#you (probably) failed out of school and lost all of your friends due to your obsessive magic focus that you couldnt tell them

[paigemathews]

Do you ever think about what Wyatt and Billie’s relationship would look like? I mean, do you ever think that maybe he sees Billie as an omen? A prophesied witch with not only extraordinary power, but projection specifically, that evil has hunted and desired for years, to the point of creating intricate plots to turn them from a young age? (While my Wyatt doesn’t realize yet, the fact that Billie and Wyatt both fell into evil’s clutch in the past? That their redemption came at their sibling’s life? That their deaths can be traced directly to them?)

Imagine Billie post-series, who has lost. honestly, everything in under a year. She went from a confident, headstrong newly-discovered witch determined to save the day to a powerful witch who lost her entire family and was manipulated and used by evil to attack good as a whole. After all of that, I don’t really think that you walk out of that without it becoming a deeply impactful and integral part of your experience.

So a Billie who is more subdued and removed from magical affairs. A Billie who knows the price and risks with magic, especially her own. A Billie who learns how to master her magic, because she’s already seen the consequences of her failures, but there is no real need for it anymore with the lack of demonic attacks. And she is asked, by the sisters who she betrayed and had to earn their trust again, to help teach a witch just like her to control his powers.

Beyond her own experiences, do you think Billie ever told the sisters about Dumain showing her what Wyatt was supposed to “become”? Or did she just chalk it up to his lies and manipulation? And even if she did tell them, do you think that the sisters would be able to tell her? When they themselves never actually knew how bad it was in the unchanged future? When they’re still unsure if they can trust her again and handing her that information includes telling them how, despite all of their power, they could still do nothing as a son/nephew died in front of them?

So she tries to impart how important it is that Wyatt uses his powers for good, not to harm. She trains him to control his power, tries to teach him to respect it as something incredibly dangerous. She conveys over and over again that projection is powerful, but dangerous and if you’re not careful, it can create a lot of harm. She isn’t his only teacher, but she, with her own history and the same power and the knowledge that he will outclass them all and that vision that is bad enough without considering what else he is able to do, is the one who is able to understand best. Piper and Phoebe and Paige are extremely powerful, obviously, but their power is rooted in their bond and that itself helps keep them in check because there is a balance. Billie, her sister (the key) dead and her as the real Ultimate Power, is the closest to knowing what that’s like.

Except Wyatt is Wyatt, his mother and father’s son in everyway but especially his heart. He’s the child who tried to prevent conflict before he was even born. He’s the child who took everyone’s burdens on himself as his to solve before he could even speak. He needed to protect his loved ones, no matter how powerful they individually were. When he failed, he blamed himself. When people struggled, and he couldn’t help them, he blamed himself. Not only does he blame himself for not being able to save or help people, he pins his entire worth as a person on his ability to help. This is the child who thought that he deserved to die because of his father’s grief and inner turmoil, something he wasn’t even to blame for. And he sees so much of himself in Billie, sees her story as a warning if he is to slip to the wrong side, if he is to be blinded to evil and used as a weapon. He takes every message that Billie tries to teach and internalizes it just a little bit too much, takes it just a bit too personally.

And imagine what happens. Billie, who can relate to Wyatt’s potential future just a bit too much, trying to teach him caution and instead teaches him fear. Wyatt, who sees a bit too many similarities in Billie’s past, transforms her lessons of control and innocents into repression and his value. Because they see those similarities, but they don’t quite see the differences and those differences change everything.

[tvhsleb3ww]

FOURTH TIME'S A CHARM! - MIYA ATSUMU

summary miya atsumu had lost hope on finding the one for him after multiple failed relationships before you came along

swearing, suggestive (mentions of getting laid), flirting, light punching(does that count as violent?), pure fluff honestly, some twins bickering

his first girlfriend was when he was 13. he had just gotten popular for being the best setter in the district. surely, many girls had gone up to him and tried to befriend him. he wouldn't deny the attention because we all know miya atsumu loves attention. especially from cute girls his age.

the relationship wasn't long, probably around 3 weeks or so. it was the first time tsumu had broken his piggy bank with his dad's hammer to take out some cash and use them to buy his girlfriend some chocolate.

it ended when tsumu hit puberty and had a terrible break out. the girl was probably freaked and it was the first time tsumu cried over a girl. they never even had the chance to kiss like he had imagined!

the second girlfriend was when he was in his third year of highschool. it was a much more serious relationship and he developed strong feelings for the girl. it was the first time tsumu went on multiple dates and had a girl over.

despite that, he got dumped once again after high school ended and his said girlfriend is going overseas for her studies.

things started to heat up a bit as he reached his early twenties. due to his rising fame from the volleyball industry and his incredibly good looks, women especially models, are interested in him.

likewise, he's not one to deny attention and affection from hot ladies. oh, he loves it.

starting from there, he had a couple flings and hook ups. he even got popular with the supermodel ladies for being amazing in bed. although, he was never one to try and find a relationship.

that changed after he met a girl at a club. he was one hundred percent sure that she was the one. the way she was hitting on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. his breath hitches everytime they interacted and thus it was his first real relationship in a long while.

it lasted for six months or so after he got dumped for a CEO bastard. he then started to think maybe he was never meant to find his other half. maybe he was gonna die alone.

that thought had him awake at night and as much as he is scared of that predicament, he can't really do anything to change it. he just accepted his fate right then and there.

and it all changed when he locked eyes with you.

it was official. osamu had opened his restaurant for approximately two years now! to celebrate this achievement, he had decided to close the store for a day to throw a small party to celebrate.

of course, all his family and friends were invited. atsumu's volleyball team, his friends from high school, his relatives, everyone!

"samu! congrats man!"

tsumu exclaims with a bright smile as he pulls his twin brother into a hug. osamu quickly hugs him back before giving him a punch on the shoulder, making atsumu yelp.

"ey! the hell was that for, ya twerp!?"

he pouted at his brother as osamu just chuckled. osamu crossed his arms over his broad chest, a gentle smile on his face as he watches his twin brother being dramatic as usual.

"that's for bein' late, ya asshat. yer team already started eatin' ages ago"

osamu rolled his eyes as atsumu just chuckles.

"i had somethin' to take care of"

"oh shut yer mouth, i know you've been sleepin' and forgot"

"ey!"

their interaction went on with some laughter and some light punches. the usual miya twin interaction. after some minutes, atsumu had left to join his team at the table.

"hey, you're late! good thing, the food isn't finished yet"

bokuto chirped as he started to prepare a plate for atsumu. he grinned at this, mumbling a small 'thank you' but before he could sit down he's been told to go get some drinks from the counter.

"wha? but a was just about to sit!"

"just take it, that's your punishment for being late"

he pouts and huffs but he goes anyway.

he walks towards the counter and as his fingers wrap around the bottle of sake, a hand was grabbing it too. his eyes widen slightly as he turns his head to take a look at the dude who's taking his drink.

at that moment, he felt like he had died and ascended to heaven because holy fuck was that an angel right beside him? he had never seen anyone this pretty before. and god, her eyes! he could stare into them for as long as he can.

maybe, he was staring for too long with his mouth agape because it caused you to clear your throat to get him back into reality.

"sorry, were you taking this?"

you quickly asked him and for a second there, you could've sworn you saw heart shaped pupils. he immediately took his hand away from the bottle.

"well, i was gonna but it's all yours if you want it, pretty"

he says with a flirty tone added with a flirty wink as he leaned against the counter. your lips curled into a smile at his flirt, cheeks also growing a tad red. you fixed your hair and he swears it's love at first sight.

"thank you"

you mumbled, giving him a smile before you walked away to your table. he sighed dreamily as he watches you from afar. how can someone look so pretty? your hair, your eyes, your body. the way you were staring at him judgingly made his heartbeat skyrocket. he found it so hot and cute.

he never rushed to osamu so fast in his life before. osamu, who had just gone out from the kitchen was quickly pulled into the nearest VIP rooms by his brother.

"hey! what the hell is your deal!?"

osamu groans at his brother. atsumu grabbed his shoulders.

"listen, am askin' ya as yer big brother-"

he rolled his eyes at that, big brother my ass. just by 5 minutes.

"do ya have a friend that's absolutely fuckin' hot and gorgeous ya'd feel like ya died an' saw an angel?"

osamu narrowed his eyes. what an overexaggerated question. he thought about it for a minute.

"are ya talkin' bout (y/n)? i mean, she's the only female friend i have"

(y/n). what a cute name. he sighed dreamily again when he remembered their interaction. osamu raised a brow at this.

"(y/n)? ya mean the girl of ma dreams?"

"ugh, ya lovesick idiot. yer supposed to be celebratin' my achievement not get laid"

atsumu shot him a glare and lets go of his grip on osamu's shoulders.

soon enough, they both leave the room to join the party again. osamu went to see some of his college friends and atsumu had gone to join his team.

on his way, his gaze falls on you. you looked so beautiful under the orange lights of osamu's restaurant and were you talking to his grandmother?

not only beautiful but friendly and good with old people. his heart beats faster when you laughed at whatever his grandma said because you look amazing, fuck.

and at that second, he locked eyes with you. you kept the eye contact with a gentle smile on your lips.

with just a small wink from you, he knows. he knows that he's fallen too deep for you.

[swiftlyinlove]

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

summary: You and Spencer are best friends, but there's always been a little spark between you. When he cancels your plans for Christmas, you're determined to prove that you know him better than anyone else.

warnings: idiots in love, christmas fluff, a little angst if you squint??

word count: approximately 4.5k

a/n: Hi! It's been a long time since I wrote much of anything, but writing this for Christmas has been an absolute joy. I love Spencer so much, and this poor boy just suffers... I wanted to give him a happy ending for Christmas - or a happy beginning. I hope you like it.

The first thing you realized after the beep signaled the end of the phone call was how weird Spencer was acting lately.

To be fair, you two had an unconventional friendship. Due to the nature of his job, Spencer was often busy and therefore you couldn’t communicate as much as you'd like to, but you'd set up a base rule to make sure you never lost touch with one another: mandatory Friday night video call.

Every Friday, without fail, you would Facetime. Spencer wasn’t fond of technology, you were aware, but he’d gladly face his prejudice and lack of knowledge of anything digital if it meant talking to you. It didn't matter if he was home or if he was in another state for a case; come nine pm on a Friday, you two would be catching up about your lives.

That, of course, meant that you'd grasp at every opportunity you could to be with each other. He was in town for a case? You would meet up and have dinner if he had time; if he was doing something important and couldn’t finish it in time for dinner, he would drop by your place at the craziest hour in the morning and lie down next to you, gently shaking you awake to reveal he had gotten take out from your favorite restaurant.

Despite being awakened from your slumber, you would greet him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen - well, after letting out a little shriek of surprise, to which Spencer would respond with an “It’s me, little menace” and a chuckle that would make your heart flutter every time. 

The nickname had originated from your childhood. Spencer didn’t have many friends in middle school, and the fact that he was much smarter than kids his age didn’t help. His classmates either made fun of him or avoided him altogether, but you were… different. 

When you first moved into town, you were very nervous for your first day of school. Making friends was never easy for you, as your peers would deem you rather weird for always having your nose stuck in books. However, you quickly realized you had nothing to worry about - it took one look at little Spencer Reid, reading Crime and Punishment at the lunch table, for you to know you had found your place.

You sat next to him, ignoring the snickers from the so-called “popular kids”. He hesitantly lifted his gaze from the wrinkled pages - you reckoned he had probably read that book many times before -, expecting to see someone with a mean scowl ready to taunt him.

Instead, his wide eyes were met with your bright smile, your rosy cheeks, and your adorable ponytails, and he frowned in confusion. “Hello…?”

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” You greeted him excitedly. There was something about him that made you feel confident, so you continued. “I’m new here and I noticed you were sitting alone. And that seems like a really cool book if you don’t mind me saying, and I just thought you-”

You cut yourself off, realizing you were rambling. You could feel your cheeks warming up, and you were sure you looked as flustered as you were feeling. Before you could even dwell on how embarrassed you felt, Spencer’s lips broke into a smile. 

And that was it. From that moment on, you had been inseparable. Well, perhaps not physically; after all, he was academically way ahead of you and everyone else, and he even managed to graduate from high school at only twelve years old. 

That didn’t stop you from hanging out every moment you could, nor from exchanging letters every single day when he went to college. To this day, you still had those letters, safely tucked into a charming wooden box you kept on your bookshelf, but you’d never tell him that (although you were sure he knew, as the great profiler he was).

So, despite being separated due to your busy jobs - his more than yours - and living in different states, it wasn’t a surprise when you started arranging to spend the holidays together.

Since his mother was still institutionalized, Spencer didn't really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with and therefore didn't care much for the traditions. You, on the other hand, loved the holidays, but since your parents had passed away when you were in college, you were also alone during the season.

Thus, you cut a deal. Every year, he would use his extra vacation days to take a week off around Christmas and you would take turns visiting each other. Usually, you were both very excited about this occasion – it was one of the rare opportunities you had to be together in person, and you missed each other terribly.

This year, though... You had just called Spencer to confirm the date so you could book your flight to Quantico, and he had simply managed to say he couldn’t take time off before hanging up on you.

You were confused by this but chalked it up to it being one of those days for him. Working at the BAU, Spencer had to deal with a lot of gruesome cases often and, after a really bad one, he didn't find any energy to do much of anything.

While he'd never avoided you per se, when those days coincided with your phone calls, you would try to comfort him the best you could, and sometimes even managed to cheer him up a little. 

This time, you didn't even have the chance to, and that threw you off. Still, if Spencer was in a bad mood, maybe he just didn't feel like talking. Not even to you.

Deciding to not push it any further, it's only a few days later that you brought up your trip to Quantico, this time via text. You spent the entire day nearly jumping at your phone each time it vibrated, expecting a notification with his name on it.

It was only later that night that you'd get your answer in the form of an ‘I can't this year’. You read the text over and over again, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, but you had hoped that, once he was in a better mood, he would be just as eager as you for your shared holiday season. 

It occurred to you that perhaps something happened, perhaps he couldn't file for a vacation because he had a big case that he couldn't step away from.

But if that were the case, he would've told you so. He would've explained, apologized even, and tried to schedule another date for your trip to make it up to you. So, you concluded, he just didn't want to see you.

That thought haunted you for the entire week.

Finally having enough of feeling blue and not getting any work done, you decided to go straight to the source in search of answers. Well, source adjacent - Spencer was still replying rather coldly to your texts, so you couldn’t ask him directly. Penelope Garcia was the next best thing.

You had met the members of the BAU after a particularly successful case in your city. Their flight would only leave in the morning and Spencer thought he could take the opportunity to take you to the cinema for a late-night movie, just like the good old days of your adolescence.

However, Penelope and Rossi had other plans. To properly celebrate their hard work that led to saving multiple women who had been kidnapped a few weeks prior, they decided to take the team out for dinner in a nice restaurant.

“And it’s mandatory. It’s not like we have anything else to do tonight, so no excuses.” She had warned in a playfully threatening tone. 

Spencer shifted in his spot while putting away his things in his satchel. After all the years he worked at the BAU, he still hadn’t told his coworkers - his found family, really - about you. It was the one thing he kept close to his chest, the one secret he wanted to keep forever.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he brushed his hair behind his ears, not daring to turn and face the team while he spoke. “I sort of already have plans.”

His voice was so quiet that the team wasn’t sure they had heard him correctly. After a moment of silence, Derek’s lips curled into his (in)famous smirk and he gently nudged Spencer’s side, making the lanky boy turn around to face his friends.

Spencer’s cheeks were flushed and he kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to face the curious expressions on their faces. But when Derek nudged him again, asking him “Who’s the girl?” with such a teasing tone, he couldn’t help but look up.

“She’s just a friend.” He blurted out, eyes immediately widening upon the realization of what he admitted.

While the rest of the team just shrugged it off and dived into their conversations, Derek patted him on the back - the force of which sent Spencer stumbling a few feet forward -, and Penelope lit up like he had just told her that he won the lottery.

“You have to bring her!” Penelope begged, grabbing his arm as they walked towards the door of the local precinct they had been working on for the case. “I want to meet this mystery woman.”

Penelope didn’t say it to him then, but she was sure you weren’t ‘just a friend’. She might’ve not been a profiler, but the look in his eyes when he spoke about you and his hesitation to cancel your plans for the sake of the team made her think that perhaps you were much more special to him than he realized.

Her suspicions were, of course, confirmed when he showed up at the restaurant a few hours later with you in his arms, wearing an elegant black dress and a radiant smile on your face as you whispered something to him, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles.

Spencer tried to feign indignation at your comment, but he couldn’t help but smile as he led you to his friends, who were all watching the interaction with surprise and disbelief. Your laughter calmed when you reached the table, but the smile never fell from your face as Spencer introduced you, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That’s when Penelope knew.

You clicked rather well with his friends. They were, naturally, very curious about you, and you did your best to answer all their questions. Meanwhile, Spencer, who was sitting next to you, placed a hand on your lower back, making sure you didn’t feel overwhelmed under the attentive eyes of his friends.

Penelope and you were a match made in heaven, Spencer reckoned. You quipped back and forth the entire night, even swapping numbers by the end of it, and Spencer even joked that you had found a new favorite FBI agent as you made your way to his car.

Chuckling at his statement, you stopped in your tracks, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to place a tender kiss on his cheek. “You’ll always be my favorite. But she’s a close second.”

Spencer was sure his heart had stopped right then and there and that he had gone to heaven.

Since that night, you frequently called Penelope to talk about numerous things - from the latest TV shows you were both hooked on to recipes for dessert -, but you rarely talked about Spencer. Until today.

“Penny, I need your help.” You blurted out as soon as the blonde answered your call. 

“Woah, woah, calm down my friend,” Penelope answered, amused and slightly worried about the urgency in your tone. “What’s on your pretty little mind?”

