#What is the name of our new history teacher?

[shrenvents]

Hi love, you have an amazing imagination, and I love your writing style. I was wondering if you could maybe do some more with Wolverine. I'm in that x men stage again. And I loved you last piece of work on him. Maybe you could do a continuation of it or think of something completely new. Anyway, dont feel pressured ❤️

A/N: ur actually so sweet, thank uu! I'm also rlly shocked but appreciative of all the love Professor Howlett received, so u don't even have to ask twice for more, it's my pleasure ;)

Divided Attention

Professor Howlett II

Part one

Warnings: minors dni, Smut, fluff, language, jealousy, (legal) age gap, oral, f!receiving, semi-public

Pairing: Logan x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Things were going well with you and Logan, until he suddenly put distance between you both, acting strangely. On top of that, you catch him threatening one of your fellow classmates and have no choice, but to face your issues, head-on.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Any small moment together, Logan and I chased. The little highs we could derive from our busy schedules, we eagerly pursued.

From a quickie in the janitor's closet, a make-out session after class, or a passionate sleepover, Logan consumed every inch of my life. He was consuming every bit of my mind, and an ominous trepidation was closing in, alongside him.

The more I saw him, the greedier I became. Desperate to see and feel more of him, beyond the surface. So, it was no surprise, that I soon desired something more from our casual relationship.

With graduation just around the corner, I was almost home free. Free to outwardly tell him what I yearned for.

But the concern that racked my brain constantly, that trepidation, was whether he wanted the same.

As I was getting to know him, it was clear there were parts of him I had yet to discover, parts he seemed reluctant to reveal. Sometimes he would be open, close by my side. The next second, he would shut down.

What made matters worse, was that recently, he hadn't sought me out. It's felt as though he's no longer hungry for those small moments, that I still very much craved.

Now I'm on edge and have no clue what he's thinking, or what he thinks of us.

...

The day started like any other. I went to each class, exhausted and disinterested, till that afternoon. Something caught my eye, and the eyes of the school's populace: Logan pinning a male student to the wall of the vast, oak wood hallway.

They speak in hushed tones to one another, and the boy looks beyond frightened, while Logan looks ready to tear his head from his scrawny neck.

It takes only a moment for my alarm to pass, and for me to note, that this boy sits next to me in history.

A sharp intake of breath hitches in my throat.

His name's Mikey, and he has been a nuisance to Logan from the get-go, long before our intimate affair. Labelled as the class clown, Mikey uses his obnoxious voice and meddling powers to disturb Logan's lessons, daily. To top it off, Mikey consistently bothers me, mimicking what I say, and staring at my profile, for far too long.

Just when Logan dips his head closer to Mikey, perhaps to rip out his jugular, like the predator he is, Scott interjects.

"Logan! Drop him!" When Scott's unnerved voice orders Logan, my eyes snap to Mikey's feet, which are spraddled in the air, dangling for dear life.

I guess a few days apart made me forget just how strong he is. Maybe he's just too gentle with me to remember.

As his feet slowly lower to the floor, gasps and murmurs flood the halls, and my head frantically shoots around, surprised by the crowd of avid onlookers.

Eyes anxiously surveying the students, I hone in on Logan again, flinching when seeing his pupils, already fixed on me.

He releases Mikey immediately, retracting from him while Scott grabs his bicep, heatedly whispering into his ear, and Mikey scrambles away.

Logan's eyes shy from mine and my mouth gaps. He almost looks, embarrassed. 'Huh?'

Soon, other teachers arrive to intervene, shooing students from the crime scene.

So, aimlessly wandering outside, into the courtyard, hoping to clear my head, I think back on our classes together. Every time Mikey acted up, Logan seemingly couldn’t care less, looking more spent overall, than unsettled by his brazen jokes.

It was kind of funny, seeing Mikey quaking in his boots at the older male. It was only yesterday, that he spoke to me with such forwardness, and to Logan with such rudeness, carrying that typical smug expression -it was nice to see it wiped clean.

I laugh to myself, disbelieving what just transpired. I can only imagine what errand Professor Xavier will make Logan do to atone, or what bonding exercise he and Mikey may perform...

While I trudge down the stone steps, onto the vivid green field, I spot the devil himself, Mikey. He sits under the shade of a grand willow tree, dome hung between his bent knees.

Feeling rather empathetic, I stroll towards him, stopping in front of his feet. Evidently noticing my bright attire, his head pops up, and his dewy eyes widen.

"You alright?" I ask warily and his bottom lip trembles. He sniffs once, toughening up before responding, "I'm good." I nod, then look at the endless landscape to my right. "Whatever you did must've really been something, Mr. Howlett's rarely that peeved."

"You're telling me," he huffs sarcastically, sounding pained. Shifting, I sit beside him, maintaining some space. "If you don't mind me asking, what was that about?" Mikey pauses, thinking hard.

"No clue," he mumbles pitifully. I gawk at him, brows creasing. He peers at me and copies my appearance. "I'm not lying," he exclaims defensively. "There's no way," I retort, scoffing.

"If you don't fucking believe me, why ask," Mikey spits, mumbling "bitch" as he shoots to stomp off.

Suspiring, my crown gingerly falls onto the tree's trunk. Finding comfort in its rugged bark, I calmly savour the crisp air.

I close my eyes, for what feels like a few minutes until a fierce call of my name grips my consciousness. Eyelids cracking open, my vision focuses on Mr. Howlett himself, standing in all his glory, glaring down at me with a brooding look.

"If it isn't the man of the hour," I giggle humourlessly, straightening my spine, but choosing not to stand and seem intimidated, like he evidently wishes me to be.

"You have a nice chat?" Logan questions with an irked tone, obviously remarking on my 'chat' with Mikey. 'Was he watching us?'

I tilt my head defiantly. "I'm not picking sides," I raise both hands in surrender, smiling from ear to ear. His eye faintly twitches, and I nearly gulp. He grumbles incomprehensible nonsense, then chooses to stay relatively quiet, which is unlike him.

"Do you have something to say? Or are you just gonna stand there?" I inquire venomously.

Clearly dispising my attitude, he concentrates on my face, scowling. His features have rage written all over them, but I refuse to bow out of this impending feud.

He grumbles under his breath again, and I break.

"Speak up!" I shout, swiftly bringing my gaze to our surroundings, making sure we're alone -which is something Logan clearly isn't worried about.

"What the fuck do you two have to talk about?" He just about growls and I tense, stunned. My face contorts with perplexity. "Me and Mikey?" I question, and his eyebrows nearly conjoin in response. "Not much, just discussing you're outburst," heaving, I continue, "though he didn't have much to say on the topic," sighing, "you?"

His nostrils flare slightly, and I do my best to appear composed. "What else have you talked about?" He grunts, and I roll my eyes, rising to my feet, bored with our conversation. "What's it to you?" I ask rhetorically, internally referring to the distance he'd been building between us.

Moving elsewhere, I roughly brush past his shoulder. He doesn't immediately reply, but trails after me as I march further into the courtyard.

"The fuck you on about?" Logan vulgarly rumbles, and I forget to speak.

My pace then staggers when he delicately wraps his digits over my forearm, tugging me, almost cautiously, backward.

Square to him, I discern his thumb tracing my skin lightly, before finally looking at him. He examines his finger as it sweeps across my flesh. "Logan?" I carefully utter, and his eyes stay glued to where our bodies meet.

"Why do you talk to him," he pauses, snarling with emphasis on 'talk,' yet again. Then he murmurs, "-When you have me?" He’s so quiet, that the words are barely audible. My features instantly soften. “Are you,” I hesitate, “Jealous?”

When he doesn’t answer, I gasp so loud, that my palm slaps over my mouth. He looks around, avoiding eye contact as I grasp the situation. “Did you threaten Mikey 'cause he yaps to me in class?”

Logan scorned the very idea of jealousy, cruising his head in a circle, to showcase his exasperation. I smirk uncontrollably and he snits. "Don't flatter yourself Princess," he remarks blatantly. My smirk only expands. "I can't believe you," I laugh hysterically and he motions like he's going to walk away, but he stays put, and I know I've won.

"Don't pull that face," he complains, gesturing to my proud look.

"What face?" I ask, playing naive, faintly swinging my body side to side. "Just stop talking to him, he's a bad influence," he grunts, peering off to the horizon. I giggle, "Or what? Do you intend to beat every boy who speaks to me?" I counter, and he struggles to fight a smile.

"What if I do," Logan more or less declares.

Shaking my head, "You've got some nerve," I huff, "seeing as you've been avoiding me lately."

"I haven't been avoiding you-"

I interrupt, "Oh yes, you have," playfully punching his gut with a grin, which drops the second my knuckles practically grow a heartbeat. "Ow," I breathe and at last, he laughs.

When Logan's laugh dims, he looks almost sullen. "Didn't think you'd notice," he mumbles and I quirk my chin in confusion. "You seem preoccupied." Gapping at him once more, he rolls his eyes, showing his teeth. "Don't gimme that damn look girl," he heaves, "you're young and, and-"

"And what?"

"Attractive," he sighs heavily, "you don't need an old man weighing you down."

I still, catching his genuine displeasure and defeat. It's like he's disappointed I may seek romance from someone else, but accepts it regardless, for my sake, my happiness.

My heart thumps irregularly and I feel like jumping his bones. I release a lengthy sigh, with a smile twinkling. His brow rises questioningly, seeming anxious about a reaction to his masked insecurity.

"What?" He bites.

"I'm relieved," his confusion visibly progresses. "I thought you were tired of me." As his mouth opens, to probably insult my intelligence, I cut in. "I wanna go steady with you, if that wasn't obvious already." My smile grows sheepish, then taunting, "I like you Lo, and clearly you must love me."

Like he's been holding his breath, a loud puff of air escapes his chapped lips, and I shamelessly watch as he wets them.

"You've gotta be the strangest girl I've ever met," he utters with a smirk forming, and I return one, interpreting his words as a declaration of love.

"Woman," I correct, then babble jokingly, "refined Lady." He confidently strides closer. "Mistress-"

The air leaves my lungs as his solid arms devour me, squeezing tightly.

"You best realize what you're committing to," Logan comments, lightly lifting strands of my hair with his fingertips, to kiss my neck. "That means, no more talking to boys," he grunts, humour coaxing his tone. "Especially ones so far out of your league," he pulls his head back, to peer at my expectant face, "It's not even funny," he finishes with a grin.

I laugh, unable to contain my joy, quickly hiding my wild smile in his chest. A pleased hum rumbles in tune with his heavy breathing, and I listen to his heartbeat's fairly, rapid pace.

For a while, we stay present in each other's arms, with fulfillment and ease consuming our beings, synchronously. Logan's fingers drift across my lower back, leisurely tracing my curves.

"I like you, so much," I whisper airly because the words couldn't be repressed, and had escaped. His hands gradually slow to a halt, till he abruptly draws back. He looks at me, with such intense seriousness, that I shudder.

Then, he pulls away entirely, taking my hand in his larger one, to drag me deeper into the field -into the overgrown areas, looted with massive trees and bushes.

"Logan?" My whisper transforms into a squeak when I'm hauled behind various, untrimmed hedges. His palms grope my hips, stilling me before he drops to his knees. I ogle his smug face as it bores into me, before he wrestles with my pink, low-waisted, jean shorts, impatiently dragging them down my plump thighs. He mumbles, "Ridiculous" when his eyeline levels with my purple, close-to-sheer underwear.

Like my shorts, he yanks them down to my ankles, then swiftly encloses his mouth over my cunt, swiping the folds with his tongue. I throw the back of my hand over my incoming yelp, biting down to muffle it.

"Is this you tryna to deflect admitting you really like me?" I joke meekly as my mouth parts from my hand, but I quickly chomp down again, when he licks me, with a long flick of his tongue. I gasp and whimper, using my spare hand to claw at his scalp for leverage, as he hungrily laps my pussy, sucking on its nub.

A tremor racks my insides, eliciting spasms while he builds up a powerful, but excruciatingly relaxed pace. His bulky digits move to relentlessly rub my clit, applying a rhythmic pressure that makes me sob.

Logan shushes me, mouth still buried in my folds. The buzz of his voice sends shivers through my core, and the strength of his action grows, acknowledging my imminent finish.

“Eyes on me,” Logan basically growls, before diving back into my cunt.

I muffle a cry of his name with a fist now, biting my knuckles. Then, I look from the heavens, back down to the one hand I still have, clenching his silky locks.

My knees begin to buckle and his sizeable palms relocate to support my hips, with his fingertips bordering my ass, kneading it. "I'm close," I gasp, barely audible through my hand. He hums again, and when it elicits another shiver, and shake of my frame, I tumble over his back, wrecked by my climax.

Now hunched over him, with my hands splayed down his torso, I tremble furiously, coming down from my high. I can't help but whine when Logan continuously licks me. He tastes every inch of me like I'm the meal of a lifetime, like I'm oxygen itself.

"Enough," I choke, as my arousal becomes too much. His response is simply plunging further into me, to lick all the way from my ass, to clit.

Steam floods my stomach, lighting me on fire. A raging flame consumes my very being, and I relish in how dirty and dangerous this encounter is -in public on his knees for me, Logan made it known that I'm his, and he let me know, that he couldn't care less who heard us, because I was his.

"You're disturbed," I breathe, and his chuckle resonates louder when he separates from my damp skin. "You love it," he states with a smirk and an arch of his brow. He then runs his tongue over his soaked lips, and I bite back a groan, sighing, "I do."

Lifting, moving my palms to his shoulders, I capture his top lip, sucking on it as a thank you. I grin, and as if he can hear my jest coming from a mile away, he scoffs and turns to hide his smirk.

"And you must lovveee me," I repeat my earlier comment with even more enthusiasm, and he shakes his head.

He rises and I do the same. Logan then goes in for a kiss to shut me up, but just as he does, I catch his mumble of "I do."

I gasp into his mouth, eyelids stretching.

My lids briskly flutter shut when he deepens the kiss, dipping my figure, rather romantically, and we both smile.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It has been too long since you heard from Bradley. Perhaps something went wrong. Or maybe he was avoiding you. Just when you start trying to accept that the last few months were too good to be true, things start to turn around again.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being sweet

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Days went by. With only two weeks left of Bradley's deployment, you weren't really expecting to receive air mail at school with your name on it, but you certainly did miss it anyway. Your students asked about him every morning, wondering if he'd sent a new email, hoping for another video with Marty. But you got nothing in either of your email inboxes.

He was on your mind almost constantly. What happened on his mission? Did the Navy decide it was okay to cut off communication right when you were completely attached to hearing from him? Did this really mean you had to wait until the aircraft carrier arrived back in San Diego? 

It was right before your students were due to arrive in your classroom that you had perhaps the most distressing thoughts of all. What if something went terribly wrong and he didn't survive? Or what if this was simply his way of ghosting you before he had to see you in person?

Jayden raced in ahead of the rest of your class, calling your name along the way. "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw write back yet?"

You pointed him toward his desk as you shook your head. "I already explained that he may not have time to respond before his deployment ends."

Jayden just bounced in place in front of you. "Then that means he can visit us when he gets back!"

Now a small group of your kids surrounded you, and you wished more than anything that you could tell them that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, their beloved pen pal, would definitely be visiting your classroom in a few short days. Instead you told them, "Please, take your seats so we can start our Natural History lesson."

This turned out to be your new normal. Every time you got an email notification, you jumped to unlock your phone, but it was never a message from Bradley. When you saw a box tucked in your mail cubby in the school office, you ran for it, only to find the science supplies you ordered weeks ago had arrived. You even forced yourself to go back and read some of the old emails from him, just to make sure it all really happened, but his words left you aching for more.

...I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies...

...You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?...

...Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head...

...And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when...

After nearly two weeks had gone by, you tried to figure out if the USS Theodore Roosevelt was back in port, but short of driving to North Island to see for yourself, you couldn't seem to find a solid answer online. And if you did drive there and found it at the dock, what were you supposed to do? Contact the US Navy? If they told you that nothing happened to Lieutenant Bradshaw and that he was perfectly fine, you'd be mortified. If they told you something in fact did happen to him in the last two weeks, you'd be devastated. That's assuming you could even get them to give you any information at all which was doubtful.

On Friday, you were on the verge of tears as you got ready for work. "You're being ridiculous," you whispered, and that fact made you want to cry even more. You tried to take the time to make yourself look presentable, thinking that may be the key to having a good day. Your outfit was cute. Your makeup looked nice. But you weren't smiling, and you didn't feel like doing so at all. 

You grabbed your bag, hoping the short ride with your favorite playlist would be enough to get your spirits up, but all you could think about was how you probably weren't cut out for life with a guy in the military anyway. Waiting around like this to see what was going on was making your stomach upset, and you weren't getting enough sleep. When you closed your eyes, you just pictured a very kissable face with a scarred cheek and big brown eyes.

"You need to focus," you scolded as you parked your car and headed into the school with your ID badge. You had eighteen kids who required your attention, and you'd once again give it to them, because you were fantastic at your job. 

This morning, Violet was the first one to mention Bradley in passing, and you had to shake your head. "Please find your seats. If I hear from Lieutenant Bradshaw, I promise I will let you know. I'm not hiding any letters or emails from you all, okay?" You tried to smile as you said, "I'd like to hear from him every bit as badly as you would. I can guarantee that."

You struggled through your morning lessons, often reminding yourself that you needed to focus on your students. Then you sat quietly at your desk with the classroom lights off during lunch, scrolling back through the dozens of emails you'd exchanged with Bradley on your phone. You pulled up the picture of the sun setting behind him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even though you tried, you couldn't find anything other than the most sincere expression on his handsome face.

Maybe he would text you this weekend, letting you know he was back and your date was on. You had to believe he would still contact you. When the bell rang, you counted to ten, and then your students came flooding back through your classroom door. They wanted to tell you all about how Jasper from Mrs. Wynn's class got in trouble during lunch, and you humored them before saying, "I'm sure none of you would misbehave like that in the cafeteria."

"No way!" Henry promised.

"That's what I like to hear," you told him with a forced smile. "Once you're all in your seats, we'll start our math lesson. Maybe I'll put a few aviation problems on the board at the end if you show me how well you can focus for the next twenty minutes."

You had just started copying the first fraction that you wanted to discuss from your notebook onto the board when there was a sharp knock on your classroom door. You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on the white board, knowing that another disruption would completely derail your kids after all the lunchtime nonsense. When you turned to face the door, they were already starting to chatter with each other. 

"Come in!" you called out, and every head in your room whipped around to see who was there and what they wanted. 

When the door swung open, the room went silent. The first thing you thought about was how peculiar it was to see someone in a khaki military uniform standing there. Then your eyes slid up that tall, muscular frame as your lips parted in surprise. As soon as you met his gaze, he smiled and said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

You couldn't speak. As he took a full step into your classroom and pulled the door closed, you finally noticed he was holding some pretty flowers. Then he was heading your way, his combat boots squeaking ever so slightly against the tile floor with each long stride. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't hesitating at all as he made his way directly to you while your students started talking again.

"It's Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

"I knew he'd come visit us ever since I asked him to!"

"Does this mean his deployment is over?"

"Why does he have flowers?"

He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of you, and the butterflies in your belly were fluttering so much, you were convinced you could float off of the floor. You weren't sure what else to say, so you simply whispered, "Bradley."

His smile grew as he said, "I love the way that sounds when you say it." You could only squeak in response, and his warm gaze flicked from your eyes down to your lips. At this rate you'd be a puddle at his feet in the next ten seconds. He swallowed hard, cheeks flushed as he leaned in closer, taking another small step forward until his boot gently bumped your shoe. His voice took on a raspier edge as said, "You told me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

He didn't stop slowly closing the distance, and when you reached out and let your fingers tangle with his, you whispered, "Please." Then you closed your eyes as his lips brushed feather light against yours. You gasped. He was here. Nothing had ever felt as good as this in your life. You opened your eyes to find him grinning right in front of you, and you chased him for another one of his dreamy kisses.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw kissed her!"

"I think they're in love!"

"They are definitely going to be girlfriend and boyfriend!"

Bradley wrapped his fingers around yours a little tighter as you and he laughed, and he ducked his head before looking up at your class. His cheeks were the most alluring shade of pink as he told them, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I decided to surprise you and your teacher."

"We don't mind!" shouter Oliver as he was practically sitting on his desk now in excitement. All of the kids were bouncing with anticipation, and you couldn't stop smiling as Violet clapped her hands together.

"Great, because I brought my responses to your last batch of letters, too. I can't thank you enough for being my pen pals for the last few months. You made my time away from home a lot more fun." He turned to look at you before softly adding, "And you made coming back home feel really good."

You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run your fingers along his scars and press your lips to his skin in their wake. You wanted to bury your nose against his neck and inhale the smell of his skin and his uniform collar. You wanted to feel his mustache on your lips. Instead, because every eye in the room was on the two of you, you told him, "I'm really happy you're here." You tugged on his hand so he was standing front and center, and you turned to your kids and asked, "What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?"

"Thank you!" they all shouted in unison.

"That's right," you told them. Then you looked up at Bradley, and he handed you the flowers with a crooked little grin, and that's when you noticed he had a small notebook in his hand as well. 

"Can I call each kid up to get their letter?" he asked, as if you would deny him anything at the moment. "Then I can put faces to all of the names."

You were still definitely at risk of melting. "You wrote each of them a personal letter again?" you asked him, holding your flowers to your chest and trying not to swoon.

"Yeah," he replied, opening his notebook to show you. He stood there, looking devastatingly sexy, tearing out a page for every kid. He called each of them up and talked to them for a minute. He remembered the name of Jayden's dog. He remembered that Violet loved neon-colored everything. He remembered that Henry said his grandfather was in the Navy. He remembered so much, and he was so willing to indulge all of their questions.

You just stood there with your flowers and watched this endearing man captivate all nineteen of you with his words. He let Oliver try on one of his insignia pins. He drew a diagram of an aircraft carrier on your white board. He met your gaze more often than not. He smiled at you every time he did. He told your students that the reason they were so smart was because you were such a good teacher. The butterflies were here to stay now.

When you looked around, you noticed that your kids were cherishing their personal notes just like you were your flowers. You didn't want this afternoon to end, and yet, as soon as the first bell rang at three o'clock, you jumped to attention. The sooner your students cleared out of the room for the weekend, the sooner you could hopefully have a few minutes alone with Bradley before he wanted to go home and rest.

"We need to pack up," you announced, finally setting the bouquet down on your desk while Bradly affixed his pin back on his uniform shirt.

"Do we have to?" whined Jayden. "Lieutenant Bradshaw like just got here!"

He had in fact been in your classroom for over two hours, but you couldn't blame them for wanting more. Bradley cleared his throat and looked at you as he said, "I could come back again?" with that sincere gaze you were already weak for. "Spend a few more hours answering questions? Maybe bring some engine parts with me?"

You bit your lip before you could whimper out loud, and he started to head in your direction. "We would love that," you told him.

"Yeah?" he asked you as your kids erupted into a rowdy mob, grabbing all of their belongings as the final bell rang.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, waving lazily to your students as they shouted their goodbyes to both you and Bradley. His steps had him reaching you right as the last few kids left your room, and you whispered, "You'll come back?"

He reached for your hand as he said, "I'll do anything you want, Gorgeous." He must have been able to read the needy look on your face, because when you tugged on his hand, he came all the way to you. His other hand ended up at your waist as his lips found yours, and this time, the feather light kisses deepened as you parted your lips. Bradley groaned softly, kissing you just right, and then he whispered, "I've been dying for this."

Your arms went around his neck, kissing him a little frantically, melting at his touch and the feel of his soft, wavy hair between your fingers. "Me too," you told him before pulling his bottom lip gently between yours. He backed you up until you bumped into your desk, and all you could think about was how good his weight would feel on top of you.

Your skin felt too hot when he finally broke the kiss, panting softly as you ran your thumb along his scars. "I didn't like not hearing from you the past two weeks," you told him, and his brown eyes softened even as his hold on you tightened a little bit. "It was... kind of scary."

"I didn't like it either," he told you. "And I was going to text you immediately when we docked this morning, but then I decided to just come here instead." He grinned as your fingers crept back up into his hair. "If they didn't let me sign in with my military ID in the front office, I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to see you."

You kissed his chin and said, "Usually I hate surprises. But this one was perfect."

"Okay, see, that's good information to know," he rasped. "I only got a ride home long enough to throw my duffle in the front door and hop in my Bronco. I stopped for the flowers, and then I just wanted to get here with my notebook."

You tipped your head back and whispered, "How am I supposed to deal with how sweet you are?"

"Oh! That reminds me," he muttered, rubbing his hand along your back before releasing you and strolling over to where he left his notebook on Oliver's desk. The way your body wanted you to follow him was surprising, but it gave you a chance to look at him again from head to toe as you stood next to your desk. There was nothing out of place on this man, and you pressed your lips together as his bicep flexed against his shirt sleeve. He tore another sheet of paper from his notebook and said, "I have one more note to deliver."

He walked back over to you, and when he held it up with a hopeful look, you took it from him and read.

Hey, Gorgeous. I couldn't wait one more minute to see you. And now that I'm here, I don't want today to end. Is there any way I can convince you to let me take you out for our first official date tonight instead of tomorrow? Bradley

When you looked up from the page, his eyebrows were raised, and that crooked little grin was hovering close to the surface. "I know I said to plan for tomorrow, but I can't fucking wait that long."

You bit down on your lip, shocked by how much better today turned out to be than you could have ever imagined earlier this morning. "Yeah. You've convinced me, Bradley. Tonight sounds perfect."

With that, you were treated to a little smirk beneath his mustache. He carefully took the sheet of notebook paper from your hands, set it down next to the flowers on your desk and proceeded to kiss you senseless.

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

He's going to make me hyperventilate. Those kids were SO excited to have him in their classroom, but they were nowhere near as excited as Gorgeous! He's home! And he wants to have his beach picnic and takeout and makeout sesh immediately. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

[bunnyhugs77]

Daddy Daycare

Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Part: 1, 2, 3

Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.

Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.

"Ready for a new year, Y/n?"

Your nose was filled with the smell of fresh paint and scotch tape as you and your co-worker Vanessa who goes by Ms. Powell when the class is swarming with bright and bustling four-year-old's.

The loud sound of ripping tape rang through your ears as you pasted the pieces onto the back of the welcome sign. The sun was hardly out as the two of you arranged to arrive at your new classroom bright and early at 5 am to finish off the decorations for the classroom.

"I can't believe the summer is finished already." You say with a rejuvenated smile. "I can only imagine how fast the time flies when you're travelling Europe." She reminds you of your two-week-long travels across the south of Europe.

Standing to your feet for what feels like the first time ever after hours of crouching and kneeling to finish up the decorations. "I think that's the last of it," with a puff of air and a pair of hands on your hips you smile to yourself, satisfied with the lively environment the two of you managed to create.

"I think we're ready," Vanessa says, cracking open a fresh whiteboard marker to sign your names on the board in a warm welcome.

With a quick glance down to your watch. "-and just in time too,".

The sun had peaked over the horizon no more than thirty minutes ago which means that theatrical parents would be rolling in any minute now to send off their kids to what could possibly be their first day away from them.

You both took the last few minutes to run down the hall and get changed, making sure you both looked ready to take on 22 pre-schoolers. Although you weren't the head teacher, you still had just as much of a responsibility as Vanessa did and it wasn't always easy.

The scar on your upper arm which was victim to the shark-like teeth of an ambitious little boy last year can attest to that.

You smiled warmly to some parents who passed by you in the halls on your way back to the classroom. Some familiar faces, some new, although based on the direction they were walking, they weren't any kids in your class.

By the time you returned to yours, there were already two parents bidding their farewells with their energetic offspring who were already reaching for the crayons you'd left on each table.

You slowly made your way to the front with Vanessa as the two of you prepared to introduce yourselves to the large crowd of parents and students that situated themselves around the room.

The energy was high, you could practically feel some of the anxiety and excitement from the crowd.

"Hello everyone!" Vanessa starts, clasping her hands together, "On behalf of Sunshine Circles Daycare, we want to give you all a warm welcome to our class."

Vanessa introduces herself professionally before briefly gesturing to you, cueing your smile, "And this is Ms. Hill, she will be assisting both me and the students around the classroom. I wouldn't be able to do this without her." You nod along, preparing yourself to speak.

"Yes, so if ever Ms. Powell is unavailable, don't be afraid to share any questions or concerns with me that you have about the class or your child." Out of sight, somewhere in the crowd a pair shuffled through the large group of bodies and made their way to the front.

"We're looking forward to-" You paused, your eyes meeting the eyes of the man who just emerged from the crowd while holding the small hand of who you presumed was his son, he looked a little younger than the rest of the parents, and significantly buffer if you must add.

