'S PRESENT LMAO. . .he's just trying to teach you that you should do things yourself Jin!

New Years: (January 1st)

"Hope you're ready for another year being at beck and call, servant. First up, my New Year's courtesy calls. Go do them for me." おい、下僕。今年も俺専用の女中として必死に尽くせよ。 まずは新年の挨拶回りだ。代わりに行ってこい

'happy new year! your purpose is still serving me.'

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"What's that sad-looking box you're holding? ...Oh. No, don't throw it away. I'll take it." なんだ？　この貧相な包みは。 ……ああ、そういうことか。 捨てなくていい。受け取ってやるよ

jin is one of those characters who probably gets a mountain of chocolates given to him by admirers, all brand name and like from famous confectioners and shit. real nice fancy packages. so he sees your shitty little unprofessional homemade thing and is like 'tf is that' before he realizes it's for him and it's made with love and he just. . .ah. no, i want that, actually.

White Day: (March 14th)

"Keep your schedule open tonight. You're having a meal your peasant taste buds couldn't even dream of." おい、今夜は予定を開けとけ。庶民じゃ一生出会えねぇような美味いもん、お前に食わせてやるよ

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Hey, are you all right? ...Tsk. If that was a joke, it wasn't fucking funny. I've changed my mind. Cancel all my plans for the day." おい、お前大丈夫か？ 　……チッ。質の悪ぃ嘘だな…… 気が変わった。今日の予定はすべてキャンセルだ

i feel like Jin is about to put together the most elaborate prank and it's gonna hurt someone's feelings or get somebody hurt and no one will find it funny and he'll end up feeling super shitty. like that one spongebob episode.

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Where the hell's Tohma? Asshole sent the brats to my room to beg for candy. Next time I see him I'm going to wring his fucking neck." クソ……塔真はどこだ。俺の部屋に籠持ったガキども寄こしやがって。 あいつ……ぶっ殺すぞ……

okay but did you give them candy?

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Go tell Tohma what color dress you're wearing tonight. Why? Maybe I'll wear a matching ascot tie. If I feel like it." 今夜着るドレスの色を塔真に伝えておけ。 あ？　理由？ 気が向いたらアスコットタイの色を合わせてやる

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...Where the hell did she go?" ……あの女、どこ行きやがった？

(13 affinity and above)

"Shit... This is throwing me off. Who does that servant think she is?" ……クソ……調子が狂う。 下僕の分際で、舐めやがって……

he feels so wrong without you next to him aw

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"...You've got guts abandoning your place at my back, servant. I'm going to have to retrain you." …………っ、おい……下僕は常に主人の後ろにいるもんだろうが。 お前は再教育だ

ONCE AGAIN IT FEELS LIKE I PUT NEARLY ALL OF THEM IN IT'S ALL OF THEM NOW! The way he treats the pc in so many different ways but it makes sense with his character and feelings. . .as far as the home screen lines go, Jin definitely loves you in some capacity. He's actually quite clingy. . .i'm a little too sleepy for more coherent thought haha

[hivemuthur]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 6.

viktorxfemale!reader mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 5K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: ok, so my notes on AO3 reminded me how actually this fic crawled into my brain and it was with Drugs in Our Body. So, what should happen after this chapter is whatever happens in DiOB - it serves as somewhat floating chapter. The story can be read without it, but there might be some gaps in the next and future chapters, as I reference it briefly. So, it's ch.6. -> DiOB -> ch.7. I hope that makes sense, I don't know who I think I am, doing this kind of stuff.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

“A C?” you gasped as you opened your paper, the glaring red C screaming at your incompetence. How could this happen? You’d worked on it for an entire week. You turned the paper around, desperate for any explanation, but all you found was Heimerdinger’s poetic scrawl: ‘Not entirely botched but needs more work. Seek and you shall find, Y/N. You can give me a fix-up if you want a higher grade.’

“Don’t worry, I got a D,” Sue sighed, her arms falling to her sides, the paper crumpled in one hand. She hadn’t put in nearly as much effort, spending most of the week hanging out with Alice and doing what she smugly referred to as “girl stuff.”

“Yes, but I put in about a month’s worth of research for this,” you muttered, the frustration spilling out before you could stop it. You caught Sue’s glare and quickly backtracked. “I’m not saying you didn’t! I just… I don’t understand.”

“Well, he says you can fix it. He didn’t say that on mine, look,” Sue said, holding up the crumpled paper. The note read: ‘Not bad. Could be better. Pay more attention to details next time. H.’

“You could ask Viktor for help?” Sue offered faintly; her eyebrows raised. You inhaled sharply, preparing to unleash a tirade of insults about why that was the absolute last thing you would ever do. But before you could, Sue hastily amended, “Or Jayce! He has office hours in the afternoon, or so I’ve heard.”

“I… guess you’re right,” you said, letting out the breath you’d been holding. Seeing Viktor in class was already more than enough to deal with. He acted as if nothing had happened, which only made you more furious. That anger had sharpened even further when Angus had texted to ask you out for coffee, leaving your stomach tied in knots as you agreed.

You met him at a cosy pub near campus, the same one you used to frequent with Hale, Sue, Jayce, Mel, and, well… Viktor—though only because he was coerced, not because you wanted him there. Angus asked you question after question, and you found it surprisingly easy to talk to him. You told him funny stories about your parents being new age freaks, about how much you loved your mum’s Polish cooking, and how your dad had kept you in a strict yoga routine since you were six, grooming you to take over his practice.

You admitted how you’d chosen genetics instead, a quiet rebellion against your mum’s recall healing teachings—only to discover there was some truth to them, realising that everything in the universe was connected.

Angus was fascinated. He told you about his three brothers, who’d gone into law and programming, and how he was the family’s scapegoat. He spoke warmly about his close bond with his mum and his dream of running a facility to help kids overcome trauma through theatre and dance.

You praised him for it, but when he misread your words as an invitation and leaned in to kiss you, you froze. He stopped, eyebrows raised, waiting for you to explain. All you could manage was a clumsy explanation that you’d had a wonderful time, but it made you realise you needed to sort out your own issues first.

He laughed, a soft, knowing sound. “I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be straightforward,” he said lightly.

He seemed like the kind of guy who could easily find someone else, but the thought still left your heart aching. And somehow, it was all Viktor’s fault.

The way he never asked about any of those things. The way he only asked where you were from to wind you up.

You braced yourself through the day, slogging through classes and lectures with the weight of that damned paper gnawing at you. By the time the sky turned dark, you found yourself reluctantly heading back to the science lab, resolved to ask Jayce for help. It felt strange to ask him instead of Viktor—like you were dodging some inescapable fate.

Jayce had always been approachable, quick to befriend the “fresh meat.” If there were any rules about student-TA relationships, he seemed to ignore them with a confidence that made you smile. Viktor, on the other hand… well, he was a different beast entirely.

Stuffing a banana into your mouth as you walked, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in one of the school’s tall windows. Not great, but not tragic either. The real issue was the way your face—mid-chewing—gave away just how much crying you’d been doing. It was painfully obvious, even to you.

You barged into the TA’s office without a second thought. “Hey, Jayce, do you have some time to take a look at this?” you asked, your focus entirely on digging through your bag, where the cursed paper had been unceremoniously shoved earlier.

But when you looked up, you froze.

The person at the desk wasn’t Jayce. It was Viktor.

He glanced up at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at your abrupt entrance. And there it was—already forming—the smirk you hated so much. Before he could unleash one of his insufferable remarks, you scrambled to backtrack.

“Shit, sorry. I thought it was Jayce’s hours. I’ll come back some other time,” you blurted, already halfway out the door.

“Please, don’t be ridiculous,” he said, standing up too quickly, his hand wobbling on his cane. You saw it but decided not to step in to help. “I can take a look.”

His voice carried a careful edge, and you hesitated. You didn’t trust him—not after the last time. He had crossed a line, and you’d felt the sting of it for days. He knew it too. He saw it in the way your body tensed every time he leaned over your workbench in class to offer advice, advice you now refused to take. He saw it now, in the faint swelling of your face, the traces of tears you hadn’t managed to hide.

He knew it had been wrong the moment you stormed out of his office that day, leaving him slumped in his chair with a quiet “Shit,” slipping from his mouth.

Now, as you lingered in the doorway, Viktor saw a chance to make amends. He wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers.

You eyed him suspiciously before finally handing over the paper, reluctant and still keeping your distance. Viktor perched himself on the edge of the desk, flipping through your work, his sharp eyes scanning for Heimerdinger’s signature wisdom.

“Ah, right. He can’t be bothered to write more than this,” Viktor huffed, reading the vague ‘Seek and you shall find.’

“Thankfully, I made notes for you on this one,” he said, glancing up to meet your eyes. There was a genuine effort in his grin that made you uneasy.

“Wasn’t it supposed to be Jayce’s hours?” you asked, crossing your arms as you watched him pull a set of notes from his bag. Why would he make notes for you in advance? It didn’t add up. Was this some elaborate act to stage a redemption arc for himself?

“Why? Has your focus shifted already?” Viktor’s retort slipped out before he could stop it. The playful edge in his voice made your spine straighten, ready to snap back with a sharp response. But before you could, he quickly softened his tone.

“He’s sick,” Viktor said, his gaze steady, almost remorseful. “I’m covering for him.”

You didn’t know whether to believe him, but the vulnerability in his tone threw you off balance. For once, it seemed like Viktor wasn’t trying to wind you up—or at least, not entirely.

You didn’t say anything at first, but you leaned in closer, your gaze falling to the notes Viktor had spread out on the desk. That familiar scent of his—body wash, something clean and sharp, mingled with freshly washed wool—drifted to you. It was oddly comforting, though you couldn’t quite figure out why it felt so… intimate.

He tapped a finger on the first section of your paper, pointing to where you had rushed to conclusions, skipping the part where you should have explained how you’d arrived at your findings. “You’ve got solid results,” he said, his voice low and patient, “but Heimerdinger’s mark was his way of telling you that your argument is missing a crucial part. You skipped over how you proved your hypothesis—how you got to the results you did.”

You nodded, following his finger as he guided you through the mistakes you hadn’t even noticed before. His advice was precise, practical, and, oddly enough, warm. It wasn’t just about correcting your errors—it was the care he was taking with you. He wasn’t simply telling you what was wrong; he was showing you how to fix it, step by step, as though it actually mattered to him.

“This part here,” Viktor continued, tapping another section, “it’s the hardest part for most students. The construction of the paper—the logic of it. That’s what gets people. You didn’t make any mistakes in your research or results. It’s just the way you laid everything out. This is the part most academics struggle with. It just takes practice.”

You swallowed, warmth rushing through your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was the unexpected kindness or the fact that he was taking the time to explain everything so thoroughly, but something inside you shifted. Your shoulders relaxed, and the tension you’d been carrying eased, just a little.