All it took for Penelope to know something was wrong was two words. “It’s Spencer.”

“What about boy wonder?” The technical analyst questioned, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

“He’s been acting so cold lately.” You explained, sighing in exhaustion as you plopped down on your couch. “Well, you know how we always arrange to spend the holidays together?”

Penelope hummed in agreement - every year when Spencer would put in a request to take time off during the holidays, she would make sure it was at the top of Strauss’ paperwork, knowing he was doing it for you.

At her approval, you continued. “This year I was supposed to come to Quantico, but every time I try to bring it up, he shuts me down and just says that he can’t. I don’t understand why he’s acting like this and it's been driving me nuts all week.”

The blonde’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at your image on the phone. 

“Are we sure we’re talking about the same person? Because he seemed pretty excited last week. He wouldn’t shut up about how he found the perfect gift for you and how he couldn’t wait to see your face when you opened it.”

This confused you even more, and you frowned as you processed her words. “Yeah, well, this week he can barely text me back. I don’t want anything crazy, Penny, I just want to be with him for Christmas.”

“I don’t know what happened. As far as I can tell, he did put in the request for a vacation.” Penelope replied. Then, her face lit up in realization and she cursed under her breath. “Morgan.”

“Morgan? What does Derek have to do with this?” You asked, more disoriented than ever.

“Wait here,” Penelope said, quickly getting up from her chair and leaving you to stare at her empty office. She returns a few minutes later, looking pretty annoyed, to see you making a cup of coffee in your kitchen.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweet cheeks.” The blonde said apologetically, making your gaze return to your phone, forgotten on the counter as you waited for her.

You quickly picked it up, registering her distressed expression. “What happened?”

“I found out why Reid’s acting like an ass to you.” She replied, her voice softening as she saw the glimmer of worry in your eyes. “It seems like Morgan has done quite a number on him.”

“What do you mean Morgan has done a number on him? What did he do?” You questioned, growing irritated by Penelope’s ability to beat around the bush. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to know what happened.

“I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but since you’re so upset…” Penelope trailed off, pursing her lips. “Morgan better pay me back.”

“Penelope, just spit it out.” You interrupted, your impatience reflected in your tone.

“Fine. I told you Reid wouldn’t shut up about you, and Morgan may or may not have teased him about his feelings for you and it may or may not have caused Spencer to clam up in his shell.” Penelope rushed through her words and you blinked, unsure you had heard her correctly.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as you asked her, “Spencer… Has feelings for me?”

Penelope looked reluctant to answer your questions, clearly not wanting to violate Spencer’s privacy. Ever since she met you, she knew you and the resident FBI genius were destined for each other, but she wanted you to discover on your terms.

“Penny, please.” You sounded out of breath, and it cleared any sign of hesitation on Penelope’s mind. 

“Baby girl, I can’t be the one to tell you that. You have to ask him.” She responded, her voice full of empathy. “But between me and you, I’m pretty sure you know what the answer is.”

Spencer was certain that he was in the 9th circle of hell. 

Ever since Morgan’s comment, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He always knew what you two had was special.  You knew how to make him laugh; Spencer didn’t consider himself to be difficult to entertain, but he could be quite oblivious to his coworkers' jokes sometimes, especially if they were about him. But you? Oh, you managed to make him laugh hysterically with a simple comment, and it endeared him. 

You had been with him through the good and the bad, after all. You were there at his graduation, celebrating his first Ph.D. - and the two that came after that, too - and you were right there by his side when he watched his mother be dragged away to a mental institution, holding his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

That was what he loved most about you. He could always count on you to be there for him. He recalled the first moment he realized you were much more than a friend to him.

It had been after the Tobias Hankel case. Spencer slipped in and out of consciousness as the doctors dragged him through the hospital, murmuring to themselves about testing the drugs in his system and checking his vitals.

His life wasn’t in danger anymore, but he was oh so tired. He had spent days upon days of captivity without a wink of sleep, locked in an empty cabin where he was tortured by two of Tobias’ personalities, and all he could think about between getting tormented and getting drugged was you.

He was sure he was going to die then, and his main concern was that he wouldn’t be able to see your pretty smile again. He would tell you this when you appeared at his bedside a few hours later, claiming that you received a call from the hospital - unsurprisingly, you were each other’s emergency contacts - and had threatened a stewardess to get a ticket to the next plane to Virginia, and you would call him ridiculous for it.

It was only when you were sitting next to him on his hospital bed, his head leaning against your chest as you combed your hands through his hair, that he allowed himself to cry, to reveal how truly scared he had been under Tobias’ hands.

You whispered sweet nothings in his ear as you softly lifted his head, making sure he was looking at you when you softly kissed his tears away. His arms had tightened around you, a silent sign of his gratitude, and he knew then, he knew, you were everything to him.

How could he have not fallen for you after all that? 

But he could never tell you. He had been rejected many times in his life, but if he was to get rejected by you? He was sure his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

So he tried to bury his feelings deep inside him, keeping you a secret from the people who knew him best and, when the time came, introduced you to them. As a friend. Because that’s all that you were. Friends.

When Morgan teased him about his feelings for you, Spencer entered panic mode. If Morgan could see Spencer was madly in love with you, then you could see it too - you could always read him like a book, after all.

And if you hadn’t brought it up… You didn’t want to. He knew you’d never want to hurt him, so the only logical conclusion he could reach was: you don’t feel the same.

He tried his best to avoid you. Cutting you off whenever you brought up your plans for the holidays, replying to your texts with short answers, and even refraining from watching Doctor Who in his free time, because it only reminded him of how you two used to lie on your couch during summer break and watch it together. 

What he didn’t count on was opening his door in mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve and seeing you standing in front of him, coat covered in the snow that was falling outside the comfort of his building and a small smile on your face.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.” You said bashfully, not sure how he would react to your presence. 

“Merry Christmas.” He replied, his breath knocked out of his lungs at how beautiful you looked standing there. He might have fallen in love with you all over again. 

After a beat of silence, he wet his lips, looking at you with the same wide-eyed gaze he greeted you with when you were kids. “What... What are you doing here?”

Your lips curled into a sheepish smile. “What, you thought I was gonna miss Christmas?”

Seeing you in front of him, hearing your voice without the faint static of the phone for the first time in a while… it was surreal to him. He couldn’t help but cave in and wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer into a tight hug.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders just as tightly, your body finally relaxing against his. You could feel his nose nuzzled into your neck, and you smiled against his shoulder.

“I missed you.” You whispered, letting your words linger between the two of you.

“I missed you too.” He whispered back, and you knew he was sincere. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I know.” You breathed in his scent, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder before pulling away. He reluctantly let you go, a remorseful smile on his lips.

Spencer guided you into his apartment, and you took note of how he put up your usual Christmas decorations. “You managed to set up the tree by yourself?” You teased him.

He chuckled, watching as you settled on his couch and patted the space next to you. He promptly followed your lead, sitting down beside you. “Yeah, it was a real challenge.”

Before you could even reply, Spencer reached out to grab your hand, his thumb softly caressing your knuckles to calm his racing mind.

“Look, I’m so sorry. I’ve been stuck in my head lately, and it’s not fair that I treated you like that. We’ve had this tradition forever and I feel like I disrespected it and-” Spencer rambled, and you pressed your lips against his to shut him up.

Your sudden action stunned him, and he couldn’t help but succumb to your spell. Placing his hands on both sides of your face and closing his eyes, he kissed you back as gently and tenderly as he could, feeling you melt against him.

Once you pulled away, his eyes fluttered open, looking at you with a lovestruck, surprised gaze. He seemed to be speechless, which made you giggle.

“I hope that was on your wishlist this Christmas.” You joked, leaning your forehead against his. 

Your gaze softened as you took in his expression. “Penny told me everything. In all seriousness, I understand why you did it.  I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

He gulped, feeling vulnerable under your loving stare. He always got the impression that you could see right through him.

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been in love with you almost my entire life, and when I finally realized it, I was afraid that if I acted on them, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He murmured, his tone growing sadder.

“And when Morgan joked about my feelings for you, I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been as discreet as I thought and perhaps you already knew and didn’t talk about it so you wouldn’t hurt me.” He continued, closing his eyes again as if the mere thought was too painful to bear. 

He took a deep breath, his thumbs starting to slowly brush against your cheekbones. “I didn’t want to face you and find out if it was true, because… Because my heart couldn’t take it.”

You listened quietly to his words, his touch on your skin grounding you and sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It broke your heart to hear him speak like that, as if the mere thought of you feeling the same never crossed his mind, as if it was absurd. 

You knew he had low self-esteem, a permanent scar from all the times he was bullied throughout his life, but his self-deprecating view never ceased to shock you.

“Spencer…” You whispered his name like it was sacred, like he was something to be worshipped, and it made his heart skip a beat. “I know all your favorite songs, how you take your coffee, and your favorite books. In order. I know you. I’d be crazy not to love you.”

You could feel him exhale in relief at your quiet confession, his racing mind finding solace in your words. “Really?”

“Of course.” You replied with a chuckle, leaning forward to press a feather-light peck against his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since we were, like, sixteen. All I ever wanted was to be the one to give you everything you want.”

He smiled as you pulled away once again, thinking about how much time you two had lost while dancing around your feelings. Although, he supposed, it wasn’t lost time - you had spent those years giving each other love, even if it wasn’t necessarily romantic.

“We’re both idiots.” He replied, making you laugh once more. You stood up, grabbing both of his hands and guiding him to the kitchen. He followed you with a bright smile on his face; he would follow you anywhere, he suspected.

“I was thinking I could make those cookies you like and, afterward, we could perhaps… snuggle by the fireplace?” You suggested, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. 

He pretended to think for a moment, before he finally gave in, pressing a delicate kiss against your temple. “Anything you want, little menace.”

Spencer hummed, burying his face further into his neck. “I was thinking of reading a few books. Santa was going to keep me company.”

Later that night, when you were both snuggled up against each other in front of his fireplace while eating the gingerbread cookies you both made, you asked him curiously, “What were you planning to do for Christmas, if I hadn’t shown up?”

You laughed quietly at his admission. “Well, Santa doesn’t know you like I do.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Your genius agreed, peppering little kisses onto your skin. “You’re the best Christmas present ever, do you know that?”

“Yeah? Wait until you see what I actually bought for you.” You replied, a playful smile on your face. “Besides, a little birdie told me you got me the perfect Christmas gift.”

“I’m gonna kill Penelope.” He muttered under his breath, sending you into a fit of laughter. 

Well, maybe this Christmas time

You'll finally realize

That I could be the one

To give you everything you want

[muniimyg]

NICE GUYS FINISH LAST // KNJ

you’re still so pretty

+

strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and then.. strangers again?

navi | m. list | ask me! |

pairing:

med student nam joon + med student oc

au/genre: 

high school sweethearts to exes to ???

fluff !! slight angst

note: cute little one shot in my drafts… idrk whats going on but it’s giving meet cute vibes!!! enj!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

One thing people never talk about is the loneliness that comes hand-in-hand with being ambitious. 

You lose friends, opportunities, and even love. 

Feeling the need to prove the world and others wrong—getting so lost in your strength that you’ve become weak—it’s not a life everyone can live. The exchange of your success came at the cost of having your loved ones as collateral damage. 

Kim Nam Joon was exactly that for you. 

Though you two didn’t end on a sour note, the memories and possibilities of you and him leaves a bittersweet taste in your tongue. Thinking of him, speaking of him, and missing him comes in waves. Yet, with each memory, you gladly drown. 

Others argue that you bloomed late while your parents like to defend you and say you’re too good to settle for anyone less. Your parents, however, kept their mouths shut whenever it came to Nam Joon. 

They liked him. 

He was practically accepted and assumed to be the one you marry… It’s silly, isn’t it? For parents to see stars in their daughter’s eyes at such a young age and understand why. 

From what you can remember, he was a quiet nerd who helped others but was also good at identifying when he was being used. There was a difference. He held your bookbag, dropped you off at class, and always sat with you and your friends at lunch. His friends would tease him about how whipped he was for you and your parents would often bicker about how young you two were to be that inseparable. 

So when it ended—because nothing at the age of 17 really lasts—he didn’t know if it was over or if it was truly over. Partly because you didn’t sound cold when you asked for space and the distance that grew between you two had given you both time to accept the inevitable. Still, when it happened it felt utterly confusing. For weeks, he couldn’t help but wonder if you’d changed your mind before the summer ended and went on to your separate ways… In case you changed your mind—if a single ounce of you wanted to give the long-distance a fucking try—he had a plan. 

The plan.

Calls are to occur every Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday nights. Calling every night might get tiring, but it’s okay if the calls increase due to missing each other. 

Good morning texts every day. 

Visiting each other should be done through turn-taking. He’ll go to you first. 

Fly home every big holiday. 

Shit like that. 

He wondered if you would change your mind before he[‘d have to force himself to get over you. Then, he wondered if you would even think about changing your mind at all. Until suddenly, he realizes that you never even asked.

You probably never even thought about him. 

You two broke up the summer before University. You both told everyone that your dream schools were at opposite ends of the world. Knowing you both could make it; it was hard for others to disagree. However, Nam Joon began to feel a bit of resentment as the breakup became more and more real. Deciding that long-distance would complicate your study and work schedules was a practical decision—but it was not his. 

It was yours. 

He’s almost certain that the decision was made out of 80% of logic, 5% out of love, and 15% out of insecurity.

You’ve never failed anything in your life. Perhaps, love is no exception. 

As the seasons changed, time flew and the breakup felt like a summernight dream. It slowly became a topic that only popped up once in a while, and when it did, you spoke of it like how it felt. It felt kind and sweet. Like the aftertaste of strawberry milk candies and craving for more, like the way you finish a good book where the characters don’t die and nothing feels tragic, but a part of you wishes you hadn’t reached the end. That, if you could, you would reread the pages as if you never knew a thing. You spoke of your puppy love like how love felt; love felt like him. 

The peace you’ve made with your feelings for him suddenly begins to panic as a familiar tall and dimple smile greets you. Cheesy to say, but too difficult to deny—all the memories of him begin to flood your mind as he approaches. 

With his heart on his sleeve, he stands before you. 

“Long time no see, ___.” 

His smile is the same. 

The way his lips curve perfectly reminds you of how they felt against your neck. He had that habit—smiling into a kiss that is. His hair is shaved, earning a good laugh from you. You’ve never seen him so… Manly?

“Kim Nam Joon,” you gush. “Wow, it’s been a while.”

Offering your hand, he stares at it and chuckles. His shoulders are much broader now, so his body language is much more noticeable. It suits him. 

“Too formal, ___.” Nam Joon laughs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. Gently, he places a kiss on your knuckles and squeezes them. To others, this may be forward… To you, it’s just right. He always greeted you like this. A part of your heart is relieved he hasn’t changed that much. “But, yeah... It has been a while. 6 years to be exact!”

“You kept count?” Your eyebrows knit together, teasingly. He gives you a playful irritated look, causing your heart to melt a little. 

“You know what I mean… I just—I didn’t know you were back in Korea. You don’t use social media so it’s a little hard to hear anything about you.” 

To his dismay, it was difficult to get any news from you. Nam Joon would be lying if he said he hadn’t been asking around about you or if he hadn’t stayed up once in a while attempting to find your name on social media. Your closest friends moved on with their lives and careers; no one had time to reminisce on old high school sweethearts. 

Except him. 

“I finished my degree and then came back here for this med program. That was my plan, remember? It was always the plan. Nothing has changed,” you confess. “I thought you’d be way further into med school than me. You always talked about getting it done as fast as possible.”

He shrugs. “I took a gap… For like, 2 years and then failed 1 course… Twice.”

In complete shock, you gasp. “Kim Nam Joon… Failed? Twice at that?”

“It was a tough class! I fucking hate Psychology. Why do we even need it in pre-med? Like—”

You burst into tears. Tears of joy. Laughter, really. 

“Y-you failed… P-psych? The easiest fucking course in the universe?”

Nam Joon shoots you a glare. 

“My prof was crazy.”

“So are you for failing a fucking psych class!”

Nam Joon lets you have your moment. You continue to laugh, having a difficult time believing in his claim. As you continue to make fun, he makes himself comfortable, taking a seat next to you. 

“Are we done? Can we please move on?” Nam Joon groans in embarrassment. 

Composing yourself, you give in to his wish. “Some things never change, huh? You still make me laugh.”

His eyes soften. “You’re mean for using my failure as your source of joy.”

Then, you laugh again. You hit his shoulder, unable to contain your fun. Then, your eyes widen as your hand makes contact with his body.

Unhinged, you tell him, “Holy shit. You’re huge!”

Nam Joon’s eyes widen and he almost chokes on air. 

You turn red. 

“Y-you know what I mean!” You shove him playfully. It makes no difference. You barely moved him. 

Nam Joon then begins to empty his bag. Taking out his laptop, he explains himself. “Ahhh. I met a few friends who are absolute gym rats. If I’m not studying, I’m at the gym with them.”

Teasingly, you gasp again. “Ohhh? So I have no insane drinking party stories to hear from you?” 

Shaking his head with a smug smile, he answers you. “No.. There are definitely some insane drinking party stories for you to hear… Maybe after class? We could grab a cup of coffee and catch up.” He suggests. He isn’t sure what had gotten into him to be so rash, but he missed you. Seeing you again, his body automatically made its way to you.

You nod, feeling a little warm. “Sure! I’ve missed you.” 

 His heart skips a beat. 

He missed you too.

The coffee hangout goes well. 

You catch Nam Joon up with everything you’ve been up to. All the friends and people you’ve met abroad and how you finally learned how to ride a bike at the ripe age of twenty. He teases you for learning so late and you nag him about getting his driver’s license. To which, he said he acquired… Just a month ago. 

At that moment, he feels like nothing has changed even though so much has. 