You could see peaks of his soft blue hair sticking out from underneath his black beanie that matched his black wife beater. He flashes you a coy smile, so innocent and handsome to the point he'd made you forget your train of thought and completely forget what you were in the middle of saying.

"I think what Ms. Hill was about to say was that we're looking forward to having a wonderful year full of learning and fun." Vanessa fills in your blanks and all you could utter was a small 'mhm!'.

With that said, the parents that'd been here since the very beginning had naturally begun to take their leave, not without a tight hug and reassuring kiss to their child's forehead of course.

"Sorry we're late," You turn around, and it's as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. The man was even more stunning up close, but that was something you vowed you would never acknowledge again. He's the guardian of one of your students, it would be unprofessional.

"That's no problem at all, life happens," you chirp, almost too happily. "Isn't that the truth, Ryan here couldn't seem to find his favourite shoes and refused to wear anything but." The man smiles, and wow, even his smile was attractive.

If you thought his smile was contagious you just couldn't stop yourself from beaming when you finally looked down to meet Ryan's big grin. "Look! It's lightning McQueen!" He shouts, stomping his feet at one hundred miles a minute, the base of his sneakers flashing red and white as he does so.

"Your shoes are awesome! I wish mine could do that." You return his big energy with a bit of a softer tone, oblivious to the way the man is watching you intently. All of a sudden Ryan was hopping up and down, tugging on his dad's arm, "Can I colour?!" He points to the table full of markers and blank papers.

"Well, you're going to have to ask Ms. Hill first, okay buddy?" The man looks at you with a damn near glow in his gaze, "Of course it's okay. Use as many colours as you'd like." Before you could even finish your sentence, Ryan was long gone, only the flashes of his sneakers were proof that he hadn't teleported.

"Have you been teaching here long?" He asks, prompting you to shake your head. "This is actually only my second year teaching here," subconsciously his plump bottom lip found itself victim between his teeth. "Ah," he sighs.

There was a brief pause in your conversation. As if it were planned, both of your gazes dropped down to analyze the other's left hand, looking for any signs of that metallic band wrapped around the ring finger.

Seems like you were both in the clear, for now.

Your conversation resumed as if the ring inspection never even happened and soon the both of you were finally making introductions. "The kids call me Ms. Hill, but you're more than welcome to call me Y/n." That lip ring was taunting you as it sat so comfortably in his plush pink lips that stretched into a soft smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Jungkook."

~~

"Goddamn it." You mutter. Giving the projector another hard hit in the back as it flickered and failed to turn on. It had been giving you a hard time all week.

You're at least grateful it let you have a successful first week of the year but now it was acting up more than ever. Kids would be coming any minute and Vanessa was stuck in traffic, so you would somehow need to find a way to fix this and supervise all before--

"Good morning Ms. Hill," Never mind you think, giving the projector one last frustrated tap. Disregarding it as if it never happened and focusing on Jungkook and Ryan who just walked in.

Ryan shouts a cheery good morning of his own before getting his hands on the toy car he's grown fond of over the last week. Unspokenly declaring it as his own.

"I couldn't help but notice.. and hear your frustrations with the projector from down the hall. Something wrong?" He takes two confident strides towards the equipment with you trailing along.

"Yeah, it's been breaking down all week. I was hoping to show the kids a video today, but it seems I may have to improvise." He didn't respond with anything more than his warm smile as he laid his hand down on the top of the projector giving it a once over.

His brows furrow ever so slightly before he lets out a little laugh.

"What's so funny?" your arms cross instinctively, eyes never leaving his lean frame as he practically struts over to the outlet and properly plugs in the cord, the graphics now displaying perfectly on the screen.

"In all of my years working in tech, that may have been one of the hardest cases to solve." He teases and you subconsciously let your tongue poke the inside of your cheek, failing to hide an embarrassed smile.

You waved to the parents who were dropping off more students, "If you ever have any more technical issues, I'd be happy to help." He reaches into his back pocket and places one of his business cards in your hand. "I will, thank you."

You shook off whatever the hell it was that was bubbling in your stomach, and reminded yourself things were strictly professional and he was only offering to be nice, nothing more.

-

The weeks were flying by without you realizing it until Thanksgiving was mere weeks around the corner. Which meant today was show and tell. Vanessa instructed everyone to sit on the carpet in a big circle.

Yesterday you reminded parents to help their child to find something they loved at home so they could bring it to show and tell.

"Thanksgiving is a special day of the year where we-" Vanessa was in the middle of explaining from where she sat crisscrossed on the carpet in the circle while you picked up the abandoned crayons and papers on the desk.

"Eat lots of food," cute giggles filled the room from Carly's outburst. "Yes, that's right. We eat lots of food on Thanksgiving and it's a day to be grateful for everything you have. Can anyone tell me what it means to be grateful for something?"

The class had never been so quiet, full of scrunched brows and blank stares. "It means to be happy with what you have. How many of you have toys at home?" Almost all hands shot up at once, you were afraid someone would lose an eye.

"Do you like your toys,? The room filled with lots of loud and affirmative responses, "To be grateful for something like your toys means showing them extra love and saying thank you to your parents who bought them."

By the time you'd finished cleaning up and joined the circle, they were about halfway through the circle for show and tell, everyone getting a chance to say what they brought and why they loved it along with passing it around the circle.

"Thank you for sharing Ms. Cuddlepuff with us Riley."

"Ryan, what did you bring?" He practically lights up when his turn finally comes around. He introduced his favourite blue race car, and described it as fast and shiny, even holding it while he spun the wheels for us.

"What an amazing car! Do you want to pass it around?" He shakes his head. You tried to be gentle understanding why he wouldn't want to share, "Don't you want your friends to be able to see your amazing car too?" He shakes his head, hugging his toy close to his chest and scooting further back, removing himself from the circle.

"Ryan-" Vanessa tries to reason but he starts to yell, "I don't want to share! It's mine!" He stomps his feet, the lights on his shoes flashing red, a similar shade to his furious expression.

You looked over to Vanessa, the both of you deciding you weren't going to fight him on it.

"Okay Jamie, what did you bring today?" He shakes his head as if he is mimicking Ryan's behaviour. "I don't want to share either."

Oh boy.

Finding a way to get the rest of the class to share their objects had taken all of your willpower and the rest of the day, right until parents were walking in, ready for pick up.

"Hey," You smile as you watched Jungkook walk in wearing his typical white collared shirt with the top button open giving you only the slightest peak of the silver chain beneath that sat atop his honey-kissed skin--

"Daddy!" Ryan squeaked, running off to grab his coat and shoes.

"How was he today?" You tried to hide your regret but he noticed it, no matter how fast it flashed across your features. "What is it?" His voice was soft, welcoming any feedback.

"He had a bit of a hard time sharing during the show and tell. He didn't want his classmates to touch his car, which I understand but we try to encourage the students to be kind and share." Your heart was pounding, you always hated these kinds of talks.

You felt that it was just criticism, but in reality, it was just one rainy in comparison to one hundred sunny ones. Jungkook exhaled heavily. "I don't know what is with him and this car, he won't even let me hold it."

As if on cue, Ryan comes running back to his father with his jacket on and car in hand. His dad ruffles his hair playfully while the boy wraps his arms around his father's legs.

"I'm sorry about what happened. We're working on it, I promise." Nothing but sincerity rolled off his tongue as he looked down at the child who clung to his jeans.

"Come on buddy, let's go. Say bye to Ms. Hill."

"Bye, Ms. Hill!" He waves back to you before walking out the door.

As the clock rolled closer the 4:30, all the kids had gone home and it was just you and Vanessa going through the schedules for tomorrow.

"So how long are you gonna keep flirting with Ryan's dad." maybe you'd put on too much lotion earlier, it was pure coincidence that your pencil had immediately fallen from your hand.

She laughs as if something were hilarious. "I am so not flirting with him." She rolls her eyes, "Oh please, I have never seen you spend nearly half as much time talking to the other parents as much as you talk to him. Not to mention the hearts in your eyes."

You let your head fall into your hands out of sheer embarrassment, "I don't know what to do!" You almost shriek into your sweaty palms.

"A word of advice, save yourself the trouble and don't get involved. I don't believe that he's married but that doesn't mean there are no strings attached either. Believe me, I've been there, things can get messy and it's just not something you want."

Vanessa was bout seven years older than you, somewhere around 32 so you always took her advice to heart. "But didn't you end up marrying them, and then have two children?" She goes silent. "Yeah, well life is unpredictable."

You groan, letting your body fall back onto the carpet.

-

"Attention passengers, This is your driver speaking. I regret to inform you that we are currently experiencing a mechanical issue, and the bus has broken down. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Your head rolled back and hit the wall behind you. This is fantastic. It was supposed to be a great day today. It's Friday today. Specifically the last day before your three-day long weekend before the long weekend with Thanksgiving falling on the Monday.

You checked the time, 7:45. You should be there in 10 minutes, and honestly, you considered getting off the bus and walking but there were about 4 inches of freshly fallen snow from last night covering the city and it was far too cold to embark on such a journey at this time of day.

You wouldn't be there until 9 at the earliest.

Meanwhile,

"Have a great day Ryno. Daddy loves you." Jungkook places a quick peck on Ryan's forehead watching him join his friends. He couldn't help himself from scanning the class for you, wondering where you were.

In the meantime he approached Vanessa, handing her a small gift box. "I know Ryan has such a big personality, so here's a little something to help you get through the day." He smiles, "Happy Thanksgiving."

She was shocked to be receiving a gift for Thanksgiving, she usually only expected them around the holidays. It was a $50 gift card to her favourite coffee shop, she has their signature cup of coffee on her desk every morning. "Thank you, Mr. Jeon, this is incredibly thoughtful, and Ryan is such a delight to teach."

"I also have something for Ms. Hill, but I haven't seen her. Is she away today?" Vanessa's brows scrunched, realizing that you would usually be there by now. Her phone begins to ring, "Oh- This is her calling now." Jungkook didn't know whether to stay and listen but he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

"Your bus broke down? Where?"

"East of Park Avenue? That's 30 minutes away." Jungkook's brain was doing summersaults around a mental map he was programming in his head trying to locate where you were based on the information he was hearing.

The conversation continued for a minute more until it ended with Vanessa reminding you to 'stay warm'. "God, that's terrible. It's freezing outside." Jungkook frets and Vanessa manages to contain her thoughts from expressing themselves on her face, suppressing the smirk and opting for a head nod instead.

No less than 5 minutes had passed when Jungkook found himself behind the wheel driving towards your location. The minutes passed like seconds when he spotted the bus sitting on the side of the road.

Parking right behind it, he stepped out of the car and walked along the sides of it trying to spot you, but you saw him first. At first, you couldn't believe it but once you saw that ring tucked into his bottom lip, all doubts were gone.

You grabbed your bag and stepped off the bus, meeting him there at the steps. Looking down at him as the snow gently fell on his beanie, neither of you spoke. Your eyes seemed to be doing all the talking.

"Er-hem." Someone cleared their throat behind you, letting you know that they also wanted to get off and you were blocking the way. Apologizing you stepped off and to the side.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard about what had happened and I couldn't stand there and do nothing. It's freezing out here." You could hardly look at him, he was just too cute, his nose and cheeks were beginning to turn a little rosy from the cold breeze that swept the snow across the sky.

"You came all this way just to give me a ride?" There were puffs of condensation with every breath and he nodded slowly, a little afraid he was coming off as a creep. "Y-yeah, I hope that's alright with you."

"That's perfectly fine with me, let's go before I lose feeling in my fingers for good." he snickers as you practically run towards the car that he'd unlocked.

You were so relieved to be sitting in a warm car with heated seats.

It was no time before Jungkook pulled out and began the careful drive back to the daycare.

The silence was comfortable and it gave you time to focus on regaining feelings in your limbs.

"I never knew that you took the bus," Jungkook starts, turning your face away from the flurries that fall outside the window and landing on the side of his face as he feigns concentration on the road.

"It's my only option since I don't drive," Jungkook's jaw fell open. He tried to catch it in time but it was too late, "Yeah yeah I know. I'm 25 and I don't drive." He takes advantage of the red light to face you, "There's no shame in that. I didn't mean to come off as judgy I was just surprised."

"No, I know. I'm not mad, I'm actually used to it. " The silence resumes, "Is there a reason why you don't drive?" He immediately regretted asking, he felt like he was prying and didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You were already in his car for god's sake.

"You don't have to-"

"I was 19." 

Never mind, he thinks. You seemed more than ready to share.

"I was coming home from school, I had just finished my first exam of many, the roads were dark and I was tired. I thought I saw something run across the street but I told myself I was seeing things. Suddenly there was a thud. My car rocked over and over again, so finally, I stopped. I got out and I was terrified to see the trail of blood that ran behind my wheel. There was a black cat that got caught on my tires and kept getting dragged and rolled around for 20 yards."

Jungkook's hand had somehow found its way cupped over his mouth throughout your story, nothing could have prepared him for a story like that.

"I'm a monster. I know. I've never driven since that day. It's best for the world If I simply don't drive." Now resuming his driving, he took one hand off the wheel to place on your shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're not a monster. It's not your fault. It's not like you did it on purpose. I'm sure the cat forgives you."

You shake your head, "It doesn't change what I did."

Somehow the conversation had taken a brighter turn to the long weekend. "What are your plans for the weekend?" You ask him as he turns into the parking lot of the daycare.

"Same as always, Ryan and I will probably watch movies, cook and do some crafts." Your heart warmed at the engaged weekend he had ahead of him. "That sounds so sweet. I'm sure you guys have loads of fun." He nods, "How about you?"

You laugh sadly, "My parents decided to ditch the cold weather this year and headed to Florida a few weeks ago, so I'll be thankful for wool socks and gossip girl." he laughs.

"You know, It'd be a shame to spend the holidays on your own. You're more than welcome to join our festivities." you looked out the window, not in disinterest but so that he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.

He parks, "No I wouldn't want to impose on-"

"I insist. You wouldn't be doing anything of the sort. it would be nice to have you." You smile. "Okay, I'll be there,"

The hours flew by faster than you could even realize. Practically startled to see a parent walking into the classroom ready to pick up their child, and just like that, the day was over.

There were no more than a handful of kids left, but no more than the usual 5 or 6 whose parents had signed them up for aftercare due to their schedules, including Ryan who you just watched offer his crayons to his classmate Lia.

Vanessa was quick to acknowledge his kindness and gave him a sticker, you would have loved to have been part of the moment but unfortunately, you were just pulled into the hall by another teacher being asked to supervise another class while she used the bathroom.

By the time you returned, you saw Jungkook and Ryan packing up the last of their things getting ready to go, but he seemed almost relieved to see you.

"I never got the chance to give this to you earlier this morning," He hands you a small bag. You were stunned at what was inside. "In the spirit of thanksgiving, I wanted to show you my gratitude." He smiles.

You pry the bag open delicately moving over the tissue paper to see a hardcover novel. You knew the cover anywhere. "I've been trying to get my hands on this book for months! It's been sold out everywhere how did you get it?"

A sly grin slowly works its way across his features but he doesn't say. "How did you even know I wanted this?" You were trying your best to resist the urge to hug him. "I'd only seen you with the previous book laying on your desk wide open a dozen times, and all the sticky notes you'd have sticking out. It was a lucky guess that you were a fan of the series."

Stunned to silence, you let your smile speak for itself. "I love it. Thank you so much." His hand raises to his chest as a sign of relief but it is actually him trying to calm his racing heart. He was afraid you wouldn't like it; but what was there not to like?

How couldn't you like it?

-

Why couldn't you find anything you liked? Nearly half your closet was on your bed, quickly falling to the floor over time as you searched high and low for something to wear. This would be the first time Jungkook would see you outside of your workloads so you wanted to look good, but not too good of course.

You didn't want to seem like you were trying too hard. Being effortlessly flawless was the look you were trying to go for but you fear you've passed that point as you started to break a sweat a few minutes ago.

Unsure of how much time has passed, feeling stuck in the endless fashion time warp continuum. The pit in your stomach suddenly grew three times larger once you'd realized you had no more than 30 minutes to get ready if you wanted to catch your bus.

Begrudgingly, you finally picked something to wear. A minimalistic brown crew neck with your black Lulu leggings and beige wool socks that would match perfectly with your Uggs. You wanted to look cute but still put together, so you decided to slick your hair up into a neat bun.

Scrambling to grab your bag and your house keys before you paced your way down the street to the bus stop.

Watching the apartment buildings slowly become more narrow and shorter as you saw more and more modern condos. Only 20 minutes had passed on your commute until it was time to begin your 7-minute walk to your destination.

With one last sneak peek into your bag to make sure the desserts you'd brought were still in order and weren't dishevelled at some point during your journey.

Looking back up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting no more than 10 seconds before an over-eager Ryan swung the door open, out of sight but not out of earshot, you could still hear Jungkook's sweet voice scolding his son.

"Ryan, what did I tell you about opening the door?" Finally, he comes into sight from around a bend inside revealing an entirely new Jungkook.

He looked, good. Better than good. He looked hot.

Wearing an army green Essentials hoodie paired with beige cargos and a silver chain that hung around his neck.

Oh, and his hair was blonde.

Surprised that your eyes hadn't fallen out of their sockets at the sight of his freshly bleached locks with his naturally dark roots. God, he was so fine.

"Hey! Come in, come in. " He steps to the side and Ryan is gently nudged over by his dad's leg to make room for you and your things as you step inside.

Your senses are immediately welcomed by the scent of mahogany, carefully chosen as it mingles with the comforting aromas of a Thanksgiving feast in the making.

"Hi, Ms. Hill!" Ryan shouts, loud enough for you to hear from 50 feet away. He was just the cutest, "Hi, Ryan!"

Jungkook smiled, "I'm glad you could make it," instinctively reaching out to take the bag from your hands so you could focus on taking off your shoes and jacket. "I brought this for you guys." You say, prompting Jungkook to peek into the bad, grinning at the sight of the mini chocolate cupcakes.

"I can't guarantee these will make it to tomorrow."

Once your boots were off and sat neatly near the door, Jungkook offered to take your jacket from you, entrusting Ryan with the duty of holding the bag with the desserts and sending him off to place them somewhere in the kitchen.

"Your hair." You finally say, giving your neck a minor strain as you look up to the man as he leads you further into the house. Everything was styled so neatly.

The colour palette consists of soft whites and beige with a splash of greens and turquoise. The fireplace was lit, emanating a gentle warmth throughout the open concept. It gave the living room a cozy feel along with the brown fleece throw blanket that was placed carefully over his sectional couch.

"Yeah, I got pretty sick of the blue, I thought it was time for a change." With a mind of their own, his hands run through his hair before he gives it a shake. "Do you like it?" He knew the answer, you're sure he did.

It's like a demi-god asking if they were attractive, the answer was obvious. "It would be a lie if I said I didn't." You leaned onto the kitchen island, your line of sight landing on the four-year-old who busied himself with the pile of crayons and paper on the carpet.

You hated how easily the two of you fell into natural conversation almost forgetting that it was Thanksgiving if it weren't for the sudden waft of a delicious meal in the making hitting your nose. "Something smells delicious." Your nose twitched cutely as you sniffed; your curious brown eyes watching Jungkook as he rounded the island closer to you to check on the food in the oven.

"Hmmm... It'll be about another hour or so, I hope that's alright?" You'd decided to finally plant yourself down somewhere, inwardly unable to decide where since there were so many options, the big comfy couch, the table or the barstool chair that you finally decided to go with.

"In the meantime, do you want anything to drink? I have water, champagne, white wine, red wine, apple cider, coffee, milk- oh! and Apple juice." you can't help but giggle into your hand as he lists off what seems to be a never-ending list of beverages.

"Apple juice is fine, thanks." Or at least you thought it was the safe choice until you heard a loud objection bubble out of Ryan's throat. His voice was absolutely enraged. "No! That's mine!" His little steps quicken over to your feet, reaching for the juice box from your hand.

"Ryan. What did I tell you about sharing?" He doesn't listen, his face becoming more and more frustrated the longer he goes without your (his) juice box in his hands. His small hands reach out for you.

One could blame it on your background of teaching when you had an idea. Reaching for the child-sized cup on the counter as you popped open the juice box.

"Is it okay if we share it? You can have some and I can have some." He still didn't seem entirely convinced but he calmed down a little watching you squeeze half of the box into his cup before handing it down to him.

Holding the cup securely with his two hands he looks down into the cup with an inquisitive look, as if questioning your motives behind your generosity. "What do you say to Ms. Hill for being so nice and sharing?" He looks up at you, with no emotion on his face for an uncomforting amount of time, scanning you.

"Thank you, Ms. Hill!" He beams with a big smile and scuttles back to his drawing station, but Jungkook can't risk the little adventurer ruining his carpet and orders him to drink it in the kitchen. At least that way any spills can be wiped away from the tile.

Jungkook couldn't get over how patient you were, but he supposed it to be expected. You worked with dozens of kids every day for a living. You must be a saint. He's sure he would've lost it.

Jungkook groans, letting his head fall onto his arms as he leans onto the counter with a long sigh, one that lifts a bit of exhaustion from within him. "Everything alright?"

He nods, "'Jus' never thought being a single father would be this difficult. Every day it's eat sleep work repeat, on top of being a dad to a child who just can't seem to share with others, and it makes me wonder if it's my fault."

Maybe it was the hazy scented candles getting to your brain, the toasty fireplace nearby giving you warm fuzzies or maybe the apple juice had a little kick to it but you took a leap of boldness to place your hand on his shoulder.

Watching his eyes trail from your short manicured nails to your big brown eyes that looked at him with the utmost sincerity. Like a pool chocolate kindness. "He's a great kid, Jungkook. Every child goes through a rebellious stage at some point, it's practically inevitable. I've seen this over a thousand times, it doesn't take away from how special he is, just look at him."

The two of you observe the preschooler as he hums the tune to an incomprehensible song with his tongue slightly poking out as he coloured his papers passionately. "Thank you, Y/n." Your head whips around at the warm contact of his hand on yours, it didn't feel alarming at all, it was nice if anything.

-

"Wow. I don't think I could eat another bite, that may just be the best meal I've ever had." You groan, a limp hand on your stomach as you lean back in your chair, sitting across from Ryan whose placemat was covered in various foods and sauces that he was told to stop playing with half through dinner.

Jungkook grins from ear to ear, "Thanks, it's nice to hear." You sigh, "No seriously, where did you learn to cook like that? And more importantly, when can you teach me?" His head falls back as he laughs right from his chest. You couldn't help but think how much you were enjoying yourself.

"Funny you should say that," Jungkook picks up the empty plates from the table, putting them in the sink before walking out of view briefly leaving you with Ryan who stared at you with a grin.

"Where did your dad go?" His smile grew even wider if possible before bringing his gravy-covered index finger to his lips making a 'shush' noise. No more than 5 seconds passed before Jungkook returned with a pumpkin about the size of your head.

"Who wants to make pumpkin pie?" You laugh, unable to take him seriously.

-

"No I can't Jungkook- NO!" You shout, afraid you'd collapse from the lack of oxygen that was reaching your lungs from so much laughter as Jungkook was currently holding your hand trying to get you to scoop out some of the pumpkin seeds.

"You can do it, Ms. Hill!" Ryan cheers you on as your fingers make contact with the guts against your will. They were slimy, and soft, and triggered your sensory issues in every way imaginable. You gagged while Ryan laughed until his face was red.

Scooping out the last of them and placing them into the bag that Jungkook would dump into the compost later.

The three of you popped the pumpkin pie into the oven together and transitioned into your next set of activities. Soon the three of you made your own custom turkeys out of construction paper and googly eyes.

Which led you to now. The three of you snuggled up under the big brown blanket that was once just decoration but now provided warmth along with the crackling fireplace.

Now halfway into the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving movie, you looked into your side where Ryan had nestled himself comfortably, soft snores leaving his mouth with each breath.

"He's just the cutest." You say, moving one of his hairs out of his face, watching him while Jungkook watched you. Nothing is more appealing to him than watching you care for Ryan. "When did you know you wanted to start working with kids?" Jungkook asks, prompting you to think endlessly but you couldn't come to a conclusion.

"I don't know honestly. Maybe it's because I grew up in a pretty big family. Even though my immediate family is just me and my parents I was always the unspoken babysitter at family events, watching over all my younger cousins all the time."

"Well if no one has told you, let me be the first to say you're amazing." You turn to him, it was long past sunset, leaving the living room with a darker ambiance than when you'd first arrived but the warm glow of the flames on the side of Jungkook's face paired with that look in his eyes tempting you.

He leaned in ever so slightly but you looked towards the boy that was stirring uncomfortably in his sleep as if you were bothering him. With his still closed he flipped around to lay his head on the couch cushions instead.

It was impossible to contain your soft giggles at his sass even when he was sleeping. "You want something to drink?" Jungkook offers, "Please." you chuckle, unravelling yourself from the tangle of blankets and following him to the kitchen.

He poured you both a glass of wine, resuming your previous conversation from where you stood in the corner of the kitchen against the counter near the oven that radiated a glorious smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon.

The tension could be cut with a knife. The way the two of you were looking at each other, practically stripping the other down with your eyes. Before you knew it, Jungkook was leaning into you and this time you definitely could blame it on the wine.

Placing your glass down on the counter behind you without thought and pulling his face to yours before finally pressing your lips against his own. Putting your heart into it before he pulled away, looking minorly dishevelled and flustered, "I-I was just reaching for my phone," He points weakly, his joints feeling as though they could fail him any second.

Your head rotates in horror to see his phone was in fact behind you and buzzing-- "Oh my god--" You held your red face in utter embarrassment, turning to walk away from him in shame but Jungkook would never allow that. Instantly grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back into him.

Your hips pressed flush against each other as he initiated a deep kiss, the kind you see at the end of a romance movie, nothing but passion and pent-up feelings. Feelings that he's held for you since the day he saw you.

He backed you up into the counter, your hands scrambling to brace yourself on his firm chest and he groaned softly into your mouth causing your knees to go weak. The kiss lasted longer than you thought you could hold your breath for, never wanting it to end.

"Wow-" you puff out a breath of air after the best kiss of your life. "A great cook and an even better kisser-- What can't you do?" For the first time, Jungkook's cheeks tint a rosy shade of pink but there's no time to respond as he hears Ryan complain.

"Daddy, I'm tired." You see his little head pop up from behind the couch with a bedhead of hair as he rubs his eye. "Yeah? You wanna get ready for bed little man? Come on let's go." Jungkook urges, turning to you with apologetic eyes, "I'll be right back, keep an eye on the pie for me?" You smile and nod.

Watching him disappear down the hall almost in a trace. A trance that was interrupted by the ceaseless buzzing of his phone. Buzz after Buzz after Buzz.

You shouldn't.

But the buzzing wouldn't stop.

What if it was an emergency?

You peeked at the screen.

Hana

-Where are you?

-I can't stop thinking about our night together.

-Pick up, I want to talk to you.

-When will I see you again? :(

Your stomach twisted, and you were certain it wasn't because of the wine. The oven timer goes off. How comedic. You shake it off, using the oven mitts to place the pie on the stove but ultimately deciding you wouldn't be able to stay any longer.

You didn't want to be the other woman, or the 'main' woman for that matter. You wanted nothing to do with someone who was possibly seeing two people at once.

Quietly you grabbed your things and made your way towards the door. Slipping into your Uggs and slinging your side bag over your shoulder when Jungkook sees you about to leave.

"Wait, Y/n. Where are you going? What's wrong?" Nothing but concern and confusion was written all over his face.

"I had a really great time tonight, Jungkook, Thank you. But I should really get going." Already twisting the door open and stepping through it, letting the frosty air nip at your cheeks and sweep by Jungkook's feet.

"it's dark and it's freezing outside, let me give you a ride." You object, "It's fine, it's only a 15-minute bus. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Like a whirlwind, you spun his world around and by the time he blinked you were gone.

Thanks for Reading!!

Let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist <3

[kaibutsushidousha]

Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024

Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.

My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?

Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.

Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.

Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.

Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.

Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.

Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.

Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.

Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.

No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.