For a moment, you let your guard down. You allowed yourself to actually listen, to trust in what he was saying. But as his steady, warm tone settled over you, a flicker of confusion took hold. Was this real? Was he being this careful with you because he cared? Or were you just imagining it, reading too much into the moment?

Your mind raced, a swirl of emotions and doubts tumbling over one another. It had only been a few days since that… moment. You weren’t sure if you were holding on to the idea of it or if Viktor’s actions now were a sign that something had shifted between you.

You glanced at him. His focus was entirely on your paper, his expression neutral. But something in his eyes made your heart beat just a little faster. Was he really this warm, or was it just the warmth of the moment? You couldn’t tell.

“How is your hand?” he asked suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. His gaze drifted to the small bandage covering the alkaline burn from the other day. The question seemed to slip out unbidden, and you weren’t sure if you appreciated the reminder.

You blinked, thrown back to that moment by the sink: his voice sharp and cutting, his dark eyes boring into you, his fingers pressing gently against your wrist as his mouth asked, “Why are you not wearing gloves?”

Your pulse quickened as you quickly tugged your sleeve over the bandage, concealing the mark. “It’s fine,” you said, taking a step back.

He spoke your name softly, his hand darting out to stop you. This time, his movement wasn’t hesitant, wasn’t unsure, as it had been before. His fingers closed around your wrist—not roughly, but firmly enough that you couldn’t slip away.

He turned your hand palm-up and carefully began peeling the bandage away. The gentleness of the motion disarmed you, and you stood frozen, watching as his sharp eyes inspected the wound beneath.

You winced at the gesture, and Viktor presumed it was painful, though your face twisted more because here he was, exposing you once again. “Don’t be such a baby,” he chuckled.

“I could say the same to you,” you muttered under your breath. Viktor only shot you a glance, laced with a knowing smile.

“It’s looking good. Let it air out once in a while,” he said. This would be the moment to release your hand, but he couldn’t help himself; he held it for a little while longer. He was about to mention how you could always count on him for help with essays and long-term homework, just to cement the quiet truce between you. But you beat him to it.

“You don’t know the first thing about me.” It blurted out before you could stop it. It just shot out of your mouth like an overworked spring.

Viktor was taken aback. His mouth hung open for a moment as he processed your words. What exactly did you mean by that? It was a challenge you threw without thinking. But he could take it. The silence between you stretched, and when you started to retreat your hand, about to mutter an apology, he spoke, hesitantly.

“I… I know you’re half-Polish,” he said, offering a sheepish smile, as if apologizing for how he’d gathered this information. You shot him a glare, but Viktor wasn’t deterred.

“I also know you’re into genetics.” Your sigh was almost audible. These were the things most people knew about you by now. But he wasn’t finished.

“I know that you know Hamilton by heart.” You raised an eyebrow, but he pressed on.

“I know you don’t abandon your friends when they need you. I know you’re ambitious, smart, and funny. I know you laugh at silly, dry chemistry jokes. I know you chew on your pencil when you’re focused.” Your breath hitched slightly, but you stayed silent.

“I know…” he hesitated, his voice softening, “how warm your hands are when you get… excited.” He knew so much more about you but was too afraid to say it. He knew the feeling of your fingers on his scalp as you pulled him closer into a kiss. He knew the taste of your tongue and the sound of little gasps you made when he touched you. He memorized it all and replayed it over and over again in his mind.

You swallowed hard, feeling a strange mix of warmth and nerves twirling inside you. You didn’t speak, just looked at him, and Viktor, not certain about the effect of his confession, refused to meet your gaze. His touch on your hand was tender now, softer than before.

He cleared his throat, finally asking, “So… what do you know about me?” You blinked, thrown off by the question. You answered quickly, not thinking too much about it.

“I know you’re Czech… and that you’re a sad fart.”

Viktor couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound light and unexpected in the air between you. You felt the tension lift, just a little, as you shared this strange, awkward moment. He released your hand and leaned back against the desk, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, his voice carrying a mix of humour and something more sincere.

“Well, it seems that we need to work on that. I’m so much more than a sad fart. I’m also a stiff, meticulous bastard, I’ll remind you.” He pointed a joking finger in your direction as you rolled your eyes.

“What do you have in mind, then?” you asked, your tone still guarded but tinged with curiosity.

“A… ceasefire?” Viktor suggested, his smile lingering, though his gaze softened slightly. “At least for now.”

Your lips twitched into a half-smile. “As long as you promise not to shoot me in the back.”

Viktor chuckled softly under his breath. “I might have a history of unsportsmanlike conduct, but perhaps we could… start over? Unless, of course, Angus…”

You raised an eyebrow at that, feeling a grin tug at the corners of your mouth. “Oh, you wish I told you,” you teased, your tone a playful challenge rather than an outright denial. “But yes, a ceasefire and a do-over I can accept. No dirty moves, Viktor.”

He leaned in ever so slightly, his voice still playful but with an edge of something deeper. “I solemnly swear.” He held up a hand in mock sincerity before smirking. “No dirty moves… this time.”

His gaze lingered on you, the teasing glint still present, but there was an undercurrent of something else in his tone. He wasn’t making it clear—what exactly were the two of you trying again? Was it just the tentative friendship, the awkward truce formed after your bickering? Or was it something more?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that he might be pushing for something beyond the ceasefire, though he wasn’t saying it outright. Perhaps it was just your imagination, overthinking again, but the uncertainty made you uneasy. You wanted to keep your distance, to hold the upper hand, but something in Viktor’s manner made you hesitate.

Your fingers brushed the edge of your notebook, a telltale sign of your nerves as you glanced up at him. “You’re really not going to elaborate, are you?” you asked, giving him a look that was equal parts challenge and curiosity.

Viktor shrugged, his expression a mix of amusement and caution. “What’s to elaborate? We’re starting over. That’s enough for now, isn’t it?”

You bit your lip, refusing to let him see how much his words made your pulse quicken. Instead, you smirked, masking the flutter of emotions beneath a calm exterior. “As long as you don’t get any funny ideas.”

His gaze softened slightly, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained. “No funny ideas. For now, anyway.” He straightened, placing his hands back on the desk, but the space between you still felt charged and unfinished.

***

To seal the deal, both you and Viktor made an equal effort to keep things neutral—meeting among friends, in public spaces, testing the waters of this truce. One such occasion found you at the pub with the usual group of six, an outing entirely orchestrated by Viktor.

He and Jayce weren’t exactly studying; instead, they were buried in notes, trying to distil their findings into a polished research summary for Heimerdinger. Across the table, Mel and Hale were prepping for their theatre history exam, their discussions frequently devolving into competitive banter as they lobbed historical facts at each other in an effort to outdo one another.

Sue, ever diligent, was rewriting her entire textbook into her notebook as if the act itself would cement the knowledge in her brain. Meanwhile, you were seated cross-legged on the floor, quietly working on your genetics paper, tuning out the chatter as best you could.

The group was a collage of concentration and lively exchanges when you simultaneously let out a yawn and your stomach grumbled loudly, the sound cutting through the general din of the pub.

Viktor’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at you over the rim of his notes, his tone wry as he spoke. “Feels like there is more than one need to address here.”

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You quickly moved a hand over your belly as if to stifle the sound. “Uh, I don’t suppose they have sandwiches here?”

“They do!” Jayce chimed in enthusiastically, leaning forward with sudden interest. Food always seemed to pull his attention from whatever he was working on. “And not the worst ones, either.”

Viktor exhaled with a knowing sigh; his expression lightly amused. “Eh, they are… not bad,” he conceded. His tone softened, and he leaned slightly forward, tilting his head in your direction. “What say you?”

You hesitated for only a second before Viktor began rising from his seat. He moved with a kind of deliberate precision, setting his notes neatly onto the side table. You noticed how his gaze briefly flicked to Jayce’s writing, his lips twitching in approval before returning his focus to you.

“Uh, sure,” you said, already scrambling up from the floor. Your papers lay abandoned dangerously close to the pub’s cozy fireplace, but you didn’t notice. Instead, as you rose, you wobbled awkwardly, your leg prickling with the unmistakable sensation of pins and needles. You grabbed onto Hale’s shoulder for balance. “Sorry, my leg fell asleep.”

Viktor smirked, his hand resting lightly on the head of his cane as he stood. “Are you trying to copy me?”

You grinned despite yourself. “Totally. Can I borrow that?” You reached out toward his cane, your eyes glinting with playful defiance.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he straightened his posture slightly. “You can try,” he said, holding the cane a fraction tighter as if to make a point. “But I warn you, it comes with certain… responsibilities.”

“Oh, I bet it does,” you quipped, brushing past him toward the bar. “I can see myself torturing students with such a vigilant symbol of authority,” you added, throwing him a smirk over your shoulder.

Viktor followed, limping slightly but keeping pace with you, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation as he shook his head.

Behind you, Jayce called out, “Grab me something too!” but neither you nor Viktor paid him any mind.

Hale sighed deeply, finally turning his head away from Mel, who had been poised to deliver another historical fact to outdo him. Instead, his gaze followed you and Viktor as you approached the bar.

“That,” Hale said, his voice low and contemplative, his eyes fixed on you and Viktor as you waited for your coffees at the counter, “will either be beautiful or tragic. Or both.”

“I’m sorry, what are we looking at?” Sue asked, peering over her notebook.

“Our dear friends poking at each other’s hearts,” Hale replied with theatrical solemnity, folding his arms dramatically.

Jayce let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “Get out, Hale. Viktor would never.”

“Oh, he already did. Just… look at them,” Hale insisted, gesturing subtly in your direction.

Mel perked up, abandoning her train of thought on Renaissance theatre entirely. “Alright, that’s way more interesting than theatre history. Show me what you’re seeing.”

“Alright, kids,” Hale said, sitting up straighter and adopting the tone of a sage sharing forbidden wisdom. “I will share my magic with you, just this once. Look at Viktor. He’s already deep in. See how he’s leaning toward her? I bet he’s saying everything as quiet as possible, so she has to get closer.”

Four heads turned toward the bar, studying the scene unfolding by the counter. Sure enough, your head lingered close to Viktor’s mouth, your neck stretching slightly as though he were, indeed, telling you a quiet joke meant only for you to hear.

“Or,” Jayce countered, raising an eyebrow, “it’s loud in here, and he’s favouring the good leg.”

“Quiet, unbeliever,” Hale dismissed him with a dramatic wave of his hand. “Now, pay attention. Look at his hand. It’s hovering over her, see? He touches her every so often—nothing dramatic, just enough to remind her he’s there.”

The group watched as Viktor’s hand brushed your arm, subtle but deliberate, before retreating again.

“And now,” Hale continued, lowering his voice for effect, “he’s going to make her look. Watch how he gestures toward the bar—something he said, no doubt very clever—and there it is. She’s looking at his hand.” Your gaze flicked down to Viktor’s hand as he emphasized his point, your expression a mix of amusement and concentration.