You were braver. 

A lot more confident with your words and posture and Nam Joon was calmer and oddly a little funnier than you remember. Maybe you missed his quirky jokes and random “fun facts.” Whatever it was, it caused you to exchange numbers and constantly be texting back and forth. 

Suddenly, two months go by, and he’s back to being your best friend. 

You feel like you’re 17 again. Your days with him are filled with late-night study dates and bike rides around his favorite spots on campus. Honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way. For the first time in a while, you finally felt like you were home.

Finally, he had persuaded you to join him and his friends at the gym. Your AirPods are in and you’re running on the treadmill as Jungkook, Seokjin, and Nam Joon crowd around the weights. Nam Joon is spotting Jungkook. As he lifts the heavyweights, Jungkook strikes the conversation first. 

“Are you two getting back together?” 

“What?”

“You and ___,” Jungkook grunts as he finishes his rep. “Everyone is assuming so and I want to be the first one with confirmation... Makes me feel special.”

Nam Joon rolls his eyes and turns to check on you. With longing eyes, he assures his friends: “we’re just friends.”

Seokjin pokes his head in and laughs. “Shut up. Being funny is my thing.”

“Seriously!” Nam Joon urges. “Sure, we talk about the past and all but.. Not about us—nothing about us. And.. And I don’t think she wants to? It’s weird…  And it’s okay. I rather it is like this than to make things awkward and not have her around anymore.” 

Jungkook drops the weights and sighs. 

“Ahh! Exactly my point!” 

He and Seokjin share a look and bump shoulders with Nam Joon. They’re completely aware of how their friend was looking at the girl he had loved once and can’t help but feel like something about this situation felt unfinished. 

“This is fate, you know?” Jungkook insists. “You two were in love and then it wasn’t the right time so you guys broke up. You guys were young back then… It was practical. But, she’s back and you still love her. It’s the right time. Now, this is the part where you try again.”  

Nam Joon can’t help but feel like an idiot.

“Fuck off, Kook,” Nam Joon orders. “It’s over. I’m lucky to even just be her friend again. Besides, she probably has a boyfriend.”

Seokjin squints at Nam Joon in disbelief. “... Well, have you even asked her if she’s seeing someone?”

All three boys look dumbfounded. 

No one knows what to say. 

Would it be weird to ask such a thing? Of course, Nam Joon was curious, but a part of him kind of figured that talking about your current relationship status wouldn’t be the best icebreaker for you two.

“Look man, it doesn’t matter. You’re her ex. Her first boyfriend ever! You have rights.” Jungkook encourages. He picks up his water bottle and begins to chug. 

Seokjin hits Jungkook’s stomach mid-gulp. “Rights? Kook, I think that’s for people who have kids and are having difficulty co-parenting—”

“He has rights!” Jungkook defends sternly. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he pats Nam Joon on the back. “Just ask her if she’s seeing someone… If not, ask her out. Try again.”

“What makes you think I want to try again?” Nam Joon scuffs and his two friends roll their eyes. 

Jungkook and Seokjin share a look. 

“You have been missing her your entire life. She’s back. A few giggles here and there and you ditch us for two months straight… Only to reach out and invite her to our gym to work out with us! No shade, but this is bro time!” Jungkook cries. “Also, you talk about it all the time when you’re 7 shots in. You haven’t had a girlfriend… Since her, right? Just hook-ups and a few flings… But no one is like her and that’s probably why.” Then, Jungkook hits Nam Joon’s head and sighs. 

“No one is her.”

The three turn their attention to you. Two guys approach you and begin a conversation. Nam Joon observes and it causes Jungkook and Seokjin to chuckle. 

“Time is ticking my friend. Tik tok, tik tok…” Jungkook makes an effort to let out a devious laugh. Nam Joon’s eyes begin to glow green and it satisfies his two friends. “Nice guys finish last… Ex boyfriends finish first!”

Jungkook leans towards Seokjin and whispers: “Looks like someone will be pulling ex-boyfriend card soon.” 

With that, Seokjin and Jungkook switch. Seokjin lifts the weights and Jungkook helps to spot him. Nam Joon should look away, but he can’t. His eyes are glued to the way you’re laughing at the two boys who are trying too hard to impress you. 

Mid lift, Seokjin teases Jungkook. 

“You used the term “bro time,” right? You’re such a fucking loser, Kook.”

Nam Joon felt different though. 

He felt like the fucking loser.

Nam Joon doesn’t call or text you as often as he did before. 

Since that gym session, he had begun to act a little distant. Like he was trying to set boundaries or something. It felt odd that his actions felt familiar. You felt a little ache in your heart and your head hurt. 

The past few weeks have not been easy for Nam Joon as well. He felt like an absolute dick for ignoring your warmth. He tried to excuse it by saying that he was too busy with his assignments and studying. So badly does he want to pull away from you; but it felt draining. He wanted to be near you and the fear of you not wanting him back was definitely taking a toll on him. 

It was confusing though. 

In the middle of the night, he’d come over once to give back your textbooks in exchange for a few of his hoodies. It didn’t feel real seeing him at midnight. Some nights, he’d come over a little damp from the midnight rain. As you let him into your place, all you can think to yourself is: damn. I think I’m still in love with this man. 

So, yes. 

It’s been a rough couple of weeks. With each passing day, his presence made you nervous. If his coming over at midnight wasn’t bad enough—it was the 9am’s with him that was worse. It was more about how close you two sat next to each other and how intimate these labs were. With each little moment of fingertips brushing, bumping into each other and him steadying you with his hands on your waist, and the little nose scrunch exchanges—the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy.

Fine.

Maybe you did fail once in your life.

You failed to be honest. You failed to fight for him. You failed to be someone to him that stays.

Nam Joon wasn’t having much fun either. 

You’ve always been so pretty to him. He especially loved whenever you two had study dates because he could watch you furrow your eyebrows, reread the same sentences, and mumble formulas and concepts to yourself over and over again. If he was lucky, he’d look up at the right time and catch you sighing from frustration. Your puffy cheeks and sleepy eyes made his heart soft and confused. To him, it was enchanting to see you so invested. 

Kind of like right now. 

As you look into the microscope, he can’t help but feel nervous. He wants to reach out and move your hair to the side. It’s bothering you and he can tell. He wants to do it, but he hesitates. 

It would be too much, right? He would be crossing the line—especially since you’re the one that broke things off with him.

His thoughts pause as you pull away and blink at him. 

“Oh, shit! I have an interview at a clinic nearby so I can’t stay to help clean up after this. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before we began—“

“___, it’s okay. Go do your thing. I hope you get it.”

Warmly, you smile at him. 

“Thanks, baby—Nam Joon,” you correct yourself, throwing your head back and laughing nervously. In exchange, he stares at you blankly. You clear your throat, trying your best to move past this. “Sorry! For a second, I thought you were my boyfriend again.”

He brushes it off and tells you it’s okay. Again, you go back to looking into the microscope. Focusing on adjusting the lens and pulling away every so often to make notes. 

“Me too,” he says softly. 

Then, you feel it.

He tucks your hair behind your ears. You pretend like his touch didn’t send electric shocks throughout your body and ignore it. Your cheeks instantly flush a rosy pink and spill your secret. 

Nam Joon chuckles, completely in awe of you.

You’re still so pretty to him.

You’re still his.

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐢𝐭

cw: masturbation

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲

you’re defeated. wrapped up and consumed by your solitude and despair at how dire this situation has unfolded to be. you’ve lost all that you have of yourself and this may be the lowest moment in your life. shaking it off, you stand back up, making your way back to your bathroom yet again, to wash your face of these tears. are you really killing yourself to get into a good school?

the cold water sends a shock through your system as it makes contact with your skin as you wash and wash your shame away, failing to scrub the permanent stain etched into your vessel. sighing you raise your head, the droplets plunging down your neck and soaking your shirt. you slowly drop your head, watching the water spread so quickly, drenching your blue t-shirt. it’s almost as if a well has been dug in your heart, carving out all your sentiments and feelings. turning off the water you turn to dry your face before leaving to retreat in your room again.

your room is a lifeless little hole, with no shade or depth of life to it. a simple white-walled room, built to fulfil its purpose. you have no posters, colourful rugs or dangling displays. your mother would say it looks like a zoo either way. pale sunlight strains its way into the room as you sit down on your swivel chair, solemnly placing your glasses on your face today. the really bitter fact about this situation is that you have no form of solace. no girls to lean back on, no one to empathise with your sorrows and situations, no one to fight for you. just yourself. a fundamental truth you have grown to learn. no matter how loved you are, or may think you are, once the seasons change and the time comes, you’ll be alone like you always were. no one will be there when you need them the most, and they shouldn’t have to be. this life is your own, you get what you work for, and it’s not any other way.

sure that belief could've stemmed from the blubbering jealousy you’d feel when seeing a group of girls in the hallway snickering and giggling behind lockers, or groups of friends walking home together talking the entire way. certainly not. because you knew you were right.

the door opens silently, but not quiet enough. it’s like you can feel your mother’s presence hovering from outside your door. her negative aura could easily be recognised by you. “ good afternoon mother.” you greet, momentarily tearing your eyes away from your laptop to look at her. the look on her face is rigid and undecisive on how to treat you today.

“look at your shirt. didn’t know i had a toddler alone in this house. how on earth could you make such a mess of yourselves and be so unbothered? you ruin my reputation, child, you really do.” the wicked words don’t plunge as deep as they used to. they don’t twist the chords of your heart anymore, they simply deflect off of you. she leaves your room, her chilling presence following behind her shortly.

you don’t know why your mother is this way, nor do you care. you have money, you have food, a bed, and yourself. and you’re doing fine, just as how you’ve been doing all your life.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

days roll into the night and your mother is asleep, preparing for her next early shift and the maids are asleep leaving you to be the only person up, again. the issue with tonight is that there are 3 more course assignments due that you want to finish before going to sleep if there’ll even be sleep. but you’re not sure if your mind can carry on with you anymore, you’ve been stuck reading the past few paragraphs over and over and over again, making no progress.

there is only one thing to do. destress.

you click off all of your study websites and open a new incognito tab. you know it probably doesn’t do much, but it’s the feeling of security it provides that makes you use it. your practised fingers type the name of the specific website you’re looking for. after a couple of seconds of slow website loading the erotic home page has taken over your screen. videos of butts and cocks and vaginas are all over the place.

as you scroll you don’t notice anything new, just regular videos with absolutely vile titles of “dumb blond gets fucked by stepfather.” or “petite redhead taught a lesson.” unimpressed you keep scrolling, fearing this is one of the days where the is nothing to watch. until you see it.

a thumbnail of what appears to be a very muscular tan-looking man with dark wavy hair. the still image is focused on his rippling back, the light in the video hitting all the right angles and some woman beneath him. looks promising.

you stand up, checking your door is properly locked before returning to your seat and placing your earbuds in. once you make it past the ads, the video begins. at first, it’s nothing more than sensual kissing and groping on a white sheet bed, nothing unusual. but when the shot angle changes and focuses on the woman sopping cunt getting fiddled with by his large fingers, you start to feel the usual tingle of excitement break from within. his finger movements were so precise, and you could only imagine what that would feel like for you.

eyes glued to the screen, you slip your hand down your pyjama shorts, lifting a leg unto the chair for extra space. you’re biting your lips as you mimic his movement, his strokes, his flicks his pauses. “there’s a good girl.” he purrs on camera, his face still out of the shot. such a shame. your fingers rub faster and you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. you bite your lip to suppress a moan, reminding yourself that it’s late at night. “you like that huh?” he says again, something about his voice, fueling your arousal. you hear your own cunt, drenched in the silence of your room.

He coos again, “You’re so wet f’me baby, want me to slip it in?yh? there’s a good girl.” you watch as he rubs his leaking tip around her entrance, moving slowly as he traces in, before nuzzling the tip inside. you don’t even have to think when your hands do the same thing, slipping into your snug cunt a groan of ecstasy slipping past your lips. your free hand seems to have been groping your breath in the meanwhile, fingers squeezing around your clothed nipple, giving you pleasure.

his ridiculously thick cock pushes in an out of her, struggling to fit itself back in. a thin white layer coating its length as he pumps faster. your free hand now slips under your shirt, holding and squeezing your breast, fiddling with your nipple in your fingers again. the back arches of your chair and you close your eyes sinking into it all, listening to his voice groan in your ear, praising you and calling you sweet things like “ good girl.”

you’re close. you feel it when your walls start clamping down on your fingers and your hips can’t seem to stay still as they rock back and forth. you allow your soft moans to escape your lips as you fall into the building pleasure more. peeking your eyes open to notice he’s got his hand on the other’s head, pushing her down unto their bed as he thrusts into her mercilessly. your gingers brush up against your g spot and your moth goes agape. “you’re close aren’t you, why don’t you come around my dick huh? i want it all over.” his ridiculously attractive voice is distracting you from the fact that this would be over faster than usual times, but you don’t mind. you feel yourself tightening and wondering how much longer you can go on, your fingers slipping in and out at an incredibly fast pace.

“give me the best you’ve got come on.” you’re coming undone, pulling your fingers as your cum flows out of your fluttering hole, rolling down your thighs and drenching your panties and pyjama shorts. “good girl.”

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲

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taglist: @slutkoo

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[eternally-frozen]

Private lessons

Synopsis: Dottore got kicked out of his studies due to various concerns about his psychological wellbeing. You, on the other hand, are currently majoring in biology - human anatomy and psychology. When he met you, you we’re still bright. Eager to learn and eager to follow the school system that ‘withholds’ true knowledge from it’s students. Dottore takes his opportunity to show you how things really work.

Warning: Dottore is crazy. you’re kidnapped but there’s no actual kidnapping scene, he tries to teach you about the brain by showing you a brain, he cuts the skull of a living dude, he also drugged the dude, you vomit, mentions of snot, dark themes in general, awake brain surgery, implied intimacy, hude dead dove do not eat, 

Note: This is a modern setting, but everything is still in Teyvat. The akedemiya doesn’t get mentioned - you go to a different school. No visions mentioned, no clones mentioned. Idk why I wrote this - an angry spirit probably possessed me /j

Song recommendation: In pieces - Madison York

You used to study biology. Human anatomy and psychology, to be specific.

You used to, and somewhere along the way you got acquainted with Zandik.

Perhaps if you weren’t as busy, you wouldn’t have been fooled by his charming façade. Maybe you’d have noticed the obvious insanity in his eyes, Il Dottore, the second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, before it was too late.

But despite all your attempts at resisting, he remains stubborn.

You are so in love with your major, and who’d want that passion to die down because studies are held back due to ‘morals’ and rules.

You can’t imagine his reaction should the moment come where you find the courage to tell him you never wanted to study your major in his way.

Months prior, he crashed into your life like a bullet flying out of its barrel and straight into someone’s chest.

He’d cause a sequence of terrible events, ranging from one of your friends dying in a gang fight – to being disowned by your family after you’d gotten expelled with student loans suddenly driving you into debt.

All you had, was no more. And he was to blame.

Your life was done for, even if he opted to keep you alive for whatever reason he had in his deranged mind.

But, it wasn’t all bad at first. Dottore might’ve seemed like a normal man at some point. A bit intense, but previously never dangerous in your eyes.

He’d been your saviour only a few months ago. If not for him, you’d still be stuck with your thesis. It was mostly your fault for choosing a subject you didn’t particularly like, and yet, he’d spend his free evenings tutoring you, explaining the things you failed to understand with patience and reward.

You used to like talking with him.

At one point he brought you comfort and joy. You couldn’t help but search for his crimson eyes within the crowds of Sumeru city, hoping to catch him before you’d head to your next class.

But everything comes to an end eventually, and when you finished your thesis you stopped visiting him.

You wonder, had your choices been different – had you kept visiting him – would you still be in bliss, unaware of those crimson eyes stalking you?

And despite everyone close to you either dying or getting hurt, he only lost his temper with you once.

It must’ve been a petty argument, you can’t remember what you two had been screaming about, but knowing him, it must’ve been related to your studies.

In the heat of the argument he grabbed you by your arms with enough force to make you fear him. His grip was strong, leaving you no place to escape until you’d finally admitted you were the one in the wrong.

Zandik does not feel any emotions – you know this. His eyes are always distant, thinking about something that’s probably incomprehensible to you. The only time he ever had emotion in his eye was during that argument. Almost like a light returning, if only for a split moment.

It had taken a full week for the bruises to fade away. Not that it mattered much, no one was able to see the bruises on you. Only a few hours after the argument, he made up his mind; he’d take you.

Whatever that light in his eyes was, it had been a clear sign. Somewhere along the way you had provoked him to kidnap you and take you away from everything you knew.  

You have a huge gap in your memories of that time. For you it felt like you woke up in a different nation after the argument with Dottore. When you first woke up and asked him about it, he calmly told you it was your punishment – or whatever that was supposed to mean.

He’d taken you from Sumeru all the way across different nations until he reached his destination in the frozen lands of Snezhnaya. On your first day there he told you his real identity and his affiliations with the Tsarista.

Even with that information, his motivations remained unclear. Confusion floods your mind at night when you lay next to his sleeping body. Why would he keep you by his side? Why does he insists on doing this? Is he toying with you?

You can only imagine him wanting you to lower your guard.

Not that he’d ever let you though.

As hard as it is to admit, He likes you. Your reactions make his heart beat faster and he wildly encourages you to do the craziest things.

A sick smile paints his face whenever you hurl objects at his face, probably entertained by your futile attempts to harm him. Furthermore, the way he condescendingly lures you into discussions only for him to explain why you’re in the wrong.

You hate him.

You really fucking hate him.

The door behind you is locked, you checked it moments before.

Is this another one of his lessons?

“You wanted to learn more about human anatomy, correct?”

Dottore’s voice is steady, never revealing any emotions to you. His eyes move up, watching your glare waver when you meet his crimson gaze. You continue to linger by the exit, despite it being locked.