[hier--soir]

a lover's pinch | four

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: after a conference in new york, you and j miller phd take things a step further. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, i think i describe reader as having sweaty palms about 1500 times so it deserves a warning, alcohol consumption, the plight of being a woman in academia, oral [f receiving], unprotected piv sex [IN A BED ??? GASP] for you filthy animals, prone bone, a little roughness and then not much at all, uhhh pet names during sex.... uhhmm intimacy errrrrr.... soft!joel... feelings... okay bye word count: 9.3k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: hey folks, thank you so much for all your patience as i took my sweet sweet time writing this. we get to know our prof a little better in this one so a fair amount of dialogue for you but yeah anyways i hope you enjoy it, and i'd love to hear what you think! [and if i Fell Off because of the depression, don't tell me lol] A WORD ABOUT THE TAG LIST: i will continue the taglist for this part and for part five, and after that i will rely solely on my notifications account @hier--soirupdates so pls follow that and turn on notifs to be told when i post writing x this is part four of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three.

Saturday.

The conference centre is vast.

A large space that protects you from the threatening clouds that loom over New York City, and exposes you to countless dense conversations.

An NYU teacher’s assistant is glued to your hip, parading you through the centre with a wayward index finger that points out the bar, the room where the keynote speech will be given [large, with an imposing stage], and the room where you will give your presentation [less large, with a far less imposing stage].

Your presentation.  

You fight the urge to pull up the email for the thousandth time while she explains how there will be fifteen minutes to set up beforehand, and advises on when the doors will open for guests, and reminds you that you have a strict allotted time of 20-minutes, do you understand?

But the email is branded on the inside of your eyelids after this morning’s flight was spent reading and rereading and rereading the words. So you nod and smile and placate her on the tour of the centre, as you run through it in your mind.

We look forward to welcoming you to NYU’s Annual Classics and Ancient History Conference. Our team was intrigued by the presentation devised around your translation study in Athens…

“Did you hear me?”

You wish she wasn’t dressed so casually.

Loose balls of lint are collected on the back of her cardigan like trinkets, weighty and threatening to fall off in a sort of bread crumb trail behind her every movement. It makes your dress feel all the more serious, all the more formal. Navy blue and a little tight, with sleeves that slant across the middle of your bicep and a hem that cuts modestly across your lower thigh. Professional, smart, sexy, but not too sexy. You and Nora spent two hours at the mall picking it out last weekend. And you can see people in suits, in blazers, in dresses, everywhere you turn, but your eyes keep returning to the TA’s cardigan. Little pills, sad morsels of broken fabric.

She says your name sharply.

“Yes,” you snap to attention, and clock her poor attempt not to roll her eyes. “You were saying?”

“It’s an open bar,” she continues from a few steps ahead, slowly back away while raising her voice to be heard over the countless others sprouting across the room. “And food is served after the Keynote.”

Finally free of her and her cardigan, you scale the edge of the hall, curious eyes glancing across faces familiar and not. You notice some other postgrads from UNE, and some professors from your alma mater. But it isn’t until three hours into the conference that you notice him.

You’re in a painfully long conversation with Professor Carmichael, an ancient history department head from Boston, when you notice them.

“Well you see,” he’s saying, slowly. “The First Roman Triumvirate was very unique. Surely you agree with me there, my dear?”

“Of course,” you nod amiably. A waiter floats past you holding a tray of glasses. You grasp one with a grateful smile, and turn back to face him with a sip of cold white wine moving down your throat. “The Big Three, it’s all very interesting. Although I must say, I am personally more interested in the second triumvirat—”

“Oh they all say that,” he waves his hand. “Everyone is so taken by Antony and Octavian that they forget about Crassus! So tragic.”

“A very tragic death,” you offer an exaggerated frown. “I agree.”

Carmichael hums, eyes narrowing as if you’ve said something wrong. Sipping your wine, your eyes float over his shoulder, determinedly trying to spot any sign of food, gaze spilling across countless faces and tables and waiters and professors until one set of people makes you pause.  Wild dark hair atop a floral dress floats in your vision, her pale hand hovering over the sleeve of a tall man in a suit. You watch the backs of their heads; the way the woman tilts her chin upward to speak to the man and laughs at what he says in return. That laugh. You frown, and feel yourself take a step forward, a step in their direction.

“Is something the matter?” Carmichael asks and you halt, flash him a sweet smile and shake your head.

“No,” you rush, practically tasting the opportunity to escape the conversation. “I’m sorry, Professor, I thought I saw someone waving me over. If you don’t min—”

“Always so many people to talk to at these things,” he says in a sing-song tone of voice, smiling obliviously. “All in due course, dear. You’ll find them later I’m sure.”

It’s not until fifteen minutes later that the tap comes on your shoulder. You turn and feel relief wash over you as you come face to face with Rachel, with her tangle of curls and bright orange dress. But then a jolt shudders through your frame, for you spot the man accompanying her; the man you watched her traipse around the room with, the man in the sleek black suit—Joel, hovering a step behind her.

“Rachel,” you blink. “Joel. Hi—”

“I didn’t know you’d be here!” Rachel says. Her eyes are wide, lips pulled back into a crooked grin that immediately sets you at ease. Joel, on the other hand, looks uncomfortable to say the least. You watch him tuck his hands in his pockets and then take them out again quickly, lips pursed together in a tight line as he glances between you and Professor Carmichael.

“Joel,” she grips the sleeve of his blazer and tugs him forward to stand beside her. You watch where her hand grazes him - the ease with which she jostles him around. “Did you know?”

“No.” He stares for a moment, lips parted and eyes darting across your face, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t know.”

“I’m giving a presentation,” you explain quickly, eyes darting between the two of them, fingers tightening around your glass every time your eyes settle on him. He trimmed his beard again; the hairs are shorter, neater—almost too short and too neat for your liking. His shirt is pressed and crisp, shock white beneath the midnight black of his jacket. He’s wearing different glasses. Tortoise shell glasses. Someone clears their throat to your right, snapping you out of your reverie. You apologise quickly, “This is Professor Carmichael.”

“Of course,” Joel nods, stepping forward to grip the older man’s hand. “Good to see you again, Professor.”

“And you, Professor Miller,” Carmichael chuckles, patting a shaky hand against Joel’s shoulder. “When was the last time we crossed paths? A year ago?”

“Must’ve been a year,” Joel smiles easily. His eyes slip to look at you every few seconds. “The conference in Ottawa.”

“The conference in Ottawa!” Carmichael cheers, nodding away. A weight sinks in your stomach like a cinder block as you watch the Professor gear up to wrangle Joel and Rachel into another conversation about Crassus’ untimely demise. But then Rachel slips away, called out to by someone across the room. And before Carmichael can open his mouth, Joel is speaking again, that honeyed drawl like music to your ears.

“Excuse me, Professor Carmichael,” he smiles again. Two of his fingers grip your elbow, tugging you a step backward. “Do you mind if I steal my star student for a few moments?”

Joel tilts your body to the left, and then the two of you are veering off into the crowd, wandering through throngs of people, his warm fingers pressed against the soft flesh above your elbow.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” you say under your breath, glancing around warily, trying to spy any curious eyes that might notice the two of you.   

“Could say the same thing,” he murmurs, dragging you to a stop at the edge of the hall with his eyebrows raised. “When’s your talk?”

“At one. Overlaps with the Keynote, which I’m a little relieved about,” you smile, a pinched, tense thing. “Hopefully everyone will go to that, and I’ll have a smaller crowd.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise. You think you notice his shoulders stiffen. “S’that right?”

A persistent pang of hunger stabs through your stomach, you rub a hand over the front of your dress and nod. Curious brown eyes follow the movement.

“Here,” Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. His fingers graze your skin as he tucks the shiny rectangle of foil into your palm. “They don’t put out any food until after the Keynote.”

It’s a granola bar. Peanut butter and banana. You stare at it for a moment, almost dumbfounded by the kindness of the gesture. By how attentive he is; how much he notices without you even having to speak.

“Thanks,” you say. Nestle it into your purse and give him an appreciative smile.

“Sure,” he nods jerkily. Adjusts the glasses on his nose. “I’m disappointed to miss it.”

“Oh?” you blink. Your eyes focus then, flitting downward to focus on the badge hanging from his lanyard.

Joel Miller, Ph.D.

University of New England.

Keynote Speaker.

“Oh, shit.”

“Mhm,” Joel squints at you. “Sorry if I don’t share the sentiment that everyone comes to watch me instead of you.”   

“Why didn’t you…” you gape. “You didn’t say you were giving a talk?” 

“You didn’t ask.”

“The Keynote speech is a big deal,” you say, as if he wouldn’t know.

“I was their third choice,” he shrugs you off with practiced ease. “First two weren’t interested.”

“Third time lucky then,” you smile, and he chuckles. Someone calls Joel’s name then, and you both spin to see Rachel across the room with a group of people, all eagerly waving him over. Something nasty curls in your chest – something bitter and unwarranted and cruel. You smother it with a mouthful of wine and a soft smile of farewell to him as he turns and walks in her direction.

A hand clasps down on your shoulder and you flinch, turning to see Professor Carmichael beaming.

“Where were we then, my dear?”

You eat Joel’s granola bar at the back of the hall five minutes before your talk and walk onstage with the taste of peanut and banana on your lips, brushing crumbs of dried oats off your fingers.

Fifteen people attend, spotted miscellaneously across the amassed rows of chairs. The slide clicker is damp in your palm, and your thumb hovers trembling over the button, awaiting each moment you need to press down.

“Working alongside some fantastic translators,” you tell them. “We focused on studying the disparities between how Greek texts are translated by men and women. Particularly, we aimed to delve into the way emotive language has been downgraded or elevated depending on the lens through which a text is being viewed.”

Professor Carmichael sits in the front row, those sun-spot covered hands clasped in his lap, offering an encouraging smile as you shift upon the stage. Rachel is a few rows back, and she nods intently whenever you glance in her direction.

“One of our main points of focus,” you continue. “Was to understand points of difficulty in translating while accounting for cultural nuances, and how the context of differing authors can impact upon this. In my next slide—”

It’s as you turn to glance at the display that you notice them for the first time. Three rows from the front, where a group of men sit. Two of them young, maybe around your age. You change your slide and watch them whisper in each other’s ears. One of them points at you. Or not you, rather—your legs.

And you yearn for it to be meaningless. A meaningless gesture between colleagues. Meaningless legs, meaningless dress, meaningless curves and slopes and dips and spins. But as you continue, you know it can’t be. The way they talk through your presentation, as if they aren’t bothered to be heard. The way they leer at you over Carmichael’s shoulder, grinning to each other. Your words in one ear and out the other—simply a talking point for them, a blue dress, something to stare at. Your dress feels hot, tight, and your chest feels hotter, tighter under the lights as those eyes glaze over you. You glance back towards Rachel. She gives you a thumbs up that doesn’t serve to cool your nerves.

“When translating word for word in our field, it’s uncommon,” you stutter to a stop, eyes flashing warily. “Sorry, it is not uncommon to find that narratological creativity dwindles.”

You hear a chuckle to your right and swallow down the urge to shoot daggers in the direction of the sound. “Translators struggle to maintain the in-depth imaginative expression that the original Greek text inspires. But through my discussions with Professor Samaras, we found that…”

It’s in the final minutes that you notice him. Tucked away in a back row of the room, arms folded across his chest. You pause for a moment, words caught in your throat. But Joel merely gives you a short nod. The faintest hint of a smile, of the corner of his eyes slanting upward, and it’s as if a cool breeze washes over you. Hands steady, knees lock, and you push through. You don’t look at any of their faces until it’s over.

And when it is, and scattered applause decorates the air, you can’t help but cast a smile in Joel’s direction. A smile that slips and wavers when you spot the broad expanse of his back, that sharp black blazer, as he slips out the doors without wasting a second.

The rest of your audience follows suit, a slim line that wanders out the doors without a second glance—spare Carmichael, who tells you he was quite taken with how you presented yourself, my dear.

You hear your own name and turn to see Rachel approaching, a burst of floral frock and swinging earrings. Her smile is wide and crooked, and you can’t help but smile back.

“That was wonderful,” she cheers, squeezing your shoulder. “I was so taken by how you spoke about the importance of linguistic quality assurance when translating emotive texts. Brilliant!”

Your face warms. “Thank you,” you shake your head quickly. “It was… thank you. That’s very kind.”

You glance over her shoulder, wondering if he’ll reappear – perhaps share her sentiments, maybe shower you with praise. He doesn’t.

She catches you looking. “Joel was in a rush,” she offers easily. “Lots of people wanting to talk to the man of the evening.”

“Of course,” you swallow thickly. Another smile.

Rachel stares at you curiously. “He’s very impressed by you, you know.” Her voice is warm, gentle—soft spoken like a mother who can sense the slightest flash of insecurity. You cringe immediately, feel your arms cross protectively across your chest. Don’t give the game away now. “Honestly, I think he read your comparative paper on the katabasis three times. Practically raved about it when I asked what it was.”

“Oh,” you blink, shifting uneasily under her gaze. “That’s… wow, I’m flattered.”

“He sees a lot of potential in you,” she says.

“Right,” you nod. “Well, he’s a grea—you’re both great teachers. I’m very lucky to be learning from the two of you.”

She doesn’t speak for a moment, and you fear your face grows warmer in the silence. Can feel the slick on your palms returning, the flash of heat in your chest, the longer you sit in it. You make a quick and tumbling excuse to flee the scene, spitting a mess of thank you so much and just need some fresh air, before you’re stumbling out of the hall and wandering outside on newborn deer legs. You snag a flute of something bubbly off the bar on your way, and find yourself on a secluded bench in the breezeway behind the conference centre.

You sit there alone and watch the grass, the way the light from inside shines out across the green. Feel the chill of the wind slip past you, rustling your hair and raising goosebumps on your bare legs. Sip dry Cava and contemplate how many more of these things you can feasibly imagine attending in your career. There’s a single text from Nora on your phone, asking how the presentation went. You tuck it into your purse, leaving the message unanswered.

By the time you hear the door hinges creak, the glass is near empty. You spy a shadowy form snaking its way down the path, headed in your direction.

“Mr Keynote Speaker,” you hum. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Funny,” Joel mutters dryly, knees cracking as he falls onto the bench beside you. A heavy sigh slips from between his lips, fingers lacing together in his lap as he gazes across the breezeway. You down the last of your drink and place it on the concrete by your feet. “Needed some god damn peace and quiet. All that chit chat drives me insane.”

You murmur in agreement and stare at the side of his face – the neatened beard, the thick frame of his glasses. Purposeful or not, the side of his body is pressed against yours. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder – he’s sat directly in the centre of the bench. Heat radiates off his body and it’s almost too warm, and yet you find yourself relaxing against him.

“First time at one of these?” Joel asks gruffly. He’s still not looking at you, his eyes trained on a pigeon pecking at a discarded foil wrapper on the grass.

“Is it that obvious?” you grimace.

“Only because I’ve been to twenty of the damn things,” he says. “Y’learn how to smell the nervous energy comin’ off the first timers.”

“Twenty?” you mutter. Feel your stomach curl and twist at the idea of doing this day nineteen more times.

“Somethin’ like that.” Joel glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Went to a lot during my second degree. Had to get good at talkin’, fast.”

“Ahh,” you say. “So, you weren’t always such a sweet talker then?”

He lets out a low chuckle, as if amused by the thought. “Sweet talker, huh? That what I am?”

You shrug, suddenly emboldened by him following you outside, by how close he is, by how open he seems.

“I suppose,” you say slowly.

“And what gave you that idea?”

“You here alone?” you offer a poor imitation of him, voice low and breathy with your awful take on a Southern twang. “Meet me in the bathroom.” You wink, quietly delighted by the way his lips have tightened into a flat line.

“Funny,” he says again, entirely unamused now.

Something warm shifts in your lower stomach. Something wet—a vivid memory of him on the ground behind you in the bathroom of a bar, of hands spreading you open, of his tongue pressing inside you, of The Eagles playing faintly in the background.

“You do that kind of thing often?” you ask.  

“Do what?”

“Approach young women at bars,” you wiggle your eyebrows, smirking. “Rob them of their virtue in the bathroom and then hope you never see them again.”

“You? Virtuous?” Joel rolls his eyes. You can see the corner of his lip curling upward. “Must be gettin’ yourself confused with somebody else.”  

“Maybe,” you smile.

“Sometimes,” he casts you a look, after a moment. “Not… often. And not young.”

“Younger,” you counter quickly.

“I didn’t expect you to be…” he trails off and shakes his head. “It’s not a thing I do, alright?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s not.”

“You don’t date then?”

He tilts his head at you curiously, eyes planted firmly on your face now. “Not for a long time.”

“Why not?”

“Been busy,” he grunts, clearly growing impatient by the line of questioning.  “Spent a lot of time studying. Working.”

“Where did you study?” you press.

“This twenty fuckin’ questions?” he snaps, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Came out here for—”

“You came out here,” you interrupt. “Because I came out here.”

He glowers at you, but doesn’t try to deny it.

“Night classes at Texas A&M for my undergrad,” he grits out. You smile sickly sweet, pleased. “Did my postgrads part time at UT Austin,” Joel says.

Your eyebrows kick up again, the teasing pretence all but forgotten. “Sounds… unconventional?” you offer softly.

“That’s one word for it,” he agrees vaguely. “Spent the better half of a decade at school just to end up teaching at one. Ain’t that somethin’.”

“And before that?” you press.  

“Before that,” he continues with a wry grin, one full of distaste and frustration and resentment. “Was a contractor for a long time. Houses, buildings.” He rests a hand against his shoulder, fingers pressing against the muscle there, as if working out a decade old knot.

And for a moment you can see it. Can almost taste it. Collared shirts and glasses replaced with hard hats and hammers and dirt in the lines of his palms. Joel carrying a plank of wood on his shoulder, wearing a toolbelt. Joel on his knees, sweat shining on his forehead while he wields an electric drill.

Your dress feels too tight suddenly. Too warm.

“A contractor,” you say distractedly, and hope he doesn’t notice how your thighs press together.

“Mhm,” Joel nods. “With my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

He ignores that. “Where did you study?”

“San Diego State,” you flash him a grin. “Go Aztecs.”

“Good school,” he hums. “You’re a long way from California.”

Only a little further than Texas, you think.

“You did good up there,” Joel adds.  

Your smile dips and wanes into a scowl, uninterested in the change of subject.

“What?”

“It was…” you shake your head slowly, face warming as you glance down to your lap.

“What?”

“It just wasn’t what I expected.” You pick at a loose thread on the hem of your dress. “That’s all.”

“And what did you expect?”

“To be listened to,” you grunt. “Not gawked at by some ancient jerkoffs that were only there to stare at my ass when I turned to change a slide.”

Joel nods, quiet.

“I wanted it to matter,” you mutter. “Wanted to… fuck, I wanted to impress them.”

“I was impressed.”

“Oh yeah?” you snort, finally looking up. “You hightailed it out of there pretty quickly.”

Joel shakes his head and stares back at you, gaze heavy. His hands tighten into fists against his thighs, knuckles lightening to white as he squeezes. You shuffle on the seat—ignore the flare of heat that erupts where your shoulder nudges firmer against his. 

“I guess you could say,” he speaks slowly. “I’m tryin’ to keep my distance.”

You arch an eyebrow and attempt to swallow the laugh bubbling up your throat.

“Well, you’re doing a great job,” you smirk.

Joel laughs and your smile falters, mouth going slack at the sound. How rare it is, and how much rarer to have it all to yourself like this. For all of his sharp angles, his sweet talking, his harsh words, and harsher touch—that laugh is the cruellest part.  

He jostles his shoulder against yours a little. An acknowledgement; perhaps a glimpse inside. Something that says, I know, I see it, I feel it, I can’t stop either.

“You make it hard,” he says then, and his voice is soft—almost a whisper.

“How’s that?” You match his tone, as if you’re two little kids who’ve snuck outside to share secrets where no one else can hear them.

“You bein’ here,” he murmurs, eyes searching. “Startin’ to feel like you’re everywhere I turn.”

A breeze swims past and you shiver, locks of hair floating in a mess around your face until you pat them down. Joel moves almost imperceptibly, curling his side tighter against yours to shield you from the onslaught.

“I know the feeling,” you admit.

The muscle in his jaw ticks and he clears his throat, looking out across the green again. For a moment the pair of you sit in silence. Not as professor and student, but simply a man and a woman on a bench. Breathing the same air, soaking in a shared silence that only the two of you could understand. And there are so many more questions you want to ask him, so much more you feel compelled to know, but instead you settle for this—sitting on a bench together, shoulders and thighs and chests pressed side to side, two frames moulded around the welcoming shape of one another. For now.

“It gets easier,” Joel says then, jaw tense as he spares a glance back in your direction. “This stuff, these people, all the talkin’.”

You acknowledge him with a small smile, just the slightest twitch of your lip. Don’t bother saying, maybe for you. Maybe for a man.

“You know,” you suck in a breath and give him a lazy smile instead. “I think this might be the longest conversation we’ve had without ripping each other’s clothes off.”

“Mm.” He leans his head back to rest on the wall, eyes focusing up towards the sky.

“I like it,” you say quietly. Hear how vulnerability chimes in your voice – a wobble that begs to be ignored and understood all at once. “It’s nice… talking like this.”

Joel’s head tilts towards you, dark eyes locked on yours. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see that wariness in his eyes. The same wariness that poured out in flecks of brown and amber and gold in the light of your bedroom a week ago, when he told you he was fifty. A hesitant curiosity, an incessant suspicion, a bark of disbelief. You feel the desire to pluck the feeling out of him and swallow it whole. To lock it safely inside yourself and make it so he never has to feel it again.

So you lean in a press your lips against his. Painfully soft, just a whisper of two mouths slotting together. Chapped and dry from the wind, he tastes like bitter sparkling wine. You sigh into him, uncaring. Hook your ankle around his, place your hand on his thigh, and sink closer, deeper.

He pulls back an inch, mouth still hovering over yours, the tip of his nose pressed into your cheek.

“Shouldn’t do this here,” he warns quietly, eyes still closed. His breath is hot against your face, and you inhale the taste of mint and Cava and Joel.

“I know.” You grip the lapel of his blazer and kiss him again. Firmer this time, grazing your tongue along the seam of his lips until he welcomes you inside to taste behind his teeth. The frame of his glasses presses into your nose, your cheeks, and you smile into his mouth. Rough palms and lazy fingertips graze the skin of your bicep, your neck, until they find a home at the nape of your neck. His thumb presses against the hinge of your jaw, hot wet tongue working your mouth open until you’re whining, teeth nipping at his bottom lip and fingernails digging into the meat of his thigh.

Only when you move to press a hand beneath the collar of his shirt does Joel pull back again, this time to stand and take a step away from the bench. A tinge of scarlet creeps its way from the hollow of his throat to the apple of his cheeks. He clears his throat and glances over his shoulder, towards the door. When he looks back, there’s something new there. Some dangerous that flashes in his eyes and lingers when his gaze dances down the curve of your body against the seat.

“Where are you staying?” you ask, breathless.

For a minute he doesn’t answer. Simply stares, contemplating, broad chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The lenses of his glasses are fogged, and you watch them slowly clear.  

Then— “The Pendry.”

Joel reaches into his pocket and retrieves something small and laminated. You take it from his outstretched palm carefully. “Fifth floor.”

You stare at it for a moment. Turn it over in your palm once, twice. Read the room number printed on the key card before tucking it safely into your purse. When you look up again, Joel is already walking back inside.

It’s nearing midnight by the time you arrive at the Pendry – a high rise in Manhattan West, the kind with a fancy lobby and a doorman in a neat black suit. The polar opposite of the hotel where your suitcase lies unopened across the city. You feel out of place in an instant, but you’re still in your dress, and the staff don’t bat an eye at your presence. The key card he gave you is hot where your fingers curl around it, plastic damp and foggy with the sweat from your palms. By the time you reach his door you have to wipe it on your dress before the sensor will recognise it.

A hollow beep echoes through the hall, and his door presses open with a soft hiss.

The room is enveloped in darkness. Moonlight shines in through a slim gap in the curtains, highlighting vague edges of the space. A desk against the wall, a large bed on the left of the room. For a moment you consider that he isn’t here—that he got caught up at the conference, sweet talking into the midnight hour with other professors and alums. You can hear sounds from the street, music and car horns blaring, even from the fifth floor. But nothing else. No Joel.

Tentatively, you take a step inside the room. And then another. Kick your heels off and feel rough carpet hairs sift between your toes. Holding your hands out into the darkness, fingertips ghosting the wall for support, you venture further into the room, only pausing when your shin thumps against the corner of something sharp and sturdy.

You spit a surprised curse and stumble into the wall, hands falling to grip your leg where it throbs and smarts.

“Jesus fuck,” you hiss, smoothing your fingers against the already forming lump.

A lamp flicks on, and the room lurches into view, tinged in a soft yellow light. You jump, eyes squinting against the sudden brightness. Bed sheets rumple and shift, and Joel is frowning at you from his place amongst the pillows, a hand raising to drowsily scratch his chin.  

“The hell are you doin’?” he rasps.

Heat flares in your face as you straighten up, mirroring his frown. He moves slow, a sluggish stretch out of bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and he looks almost concerned. It gives you pause for a moment, eyes unsure of where to settle, as you note just how much of his body you’ve never seen before. The soft muscles in his legs, the dark hair over tan skin. You can see the slight round of his stomach through the thin fabric of the shirt.

“Were you asleep?” you accuse.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” Joel mutters, and the sound is a fractured medley of words and yawns. You feel a dull pang of disappointment in your chest as you watch him rub sleep from the corner of his left eye.

“Were you hoping I wouldn’t?”

He doesn’t respond.

“You gave me a key.”   

“I know,” he sighs.

“Of course I was going to come.”

He nods. Yawns again, hand snaking upward to cover his open mouth.

You turn your back on him slowly. Take a glass from the little kitchenette and let the faucet run a cool burst of water into it. Little specks of water splash up, dotting against your hand. Your feet ache from wearing those damn heels all day, but you wilfully ignore the pain, gulping down half the glass while staring at your reflection in the splashback. Blue dress, hair tucked behind your ears, charcoal smudged around the curve of your eyes.

Joel’s fingers wind around yours, peeling the glass from your clutch so he can steal the final few sips. He discards it on the counter and leans against it. You try to make out his expression in the shadowy light, wiping your water-dotted arm against your side.

“S’a good dress.” He looks more alert suddenly, eyes sharp and focused, wide shoulders squared.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

“Didn’t say anything about it earlier.”

“Was tryin’ not to think about it,” he says plainly. “And how badly I wanted to take it off.”

Your hand stills. That misplaced disappointment slips out of the room, an unwelcome third party, and you grin at him. A sleazy, sleepy smile, and walk backwards in the direction of the bed without taking your eyes off of him.

“So take it off,” you challenge.

Your heartbeat is a steady thrum against your breastbone as he crosses the room. Badoom, badoom, no less than three strides and he’s there, gripping your waist to turn you so his chest is against your back.

Your zip is a low whir in the air, spinning downward slowly, slowly, from the nape of your neck to the sloping base of your spine. Deft hands trace skin, grazing every mark, every freckle as they are revealed to him, until the material of your dress is a gaping smile across your back. You shiver as the air rushes to meet your bare flesh, and then careful—cautious—you feel a pair of lips press against the top of your spine, soft pink against steely vertebrae. You say his name, low and surprised, and he doesn’t say anything. Those hands push the dress down your arms, and you watch it tremble and fall, a mess of blue at your feet.

You can hear his breathing; the way it stutters and jumps as he traces the clasp of your bra, the arch of your spine beneath it.

“Take it off,” you say again, and feel a sharp scratch of desperation that perhaps this time he won’t deny you this. This something that you’ve not experienced even once, and yet you find yourself missing.

The idea of his skin against yours is something prophetic, something inevitable, something divine—something determined far before the two of you met in that bar. It’s out of your control or his, irrevocable—a beast bred from desire that claws and snaps at the bars of its cage, calling you kicking and screaming into each other’s arms.

His fingers pluck at the clasp, and you smile. Sigh in relief as your bra hits the floor and the weight of your breasts are borne to the increasingly warm air. Joel is still behind you, still not seeing you. But broad palms splay across your back, massaging and flexing into your skin as they roam your sides, your stomach, up your front to cup your breasts. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as he squeezes softly, palms warm and solid against the stiff peaks of your nipples.

“Fuck.” Joel’s nose buries itself in your hair, his forehead against the back of your head. Your legs shake, and you lean back into his chest, your body a soft and tremulous thing that would surely float away if he weren’t here to hold you up.  

His hands are on your breasts, sweet and tender and finally, and you wonder how long this wanting will feel like burning. Like nicks of flame that gloss over you and spit embers at anyone who dares to get too close—at him, sparking and sputtering as they collide in a spitfire symphony. This man who lives set ablaze in his own right. This man who welcomes your flame every time—swallows it whole, and lays kisses against the back of your neck with lips still warm.