“Now, notice her,” Hale said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “She’s holding back, but she’s doing that thing she does when she likes someone. See how she doesn’t look directly at him when he talks? Instead, she leans toward him, like she’s pulled by a magnet.”

Right on cue, you tilted your head slightly toward Viktor, though your eyes remained fixed elsewhere.

“And now,” Hale declared with a triumphant grin, “he’ll look away, and she’ll steal a glance. Ah! There it is.” He pointed as your gaze darted to Viktor’s face the moment his attention shifted elsewhere.

“And what is she looking at, you ask?” Hale continued, his tone dripping with faux gravity. “She’s checking if he’s comfortable with her. Or, in Viktor’s case, if he’s in pain. Watch her eyes.”

Sure enough, your gaze swept over Viktor’s posture, subtly assessing the way his body shifted against the cane.

“And now, for the dramatic finale,” Hale announced, holding up a hand as if to quiet an invisible audience. “He will pass her the first cup of coffee, and she will take it from his hand. That way, they’ll touch—skin on skin. And…”

The group collectively held their breath, eyes fixed on the bar. Viktor handed you a cup, your fingers brushing briefly.

“She’ll look at him and make a joke,” Hale continued confidently, “and—yes, there it is.”

You said something with a wry smile, your eyes glinting, and Viktor’s laugh followed—a soft, genuine sound that made his shoulders relax.

“And now,” Hale finished with a flourish, “he’s shoving four sugar packets into his coffee while she’s not looking. I guess that’s just Viktor being gross.”

Sue stifled a laugh, Mel smirked, and Jayce shook his head in disbelief.

“And this,” Hale said, leaning back triumphantly, “ladies, gentlemen, and beautiful creatures, is the cautious love that we are lucky enough to witness blooming before our very eyes.”

“With your voiceover, it feels like spying on someone having sex, Hale,” Mel quipped, arching an eyebrow.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Hale replied, completely unfazed, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. Reading people was his superpower, and he had seen through Viktor the first day they all met in the very pub that was now their place of refuge. You, he knew by heart.

“Man, you are frightening,” Jayce whispered loudly. “Watching this careful study, well… maybe you’re right, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up,” he added, glancing toward the bar. He hurriedly returned to his notes, mindful that you and Viktor would be back any second and shouldn’t know what had just transpired. Feeling the weight of three questioning stares, he sighed and elaborated, “Viktor does more of… guest performances rather than full seasons, if you catch my meaning.”

“Oh, let him try a guest performance with my darling girl, and I will shove his cane up his—” Hale’s expression shifted instantly from threatening to sickeningly sweet as he noticed you eyeing him from the distance. “Did you get what your heart desired, my love?”

“I suppose. What are you guys talking about?” you asked, your gaze sweeping suspiciously over the group before landing briefly on Viktor. You sent him a silent question, but he didn’t seem to notice, too absorbed in his meticulous effort to sweeten his coffee.

“Nothing… Renaissance theatre history… lip gloss,” came a broken chorus of voices in response.

Your eyebrows shot even higher on your forehead. “Uh… as you wish, weirdos,” you dismissed, focusing on your sandwich instead.

The group fell into a brief silence, the kind that crackled with unspoken thoughts, pens scribbling, papers being shuffled around. Jayce kept glancing toward Viktor one time too many, his eyebrows furrowing as if he were trying to decode something. Viktor’s patience snapped first.

“What?” Viktor asked, irritation colouring his tone. “Do I have something on my face?”

Jayce blinked, startled. “Huh? No, just… never mind,” he muttered, hurriedly returning to his notes. Was it possible for his friend to have a thing with you and never mention it?

Before the awkward moment could deepen, Sue suddenly jolted upright as if struck by lightning. “Shit! I need to pack!” she exclaimed, shoving her notebook into her bag with alarming speed. She leaned over to you, kissed your forehead dramatically, and declared, “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m away.”

You rolled your eyes, chewing on your sandwich. “No promises.”

Sue hesitated for a split second, her gaze flickering briefly toward Viktor before snapping back to you. “Or do,” she added with a sly grin, winking.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Have a nice weekend, Sue.”

“You too!” Sue called over her shoulder, already halfway out the door.

Once she was gone, Jayce tilted his head curiously. “Where’s she off to?”

You swallowed your bite and shrugged. “Spending the weekend with her dad. Family bonding time, you know how it is.”

Viktor, who had been stirring his coffee in a slow, thoughtful rhythm, glanced at you. “So, you are alone for the entire weekend?”

You met his gaze, an eyebrow arching. “That’s right. Why? Got something in mind?”

Viktor’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk, but all he said was, “Maybe.”

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Careful, Viktor. As a wise man once said, too much love can kill you.”

Jayce, who had been sipping his drink, choked on a laugh, sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. Viktor’s brows knitted together in confusion for a moment. He rested his chin on his hand, mulling it over until realization dawned. He straightened, looking at you with mild disbelief.

“Wait,” he said slowly, his voice laced with both amusement and incredulity. “Did you just quote Meatloaf at me?”

You grinned wickedly, your eyes glinting with mischief. “What can I say? I have range.”

Jayce laughed again, shaking his head. “I can’t decide if that’s impressive or completely unhinged.”

“Unhinged,” Viktor replied flatly, though the corners of his mouth twitched in betrayal of a suppressed smile.

You raised your sandwich in a mock toast. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course you would,” Viktor muttered, taking a long sip of his now overly sweetened coffee.

But as if taking your cautionary tale seriously, Viktor didn’t reach out to you at all on Friday evening or Saturday. You had half-expected a witty text or some excuse to drop by, but your phone remained stubbornly silent.

You told yourself you didn’t care. If Viktor wanted to brood or busy himself with his mysterious projects, that was his problem, not yours. You weren’t going to waste your weekend waiting for him to decide otherwise. So, when you overheard someone in the dorm hall mentioning a party on the third floor that evening, you figured it was better than wallowing in boredom.

[thethirdromana]

Was it regular or at least seen as normal for the 29-year-old to propose to a 19 year old? If so until when was this common in England or British Isles I suppose?

The short answer is yes, completely normal, and it was normal until about the 80s. You can get a sense from this chart, which shows median age at first marriage in England and Wales:

(from this blog, which also shows the same stats for the USA, where people have generally married a little younger and with a slightly larger age gap.)

Now I'm going to do a long answer under the cut because I find this subject fascinating. It ties into all kinds of questions, like who counts as an adult and what is marriage even for, where our answers have changed a lot and are still at least somewhat in flux.

In the 1890s, marriage was - in short - for starting a family. I mean, it was a lot more complicated than that, but this is a tumblr post not a book, so let's go with that. Couples in England did practise some element of family planning, which you can tell because the average fertility rate started falling from 1880 onwards (and I find it fascinating that this predates reliable contraception), but generally speaking it was a social expectation that women would not have sex outside of marriage, and if they did, they would get married on learning that they were pregnant.

The assumption that marriage = children was what informed acceptable ages for women to get married. Legally, boys could get married at 14 and girls at 12 provided that they had their parents' permission, but they very rarely did. It was widely recognised that early pregnancy was dangerous to girls' health - usually expressed as concern for their ability to bear children. That's where it was even possible, given that on average girls in the 1890s only started their periods at 17.

For example, the Lancet in 1883 published this about the ideal age for women to marry:

Prevention [of illness] is to be, in part, effected by avoidance of unions of immature women or of elderly women: in other words by securing that women are married at the age of nubility, or best age of marriage, with a view to fertility and the rearing of healthy children, and the safety of the mothers and this age is fairly well ascertained to be, for a population or mass of women, not under twenty and not above twenty five.

Obviously there were all sorts of other cultural pressures at play. A woman in Lucy's class, who would be expected not to work, was a cost to her family that they would ideally like to transfer to her husband. And a lot of the literature from this time assumes that young women will want to get married quickly; concerns about early marriage are often phrased around discouraging young women from being hasty, rather than the fear that their family will put them under pressure. Immaturity is raised as a concern, particularly from the perspective that young women might make unwise choices.

On the man's side of things, the important thing was being able to support a family. This was a little bit more complicated than we might imagine because a) some married women worked (about 40% of women were employed in the 1890s in Britain, about twice the rate of the USA), b) the work of wives in the household helped to save money, and c) after the age of 11 the kids could legally work too.

But generally speaking getting married was an expense that men needed to be able to afford, and more so the higher the class of the couple (because then both the wife and the children would be less likely to work).

That pushed men's first age at marriage older, and particularly so in higher classes where the expenses were greater. You can see that in this table from 1890:

Every main character is in that final "professional and independent class" section, and we can see that the suitors are very typical in wanting to marry in their late 20s, whereas Lucy is a little more unusual, though not unheard of, in being under 21.

It's also interesting that first marriage is clustered in a relatively narrow age band. Most people had married by the time they were 35, though again there are slightly more older bachelors in the middle and upper classes. It's from the late 19th century that the "half your age plus seven" rule for age gaps starts to appear - sometimes as an ideal age gap, but sometimes used in the same way as today, where relationships with a greater age gap are described as inappropriate. And we can see from the stats that actually, the average age gap has barely changed.

I think it's really the same set of considerations that made first marriage so young in the 1960s. The economy was doing well, so men were able to support a family earlier in life, but the pressure to get married in order to have sex and start a family remained. And young women were generally in much better health than their 1890s predecessors so could have children at a younger age more safely.

OK, so what changed in the 1970s that meant that age at first marriage started going up? One thing is that having children out of wedlock became more normal so there was gradually less need for a hurried wedding if you found out you or your partner was pregnant:

Reliable contraception (the pill was licensed for unmarried women in 1967) and access to abortion (decriminalised in England and Wales in 1967) also made it safer to have sex outside of marriage without the risk of pregnancy - so less need to get married in order to have sex.

Though the ultimate decoupling of sex and marriage in England and Wales only happened in 2023, when the age for legal marriage was raised to 18 (it had been 16 with parental consent) while the age of consent to sex remains at 16. The change happened quite quietly and the government was a bit embarrassed that they had allowed child marriage until then, but in some ways it was a significant step to say that actually, legally, sex can happen without marriage being an option.

Women's ability to work and to live independently is also a significant factor. Here's the female employment rate over time:

I would also expect the line to be a bit steeper if the ages covered were, say, 21 to 60 instead of 16 to 64, given a) the growing number of women in education from 16 to 21 who might not be working and b) comfortably-off professional women taking early retirement.

I can't find stats over the whole century for women's labour participation, but the milestone legislation of the Equal Pay Act in 1970 (which required equal pay between men and women for the same work) and the Sex Discrimination Act in 1975 (which made it unlawful to discriminate against individuals based on sex or marital status) significantly reduced the economic and social pressure on women to get married.