“No.”

Your voice is weak. It breaks and the tone wavers. Dottore watches your eyes dart around the room. He had made it clear; there’s no exit, not without him granting you one.

And how he loves your wide eyes looking everywhere aside from the person he drugged and laid on an operation table. Your hands are in fists, occasionally clenching together before slightly relaxing again, undoubtedly clampy from the sweat. It’s precious. You’re anxious.

“For someone who is so passionate to study behaviour, you’re awfully weak at acknowledging your own.”

He’s mocks you.

You try to even your breaths, in- and out again. You’re uncertain what he’s trying to teach you. Yesterday he’d gotten a random set of organs for you to study. Today? The drugged man on the table, the tools laid out on a sterile table..

Fuck. You’re so fucked.

Dottore lifts up a pair of latex gloves. White, the same type he made you use yesterday.

His voice continues,

“Did you ever get the joy of participating in the lectures of the human brain? Or did I get you expelled before experiencing them?”

He keeps his relaxed smile but slightly tilts his face down, eyes taunting you to lash out at him.

Still, you reply with as much control as you can muster,

“Yes.” - the basics you know. “I experienced…the first few lectures.”

Your voice trails off as you watch him move around the operation table. He helps the person on the table upright before attaching him to a device, something to keep his head from moving around.

You try to stand your ground. Part of you wants to believe him. He always tells you, ‘You know I can’t hurt you, bunny’.  But what truths do his words hold when he failed that promise long ago?

“Did you know, in the third year or so,-“

You watch him circle around the table. His fingers move down towards the tools, he lifts up something connected to a wire. You can’t see what it is exactly, so you move your eyes back to him.

“They showed us a brain.” He laughs, “Of course not a ‘real’ one.”

He walks around the person, stopping at the end where his head lays. The male in on the operation table tries to move his head up, but the frame keeps his head restricted.

Dottore continues,

“The academia used ones that were preserved and taken from people who lived an average life. They all died at old age, but not before signing a contract to donate their bodies to science once their family had mourned them.”

He waves his hand towards the chair that is placed in the middle of the empty room. It’s facing the side of the operation table. Probably set up to get a clearer view of both the ‘patient’ and Dottore.

“Sit down.”

You gulp down hard. The room itself is big, but smaller than any others you’ve seen.

The manor he resides remains largely unused. By now you’re used to the piles of dust and the spiders that hide in the corners of each room.

When you first explored his home it looked abandoned. Untouched and deprived from anything ‘homey’. But after a week or so, familiar items started to pop up.

Books previously in your possession, ranging from children stories to the sappy romance ones you used as your little escape, they all found its way here. It created a weird sense of safety – and he probably planned it like that.

He had also obtained multiple portraits. There’s one in the grand hall that paints a way too accurate version of yourself next to Dottore, his arm encircled around your waist as you both smile forward.

You hate the paintings.

But the creepiest things he obtained is the collection of stuffed animals that you used to sleep with.

When you first work up in his manor you’d been tucked into a king sized bed with fluffy blankets, multiple pillows and the nostalgic plushies. Your new bedroom was designed like your old one. Similar and comfortable, but after a week he decided to put an end to that safety.

You can only assume he burned the stuffed animals along with the pictures of friends and family that’d long been replaced with his face.

Though, you wonder how he’d gotten them in the first place. Part of you was worried for your family. Had he been at your parents’ home? It couldn’t be, why would he go through all that effort…

The floor creaks as you move your legs forward to the chair. He keeps his gaze on your form, and you return his gaze fiercely. Any form of fear he’ll take as submission, leading to worse ‘lessons’.

Still, your thoughts are less controlled. Will he lunge forward when you sit down? What’s up with the operation setting? What will he gain from this? What’s todays lesson?

He gives you a small smile when you sit down onto the chair. It’s not close enough to the table for you to feel intimidated. You’re still three meters away from Dottore. You pull your legs together and try to pull your dress down more. You feel exposed in the empty room.

You can do this.

“Book.”

You panic for a second and he smirks before tauntingly pointing his index finger towards an item on the floor; the book.

It’s nearby, so you lean down and grab it.

You recognise it. It’s the same one you were studying before he kidnapped you.

You remember the first few chapters. It contains an introduction about the anatomy of the brain, dividing it in parts, telling the reader what each side does, and how the brain works when stimulated in certain circumstances.

You remember only diving deep into the functions of the frontal lobe. You fail to recall them now, you’re too stressed out.

Despite the stress, you’re able to figure out today’s lecture.

Dottore speaks up, “Lesson one,”

His red eyes watch you lift your chin up. Your eyes are wide and shaken. Your chest is heaving up and down as you start to hyperventilate. Dottore’s breaths in deeply and his pupils dilate.

‘Smart girl.’

He inhales sharply though his nose, “A human can undergo a conscious brain surgery. You know how it works, I assume?”

You part your lips slightly, horror in your eyes as you weakly shake your head.

The guy on the table is a male. Average in height and weight. He has no noticeable features and seems to be only a few years older than you. You can see his skull from your position. There’s a dotted line drawn across his forehead.

He’s going to exercise a conscious brain surgery.

“Dottore.” You breath out, eyebrows furrowed together. “Please.”

You only see the side of his face, but you get a clear view of the grin that breaks free.

“Don’t worry. He signed a waiver of agreement to make you feel more at ease.”

He flips on a button and the tool in his hand starts buzzing. You recognise it now, it’s a medical drill, something to cut bones with. When he moves it up to the patient’s skull and you quickly avert your gaze.

You feel bile starting to rise from your stomach and you gag in response. Your fists clench onto the book, trying to keep you grounded. You can hear Dottore’s voice, though the words don’t register in your brain.

Water pools onto your lower eyelid and you lift a hand up to your mouth keep yourself from puking. Your eyes are casted onto the ground. Each inhale though your nose physically hurts. The disgusting aftertaste of vomit remains in the back of your throat.

Is it too late to pray?

The buzzing sounds continue for longer than you like, and when it stops you remain in your position, frozen in place.

You focus on breathing. In, and out again. Your body is trembling and you jolt when you feel two hands place themselves onto your arms.

“Please,” Dottore’s face is only a few inches away from yours. Within his strong grip you’re at his mercy. He watches you struggle a few more seconds before he sternly tells you to quit it.

You let out a pathetic sob, leaning forward into his direction, letting your head fall down in defeat. Tears and snot run down your face. His hold on you is the only thing keeping you from tumbling down onto the ground.

“We will continue this until you’ve properly learnt your stupid biology. It’s up to you to decide how many people get to die. Understood?”

You shake your head weakly. “I can’t.”

He groans, “You must, and you will.”

He releases his grip on your arms. When your body falls forward he puts a hand on your sternum, pushing you back with ease.

His fingerprints burn onto your skin. The latex gloves are no longer sterile, you can feel the blood staining your dress and skin, but you doubt he cares.

Dottore watches as you slowly compose yourself. It takes a bit, but he remains silent.  

“There we go.” He removes the hand that’s been pushing you into the chair. “Wasn’t that hard was it?”

Your eyes remain fixed on the floor for a few more seconds. You listen to Dottore’s footsteps. He’s gone and you feel your body start to tremble again.

You don’t want this. You never wanted this.

Something tells you to look up.

You wish you didn’t.

The upper part of the man’s skull is removed. You have a clear view of the brain that’s been exposed to the air. The removal was done with precision, not a part of his brain is harmed.

A drop of blood floods down from the open part of his skull to his eyes. You watch the male groan weakly in response.

He’s still alive.

Dottore watches your body hit the ground before you vomit. You sob, whine and gag. Your small hands fly all over the place. One placed on the ground, trying to keep yourself from falling into the pool of vomit, while the other is busy wiping away the snot, vomit and tears that fall from your face.

A warm smile creeps up on Dottore’s face as he watches your intense reaction.

“Y/N.” He snaps his fingers once.

You stop your movements.

Are you going to die? Is he mad because you vomited? You lift a shaky hand up to your mouth.

His shoes come in view once again. His head is close to yours, he’s crouching down in front of you.

Time seems to stop as you gaze back into his crimson eyes.

“Hello?” He snaps his fingers in front of you.

You blink and you move your eyes back to the ground. The pool of vomit makes you sick again.

”S…sorry-“ You sob once more.

He rubs his fingers between his brow, a revelation hitting him.

With a somewhat sudden movement he stands up, frightening you and making you sob even harder.

You’re no sight to behold at the moment. Covered in vomit, tears and snot running down your face, and reeking of sweat.

He undoubtedly put himself in a less than favourable situation.

After today he’s going to have to deal with delays in your study and those nightmares that you get.

Whatever.

A small miscalculation on his part.

He takes off his white lab coat and throws it onto the male on the operation table, covering the exposed brain and likely injuring it in the process.

He has no intention to keep the patient.

The experiment had long lost his privilege to live.

Dottore’s experiment started to lose organ functions a few days ago. It’d eventually lead him to die without ever completing the tests Dottore put him under.

Truly unfortunate, but Dottore still gifted the dying man one last gift.

As Dottore turns his attention back to you he realises he might’ve fucked you up a bit though.

No worries.

He’ll patch you up again.

Tomorrow’s lesson can wait for now.

[sweetescapeartist]

DOES TENSHINHAN REALLY TRAIN ALL THE TIME?

The short answer... "NO." The long answer...

DRAGON BALL Z:

In the Cell Saga, Tenshinhan had expressed multiple times that he felt useless. In fact, the guy who many in the DB fandom inaccurately claim trains non-stop actually lost confidence in himself so much so that Tien even REJECTED training in the RoSaT.

Tien could've gotten 1 year's worth of training in 1 day, yet he straight up refused. That alone proves that Tien DOES NOT train all the time like a Saiyan as so many people suggest. They are misinformed or willfully ignorant.

After Goku died, Tien felt depressed & lost some motovation to train (others felt depressed as well). He told his friends that they would probably never see him again. Then, he disappeared for 7 years & only reappeared briefly during the Buu Saga.

Why was Tien absent during majority of the Buu Saga?

Why did Tien choose to stay out of the 3 day battle until the very last moment while being fully aware of the situation from day 1 due to Babidi's telepathy?

TENSHINHAN WAS DEPRESSED & many fans fail to realize this. Tien even calls himself "USELESS" again in the Buu Saga. Tien did not want to join the fight because he had lost his fighting spirit. So, what exactly was Tenshinhan doing during the 7 year time-skip? Well, Toriyama actually tells us what Tenshinhan was doing...

TORIYAMA INTERVIEW:

Toriyama explains in an interview that in addition to Tenshinhan's training, he mostly farms & Chaozu helps him. (Even Yamcha occasionally stops by to help out when he isn't being a freelance bodyguard.)

Read the full article for yourself here.

And when you examine Toriyama's words closely, he says that "[Lunch] wasn't cut out for farming, and Tenshinhan has no interest in romance, so she left after a few days." Lunch was last mentioned to be chasing after Tenshinhan at the begining of the Saiyan Saga. This implies that Tien had actually been farming at some point soon after the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai if not sooner.

Not to mention that "mostly farms" means that Tien does other things too.

Tenshinhan DOES NOT constantly train as many fans falsely claim. The only ones who Toriyama said train all the time are Goku, Vegeta, & Piccolo. And the series supports this statement.

DRAGON BALL SUPER:

The Resurrection F manga & the 7th ending for DBS reaffirm Toriyama's statements that Tenshinhan & Chaozu are indeed farmers.

Furthermore, we are shown in DBS EP 89 that Tenshinhan has also opened his own dojo & is teaching advanced martial arts to 12 students (+ Yurin later).

CONCLUSION

The notion that Tenshinhan trains all the time is purely fan conjecture that is taken as gospel.

Tien has been farming for at the least since the begining of DBZ.

Tien started a martial arts school at some point after the Universe 6 vs Universe 7 Tournament.

Many in the DB fandom don't fact check most statements made in the fandom. Then, they end up believing and regurgitating misinformation. So, HERE ARE THE FACTS! For those of us who know that Tien DOES NOT constantly train, this post/images/links can be used as evidence during disputes & discussions.

I'm tired of this fandom spewing inaccuracies as truth without getting checked. And many falsely claim that Tien trains all the time in order to make the argument that Tien deserved to be the strongest Earthling instead of Krillin & so that others believe the misinformation. They attempt to use Krillin as some sort of stepping stone with false information, but these fans do so at the expense of Tien's character development that they conveniently overlook.

If your feelings aren't validated by facts, then you are wrong. Once you are corrected, you are now right. If you want to be right, often times you have to be corrected.

[EXTRA]

It appears that Toriyama revealed that Tenshinhan was a farmer soon after the Freeza Saga when Freeza came to Earth. Tenshinhan & Chaozu were shown in a mountainous area while wearing clothing that resembles a Chinese winter farmer's attire along with some sort of carrying bag tied around their torso that they store their winter crops in. Not to mention that Trunks arrived in the past during a winter month, so them wearing winter farming attire makes sense given we know they are farmers. {I'm open to being corrected on this nugget of info if needed because I don't have extensive knowledge of historical Chinese attire.}

TENSHINHAN, CHAOZU, YAMCHA, & KRILLIN: They are still marital artists at heart, but there was 7 yrs of peace. If there was no enemy to fight, doesn't retiring from fighting make sense? Although, their retirement was only temporary as we saw in DBS. People hate on Krillin & Yamcha for retiring, yet forget that Tien and Chaozu retired too. All had good reasons to retire, but they all still did some form of martial arts during their retirement even if it wasn't anything too extreme; Krillin training with his wife & being a legal crime fighter without using weapons against armed criminals. Tien & Chaozu training & farming & later starting a martial arts school. Yamcha being a freelance bodyguard & occasionally helping Tien and Chaozu farm (possibly training with them occasionally too).

With Tien being depressed after the Cell Games, it makes sense why Launch still visited him from time to time even if he didn't want a romantic relationship with her. She was another friend to help him out.

[blazedrawsstuff]

Redrew (and slightly redesigned) my girl again! Bio under the "read more"

Full Name Blaze Marie Thorburn

Aliases/Nicknames "Blazie" (Nickname)

Relatives Ezra Thorburn (Mother, deceased) Johnny "John" Thorburn (Father) Ember Thorburn (Older Sister)

Relationships Kenji Sakubara (Senpai) (Boyfriend) Jacob Fairest (Boyfriend) (Friend) Amber Dearest (Girlfriend) (Friend) Dusk Evans (Friend)

(More to be added in the future, maybe)

Affiliation None/Unknown

Occupation Pharmacy Technician (Main Job) Freelance Artist/Animator (Side Job)

Orientation Asexual Biromantic (Male Preference)

Voiceclaim

Luci Christian (Chidori Kaname from Full Metal Panic)

Biographical Information

Age 18

Place of Birth Phoenix, Arizona, USA

Date of Death N/A

Physical Description

Species Fire Demon

Gender Female

Height 5'8

Weight 61.2 kg (134.9 lbs)

Eye Color Brown (Human form) White (Demon form)

Hair Color Brown (Human form) Fire (Demon form)

Personality

Blaze is kind, caring, fun-loving, and passionate. She values her friends and close ones greatly and is more than willing to sacrifice life and limb to keep them safe and happy. If you need someone loyal and headstrong to protect you, she’s your gal!

Unfortunately, like all flames, warm as she can be, she can also be quite volatile. Blaze can quickly become aggressive and irritable when put under stress or otherwise ticked off. She’s also not above getting physical (though thankfully never towards her loved ones, certainly not towards Kenji). 

She also has the mouth of a sailor. The only time she doesn’t swear (outside of “damn” or “hell”) is if she’s around kids.

To say this rage comes from a place of insecurity and hostility would be an understatement. Her unfortunate upbringing thanks to her heritage and powers made her rather dependent on the praise, approval, and affection of others and develop this aggression as a defense/coping mechanism.

This ties into her desire; To be loved and accepted despite her flaws and despite her demonic blood. To have someone who will have her back just as much as she has theirs. Which Kenji does and then some, as such, Blaze loves Kenji dearly, and if need be, she will fight tooth and nail to make sure he is safe and happy.

Biography

Early Life Blaze was born to two fire demons: Ezra and Johnny Thorburn, two years after her sister was born. The family's life was pretty normal, aside from having to hide their demon identities. However, an incident happened when Blaze was 8 years old where they failed to do this, causing Ezra to be exorcised by priests, essentially erasing her from existence. Blaze and her family moved to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (where I imagine FNF takes place in) to get away from the demon-hunts  happening in their home  of Phoenix, Arizona that resulted from the incident. Blaze was bullied in school before the move (and even a bit after), causing her to develop a low self esteem.

Blaze didn't have any friends in school, she shunned humanity and stayed away from social interaction out of fear of future harassment and possible death. After getting enough money from her pharmacy tech job, she moved out of her home into an apartment. 

"Friday Night Funkin: Inferno"* One day, Blaze snaps. It's not exactly known what caused her to snap, but it was probably due to the repressed feelings of anger towards humanity. In her demon form, she set forth to burn down the entire city, which she did succeed in setting ablaze an entire city block. In was in her rampage she met Boyfriend and Girlfriend, who, naturally, challenged her to a rap battle. Blaze was hesitant, but agreed, saying she'll have fun "entertaining your attempt to stop me". 

After "Inferno" Blaze, having lost some of her energy, reverts to her half-demon stage of her form (the human form, but having demon features like tail, white eyes, hands and feet and horns). But still determined to defeat Boyfriend, she continues with "Embers". 

After "Embers", Blaze reverts to her human form and cries, having successfully been talked (or rather "rapped') down from attacking further. After the fire dies down and she explains why she attacked the city. After being forgiven, she and Boyfriend sing "Cinders" as a symbol of their newfound friendship. 