Calloused fingers roll and circle your nipples, playing gently, listening for every gasp, every sigh, before diligently repeating whatever it was that called the sound forward. Your underwear is all but ruined, already damp and clinging to the slick skin between your thighs. And you can feel him against your lower back, albeit unmoving—not grinding against you, not pushing you down onto the bed, but waiting – for what, you can’t be sure.

You turn around faster than he can stop you. Hook fingers into the band of your panties and drag them down in a swift movement before straightening, holding his gaze all the while. And Joel—

He looks in pain. Dark eyes lock onto on your face and don’t stray. Don’t dip downward, don’t glance around the room. His hands hang by his sides, palms facing upward in a dejected fashion, jaw slack as he just—waits.

“Why won’t you look at me?” you whisper.

“You don’t….” he shakes his head. “If I look, I won’t be able to forget. And I—I can’t—”

There’s a flash of that memory again. Sweating in the dark bathroom of a bar in Portland. Joel wiping stained lipstick from your chin. The words I’m gonna remember this dripping from his swollen lips.

You take a step forward. Feel your nipples graze the soft material of his shirt. “And what if I don’t want you to forget?”

He says your name quietly, shoulders tense. But when you grip the hem of his shirt, he doesn’t stop you. Rather, he lifts his arms and lets you drag the fabric over his head. You marvel at the bare skin, eyes dancing across jutting collarbones and the soft swell of his stomach. Watch the way his chest rises and falls as stilted breaths flurry inside him before spilling into the air between you. Admire the trail of dark hair that rests between his bellybutton and the soft band of his underwear. His eyes don’t leave your face as you push the boxers down his legs.

“So handsome,” you say and Joel exhales, hands hovering a hairsbreadth from your waist. The weight of the moment hangs heavy between you. This moment of more. To be with him like this feels like more. To be naked feels like more.

You grip his hand and raise it to your breast again. Squeeze your fingers over his. His thumb flicks across your nipple and you gasp. His eyes darken, nostrils flaring as he fights to restrain himself.  

“Joel,” you whisper. “Look at me.”

Finally, he does. Those brown eyes flickering downward to rake in the sight of your body.

He’s on you in a second, mouth slanting desperately against yours while his hands drift aimlessly across skin, untethered in their access. Fingers pinching and grabbing and squeezing, teeth searing at your lips, and you gasp as his cock presses against your stomach. The long, thick weight of him, drooling and needy. Your fingers slip around him, rub softly over the underside of his head, the vein on the underside of him. Joel grips your wrist and pushes you backward a step, his lips leaving yours with a wet smack.

“Sit on the bed,” he orders firmly.

You wander backward, stumbling onto the edge of the bed when your calves collide with the heavy wooden base. He watches you, hand drifting to wrap around the base of his cock. He strokes himself gently, black eyes tracing vigilantly over every inch of your body. And you expect him to push you down, to crawl on top of you. Instead, you watch with bated breath as Joel drops to his knees in front of you. His knees crack as they bend but he ignores it, nudging your thighs apart so his broad frame can fit between them. Hooded eyes gaze between your thighs, roaming across all of the bare skin on show. Slowly, he lifts a hand and rests it gently on your mound. Calloused fingers stroke over the dark hair there, stroking through the short curls. You sigh and cant your hips up, but Joel only grunts, his free hand squeezing your thigh to hold you against the mattress.

Before you can process it, he’s leaning forward, nose nestling in your hair as his warm tongue parts your folds. You groan in unison, your fingers carding through his curls to hold him against you. He murmurs something that you don’t quite catch over the roaring in your ears, but you don’t care. Too caught up in a smooth slide of his mouth slotting against you. The flat of his tongue glides up and down your sex, smearing a mess of slick and saliva in his wake. You gasp as it flicks sharply across your clit, your jaw tensing at the harsh sensation. Joel notices—pulls back.

“Tell me,” he urges.    

“Slower,” you say quickly, voice feeble and desperate.

“Slower,” Joel repeats with a nod, and he massages your thighs as he licks into you, fingernails scraping your skin as his grip tightens and loosens and tightens and loosens. He traces slow circles around your clit with the flat of his tongue that have you gasping and bucking against his face. And when his tongue presses inside of you, you moan, fingers twisting in his hair and tugging.

“Fuck,” he growls into you, and he likes that. You do it again and his eyes flick open, pupils blown, gaze darting wildly across your stomach, your arms, your breasts, your face – watching, admiring, taking in every detail of the offering that you’ve laid so generously at his altar. The tip of a finger curls inside you and he grins when your thighs tense around him. He rears his head back to watch how you welcome him inside, eyes locked on the way your weeping cunt clenches and drips around one of his fingers, and then another.

“Yeah,” you sigh, nose scrunching at the slight stretch. “Yeah, like that, fuck.” 

“Look at you,” he mutters. “Christ.” And then the cut of his wet red mouth is back on you, lips parting to suck against your clit until you’re crying out, voice a hoarse shout as you speed rapidly towards your end.

“Shit, Joel,” you gasp. One of your legs kicks out straight and his hand drops from your thigh, one set of fingers working you open while the other comes up to part your lips, giving himself more access. As he lathes wet kisses against you, the coarse hairs of his beard scraping your inner thighs, you can feel it. That liquid heat that coils and stirs in the base of your stomach.

“Joel, I—ohh—I think I’m gonna come,” you whimper, hand shooting out to grip his shoulder. Your nails dig into the tense muscle there, using the leverage to rut your hips against his face.

He groans into your sex, fingers moving faster, unforgiving against that spongy spot deep inside that sets you alight. His teeth graze against your clit, the lightest brush, and your stomach is tensing, every muscle in your body locking up.

“Give it t’me,” he says gruffly. “That’s it, come on, baby.”

A choked gasp falls from your lips and then you’re coming, twitching against his face, pussy bearing down on thick fingers that stoke you through the high. Your hand leaves his shoulder to grip the back of his neck, holding his face against where you’re aching for him still. Joel moans, a low sound from deep in his chest, dragging his fingers away so he can drink down every heady drop of your orgasm.

Baby.

The word rings in your head, bouncing inside your skull, a fierce ricochet. Baby.

Trembling fingers feather across the cowlick at the crown of his head, twisting and petting soft wayward curls as his mouth pulls back, a wet drag across the skin of your hip. You catch a glimpse of his cock, heavy and throbbing between his thighs.

Joel’s teeth nip at the sensitive skin of your thigh, a sharp pinch that makes you flinch. Tired muscles tensing, face twisting up as he sucks and licks, hot tongue soothing over the stinging red mark. He breathes your name, mouthing the sound into your flesh once, twice.

“I’ve been tryna remember this,” he murmurs. “Only ever had it for a second.”

You whimper as he licks into you again, slowly. And you’re so sensitive, and maybe—maybe—it’s too much, too soon, but he doesn’t care. He grips your calf and tucks it over his shoulder. Holds it there in a vice grip.

“Wasn’t enough,” he says. Dark eyes look up and you’re rapt in them—bound and boneless simply from having those eyes on you you you nothing but you all he sees is you and he loves it, you can tell. Thrives on the way you melt beneath his rough fingertips, the wet drag of his tongue. “Remember that first day in my office?

Remember, remember, remember, how could you forget? I’m gonna remember this this this.

“Yes.” Your leg trembles against the side of face, the coarse hairs of his beard scratching your skin. The tip of his tongue lathes slow circles around your clit. A cruel, leisurely slip of flesh on flesh that has you gasping and twitching beneath his hands.

“I wanted this that day,” Joel rasps. “Needed it. But you were gone so soon, ‘n’ I couldn’t help myself.”

“What—oh fuck—” He flicks his tongue faster, hot swipes from side to side that have your thigh clamping down against the muscles in his neck. Your mind is a blur, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make sense of his words.

“Fucked my fist the second you left,” he growls. “My fingers in my mouth, the taste of you—Christ, couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Joel,” you gasp, impatient. “I—get up here. Please, just—”

Strong hands push you up, push you back, further onto the bed until your head hits the pillows. His hair is a wild fray around his head, knotted and mussed from your fingers raking through it.

“I don’t have anything,” he says.

“I don’t care,” you say.

His knees press onto the mattress on either side of you and his eyes glance down your chest before he grips your waist and he’s turning you. Your stomach meets the sheets and you move to arch your back, to tilt your hips up towards him, but a firm hand rests on the small of your back, and keeps you down.

“Like this,” you hear him say. “Trust me.”

His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel him there, knuckles brushing the flesh of your ass, spreading you apart so his cock can press inside. The pillow swallows your wet gasp, and your eyes pinch shut against the stretch as he sinks deeper and deeper. Every delicious inch splits you open wider, further, carving out that space that’s just for him, and it’s more. Your vision blurs and you clutch at the sheets, fingers tangling in linen as Joel’s breathy groans fill the air.

“God,” he grunts. “Always so fuckin’—tight.”

You cry out as he begins to move, pressing you further into the mattress. The stretch of him is so broad—so deep—it has hot tears pricking in your eyes. Your legs are straight, almost clamped together, leaving the smallest gap for him to break through. His chest melts against your back, sweet sweat sliding from skin to skin. And his stomach is soft against the base of your spine, but his teeth are sharp where they nip and smart against the skin of your shoulder, your neck. He sets a pace that has you biting down into the pillow to muffle your groans. It’s almost overbearing how good it feels, how he surrounds you. Flat against the mattress, there’s nowhere to hide from the pleasure, no way to twist or curl your body away from how good it feels. A choked moan is muffled by the pillow.

And then his fingers are in your hair, dragging your head up.

“What are you fuckin’ doin’?” he grunts. You gasp, eyebrows furrowed and mouth ajar as you take take take. He pulls your hair harder when you don’t respond, presses his chin against your shoulder, lips curling against the skin of your neck as he speaks. “Don’t do that, not here. No more hidin’, I wanna fuckin’ hear it.”

He grips your hips and drags you upward so you’re on your knees, bracing against your forearms, and then his hand snakes around the front of your body, fingers dragging between your thighs as he begins moving again.

“Oh fuck,” your eyes widen in surprise, jaw hanging slack as he rolls his finger in expert circles over your clit. “Fuck, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he gasps.

“Fuck,” you repeat, mewling every time one of his thrusts sends your face forward into the pillows. “Yes, oh god.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust of his hips. “That’s it, lemme hear it.”

“Joel,” you cry out, voice cracked and broken. “So good.”

“I know, baby,” he grunts. “I know.”

“You’re so—deep,” you gasp.

“I know,” he soothes.

“I missed this,” you babble, mouth moving faster than your mind. “Missed you.”

“Christ,” he spits, pulling you up until you’re leaning against his chest. His fingers are a blur against your clit, cock a fast wet shift in and out in and out.

You tilt your head back against his shoulder, mouth hanging open as you press your ass back into him.

“Missed me?” Joel says, and his cheek is warm against yours. Wet. Your face is wet. “Gonna show me how much?”

“Yes,” you moan. His free hand grips your breast, squeezing and pinching.

“Need to get my fuckin’ mouth on you,” he growls.

“No,” you beg. “Joel, don’t—fuuuck, fuck, don’t stop.”

“Wanted to,” his hips stutter against you, losing momentum for a second. “Jesus, wanted to take my fuckin’ time.” You snake a hand behind his head to grip his hair again, to press his face into your neck. His mouth latches onto your skin, spit mixing with sweat where his teeth and tongue trace your roaring pulse. Your thighs are trembling, knees weak and wobbling against the mattress as he pistons into you, unrelenting, unforgiving.

“I’m—” your eyes start to roll back. You can feel your back arch and twist against him, toes curling into the sheets. “Oh my God.”

He says your name in a panicked hiss and pulls out.

You gasp at the loss, eyes flying open in alarm. He moves your body, not wasting a second as he lowers you down onto your back presses inside again, hands gripping the underside of your knees, holding them against your chest. Practically bent in half, you tremble in his grasp, eyes blurred and wet as you sob his name.

“Lemme have it,” he goads you, voice a dull vibration against your chest. “Bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, yeah, just like that.”

And it feels like something splinters within you as heat floods your senses, vision whiting out until all you can see is the soft edges of his curls against your chest, the wet smear of his tongue over your nipple. All you can hear is the words he speaks against your skin.

I’m close, he warns, and you say yes, say please, say I want it, because you do.

“Where?” You call the shots.

And you say, Inside, say, I want it, because you do.

Because you want everything. Everything he has and whatever dark matter is left after that. And everything is a naked thought, a stark realisation, a frighteningly bare streak of madness that zips down your spine and melts in your belly, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with the enormity of it. Can feel your body squeezing and sucking and holding it holding it holding it and with black eyes, spheres of a night sky’s pitch, he stares at you. Unruly eyebrows pinched tight. Mouth slick and swollen and snarling, white teeth grit like prison bars, keeping everything contained inside himself, just out of your reach.  

“Fuck,” Joel spits, pleading, desperate. “Don’t—”

But his hips are bruising against yours and you relish in the ache. The jut of bone amidst the softness of his skin, a reminder of the coldness in him, the determination, the impatience. And you know that you can only have so much softness until there is stone. But you cannot understand don’t, you never have with him, so you grind upward. Meet him thrust for thrust, and shiver in delight as a tortured expression passes over his face. And when you come again he curses, broad palms bearing down on you, holding your frame into the mattress as he pushes you through it, prolonging that naked thought, that fearsome idea. You only hope that he cannot see how your own everything spills. How it cools and congeals around him with its palms spread open, longing to receive as much in return.

Joel comes with a shout, hips dragging backwards so his spend can spill across your stomach and the puffy lips of your sex. He grips his cock, milking himself for all he’s worth until wet ropes of his come are smeared across your thighs too. You gasp and writhe against the bed, trying in vain to keep your heavy eyelids open, not wanting to miss a second. The shine of your slick on his thighs and lower stomach is clear in the dim lighting, and you smile at the sight of it – your claim on him. Chest heaving, he follows your gaze, fingers swiping across his skin before sinking into his mouth. He groans around his fingers and you stomach lurches as he lowers his chest to the bed, mouth drifting between your splayed thighs.

You cup his jaw and hold him still.  

“I can’t,” you murmur, and your voice is cracked and broken. “S’too much.”

And he agrees, tracing the marks on the inside of your thighs with his mouth until your eyes drift closed.

Time passes slowly after that. You don’t open your eyes for a while. Too fucked out, too tired, too tender.

There’s a warm glide of something soft and wet over your stomach, your thighs, between your legs—Joel cleaning up his mess. You almost wish he wouldn’t.

“Sorry,” you mumble a few minutes later. “I’ll go in a second.” But your eyes are closed, and the sheets smell like him.

You feel the mattress dip beside you. Hear a soft click as he turns off the lamp, and darkness swells around you once more.

“S’okay,” he says, and his voice is so close, as if he were whispering against the shell of your ear, breathing the words into you. “Don’t have to go.”

And it makes sense not to go. To stay, to stay, to stay. To sink deeper into the hotel mattress, and let the sounds of his heavy exhales lull you further to sleep. He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t come any closer. But you can smell him. Can feel his warmth, a radiating sun that shines across the side of your body closest, and you sink deeper still.

You think of the katabasis - the hero’s journey spiralling down into the underworld. Of Orpheus seeking the safe return of Eurydice, his love lost too soon. Of Odysseus, guided by Circe to discover Teiresias on his quest for homecoming. Of Aeneid, venturing downward to meet his father and hear his true destiny. This descent into the afterlife, into the realm of the dead, wherein upon return our hero is irrevocably changed. But to stay, to stay, to stay. So warm it is here, you think, so lovely and warm to descend wholly into this wanting, this burning, this everything.   

“Is this a good idea?” you murmur, voice a drowsy call into the darkness. “For me to stay?”

Joel doesn’t respond.

tags: @lovely-ateez @nana90azevedo @stevie75 @evyiione @dameron-grant-spector @brittmb115 @ashhlsstuff @casa-boiardi @bbyanarchist @hopplessilse @joeldjarin @anoverwhelmingdin @bluevxnus @kelp-dreaming @prettyinpunk85 @spacelatinos4life @iluvurfather @mrsquill @sarap-77 @sunnywithachanceofjavi @alleyy-katt @zeida @mendessi @love-the-abyss @myrealmofchaos @a-roving-woman @punkshort @gracie7209 @whichwitchwanda @fellinfromthetop @bitchwitch1981 @suzmagine @@lmariephoto37 @harriedandharassed @cumberpegg @tonysttank @ourautumn86 @my-tearsricochet @shotgun-shelby @5oh5 @psychedelic-ink @what-is-your-wish @sugadolly @elissaaa @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul

thank you for reading! x

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

I am Sage's mother, better known as Nana. I adopted Sage after my son died when she was still a baby. She's been through six foster homes by then, but we loved her and she blossomed into a joyful, lively girl who made music and art.

Puberty began and COVID hit, and she was treated for depression and anxiety, at times very severe. Her teachers shared any concerns with me so her treatment could be adapted.

The transparency ended in August of 2021 when Sage started high school. She started a public high school and she told me that all the girls there were bi, trans, lesbian, emo and she wanted to wear boy's clothes and be emo. Because I saw it as just a phase, it was fine with me.

But at school, she told them something different: she was now a boy named Draco with male pronouns. Sage asked the school not to tell me, and they did not tell me even though I informed them of her mental health history and medication. If I had known, this would be a much different story.

She was terribly bullied. No one told me. But boys followed her, touched her, threatened violence and rape. Something happened in the boy's bathroom but for two days, the school told me nothing. They kept meeting with Sage alone and she became so distraught they called me to pick her up.

That evening, I found a hallpass labeled 'Draco' and Sage told me she was identifying as a boy, and that her counselor said she could use the boy's bathroom. She'd been jacked up against the wall by a group of boys. She was crying, terrified. I said just stay home, we'll figure it out. That was my last conversation with Sage for five months.

The night she ran, she thought, to a young friend she'd met online, she left a note saying she was scared of what would happen if she stayed. The sheriff, FBI, search dogs were called in. I dropped to my knees in prayer. Nine days later the FBI found her in Baltimore. My baby had been lured online, sex trafficked by DC then Maryland. She was locked in a room, drugged, gang raped and brutalized by countless men. It was night. The FBI told us to pick her up in Maryland the next morning.

We packed our cars with blankets and stuffed animals and arrived by 8 am, but we were told we couldn't see her, and were summoned before Judge Robert Kershaw late that afternoon. They didn't even tell Sage that we came for her. We finally entered the courtroom and Sage appears on a huge Zoom screen from a prison cell. She looks tiny and broken, and I cry out 'I love you Sage.' Sage responds 'I love you too, Nana.' But attorney Anisa Khan rebukes us. She is a 'he' and his name is 'Draco' not Sage. We were floored.

Khan accuses us of emotional and physical abuse, that we are misgendering her, even though we just learned she claims to be trans and we're willing to use any name and pronouns to bring her home. My husband was so tearful he kept forgetting the new pronouns, so the judge had the bailiff remove him from the courtroom. I was pleading for my child to be returned and treated for her unspeakable trauma. Judge Kershaw told me, if I use the word 'trauma' again, he would throw me out too.

For over two months, he withheld custody. He housed Sage in the male quarters of a children's home. Sage told me she was the only girl and repeatedly assaulted. She was given street drugs by the other kids and Khan told her she didn't care. She just wanted to win the case and all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. Khan tried to prove abuse, but we were eventually cleared by both states of all charges.

Sage later told me Khan had told her to lie that we hit her. Khan even had Sage's school counselors testify against us, though they barely knew Sage and they didn't know us at all. Khan told my precious child I didn't want her anymore. I found out Sage never received any of the letters I sent her.

Sage ran from the Children's Home and disappeared for months. They told me she might already be gone forever, but I couldn't give up and I finally found a tip on her social media that led the marshals to her in Texas. She had been drugged, raped, beaten and exploited. This time I was able to be with her for the traumatic rape exam, and to bring her home.

Back in Virginia, she entered the mental health facility that Judge Kershaw had ordered, as it would affirm her as a male. The therapist began pressuring her to have her healthy breasts removed. Sage was too scared to protest, but she asked me to secretly buy her girl's clothes because she wanted to be a girl, but keep them in the car. It took a kind lawyer, Josh Hetzler to secure her discharge.

After almost a year. Sage was finally home. Safe. Alive. Sage is receiving professional trauma care. The first trafficker has already been convicted. Sage has nightmares, panic attacks, rape-related medical issues, but there's hope. I tell her she's not broken she's just scarred. And part of that hope is that in courageously sharing her story, others will be saved.

Sage said she doesn't know who she was back then. She wasn't a boy, she just wanted to have friends. But her school, the judge, the attorney and the doctor were all blinded by their ideology. The consequences for Sage were unspeakable.

Please don't let ideology harm another child. Let parents do our jobs. We know our children best and we love them a million times more.

Thank you.

==

Jesus Christ. This girl was exploited by everybody, except for her parents, who were villainized for literally nothing. It's opposite world.

And the fact that everybody with authority prioritized stupid shit like pronouns and trying to coax her further down into a fake identity, even against her will, and other ideological bullshit over her actual wellbeing is disgraceful.

The judge and attorney need to be disbarred, the therapist stripped of their license, and everyone who conspired to separate Sage from her parents fired.

[jjks1ut]

Need Help?

pairing: nanami x reader

summary:with the upcoming test you have for biology your boyfriend has quite the sly way to help you study.

cw:explicit content, edging, cockwarming, pet names, sexual tension, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, praise, teasing

a/n:here I am with some more jjk content since I've been lacking in my posting for the past few months with school and all, hope this is a read you can all enjoy as always ;)

You still can’t believe how you ended up here, but there you were nestled on Nanami’s lap at his place with his cock right there at the walls of your clenching wet pussy. There you sat with all your clothes strewn into some pile on the floor while he sat there practically half clothed giving you that ever so smug look while you mercilessly begged for his pleasure barely able to move with the tight grip he held at your waist. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

You had just left your last class for the evening on a regular Friday night, it was the perfect time to be hanging out with friends and probably even get wasted at a club or two. But, with your most recent grade in biology dropping down to a 50% you grew a little concerned with the possibility of failing the next assessment that would be just the following Monday.

‘I advise you get yourself situated with a tutor.’,was your biology teacher's last words to you as she handed out the papers on your way to leave the lecture hall.

“What an asshole”, you thought to yourself as you made your way from the train station as you texted your boyfriend furiously about your frustration with the professor’s attitude.

 ‘Omg Kento I can’t believe my professor and her damn attitude, I know I need a tutor with my grade and all but she doesn’t have to be in my ass about it :(‘.  You texted him and like always you could already see he had read the message and was ready to respond in a matter of seconds.

‘Your grade? Are you failing a class?’, he had texted you, and you could already feel the overbearing concern from his side.

It had been known from the start of your relationship but your boyfriend Kento Nanami was a nerd, almost like the ones in movies. Constantly studying, always in the library, and you could never catch this man with a late assignment. Even if he was practically on his deathbed he would make sure he turned in that one history essay. 

And funny enough the way you two first met had been through him as your tutor in the first place when through enough sessions together you found yourselves in a heated make our session somewhere buried in the back shelves of the college’s library.

‘It’s nothing, it's just a simple 50%. The semester only started so by my next exam I should be able to fix it’, you texted back trying to make excuses for your poor scores, but you knew Kento wasn’t there for that bull where you would constantly procrastinate. 

As a new message flew into your inbox.

‘Cancel any plans you have, you're coming over to my place later to study’, he had texted back. 

‘Take a nap or whatever you need to do, I want you over before 7’, Nanami added as well. It was a strange request that even made you a little frustrated at how he was trying to order you around. 

Even so, you always enjoyed a good time at your boyfriend’s place. And, who knows, probably you’ll get something out of it by the end of the night ;).

So there you were just having woken up from a nap an hour prior as you began to get yourself ready. Luckily, you didn’t mind coming over either as you two lived just a block or two away as in just a matter of minutes you were already in front of his door ringing his bell.

“Hey”, he gave you a soft smile before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in for a soft kiss on the cheek. 

He may have been strict when it came to work and how he felt about grades but he wasn’t an asshole. He cared about you to the fullest extent he could at the end of the day

So As Kento was helping you with your jacket, put it in some closet nearby you could see he was clearly serious about studying. There across his coffee table in his living room was filled with worksheets, and even some books on the subject of biology. “Oh you meant actual studying?”, you whispered under your breath not even realizing he heard you. 

“What did you think we were doing?”. He questioned taking a quick look over his shoulder as he was bringing you two drinks back over to the coffee table as he made himself comfortable next to you.

“No nothing Nanami”, you laughed softly which coaxed a small smile as well from his previously stern expression. “Well, have some liquids in your system I know we’re gonna be doing a lot of talking”, he jokes back as he hands you your drink. 

“Oh shut up”, you teased back but taking the beverage even so.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“Nanamiii, can we go on break.”, you whined to him as you dropped your pencil on the coffee table sitting back to give Nanami your best puppy dog eyes. You were sitting beside him on the couch only an hour and a few minutes into the study sesh yet already on your 10th break. But come on it wasn’t your fault when your hot ass boyfriend was right beside you watching you keenly as you worked. Like how the fuck were you supposed to focus when all that fogged your mind was thoughts of him.

From the way his well manicured yet veiny hands ran over your workbook reading over your work. The way he would constantly reassure you as his fingers ran long and languid movements along your spine bringing an ache to your core.

All these actions left you with nothing but scenarios of him fucking you from behind right there on that couch, kissing down your neck as his hands ran along your thighs, anything would make you calmer if it wasn’t for how handsome Nanami was even minding his own business.

“Are you listening?”, he called out as his palm was over your thigh, pinching it softly to catch your attention. You could see on his face he was slightly worried but a bit of annoyance lied in his face as well.  “It’s only been an hour since we started and at least 80% was spent on these breaks”, he frowned.

It killed you to see Nanami this way  when the last thing you wanted to do was piss him off. “I'm sorry it’s just I can’t focus alright? From the worksheets to the flashcards, do you have any other methods?” You spoke up as you watched a small grin form on his face and even a suspicious bulge peeking from the zipper at his pants.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

So there it finally was as Nanami’s cock was buried deep within the brim of your walls. “So remind me what the calvin cycle is, hm?”Nanami whispered low as his finger took a casual flick at your aching clit that was begging for his touch as he continued to edge you even so.

“N- Namai?, please you know I-,” you whimper. This had been going on for a third of an hour or so. Nanami would ask you a question from your study sheet he had set up for you  and you would answer. simple, right?

And without you even being able to finish your sentence another firm slap landed on your bare ass as he had slipped off your pants from earlier. 

“Wrong”, he spoke cockily. You knew your boyfriend was more experienced then he put on, as even during your first time together you never expected all that he had done that night. But what was happening here was nothing compared to the original Nanami you saw in this bedroom. Usually he was such a caring lover as he catered to all your possible needs during your passionate nights. 

Now a contrast was brought as Nanami was showing pure dominance not taking any of your whiny pleads as he brought another snap that you had mewling his name like a bitch in heat.

“Don’t act like you don’t like this, either way you better prepare yourself because until you can remember this entire sheet we’re gonna keep at this” he continued on forcing you to look right at him as if tears weren’t rolling right off your pretty little eyes. With his words you nodded as he gladly wiped your tears with a small comforting smile, “Good girl”.

“So tell me what's binary fission?”, he now asked as you tried your best even in your fuzzy thoughts brimmed with the feeling of Nanami’s member throbbing from inside you. “Um, does it have to do with things with a single cell”, you huffed out as you could already feel the way your legs shaked and quivered as you tried to hold yourself up with the firm grip he held at your waist, and you could already feel your eyelids grow heavy just the same.

Yet Nanami notices quickly moves his hands to your hips and pushes you up, so that you're around halfway down on his cock. you let out a small shudder, and you can tell your almost there just is not correct yet. “And, what else”, he spoke as he pulled your face in close with a firm grip on your scalp.

“Reproducing”, you answer immediately and almost just as fast you're rewarded. Nanami allows you to ride him again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your boyfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. And the entire time you watch as he eyes your eager appearance as he pulls you in from that pull he had on the back of your head for a sloppy and heeded kiss.

“Nanami~, I want more-”, you whimpered as you grinded up against him eagerly but the moment was quickly stopped as he grabbed at your hips again and brought a slap down on your ass once more. “Fuck-, just answer the next question and we can finish for tonight”, he groaned close to letting you keep up with your grind on his cock. 

Nanami knew this was supposed to be a sort of punishment for your lack of focus but your pretty face ever so ruined by the smear of your runny makeup, your perfect bare body out in the open for him to use as he pleased, at this point fuck the work he wanted you right over this coffee table fuckong your brains out. 