And of course in the modern day, it would be actively weird for Lucy to be getting married at 19. In England and Wales, of the 478,194 people marrying an opposite-sex partner in 2022, only 1,224 were under the age of 20 - 340 men and 884 women. That's 0.3%, and only marginally more than the percentage who were over 80.

[project-sekai-facts]

Tsukasa and Rui are known collectively amongst their classmates as "Oddball 1-2 Finish" (in the JP, KR, and TW servers. The English localisation calls them "Weirdo Wombo Combo"). Due to this, they are frequently asociated with the numbers 1, 2 and any combination or variation of the two (12, 21, etc), both individually and as a duo.

In terms of cover songs, there's Telecaster B-Boy, where they sing the counting part at the beginning. Tsukasa says the number 1, and Rui says the number 2. Tsukasa is Oddball 1, and Rui is Oddball 2.

There's also a lyric in Oki ni Mesu mama sung by Tsukasa, that goes "Waiting for the "1, 2..." signal, holding hands with you is an act of courage for me". Whilst the lyric itself is entirely coincidental, having Tsukasa sing it was very likely intentional. The cover supposedly represents the growth in trust between Tsukasa and Rui, so with that context in mind, one could view the lyric as a reference to Tsukasa reaching out his hand to Rui at the end of the main story, a significant step in the development of their mutual trust.

There's also a few instances of staff releasing content for them on the 21st of a month. Examples include the Fixer 2DMV, which released on September 21st 2023, and their 2022 Summer Memorial illustration releasing on the 21st of August that year. This was also the 12th illustration in that series.

Coincidentally, A Story Where You Are the Star released on the 22nd of November 2023, or 11/22, and featured them both as 4* cards on the accompanying gacha. The event was announced the day prior, on the 21st again. Possibly still a coincidence, or possibly intentionally, the Rui chapter of WonderlandsxShowtime's second World Link event is scheduled to end on the 12th of May 2025, and Tsukasa chapter starts the same day.

Rui's 3rd Anniversary Countdown illustration depicted their pillow fight from A Once-In-A-Lifetime Pandemonium!?, an event focused on their relationship, and was released 12 days before the anniversary.

The OST that plays during their Romeo and Juliet rehearsal in KAMIKOU FESTIVAL!, Ma・Ai no Theme ~True Love Song~, was later reused in A Song of Vows for You, Dressed in Pure White and released on the 2nd OST Album alongside the other music from that event. However, instead of being listed with the other tracks from that event on the album, it's listed as track 12.

Them being in class 3-C is a pun based on their status as Oddball 1-2. C is pronounced as "shi" in Japanese, which is the same as how the Japanese word for four is pronounced. Tsukasa and Rui being in class 3-C makes 1 2 3 4. Additionally, 1+2=3, and if you apply A=1, B-2, so on, then this also applies to A (Tsukasa's original class) + B (Rui's original class) =C.

There's also various smaller references, such as the full combo for KING on expert being 1002, Tsukasa growing 1cm and Rui growing 2cm at the 3rd anniversary, as well as Tsukasa telling Rui in the main story that he'll put 12000% into any role Rui gives him. The 12000% quote was also referenced in the 2DMV for their Dappou Rock cover.

[rosabell14]

An analysis of Bianca di Angelo's role in the narrative and why bad writing can screw over a character.

For someone with such a limited time in the narrative, Bianca is one of the most divisive characters in the fandom. I've been in the fandom long enough to see how much nuance the fandom lacks when discussing certain characters and Bianca is no difference. But it's more than just viewing the characters' actions in a vacuum. It's ignoring the larger narrative problems. At the end of the day Bianca suffers from one simple problem: she's barely a character outside of her role in Nico's narrative. Like it or not, her entire character exists to die and give Nico issues down the road but Riordan's writing decisions didn't do her any favours either.

I feel like this is a huge issue when it comes to the pjo fandom they often try to come up with Watsonian solutions to problems that are Doylist in nature and Bianca is one example of that.

Case in point: Riordan's shit math when it comes to the Di Angelo siblings and how it messes up with bianca's character.

So when we meet them they're 10 and 12. We learn that their memories of their past is kinda hazy and that they don't remember their parents but that they were in a boarding school, then they moved to the lotus hotel, then they were taken out of the hotel and put into Westover's. And at the end we learn that they're Hades's children born before the oath of the big 3.

Said oath happened after WW2 btw. So 1945 probably since Bianca remembers FDR's presidency.

Now in TLO we get an update on this backstory. Hades is speaking to Maria about moving his children to the underworld or the lotus hotel since Maria doesn't like the former option because the war has put Hades in a bad situation with his brothers and also the prophecy is out, the oath has been taken and they're running out of time to hide the kids. So logic says that it's 1945. And then Zeus immediately kills Maria and Hades tells Alecto to erase the children's memories and put them in the lotus hotel, and honestly? I like this version much better? Because why in the world would Hades Put his children in a boarding school for a few years and THEN hide them in the hotel after they were nearly assassinated? Why not immediately put them in the hotel?

And so we get to our main dilemma. Bianca having to raise Nico. This was already strange to me because it's not as if this is a Jason and Thalia situation where Jason was a toddler and Thalia had to take care of him. Nico is not a baby they have a two year age difference. But of course these kinds of things might matter more if you're young. Even then, in what situation would Bianca be Nico's main caretaker? They were put into a magic hotel that mind you, makes time go faster so for them it was a month or two at best and they would have been given whatever they needed by the staff? Same type of issue with Westover's and the boarding school if you want consider that canon. They would have been taken care of by the facility. They probably wouldn't even have shared classes or dorms? Or am I misunderstanding American boarding schools?

And then, Riordan's bad math strikes again and this time with the characters' ages. Because Nico's age in HoO becomes 14 which would have made him 11/almost 12 in TTC but that's not the big problem, no no no. The problem comes from his official birthday which is 1932.

1932... Which would have made him 13 and Bianca 15 by the time Maria dies. Which is hilarious because with the way the kids are written during her death scene as absolute non players with nary a reaction, you would think they were written to be toddlers who didn't understand anything that was going on.

That royally screws over Bianca as a character (and me as someone who's trying to write a story centered around her). Because her main thing. The one time she's allowed to have complexity is the moment where she talks about how she wants to be more than Nico's caretaker, and she's barely Nico's caretaker at all. The best in universe explanation I can come up for this is that this is how Bianca perceives things because that's all that she literally remembers. Those months in the hotel and Westovers.

Another time the plot kinda messes her up is at the beginning of TTC. One complaint that I often see in regards to her Is how quickly she makes her decision. She does not even hesitate. She does not even wait to see the camp. You know the place that would have taken care of her and Nico which would have meant she wasn't going to be his supposed primary caretaker anymore? She doesn't even wait to see if it was an actual good place for her brother? Spoiler alert: it's not camp half-blood at the time was not a good place for either of them really. Nico did not have a cabin at camp and people were not accepting of him. Hell, people not being accepting of hades and his children was something established since the first book.

But once again, this is a Doylist problem at its core. We need to turn Bianca into a hunter but we also need Artemis to leave so that she can be kidnapped for the main conflict, so she leaves before the hunters even reach camp. Half-blood. So Bianca as a character doesn't even get to make a proper choice between the camp and the hunters. To people who only look at characters on an in universe level, it comes off as very rash and not well thought out.

To be fair, on an in universe level, she's a kid so it's okay if she's stupid, but Riordan wasn't trying to make her come off as that way? He treats Bianca's decision as a legit serious choice and not the rash decision of a desperate child.

And once again, Bianca is here for Nico's sake more than anything. She needs to die. So she takes the statue for Nico. Which is so ironic and tragic if you decide to play it that way. That Bianca wanted to be more than Nico's sister, but her literal death revolves around being his sister. Normally I'd enjoy this level of angsty irony but unfortunately that's how the very narrative treats her as well. Even her post mortem decisions are there to maximize Nico's angst more than that they're there to say anything about Bianca herself. We need Bianca to only appear at the end of Botl so that Nico and Percy can have a conflict but it once again comes at the cost of Bianca herself coming off as callous. What's the in universe reason for this behavior? It's so stupid because in universe, Nico doesn't even take that much convincing? One conversation. One conversation and Nico was convinced to stop his efforts in reviving her. Does she just not know her brother enough? Maybe since they technically know each other for a year max. Does she genuinely think she's that easy to give up on? Is she that conflict avoidant? I actually like this interpretation and plan to use it. There's much to be done with a character who's rash and bold but an absolute emotional coward who'd try to avoid an emotionally charged conversation until they absolutely can't.

Hell even after Botl, it's the same song and dance. Hades makes an absolute vile remark at Nico's expense. TSATS makes it into a joke moment and has you believe that Hades simple said that Bianca would have been a better demigod. No ladies and gentlemen. Hades literally tells Nico that he wished Bianca had survived instead.(The fact that I still think that hades is the best godly parent just shows you how low the bar is more than anything.)

I swear to God I spent so much time racking my brain trying to understand what this could mean for Bianca's character.

This is how I basically look like trying to milk every scene where Bianca is there as a character or is mentioned for every drop of characterization.

At the end of the day, I can't blame most of the fandom for being ambivalent towards her at best. The story by design is about Nico. It's designed for you to sympathize with him and yeah if I'm to look at it from Nico's perspective. He DID get abandoned, regardless of Bianca's intentions. From his Perspective , which is the one most people would take, his sister took the very first chance she could to ditch him for people she barely knew hoping people either of them barely knew would take care of him even though they haven't even seen the place yet, and then ignored him for months while he was desperate for a single conversation with her. Honestly had Nico outright resented his sister for leaving, I think the reaction towards her would have even been worse.

(Another sidenote, my very hot tea Is that I like to believe that had Bianca lived her and Nico's relationship would have become worse as time went on and as the camp's anti hades sentiments really started taking their toll on Nico. But I'm just an angst lover)

Worse is that this story is told from Percy's perspective and these two only have like 3 actual conversations together. One of them is her dying, one is about her making her first main decision and that's at the expense of Nico who's probably the fandom favorite behind Percy and Annabeth and the other is her trying to explain her aforementioned decision to Percy and even then, she talks about it in such broad strokes. "I want to be more than X" tells us about who you one day wish to be not about who you are at the current moment. And even when we have Nico as a POV character, Bianca is only there for "dead family member" trope. There's barely any moment where Nico remembers anything important about her to give her any depth. The cards are just stacked against her. Even the people who are at the "Bianca did nothing wrong camp" are barely interested in her. I swear to god whenever an AU comes up where she's alive, the focus is STILL on Nico. Oh Nico would have been such a happy person had she lived! And Bianca? Uhhhhh she would have fucked off with the hunters I guess?

Can we talk about the hunters while we're here?