After FNF Inferno Fortunately Blaze was not caught, but she still volunteered to fix the city after her attack. After which, her life pretty much went back to normal, but now with two new friends. Boyfriend and Girlfriend decided to give her a gift that would help her feel less lonely, so they gave her GF's copy of "Dating Simulator". After a bit of tinkering getting the game to work on her laptop, she was able to meet and converse with the now-self-aware Senpai (he became self aware after Week 6). Blaze later released Senpai from the game (cause, again, demon powers) and that's how they officially started dating. 

Abilities

Human Form Blaze can switch between her human and her true demon form on the fly. 

Partial Transformation Blaze can transform parts of her body into their demon form counterparts and vice versa, as shown by her "halfway form" in Embers. 

Pyrokinesis In her demon form, she can control, create, and manipulate fire, as she is a fire demon.

Immortality Naturally, as a demon, she is immortal to aging. While she can still be killed, aging is not a concern for her. 

Supernatural Strength Even in human form, Blaze can pick up things triple times her weight. And her demon form can carry things even heavier than that.

Flight  In her demon form, Blaze can fly at fast speeds like a rocket. 

Lava and Fire Immunity As a fire demon, Blaze cannot be harmed by lava or fire in her demon form.

Songs

Inferno Embers Cinders

[psycholojosh]

Hi, i came across with your account today while I was searching for RPm related journey. I recently passed the board exam (RPm) and I thought after passing it would shed light to the right path I'm supposed to be walking with a 7-inch high heels. I was completely wrong. I've felt lost over the past few weeks and don't know what to do next. Currently, I work as a collector in a small collection group company and tbh I never liked my job. I accepted it because: a) I work with my high school best friends; b) I needed the money to support my parents, as I'm an only child and their sole support; c) I wanted a backup plan in case I failed the exam. Yesterday, my team leader told me na matatanggal ako sa job due to my low performance over the past 5 months. I saw it coming miles away pa lang because I already assessed and evaluated myself. I've been unmotivated, and every morning, the first thing that crosses my mind is, "Am I going to work today?" I was hurt by the news but also relieved, as I had been planning to resign to pursue my license. I was just hesitant to resign because I didn't want them to think I used them. This morning, our HR Manager called me and offered me a position in the HR department, knowing that I passed the exam. Now, I'm stressed because I don't know what to do. I want to pursue the clinical side of psychology, but I don't have the means to do so. If I accept the offer, will I be able to use my license at all? If I push through sa HR field, do you think masasayang lang yung license ko? Kasi that's what I'm afraid of. I’m afraid that all my efforts might not be worth it at all and that everything could go to waste. As an overthinker, I'm also worried about the future renewal of my license. And if I will pursue clinical, i feel like need ko ulit mag-start from scratch. Another job interviews, new adjustments sa culture and sa new co-workers. Is it worth the risk? Ang dami ko kasi need i-consider. Kaya po ba during my 30's na ako mag-start i-pursue ang clinical? I'm 23 and naiisip kong i-pause na lang muna ang clinical dream ko. Masyado na po bang late?

P.S. Sorry, naglabas lang ng stress huhu. Ang dami kong questions. I have no one to talk to kasi feeling ko they wouldn't understand. And if history is any indication, all my friends would probably just say "kaya mo yan, ako nga eh..."

Hello, anon! I resonate with a lot of your questions, thoughts, and feelings that you shared with me. I don't envy your situation, but I also empathize with what you are going through. 🥺

I want to start off by giving you the grace that, despite the outcomes of your previous job, you are doing your best. If I was your boss or manager, I would've still communicated to you my understanding of what it means to be a fresh graduate, and perhaps given you a chance to be heard especially about your career decisions and personal needs. Although, in reality, that's not how many people think and act, especially in a corporate world. I also feel for you that you were put in a tough spot, let alone with many pressures from different directions in your life like one from your family. Family dynamics are a hard thing to break, but figuring out a healthy way of living within it is worth learning too.

Now, onto your questions...

I noticed that you asked about risk and expressed uncertainties over the choices you are considering. To be honest with you, there is no clear line of "right" or "wrong" decisions in real life. At the very least - and I learned this in my existential therapy class - we try to make the "best" decisions out of everything we do. However, as you may slowly learn in your young adulthood, the "best" decision isn't always the most beneficial one. In your case (and this is just an example, not really a piece of advice), choosing to prioritize economic stability over your career development may not be personally beneficial, but can help you get the most basic needs in life. Conversely, pursuing your career advancement dreams could afford you a better life in the future, but there will be struggles on the way there.

I think an effective way of determining what you think is best depends on what you value the most right here, right now AND what reality calls for. So if I may ask you these right back:

How important are your dreams to become psychologist at the moment?

Conversely, how are you and your family faring in terms of finances? Is there a need to stabilize it? Is it really YOUR role to stabilize it? How much of it can you realistically fulfill?

What opportunities do you have or consider to explore? Since you mentioned feeling list, try to get more information on what's there for you. Kailangang factual para manahimik yung anxiety natin. 😉

As you consider these questions, I also want you to think of how much effort are you going to take to take care of yourself. As it stands, it seems like any decision you make will really require some sacrifice. In the process, you may feel tired or overwhelmed, but this is all the more why you have to ground yourself to your own priorities and if your own wellness is one of them. Have your supports ready as well. Otherwise... you might burn out, and I don't want that for you.

There are personal stories that I can offer, although I am not sure how helpful they are to you when making your decision.

Firstly, I personally had a series of jobs and side hustles for income. Since I fund my own graduate studies without family support, I really took upon myself to make a living out of my license, even if I didn't follow the stereotypical HR or corporate jobs as a psychology graduate. I did enter the clinical field at a young age, but I believe that it was out of luck and a leap of faith. To an extent, my plans work out, but there were definitely challenges, like money or personal needs, and crucial mistakes along the way. And there still are. It's part of the growing process. But this journey has really required a lot of determination from me to really want to pursue my master's while I work these unorthodox jobs. So, it really depends on you. Sometimes, a little courage and faith on yourself can do wonders.

Secondly, I know a lot of people who've worked HR and corporate jobs, while taking on master's. Some are even breadwinners or have very important roles in the family. So, I don't think there's really a fault in wanting to achieve financial stability early on before pursuing master's or doing both together. The timeliness of everyone's career path isn't relative. Ika nga ng isang sumisikat na girl group, "Buhay ay 'di karera..." As cliche as that sounds, it's a helpful thing to think about (or sing). Also, hindi siguro masasayang license mo, if it means more advantages during hiring or retention (i.e., higher salary).

I guess what I want to say with these two things is that what your worries are valid, but you may be overthinking things too much. Start with understanding what you want and take things a step at a time when working out a plan for yourself. When I was your age, I had this elaborate plan that expands 10 years ahead. But as an older 20-something, I can tell you that even just a plan for tomorrow, the next week, the next month, or the next year is already just as exciting as a longer-term one.

You can do it. I wish you all the best! And if you wanna ask again, don't be afraid. 😊🌻

[tojiscrack]

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋: 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑

summary: 18.1k words — you and the rest of your friend group experience all the changes and activities that high school has to offer.

notes: so during the making of this chapter, i put up a poll where i left it up to my little liars (you guys) on what colour the school should be. as much as i absolutely HATED that the majority of you picked blue over red (i'm still salty about it) i'm glad 132 of you actually participated in the vote. now enjoy this monstrosity.

tw: swearing, mention of dicks, mention of suicide in a metaphor, and that's probably it lmao

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2017-2018 freshman year

"i don't like this."

"nobody cares, porcupine."

the two of you were currently sat in satoru's — correction: mr gojo's — office at school. it was orientation week and both you and megumi had collected your ID cards and your locker numbers. you were yet to receive your timetable for the coming year, but you were certain that they'd hand it to you some time this week, seeing as freshman year officially started in the coming week.

megumi had put up a pretty stubborn front when it came to admiring the larger corridors and the midnight blue lockers littered around the entire school (which was pretty massive, you had to note). you imagined that it would be terribly easy to get lost in, with the corridors no longer as narrow as the ones back in your middle school and with several other buildings attached to the main one in order to make room for specific departments for specific subjects. currently, you found yourself in the science department, satoru's — mr gojo's — expertise, fiddling with the new keys you'd have to take extra care of.

you'd read about jujutsu high all over the internet (and heard quite a lot about it from satoru himself). apparently, he, ieiri, and suguru attended here back in their youth. the pictures you'd seen in his camera roll, and on several polaroids, indicated that it had been a really good time ("the best time of my life," satoru would never fail to remind you). changing schools for the third time had become much easier knowing that you might experience everything that they did. it also didn't hurt that high school lasted for four long years. there were plenty of things you could do to make tons of memories in that time, especially due to the fact that yuji and nobara had both found seats in jujutsu high too.

sato— mr gojo's office was pretty decent. the walls around you were littered with several display boards showcasing a bunch of his students' work and diagrams of subcellular structures. he clearly took pride in his teaching, even if he randomly spurts out that he'd rather have their yearbook pictures up instead. apparently they had been horrendous, but a good laugh all the same. though, you'd hate to think what this man would do after you and megumi left the school. probably put up our identification pictures, you thought with a grimace.

"so," he'd said, leaning back in his spinning chair with a grin, "you nervous?"

as megumi eyed the display boards with a look of concentration you'd only seen on him when he would read the questions presented to him in an exam, you answered cheerfully.

"excited, mainly." you were seated on the chair opposite your future teacher. "but megumi was throwing a fit about it on the way here —"

"i was not," he harshly interrupted you. you did not have to look over your shoulder to tell that he was glaring at the back of your head.

sa— mr gojo paid his reaction no mind, only continued to tease him as though he hadn't spoken at all.

"i can tell! you look kinda roughed up, kid," he said, and you nearly laughed when megumi patted down his haywire hair as if it were a new thing for it to be standing on different ends. mr gojo merely flashed him a toothy smile. "i mean, that picture on your ID card —"

"that wasn't my fault," megumi snapped coldly, fiddling with his lanyard that was falling out of the pocket of his pants. "the lady kept telling me to smile."

you perked up excitedly. "but get this: he told her that is him smiling."

the picture itself was megumi being typical megumi, a bored expression that could very well be mistaken for anger. you'd never let him hear the end of it. mr gojo threw his head back and laughed.

"i'm leaving —"

"okay, okay, we're sorry!" you said hurriedly, sitting up in your chair because slouching meant that you wouldn't be able to turn and face your friend with urgency.

megumi glowered at you, but did not leave. you took that as a win as he came to stand behind you, eyes narrowed at s— mr gojo.

"i hope we get ieiri as our teacher," he grumbled, because apparently, ieiri had also taken a job here to teach.

mr gojo, looking mildly offended, simply laughed his statement off, tilting his head forward to present his weirdly-blue eyes to the two of you behind his sunglasses. you wished someone would get this man brown contacts.

"keep an eye out for your timetables, yeah?" he responded, his tone all too teasing.

you did not mind having mr gojo as a teacher, to be perfectly honest. as annoying as he could be, he was extremely laidback and matched your humour in ways many adults could not. megumi might hate him, but you supposed that it was only because you and mr gojo would team up to make fun of him, no matter the situation. there were, however, instances where you thought megumi didn't actually hate him. not really, at least. but that was a story for another time.

sitting up straight, your back to the head of the chair, you tilted your head slightly. "wait... did you do something so that we'd be the unlucky few to have you as our teacher?"

mr gojo's lips pursed. if it hadn't been for his sunglasses, you supposed that his eyes were probably wide enough to give you a shock wave and send you straight to a hospital bed.

"why would you be unlucky to have me as your teacher?" he demanded, clearly offended.

mr gojo had always put himself on this pedestal where nobody could ever find him anything but endearing. in short, he truly believed that he was above everyone and that if you have a class with him, you should be grateful, if anything.

you barely had time to respond before megumi cut in coldly:

"you'd lose your own head if it wasn't screwed on tight."

mr gojo raised a brow at him, pulling out a small mirror from his desk drawer and holding it up to take long glances at himself. "how could i ever lose such a beautiful thing?"

megumi looked as though he wanted to shatter the mirror and everything else in the room just from louring.

"you keep a mirror in your office?" you questioned, confused.

mr gojo lowered the mirror and frowned. "you don't?"

"millennials," you heard megumi sigh from behind you.

mr gojo tucked the mirror away and fiddled with the framed picture he seemed to have propped up on his desk, its back facing you. since both you and megumi had entered his office, he seemed reluctant to show it to the both of you, storing it away with a cheeky grin you felt meant trouble. even now, he seemed to be taking glances at it and chuckling to himself, as if the two of you were part of an inside joke you had no knowledge of.

with the framed picture now resting on his lap, cleanly out of your sight, he looked up at you, lazily spinning on his chair.

"are you guys taking any extra-curriculars here?" he asked, perhaps the first ever serious question he'd posed to you that day.

"no, not me," you answered truthfully. you actually hadn't even given it a slight bit of thought. "but megumi wants to take football!"

mr gojo beamed. "really?"

megumi nodded. "heard they had a good pitch and everything."

"great coach too," the white haired male added. "the old one left last year. i had to fill in for him till the new one came around. you'll like him."

in saying that, you had expected his gaze to be directed at megumi, who had shown genuine interest in the sport. however, his head had lowered ever so slightly, showing that he was looking at you instead; you, who had shown no interest in taking an extra-curricular, namely football, at all.

"were you on the football team when you were here?" asked megumi, the harsh tone he usually used with mr gojo now lowered and at ease.

mr gojo shot him a lazy grin. "nah, i did basketball."

"so why did you fill in for the football team then?"

"i'm not bad at football," he said calmly, but you already knew that seeing as the annual family football game was usually dominated by either him or toji. but for once, he didn't sound cocky about it either. "i'm really good at it, obviously. i just prefer basketball."

before either of you could respond, the door behind you opened abruptly. annoyance ran through you, swift as an arrow, for the conversation had just begun to get interesting. all three of you peered at the door, watching as a head of a blonde, stern woman popped through the gap, lips pursing at the sight of you and megumi.

"no students allowed in the teacher's lounge, mr gojo," the woman had stated icily.

you decided that whoever this karen was, you didn't like her much. she stirred up old memories of a teacher from kindergarten that you weren't too fond of, and judging by the bored look on megumi's face, you were certain that he also agreed (a rare occurrence, seeing as the two of you were usually on opposing ends of several arguments).

mr gojo didn't look too pleased at the interruption either. already slouching in his chair as it was, he barely sat up straight to respond to her.

"i'm their legal guardian," he sneered, discontent. "and this is my office."

the woman, clearly disoriented, left without another word. you let out a low whistle.

"who was that beauty?" you said, looking back at mr gojo with raised brows.

"i like to call her negative nancy," he said, before standing up and walking around his desk to gesture to the door, ushering you out. "but anyway, you should check out the football pitch! i think the new coach is out there too, it'd be good to introduce yourselves!"

you and megumi made your way over to the door, a sense of delirium washing over you. the one major thing you'd been looking forward to out of everything was the football pitch and the late night games that would take place. due to mai showing you several clips of how rowdy the games could get, you only wished that high school would come sooner in order to experience it all in real time.

as the two of you made your way down to the football pitch, passing several classrooms filled with people listening intently to an adult doing a speech, you spotted tsumiki leading a line of students down to what looked like the school library. you instinctively glanced at megumi.

"she's part of the student council," he reminded you, continuing to walk past the library and then outside the building. "she has to help out with this stuff."

"ooh, maybe i could do that too," you commented determinedly.

megumi looked down at you, monotonous.

"you have to be elected in."

"that's no big deal!"

"no one would vote for you," he said at last, continuing to walk and not stopping even though you had, stumped and stupefied.

"that's rude, porcupine!"

he ignored you, figuring that you'd follow him eventually; you did.

it wasn't long before your constant bickering had lead you to the football pitch in no time... and it was everything you'd imagined and more.

it was like any old football field, but wider, larger, bigger: surrounding the field of grass was the running track that went round in one giant oval. behind you were the seats, benches upon benches that went higher with each step in order to make space for every viewer to sit comfortably. the field itself was adorned with several white lines, each marked with expert precision, ready and prepared for any football game that would take place. on much higher ground, behind the benches, was a wide, dark blue building, with speakers attached to the left, middle, and right sides of the roof. it was also adorned with several massive windows on the front, allowing you to see that the inside also had seats. you squinted your eyes to clear your vision a bit and found that there was a microphone for each chair.

"i was hoping for the school to be red, like the one your mom wanted us to go to," you stated, eyeing the blue on the benches with disgust. 

"i like blue," megumi countered calmly. 

you scowled at him. "no, red is better. who the hell made the decision to decorate it all blue?"

megumi stared off into the distance, breaking the fourth wall and peering at the people who were left the responsibility to make the choice, deadpanned.

until you broke the silence, tugging on the arm of his shirt to grab his attention.

"am i seeing things or is there someone standing over there?" you asked quietly, pointing at the figure standing in the middle of the field, unmoving. 

you and megumi were on the pink track, therefore the distance between the two of you and the mysterious person in the centre of the field was great. you wouldn't be at fault for making a mistake with your presumption.

 "probably the new coach," your stoic friend responded, simultaneously leering at the person. 

upon further inspection, it looked to be a pretty tall man, perhaps tall enough to be at even satoru's height (and satoru was pretty damn tall, which he never let anyone forget).

"let's go," said megumi, turning away to leave the pitch.

you hadn't moved, blinking at him in confusion. 

"you don't want to introduce yourself?" you questioned, addled.

megumi shook his head; you sighed exaggeratedly and pulled him in by his arm. surprisingly, you didn't need to put any extra effort in doing so: megumi put up no fight when you dragged him along.

"don't be so shy, porcupine," you said, your tone teasing because you knew pretty well that he wouldn't like it one bit. hell would freeze over before you ever neglected a single day of annoying him till he snapped. "the emo in you is showing."