“Tell me what a cell is.”, he asked, simply giving you a confused look. “But, Nanami, that's not on the-”. Quietly your words are shut down with another smack as you whimper at the slam against your rear.

“Just answer the fuckin question”, he practically begged you, so once you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of the answer Nanami can’t even care if its right.

From there you’re bent over the coffee table as your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out your dumbfounded words of pleasure.

:)

“We should study like this more often”, he chuckles as you curled up against his chest as you were watching some stupid movie on the tv in front of you two. 

“I bet you remember way more now.” 

[elodieunderglass]

Hi! I was wondering if you could help me out with a word I've forgotten? I'm trying to remember the name for a concept that (I think) talks about how people better understand or process Things once they have vocabulary to describe it - I've heard it talked about in regards to the colour orange, or coercive control, etc.

long story short i've just read a paper saying ancient Greeks and Romans weren't racist bc they had no word for racism and am trying to form an argument against!

(no worries if this is unanswerable, i'm aware its a bit of a long shot but you struck me as a person who Knows Things)

That’s extremely kind and funny of you. i don’t know much but i am ok at synthesis.

I think you might be thinking of the concepts loosely called the “Sapir-Whorf hypothesis”, which describes something called “linguistic determinism.” This idea has been “disproven”, as it is just too reductionist as a concept - people are clearly perfectly capable of having experiences that are tough to describe with words. There will be plenty of papers showing how this reasoning is applied.

but it is still commonly thrown around and still considered a useful teaching framework. That’s why you’ll see it referenced online as if it is fresh, new, and applicable - people learn about it every year in college. Also, elements of the framework are probably perfectly sound. It definitely seems to be the case that language shapes brains; it just doesn’t seem to be the case that humans who don’t have specific words for them can’t experience orange, or the future.

(Many things in college are taught using teaching frameworks that may not be, technically, true; the framework is intended to give a critical structure for interpreting information. Then, when we later find evidence that disproves the hypothesis, that single piece of information doesn’t destroy our expensive college education; what we paid for is the framework. This is mostly frustrating in the sciences, when fresh crops of undergraduate students crash around on social media, grappling with their first exposure to (complex concept) and how it’s DIFFERENT to what they learned BEFORE and their teachers LIED TO EVERYBODY and they’re going to save the world from POP SCIENCE by telling the TRUTH. You’ll notice that these TOTALLY NEW INFORMATION reveals map along the semester schedule. The thing here is that getting new information, or information being different from what you were previously told, does not cancel out the fact that you are getting what you pay for - an education. Learning new facts that change our relationships to hypotheses isn’t a ✨huge betrayal ✨ , but the expected process of academia. Anyway.)

You have an interesting response here, and can start by looking at the ways that Sapir-Whorf has been disproved. There will be loads of literature on that.

However, it would be interesting to look at the argument as an unpicking of the other side’s rather weird, ritualistic superstitious belief that a behavior doesn’t exist if the creatures doing it can’t describe it. It is not on the ancient Greeks and Romans to categorise and interpret their behavior for a modern educated audience. They do not have the wherewithal to do so. They are also fucking dead. We can name the behaviors we see, and describe their impacts, however the hell we like.

Sure, the ancient Greeks used “cancer” to refer to lumpy veiny tumors. We can infer that they still had blood cancer, because their medical texts describe leukaemia and their corpses have evidence of it - they just didn’t know it was cancer. But we do, so we can call it cancer. Just because Homer said “the wine-dark sea” in a flight of girlish whimsy doesn’t mean he was unable to distinguish grape juice from saltwater, which we know, because we can observe that he was an intelligent wordsmith perfectly capable of talking about wine and oceans in other contexts. We are the people who get to stand at our point of history with our words, and name things like “this person probably died of leukaemia” and “poets say things that aren’t necessarily literal” and “this behaviour was racist” and “that’s gay” and “togas kinda slay tho” despite Ancient Greeks having different concepts of cancer, wittiness, prejudice, homosexuality, and slaying than we do today.

Now just to caveat that people do get muddled about the concept of racism. Our understanding of racism from here - this point of history, with these words, probably from the West - is heavily influenced by how we see racism around us today: white supremacy and the construct of “whiteness,” European colonial expansion, transatlantic chattel slavery, orientalism, evangelism, 20th century racial science, and so on. This is the picture of racism that really dominates our current discourse, so people often mistake it for the definition of racism. (Perhaps in a linguistic-deterministic sort of way after all.) As a result, muddled-up people often say things like “I can’t be racist because I’m not a white American who throws slurs at black American people,” while being an Indian person in the UK who votes for vile anti-immigration practices, or a Polish person with a horrible attitude about the Roma. Many people genuinely hold this very kindergarten idea of racism; if your opponent does as well, they’re probably thinking something like “Ancient Greek and Roman people didn’t have a concept of white supremacy, because whiteness hadn’t been invented yet, so how could they be racist?” And that’s unsound reasoning in a separate sense.

Racism as the practice of prejudice against an ethnicity, particularly one that is a minority, is a power differential that is perfectly observable in ancient cultures. The beliefs and behaviors will be preserved in written plays, recorded slurs, beauty standards, reactions to foreign marriages, and travel writing. The impacts will be documented in political records, trade agreements, the layouts of historical districts of ancient towns.

You don’t need permission to point out behaviours and impacts. You can point them out in any words you like. You can make up entirely new words to bully the ancient romans with. You are the one at this point of history and your words are the ones that get used.

Pretending that “words” are some kind of an intellect-obscuring magical cloud in the face of actual evidence is just a piece of sophistry (derogatory) on the part of your opponent here. It’s meant to be a distraction. You can dismiss this very flimsy shield pretty quickly and get them in the soft meat of them never reading anything about the actual material topic, while they’re still looking up dictionary definitions or whatever.

[jokeroutsubs]

Joker Out Masterpost for new fans

New fan of Joker Out? Say no more! 

Getting to know a new artist you’ve found can be intimidating if it’s all in another language, so we’ve compiled some of our favourite interviews, articles and lore here! You’ve arrived in a wonderful fanbase, welcome from all of us here at JokerOutSubs! 

If you’d just like a short overview of the band and their history, you can watch this excellent Finnish summary of them that we’ve translated (14m 53s).

But if you want to dive into the details, then check out our timeline, full of videos and articles translated by JokerOutSubs! 

Timeline graphic:

Timeline in details below the cut 👇

Timeline in details: 

How did the band form? 

Joker Out was formed from two bands, Apokalipsa and Buržuazija. 

Apokalipsa included Bojan Cvjetićanin (vocals), Martin Jurkovič (bass) and Matic Kovačič (drums) 

They gained some traction with young people around Slovenia, particularly with their song 'Mogoče' ('Maybe'), which you can watch on YouTube here.

They came to the attention of Kris Guštin, who was inspired to start learning guitar! He discusses the details in this video (at 9:40). 

Kris then met Jan Peteh, another student of his guitar teacher, and at their teachers advice, they formed the band Buržuazija. 

Bojan attended their second ever gig in 2016, and decided these two excellent guitarists were exactly what had been missing from Apokalipsa, as he wasn’t happy with their current guitarists. He asked them to join, and they accepted

The new lineup (Bojan, Jan, Kris, Martin and Matic) decided to rename themselves Joker Out. The name means nothing, but they thought it sounded good and was the ‘least horrible’ of all the ideas they could think of. 

So, in 2016, Joker Out was officially formed! 

November 2016, Kot srce ki kri poganja: 

Joker Out’s first music video was for their song ‘Kot srce ki kri poganja’ ('Like a heart that pumps blood'), filmed in Jan’s hometown of Vrhnika! We eventually got this song on Spotify on their 2023 album Live from Arena Stožice!

Music video: Kot srce ki kri poganja

English Interview (from 3:37 to 6:05): Joker Out discusses filming the music video

June 2017, Špil Liga:

One of the earliest performances for Joker Out was at Špil Liga, a competition for young bands in Slovenia. They won, and recorded their winning song, Omamljeno telo (intoxicated body) in November as part of the prize. 

Live (33m): Joker Out at Špil liga

Interview (5m): Reflections on Špil Liga in 2023 

c.2017/18, Bojan’s attempt at going solo:

The band took a hiatus c.2017/18, and Bojan considered going solo at that time, even working with a few producers. He eventually realised that he belonged with the band! Hear him tell the story:

Reel (1m 23s): A1 Vajb - Bojan’s fail

2019, A change up for the band:

The band began working with their current producer, Žare Pak, and their videographer Mark Pirc, in 2019 - both of whom have been referred to as the sixth member of the band. This led to a change in their sound and production quality, which culminated in ‘Gola’ ('Naked'), the first of their songs to be a big hit!

Music video: Gola

Zlata piščal ('Golden Flute') - Best New Artist 2019:

Joker Out won their first Zlata piščal award in 2019, for best new artist (one of many they’d go on to win!) This is a kind of Slovenian Grammy! Covid interrupted the proceedings, but you can see their interview for it here (3m 59s)- 

Interview: Joker Out wins a Zlata piščal ('Golden Flute') for Best New Artist 2019

Umazane misli, and a new member: 

During the Covid times, the band began recording their first studio album, 'Umazane misli' ('Dirty thoughts'), which was originally going to be released in March 2020 but was repeatedly delayed until October 2021. The first half was recorded with drummer Matic Kovačič, but the band felt they needed something extra and brought in Jure Maček to help write the arrangements. They loved him so much, he never left! 

Interview (from 10:40 to 11:36): Bojan talks briefly about Jure joining the band

COVID times, and Cvetličarna: 

The band had arranged to do two concerts at Cvetličarna, a very important venue in Slovenia and a big break for them. This was delayed several times due to Covid, but eventually managed to go ahead in October 2021 for the release of their first album. 

Video (1m 14s): Cvetličarna promotional video

Live (1h 28m): Joker Out at Cvetličarna

Interview (34m 55s): Bojan discusses Cvetličarna, its importance, and Covid

Umazane misli album launch: 

'Umazane misli' was extremely well received! The band would go on to win two more Zlata piščal awards, Newcomers of the Year in 2020 and Artist of the Year in 2021.

Interview (37m 08s): Umazane misli album presentation

An acting career for Bojan? 

Around the same time as 'Umazane misli' was released, Bojan began considering an acting career. He acted in two episodes of the series ‘Gospod Professor’ and in another series, which was eventually reworked as a film called ‘Kaj pa Ester’ and released in December 2023. He decided music was his passion though, and he wanted to fully focus on that. 

Interview (from 10:04 to 11:30): Bojan discusses his acting career

Interview (2m 11s): Kaj pa Ester interview

Interview (2m 30s): Kaj pa Ester première

Article: Bojan on Kaj pa Ester

September 2022, Križanke:

The band got straight to work writing their second album, 'Demoni' ('Demons'), and decided to present it in September 2022 at Križanke, another hugely important venue in Slovenia. This whole concert wasn’t recorded, but we have an interesting advertisement they did for it, an interview and a clip of one song live from Križanke! 

Video (5m 4s): Full Joker Out Hotline trailers

Interview (2m 16s): Joker Out with parachutes to Križanke?

Live (4m 7s): 'Novi val' ('New wave') live at Križanke

Interview (44m 35s): Demoni album presentation

Another new member! 

After Križanke at the end of 2022, Martin Jurkovič, one of the founding members of the band, made the decision to leave to focus on his studies.

Video (2m 20s): Martin's departure

Thankfully, he was replaced by the wonderful Nace Jordan, who remains the bassist in the current lineup.

Article: Nace Jordan discusses joining the band

2023, Eurovision:

Joker Out were then internally selected to go to Eurovision 2023, and began recording their Eurovision song, 'Carpe Diem', in Hamburg in December 2022. To learn more, you can watch the Carpe Diem series, a documentary series which followed their entire journey. 

The first episode, recording Carpe Diem, can be found with subtitles in multiple languages by JokerOutSubs!

Video (16m 41s): Carpe Diem Ep. 1 - Hamburg

The band performed their song for the first time live on Misija Liverpool, a televised debut, on the 4th February 2023.

Video (27m): Joker Out performing at Misija Liverpool

There are quite literally hundreds of interviews with Joker Out during the Eurovision era. Here's one from just before the final, that we have translated.

Interview: Joker Out before the final on the 13th May

And a few English interviews that became famous in the fanbase! 

Interview (24m 29s): Eurovanja

Interview (8m 10s): Seize the Day situations

Interview (17m 18s): Tiktok Live

Interview (6m 30s): ‘Never have I ever’

Interview (14m 12s): Madrid Eurovision

Result

Joker Out came 21st at Eurovision, which they were satisfied with.

Interview (1m 36s): Bojan talks about their results

European tour and Sunny Side of London (22nd September)

Luckily, the best was still to come for Joker Out! The rest of 2023 was spent on an extremely successful European tour, and they also released their first English single, 'Sunny Side of London', in September. 

We at JokerOutSubs were also thrilled to interview the band twice on their tour!

Original Interview (15m 25s): JokerOutSubs interview in Tampere

Original Interview (14m 37s): JokerOutSubs interview in Poznań

6th of October 2023, Stožice:

All of this, however, was building up to Stožice. This is the biggest closed venue in Slovenia and Joker Out managed to sell out their October show there - an extremely important milestone for Slovenian artists. 

Interview (15m 4s): Stožice and their whirlwind post Eurovision career

Live: Full concert live-streamed part 1 and part 2

A lovely moment at Stožice was when former members Martin Jurkovič and Matic Kovačič joined the band onstage to perform 'Kot srce ki kri poganja'!

Interview (2m 4s): Martin and Matic discuss the experience

Interview (5m 9s): Joker Out post Stožice impressions

London era and Everybody’s Waiting: 

Joker Out spent the beginning of 2024 in London, where they wrote new music, did live cooking shows on Instagram and met the incredibly talented photographer, Damon Baker, who did a beautiful series of photoshoots with them. They also released their next English single, 'Everybody’s Waiting', in February. 

They sat down with us at JokerOutSubs to discuss all this on the 20th February!

Original Interview (59m 13s): JokerOutSubs interview in London

March and April 2024, ‘See you soon’ tour:

The boys then embarked on the ‘See you Soon’ tour, another very successful European tour. They played three new songs live during the tour, two of which we translated from the concert videos of our members!

Live:  First performance of 'Bluza' ('Blouse')

Live: First performance of the hugely popular 'Šta bih ja' ('What would I')

We at JokerOutSubs also interviewed the band a fourth time in Padova!

Original Interview (22m 7s): JokerOutSubs interview in Padova

Now you know a little bit about Joker Out’s history, let’s look a little bit at the members of the band as individuals! 

Who are the members?

Bojan Cvjetićanin - singer

Charming, charismatic and an all round green flag, deep down we’re all Bojan girlies! See him here on Cosmopolitan's Blind date, Portrait with Coffee and a lovely interview he did for Delo! 

Interview (8m 49s): Cosmopolitan's Blind date

Interview (18m 3s): Portrait with Coffee

Article: “If we believed that we were “kings”, that wouldn’t be us”

Jan Peteh - guitarist

The mysterious mathematician of the band, Jan and his cat Igor have stolen the hearts of the fanbase. Here he is on Undercover Mathematician and on Metropolitan podcast with ex bassist Martin! 

Interview (3m 26s): Undercover mathematician

Interview (43m 57s): Jan and Martin on Metropolitan podcast

Kris Guštin - guitarist

Known for his organisational expertise, 'slay pose' and 'cake baking skills,' Kris stays fabulous on and off stage!

Video (1m 5s): NGVOT backstory (Kris’ breakup) at Cvetličarna

Article: Interview with the entire Guštin family

Jure Maček - drummer

Described consistently by his band mates as ‘čaga’ (party), Jure brings a chaotic energy to Joker Out that we love to see!

Video (41s): Jure’s cheating (in school!) story

Interview (18m 3s): Sunday Chat on Radio 94

Nace Jordan - bassist

The oldest member of Joker Out, Nace is a genuine sweetheart who fit like a glove into Joker Out despite joining much later! 

Article: "Enriched by a special [Eurovision] experience"

Interview (18m 24s): Interview with JokerOutSubs in Umag

Get to know the whole band! 

They mostly do interviews together, so here are some of our favourites!

Interview (16m 52s): Vičstock Unplugged

Video (7m 3s): Joker Out pre-Križanke Instagram Q&A compilation

Interview (54m 42s): Multisciplinary panel at Bežigrad High School

Article: Joker Out for DELO

Article: Joker Out for Mladina magazine

Interview (6m 42s): Joker Out for RTV SLO

Interview (1h 1m): Joker Out for N1 podkast

We hope you’ve enjoyed learning a bit more about our favourite band! 

If you’d like even MORE translated interviews, articles and Instagram stories, you can find us on Tumblr, X, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube and Spotify under the name JokerOutSubs!

P.S: If you wish to share this post with new fans, we also provided QR codes!

[bitchiswild]

Secret Spouses

Jang Wonyoung x F! reader

Warnings: Non, Fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n:Another wonyoung fluff!

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"Miss Y/Ln! You won't believe what Miss Jang just said!" The door burst open, and one of my students came charging in, clearly bursting with news from our neighboring teacher.

"Oh boy, what's she up to now?" I chuckled, already bracing myself for another round of Miss Jang's antics. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

"She's all about getting a golden retriever, just like you!" The student blurted out, barely containing their excitement.

My eyes widened in disbelief. Without a second thought, I hopped up and made a beeline for the door. Facing Miss Jang's room right across the hall, I couldn't resist the opportunity.

"Hey, Wonyoung! Quit copying me! I've been wanting a golden retriever way longer than you!" I yelled, shaking my fist in mock protest.

"Ha! You wish! I've had that idea way before you, Y/n!" Miss Jang shot back, crossing her arms in playful defiance.

Our students were eating this up. Our back-and-forth had become a daily spectacle, like a mini comedy show for them. They'd giggle and watch as we playfully argued, knowing it was all in good fun.

"No, I'm sick and tired of you copying me, so stop it," I grumbled, frustration evident as I shut the door firmly. Turning to my students, I exaggeratedly sighed, "Goodness gracious, this lady is making me lose my mind!" Their laughter filled the room, lightening the tension.

Resuming my seat at the desk, I focused on preparing for the upcoming lesson. But before I could get too engrossed, my door swung open abruptly, revealing Wonyoung standing there, her eyebrow raised in a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

"I do not appreciate you slamming the door in my face," she said, arms folded, clearly miffed.

"I didn't slam the door in your face. You were in your classroom. Slamming the door in your face would mean you were where my door is," I retorted, a hint of exasperation in my voice, accompanied by an eye roll.

"Potato, potahto," she replied, her tone nonchalant.

"Go teach your class, Wonyoung," I said, a note of dismissal in my voice, accompanied by a disapproving click of my tongue.

"Fine, but this isn't over," she huffed, shooting me a pointed look, and then briskly walked back to her classroom, leaving a lingering sense of playful tension in the air.

"You and Miss Jang are perfect for each other," one of my students giggled, setting off a chain reaction of laughter among the others.

"I mean, they do say opposites attract," chimed in another student, adding to the playful banter.

Before I knew it, the entire class was caught up in a frenzy of creating a ship name and discussing the imaginary relationship between Miss Jang and me. Their excitement filled the room with chatter and giggles.

"Class, settle down, please," I interjected, trying to regain their attention amid the buzz of gossip. I couldn't help but chuckle at their antics. "Stop shipping us together. She's sooo annoying," I playfully rolled my eyes, hoping to steer the conversation back to the lesson.

"Just saying, Miss Y/Ln, you two would be soooo cute together," another one of my students teased, a mischievous glint in their eye.

"I'll leave that to your vivid imaginations," I replied with a playful grin, hoping to redirect their attention. "Okay, today we're diving into world history."

As the class came to an end, I swung the door open and found Wonyoung doing the same, her students trailing behind her. We shared a knowing wink, a silent acknowledgment of the ongoing friendly rivalry.

"Hey kids, how was class? Isn't Miss Y/Ln super boring?" Wonyoung playfully teased, pretending to snore, earning a few giggles from her students.

"Hey! You're the boring one! You teach math! Who likes math?" I retorted with a mock scowl, eliciting a chorus of "Yeah!" and nods of agreement from my own students.

Our banter continued, the age-old debate between subjects sparking a playful exchange between us, much to the amusement of our respective classes.

"Math is fun! I don't know what you're talking about," Wonyoung declared, sticking her tongue out at me with a playful smirk.

My jaw dropped in mock astonishment. "Do not stick your tongue out at me! Are you a child?" I feigned offense, raising an eyebrow in playful exaggeration.

Wonyoung's response was a soft murmur and averted gaze. "No," she murmured, suppressing a smile.

Laughter erupted from the students around us. "She got you, Miss Jang!" one of the students teased, reveling in the light-hearted banter between the teachers.

"Alright, kids, go grab some lunch. I'll catch you around campus, and remember, if you need anything, my door's always open for you," I said, bidding my students farewell with a warm smile.

"Same goes for me too, kids!" Wonyoung chimed in after me, a playful sparkle in her eyes as she glanced teasingly in my direction, maintaining the playful rivalry without betraying our secret.

Wonyoung and I shared a hidden secret—behind the playful banter, we were actually married. Our students were completely unaware, thinking our ongoing rivalry was all in good fun. It added a layer of amusement to our daily interactions, knowing that our private life was our own little secret, tucked away from their curious eyes.

As the last of our students left the room, Wonyoung and I exchanged affectionate glances. She walked over to me, gently guiding me into my empty classroom before shutting the door. Pulling me into a warm embrace, she planted a soft kiss on my lips.

"How's your day been, love?" she whispered softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, her eyes filled with tenderness.

"It's been wonderful. The kids have quite the imagination; they ship us together," I chuckled, feeling the warmth of our shared secret. "And yours? How's your day been?"

"They have good taste, pairing the right people together and my day has been going well," Wonyoung chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes.

"The day we reveal the truth to them, their minds will be blown," I replied with a chuckle, relishing in the shared secrecy of our relationship, hidden behind the façade of our playful rivalry.

"Well, I better go before we blow our cover. I love you," Wonyoung said, giving me another tender peck before heading off.

"I love you too," I replied, watching her walk to her classroom, where she settled in to eat her lunch. I followed suit, taking out my own lunch and reflecting on the hidden joy of our shared secret.

"Miss Y/Ln! We've finally decided on your and Miss Jang's ship name!" A group of my students burst in with palpable excitement. I stared at them in disbelief. "Wait, you guys still ship me with Miss Jang even after all our banter?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, like we said before, opposites attract!" they chimed in, their enthusiasm unwavering. A chorus of agreement came from the other students, nodding in agreement with their friends.

"Alright, hit me with the name," I sighed, giving in to their excitement.

"(Potential ship name), how about that? It's perfect!" They squealed with delight at their chosen name.

I chuckled in amusement. "That's quite something. Make sure to tell Miss Jang about it; she'd probably get a kick out of this!"

"Okay, let's go now before lunch is over!" They dashed off excitedly toward Miss Jang's room. As they hurried away, I noticed a few pairs of eyes glancing at me, widening with surprise before breaking into laughter at the students' enthusiastic antics with the ship name.

As lunchtime came to an end, the rumor mill had spun our ship name throughout the school. Middle school students, known for their liveliness, were quick to create pairings. In both my 5th-period class and Miss Jang's, conversations buzzed about how Wonyoung and I would make a cute couple.

Even a week later, the chatter persisted. Wonyoung and I decided to reveal the truth during an assembly dedicated to us, with the principal in on the plan. Standing side by side with microphones in hand, we prepared to disclose our secret.

"Hi, everyone. As you've been shipping us together, calling us a cute couple, and believing that 'opposites attract,' we—" I began, but Wonyoung interjected excitedly, "We're actually married, everyone!" She chuckled, playfully stealing the thunder.

Amidst the commotion, the students reacted intensely—some screamed in shock, while others shed tears, claiming that their "parents" were together, whatever that meant.

"Yes, Miss Jang and I are together. Here are our wedding photos if you're suspicious, but you guys are right; we do make a cute couple," I teased the students, reveling in their surprised and joyful reactions. They cheered, as if discovering our marriage was a dream come true.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! The students started to chant, their enthusiasm contagious. Wonyoung and I chuckled, feeling a bit bashful, but we couldn't resist fulfilling their request. As we kissed, Wonyoung playfully exaggerated, dipping me dramatically, and the kids erupted in cheer. We pulled away, laughing at their playful antics.

Then, Wonyoung grabbed the mic once more, excitement evident in her voice. "Guess what! We have an announcement to make. We're going to be parents!" Her announcement sent a wave of excitement through the students, and they erupted into another round of cheering.

Amidst the joyous chaos, we couldn't help but share in the infectious energy of our students. Being teachers brought us immense joy, and moments like these made it all worthwhile.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[thesapphictimelady]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Word Count: 2.6K

TW: Implied previous domestic abuse, references to alcohol

A/N: Been working on this for like 2 months lol. Not proofread at all, but I had fun with it. Comments are appreciated :) Hope you enjoy!

“Hi, I’m looking for principal Coleman?”

The red head leaning against the desk turned, “Yeah, she’s not here today.”

“That can’t be right. I’m supposed to be meeting with her today. It is Thursday, right? I know my head isn’t always screwed on right but I was sure it’s Thursday.”

“Yeah, it is. Wait, are you the one with the dumb name?”

“E-excuse me?”

The red head tossed her hair, “Ava told me there was someone coming in with a stupid name and I should welcome her and “show her the ropes” and that she’d be helping in my classroom.”

“My name’s Cassiopeia,” she said, shuffling her things around to shake the older woman’s hand.

The older woman scoffed, ignoring her hand, “The hell kind of name is that? Nah, I’m calling you Cassie. And that’s how you should introduce yourself. The kids’ll end up calling you Pee or something. Come on, I’ll take you to the break room.”

“I don’t think I caught your name,” Cassie said, trying to keep up with her long strides.

“Yeah, that’s cause I didn’t give it to ya,” she swung open the door to the break room, “I found fresh meat looking for Ava,”

“Melissa Ann Schemmenti, you know we don’t speak about our colleagues like that!”

Melissa shrugged and took a seat next to the other teacher, “Sorry Barb, just callin’ it like I see it,”

Barb swatted Melissa’s arm and turned to face Cassiopeia, “It’s nice to meet you dear, I’m Barbara Howard, I teach Kindergarten”

“My name’s Cassiopeia. It’s nice to meet you.”

Melissa groaned and pointed at the young woman, “Didn’t I say to introduce yourself as Cassie? I wasn’t kiddin’.”

“Jacob Hill!” another teacher blurted from by the fridge, “I’m Jacob Hill. I teach history. I like your name. Cassiopeia, She was the queen of Ethiopia according to Greek Mythology. Her daughter Andromeda was saved from a sea monster by the hero Perseus. Did you know-”

“Jacob that’s enough,” Barbara said, gesturing towards a chair for Cassiopeia, “I’m sure she knows the history of her own name.”

Cassie sat and smiled gratefully at Barbara before she reached into her bag to retrieve her notebook and a pair of earbuds, deciding it was best to just sit quietly until the kids arrived.

“Pineapple absolutely goes on pizza,” Jacob said, picking up the conversation they had been having before her arrival.

“Not this again,” Melissa groaned, “It does not go on pizza!”

“It does! It’s been put on pizza since 1962! Contrary to the term that’s frequently used, it actually isn’t from Hawaii though. It was created in Ontario, Canada. The man who made it was actually Greek and-“

“Hey, new kid,” Melissa interrupted, “What kind of pizza do you like”

“I actually haven’t had pizza in a long time,” Cassie said, pulling her earbuds out.

“Oh don’t tell me you don’t like pizza!”

“No, I do! My…my ex used to make homemade pizza for date night. She was not a good person. Which is why I’m here. Miles away from anyone I know.” Cassie shifted and tugged at her sleeves, making sure the yellowing bruises from the night she had left were still covered.

The room stayed quiet for a few minutes before Barbara finally said, “Well now you know us!”

“Yeah,” Melissa said, her emerald eyes trained on Cassie, “You know us. And based on what Ava told me, you’re in my room for now,” she glanced down at her watch, “So grab a cup of coffee and let’s head over there now so ya know where stuff is. We’ll see youse at lunch.”

Melissa patted Barbs hand as she stood and grabbed her coffee mug, holding the door open for Cassie.

“Good luck, Cassiopeia!” Jacob called

Cassie waved at the other teachers, hastily gathering her things and following the redhead out the door.

“So you don’t got anybody out here?” Melissa asked as she flipped the classroom light on.

“No ma’am. I don’t know anyone here.”

“Why Philly? I mean, other than the obvious.”