If we WERE to talk about in universe scapegoats, I'd honestly choose the hunters. Honestly I could make a separate post about how much I hate how Riordan handled them. But oh dear God the way they're presented just comes off as creepy. The way they initially (up until TOA) only go for young girls because apparently older girls aren't useful once they hit puberty and start developing feelings for people and lose themselves(TTC and Percy Jackson's Greek gods oh dear lord are they terrible in Percy Jackson's Greek gods). How they're basically the heroine dumping ground for when Riordan doesn't know what to do with a female character. How ultimately in universe, Zoe more than anyone is to blame to for Bianca's death by taking an untrained girl to a mission where she KNOWS two people would die at the very least. And she doesn't even watch her properly during the mission. Honestly I could barely feel anything about Zoe's death upon rereads as an adult for this very reason. Or how stupid it is to basically put a child in front of a candy store and expect them to make a responsible decision. Who in their right mind would have young girls as young as nine take a celibacy vow? Oh but you'll be safe with us (never mind that we're not just normal hunters here like the actual myths but actual monster hunters) and you'll totally be able to see your brother when you want (actually we barely visit camp half-blood) oh but you'll be a FAMILY with us! Except you know if you catch feelings or get assaulted(holy hell how Riordan depicts the myth of Callisto makes me want to tear my hair out of my scalp)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

American education has all the downsides of standardization, none of the upsides

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

We moved to America in 2015, in time for my kid to start third grade. Now she's a year away from graduating high school (!) and I've had a front-row seat for the US K-12 system in a district rated as one of the best in the country. There were ups and downs, but high school has been a monster.

We're a decade and a half into the "common core" experiment in educational standardization. The majority of the country has now signed up to a standardized and rigid curriculum that treats overworked teachers as untrustworthy slackers who need to be disciplined by measuring their output through standard lessons and evaluations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Core

This system is rigid enough, but it gets even worse at the secondary level, especially when combined with the Advanced Placement (AP) courses, which adds another layer of inflexible benchmarks to the highest-stakes, most anxiety-provoking classes in the system:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advanced_Placement

It is a system singularly lacking in grace. Ironically, this unforgiving system was sold as a way of correcting the injustice at the heart of the US public education system, which funds schools based on local taxation. That means that rich neighborhoods have better funded schools. Rather than equalizing public educational funding, the standardizers promised to ensure the quality of instruction at the worst-funded schools by measuring the educational outcomes with standard tools.

But the joke's on the middle-class families who backed standardized instruction over standardized funding. Their own kids need slack as much as anyone's, and a system that promises to put the nation's kids through the same benchmarks on the same timetable is bad for everyone:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/28/give-me-slack-2/

Undoing this is above my pay-grade. I've already got more causes to crusade on than I have time for. But there is a piece of tantalyzingly low-hanging fruit that is dangling right there, and even though I'm not gonna pick it, I can't get it out of my head, so I figured I'd write about it and hope I can lazyweb it into existence.

The thing is, there's a reason that standardization takes hold in so many domains. Agreeing on a common standard enables collaboration by many entities without any need for explicit agreements or coordination. The existence of the ANSI/SAE J563 standard automobile auxiliary power outlet (AKA "car cigarette lighter") didn't just allow many manufacturers to make replacement lighter plugs. The existence of a standardized receptacle delivering standardized voltage to standardized contacts let all kinds of gadgets be designed to fit in that socket.

Standards crystallize the space of all possible ways of solving a problem into a range of solutions. This inevitably has a downside, because the standardized range might not be optimal for all applications. Think of the EU's requirement for USB-C charger tips on all devices. There's a lot of reasons that manufacturers prefer different charger tips for different gadgets. Some of those reasons are bad (gouging you on replacement chargers), but some are good (unique form-factor, specific smart-charging needs). USB-C is a very flexible standard (indeed, it's so flexible that some people complain that it's not a standard at all!) but there are some applications where the optimal solution is outside its parameters.

And still, I think that the standardization on USB-C is a force for good. I have drawers full of gadgets that need proprietary charger tips, and other drawers full of chargers with proprietary tips, and damned if I can make half of them match up. We've continued our pandemic lockdown tradition of my wife cutting my hair in the back yard, and just tracking the three different charger tips for the three clippers she uses is an ongoing source of frustration. I'd happily trade slightly sub-optimal charging for just being able to plug any of those clippers into the same cable I charge my headphones, phone, tablet and laptop on.

The standardization of American education has produced all the downsides of standardization – a rigid, often suboptimal, one-size-fits-all system – without the benefits. With teachers across America teaching in lockstep, often from the same set texts (especially in the AP courses), there's a massive opportunity for a commons to go with the common core.

For example, the AP English and History classes my kid takes use standard texts that are often centuries old and hard to puzzle out. I watched my kid struggle with texts for learning about "persuasive rhetoric" like 17th century pamphlets that inspired anti-indigenous pogroms with fictional accounts of "Indian atrocities."

It's good for American schoolkids to learn about the use of these blood libels to excuse genocide, but these pamphlets are a slog. Even with glossaries in the textbooks, it's a slow, word-by-word matter to parse these out. I can't imagine anyone learning a single thing about how speech persuades people just by reading that text.

But there's nothing in the standardized curriculum that prevents teachers from adding more texts to the unit. We live in an unfortunate golden age for persuasive texts that inspire terrible deeds – for example, kids could also read core Pizzagate texts and connect the guy who shot up the pizza parlor to the racists who formed a 17th century lynchmob.

But teachers are incredibly time-constrained. For one thing, at least a third of the AP classroom time seems to be taken up with detailed instructions for writing stilted, stylized "essays" for the AP tests (these are terrible writing, but they're easy to grade in a standardized way).

That's where standardization could actually deliver some benefits. If just one teacher could produce some supplemental materials and accompanying curriculum, the existence of standards means that every other teacher could use it. What's more, any adaptations that teachers make to that unit to make them suited to their kids would also work for the other teachers in the USA. And because the instruction is so rigidly standardized, all of these materials could be keyed to metadata that precisely identified the units they belonged to.

The closest thing we have to this are "marketplaces" where teachers can sell each other their supplementary materials. As far as I can tell, the only people making real money from these marketplaces are the grifters who built them and convinced teachers to paywall the instructional materials that could otherwise form a commons.

Like I said, I've got a completely overfull plate, but if I found myself at loose ends, trying to find a project to devote the rest of my life to, I'd be pitching funders on building a national, open access portal to build an educational commons.

It may be a lot to expect teachers to master the intricacies of peer-based co-production tools like Git, but there's already a system like this that K-8 teachers across the country have mastered: Scratch. Scratch is a graphic programming environment for kids, and starting with 2019's Scratch 3.0, the primary way to access it is via an in-browser version that's hosted at scratch.mit.edu.

Scratch's online version is basically a kid- (and teacher-)friendly version of Github. Find a project you like, make a copy in your own workspace, and then mod it to suit your own needs. The system keeps track of the lineage of different projects and makes it easy for Scratch users to find, adapt, and share their own projects. The wild popularity of this system tells us that this model for a managed digital commons for an educational audience is eminently achievable.

So when students are being asked to study the rhythm of text by counting the numbers of words in the sentences of important speeches, they could supplement that very boring exercise by listening to and analyzing contemporary election speeches, or rap lyrics, or viral influencer videos. Different teachers could fork these units to swap in locally appropriate comparitors – and so could students!

Students could be given extra credit for identifying additional materials that slot into existing curricular projects – Tiktok videos, new chart-topping songs, passages from hot YA novels. These, too, could go into the commons.

This would enlist students in developing and thinking critically about their curriculum, whereas today, these activities are often off-limits to students. For example, my kid's math teachers don't hand back their quizzes after they're graded. The teachers only have one set of quizzes per unit, and letting the kids hold onto them would leak an answer-key for the next batch of test-takers.

I can't imagine learning math this way. "You got three questions wrong but I won't let you see them" is no way to help a student focus on the right areas to improve their understanding.

But there's no reason that math teachers in a commons built around the (unfortunately) rigid procession of concepts and testing couldn't generate procedural quizzes, specified with a simple programming language. These tests could even be automatically graded, and produce classroom stats on which concepts the whole class is struggling with. Each quiz would be different, but cover the same ground.

When I help my kid with her homework, we often find disorganized and scattered elements of this system – a teacher might post extensive notes on teaching a specific unit. A publisher might produce a classroom guide that connects a book to specific parts of the common core. But these are scattered across the web, and they aren't keyed to the specific, standard components of common core and AP.

This is a standardized system that is all costs, no benefits. It has no "architecture of participation" that lets teachers, students, parents, practitioners and even commercial publishers collaborate to produce a commons that all may share and improve upon.

In an ideal world, we'd get rid of standardization in education, pay teachers well, give them the additional time they needed to prepare exciting and relevant curriculum, and fund all our schools based on need, not parents' income.

But in the meanwhile, we could be making lemonade of out lemons. If we're going to have standardization, we should at least have the collaboration standards enable.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/16/flexibility-in-the-margins/#a-commons

[greasegotahold]

Lots of debate on the timeline of events in the outsiders and ages fitting into that, but according to Hinton Pony was born July 22, and he'd been 14 for about a month (line in the movie) when the main events kick off. That would put the murder during late August, which is exactly when that schoolyear would be starting. They only hide out for 5 days, which would put them at early September when they end up back home.

The rumble, Johnny's death, Dally's death, and Pony's concussion fainting happens the night after they get home.

Ponyboy comes to after 3 days, then ends up on bedrest for another week, where he displays delusional thought.

The Juvenile Court hearing presumably occurs shortly after that bedrest, as Pony is still not considered fit to testify on the murder, placing it squarely into the month of September.

It's not super clear how long the depressive episode lasts for Pony, but it's long enough that he is failing his classes and Syme is offering to bring him up to a C. Recalling my high school days, overall grades for fall semester were usually evident by like mid October, so I would give Pony 2-3 weeks, maybe a full month before Syme reaches out.

However, we also know Pony was procrastinating on his assignment, it's part of Darry's nagging iirc, so that + the theme being a final project for the semester, it was probably due mid-late November/maaaayyybe early December.

This is where ages come in bc some of the ages we have from the TV Show Bible don't align with the story's events happening in August.

However.

We know that we are reading Ponyboy's theme. It ends cyclical to the beginning, and there's also evident effort on Ponyboy's end to avoid writing profanity into his recollection. He's 14, been to Hell and back, and also procrastinated on his essay. That is to say, I'd believe it if the argument was made that for some of the surviving characters, he just mentioned how old they were at the time of writing.

Side note, too, that the musical does corroborate the main events happening in late August imo, as it explicitly ties the Curtis Parents' deaths to Darry's birthday; Darry was born January 5, and they died 8 months before the story took place; 8 months from January is obviously September, technically. However. Looking at the calendar year for 1967 (the musical is bumped up 2 years), Darry's birthday fell on the first Thursday of January. If Pony's birthday is July 22nd and it's been a month (not confirmed in the musical to have been a month, but confirmed that he would be 15 next July), the Friday Night Drive-In encounter would have been August 25 (literally the first week of school), 7 months and 3 weeks after the crash; technically not 8 months, but extremely close. If we want to push it closer and move the events a week later, then the drive in would have happened September 1.