"i'll hit you."

"you wouldn't," you sang, and weren't surprised when he didn't argue with you on that. "now c'mon, malakai —"

"you're really testing my patience, mermaid —"

but you'd found no time to start a brawl with him (as you usually would) at his cruel comment. instead, you stopped dead in your tracks, your arms still wrapped around one of megumi's against your torso, but your eyes were no longer focused on him. instead, you were ogling at something in front of you, namely the peculiar being that the two of you had questioned only a few minutes prior. 

you felt megumi's free hand poke at your cheek.

"what's wrong with you—"

"MASAMICHI?" you yelled, uncaring of the fact that your emo friend had flinched at the sudden volume of your voice. 

initially, megumi had thought your cry of the name of your former p.e teacher from middle school was a mistake. after all, there were numerous times in the long years that he'd known you where you were wrong, whether it be in an argument, a factual comment, or even your opinion on something (he held no regard for the fact that an opinion can't actually be wrong, but you were always an exception for him). however, when the figure at the centre of the field became stiff with your call, he had a pressing feeling that today must've been the night of the blue moon or something: you were actually right.

"MASAMICHI YAGA!" you repeated, louder and with less questioning in your voice. 

megumi's arm had become loose in your hold, he slowly took it back, grateful for the distraction. you didn't mind.

the man had finally turned around as you hurriedly dived forward, more excitement in you at the idea that your favourite former teacher (no matter how many times he'd yelled at you) had followed you here! you had to be dreaming, there was no way this was happening.

coach yaga's appearance had changed over the years since you'd first met him. he was still as tall as ever with a muscular frame and tanned skin. though what stuck out to you the most was his hair. where it used to lie flat on his head, barely any to run his hands through, now he was sporting some that were flying up on different ends, short yet spiky. the rest of his head had remained shaved.

the final thing, along with his frame, moustache and goatee combination that had remained the same, was the tired, annoyed, and exasperated expression on his face, as if simply being in your presence was a chore.

"megumi, pinch me," you said once you'd arrived in front of your former teacher, staring up at him in awe.

"gladly," your friend had responded.

from the corner of your eye, you could see his hand flying towards yours — you slapped it away without a second thought or a single glance. 

"of all the high schools you could've gone to," coach yaga sighed, staring down at you as if you were the bane of his existence (you might as well have been), "it's the one i happened to join this year."

"right?" you perked up, thrilled. "isn't that great?"

megumi thought he looked anything but thrilled. he seemed to be questioning his choice in partaking in that long process of application forms and interviews for the job here, clearly. and when megumi caught a glimpse of you, practically buzzing with excitement, it was as if all the memories of your troublesome nature had come flooding back to him in one go. he thought he understood what coach yaga was so distraught about. he thinks he might have even experienced it once or twice.

coach yaga seemed to have come to terms with it, for he let out a long, drawn out sigh and then turned to face megumi with a critical look.

"you been practicing over the summer, fushiguro?" he said, voice gruff and stern. "you once said you wanted to take football properly in high school. you haven't changed your mind, have you?"

"no."

coach yaga regarded him stoically. 

"don't bother turning up to try-outs," he'd said after a few seconds of merely nodding. "you're on the team."

you felt megumi stiffen up beside you, so when you looked up at him, gauging out his expression, you were concerned to see that he'd completely frozen, and not even with a half-smile curling at his lips whenever he was secretly happy about something. megumi's face was morphed into an expression of distress, you might even say that it bordered annoyance. 

you couldn't help but question why: he'd been given a free position on the football team without even having to (as a theatre kid would see it) audition for the part. 

unless he was being righteous again, which always managed to irk you to a certain degree. uncle ogi called him foolish because of it, yet his mother had called him an angel. 

"favouritism!" you accused, pointing at him in shock. "masamichi is doing favouritism!"

"if you don't lower your voice, girl —" your former teacher threatened, raising a fist at you, though you knew it was a completely empty threat.

ah, this was the teacher you remembered. 

"...and it's coach yaga to you, for the millionth time." 

"sorry, but i can't accept that," megumi had intervened (though that probably was not the right word for it, seeing as the topic was centred around him to begin with).

both your heads had turned to face him. it was, perhaps, the first time that you and coach yaga could see eye-to-eye on something: you weren't happy with megumi's refusal to the offer. you couldn't understand it. 

megumi was incredibly good at football. in fact, you had so much faith in him, you were certain that even if he did take part in try-outs, he'd get in without question. you had no doubt about it. so why, you thought in your head, ready to voice it if need be, did he have to go on this whole righteous tangent if the offer could save time for both him and coach yaga?

"what the hell do you mean by that?" snapped coach yaga. "you were on my team last year, different school, but my team nonetheless. you've got a talent, i don't need to see it again to decide. you're on the team, that's final."

"you can decide after i turn up to try-outs," said megumi, clearly unmoving on his view. "it's only fair."

"fair?" sputtered coach yaga, as if he hadn't heard of the word in his entire life. you couldn't blame him, simmering in silence as you watched the interaction between them with irritation. "life's not fair, boy! you're on the team. i saw the line-up for the team last year: inumaki's on it, so you'll have a familiar face to work with."

"that doesn't matter," megumi stubbornly continued. "yuji's coming here too."

"well you can tell him he's on the team too, then," said coach yaga, also stubborn. 

megumi glowered at him. "i'm not doing that —"

"then i will!" you added, pulling out your phone from the pocket of your jeans and hurriedly opening up your texts with yuji. 

you could feel two holes being burned into your left cheek where megumi was glaring daggers at you, but you didn't care. you were happy for him and yuji. it was a moment to be proud of. the two were so good at the sport, that coach yaga felt the need to eliminate them from even trying out for the team, insisting that they were that talented. this, if anything, was something to celebrate. you knew that megumi would probably hold a grudge against coach yaga for the rest of his miserable life, but you were also aware of the fact that your grumpy teacher just simply would not care. so long as he has a winning team in his hands, he could not care less. that, you were grateful for.

in the end, like you had expected, megumi gave in (though not without a word; it was routine for him to complain about something) albeit reluctantly. later that day, when you met up with yuji and nobara, your pink haired friend had been as ecstatic as you, only to feel guilty at the look on megumi's face. one righteous grump was enough, how had he influenced yuji to be the same (minus the being-grumpy part)?

as the week continued to roll on — and you began to question when it was that they'd finally hand you your timetables — all four of you had found yourselves sitting around a table at the school, your first official day as a high schooler, excited...

only to deflate the second you examined megumi's sheet, eyes darting left and right, up and down, just to go on repeat.

"megumi!" you gasped, feeling more disappointed than angry.

the only classes that you shared with megumi, out of the nine that you were in, were chemistry, biology, and math. you didn't even share the same homeroom, and aside from the three mentioned, the only time you would be able to see him again would be during study-hall and lunch, all of which were not nearly long enough to compensate for the time lost with each other.

eyes bulging out of their sockets, when you'd darted them to ogle at your dear friend, you thought he seemed to be thinking the same thing. megumi never usually smiled, so it wasn't a shock when his lips pressed themselves into a thin line, but you could differentiate each and every one of his expressions as if they were your own, and megumi (though he'd never admit it) was not pleased with the arrangement of each of your timetables. 

at all.

"this is all your fault," you said, shaking his timetable aggressively. he snatched it out of your hands with a look of irritation. you let him. "what did you have to go and pick business for?"

he glowered at you. "can you imagine me on stage doing performing arts?"

"of course i can!" you snapped, waving a hand dismissively. "i literally edited you on a stage once, don't you remember —"

"you did?" yuji perked up, to megumi's annoyance. "show it to us!"

"yeah, let's see!" added nobara, extending her arm across the table and making a 'hand it over' motion.

"let's not see," megumi interrupted icily, slapping nobara's hand away with enough force, the sound reverberated around the hall; nobara hadn't taken that lightly either, kicking him under the table with an expression of pain and vexation.

you ignored them all, staring down at his timetable, which you'd swiftly swiped off the table again, with confusion. how was it possible that you only shared three classes with him? it seemed that these classes were based off of the end of year exams from middle school, and megumi was at the top of the class for everything, to no one's surprise. but so were you, except for math. last year, the only reason you passed with flying colours was because of megumi, because even though he'd made rude and judgemental comments when tutoring you, he actually happened to be a very good teacher.

the thought did not compute to you. when you'd compared your timetables with yuji and nobara's, you'd been over the moon at the fact that you shared several classes with them, whether it be individually or as a group. it wasn't mentioned enough (mainly because you were quite careless about it) but you had done just as well as megumi in the exams for every other subject, so why were you in only three classes with him?

clearly you'd committed a terrible crime in your past life to be punished with such a sentence. who else will blame megumi for the funny writing on the board the second everyone enters the class? who, other than you, will frame him for the aeroplanes thrown at that one kid you despised for being so cruel for no apparent reason? who, but you, will provoke him enough to start a dictionary fight from two opposite ends of the classroom simply because his angry face was belly-ache-laughter inducing?

from the looks of it, it seemed that you'd have to pass the torch on to yuji. you did always think he would be your replacement... ever since you first met the annoyance.

"this isn't fair," you sighed.

megumi agreed, shaking his head, monotoned and bored. "yeah it's just not fair."

"anyway, megumi might physically abuse me if i show it to you guys right now," you said, changing the subject begrudgingly, only to smile just as soon as a lightbulb flicked on over your head. "but satoru has a ton of pictures of him from our christmas play back in elementary school!"

you did not have to glance at megumi to know that he was scowling (what was new?). yuji beamed at your statement, eyes sparkling with curiosity that was certainly not mild enough to restrain him from demanding that you send every single one of those images to him.

"did you play baby jesus?" he asked loudly, smiling from ear-to-ear as he awaited megumi's response.

"you're intellectually challenged," your dark haired friend snapped, visibly irked at the way you and nobara laughed at the thought of little megumi, ever the grumpy one, playing baby jesus. "how the hell would anyone play a new born?"

"just... wrap them in a towel or something," yuji suggested, though he sounded less passionate now that megumi had set the record straight. if it wasn't yuji, you might have actually felt bad. 

"so what did you play then?" nobara swiftly questioned. "the shepherds?"

"maybe he played the livestock!" yuji perked up excitedly, turning to you for confirmation. he seemd to have effectively recovered from the disheartening moment of being told he wasn't very clever. "he's always loved animals, right?"

megumi let out an exhale of disbelief. "the hell makes you think i wanted to be one?"

"wouldn't put it past you," scoffed nobara. "didn't you try and stay at the zoo when your family went to visit, like, a decade ago?"

surprised at the prospect of megumi's head remaining in tact with his neck due to how fast he'd snapped it round to face you in apparent annoyance, you did not meet his gaze, resting your chin on your hands held up by the table, still examining his timetable that you hadn't returned.

"why'd you tell her?" he questioned, when it became crystal clear that you had no intention of voicing the elephant in the room. 

"it was supposed to be a secret?" you replied, looking up at him with faux innocence. but megumi knew you, and he knew you very well; well enough to tell that you had done this on purpose. if there was one thing you were an expert in, it was trying your absolute best in annoying, shaming, and angering megumi fushiguro. 

and he hated it.

how it worked, mostly, but he hated it all the same.

"uncle ogi said we couldn't tell anyone," he reminded you, firm and very visibly offended. 

you grinned at him. "what, because of the reputation of the zenin family?" you continued before he could answer. "well guess what, porcupine? i'm not a zenin."

"and neither am i," he stated, the frown on his face deepening with each passing second.

"by name, maybe not. you're literally toji's son —"

"i would've found out anyway," nobara intervened confidently. she twirled a piece of her short hair around her finger mindlessly. "you ended up on national television —"

"national television?" yuji repeated, his voice raising several octaves. you expected him to look a bit more impressed, but your pink-haired friend merely pouted at the three of you. "why am i being segregated? what happened on national tv?"

that particular day had been very hectic. a visit to the zoo with the rest of the family (along with suguru and his two girls, mimiko and nanako), was meant to be how any other family would act, admiring the animals and walking in sync with one another... only for it to turn into absolute chaos when little megumi had ended up in the gorilla enclosure and decided that he wanted to live there.

you never let him live that one down.

"megumi became one with the gorillas —"

"did you tell them about your interest in the aquarium?" he cut through your statement coldly.

your eyes widened, gawking at him in something in between disbelief and complete annoyance. if there was one thing megumi knew embarrassed you (and you don't tend to get embarrassed by much) it was the mermaid lie you'd made years ago. 

"i was interested in the sharks," you explained, growing more and more agitated with the way megumi's face became more and more dismissive, as if you were lying. "they were scary but i liked it —"

"makes sense," he interrupted again, "they're a danger to your species."

you could see yuji laughing; the knife lodged itself deep in your heart. you could see nobara holding hers in; you felt the knife twist in its place.

the irritating part of it all was the fact that your dark-haired, cruel friend deserved credit for that one. it was good, and if it hadn't been directed at you, you might have even voiced how impressed you were.

"okay i'll give you that one," you said, turning away with your nose in the air. "it was good, you got me there. but only this time, porcupine."

you hoped and prayed that yuji and nobara would forget this moment: it happened to be the only time your constant teasing came back to bite you right in the ass. you wondered to yourself how many times the four of you could sit like this together, pester megumi because it happened to be something you, yuji and nobara all had in common, a habit you did not believe would ever break for as long as you lived on this great, green earth. from the looks of your timetables, there weren't many classes where the four of you would be in altogether, only a the three that had been previously mentioned: chemistry with ieiri (who you'll now have to refer to as miss shoko), biology with satoru (who you'll now have to refer to as mr gojo) and one of the teachers you'd never met here, math, with mr kento nanami. 

he sounded strict. 

you didn't like strict.

but you also could have sworn that the name sounded familiar. 

you happened to be correct, and you'd found that out in one of your first lessons with mr kento nanami:

he was a tall man, with blonde hair that had been styled in a neat side part. his cheeks were hollow, making the cheekbones on his face seem more prominent and emphasised. he didn't smile, not even during the first lesson, which had mainly been an introduction, and he spoke very formally, like a business man. you had learned that the business attire (the suit, tie, formal pants and pointy shoes) had not been a one-off dress code for him. after attending several of his  lessons, getting to know him better, you'd found that this was an everyday fit for him. 

that tie was a bit weird though, and mr nanami was anything but weird.

so you'd been correct in assuming that his name sounded familiar. he was just a year younger than satoru, suguru and ieiri, a mutual friend (though he did seem adamant that satoru and him were most definitely not friends, no matter how many times the white-haired beanstalk declared that they were). 

mr kento nanami was a funny man, you'd decided. strict, firm, and constantly exasperated, but funny nonetheless. without even trying, that is. you liked his lessons very much. the one thing that you didn't like, however, was the learning part of it — math was not your strong suit. that had been established years ago when you first started learning it, but it only became more emphasised in his classes.

"i can't do it," you declared out loud, using an eraser to erase yet another one of your miscalculations. "this is too hard —"

"you can do it," said kento nanami, who had made you sit right across from his desk because you seemed to need the most help out of everyone in the class. it turned out, this very class had been one of the top sets. it was a miracle you'd been placed there, let alone managed to stay there. though, arguably, you had been moved down several times, only for you to fail even more because apparently, only kento nanami's teachings stuck in your head, even if it was a struggle.

"i can't," you sighed, rubbing your temples, feeling a headache starting to form. whoever created math was going to wish they hadn't. "i'm going to die —"

kento nanami pinched the bridge of his nose: he didn't like it when you became dramatic.

"you're not going to —"

"yes i am." 

"you cannot expect to do even remotely well with that attitude," he said, completely disregarding your dramatic comment. "the last exam you completed —"

you grimaced. "don't remind me! even yuji did better than me... and he never studies!"

"i do study!" the pink-haired idiot lied from somewhere behind you. 

you knew he never studied. in fact, one time, when you spent most of the day at nobara's, her grandmother had forced you to sit and work through multiple equations, meanwhile yuji spent the day teaching football to the neighbours' kids. you knew — you watched him enjoy himself through the window.

"you can't believe him kento, he's lying to you to impress you —"

"i have half a mind to believe him simply out of spite," kento firmly told you, and there was a tick in his jaw. "for the millionth time, y/n, you will refer to me as mr nanami."

there was a habit that you'd adopted, which applied to teachers you really liked, but not limited to teachers you really hated. it was something that had always existed, calling teachers by their first names rather than their last names, if only to show them that they were your friends (or you simply had no respect for them if they were seen as your foe). masamichi, kento, satoru, ieiri, are candidates you liked very much. other teachers... not so much.

"mr kento nanami —"

"mr nanami," he repeated, stoic and stubborn. "as i was saying, the last exam you completed was notably better than the one prior. that shows improvement."

you stared at him, deadpanned. "i was only two points higher."

"any improvement is improvement."

you never considered yourself a pessimist. in fact, you always looked at the brighter side of things when no one else would. but with math, it almost felt like you would become a whole different person, and the last person you wanted to be like was emo, depressed, careless megumi. the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

"this is too hard," you sighed, placing your pencil down on the table with a look of defeat. "just bury me already —"

kento gave you a long and hard look, his expression stern and brows furrowed to the point where a deep line had been formed between them. he looked at you... perhaps not at you, maybe something or someone behind you, as his eyes fell over your shoulder meeting someone else's.

you would soon find out that it had been megumi. 

as if they'd created their own form of communication through the eyes itself, you found yourself sitting by megumi's desk now, his judgemental and critical look only serving to offend you.

"i'm helping you —"

"you literally called me dumb," you scoffed, brow raised in scepticism. 

megumi's eyes grew half-lidded, apparently bored with your accusation. "no i never."

"yes you did," you said firmly. "you said i'm as 'sharp as a marble'." 

the offender simply raised his own brow at you in apparent confusion, as if to say 'and?'. 