Cassiopeia laughed softly, setting her things down on a desk, “I saw a job posting for Abbott and just…packed up my life and came here. I needed a change.”

Melissa nodded slowly, setting her mug down and looking the new teacher up and down, “Well listen kid, we got recess duty this week. I don’t know where you’re from but it gets hot. You might wanna reevaluate that grandma sweater.”

Cassie flushed and tugged the sleeves down over her hands, “Thanks but I’ll be fine.”

Melissa hummed thoughtfully before shrugging, “Suit yourself. You can put your stuff back here. How do you feel about science?”

The morning went smoothly and before she knew it, she and Melissa were standing outside watching the kids recess. The older woman had abandoned her leather jacket in her classroom and tied her hair up in a ponytail.

“Aren’t you hot?” Melissa asked, fanning herself with one hand.

“I’m fine,” Cassiopeia lied, pulling her hair off her neck in an effort to cool down.

“At least let me cuff your sleeves!” Melissa said, reaching for Cassie.

“No! No, I’m fine.”

“Kid, it’s a million degrees and you’re wearing a Mr. Rogers sweater!”

“I’m fine,” Cassie insisted.

Melissa sighed, before turning back to the kids “5 more minutes my little eagles! Ms. Schemmenti is too hot so we’re going to go inside.”

“Yes Ms. Schemmenti!” the kids called back to her.

“They really like you,” Cassie said.

“Yeah, well, the older ones had me when they were in second grade so they know the drill. We’ll take them to the gym and then head to the break room for lunch. By the way, you can eat the school lunch, but I do NOT recommend doing that.”

Cassiopeia laughed, “Thanks for the heads up, but I don’t usually eat lunch”

“Whadya mean you don’t eat lunch. You gotta eat”

“I eat breakfast and dinner! I’m just never hungry at lunch”

Melissa shook her head, “You can have something from my lunch”

Cassie opened her mouth to argue but the redhead was quick to cut her off, “It’s not up for debate kid. Alright my little eagles it’s time to line up!”

All the kids came running over to the door, lining up single file to follow Melissa inside and to the gym. Cassie stayed at the back of the line, closing the door behind them. Once the kids were inside the gym with the other recess duty teachers, Melissa dragged Cassie to the break room.

“Cassiopeia! You’re still here!” Jacob cheered.

“Where else would I be?” Cassie laughed.

“Melissa has a habit of running people off,” Mrs. Howard said, smiling fondly at the redhead who had sat down next to her.

“I do not!” Melissa said, pulling food out of her lunchbox, “Only the incompetent ones. New kid is smart.”

Cassie flushed and went to go perch on one of the windowsills but Melissa stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re goin? I told you it’s not up for debate.”

“Ms. Schemmenti, really, I’m fine!”

“Sit.” Melissa said sternly, grabbing a paper plate from the cabinet and putting some ziti on it.

“I wouldn’t try to argue dear,” Mrs. Howard warned when Cassie opened her mouth, “It’s better to just do what she tells you.”

Cassiopeia sighed and sat in the seat the older woman had indicated, taking the plate of ziti, “Thank you, Ms. Schemmenti.”

“Don’ worry about it kid.”

“So, Cassiopeia,” Barbara said, “How was your morning? Was Melissa nice to you?”

“Ms. Schemmenti was very kind to me. And the kids are wonderful! I don’t know how she manages to have such a well behaved class when she’s juggling two different grades!”

“The kids know better than to mess with me,” the redhead said, glancing up from her phone.

Cassie smiled and took a bite of the ziti, “Holy shit this is amazing!”

“It’s my nana’s recipe,” Melissa said, “She used to…” She trailed off, brow furrowed, “Did youse hear that?”

The room went silent as all the teachers listened to a timid knock at the door. Melissa jumped up to open the door. One of the older girls was standing on the other side, sniffling.

“What’s wrong hon?” Melissa asked her, bending down slightly so she could whisper in the redheads ear, “Gotcha. Let’s go to my classroom, okay? Hey, new kid, I might need you and your huge bag. Follow us.”

Cassiopeia grabbed her purse and was quick to catch up with them.

“What’s going on?” she asked once inside the classroom.

The younger girl looked nervously at Melissa.

“It’s okay hon, Miss Cassie is gonna be more help than me. She started her period. Nurse isn’t here and I don’t need the products anymore. Got anything in that bag of yours?”

“Oh! Oh of course, give me a second,” Cassie dug through her purse, producing pads and a small heating pack, “Do you need anything else? Tylenol?”

“I need new pants,” the student whispered.

“I’m afraid that’s the one thing I don’t carry with me,” Cassie said apologetically, “Is there somewhere we can get those?”

Melissa sighed, “Yeah, Ava’s office. But she has that place booby trapped since the last time I- actually I think that’s not important right now.” Melissa said, throwing a look towards the cameraman right outside the door who quickly ducked out of sight.

“That’s okay,” Cassie said, “What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Kya,”

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do Kya. We’re gonna tie my sweater around your waist to hide the stain and then Ms. Schemmenti is gonna give your mom a call to bring you some new pants, okay?”

“Okay,” Kya whispered.

“We can use Barb’s bathroom,” Melissa said, “She won’t mind.”

Cassie nodded and unbuttoned her sweater, folding it and gently tying it around Kya’s waist, “There. Now go with Ms. Schemmenti and she’ll get you taken care of.”

Kya took the pads out of her hand and followed Melissa out of the room. Cassie busied herself putting things back into her bag, completely missing the look the other teacher had given her. A breeze came through the open window and she shivered, rubbing at her arms before she froze.

“Fuck,” she whispered, “Please tell me I have a back up sweater somewhere in my bag!”

Cassie turned her bag over on the desk, searching the contents for something, anything she could use to keep the bruises on her arms covered.

“So, new kid,”

Cassie jumped, whirling around to see Melissa leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

“Hi, Ms. Schemmenti! I-I didn’t hear you coming!” Cassie quickly tucked her arms behind her.

“Uh huh.” Melissa said, walking into the classroom, “Thanks for your help with Kya. You sure were protective of that sweater all morning but you didn’t hesitate to give it to her.”

“I remember middle school. She didn’t need anyone teasing her for the stain”

Melissa nodded thoughtfully, “Whatcha got behind your back?”

“Nothing!”

“So if I walked behind you, there wouldn’t be anything to see?”

“No, there’s nothing back there!”

“And there’s nothing, say, on your wrists?”

“No ma’am.”

“Well then I’m sure you have no issue going back to the break room with me.”

“Actually I think I’ll stay here and…start grading the science tests!”

The redhead frowned and shook her head, “What’re you hiding kid. Just show me. You’ve been hiding something all day.”

Cassiopeia swallowed the lump in her throat and brought her arms back to the front, looking anywhere but Melissa’s face.

“Kid,” the older teacher whispered.

“I don’t want your pity. That’s why I kept them covered. I’m completely fine.”

“Hon…”

Cassie looked up in surprise at the gentleness of the teachers words. Melissa’s emerald eyes were soft and she gently took Cassie’s arm in her hand.

“Hon, this isn’t nothing,”

“I don’t want anyone’s pity, Ms. Schemmenti. I’m going to go home. I don’t have a back up sweater and it’s bad enough that you’ve seen them.”

“What-?”

“What happened?” Cassie cut her off, not wanting to hear her ask, “My ex. I told you this morning she wasn’t a good person. She wasn’t too pleased with the news that I wanted to break up. Now please, let go,”

Melissa let go of Cassie’s arms, backing up so the teacher had space to grab her things, too stunned to stop her as she quickly left the classroom.

When Cassiopeia got home, she threw everything onto the couch before going to the small kitchen to retrieve a bottle of wine and a plastic cup. This was supposed to be a new beginning and already she had someone pitying her.

“I knew I should’ve pushed off my start date,” she muttered to the small apartment as she filled her cup and collapsed on the couch. It didn’t take long after draining the bottle that she fell into a fitful sleep, using her bag as a pillow

It was her phone ringing that woke her. She glanced at the screen and was immediately filled with dread when she saw the “Unknown number” on the caller ID. Hesitantly she accepted the call, sitting in silence while she waited for the caller to speak.

“Hello? New kid? You there?”

“Ms. Schemmenti? How did you get my phone number?”

“I know a guy. Listen, what do you like on your pizza?”

“What? Ms. Schemmenti it’s…it’s 3 in the morning! Why are you calling?”

The line was quiet for a moment before the redhead sighed, “Listen, I’m real sorry for pushin’ you today. I shouldn’t have made you tell me what the bruises were from. Let me make you a pizza to make up for it.”

Cassiopeia laughed softly, “This is a dream. A weird, alcohol induced dream.”

“No it’s not. Kid you can either tell me or I’ll show up with something random.”

“Show up? Are you driving right now?”

“Yeah, I had a late night. Are you decent? I’m almost at your place.”

“How do you know where I live??”

“Again, I know a guy. Are ya decent?”

“Yeah, I-I’m decent. Should I unlock the door or do you know a guy for that too?”

“Ha ha very funny kid.”

The call dropped, leaving Cassie alone in the dark again. She jumped up and started throwing things into the small closet, trying to make the tiny space look halfway decent, before giving up and instead throwing on an oversized sweater and unlocking the door.

Melissa had her arms completely full of grocery bags when she got to the door.

“Ms. Schemmenti what-”

Melissa pushed past her into the apartment, “I told ya, I had a long night. Where can I put this?”

Cassiopeia led her to the tiny kitchen, still not quite sure if she was awake or not. Melissa dropped her bags on the narrow counter and started pulling things out.

“Okay, what is going on? You don’t need to do all this, you apologized on the phone.”

“Trust me kid, that wasn’t enough. And your secret is safe with me. I told the others you were sick and I sent you home.”

“School starts in 4 hours.”

“Actually, the kids are off tomorrow so no one will care that you’re hungover and I haven’t slept. Trust me, Ava will be hungover as hell.”

Cassie sat down on one of the wobbly stools, “So you’re making me a pizza…as an apology?”

Melissa finally glanced over her shoulder at the younger woman, “Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

“No…I don’t think so.” Cassie put her head in her hands, “I think I’m too hungover for this,”

Melissa laughed and tossed her a bottle of aspirin, “Picked this up at the store. You probably need it more than I do”

Cassie took it gratefully, “Thank you, Ms. Schemmenti.”

“You’re welcome kid. Go lay down. I’ll take care of this and I’ll wake you when it’s time to head to school.”

[lainiespicewrites]

Coach Syverson

Okay, Y'all I'm trying something new and posting one of my Henry Cavill Character fics. I haven't posted a fanfic in so long it's gonna be a short story probably only a two-parter maybe 3. Let me know what you think! I loved writing this. I think it's so cute!!!!

Warnings: None for Part 1 :) Definitely will be smut in part 2!

High school football coach Sy and school guidance counselor OFC

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was locked in a trance,  typing in progress notes from an early morning meeting I’d just finished with a student.  The sounds of the office, which was just coming to life outside my door, fuelled me. I almost never came in this early. But, one of my seniors was having a crisis and this was the only time we could work into her busy schedule. It’s gonna break my heart when that girl graduates this year. I get so attached to the students. I can’t help working as a school counselor. It's hard not to.  

“You’re in early,” The voice coming from the doorway made me jump. He chuckled softly.  “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”  After a brief heart attack, I finally looked up. I smiled when my eyes met his. 

“No, it’s okay, I just didn’t see you! Good morning Coach, What can I do for you?” His soft blue eyes held my gaze, before shooting me a gentle smile. Coach Syverson and I had become good friends since he started working at the school a little over a year ago. Like many good high school football coaches, they made a history teaching spot for him. Unlike others, he’s actually a great teacher! 

I met Logan Syverson for the first time in a staff meeting. Our principal introduced him at the beginning of the meeting going on and on about all the improvements he would bring to our team and our community. He certainly looked like a football player. The guy was huge! Tall, large muscles, and a full beard. His eyes were a deep blue. He had a winning smile and a southern accent. The English department was drooling. I hated him immediately. 

I figured he was just going to be a self absorbed prick like the last coach. who only cared about the popular students, peaked in high school, and got fired because he got a little too close to one of the cheerleaders. We were not at all sorry to see him go. Well, those of us with half a brain weren’t anyway. Some of the community and staff were more worried about the football program. But I digress. 

I was even more annoyed with him when I caught him falling asleep during the same meeting 30 minutes later when we were discussing the budget for new textbooks. I’m not exactly sure what came over me but I kicked him under the table. He was immediately alert. I expected him to glare at me. Or maybe even smirk. But the look on his face could only be described as apologetic. He quickly caught up to me when we were leaving the meeting. “Some first impression I made, huh?” When I didn’t immediately respond he added. “I swear I’m not some asshole that doesn’t care about education, that’s not like me, just didn’t sleep much last night. I had to take my dog to the emergency vet, she broke her leg in the woods late in the evening and didn’t get back until late and…”

“Is she okay?” I asked quickly. He looked completely dumbfounded.

“Uhm what?” He asked, clearly confused. I smiled sympathetically. I did exactly what I told my students not to do and judged him too quickly and I felt like an ass about it. 

“You’re dog, is she okay?” He smiled softly and nodded. 

“Yeah, Yeah she is. They got her all wrapped up and in a cast, poor pup, but she’ll be alright.” There was a brief pause and then. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“The students know me as Miss Plummer, but it’s Alayna. And um.. Sorry I kicked you. I don’t  know why I did that.” I smiled sheepishly. 

“Alayna,” He repeated. And then chuckled and squeezed my shoulder “No need to apologize, I’m glad you did. That would’ve been embarrassing. Falling asleep in my first staff meeting doesn’t really look good. Thanks for saving my ass back there!”

 We were fast friends from that point on!

Sy pushed off the door frame he’d been leaning against and walked into my office. “Brought ya coffee, I was gonna sneak in and leave it on your desk but I guess it’s you surprising me this morning,” He said, setting the cup from our local coffee shop down on my desk. 

“That’s sweet of you!” I took a sip and almost choked. I expected just plain black coffee. He wasn’t the kind of guy to order fancy coffee. But this was actually my coffee order. “How did you know my coffee order?” He had a big grin on his face now. 

“I remembered it from that morning when we ran into each other in line a few weeks ago. Thought I’d be nice and bring my work wife some coffee since I was there.” He shrugged. He really was such a sweetheart. He looked tough and scary. I know he did. When he and a few of the other teachers in the history hall gathered between classes they looked intimidating. At least from a student's perspective.I knew them all well though. I’ve talked with students failing his class because they wouldn’t ask questions. When I asked why, they said they were nervous. But he was certainly no one to be afraid of. Yes, he could yell, but he saved that for the football field. The man was a damn teddy bear. 

“Thank you!” I smiled. I quickly looked out into the guidance office to make sure there were no students around. “But I know you didn’t walk all the way down here just to bring me coffee for the hell of it. You’re buttering me up for something. What do you need, Logan?” He laughed and shook his head plopping down on the edge of my desk.

“You know me too well, sugar. Two things!” He said. I rolled my eyes. “Hey now young lady, don’t get an attitude with me I’m not asking you to give up a kidney!” I hid my smirk behind a sip of coffee and nodded at him to continue.  “First, Can you look up Ty’s grades for me just at some point by the end of the day. He came into my office this morning and was all nervous about his algebra grade, swearing up and down it’s because he failed one quiz. But, I’m pretty sure,” I cut him off. 

“He’s not turning in his homework because he just started dating Caitlyn and they’ve been staying up texting all night.” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Uh, Yeah, How’d you know?”

“Caitlyn stopped in to see me this morning and we had a chat about it, amongst other things. I’ll double check but I’m sure you’re right. I’ll email it to you so you can have a chat with him. I was going to call him in  today but he listens better to you. When you talked about being a veteran and your time in Iraq at the Labor Day assembly, I think that really struck something with him. He looks up to you.” his eyes locked with mine and he smiled softly placing his hand over mine on the desk just for a second. 

“Thank you for saying that,” He said before moving his hand and leaning on the desk again. I just smiled. 

“What’s the other thing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because you could’ve just sent me that in an email.” He smirked. And his nose crinkled a little. Oh no. 

“So our first away game is tomorrow night,”

“I know,” 

“And you’re a big football fan, and you love those boys don’t you?” He was deflecting

“What do you want, Sy?” I asked again. He let out a long breath. 

“Carol was supposed to be a student chaperone for the student fans buuuttt well, you heard her kid is really sick? I need you to come chaperone. Actually. I kinda already said you would.” He quickly stood up from my desk and backed up to the other side, like he was afraid I’d hit him. 

I just leaned back in my chair and groaned, 

“ugh Sy! What if I had plans?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. He chuckled 

“You don’t!” I scoffed 

“You don’t know that?” I retorted. He smirked 

“Yeah, what big plans do you have for Friday night?” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. I sighed. 

“Okay I don’t! But I could’ve!” I argued. “Why, didn’t you ask one of the other guys? Like Nick or I don’t know Mike?” I asked. 

“Nick’s an assistant coach, he’ll already be there. And we both know as much as Mike loves teaching…he does not want to spend his Friday night with the kids and at a football game making sure there’s no funny business. And you love the kids.” He was pleading now. Practically giving me puppy dog eyes. “And…Maybe I want you there,” He winked playfully. I looked down and jiggled the mouse on my computer to hide my blush. 

Jessica, who works the front desk of the guidance office swears he flirts with me. But I know he’s not. We’re friends. Good friends. We tease each other to make work a little more fun at best. But that's all it is. A man like Logan Syverson would never look twice at a girl like me. He’s fit and strong and tall and handsome. I’m pretty but I’m short and round and a little too quirky for my own good. Girls like me only get men like him in the movies. And I’m not stupid enough to believe otherwise.  Moment’s like these though. I do wonder a little. But I don’t let my thoughts wander too far. 

“Oh yeah?” I joke, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I mean maybe you’re our good luck charm. You’ve been at all our home games this year and we haven’t lost a game.” He said with a cheeky smile. 

“We’ve only had two Sy.” I say matter of fact. He just shakes his head. 

“That doesn’t mean you’re not good luck, but okay,” He held his hands up in defeat. “If you don’t want to do it I’ll figure something out. I messed up and didn’t ask you first. I’ll tell the boys their favorite guidance counselor doesn’t want to come support them. It’ll break their little hearts sugar but I’m sure they’ll find,” He pauses and lets out an exaggerated sigh “Some way to pull through and play a good game of football.” He frowned, shaking his head. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows looking straight at him. 

“Are you done?” I deadpanned. He snickered softly and nodded. “Fine, I’ll go,” He smiled and walked over squeezing my shoulder. 

“You’re the best! It’s supposed to be chilly! Wear a sweater! And Free coffee,on me all night! I promise,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah okay,” I chuckled.

“Seriously, I owe you sugar! I’m happy you’ll be there, I better get goin, class starts soon and I probably shouldn’t be late being that I’m the teacher,” He chuckled. 

“Get out of my office Logan!” I laughed. He smiled. 

“You’re the best!” He said one more time before finally walking out of my office. I shook my head and tapped at the keys on my keyboard to wake up my computer. I felt eyes on me and looked up to find Jessica standing in my doorway. 

“Don’t start!” I warned her. 

“Please, sugar. I really want you there!” she mocked. “He knows your coffee order, Alayna. How long are you going to ignore what’s right in front of you?” she asked exasperated. 

“It’s not like that Jess, He was just being sweet because he needed the help.” I said.

“Like you wouldn’t have done it anyway. You were trying to play coy but we both know you would have done it anyway.” She laughed. I blushed. And threw an eraser at her. 

“Get back to work!” She laughed. 

“Whatever you say… Sugar!” I snorted and we both chuckled for a minute. “I mean it Alayna, He’ll be kinda busy during the game and yes you’ll be keeping an eye on the students but take the opportunity to flirt back, he likes you, I’m not wrong!” She turned and walked back to her desk before I had a chance to say anything. And before I could spend any more time thinking about it my email notifications went off pulling me back into my work. 

The rest of my work day went by in a blur. I had meeting after meeting with students. My seniors were in panic mode, my juniors have early onset senioritis, and the freshman and sophomores came into vent about the daily woes of high school drama. Oh to be 16 again. 

With a full schedule of meetings I barely had time to eat lunch even in my office. When my phone lit up with a group text from two of my girlfriends asking about our weekly Thursday night dinner. I was quick to respond. 

(I’ll be there!) I sent the text, before packing up my desk for the evening. It had been a late night for me so it was just past 5. I didn’t bother going home first to change into something more casual. They were used to the office style by now. I felt my shoulders relax a little as I slipped into the booth next to skyler.

“Hey!” she said cheerfully, slowly pushing the glass of white wine they’d ordered for me closer. 

“You know me so well!” I smiled at her. 

“Long day?” Hayley asked from across the table, she picked up a tortilla chip and filled it with queso. I shrugged. 

“Not long in the sense that it was rough, just busy,” Skyler nodded and took a sip for her wine glass. 

“I feel that. I tried to get some school work done while the kids were down for a nap.” She runs an in-home daycare. She adores kids. But she’s also going back to school for a degree, Pediatric nursing. She’s a saint. I don’t know how she does it. 

“I commend you babe. The school is asking me to take classes, they want someone to take on the position as school psychologist. They’ve been trying to nudge me toward it the past couple of weeks. It’d be a raise but, that on top of the current workload? I don’t wanna drown myself ya know?”

“I totally get it, it’s not easy! But you should think about it. You’ve talked about it before! At least consider it.” Skyler said. 

“She’s got a point dude,” Hayley added. “Look at you guys moving up in the world while I’m stuck with an art block. If I can’t think of anything, my online shop isn’t gonna take off and I’ll be stuck at the factory forever!” She groaned and downed a quarter of her strawberry lemonade that was no doubt spiked. I looked sideways, meeting Skyler's eye. She was giving me the same look. 

“You’re just getting started Hayley.” Skyler said. 

“I know but if..”

“Ah, no buts!” I cut her off “We have to allow ourselves room for mistakes and error when we’re trying something new. You will get there. Give yourself the love you give your art! I don’t wanna hear anymore of that self deprecating bullshit from you! The people love their ghost fish!” I demanded, trying to hide a chuckle. She could be so stubborn! She was starting an online etsy shop for commissions and spreading the word through social media. She had all these fun ideas. She was a great artist. But of course it’s not an easy way to make money. And right now, things were slow. She would get there though! I know she would!

“Have I ever told you how annoying it is when you use your psychoanalysis shit on us?” she deadpanned. 

“Everyday but I still do it anyway, and that’s why you love me!”  She just laughed.

“Yeah okay buddy. Enough work talk, I lifted a bunch of heavy shit all day and I don’t wanna think about it. I just wanna eat my chips and queso and get drunk with my friends!” She said and scooped another chip through the queso. I laughed and held up my glass

“Cheers to that! Although we all know damn well it’s a Thursday night and we all have to get up early and we drove separately so drunk is relative but yes!” Skyler laughed and clinked her glass with mine. 

“Let her have her moment. Cheers to drunk Thursday dinner!” she said. 

“Fuck yeah!” Hayley added and added her glass in with ours. We all took a drink and it was quiet for only a second. 

“So,” Skyler spoke immediately. “It’s been a week, what's new?”

“Nothing for me, just still considering the offer to go back to school. My job would pay for it. Love life is still dry and I’ve bought like 3 new spicy romance books on my kindle this week!” I said laughing. 

“Fun!” Skyler smiled. “Hayley?” She asked and directed her attention across the table. 

“I went to Target and spent an obscene amount of money on fall stuff. We have a fall party coming up at work that I volunteered to do face painting for, but that should be fun! Oh there’s this new movie that came out I want you guys to come see with me I was hoping maybe tomorrow night?” she said. I started to agree. But then remembered my conversation with Sy earlier. 

“Oh tomorrow night? I can’t. I’m actually busy!” They both looked at me with raised eyebrows. 

“Since when are you busy on a friday night?” Hayley asked. Here we go. This is gonna open a whole can of worms. If Jess was good at getting my hopes up about Sy, these two were going to have me down right delusional. 

“There’s a football game. I like to support the team.” I said. Skyler snickered and a smirk spread across Hayley’s face. 

“You like to support the coach you mean?” Skyler asked. 

“That’s not true! I’ve always been a football fan!” I defended myself. Hayley chuckled

“Sure but since when do you go to away games? Isn’t it like 2 hours away?” She raised an eyebrow. I sighed. 

“Coach stopped by the office this morning, one of the other teachers that was supposed to chaperone the roadies tomorrow canceled and since he and I are friends he volunteered me to do it. He buttered me up with free coffee this morning and practically begged me to go tomorrow and… I just can’t say no to him. Plus he said he really wants me to be there.”  I swirled my wine glass and stared down at it. I knew the looks they were giving me.  I heard skyler squeal.

“Shut up! He asked you to come because he wants to spend time with you! Watch, I bet next week he’ll ask you out!”  She bounced in her seat. 

“He does not! He’s going to be busy with the team! He’s not going to have time to talk to me or anything.” I said taking a big gulp of wine. 

“Why else would he say he wants you there though. And clearly you want him to hang out with you. Or you want to hang out with him. Or you wouldn’t have given up your precious Friday night in!” Hayley smirked. 

“Okay, so what if I do. He’s not into me like that. He’s just friendly. He’s southern, it's just how he is!” I said, trying to hold onto whatever sanity I had left. 

“Really?” Skyler said. “Does he bring anyone else coffee? Ask if he can eat lunch in anyone else’s office?” Hayley but it

“Didn’t he get you a christmas gift last year?” she asked. 

“He was my secret santa!” I stated. They both sighed. 

“ I don’t know why you can’t see it but he likes you!” Skyler said. I started to  object but Hayley cut me off. 

“You don’t have to believe us. Just pay attention to how he acts around you tomorrow and the next couple of days. He's trying to make a move. And I know you have your little no coworkers rule,”

“Because if…”

“Ah, I don’t wanna hear it! He’s clearly trying to get your attention. And you work in a public high school it's not like everyone else isn’t hooking up.” She stated. 

“She’s got a point, remember all the teachers when we were in school? And he’s not just trying to hook up. He’s playing the long game,” Skyler said. “All we’re saying is IF we’re right,”

“And we are,” Hayley added. Skyler gave her side eye but laughed. 

“If he asks you out you should give him a chance. We’ve never met him but it’s clear he’s so into you. And he seems like a great guy. Don’t push him away because something COULD go wrong.” she said. At that point the waiter came up and we placed our order. I also ordered another glass of wine. But a wine buzz wasn’t enough to convince me they were right. Sy couldn’t like me. I wasn’t his type. But it didn’t matter. I will go tomorrow and have a good time watching the game and cheering on the boys and watching Sy in his element. And when it’s all said and done I’ll ride home with the student section and maybe catch the chance to say goodbye to my friend before we leave. And on Monday everything will be as it always has been. Sy and I are friends. 

I repeat that to myself as I walk the hall toward the gym after school on Friday. I turned down the hall toward the locker rooms and found his office door open. Sy was leaning back in his desk chair watching the tape from a few weeks ago. He noticed me before I spoke. He paused the video and smiled. 

“Hey you! To what do I owe the honor? You never venture down this way?”

“Just coming to double check the plan for tonight! We’re meeting back here at 5:15 and the bus leaves at 5:45?” I asked him. He nodded, running a hand over his beard. 

“Yeah, but I was thinking, you got plans for dinner?” He asked and raised an eyebrow. 

“Uh I was just gonna run home for dinner, why do you ask?” I leaned against the doorway and crossed my arms over my chest. I watched curiously as he chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. 

“I was gonna grab a bite to eat in town before the game. I won’t have time to go all the way home. Do you wanna come with me?” He finally made eye contact with me again and gave me a soft smile. 

“Oh um,” I hesitated for a second. 

“I’ll buy,” He smirked. I rolled my eyes. 

“You don’t have to do that, Sy,” I said softly. He stood up grabbing his keys off the desk. 

“I know, I want to.” He smiled and brushed his shoulder against mine as he walked out the door. “Come on, I’ll drive.” I raised an eyebrow 

“Driving me to dinner and you’re paying? Sy if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were flirting with me.” the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk and he stopped walking. He turned toward me and bit his lip trying to hold back a grin. 

“Alayna,” He chuckled nervously, “I find it hard to believe after all this time…” He was cut off by a loud whistle down the hallway. 

“Well ain’t that a cute couple!” a voice said in a horrible mock southern accent “Get it coach!” One of Sy’s boys called from just outside the weight room. Another one of the football players popped his head out the door to see what was going on and started making kissy sounds with his lips. Sy dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head but his shoulders shook when he chuckled, giving him away. He loved those boys he couldn’t be mad if he wanted to be. 