In conclusion, my proposed book timeline, cross-referenced with calendars and given school start dates:

Tuesday, January 5, 1965—Darry's Birthday, potentially also the death of Curtis Parents

Thursday, July 22, 1965—Ponyboy's 14th birthday

Thursday, August 26, 1965—Pony gets jumped

Friday, August 27, 1965—Pony goes to the drive-in, Johnny kills Bob (technically this happens in the wee hours of Saturday, but the jumping that led to it was a consequence of the drive in so I'm lumping them)

Saturday, August 28-Wednesday, September 1, 1965— (technically the actual time of Bob's murder) + Windrixville hideout + fire + Hospital reunion

Thursday, September 2, 1965—Rumble + Johnny's death + Dally's Death + Pony's concussion

Friday, September 3-Sunday, September 5, 1965—Pony in feverish delirium

Monday, September 6-Sunday, September 12, 1965—Pony on Bedrest

Monday, September 13, 1965—Juvenile Court

Tuesday, September 14, 1965-Depressive fugue begins

Monday, October 11 or 18, 1965—Mr Syme alerts Ponyboy of his failing grade+presents semester's final project in the form of a personal theme.

Mid November, 1965—theme is written

[seullovesme]

Beneath the Mask » bae irene

pairing ⥬ popular!irene x band!reader, school au

synopsis ⥬ Irene Bae is not just the most sought after girl in your school, and she's also one of the smartest students along with her friends. You were just an average student who would barely pass classes with b's and c's, and who fell for the girl. The only time you ever had a chance to be seen was when you were performing with a mask on stage, but maybe that's not always a good thing.

warnings ⥬ angst, swearing, suggestive, enemies to lovers, reader's apart of a masked band

status ⥬ ongoing w/ updates every friday

profiles ⥬ the it girls (privs) | the music nerds (privs)

prologue. brink of failing

01. arranged tutoring

02. stressing over nothing

03. oh shit

04. out of bae's league

05. boundaries set, dreams crushed

06. headcannons

07. case of the missing bass

08. rehearsals r fun? (mostly written)

09. performance hype

10. new hit group!

11. the prep

12.

13.



(open) TAGLIST: @winieter @hrurchives @cinnamonhaha @ireneanon @mishbyulyi @jeindall777 @nasyu-kookies @limbforalimb @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @brocoliisscared @yerisdumbass @jisooftme @pandafuriosa60 @hwabyul4wheesun @blue4hour @kyuusberry

[kakao-lovey]

🦋 My highly detailed 2 week glow-up challenge (Wellness-based)

I have a two-week holiday coming up (As of next Monday) and there is nothing I like more than a good, solid wellness plan, which is what I'm going to be doing. Follow along if you like, I will be posting daily updates, and interact with this post to keep me accountable.

Objectives:

Regain some of my fitness so I can play sports again

Fix my gut health

De-stress

Improve skin and hair health

🏐Workout plan

Warm-up: Stretches (Arm circles, leg swings, hip flexor/hamstring stretch, squat hamstring stretch) 10–15 mins on treadmill with slight incline

Core:

15 knee crunches

15 In-and-outs

15 sit-ups

15 leg circles

30-second side plank (each side)

Legs:

15 Deep goblet squats

15 Back lunges

15 Split squats

15 Side lying leg lifts (Each side)

30 Donkey kicks

Arms:

(Each side)

15 bent-over rows

15 bicep curls

15 lateral raises

15 Tricep raises

15 tricep dips

Day 1: (Pilates class) Core, legs

Day 2: 20-30 minute walk

Day 3: Core, arms

Day 4: Legs x 3

Day 5: Dance workout

Day 6: Core, arms

Day 7: Rest, walk, stretch

Week 2: repeat

🥥Meal plan:

Breakfast: Oats and/or yoghurt and/or soy milk, nuts and seeds, two fruit, green tea

Snack: strawberry protein shake <3

Lunch: Tuna/Chicken/2 Eggs, green vegetables and vitamin C (Bell pepper, orange, tomato), mint tea

Dinner: Whatever my family makes + added vegetables and fruit if needed

Late-night: hibiscus tea + honey

Sundays is a cheat day, which means I'll still be prioritising whole foods but will eat processed food and sugar. This is just a rough sketch, but I need scaffolding to base my meals around, or I end up having too little. (What a problem, right?)

🍵Habits

I will edit this post to use as a habit tracker, and I will keep you updated.

- 2 Litres of water *throughout* the day (Not just in one sitting)

- 15 minutes of morning sunlight

- Iron supplements (Medical people don't come at me, I'm actually deficient)

- Reading a little (2 chapters or 20 minutes)

- Journalling every day

- Just a little bit of revision, one or two hours

Day 1 (March 17): ✔️❌✔️✔️❌✔️

Day 2:

Day 3:

Day 4:

Day 5:

Day 6:

Day 7:

Day 8:

Day 9:

Day 10:

Day 11:

Day 12:

Day 13:

Day 14:

That's about it. Pinky promise to keep you up to date. Bye!

~ Kakao

[persevereforahappyending]

A Beacon in the Dark |16|

Pairing: Joey x Reader

Summary: Joey likes helping people, it's what she's best at. Hunting down the monsters of myth and legend might be the best way to save people.

Warnings: Bullet Wound, Blood, Medical like procedure

Word Count: 6.1k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21

Ana ran the towel through her hair as she got out of the shower. She had been in the military, been through boot camp, survived being attacked by a fucking vampire, and had survived countless monster attacks with you, but training with you was the most she had broken a sweat. She understood what you were trying to do, she appreciated that you wanted her to be prepared for anything, she still couldn’t imagine ever hurting you. Maybe at one point in time she could have, she wasn’t afraid to do everything she could to survive the first time she saw your other half, but now, after getting to know you, she wasn’t sure she could pull the trigger, even with you in your wolf form staring back at her.

Ana checked her phone, she still had just enough time to change and head out to pick up Caleb. She couldn’t help but wonder if you planned it that way. You knew what time Caleb’s school started and got out, it was why you were so timely, almost concerningly so. This time you not only got Ana there in time, but you got her there with just enough time for her to get a shower in.

Ana quickly changed, making sure her hair was dry enough before heading out. She walked quickly down the street and got to the school’s entrance just as they opened the doors to let the students out. She waited patiently, instantly finding the top of Caleb’s head as he made his way down the steps, waving goodbye to his friends once his eyes found her.

“How was school?” Ana asked as they began the walk back home.

“Fine,” Caleb answered with a shrug.

“Got lot of homework?” Ana glanced down at Caleb.

“Mostly math,” he kicked a little pebble that was on the sidewalk.

Caleb did well in school. Ana was an average student, getting mostly B’s and C’s if she struggled with the class. She wasn’t sure where Caleb got his brilliance from since he tended to bring home A’s and B’s at worst. Despite knowing the stuff and doing fine when it came time for tests and quizzes, Caleb still seemed to despise math. He struggled with a few problems and would eventually have to ask Ana for help. Ana was always more than willing of course, even if she herself had to google the formulas because the method Caleb was supposed to use was different than what she learned or she just didn’t learn the stuff. Once Caleb was shown how to do it though and he saw the problem broken down he quickly mastered it and would finish the rest of the homework in no time.

“Well,” Ana started, though her breath caught in her throat. Things had been better between them, but she was still nervous to just ask Caleb if he wanted to do something fun or just spend some time with her. “I heard about a carnival not too far away, was wondering if you’d maybe want to check it out?”

Caleb’s footsteps caught on the sidewalk, but he quickly caught himself. To anyone else it would have looked like he had just gotten tripped up, but Ana knew her son and knew he had been caught off guard by her question. As the seconds ticked by as she waited for Caleb’s answer, she couldn’t help but question everything. Just because they were in a decent place didn’t mean Caleb was ready to do anything fun with her, then she started questioning whether kids still found carnivals fun. She loved the carnival when she was Caleb’s age, the rides, the games, and all the deep-fried food.

“Sure,” Caleb finally answered. Ana waited because it didn’t sound like he was done yet. “I’ve never been to one before,” he whispered.

Ana thought her heart was done breaking over all the mistakes she made with her son, but apparently not. She had missed so much of Caleb’s life she hadn’t ever even taken him to a carnival. It seemed stupid but she didn’t know a kid who didn’t go to a carnival, a festival, or a fair of some kind, and yet she had yet to do that with her son until now.

“Great,” Ana smiled. She would make sure this was the best carnival Caleb had ever been to. He would have all the experiences she had failed to give him until now. This was also the first time Caleb agreed to do something fun with her, she couldn’t risk screwing this up and have him pull away again.

“We can leave in a few hours, give you some time to get some homework done.”

Caleb nodded and they continued their walk in a comfortable silence. Ana took note of the small smile on Caleb’s face. It was just a simple carnival but how the night went would decide so much. If Caleb didn’t have fun, then he could pull away from her again, stop talking to her besides one-word answer, but if it went well, it could lead more to strengthening their relationship and maybe allow Caleb to want to do more things with her, maybe even one day even go on a nice vacation.

After they got back home Caleb went straight to his room to get started on his homework. Ana smiled to herself; she had never seen him so eager to get started on schoolwork. She made her way to the kitchen and began preparing a small snack for each of them, keeping it simple with sandwiches and chips. She might not win mother of the year but that wasn’t going to stop her and Caleb from indulging in all the sweet treats and fried food the carnival had to offer, she would make up for it by fixing a nice healthy meal tomorrow night.

As she gave the sandwich a diagonal slice and was putting on the finishing touches when she felt her phone vibrate. She frowned when she picked it up and saw your name, she had just been with you. “What’s wrong?” Ana asked, not wasting any time on hellos.

“Nothing,” you chuckled. Ana narrowed her eyes; it was never nothing when you called. “Just got a potential job. Might be something, might be nothing, just need to do recon.” Ana let out a hum, she had never done any recon with you, whenever you called her for a job, all the research was already done, you knew where you were going and had some idea what was happening. “Want to join?”

She opened her mouth but hesitated. She did want to go; she wanted to experience more of what you and Grace did. She loved the freedom she had, not having to do anything until a job came around but she was curious about the whole process. One day she wanted to ask Grace how she found cases, what determined which case they’d take. From the sound of it there were many cases, but you prioritized some over another and from experience she knew the two of you sometimes waited years before making a move.

She let out a sigh, she had a prior commitment though and her son was more important than any job. “I promised to take Caleb to a carnival tonight,” she said. You knew how important her son was to her, there was no reason trying to be vague, if anyone would understand it would be you.

“I can see if he can go with a friend,” Ana began talking more to herself. She was sure she could convince one of his friends’ parents to take the kids, especially if she was floating the bill. “Or maybe take him tomorrow.” The carnival was there all weekend, there was now reason they had to go on Friday night.