"marbles aren't sharp!" you snapped angrily, taking everyone around you by surprise at the sudden volume of your voice.

megumi ran a hand through his hair, dragged it down his face, and let out a small groan, muffled so as to not distract the rest of the class any further. he did not seem impressed, but you didn't care. the audacity he had to call you dumb when his teaching was clearly not working spoke volumes for you. 

you leaned back in your chair, arms folded over your chest, reluctantly sliding your completed work across from you and over to him. 

"mark my work," you demanded, with every intent to make it sound as bossy as you could.

he glared at you, but did not oppose, picking his pen up and going through the questions with you with a look of deep concentration. at times, he would scratch the back of his neck, rub his brow, grasp his chin, shake his head, and you had no idea what any of those actions meant (probably that you got every question wrong, again). 

only for you to be completely stumped when he looked up and met your eyes once more, no longer sporting the look of exhaustion, but one of pride. 

at least, you thought it was pride. all of megumi's expressions tended to be the same: his mouth a straight line, his eyes half-lidded, his brows unmoving, etc. though with time, you had managed to dissect each and every one and figure out whether he was happy, or sad, or angry, and so on. right now, you thought he looked impressed. you knew for sure that he didn't seem annoyed with you — that was usually his default, too!

cautiously and gradually, you leaned over and pulled the sheet towards yourself, eyes darting up and down before finding the final mark:

7/10 - good.

beaming, you met his eyes with a toothy smile, brows raised in pleasant shock.

"i'm so smart!" you declared, confidently and immensely proud.

he let out a long exhale through his nose. "why did you have to go and ruin it?"

you ignored him, snatching the paper and rushing over to kento's desk, taking enough care to slide in between the discarded chairs and tables people are sitting at, and swiping yuji's pencil case off the table just for the fun of it. at his wail of despair, you merely responded with a quiet 'oops' knowing quite well that your actions had been very much intentional. 

you did nearly slip on one of the stray pencils that had rolled out of his discarded pencil case, to your doom, but politely flipped yuji off when he laughed 'karma'. 

by the desk, on kento's chair, sat a baffled nobara, her eyes drooping and her soft, short hair dishevelled through, no doubt, constantly running her hands through it in obvious exhaustion. like you, math was not her strong spot. also like you, she looked ready to absolutely throttle whoever decided to add letters to numbers and make it part of the compulsory curriculum. 

kento himself stood opposite her, bent forward and holding himself up with his hands on the desk, pointing at the numerous equations on her own paper, and giving her extra guidance and clarification on them.

"do you understand it now?" your teacher asked her, looking down, sombre yet patient.

her hands were hidden somewhere beneath her hair, holding her head up as she stared grimly down at her own messy work, slowly nodding.

"yeah... but i'm going to torture, and murder, and torture —"

"— the guy that created math," kento finished off, looking slightly tense as he stood up to his full height, straightening himself seriously, "i've heard it, nobara." he looked over his shoulder and noticed you standing excitedly behind him. "what's wrong, y/n —"

"i get it now!" you informed him honestly, though you could tell the enthusiasm in your voice simply encouraged kento to feel more suspicion than anything else. "i got everything right!"

the small gasp of envy from nobara did not go unnoticed by you; kento tilted his chin downwards to take a better look at your paper, held up proudly by yourself. his narrowed eyes darted left and right, examining each question, each neat tick megumi had left behind, and finally reached the bottom of the page where your impressive score had been written in a bold red. 

kento nodded at you. 

"seven out of ten," he quoted, almost like a machine. "that's more than fifty percent."

"please, ken— i mean mr nanami —" you added when you'd caught sight of the pursing of his lips, "no more numbers. i've retired from being the genius i was just two minutes ago. i got everything right!"

"seven out of ten," kento repeated, voice gruff. "definitely an achievement, but not one hundred perce—"

"i'm still a genius," you interrupted, apparently choosing to select which parts of his statement you truly wanted to hear. "megumi said so —"

"no i never," your traitor of a friend had intervened from somewhere behind you. 

you regarded him, boot-faced and unimpressed. he was sitting next to yuji now, finishing off his own work. but apparently, your little white lie was enough to break him out of this cycle of work, work, and more work. 

"stop lying," he gracefully added.

you felt your eye twitch in indignation, turning around to face kento and plastering on a smile to mask your obvious discontent.

"he's the one lying," you whispered, though that did not stop kento from believing him over you. it became a habit over time, you'd noticed. you were still trying to figure out a way to break it.

"be more humble," grumbled nobara, still slouching on kento's chair with a permanent scowl painted over her face. "some of us are being beaten black and blue with all of this."

"i can teach you!" you offered, relishing in the smile that nobara's face had formed, extending to her eyes where the spark that usually lay there had been re-lighted. 

giddy, you skipped around kento and his desk to reach nobara on the other side, ignoring his weak protests about how he wasn't sure that you were absolutely confident in your skills at the particular topic. you and nobara were in your own world, sitting on the thin arm of his spinning chair, one half of your body slumped against her side and the other hovering above her as you guided her on the questions.

it was later found that kento had been correct. helping nobara only served to take away the knowledge that your teacher had already tirelessly given her. you walked away in shame after that, completely unaware of the fact that half of the method you'd used to solve the equations out were actually correct...

and not just over fifty percent, but one hundred percent. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

due to a series of upcoming exams, you and the rest of your little group had spent majority of your break times at study hall, looking over a bunch of your notes from social studies, to performing arts, to biology, chemistry, physics. however, the only one you had to truly focus on was math.

you slumped over your textbook, your expression a mix of frustration and defeat as you stared at the seemingly indecipherable equations before you. to you, math was a labyrinth of confusion, a tangled web of numbers and symbols that ensnared your mind with its complexity. each problem felt like a battle, with your thoughts colliding like opposing armies on a chaotic battlefield. the numbers mocked you, dancing tauntingly on the page as if daring you to unravel their secrets. it was as if you were trying to navigate through a dense fog, each step forwards only leading to a hundred steps backwards. math, to you, was a relentless adversary, an insurmountable mountain that you could never hope to conquer. 

your gaze flickered over to yuji, who seemed to effortlessly breeze through the math problems with a nonchalant ease that left you envious. he was like a graceful dancer, effortlessly gliding across the stage of equations while you stumbled clumsily in the wings. each correct answer he produced felt like a dagger to your pride, a reminder of your own inadequacy in the face of his natural talent. it was as if he had been born with a mathematical compass embedded in his mind, guiding him effortlessly through the labyrinth of numbers and formulas. you couldn't help but feel like a mere spectator in the shadow of his brilliance, your own struggles magnified in comparison to his effortless mastery.

what pissed you off more was the fact that this was yuji. 

yuji.

he barely studied (no matter what lies he fed to kento, your sensible math teacher). you could pass him a math paper without a warning and he would bring it back to you without a single strand of grey in the field of pink on his head. 

so, naturally, whilst megumi tutored an ever-growing depressed nobara, you asked yuji to help you...

you wished you hadn't made fun of megumi's hair that morning, that way, mustering up your courage to ask him for help instead probably would have been easier.

"so first," yuji began slowly, carefully writing out the numbers over your blank sheet. and then it was as if your life went by in two times speed. "you do that, and then that, and then that."

you took a careful glance at megumi's watch. your life hadn't zoomed by that fast: yuji was just a terrible tutor.

he dropped the pencil in front of you, letting it roll right next to where your hand lay, sitting back on his seat with a happy smile on his face, as if he'd actually accomplished something.

you felt your eye twitch.

"how about i show you how i do this, and then this, and then this!" you said, each emphasised word paired with a harsh smack on yuji's head with a rolled up booklet you snatched off the table. you did not know who it belonged to, probably megumi, but you did not care.

"okay okay okay! — ow! — okay, woman!"

"is that my business booklet?" megumi icily interrupted, eyes narrowed, following each and every movement of your hand that waved it around.

you shot him a glance, mild fury smouldering in your eyes.

"no..."

megumi fixed his gaze on you, his face a mask of calm that barely hinted at the storm brewing in his head. his eyes were like twin daggers, piercing through your facade with chilling precision. a muscle in his jaw twitched slightly, the only betrayal of his controlled exterior. 

"it has my name in bold," he informed you, bored.

"okay..." you said, peering down at the booklet in your hands with a masked expression. "you can have it back if you teach me how to do algebra?"

megumi's mouth set itself in a firm line, conveying a silent but unmistakable challenge. though his expression remained stoic, the intensity of his gaze was like a glacier, cold and unyielding, and also a bit tired, as though he'd expected nothing less from you. with a grin, you knew what it meant: you won.

before you could carry out your plan to throw yuji off his seat and reach megumi and nobara, an external voice jolted you out of your intense focus.

the four of you looked up, distracted: it was noritoshi kamo accompanied by chad montgomery, both of whom were part of the school's official football team alongside yuji and megumi. noritoshi (who preferred to simply go by kamo) had dark, straight hair that stopped a little further down his chin whereas chad was rather big, tall, and blonde, with a friendly face to match. it was a running joke that chad was very unlike the typical chads you'd see on tv. he was kinder, friendlier, yet still rather well-known.

"nice catch at gym today, y/n," kamo had said, barely smiling. you thought he had some sort of face freeze like megumi.

"thank you!" you beamed, turning to your friends as the two boys casually walked off. "see? people do appreciate the effort i put in at sports."

"you and nobara weren't meant to be in our class to begin with," said megumi, sliding a worksheet in your direction. you accepted it gratefully, though your attention was hardly on the paper.

"touche," nobara muttered into her own hand, her other scribbling over the doodles she'd drawn around her paper. "our class is boring."

"huh? i thought you liked coach lauren?" said yuji, visibly surprised.

you tapped the back of your pen on your worksheet impatiently. 

"we do! but it's not as fun when she doesn't care about us not participating," you told him thoughtfully. "but when it's coach yaga —"

megumi scowled. "he lost his voice because of the two of you."

you mirrored his scowl. "hey, we didn't tell him to yell and chase us across the field, did we?" 

"and he wouldn't have even noticed us if you hadn't ratted us out, snitch," nobara helpfully added, levelling an accusatory look at megumi while pointing the end of her pen at him.

megumi regarded you and nobara with a blank, almost bored expression. his mouth remained a straight line, devoid of any hint of emotion, as if he were staring at an unremarkable, distant horizon. the only movement was the slow blink of his eyelids, which seemed to convey a sense of enduring your antics with the patience of a stone statue.

"you guys were standing at the back and laughing at everyone," he stated.

"wrong," you hummed. "we were laughing at you."

yuji's laughter erupted, nearly causing him to topple from his chair as he doubled over, resting against the table. his whole body shook with mirth, his laughter filling the room with its infectious energy. 

nobara sliced through it with unbridled ease.

"we were laughing at you too, you clown," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "you and that todo guy being in your own little word —"

"it's not my fault!" said yuji, defensive. "he keeps following me, even when i go to megumi! he keeps saying we're brothers — i don't even know him!"

"i can't imagine you with a brother anyway," you said, barely registering yuji's alarm and stress, but it had completely disappeared at your comment, now masked over with an expression of pure confusion.

"but i do have a brother," he'd said, resulting in all three of you to look up at him with raised brows, parted mouths and narrowed eyes.

"huh?" nobara voiced, aggressive. "what do you mean? you never told us you —"

"i did!" he interrupted, eyes darting from megumi to you to nobara and then back again. "my half brother!"

"half brother?" you repeated, outraged. 

you spent the next few seconds thinking deep and hard as nobara verbally assaulted him for causing the three of you such distress with such a lie, racking your brain for a time where yuji had voiced to you that he had a half brother, something that you'd been blissfully unaware of for the last four years you had known him. 

"what's his name?" megumi asked, intervening loudly so that yuji would hear him over nobara's attacks.

"choso," said yuji, as though it were the most obvious and easiest thing to remember. "i told you guys!"

"so every time we watched movies at your place, how come it was only ever gramps and your parents?" you asked, notably surprised. 

on the days you'd sleep over at yuji's, you'd see mr and mrs itadori, both of whom insisted you'd call them kaori and jin, as their day shifts at their respective work places would end. never once did you see another being, another male by the name choso.

"he's much older than us, so he's already got his own place to live in," yuji explained, which, as much as you hated to admit it, made sense.

the initial shock of finding out that yuji had a half brother by the name choso had worn out after the next few minutes had been spent looking at different pictures of him and his odd family. they looked nothing alike, with choso sporting dark hair styled in odd pigtails and a more mature face and yuji having pink hair (you still insisted that it wasn't natural) and a more friendly, soft face. they didn't even have the same eye colour or remotely similar features.

somehow, the conversation had spun back to yuji's alleged brother, todo:

"maki told me that when he gets to senior year, he's planning on doing it twice," said nobara, glancing between a panicked-yuji and an exasperated-megumi for confirmation.

you nodded in agreement. "yeah, toge said the same thing."

nobara grinned at yuji. "looks like you'll be dealing with him for as long as we stay here."

yuji looked like he could be physically ill.

the rest of the day had gone by with yuji making multiple attempts to persuade the three of you that him and todo were most definitely not related by any means, and he only grew more and more panicked and alarmed when nobara would make sly comments about how todo would replace megumi as yuji's best friend and run off into the distance together, to which megumi pretended not to care (but you practically spoke in megumi-facial-expressions, and could tell that he very much did).

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

satoru's classroom was significantly larger than any of the other classes in the school. you noticed this the second you'd entered it back in september. he said it was because of the fact that he's a science teacher and therefore needs a larger room for laboratory experiments and so on, but you knew it was a lie. why did ieiri, who was also a science teacher, have a classroom slightly smaller than his? 

you ran the thought in your head multiple times, before ultimately deciding that he had probably thrown a fit over it and bribed his way up that ladder. it helped that he was also filthy rich, not that anyone else needed to know that.

there were three lab tables in his room, his desk on the left of the whiteboard and projector, and the door on the right. windows surrounded two of the four walls in the room, brightening it up so much so that on the days that you were plagued with headaches, satoru's classes became dreadful (which was saying a lot, seeing as you and several others thoroughly enjoyed his lessons).

you, megumi, yuji and nobara sat on the table in the far left, closest to satoru's desk. there wasn't necessarily a seating plan, but the one time you and nobara sat on the table furthest from his desk, he did act pretty prissy about it the entire day. 

"reproduction!" he said, a little too enthusiastically though knowing him, he most likely meant to. adjusting the circular glasses on his nose, he gestured to the board where a presentation of said-topic demanded each and every viewer's attention. no other topic within the subject of biology ever had this many balloon stickers or confetti gifs. "my favourite topic!"

"fuck's sake," you heard megumi mutter under his breath from across yuji, who was sitting nervously on your right.

the other boys in your class, sitting around the table in the middle and the table on the far right seemed to be getting a little too excited, in your humble opinion: sitting up straighter with ugly grins forming on their ugly faces, looking around and making cheeky eye contact with one another. 

"i know a lot about that," you heard tyler jenson announce, his too-happy face only serving to irk you in ways even megumi could not. but whilst you sat there with a sour expression forming second by second, nobara (seated next to megumi) turned around and voiced your thoughts.

"and yet you've never been touched by a woman."

the classroom was then filled with muffled laughter as many hid the lower halves of their faces behind their hands, giggling and chuckling as tyler's face became more compatible to the colour of a cherry rather than the colour of the skin on his hands and arms. nobara turned back around with her lips in a straight, thin line, shaking her head due to some of the hair that had fallen over her eyes. 

"mr gojo," one of tyler's minion-friends spoke up, very clearly offended. it became quite clear that tyler would not speak for himself from here on out. "aren't you going to — like — say something about that..?"

satoru raised a brow, the smile he usually adorned with pearly-white teeth non-existent, almost as if it were never there. 

"no," he said, hands resting in the pockets of his pants, "because she just demolished you."

he went back to teaching as though nothing had happened. 

the rest of the lesson had gone by quite well. few of tyler's minion friends had gotten the message and remained silent for the remainder of the hour, chalking it up to 'favouritism', though everyone knew otherwise. as many odd jokes that satoru had made, he did eventually teach the curriculum, even when the comments from tyler's other foolish friends had irked everyone by opening their mouths:

"okay," nodded satoru, visibly tense as he stood up and slammed his entire hand against the whiteboard so suddenly, with such aggression, the projector wobbled. "listen here! reproduction? sex? it's bad. who can tell me why?"

you looked around. everyone seemed just as startled as you. as fun as satoru's classes were, when he pulled random shit like this, you were more inclined to feel scared than enraptured. but it wasn't a class lead by satoru gojo unless satoru gojo became melodramatic at some point during it. 

"no one?" he continued, head turning left and right. "megumi?"

"leave me alone."

satoru promptly turned to your other friend instead. "yuji!"

"er... because... it distracts you from school work?" yuji guessed, scratching the back of his ear, a random habit you realised he'd picked up over the last few months. 

satoru nodded slowly. 

"warmer..." he'd said; yuji beamed. "nobara!"

"because men don't perform —"

"no, but i should've seen that comin'," your teacher interrupted mindlessly, the smile unwavering as he turned his gaze to you. although, it was hard to tell for certain, for the silly sunglasses he wore indoors concealed his eyes. "y/n!"

"it's a sin —"

"why on earth did i ask you to begin with?" he said, turning away and shaking his head. "okay, note this down, all of you. you can die if you have sex, yeah?"

clement roy, who was seated by the middle table (also one of the smartest in the class) spoke up with a frown:

"no you can't. having intercourse isn't dangerous."

satoru did not seem impressed. he stared at clement roy with the expression a child would give to their parent over rejection of candy before dinner. 