“Tyler you’re already on thin ice don’t make me bench you tonight! You too Matt. Don’t think I forgot about the little stunt you pulled in the parking lot last week!” He gave them a stern look

“Sorry coach!” they said in unison 

“It was funny though,” Matt mumbled. Sy shook his head

“Sure, You boys get out of here and get something to eat, I don’t need you passing out on me on the field tonight.” He held Matt’s gaze. 

“It was one time!” He stressed. 

“And it’s only gonna be one if I can help it. Go eat!” He barked. The boys immediately straightened up and nodded. 

“Yes coach!” Logan just chuckled and we kept walking. 

“They adore you,” I said. He smiled 

“Nah, they just know I’m not kidding’” I laughed. 

“Oh come on Sy, you aren’t that mean, or you wouldn’t care so much,” We walked out the back door to the teacher parking lot and headed to his truck. “Hey… what were you saying earlier,” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about sugar,” He smirked. 

“Sure you don’t cowboy,” I rolled my eyes and hopped up into the truck after he unlocked it.  He slid in next to me and started the engine. 

“Where do you wanna eat?” He looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged. 

“Doesn’t matter to me, you’re buying,” I said flatly. 

“Sugar,” He threw his arm over the back of the seat, his fingertips brushing my shoulder, as he backed out of the parking spot. He left it there as he pulled out on the road. “Don’t be shy with me, I know you love food darlin.  I’ll drive all around town and we’ll starve until you tell me what you want.” I looked over at him just in time to make eye contact before his eyes shifted back toward the road. He shook his head and tried to hide his smirk. 

“You are so dramatic,” I teased, trying to play it cool but I could feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. 

“Oh, I’m dramatic? Weren’t you the one tearing up in her office because of a book you were readin?” He snickered. I reached over and playfully smacked him in the chest. 

“Shut up!” I laughed. He held his hand to his chest feigning hurt. 

“Ow!” He pouted. 

“That did not hurt! I barely hit you!” he side eyed me still pouting but the corners of his mouth started to break into a smile

“Over here committing spousal abuse.” He shook his head. I laughed so hard I snorted. 

“We’re not married Sy!” 

“You’re my work wife, it's the same damn thing” He chuckled. “Seriously, where do you wanna eat, I’m starving.” 

“My god Logan,” I laughed. “Um fine, I haven’t tried that new sushi and ramen place yet!” I said. He almost slammed on the break. 

“You haven’t?! That place is right up your alley, all trendy and shit. It’s real good too!” 

“You think I’m trendy?” I raised an eyebrow. He looked over for a moment and caught my eye giving me a gentle smile. 

“I think you deserve to be taken out to nice places.” And here I was blushing again. 

“Sy,” I started but my phone buzzed in my lap distracting me, I wasn’t really sure what to say anyway. It was a group chat with the girls asking me what time we leave tonight. They were going to have a field day with this. And instead of just replying I decided to start a fire. I tapped my screen to open my camera and held it up to take a selfie “Smile, cowboy.” He chuckled. 

“What are you doin over there, sugar?” He smirked but glanced over at the camera quickly so I could snap a quick photo. 

“Lighting a match.” I smirked. He bit his lip and chuckled softly. 

“You’re something else,” He spoke as we pulled into the restaurant. I quickly sent the picture to the group chat and slid my phone into my purse.

Sy was right. This place was incredible. And very trendy. 

“God I can’t get over how good this place is!” I said for like the 4th time. Logan smiled. 

“I told ya, Darlin,” The waitress came and brought out our bill and I reached for my purse. “Hey, No, I told you, I’m paying.” He said pulling out his wallet and handing his card to the waitress. 

“Thank you Sy, I appreciate it,” He grinned.

“Anytime, you deserve it,” I blushed, “ you’re really saving my ass tonight.” I forced a smile, so that’s what this is about. I told the girls this was all just because he needed something. 

“It’s no big deal Logan.” I said. I pulled my phone out and checked my messages. There were like 10 from the group chat now. 

“OMG YOU'RE WITH HIM?!”

“You didn’t tell us you were getting dinner with him.”

“UNLESS THEIR NOT GETTING DINNER ;)”

“What else would they be….oh”

“Alayna you better not be fucking the football coach right now.”

“Leave her alone Hayley she can fuck him if she wants to BUT IF YOU DO I WANT DETAILS”

“ALAYNAAAAA”

“GIRLLLL ANSWER USSSSS”

“Seriously dude you can’t just send us a picture of you with your hunky football coach man crush and just disappear.”

“OMG THEY’RE TOTALLY FUCKING”

I held back a smile and shook my head. 

“It is a big deal,” He said and grabbed my hand across the table. “I’m glad you’re gonna be there tonight.” I smiled but pulled my hand back. 

“Sure, because you needed another chaperone.” I joked. His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head catching my eye. 

“Yeah, but I wanted it to be you, I like hangin out with you. And you’re really fun to watch in the stands. I didn’t know you could be so…aggressive.” He smirked. 

“I’m just really passionate about football!” I argued. “And how do you know you like hanging out with me? We've barely seen each other outside of work.” I questioned. 

“Well we should change that,” he said.

“Won’t your girlfriend get jealous?” I asked. I knew a lot about him but he never mentioned any relationship. I’d be stupid to think he wasn’t seeing someone. He laughed. God I loved that sound. 

“Don’t have one sugar,” He said with a mischievous grin on his face. 

“How?” It was my turn to be confused. 

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” He retorted quickly. 

“I … because…” I stuttered, unable to come up with an answer.

“Haven’t found the right guy yet huh?” He pauses, “guess that’s where I’m at, she just ain’t found me yet.” He smiled. Right then the waitress came back with his card. “Thanks honey,” He said, giving her his signature smile. He signed the receipt and stood from the table. “We oughta get going. Don’t wanna be late for the game!” 

Sy drove us back to the school and parked his truck next to my car. “Oh no!” I sighed. 

“What's wrong?” He asked. 

“I was going to grab a sweatshirt when I went home and,” I opened my car, turning on the light to look in  the back seat. “I don’t have an extra in my car.” I pouted. 

“Is that all?” He chuckled. He reached into the back seat of his truck and pulled out a black hoodie. “Here. I always have an extra in the truck you can wear mine. Don’t want you to catch a cold.” I took it from him tentatively. 

“Sy, this is your coach sweatshirt.” I said. 

“One of ‘em yeah.” He smiled. 

“I…okay,” I just shook my head and pulled the hoodie on. He bit his lip. 

“Looks good on ya,” He smirked. 

“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes. Before we could continue to tease each other the buses pulled up. And I could see some of the students' cars pulling into the student lot “We’d better head over there!” I said quickly. Logan nodded. 

“Yeah, we better get going.”

[sweatermuppet]

What is it like being trans in New Hampshire? I'm trans in Maine and generally consider NH the black sheep of New England when it comes to queer politics. Some of my trans friends consider it a no-stop zone on our roadtrips.

uh it's pretty fine for me. i get kinda sad when people say NH isnt trans friendly (a sentiment ive seen a lot lately). i had an openly transitioning teacher in high school. i had many gay teachers in high school. i was one of the first kids to transition openly at my school & there were a lot of struggles but it was also 6+ years ago & mostly teachers were under-educated & didn't know how to protect me. i got in a fight & suspended over a kid who was transphobic toward me, but i was allowed to use the boy's bathroom & locker room & all of my core teachers were pretty good about using my name & pronouns

i have multiple trans friends, just locally, & know other trans people a little further out in NH from following them on IG. some pretty decent art scenes in various towns & those are LGBT-dense. one of my trans friends started estrogen yesterday (prescription thru informed consent). i will say in my experience, NH healthcare is lacking for transsexuals—it's been easier for me to go thru Massachusetts or NH planned parenthoods, but ive been able to receive treatment fairly easily (cost being one of the only major negative factors)

as for people, a lot of folks kind of don't care? there are of course republicans & conservatives & a disheartening amount of libertarians, but in my day to day, it's mostly "live free or die" & if you're not hurting anyone, it's not too big of a deal. some of the republicans in my life (like friends' dads) have the attitude of "well i don't get it" but they still call me silas & are generally alright with me, aren't hostile towards me

i see trans flags pretty often. i saw a bumper sticker last month that was the shape of NH completely colored in with the trans flag. there are a bunch of coffee shops & bookstores & artsy places nearby i can think of that employ trans people, house trans art, etc

recently, anti-trans & anti-LGBT bills have been introduced & passed in NH. two passed last month, which can be read about here. i saw some pretty disgusting sentiments shared about those bills on twitter when they were introduced. those make it harder to exist here, but it's not impossible & it does not immediately make all residents hostile toward transsexuals. i don't want people to abandon NH because they think it's too far gone or too hopeless. trans people will always exist in every state & every country & every corner, no matter how hostile those places become

people here love me, regardless of how political parties view me. people here fight for me. there are trans people & Black people & disabled people here who are more vulnerable than me who i want to stay & fight for & protect. if you'd like to learn more about diversity in NH & how to protect various human rights, here are some orgs i am familiar with:

NH PANTHERS (anti-racism advocacy & education)

Queer-Lective (art, education, & connection)

Black Lives Matter NH

GLSEN NH (LGBT resources & education for schools/teachers/students)

Reproductive Freedom Fund of NH (abortion fund, sex ed, LGBT advocacy)

603 Equality (LGBT advocacy & education)

Lovering Health Center (reproductive care, LGBT education, gender affirming care for NH, MA, & ME)

Black Heritage Trail of NH (Black history)

ACLUNH (civil liberties + human rights)

[dee-writes-smut]

Mismatched Eyes Of Fire (Chapter Two)

SUMMARY It's your first day at UA, everyone you've met has seemed genuine (with the exception of Bakugo), though one person stands out against the rest, a boy with a similar fire in his eyes that you had seen in Tenko.

CONTENT WARNINGS death, depictions of homeless children, mentions of abuse, loss, memorial shrines, and grief. For the sake of the series (and my conscience), all characters are aged up while still following the plot of MHA. In other words, think of UA as a college rather a high school.

AUTHORS NOTE three consistent updates in a row?! Look at me go, guys!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Eraserhead was eerily quiet as he led you through the halls of the school you could now call home. The hallways were a labyrinth of polished floors and sleek walls adorned with inspiring posters of pro heroes. As you followed, you couldn't help but notice the grandeur of UA: high ceilings, bright lighting, and a sense of history embedded in the very walls. The hallways buzzed with energy, the chatter of students mingling with the occasional announcement over the PA system. You walked up several steps and took even more turns before arriving at a pair of grand wooden doors with a small plaque that read "Principal Nezu."

Before opening the door, Eraserhead introduced himself as Mr. Aizawa and asked that you address him as such unless out on missions. You readily agreed, feeling a wave of gratitude toward your new teacher for sticking his neck out to help you find better sleep arrangements than the cold, dirty concrete you had been sleeping on.

Aizawa had you wait outside Principal Nezu’s office for what felt like hours as he shared your situation behind closed doors. The minutes dragged on, feeling like an eternity as you rocked back and forth on your feet, growing more anxious about the whole housing ordeal. Yes, you were now a student at UA, but the school’s dorms were for general studies students and definitely cost more than you could ever dream to afford. You stared at the polished wooden door, tracing the intricate patterns in the wood grain with your eyes, trying to calm your nerves. The soft hum of voices behind the door was barely audible, adding to your anxiety as you waited.

When the doors finally swung open, Aizawa was accompanied by the mousy principal walking elegantly at his side. Nezu, though small in stature, exuded an air of authority and intelligence that was palpable. He looked you over contemplatively, taking stock of your body language and your tattered appearance with a simple hum and a nod toward Aizawa.

"I can see now what you are talking about," the principal said, his voice soft, unwavering, and detached, which you found more unsettling than comforting. "Excuse my manners, dear," he chuckled hauntingly. "My name is Nezu. I run this academy, and it has been brought to my attention that you have nowhere to stay comfortably while you are with us, is that correct?"

You immediately nodded, a harsh blush reddening your cheeks and neck. "Yes, sir," you managed to choke out, bowing respectfully.

"No need to be embarrassed. Do you mind if I ask some questions, out of personal curiosity?" Nezu wondered, Aizawa sending him a confused look.

"Of course," you stammered in response, looking between the two men (?).

"Do you have any family?" Nezu’s question was delivered as gently as the intellectual rodent could manage.

"No," you responded quickly, your throat burning with the need to weep at the reminder of your loss, of Tenko.

"Why are you here? What is it you wish to achieve in our hero academy?" Nezu continued, his black eyes gleaming with curiosity. When you let out a shaky breath, he immediately took a breath to reign himself in. "My apologies, I am used to having a good read on the people I meet, but you seem to be an enigma. I hope I didn’t offend you."

"No!" you responded quickly. "You didn’t, it’s just a sore subject," you paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I raised myself on the streets since I lost both my parents before I could remember them. I guess that loneliness and feeling of invisibility pushed me to want to be a hero. I want to help people feel seen, if that makes sense," you chuckled bashfully, rubbing your neck.

"Thank you for indulging me," the principal responded somewhat cheerily, waving a paw at Aizawa who was still standing at his side. "Mr. Aizawa will show you to your room. Also, I am personally going to pay for your tuition."

"I couldn’t," you immediately declined, your head spinning at his offer. "Having free board is enough. Seriously, I will get a job or something and pay it myself."

"Nonsense," Nezu smiled—or at least that’s what you thought he was doing. "Consider it a donation made in good faith. You will be a welcome star in our hero course this year. I don’t want you to worry about anything except for your training," Nezu nodded at Aizawa before giving you one last curious look and returning to his office. You thanked him hesitantly before the heavy doors closed.

"This way," Aizawa huffed, encouraging you to follow him back down the way you came.

The dorms at UA were gorgeous, towering buildings with each class’s numbers on them. Aizawa led you to one furthest from the rest of the dorms, the lettering above the building reading 1-A. It was the only building in the area aside from an identical building reading 1-B standing tall just opposite 1-A, separated by a wide cement walkway. The buildings looked newly constructed, with large windows that let in ample sunlight, making them look warm and inviting. The exterior was modern, with sleek lines and a blend of concrete and glass that gave it a sophisticated yet welcoming appearance.

As you approached the doors of the dorms, Aizawa stopped you. "Your room is the only complete one at the moment, fifth floor on the right in the middle. Also, here is a meal card. Just show it at the cafeteria when you get food, and you should have no trouble there."

"Thank you," you stammered in awe, taking the license-sized card colored in blue with the classic gold UA lettering on the front and a barcode on the back.

"The communal showers should be operating as well as the kitchen. If you find any issues, my room is on the first floor past the living room on the left," he added, opening the doors for both of you to enter. The lobby of the dorm was spacious and modern, with comfortable-looking furniture arranged around a large television. The walls were adorned with motivational posters and bulletin boards filled with various notices and announcements. There was a large communal area with plush couches, a few tables for studying or eating, and a game area complete with a pool table and several arcade machines.

"You should get your uniform sometime tonight or early tomorrow morning before classes start. As far as your hero costume goes, just submit your idea with any specifications to me before the week is up, and we’ll have the support department get it done for you."

"Sir, I don’t know what to say, this is all—I’m grateful," you breathed, desperately trying to keep your composure.

"All that we ask in return is that you do your best, plus ultra and all that," he rolled his eyes at himself, seemingly irritated that the school's moto had made its way past his lips. Rather than cringe, you were filled with a new sense of determination. You would not let these opportunities pass you by, and you would show everyone that all the effort and money they had put into you wasn’t in vain. You would earn every cent back by becoming the best.

"I will, sir," you bowed with a determined gleam in your eyes, causing your teacher’s lip to curl into an almost imperceptible smile—something you doubted happened often.

As Aizawa left, you took a moment to absorb your surroundings. The kitchen was state-of-the-art, with stainless steel appliances and a large island for communal cooking. You took the elevator up to the fifth floor, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Your room was at the middle of the hall, just as Aizawa had described. When you opened the door, you were greeted by a simple but cozy space with a bed, a desk, and a small window overlooking the campus. The room was sparsely furnished but had a warmth to it, with soft lighting and neutral tones that made it feel welcoming. A small dresser was tucked into the corner, and a bookshelf stood next to the desk, waiting to be filled with your belongings.

Setting your backpack down, you took a deep breath. This was your new beginning. You had a place to stay, food to eat, and the opportunity to become a hero. For Tenko, and for yourself, you would give it everything you had.

Your uniform had arrived just like Aizawa said, with a note reminding you to submit your hero costume design by the end of the week. The uniform fit perfectly, a stark contrast to the ill-fitting clothes you'd been wearing. It felt strange to be in something so clean and well-tailored, almost like stepping into a new identity. You'd spent several nights working on your hero costume design, carefully considering every detail, particularly the need for ear protection. When you finally handed it to Aizawa, you made sure to emphasize this requirement.

Aizawa nodded, taking the paper from you. Then, he handed you some cash. "From Nezu. He said to go buy some new clothes with it, preferably ones that fit."

Your face flushed red at the comment as you glanced down at your too-short pants and too-tight top. "Thank you, sir," you responded meekly, taking the money without complaint. By this point, you understood that it was no use arguing with the principal about money or anything else he had provided for your comfort. With a grunt, Aizawa left you to your thoughts, walking back to his room in the complex.

Today was your first day of classes, your first opportunity to prove yourself. You hadn’t had time to go out and buy new clothes yet, between studying and preparing, so you were thankful for the mandatory uniforms. As you got ready, you marveled at the difference consistent showers, access to clean water, and regular meals had made. You felt rejuvenated, less tired, and it showed. The dirt streaks and stains were gone, your calloused hands were softer, and your body had filled out enough to hide your ribs. You were beyond grateful for the opportunities you had been given, the space to prepare for the next big step in your life. This was going to change the course of your life forever, and there was no going back.

You had a feeling that these small acts of care were influenced by Tenko beyond the grave. For some reason, being here, achieving both your dreams, made you feel close to him, more connected. It felt nice; you felt seen again, a feeling that only Tenko had ever been able to give you. On top of that, you had asked Aizawa if you could set up a memorial shrine for your long-lost friend, and he had given you no resistance. Now that you had the means, you could remember Tenko properly. Every night before bed, you would light a censer and share your day with your friend, hoping he could hear your call and share in some of your light the same way you shared in his.

As you walked through the dormitory halls, you noticed how the early morning sun filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow on everything it touched. The hallways were still quiet, with only a few students up and about, but there was a palpable sense of excitement in the air. You made your way to the common area, where a few students were already gathering, most likely checking out newly finished dorms, their nervous chatter filling the space. Some of them glanced at you curiously, but you were too focused on your thoughts to pay them much attention.

Standing at the entrance of your classroom, 1-A, you took a deep breath and stepped inside. The room was spacious and filled with state-of-the-art equipment. The desks were arranged in a semi-circle, ensuring everyone had a good view of the front where a large digital board displayed today's date and the UA logo. You took a seat near the middle, trying to find a balance between being too close to the front and not wanting to be too far back.

As more students trickled in, you noticed a few familiar faces from the entrance exam. Kirishima, the boy who had saved you from being crushed by the robot, waved enthusiastically at you before taking a seat nearby. You smiled and waved back, feeling a bit more at ease knowing you had at least one friendly face in the class. The chatter around you grew louder, filled with excitement and anticipation for what the day would bring.

Finally, the door opened, and Aizawa walked in, his usual tired expression in place. He set his things down on the desk at the front of the room and scanned the class, his gaze stopping momentarily on you. You straightened up, meeting his eyes with determination.

"Welcome to your first day at UA High School," he began, his voice firm but quieting the room instantly. "I am Mr. Aizawa, your homeroom teacher. We have a lot to cover, so let's get started."

By the time lunch rolled around, you were pretty familiar with most of your classmates. Mina, the fluffy pink-haired girl who had talked your ear off before the entrance exam, was still a ball of energy. When she noticed you seated next to Kirishima, she squealed, skipping over to you to start a conversation, with the rest of her group following along. Mina's exuberance was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile as she animatedly introduced her friends.

Hagakure, the invisible girl, nearly matched Mina’s enthusiasm. Her cheerful voice was easy to recognize, and she greeted you warmly. Ochaco introduced herself as Uraraka with a sweet smile and a polite bow, her presence gentle and kind. Jiro gave you a bored once-over before turning back to her conversation with a girl named Yaoyorozu, who introduced herself with a composed and confident demeanor. Yaoyorozu's authoritative aura suggested she would make a good leader.

Finally, a small girl named Asui waved hello, her expression wise and calm. She insisted on being called Tsu, and you were happy to oblige. Her serene demeanor was a calming influence amidst the lively group.

During a break between subjects, you met Shoji, Sato, and Koda. They were all kindhearted and easy to talk to when they did speak. Shoji's multi-armed form was imposing yet gentle, Sato's muscular build was contrasted by his soft-spoken nature, and Koda's connection with animals was endearing.

Ojiro introduced himself after you almost tripped over his tail. He chuckled, catching you by your arm with a crooked smile and a soft apology. His calm and composed demeanor made you feel at ease.

Kirishima introduced you to Kaminari, whom you had started to hope for a friendship with. Kaminari was actually really funny, but it seemed he was more focused on cracking jokes and making friends than on learning. You liked Kaminari, but you preferred Kirishima's grounded nature. Kirishima was just as kind as the day you met him at the entrance exam.

You introduced yourself to Tokoyami, who was hiding in a dark corner of the classroom, looking grossed out by something the short purple-haired guy had said. Tokoyami's brooding presence was intriguing, and you found his straightforwardness refreshing. Soon after, you had the displeasure of running into Mineta, the short purple-haired guy. You quickly understood why Tokoyami had made a weird face; Mineta was a perv.

You recognized Iida as the kid who asked the only question at the entrance exam. Turns out he wasn’t stuck up; he was just very particular about rules and guidelines. At least he seemed dedicated to his education, and you thought he could make a good leader if he learned to be more accepting of others' faults. Sero was talking with Iida at the time, so you were introduced to him as well. Sero's laid-back attitude was a nice contrast to Iida's strictness.

Aoyama was just sitting at his desk "sparkling," so you didn’t really have the opportunity to talk to him, but at least he was better than Bakugo, who was straight up unapproachable. In fact, Bakugo tried to yell at you when he bumped shoulders with you on the way to his desk, which led to the only acceptable response: you getting right back in his face and calling him out.

"You’re the one who ran into me!" you scoffed, sending an apologetic look toward the group of girls you were mingling with. They all stood stock still in shock at your response. The entire classroom had gone silent, seemingly holding their breaths for Bakugo's reaction.

"Weren’t you the idiot that was the closest to my score?" he huffed, glaring at you.

"Yes," you said confidently, throwing daggers with your eyes in his direction. Bakugo seemed unfazed, just as you were of him.

"You better get ready, I’ll kill you on the mats later!" Bakugo yelled, a sinister smile curving his lips as small licks of orange crackled from his palms. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the pathetic threat.

"We’ll see," you hummed before turning back to your conversation as if nothing had happened. Being ignored seemed to only piss Bakugo off more, but he held his tongue and sat down.

That led you to now, walking through the lunch line at the cafeteria, gathering your food card in hand as you paid for your mapo tofu and a side of rice. The aroma of the spicy tofu dish made your stomach growl in anticipation. You had run into a green-haired kid when initially getting into line. He was one of the students you hadn’t had a chance to meet before class started. His name was Midoriya, and he was incredibly sweet and friendly. The two of you chatted up a storm while in line, sharing your mutual excitement about being at UA and your dreams of becoming heroes. Midoriya's enthusiasm and genuine kindness made you feel even more welcome at UA, and you were grateful to have met someone who shared your passion for heroism.

As you made your way through the bustling cafeteria, the aroma of various dishes wafting through the air, you balanced your tray carefully. The cafeteria was abuzz with the lively chatter of students, the clatter of utensils, and the hum of excitement as everyone shared their morning experiences.

You navigated through the maze of tables, searching for an empty spot, when you suddenly collided with someone, causing your tray to wobble precariously. Your mapo tofu and rice threatened to spill over the edges as you quickly tried to steady it.

"I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, looking up to see who you'd run into. Standing before you was a tall boy with strikingly mismatched features. His hair was split down the middle, one side white as snow and the other a deep crimson red. His eyes mirrored this dichotomy, one a cool, icy blue and the other a warm, fiery gray. There was something about his eyes that reminded you so clearly of Tenko, that same fire you thought, though it was also entirely different. This boys fire perplexed you, sure it held plenty of anger and hatred, but it seemed a lot softer than Tenko’s, more controlled.

"It's fine," he responded calmly, his voice steady and composed. His expression was stoic, almost indifferent, but his eyes held a depth that hinted at a complicated past. "I should have been more careful."

You felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. "No, really, it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention."

The boy studied you for a moment, his gaze intense yet not unkind. "I'm Shoto Todoroki," he introduced himself, his voice devoid of any irritation.

You gave a small, nervous smile, introducing yourself as well. "Nice to meet you, Todoroki."

Todoroki nodded slightly, his eyes flicking to your tray. "You might want to find a seat before your lunch ends up on the floor."

You laughed softly, the tension easing a bit. "Good point. Do you have a seat already?"

He glanced around the cafeteria, then shook his head. "No, I don't. You can join me if you'd like."

Surprised by the offer, you nodded eagerly. "Sure, that would be great."

The two of you found an empty table near a window, the natural light casting a soft glow over your meals. As you settled down, you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. Todoroki's presence was imposing yet strangely comforting.

"So, you're in Class 1-A too?" you asked, trying to make conversation as you began eating your mapo tofu.

"Yes," he replied simply, taking a bite of his own lunch. "I saw you during the entrance exam. Your quirk is… interesting."

You chuckled lightly, a bit embarrassed by the attention. "Thanks. It's called Dissonance. I can influence actions and thoughts with my singing."

Todoroki raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "That's a powerful ability. Have you been training with it for long?"

You nodded, grateful for the interest. "Yeah, I've had to learn to control it and not overuse it. It can be pretty dangerous if I'm not careful."

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, then nodded. "It's important to know your limits. My quirk has its own challenges too."

You glanced at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn't, you decided to ask. "What about your quirk? It's pretty unique too, right? Though I don’t remeber ever seeing you at the entrance exam."

Todoroki's expression remained neutral, but you could see a flicker of something—perhaps hesitation or discomfort. "I got in through recommendation, I only saw you that day because I happened to step into the analysis room when you were using your quirk. As far as my quirk goes, I have control over both fire and ice," he explained, his tone even. "But I only use my ice side."

You tilted your head, sensing there was more to the story, but you decided not to press. "That's impressive. It must be difficult to balance both elements."

"It can be," he admitted, his gaze distant for a moment before returning to you. "But it's something I have to learn to manage."

The conversation flowed more easily after that, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying Todoroki's company. Despite his initial aloofness, there was a quiet strength and determination about him that you respected. As you finished your lunch, you felt a sense of camaraderie with him, a shared understanding of the challenges you both faced in mastering your quirks and pursuing your dreams at UA.

[taringill]

Redesign of my Rise Renet🩵

June 6, 2024

Old design:

December 30, 2022

Bonus:

I've been thinking about lightening Renet's hair for a long time so that she looks more like a blonde. I like it even more this way.

Я уже давно думала осветлить волосы Ренет, чтобы она была больше похожа на блондинку. Так мне нравится даже больше.

A little bit about my version of rottmnt Renet. I must say right away that I took the canon from the comics from Mirage and showed imagination, added something from myself.

A kind, cheerful, but restless girl, the soul of the company, a blonde with brown eyes named Renet Tilley, Mikey's love interest (she is 1 year older than him). She is a teenage student of Lord Simultaneous, studying to be the Keeper of Time and Dimensions. But besides Renet, he has a group young people studying with him, among whom is her friend Eric. She knows math, physics perfectly well and knows chemistry and biology well, but her favorite subject is history. She knows the subject very well. And this is not surprising. After all, her studies are mainly related to time, so knowledge of this subject is necessary.

But despite her curiosity, she is not particularly diligent. Due to boredom, Renet took the time and dimension scepter of her teacher (Lord Simultaneous) without asking. She got caught, but immediately jumped into the portal, which she opened with the help of a scepter. But she didn't jump into the past, but into another dimension. The dimension in which the turtles live. In this way, she wanted to deceive her teacher, but it still didn't work out. According to my headcannon, Renet also lives in the early 21st century, just like turtles, just in another dimension. This dimension is more technological, futuristic and advanced. In short, this is Donnie's paradise. I was inspired by how people from the last century imagined the beginning of the 21st century at least. More futuristic than it really is. In this dimension, yokai and humans have been communicating and living together for a long time, but long before that there was a war between them. It was a long time ago. Also, in the Renet dimension, they communicate with residents of other planets and even other dimensions.