“It’s fine,” you said before she could come up with anymore solutions. “It’s just recon. It’s all good.”

Ana hesitated once again. She didn’t know what recon entailed; she wasn’t sure how dangerous it actually was. There was still a risk though, you’d be going to a place that had reports of danger, and you’d start investigating, maybe even staking out a few people. There was no telling what you’d find though, if you stumbled on the wrong person or into the wrong place it could go from a simple recon mission to something that was a whole lot worse.

“Are you sure?” Ana asked. She didn’t want to give up time with her son, not when they were making such good progress, but it didn’t sit right the with her, letting you go out there on your own. She knew you were a werewolf, but you weren’t invincible.

“Yes,” you assured her. “Enjoy the carnival. You deserve it.” Ana couldn’t help but smile to herself. She could hardly think of something she did that allowed her to enjoy something like this, but she didn’t argue with you.

“Okay,” she finally said, though still a bit hesitant. She couldn’t help the thought of something happening to you and her not being there from crossing her mind.

“I’ll be fine.”

Ana let out a huff, hardly anything good ever came from someone saying they’d be fine. “Be careful.”

“And you have fun.”

The call ended and Ana had to shake her head, she didn’t realize she had been smiling. It was a small thing; it was so simple and insignificant, but it was still very you. You were about to go who knew where, investigating who knew what, and one of your priorities was still making sure Ana had fun with her son. She wasn’t sure which life and death situation it was that made her start to see all your good qualities, everything past the annoying asshole persona. You were still very much annoying, but Ana had never met someone who cared so deeply for people they barely knew.

Ana finished up the sandwiches and gave a small knock on Caleb’s door as she took him his snack. She waited for the okay and then she entered. Caleb was at his desk, his laptop pulled up and his notebook out as he wrote down formulas and put the answer into the worksheet online.

Ana sat the sandwich down on the side of the table and almost instantly Caleb’s eyes flicked to it. “Made a snack,” Ana said.

“Thanks,” Caleb mumbled.

“Need any help?”

Caleb shook his head. “I think I have it figured out.” He reached over and grabbed a chip before popping it into his mouth.

Ana smiled and made her exit. She grabbed her own plate and took a seat on the couch. She grabbed the remote and flipped through channels until she found some old movie that was on. She wasn’t big on TV watching but it was a great time killer while she waited for Caleb.

After about an hour Caleb came out of his room, instantly putting his empty plate in the sink and then stood before Ana. Ana glanced up from the movie. “Ready?” She asked.

Caleb nodded and Ana grabbed her own empty plate and sat it on top of Caleb’s. She ordered an Uber and grabbed her wallet and keys before they made their way out the door. It was less than a five-minute wait before the Uber was pulling up for them. They got in the car and then they were off. The carnival was only about twenty minutes away, but Ana couldn’t stop checking her phone, she kept expecting a message from you or Grace saying something happened.

When they pulled up to the carnival it was in full swing, the rides were going, and Ana could already see lines for the ticket booth and a few snack stands. They hopped in the ticket line, which was moving quickly and before she knew it Ana was buying two tickets. When they crossed over the threshold to officially enter the carnival Ana glanced down at Caleb and saw his eyes wide as they stared at everything.

Bright lights were coming off of almost every surface, they could already smell the popcorn and funnel cakes frying, the sound of the rides running and kids screaming in joy filled the air. There was a loud ding as someone won a prize and was handed a large stuffed animal.

“Where do you want to start?” Ana asked.

Caleb looked all around and then pointed to one of the rides. They walked over and it was one of the ones where they got in an apple and spun around while the ride itself spun around as well. Ana handed the guy their tickets and they chose one of the apples and locked themselves into place. While they waited for the ride to start Caleb didn’t seem to blink as he took everything in.

The announcer said the ride would start soon and then there as a loud buzz and they were off. Ana made sure to spin the wheel, so the apple spun faster and faster. Caleb’s giggle was the only thing Ana could hear as they continued to spin around. The ride slowly came to a stop, but Caleb’s laughter never died, he continued giggling until they were well off the ride and walking around.

“Want something to eat?” Ana asked.

Caleb nodded and Ana led him to one of the food stands. They waited in line and when they got to the front Ana ordered an assortment. She wanted Caleb to experience everything and if he didn’t want something then she’d just eat it. She ordered two corn dogs, chili cheese fries, two large sodas, and even some loaded nachos. She figured once they were full, they’d ride some rides, probably play some games and then before they left try the various desserts.

Ana stacked the fries on top of the corn dogs and carried the nachos in her other hand while Caleb took the sodas. They found an empty picnic table and laid their food out as they sat across from each other. Caleb’s eyes widened at the amount of food and the large proportions of the nachos and fries.

“If you don’t like anything I know there’s a pizza stand nearby,” Ana said, she didn’t want him to feel forced to eat any of it.

Caleb nodded and then picked up one of the corn dogs, tilting it in his hand as he gave it a curious look. Ana couldn’t believe he had never had one before, she was sure he had seen them, but trying them was a whole new experience. He picked off a bit of the breading and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly before he smiled. Ana chuckled as he took a large bite off the top of the corn dog.

“You know what’s really good?” Ana asked.

Caleb tilted his head as he continued to take another chunk out of the corn dog. Ana reached over and grabbed a packet of ketchup and drizzled it down the other corn dog then took a bite. Caleb’s eyes lit up as if he didn’t realize he could add ketchup. He quickly grabbed a packet of ketchup and added it to the last half of his corn dog.

When they made it to the chili cheese fries, they were still warm, and the cheese had perfectly melted. Ana grabbed a small handful of fries and shoved them into her mouth then smiled as Caleb did the same thing. Ana rotated between the fries and nachos, but Caleb had still seemed hesitant on the nachos. She was sure loaded nachos were a little intimidating for a kid with not only cheese but peppers and various other things on it. Caleb wasn’t an overly picky kid, but it was still a lot for someone trying them for the first time.

Caleb grabbed a nacho, managing to have a glob of cheese and a small pepper on the chip. He slowly brought it to his mouth and even closed one eye as he took a bite, clearly expecting it to be hot. When he realized they weren’t too hot he shoved the rest of the chip in his mouth.

“Which was your favorite?” Ana asked when they were all done.

“Chili cheese fries!” Caleb answered instantly.

Ana chuckled; he really was her son. “Mine too.”

They threw their trash away and continued on their way to more rides. They didn’t do anything that spun or dropped since they just ate but they had a blast at the other things. There was even a fun house they went through with various dead ends and clowns that seemed to pop out of nowhere. By the time they were done they felt okay enough to get on the ride they took them all the way up and dropped them. As they got to the top of the ride Caleb leaned forward, trying to take in the entire view of the carnival. It was a decently sized carnival, and they could see everything from up there, see all the games and lines of people, the lights shining below them.

After their last ride they grabbed some ice cream, Caleb getting classic vanilla with rainbow sprinkles and Ana opting for chocolate and vanilla twist with chocolate sprinkles. During their time there Ana couldn’t help the way her mind drifted back to you and how she knew you’d have a blast if you were with them. She had a feeling you’d be eager to go on every ride and would eat nearly everything on the menu with your werewolf metabolism. Something also told her you would be extra competitive, or at least just that cocky that you’d insist on playing more than one of the games and winning the big prize that you’d have no real use for.

They did pick out a couple games to play, even though Ana knew they were a waste of money the majority of the time. The first game they chose was one of those little water squirter ones, where they raced and who’s ever rocket got to the top first won. Ana smiled as she heard Caleb’s laughter over all the sounds of the game.

When Ana’s little rocket reached the top a flashing light went off and the ringing of a bell went off. Caleb turned to her; his smile widened than she had ever seen. The guy running the game pointed to the wall of smaller prizes Ana was allowed to choose from. He also gave her the option to play again because if she kept playing and winning, she could keep upgrading her prize until she got to one of the oversized ones.

“What do you think?” She asked Caleb.

Caleb tilted his head and rubbed his chin as if he was giving this decision some serious thought. Finally, Caleb smiled and pointed at the little fuzzy black wolf plush. The man behind the counter unclipped the wolf from where it was hanging and handed it over to Caleb with a smile. Caleb held the wolf out and then gave it a tight squeeze.

They continued on with a few more games from ring toss, which they each lost, to a basketball game, though Ana only managed to make one basket. Lastly, they played the game where they had to knock down all the empty milk bottles with a softball. Ana was more than happen to let Caleb throw the ball, but he handed it over to her. She gave him a playful eyeroll but happily took it. The first ball she threw knocked down all the bottles, the second one knocked down all but one, and the third knocked them down but not off their little podium.

Ana sighed, to win one of the big prizes they had to knock down all the bottles and they had to fall off the podium. Since she knocked down one set of bottles though the man behind the counter pulled out a box of small prizes and held it out for her to choose from. She dug through the box and finally pulled out a little mermaid keychain. Ana couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she was reminded about the job that involved hunting down sirens, despite the trauma she still felt for the ocean because of all that she took the keychain.

To end their night, they ordered a funnel cake as their last dessert. Ana decided to keep it simple, getting one with powder sugar and chocolate fudge drizzled over the top. When they sat down Ana ordered their Uber for home, knowing it should arrive by the time they were done eating.

Ana handed Caleb a fork, even though she’d preferred to pick it apart with her hands she didn’t want either of their chocolate-covered hands making a mess in someone else’s car. Caleb looked at the dessert that took up the entire paper plate with wide eyes. He waited until Ana ripped off a piece with her own fork and popped into her mouth before trying some himself.

When they were all done Caleb still managed to get his hands covered in chocolate. There was a small outdoor makeshift sink near the bathrooms that she used to help him clean off his hands. By the time his hands were completely free of chocolate they were rushing to the entrance where uber would be arriving in less than two minutes. They had just made it and weren’t even waiting thirty seconds before the Uber pulled up and they hopped into the vehicle.

Caleb dozed off almost immediately and Ana couldn’t help but notice how peaceful he looked as she brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes. She saw the little plush wolf tucked under his arm, she noted how similar it looked to you in your wolf from, though not nearly as terrifying. She was sure you’d enjoy knowing her son chose a wolf that reminded her of you, though she would never tell you that, your ego didn’t need that kind of boost.

Ana gently nudged Caleb awake when they got closer to home. Ana was sure she was strong enough to carry him, he didn’t weigh that much, but he was way too tall for her to be doing that. When they pulled up outside of the apartment complex Caleb sleepily slid out of the car and dragged himself up the stairs and all the way to his room. Ana followed close behind making sure he actually made it to his bed which he just flopped down onto.

Ana shook her head at her son’s ridiculousness. As she was about to shut the door she noticed Caleb roll over and open his sleep filled eyes. “That was a lot of fun,” Caleb whispered.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Ana whispered back, a soft smile on her face.

“Can we do it again?”