P. S. I don't know what year the turtles have, but I can assume that around 2020 (+/- 1 year). The series takes place in our time, and it was released in 2018. Judging by the answer of one of the creators of the series, that April is 16 at the beginning of the series, and 18 in the movie, it takes about 2 years. Therefore, most likely (perhaps I don't know for sure), the film is set around 2020. In general, Renet is from the same year and century, only in a different dimension.

I'll write about it right away, they didn't know about turtles in the Renet dimension. But after their first meeting, Renet popularized her new friends.

Немного о моей версией rottmnt Ренет. Сразу скажу, что я взяла канон из комиксов от Мираж и проявила фантазию, добавила что-то от себя.

Добрая, весёлая, но непоседливая девочка, душа компании, блондинка с карими глазами по имени Ренет Тилли, любовный интерес Майки (она старше него на 1 год). Она ученица-подросток Лорда Симултениуса, учиться на Хранительницу Времени и Измерений. Но, помимо Ренет, у него учатся группа молодых людей, среди которых есть её друг Эрик. Она отлично знает математику, физику и хорошо знает химию и биологию, но её любимый предмет - это история. Она очень хорошо знает этот предмет. И это неудивительно. Всё-таки её учёба связана в основном с временем, поэтому знание этого предмета необходимо.

Но, несмотря на своё любопытство, она не особо усидчива. Из-за скуки Ренет взяла без спроса скипетр времени и измерений своего учителя (Лорд Симултениус). Она спалилась, но сразу же прыгнула в портал, который открыла с помощью скипетра. Но она прыгнула не в прошлое, а в другое измерение. Измерение, в котором живут черепашки-ниндзя. Она хотела обыграть своего учителя, но всё равно не получилось. По моему хэдканону Ренет также живёт в начале 21 века, как и черепахи, просто в другом измерении. Это измерение более технологичное, футуристическое и развитое. Короче, это рай для Донни. Я вдохновлялась тем, как люди из прошлого века представляли начало 21 века минимум. Более футуристический, чем есть на самом деле. В этом измерение йокаи и люди давно общаются и живут вместе, но задолго до этого была война. Это было очень давно. Ещё, в измерении Ренет общаются с жителями других планет и даже других измерений.

P. S. Я не знаю какой год у черепах, но могу предположить, что примерно 2020 (+/- 1 год). Действие сериала происходит в наше время, а выходил он в 2018 году. Судя по твитту одного из создателей сериала, что в начале сериала Эйприл 16, а в фильме 18, проходит примерно 2 года. Следовательно, скорее всего (возможно, я точно не знаю), действие фильма происходит примерно в 2020 году. В общем, Ренет из того же года и века, только в другом измерении.

Сразу напишу об этом, о черепашках не знали в измерении Ренет. Но после их первой встречи, Ренет популяризировала своих новых друзей.

[majesty31]

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝟷/?

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒂/𝒏: 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒂𝒖𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 <𝟑

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝑱𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒃𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟔.𝟑𝒌

𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 →

Moving to forks, where it would rain all the time was something to get used to, even tho I spent the summer here all the time it was still hard to leave my mom and all my friends. For Bella tho, it was harder to adjust, she hadn't been back in a while and what made it even worse for her was that she and our dad didn't have a really good relationship.

Tho my dad could be really awkward, he wasn't around me. Maybe it's because we have a lot in common or it could be because I just don't let things get awkward. I always have something to talk about.

The only other person I knew in forks other than my dad was my childhood best friend Jacob, who I would always spend the summer with. As kids, we were already insertable and it broke the both of us when I packed up and left.

Jacob was over-excited when he heard about me moving back, though when I was gone me and Jacob would still call a lot, always keeping in touch. But over the last few months before we moved back to forks, we had started to drift apart but the day we got there it was like I hadn't left.

Since Jacob went to school on the reservation I ended up not knowing anyone on my first day. This was one of the first times I was happy to have a twin, thus meaning I didn't have to walk the halls alone or eat lunch alone.

It was weird being the new girls. In such a small town where everyone knew everyone, we both stood out. The second we stepped out of the truck all eyes were on us. Yet another thing I forgot to worry about.

But after the first two classes, I was grateful to see my twin's face amongst the crowd. She motioned me over, only then did I see the unfamiliar faces she was sitting with.

I didn't pay much mind to her newfound friends, only did I snap out of my daze when they mentioned the Cullens who I had already heard about in one of my classes. They were the talk of the school until we got here.

Right when I got paired up with Emmit for a project in my history class I knew something was off with him. The first thing I noticed was how pale the boy was, un-normally pale. And maybe he was just a history buff with the way he knew all the answers before looking them up, which didn't seem like he was the type.

But to my surprise, there were more of them. All the same amount of pale.

"Damn talk about pale," I muttered to Bella when the whole pack of Cullens walked through the door. She only nodded in agreement but her eyes wouldn't leave the last boy who had come in alone, Edward they said his name was.

I could already tell my twin was attracted to him but it didn't look one-sided. I could see the way his eyes kept finding hers during lunch, and if I was being honest I didn't like the boy. He seemed too pale to be real.

I had Engish with the boy and of course, the teacher had to sit me next to him. It seemed like in every class there was a Cullen and every time I got either paired up with one or I had to sit next to one. Good thing was he didn't pay me much mind, which I was more than grateful for. As much as I love talking, the one thing I hated was when I met someone who liked it as much as I did. Which so happened to be his brother Emmit.

And this was how the days were most of the time, weeks passed and Bella seemed to talk more and more with the Cullen boy. Every day after school she would tell me the whole story of how they talked about the weather in class, no detail was left in the dust. I knew more about the boy than probably most of the people at school.

And every day I dreaded history class. The one class where Emmit would talk my ear off, and every time I would get the chance to talk, the boy would interpret me or talk over me. This made me hate the Cullen family more and more. The only time I was free of his voice was when I finally got home.

Bella would stay in most nights, talking with mom while I was out with Jacob. I would tell him all about Bella's crush on the Cullen boy and all about how Emmit was driving me crazy which Jacob always found really amusing. But when I was with Jacob I forgot all about my problems that weren't even problems at all, he was like my other half. And even tho Jacob loved to talk as much as I did, for some reason it never bothered me.

Even tho Jacob would tell me about everything that happened in his life, one thing he never shared was how he felt for my sister. I saw the way he always asked for her, the way he would look at her whenever they met, it was obvious. And even as smart as Bella was, she never saw it.

But how could she when her eyes were only on one pale Cullen. And as much as I wanted to bring up that topic, I never did. I knew that if I brought it up Jacob would only grow those feelings inside. So I never voiced it.

Tho I had my own truck, I would always end up driving with Bella. She was a better and safer driver than I was, I had already gotten so many speeding tickets and half of those had been from my dad. Instead of taking my drivers away like a normal cop, he ended up taking my truck away until I was more responsible. As much as I hated it, I also didn't mind spending that extra time with my sister.

"You know pale face over there won't notice you here unless you go and talk to him," I said to Bella from inside the driver seat, door wide open. She looked up from the book in her hands and narrowed her eyes.

"I don't care if he notices me or not. I like reading out here,"

"Right," I scoffed. "You like reading out in the freezing cold while standing in the lot with a bunch of loud teenagers," I said shaking my head when she rolled her eyes. But nonetheless, I let her do what she wanted, even if that meant getting sick just so a guy would notice her.

"Shit," I muttered, ducking my head trying to stay out of sight. Bella looked back, trying to see who I was hiding from.

"Who are you trying to avoid?" She asked, turning her head back to me.

"Emmit. He's been starting to talk to me outside of class and it's driving me crazy," Bella let out a small laugh, she knew all about my hatred for the boy, and just like Jacob, she found it amusing.

"I think he sees you," She laughed as Emmit started waving his hands and motioning me over. I groaned, hitting my head on the driver's seat before I got out of the truck and slowly made my way over to the buff boy.

"What?"

"Hello to you too," He smiled, shaking his head in amusement. "I just wanted to talk to you about the project due next week. If we want to get it finished on time we have to start doing it after school," My face paled, and overwhelming dread started to fill me.

"Maybe if we just do more in class-" I started but he cut me off.

"Still won't be enough time. Looks like you'll be coming over Friday Swan," He ruffled my hair, making me slap his hand away. The scowl on my face only made him laugh.

I turned and angrily walked away, grumbling to myself about how I got into this mess in the first place. If anything the reason we were behind was because of his none stop yapping.

All the anger vanished in my body when I heard the screeching of tires. I jerked my head up, spotting a black van which was speeding through the parking lot.

Bella with her head still stuffed in her book didn't hear the van that was making its way toward her. The only explanation for her deafness was probably that both of her earbuds were in.

Not even thinking twice I raced after my sister, screaming her name but it did no use, the van was too close. I could hear Emmit calling me back but I ignored him. Fear made my heart start pounding in my chest, so loud I could feel it in my ears.

I managed to make it to the other side of the truck, my hands ended up grabbing onto the box of the truck, stopping me in my place. As I was about to race to the other side, someone beat me to it. Like a flash, Edward had made it toward Bella before the van hit.

Confusion and fear hit me all at once when the boy pushed the speeding van away from Bella, making it slam into the side of the truck, most likely leaving a dent. But the place Bella was and the place where she was supposed to get hit was fine, no scratch.

Bella's eyes went wide as she looked at Edward, terrified and confused. His hand that was around her waist slowly slipped away as he got up, his eyes meeting mine before he ran off again. As Bella followed him with her eyes I glanced back at the Cullens who were all staring at the scene shocked.

I tore my gaze away and rushed toward my sister who was slowly taking her earbuds out of her ears, wide eyes meeting mine as I fell down in front of her. I felt down her arms and stomach, trying to see if anything was broken.

"Are you okay?" I asked, worry laced in my voice.

"Y/N–Edward," But before she could finish her sentence we both got flooded with students, all asking the same thing. My brows were furrowed as I stood up, eyes connecting with all of the Cullens as they all stared at me. Bella saw it too.

I sat in the waiting room of the hospital, playing with my fingers as I waited for my sister's checkup to be done. My mind was still playing the scene over and over again in my head, wondering if I had just imagined things. Did I hit my head? No, I couldn't have.

"Y/N?" I heard that all too familiar voice say. I didn't look up, hoping it was my mind playing games with me but when the boy sat down in front of me, dread again filled my body.

I lifted my head, eyes meeting his brown ones. I raised my eyebrows in a way of telling him to get to the point. He tried to hold back his smile, shaking his head like he always did whenever he found me amusing. But before he got to his point I cut in.

"What the hell is with your brother? Does he have some type of superhuman speed or something because that shit that he did only happens in the movies," Emmit was taken aback by my sudden outburst, opening his mouth to say something but again I cut in.

"And don't you dare say I imagined it or that I hit my head. It's two against one buddy, Bella saw it too. So you better tell me what the hell is going on because it's really fracking me out-"

"Whoa, easy there," He looked concerned now, his hands reaching out to me but after a moment of looking at the look on my face, he pulled his hands back. "How about when you come over on Friday I explain everything, yeah?"

After a moment of me staring at him, my eyes narrowing and my breathing calming down, I nodded. A small "Fine," Coming out of my mouth. I noticed Jacob making his way down the hall, looking around, trying to find the right room.

I excused myself and speed-walked toward Jacob. His eyebrows furrowed as I grabbed his shirt and pulled him into an empty hallway, away from Emmit.

"You know people say hi now instead of grabbing them like in the cave days," He said, making me roll my eyes.

"Something weird happened today," I started, ignoring Jacobs's comment. "When I got to the truck I saw something," My eyes went wide. "Something not normal-"

"What?" Jacob interrupted, getting impatient.

"I saw Edward Cullen, run towards Bella and like push the van away," I explained, motioning with my hands. "But he was like really fast, like first he was on one side of the lot and the next thing I knew he was by Bella," Jacob blinked, a smile soon forming.

"Very funny Y/N," He laughed. "Right, he pushed the van away," He said, using air quotes. I scoffed, blinking as I shook my head. But every time I tried to say something he would cut in before I got the chance. "I'm not stupid Y/N, you've tried this on me before,"

"What, no I'm telling the truth-"

"Yeah right," He pushed my face away, laughing.

"No Jacob-" Jacob cut me off by putting his whole hand over my face, he was looking behind me. I slapped his hands away as I turned around, only to see Bella talking with the famous Cullen boy himself.

"What do you think they're talking about?"

"Probably about how he pushed a whole van away from her,"

"No actually, cause he looks pretty pissed,"

"Yeah I would be too if I'd been found out-"

"Oh my god Y/N he didn't push a van away," I turned towards him, pointing my finger in his face.

"You weren't there,"

"Yeah and I still don't believe your bullshit story,"

"It's not bullshit-"

"Y/N, let's go," My dad said, motioning me over.

"You better stop reading your daughter superhuman stories cause she's believing them," I hit Jacobs's shoulder, making him wince.

"Ow," Meanwhile a curtain Cullen overheard what Jacob had said, stopping on the spot only to turn around and place his eyes on Y/N, who was arguing with Jacob, while her dad was pulling the two apart.

The next day thankfully was a Saturday, since my dad still wouldn't give me back my truck I ended up dragging Jacob with me to a library. Ever since that whole thing happened with Edward I was starting to get more and more curious on how he got like that. Super strength and speed weren't normal, and I also knew what I saw, even tho Jacob kept telling me the opposite.

After sighing out almost everything that was supernatural and had the power of strength and speed I went back to Jacobs's place. I had told my dad I was spending the night so this way I could do research for the whole night.

I had made myself a place on the floor, sitting on a fur blanket and one of Jacobs's hoodies that I stole from his closet, the nights here were always freezing. And since his dad wasn't gonna be back today we were both in the living room.

I had my books and laptop on the coffee table, already halfway through the fourth book while writing down notes on my laptop. And with the fireplace lit it made it really cozy.

Jacob tho didn't find this as fun as I did, and after complaining for hours I let him sit on the couch and watch his show on the big screen. It was maybe 3 in the morning when I jumped up, waking up Jacob who had fallen asleep on the couch when I jumped down on top of him.

He groaned, slowly opening his eyes only to glare at me as I hovered over him, eyes wide. I got off of him when he sat up, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes, but before he could say a word I did.

"Do you remember those stories your dad used to tell us about your ancestors?" I asked, making him nod his head, confused. "Well I don't think those are just stories, I think that actually happened here. Which means that the Cullens must be the cold ones he talked about,"

"Think about it, they just moved here from Alaska of all places, they are all siblings but adopted, they are all pale as snow, they have wired coloured eyes, and they never come out when it's sunny. Edward can run super fast and is super strong. It all makes sense," I finished, out of breath. After a moment I sank down on the couch, waiting for Jacobs's reaction.

"I–how did you..." He stopped himself, confusion still plastered on his face. "There's no way those stories are true," He finally said, voice quiet, as if he was unsure.

"I know it's hard to believe but it all adds up," I said, sleep finally starting to settle in me. We were both quiet for what felt like forever before I finally spoke. "I'm gonna go to bed now wolf boy," I laughed, getting up and taking the giant fur blanket with me. Jacobs's eyes followed my form as I made my way toward his room.

Fear rose inside of him, he didn't know if Y/N was kidding or not. He didn't know if he should believe her or not. Finally, after a minute he laughed it off, deciding that this was some sick joke Y/N was playing, and made his way toward his room.

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel of my sister's truck, fear starting to slowly trickle inside of me. Today was Friday, and as promised I was on my way to Emmit Cullens' house. To be completely honest I wouldn't have gone if I didn't find out they were blood-sucking demons, which sounds like I should be saying the opposite.

Fear was the emotion I should be feeling when I turned on the road toward their house but for me, it was more of curiosity than anything else. My eyes kept drifting toward my phone which had the Cullens' address written in my notes.

Even tho Emmit insisted on giving me his number I refused. I couldn't have him texting or calling me, it was already painful having him at school, it'd be even worse if the boy started texting me while I was at home.

Soon a big house made its way into my view after seeing nothing but trees for miles. I could only guess why they had chosen a place so far into the woods. I pulled the truck into the driveway and hit the break before pulling the hand break up.

I grabbed my phone and my bag with all the things we needed for the project before heading toward the house. I sent Emmit a text telling him I was here before knocking on the door.

After a few minutes of standing in the cold the door opened, and to my surprise, it was Rosalie who was standing in front of me instead of the tall buff Cullen I was expecting. She narrowed her eyes before opening the door wider to let me slip past and into the house.

I kept my gasp in as I looked at the house, it was so open and looked just gorgeous. It had windows in all the right spots, leaving a clear view of the forest. If I was rich this would be the house I would go for.

"Swan, you made it," Emmit said as he made his way down the stairs, that same big grin plastered on his face. Even tho I knew what he and his family were I still wasn't scared of them, if they wanted to kill me I'm pretty sure they would have done so already.

"Cullen," I said making him laugh at my serious tone.

"I like this one," I heard Rosalie say from behind me. Surprise filled me as she walked past us and headed up the stairs. Rosalie never liked anyone, at least that was what everyone said.

"Are you just gonna stand there and gawk or are we gonna finish the project?" He asked, teasing me while raising his eyebrows. I glared at him.

"I wasn't gawking you pale idiot," This made him burst into laughter as he headed up the stairs.

"You never fail me, Swan. Don't change," He shook his head as we again walked up another flight of stairs before we came to a white hallway. I took in all the graduation caps that were hung on the wall, making more sense of how old they were.

He opened the door to his room and sat down on his giant bed. The room was plane, nothing on the walls and almost no furniture, other than a dresser that sat lonesome by the wall.

"Let's get this over with,"

After a couple hours of us doing work and Emmit's nonstop talking, we were finally done. I had taken my things and got out of his room in a hurry. Emmit was right at my heels as I made my way down the stairs. I stopped midway as I saw the familiar face. My heart stopped and my face paled. What the hell was she doing here?

"Bella?" She turned around at the sound of my voice, her shock turned into fear.

"Y/N?" I made my way down the rest of the stairs, grabbing her hand and pulling her away. "What are you doing here?" Was her first question.

"I could ask you the same thing?" The previous week she and Edward had gone public which didn't surprise me in the slightest, tho I wasn't fond of the fact that she was dating a vampire that could kill and maybe even turn her whenever he wanted.

She was about to say something but stopped, looking at the place where we had come from before pulling me down the stairs and outside, closing the door behind us.

"Why are you here Y/N? You have to leave," I furrowed my eyebrows.

"I was doing just that until I saw you standing with pale face over there," I motioned toward the house with my head making her sigh in anger.

"Edward and I are dating I have every right to be at his house,"

"Not with his family around," She looked at me confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I cursed to myself in my head, I couldn't exactly tell her that her boyfriend was a blood-sucking demon. That would just be cruel, I had to get her to leave with me.

"You know how I feel about the Cullens-"

"You mean Emmit?"

"Not the point Bella. If I hate Emmit, I hate the whole family," She rolled her eyes, planting her hands on her hips. "Look I just don't feel safe when your alone with people you barely know," Her eyes soften, she reached for me, taking my hands into her own.

"Thank you for worrying about me but you really don't have to. I am perfectly safe here trust me," She seemed so sure that they could be trusted, I felt bad that she didn't know the truth about this family. I knew how stubborn Bella was so I just nodded, not pushing her to come with me when I knew it would do no use. And if she all of the sudden did get sucked up by the Cullens, at least I would be able to bring them down with her.

"Fine, but call me if you feel unsafe okay?" She nodded, a smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into an embrace.

"Is that my truck?" She asked, pulling away from me, a knowing smile on her face. "Didn't dad say you weren't allowed to drive until you were responsible?"

"Hey, don't you go telling dad things he doesn't need or want for your information to hear," She laughed, shaking her head, hands in the air as a sigh of surrender.

"I won't tell," I narrowed my eyes before slowly backing away to the truck.

"Thank you," I yelled as I got into the truck. I watched as she headed back inside. Right as she was out of sight I let a sigh escape. I felt scared that she was alone with them, it didn't feel right to just leave her here when she didn't know what she just got herself into.

Later that day when she had gotten home I tried to get her to talk about what all happened with the Cullens, but she refused to tell me anything. And that's when it started, Bella was slowly pulling further and further away from me, she used to tell me every detail about her and Edward but since the day they made it official, she's been as quiet as a mouse.

It bothered me a lot but what could I do? Forse, her to tell me everything? No. I never ask about her life and she would just think something was wrong if I started to now. So I let her pull herself away, I still kept a close eye on her and the Cullens but everything seemed normal. Too normal.

I started to leave the vampier stuff behind, it didn't matter what they were so long as they weren't hurting anyone. And even tho it scared the shit out of me I kept it to myself. I stopped mentioning it to Jacob which seemed to relieve him.

Over the next couple of months, Jacobs's home was like a second home to me, and his dad became a second dad. I would spend supper with them more than my own family and sleep over more than supposed to, but his dad never seemed to mind. He always said I was like a daughter to him.

And since my dad was always busy with the newfound murder cases that have gone up, he really felt safer if I was with the Black family and not home alone.

But then things started to get weird. I knew how much Bella and Edward were in love, despite the fact that I hated it, so it surprised both me and my dad when she barged into the house announcing that she and Edward broke up.

Me and my dad had exchanged glances before following her up the stairs where she started packing her things. She was rambling on and on about how she wasn't happy here and no matter what both me and my dad said it still did no use.

At this point, my dad was begging her not to go, but then she hit him hard with the same blow mom used, and then she stormed out, with me right on her heels.

"Bella what the hell was that?!" I yelled, causing her to stop in her tracks. I never yelled. I never got mad. And she knew that. But after a little, she put her things in the box of her truck. She opened the truck door but I slammed it shut, causing her to flinch.

"What do you think you're doing? You can't just full-on insult and hurt dad and then just leave. Who do you think you are?" I was angry, and she could see that, but she wasn't about to back down like she usually would whenever I got mad.

"Get out of my way Y/N," She said, trying to open the door again but like before I slammed it shut.

"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on,"

"Y/N. I don't have time for this,"

"I don't care what you have time for. Now tell me before I make you," She glared at me, I could see she was getting impatient.

"Get the hell away from my truck Y/N! You're always standing in my way and it's starting to piss me off, god just let me leave, I don't want this life. I get it you do but don't you come crying to me when you turn into dad with no one to love you and no one who you can love," I was shocked at her tone, at her choice of words, and the way she angry shoved me away, causing me to slip and fall on my butt.

I stared, my eyes filling with tears as she drove out of the driveway like it meant nothing to leave us behind. My dad ran out of the house and crouched down in front of me, the same hurt and shock was dispaled on his face as I'm sure was forming on mine.

The next day Bella was back but she had a broken leg and her arm was slashed. At first, I wouldn't even go see her but after my mom practically dragged me over I ended up forgiving her.

After the summer and we were back at school, things between Bella and Edward changed and soon they ended up breaking up. I was relieved that the family ended up moving away, taking that pale-faced talking machine with them.

Even tho I hated the Cullens it still broke me that they left Bella here torn apart. Edward was her first love and her first boyfriend, so when he left she didn't know how to take it, and like I suspected she took it quietly.

She would sit up in her room for days, and those days ended up turning into weeks, and weeks into months. No matter what I tried she wouldn't leave her room. She wasn't talking to her friends and soon started to fail her classes.

I thought that sleep would do her good but boy was I wrong. The nights were the worst for everyone in the house. Almost every night I would wake up to the sound of Bella screaming, and every night both me and my dad would race to her room and wake her up.

Which only led me to sleep in her bed after she calmed down. This led me to stop having as many sleepovers with Jacob and made me try and fix Bella all on my own.

"You know she should really be trying to get over him," Jacob started as we sat in his truck on our way to go get food. This was the first time in a while since I'd been out, but that was only because Bella decided with a little of a push from both me and my dad to go out with her friends.

"You think I don't know that. I've been trying that for months. I think she really did love that pale-faced bloodsucker," Jacob scoffed.

"You still believe the tribe's story?"

"Yeah. Why else would your dad always tell us them? And besides, the Cullens aren't allowed on the reservation which says a lot," Jacob just rolled his eyes.

"You're so stupid," Before I could insult him back I saw something which made me yell for him to stop. Jacob stopped the truck, looking at me as if I was crazy before I jumped out of the vehicle. My eyes were wide as I crossed the road to get a better look.

"What the–is that Embry?" Jacob who was behind me let out a sigh before he nodded, putting his hands into his jacket pocket.

"Do you remember Sam Uley from when we were kids?" He asked. The name sounded familiar, causing me to think back to when we were younger. Then it hit me. Two years ago when I had come down for the summer, both me and Jacob along with the tribe had this bonfire, and at each bonfire Billy, Jacobs's dad would tell the story of the tribe. I remember Sam because he was always the one who would steal our food as a joke. Tho he always did end up eating it instead of giving it back.

"What about him?"

"Well that guy in the back is Sam," I snapped my head back to the group of boys who were at the edge of a cliff, some of them diving in with the push from others. I noticed a man in the back of the group, laughing along with the others, Sam.

"What the hell..."

"Yeah, that's what I said," He scoffed, shaking his head as he stared at the group of boys. "A little over a year ago Sam started this wired pack thing. He started getting more and more boys to join but I never thought Embry out of everyone would,"

Soon the rest of the boys started jumping into the water causing me to turn away. My eyes lit up in amusement when I saw the look on Jacob's face.

"Wait... are you jealous?" I teased, making him snap his head toward me. At his attempt to save himself, I burst into laughter which led to him hitting the back of my head.

The next day I got woken up by the last person I expected, Bella. As I was half asleep in my bed Bella was going on and on about how she wanted to get out more and try new things. The second she mentioned dirt bikes I sat up, causing a groan to leave my mouth at the sudden force.

I sat in her truck with a headache as she drove the both of us to Jacobs, the truck's box loaded with broken dirt bikes she found at the junck yard. After a quiet drive, we finally made it, my headache only worsened as she jumped out of the truck.

I saw Jacob walk out of the barn, and only when he notched it was Bella and not me he started jogging toward her, a huge grin on his face as he pulled her into a hug. After they pulled away I saw their lips moving before Bella pointed toward me. With concern, Jacob made his way to my side of the truck before opening the door I was leaning on.

"You good Y/N?" He asked as I glared at him for disturbing my peace and warmth. I pulled my hood over my head before I got out of the truck.

"I'm going back to sleep, don't let Bella do anything stupid," I warned, pointing my finger in her direction before I made my way to the house. I said a quick hello to Billy and then collapsed on Jacob's bed, falling asleep.

The next couple of weeks did good for Bella, she was slowly starting to heal the broken heart Edward had left. I could tell how good Jacob was for her and noticed the way she was slowly starting to laugh, smile, and open up again.

But I could also see the effect she was having on Jacob, I already knew that he had a small thing for her last year but now that they are together more often his feeling have time to grow. But I never said anything and just sat there as the two started to bond.

I was sitting on Jacob's couch, a book in hand as Billy sat next to me with the town's paper close to his face. It was just the two of us seeing that Jacob was out watching a movie with Bella and her friends. They had invited me to come but after I found out who was gonna be there I turned them down, much rather wanting to spend the day with Billy instead.

It had been a couple of hours since he left causing me to drift off to sleep. I must have been asleep for maybe 30 minutes before I heard the front door slam shut. I jumped up making the book I was reading a little ago fall to the floor.

Billy looked at Jacob with his brows furrowed, both of us taking in the way he was breathing heavily, and sweating like he had just run a marathon. I was about to stand up but the next words that came out of Billy's mouth stopped me.

"You look weird," Tho Billy didn't mean it like that it still came out sounding like he had insulted his son. As I took his words as concern Jacob took them as if someone had slapped him. His breathing started to become heavier and heavier causing me to look at him with worry.

I tried standing up to see if he was okay but Billy held his arm out, stopping me from making any movement. Billy looked at his son as if he knew exactly what was going on, and soon Jacob ran out of the house.

I followed him out, fear washing over me thinking that something bad had happened to my best friend. Billy was not far behind me, taking my hand and pulling me behind him as we both saw the scene unfold before us.

Jacob's heaving got worse and soon he looked up to the night sky, a sound that was like a growl coming out of his mouth before he ran, jumping into the air but his whole body changed. All his clothes were torn off as his body started growing fur and soon four legs appeared. I was too shocked to move as a giant wolf stood before both me and Billy.

The wolf let out a howl before running off into the woods. Even tho I believed the legends that Billy always told us I was still in shock after seeing my best friend turn into something that terrified me. We both were quiet for a long while before Billy turned toward me, his eyes soft but also concerned, not for his son but for me.