“Of course.” Ana thanked the universe that the night went well, this was going to be the start of something good, they were beginning to make real progress. “Get some sleep sweetie.”

“Love you,” Caleb mumbled, his eyes already closed and drifting back to sleep.

“Love you too,” Ana quietly closed the door and couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

Ana rubbed her eyes; she really did have a long day. She was debating whether she wanted to take another shower for the night or just wait till the morning. She sighed and decided to wait for morning and was just about to drag herself to bed when there was a knock at the door. She was tempted to ignore it; it was late and nothing good could come from her opening that door but whoever it was seemed insistent.

The knocking stopped as she entered the living room. She paused in her steps, suddenly on high alert. She tiptoed into the kitchen and silently opened a drawer and grabbed her gun. She inched her way towards the door, making sure to peek through the peep hole first. When she didn’t see anyone, she furrowed her brow. Everything was telling her not to open the door, but she still gripped the doorknob and gave it a twist.

“Oh my god,” Ana gasped when she saw your slumped over form on the ground, already having lost a lot of blood and still bleeding out.

She dropped down next to you; you turned your head, but it didn’t seem like you were actually seeing her. You barely managed to whisper something about silver before you lost consciousness.

She peeled back your jacket to see a nasty bullet wound. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she mumbled to herself.

She shoved the gun in the back of her waistband and instantly wrapped an arm around you. She used all her strength to haul you up, leaning most of your weight onto herself as she dragged you into the apartment. She tried to be as quit as possible, not wanting to wake Caleb up, she wasn’t sure how she’d explain this to him. She managed to get you to her room without bumping into too many things then plopped you down on the bed. She quickly closed the door and flipped you over, getting you into a better position so she could assess the damage.

While she ran to her bathroom she called Grace. She mumbled to herself as the phone only continued to ring. She dug under her sink, pulling out a small med kit, bandages, gloves, and a few more things she might need. The only thing she didn’t have was anything to sanitize the instruments or to numb your pain, but she couldn’t exactly take you anywhere else. When Grace didn’t answer she just called again, she was sure Grace knew you were missing by now, she never ignored one of Ana’s calls before.

“Joey,” Grace’s panicked and slightly out of breath voice answered after a few rings. “I don’t have time to talk something hap-”

“I have them,” Joey cut her off.

Grace let out a sigh of relief and Joey could hear her taking several deep breaths. “Where are you?”

“My apartment,” Joey juggled everything in her hands, keeping the phone between her ear and shoulder so she didn’t miss anything. “They’ve been shot, said something about silver.” There was a loud squeal, like what tires would make if someone made a sharp turn really fast. She didn’t know where Grace had been headed but she had a feeling Grace was on her way to her now.

“Fuck.” Joey dropped the things at your bedside then began placing them on her nightstand and anywhere else she could easily reach but wouldn’t be in the way. She made sure everything was open, and all her instruments were in reach because she wasn’t sure what she would need yet.

“Where?” Grace asked. Joey could hear the strain in her voice as she tried to remained detached from the situation.

Joey didn’t bother with the scissors in her med kit and just grabbed your shirt and began ripping where the bullet hole was. Once your shirt was thoroughly ripped in half Joey pushed the two halves to the side and had a perfect view of the wound. She had her room light on but flipped the light on the nightstand on, trying to get as much of a visual as she could.

“Shoulder,” Joey mumbled, already putting on her gloves. “Fuck,” she whispered as she put her fingers next to the wound then lifted you just slightly to see the back. “It’s not through and through.”

“Fuck,” Grace whispered. “You need to get the bullet out, even if it didn’t pierce their heart being in their body is dangerous.”

Joey nodded; she was quickly falling back into doctor mode. “They’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“It’s fine,” Grace’s voice shook. “You just need to move quickly. Once all the silver is out of their body, patch them up and they will begin to heal.” Joey nodded, despite the fact that Grace couldn’t see her. “But all the silver needs to be removed. Even the tiniest bit is deadly.”

“I don’t have anything for the pain.”

“It wouldn’t work anyway.”

Joey ripped off her bloody gloves and tossed them in the trashcan by her bed. She rushed to her closet and dug around until she pulled out a portable x-ray machine. She didn’t do shady underground surgeries anymore but that didn’t mean she was getting rid of her equipment, it was too expensive, and apparently way to useful.

“I’m on my way,” Grace said. “I’ll clean up any messes left.”

“Thank you,” Joey mumbled, that hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was sure you somehow managed to drive yourself there so your car was a problem, and you definitely had been bleeding out in the hallway. If it wasn’t so late one of her neighbors could have come home and seen what would have looked like a crime scene in the building. “I’ll update you with any changes.” She hung up with Grace and dropped her phone on the nightstand.

She booted up the machine as she made her way back to you. When she got everything ready, she held the machine steady over your shoulder. She furrowed her brow as the x-ray came on the screen. The bullet didn’t seem like it went too far but it looked like there was a small fragment that broke off. She sat the machine on the ground and ran to the bathroom again. She flipped on the water and squirted an excessive amount of soap into her hands before she began scrubbing her hands and arms. She should have done that before, but she was in a rush, though she was sure germs and infection were the least of your worries at the moment.

When her hands were thoroughly clean, she looked around, rolling her eyes when she realized she didn’t have a sanitized towel. She grabbed one of the fresh towels off her shelf and began drying her hands. It was basically undoing all the cleaning she had just done but at least it was something, if she was working in a hospital she would definitely be fired.

She grabbed a new pair of gloves and slipped them on. She took one last look at you before grabbing her first tool and got to work. She also knew she should be wearing a mask but there was no time for that, if Grace was right then Joey could literally just go in and rip the bullet out of you, as long as it was removed, you’d heal, that’s what she said at least.

 You winced when she began digging for the bullet. She couldn’t help but glance at you every time you shifted. You were a werewolf who was just shot, if you woke up there was no telling how you’d react, if you’d even recognize Joey or just lash out. A small part of her was also worried about you making too much noise, at the end of the day saving you was more important, but she really didn’t want Caleb waking up and to come into her room only to see her removing a bullet from a seemingly random stranger.

There were beads of sweat dripping down your forehead, you didn’t even sweat after an intense training session. You let out something in between a groan and a growl, yanking your arm away from Joey in the process.

“Relax,” Joey whispered.  “Relax.” She wasn’t sure if she was talking more to herself or to you, but you did seem to relax, at least slightly.

She let out a shaky breath and got back to work. It took a second, but she finally felt the bullet. As gently as she could she pulled it out and dropped it on a small washcloth. Now it was time for the hard part, getting the fragment out. She glanced at the x-ray again so she could at least be in the right vicinity before she just started digging around in your open wound.

The door creaked open; Joey’s eyes widened as she whipped around but her shoulders quickly relaxed when she saw it was just Grace. “I cleaned the hallway and the blood trail in your apartment,” Grace said. “I’ll need to move their car before everyone starts waking up.”

Joey nodded. “I got the bullet out,” she said. “Just one more piece.”

Graced walked around the other side of the bed. She was careful not to sit on the bed and make sag and risk moving you. She did reach out and feel your forehead, Joey could already tell you had a fever. Graced caressed the side of your cheek and let out a sigh.

“I thought it was just a recon mission,” Joey commented, flicking a glare at Grace. She knew Grace would never have let you go alone if she truly knew the risks were this high, but she was still supposed to be the one watching your back.

“It was,” Grace whispered. “It was a trap set up by hunters.”

“Hunters?” Joey furrowed her brow.

“Werewolf hunters, vampire hunters, anything and everything sometimes,” Grace shook her head. “I knew something was off; I should have waited.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“The attack was planned, well-coordinated, when they wake up, I’ll get numbers.” Joey didn’t even think of that, she hadn’t thought of the shooter at all let alone that there had probably been more than one. While she was out having fun at the carnival you were running for life. “They won’t get away with this.”

Joey let out a sigh of relief as she pulled out the fragment. “Got it.” She saw Grace physically relax as the last piece was dropped next to the bullet.

She ripped off the gloves and tossed them into the garbage can just like she had done with the others. “No stitches needed. Just patch them up, they should be healed by morning.”

Joey nodded, and let out a shaky breath. If you weren’t a werewolf, if you were only human, you would have been dead, you wouldn’t have even made it to her. The one time she didn’t go with you on a job, and you almost died. Both of you had life and death scenarios before but this one felt different.

Joey went back to the bathroom and ran a washcloth under some water. She used it to clean you up and once you were no longer actively bleeding, she grabbed a large bandage from her med kit. She managed to grab your bloody shirt and toss it in the trash as well. Joey wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, you were in her bed, patched up after nearly bleeding out, her garbage can was full of items covered in your blood, and her medical tools she hoped to not need again were all laid out perfectly.

“They can stay here for the night,” Joey found herself saying. “I know you’d probably say they’d be fine, but I’d rather not move them.”

“Okay,” Grace agreed. “I’ll get their car back to the house, call me when they wake, and I’ll be by to pick them up.”

Joey saw Grace out, noticing that her apartment and the hallway were spotless now. “Thank you,” Grace said, spinning around abruptly. “I know you wanted to keep this,” she gestured to herself and Joey. “Separate from your life but you have no idea how much I appreciate you for saving them.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Joey smiled. “They’re a pain in the ass,” she looked back down the hall where she knew you rested behind a door. “But they’ve really grown on me.”

Grace let out a knowing hum and had a look on her face that Joey couldn’t quite decipher. After saying her goodbyes to Grace she popped her head into Caleb’s room, seeing he was still sound asleep. She went back to her room and began cleaning and packing everything up. When she was finally done, she glanced at her phone and saw it was well after three in the morning. Joey ran a hand through her hair, the only way she’d get close to some proper sleep was if she went and crashed on the couch. Joey plopped herself down in the chair in the corner of her room. She relaxed into the cushion, her eyes only looking at you until they slowly fell closed.

Taglist: @thinking1bee @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic @alexkolax @thatshyboy1998 @chxrryxcx

@bella423 @morganismspam23 @pianogirl2121

[shuxiii]

CHINITA — kim minji ; short au

──── ★ non!idol reader x non!idol kim minji

synopsis : It was the first week of high school and you were already tired and exhausted. Having to mandatorily attend the orientation, you desired to ditch it, but you wanted to find an accomplice to ditch with you, so being stupid you decided to Airdrop someone, not until you realized who decidedly accepted your request, the class president, kim minji.

warning ; strong words, drama, suggestive jokes

tags ; non-idol x non!idol, wlw, floff, smau

CHAPTERS

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02.

03.

04.

05.

06.

07.

08.

09.

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

End.

Bonus chapter (1)

Bonus chapter (2)

Bonus chapter (3)

Bonus chapter (4)

Bonus chapter (5)

Bonus chapter (6)

Bonus chapter (7)

Bonus chapter (8)

bonus chapter (9)

We fell in love in october — c!yn : c!minji

c!minji & c!yn : london girl