"all right smarty-pants, want to explain to the class what'll happen when you get chlamydia?" hedemanded, visibly nettled. before clement could even think of a response, the drama queen had already pressed on. "you'll die. you'll suffer in silence because you won't want to communicate to another responsible human being about how you were being irresponsible and then die because chlamydia got you."

you could drop a pin on the floor and the sound would echo around the room and bounce off of the walls with how eerily quiet it had gotten. had it not been broad daylight, you were certain the croaking of crickets would be the only thing perceived in this awkward silence. 

"don't just stare at me, write it down!"

barely fifteen minutes later, satoru had gone back to behaving more positively playful than negatively dramatic. 

at some point in the lesson, he'd handed out worksheets for everyone to go through and complete, filled with a series of questions based on what he managed to teach for the last thirty to forty minutes. the questions hadn't been too hard; you whizzed through them in no time. to check your answers, you stretched your body over the table and snatched megumi's paper without warning, sitting back down comfortably and ignoring his demands of handing it back.

"give it," he'd said, but the look on his face was too funny to pass up. 

megumi's default expression was always that bored, grumpy look. his angry expression, however, was much more emphasised: his nose had a way of scrunching itself up the tiniest bit, his jaw became tighter, and when his brows closed in on each other, he looked as though he'd aged ten times faster. this expression was harder to catch on camera because he always managed to swipe your phone out of your hands whenever you'd reach for it, like his sixth sense was knowing just when you'd go for the kill, the oddbot. that was why it mattered a million times more when he'd look more angry than he did bored or careless.

"i have to mark my work," you told him, placing it side-by-side with your own.

"ha! thanks, megumi!" added yuji, adding his worksheet (with scribbles, writing, and more scribbles on it) next to yours and megumi's. 

"you're not welcome. give it back, y/n —"

"hand it to me when you're done. think i got the last few wrong," said nobara, and without looking up, you raised your thumb, giving her your affirmative. 

megumi growled. "no —"

"what're you gonna do, huh?" said nobara, poking him on the shoulder with the end of her pen. "tell mr gojo?"

"what is this, mean girls?" megumi grumbled, deadpanned. "oi, regina, give me back my sheet —"

you shook your head. yuji came to your defence:

"we're not done —"

"shut up karen."

he gasped. you probably would have laughed if you weren't so occupied with scribbling out the few answers that you'd gotten wrong (based off of megumi's own work, which tended to be correct nine times out of ten). 

before you could blink, megumi's work had been swiped away from you, but not by the owner himself (you were silently surprised that he hadn't marched around the table to snag it from you by now) but by an audibly annoyed yuji, who was mumbling curses under his breath as he sketched something in the top left corner of the paper. 

vexed, exasperated, and disturbed, you pinched yuji's thigh before snatching the paper back, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. your hardened expression became less tight at the sight of the literal penis that yuji had drawn. two seconds had barely passed before you found yourself gasping for breath, hand over your mouth at a futile attempt at muffling your own laughter. 

nobara perked up, interested and offended.

"hey, don't leave me out," she snapped, back straight and chin held high. "what's so funny?"

with the deliberate intention of ensuring that the sulky boy seated diagonally across from you had also seen his own paper, you lifted it and showed it to her. 

"what the hell?" he demanded, making a move at swiping it out of your hands, but you were quicker, sliding it across the table to nobara instead. 

megumi's face twisted in irritation as his dark eyes landed on the defaced worksheet. a faint flush spread across his pale cheeks, a rare sign of his mounting frustration. his jaw clenched, muscles tensing visibly under his skin as he took a slow, deep breath, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, betraying the effort it took to suppress a scathing retort. he glared at yuji, his gaze as cold and hard as steel, before flicking back to the offending drawing. with a huff of exasperation, he snatched the paper back, his movements quick and brusque, clearly indicating his annoyance. for a moment, he sat still, radiating a palpable aura of vexation, before muttering under his breath and looking up at you all, clearly done with your antics.

nobara whistled lowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "damn, who pissed in your cereal, megumi?"

"why would you do that?" megumi demanded, his voice edged with irritation as he fixed Yuji with a piercing glare, completely ignoring nobara's teasing remark.

yuji, with his arms folded over his chest with a look akin to a child after throwing a tantrum, returned megumi's glare with one of his own. 

"revenge," he stated simply, his tone carrying a quiet but unmistakable resolve. 

before anyone could chime in with their own thoughts, satoru materialised from behind megumi, sporting his trademark easy grin, which only widened at megumi's apparent annoyance.

"who rained on megumi's parade?" he'd asked, sounding curious yet looking devious. it wasn't a surprise to anyone that satoru enjoyed anything that made megumi unhappy (in terms of teasing, of course).

"yuji doodled a bit on his paper," you said, rolling your eyes. "now he's throwing a fit over it."

megumi shot you a sharp glare, his expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief. his eyes narrowed slightly, silently questioning your choice of words, but refrained from saying anything, opting instead to let his disapproval speak for itself.

until he couldn't.

"stop being such a grump, megumi," satoru chortled, his teasing only exacerbating the tension brewing within megumi fushiguro. "it just makes you look more like your dad, and who the hell wants to look like toji —"

"he drew a dick on my paper," megumi interjected sharply, his frustration evident in his tone, like a rope pulled taut in a tug-of-war.

satoru's laughter bubbles up, a blend of genuine surprise and amusement twinkling in his eyes. he chuckles softly, a grin playing on his lips as he shakes his head, clearly taken aback by megumi's straightforwardness and yuji's unexpected actions.

"big deal," he said, forcing himself in between nobara and megumi. "let's see de vinci's art —"

"ugh, you're squashing us!" nobara snapped, but satoru had paid no mind to her. in fact, her comment had only seemed to have encouraged him to force himself between them further, all with a knowing smile on his face.

satoru's laughter burst forth as he caught sight of the drawing, genuine amusement evident in the small crinkles that formed around his eyes. his grin widened, his shoulders shaking slightly with suppressed mirth as he took in the absurdity of the situation. his constant laughter eventually caused him to double over, and he instinctively reached out, grabbing onto nobara's shoulder for support. his fingers gripped onto her firmly, but not aggressively, just enough to steady himself as he tried to regain his composure. 

nobara's irritation became palpable at satoru's hand that had landed on her shoulder for support. she shot him a pointed look, her body stiffening slightly as she made subtle attempts to wriggle out of his grasp.

"as wonderful as this is," he sighed, wiping an imaginary tear from his shielded eye, "i have to get rid of it."

it was, perhaps, the first time in that lesson that megumi had looked up in approval.

yuji shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. 

"i don't care, i did it to prove a point," he stated, his brows furrowing in mild annoyance.

"what point?" said nobara, apparently having given up on trying to pry satoru's hand off her shoulder. even so, she didn't look too pleased about it. 

yuji shrugged, his expression easing as the tension left his jaw and his furrowed brows smoothed out. eyes widened, and his brows lifted slightly, yuji's lips parted, and his forehead smoothed itself out. the overall expression on his face was one of genuine puzzlement. 

"i... can't really remember to be honest —"

"erase it," megumi commanded, his voice tight with irritation.

"no," yuji shot back, defensive. "maybe you should learn to be more nice to me —"

"after this?" said megumi, voice sharp and cutting, brimming with barely restrained fury. "like hell."

"there's too much testosterone on this table," said nobara, eyeing your other male classmates that sat down a little further down from the four of you. "y/n and i should've sat near the door —"

"oh yeah?" began satoru, bending down slightly to level his face with hers. he did not look too pleased. "and how well did that work for you last time, huh?"

but before she could actually answer his question, he had already moved on, looking around at you, yuji and megumi, and pointing at the cursed sketch on the paper.

"i don't want to do this," he said, leaning over to grab it and slide it towards the end of the table where he stood with an eraser in his hand. 

he pressed it against the drawing, letting out false sobs of despair with each swipe, loud enough to draw the attention of the rest of the class. it was ugly, drawn-out, and extremely sonorous. you regarded him with a look of disgust; megumi slouched in his seat, as though that would conceal him from the onlookers; nobara pressed a hand to her forehead, head bent and gaze averted; yuji watched satoru without shame, apparently still his biggest cheerleader.

"okay you can stop now," you added, when it became crystal clear that satoru would go on and on just for the sake of someone finally addressing his shameless acting. you would rather die than have it continue. 

he grinned, radiating self-assured pride as he addressed your little group.

"now i wish i took a picture before i got rid of it," he sighed, placing the paper in front of its rightful owner. 

from where you were sat, you could still see the outline of the sketch, faded yet visible. it seemed that yuji had released his anger from his hand straight to the pencil, applying enough pressure to leave a mark even when erased. if that didn't teach megumi to be more polite, you didn't know what would. 

a deep voice suddenly interrupted the commotion, cutting through the conversation like a knife. the speaker's tone was unnervingly calm and composed, each word enunciated with precision and the use of complete formal english added an air of false-authority and distance, sounding almost archaic due to the lack of contractions. 

all five of you turned your heads to stare at the figure hiding beneath the table surrounding the outer-edge of the classroom where multiple sinks were built in: malakai the emo, who you had first met in middle school. he just so happened to attend the same high school too. even so, the only classes that the two of you shared were satoru's biology and physics ones.

"there is a disturbance occurring on that table near the desk belonging to the teacher," he began, voice slow, almost snarling. "and i do not like it very much..."

satoru frowned, watching him with obvious exasperation. if there was one being that threw even satoru gojo, the drama queen off, it was malakai the emo (who, if anyone had forgotten, preferred to be called 'kai' and will visibly glitch if referred to as 'malakai').

"disturbances should never occur inside classrooms..."

you scoffed. "coming from the biggest attention-whore of today's history."

satoru waved a hand in your direction, a silent dismissal, one that very clearly communicated that he would handle the issue. 

"and this is my class," he told the emo, raising a white brow. 

"mr gojo..." malakai began, still borderline snarling, "you do not know how to manage this class very well..."

you couldn't exactly tell due to his opaque glasses, but judging from the way his brows shot up dramatically, nearly disappearing beneath his white hair, you knew that satoru's eyes widened in exaggerated shock. his mouth dropped open in a perfect 'O' of disbelief. he gasped audibly, the sound loud and theatrical. his usually playful demeanour transformed into one of theatrical indignation, his entire face a portrait of mock outrage. his head tilted back slightly, as if to better display his expression to everyone present.

"you don't even know how to stand without glitching, kid," he teased, with every intent of offending malakai. "ah-ah, not another word outta ya," he added, pointer finger raised with a smile. "i'd send you to miss shoko —"

you did not need to take a look at malakai to know that he was smiling hopefully. if there was one teacher he loved, it was ieiri, for her classroom was shielded from the light outside, and she did not have a care in the world for whatever he did.

"��� but she said she'll beat my ass if i do that again. so, i'll make sure you sit on the table, kai, not under it."

context: malakai had this thing where he detested sitting in the light, hated classrooms where the blinds weren't down, and loathed anyone who wore bright colours. according to him, the 'darkness will consume him'. on the first day of high school, he'd sat underneath the sink where it was dark, tight, and cramped. when satoru made an attempt to get him to sit on the table (like everybody else) he visibly shook and caused a scene, turning animalistic over nothing.

satoru had never made another attempt since.

at some point in the year, it had come to your attention that the teachers in his other classes had forced him to sit on the tables, but not without a negotiation: he would sit on a table on his own, so long as he was at the very back of the classroom, in a secluded corner, where no visible sunlight would reach him. even then, he would glitch and tweak, but he would sit there quietly nonetheless. 

there was a time where kento had to teach one of his math classes due to his regular teacher falling ill, and when you'd asked malakai about it, he'd described it as 'hell'. you could only assume that kento hadn't let him sit under a table, nor made an effort in following any negotiations. 

but, surprisingly enough, malakai's grades in satoru's classes were the highest out of the rest of his classes. perhaps sitting under a table like he wants actually has its benefits. 

malakai let out a loud hiss at satoru's words, as if they'd burned him to the point of no recovery. 

satoru had given up.

"okay i'll risk the ass kicking, go to miss shoko."

malakai crawled out from his spot beneath the sink and sprang up, a maniacal grin plastered on his face. his arms flailed wildly, as if he had downed ten bottles of alcohol in one sitting. malakai's eyes widened, the gleam of anticipation shining through the heavy kohl lining his eyes. a wide, ecstatic grin stretched across his face, revealing a flash of his sharp canines (apparently he loved to use charcoal toothpaste). he practically bounced on his feet, his whole body vibrating with eager energy as he ran across the classroom in that weird way that he runs — body bent forward and arms extended backwards (satoru once said that he should be part of the ninjas in naruto — you couldn't get the image out of your head now).

"yes — miss shoko — and her dark, dark under-eyes —"

the rest of you watched him ninja-run out of the classroom and down the hall, his footsteps echoing and fading. 

satoru adjusted the glasses on his nose with an air of quiet concern. "there is something seriously wrong with that kid."

barely five minutes had gone by before his phone vibrated in his pocket; he took it out, checked it, and then smiled up at you all.

"if i don't turn up tomorrow, it was ieiri shoko: thirty one years old, brown hair, brown eyes, about this short —"

he did show up the next day, but with a cut on his lower lip and quite the story to tell. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

as several other paying customers walked into the quaint cafe, the bell above the door chimed softly, announcing their arrival. the interior was a charming blend of rustic and modern elements, creating an inviting atmosphere for its patrons. the space was not overly large, you'd noticed since your introduction to the place, but it was very clearly thoughtfully designed to maximize comfort, with several circular tables made of beige wood on each side of the room, all of which were adorned with fresh flowers in small vases. your favourite part, however, was the soft ambient lighting from the hanging pendant lamps that created a warm glow, casting a muted illumination all over the space.

the walls were also furnished with framed artwork and vintage posters, which you thought added some character and charm to the place. where you and megumi sat on the stools by the counter, a large chalkboard stood behind it displayed the day's menu offerings, written in elegant script with colourful chalk illustrations of pastries and beverages. the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wafted through the air, tempting your senses and inviting customers to indulge in the cafe's delectable offerings. 

you and megumi tended to avoid the place during peak time, but if you just so happened to be passing by, sometimes you'd force your way to the front to offer some help to the distressed, kind lady (also known as miss B) serving everyone. since it also happened to be local, you had become regular customers and people she looked forward to seeing during the day. 

with kento's gruelling homework laid out messily over the counter before you, the gentle chatter and soft music filled the air, further distracting you from the cruel equations on the papers waiting to be solved. 

while you and megumi had come here to study together, you only did so for, perhaps, twenty minutes before the laptop you'd stolen from the bakery woman working diligently behind the counter had been used for activities other than studying math. it wasn't a new occurrence: it was a daily routine to search up the reviews on the cafe (buttercup brew) and respond to any that were badmouthing miss B, the food, or the place itself since the two of you both acknowledged the fact that she was too lenient and nice to do so herself.

"'what's the opposite of delicious?'" you read out, leaning in to megumi's side to read off of the laptop that he had pulled towards himself.

megumi scoffed, his pale fingers typing away aggressively at the keyboard before him. 

what's the opposite of clever? he had silently written.

your eyes widened in both surprise and delight, a bright, melodious laugh escaping your lips, eyes crinkling at the corners, sparkling with amusement. your laughter eventually subsided into soft giggles, and you looked at megumi with a twinkle in your eye.

"impressive," you praised, glancing back at the laptop, intrigued. "any more?"

megumi nodded, a carefully manicured finger gently swiping down the touchpad.

"'came in the day they were trialling savoury dishes. the food was bland. this is a bakery, stick to sweets,'" he'd read out, monotoned. "by a woman, this time."

your cheerful demeanour fades slightly as megumi read out the negative comment, brows furrowed as a small frown tugged at the corners of your lips. you pulled the laptop towards yourself, eyes narrowed in mild irritation.

"i got this one," you told him, reading as you typed. "you'd... know... all... about... bland... wouldn't you... no-season-susan?"

you hit 'enter' and smiled, self-satisfied. 

but before you or megumi could voice your thoughts on your comment, the soft sound of the bell chiming behind you had the two of you turning in your stools to examine the stoic man walking into the cafe. you pinched megumi's thigh, hard enough for him to angrily slap your hand away with a low grunt. you didn't mind, smiling as you watched the aloof man with the undercut walk up to the other side of the counter and order his food.

"i want to do this one," you said, voice low so as to not attract the attention of the man. "he dressed up as levi and went to the military, asking to join the scout regiment."

megumi peered down at you, blank faced. "where the hell are you going with this?"

"he got sent home."

you watched his face carefully, noting how his eyes shifted away from yours, as if he were suppressing his emotions. you could tell he wanted to laugh; it was evident in the subtle curl of his lips and the slight tremor of his shoulders as he exhaled through his nose.

"that's not levi," he finally settled on saying, glancing at the man in question. "that's ivel."

you grinned. "close enough... i was thinking more along the lines of evil."

your usually stoic friend let out a rare chuckle. with a broad smile, you nudged his side, eager to show him that you had the unique ability to make even him laugh.

"look," you called out to miss B, preparing what looked to be black coffee for mr evil-not-levi, the strong aroma of the coffee beans wafting in the air. "porcupine's smiling! quick, take a picture!"

miss B chuckled, her brows raising so that her soft bangs fell over her closed eyes as she stirred the mixture in the cup. megumi, on the other hand, scowled, any trace of what once held a small smile eradicated.

"too late," he'd said, moving the laptop so it was in front of him instead, and holding the bottom arrow to scroll further down the website with critical eyes.

"you should just take it secretly from now on," you told miss B, watching as she handed the fake-levi his coffee and politely told him to take a seat. she now stood opposite you, smiling as she adjusted the red baker's hat resting on her head. "megumi smiling is a super rare occurrence."

"why would you say that in front of me?" said megumi, looking up and facing you with an expression of mild irritation. "defeats the purpose of secrecy."

"what are you gonna do, attack us?" you challenged, rolling your eyes. "i'll tell my dad never to bring you any of those weird artifacts that you like."

"stop lying."

"okay so maybe i wouldn't do that... but i could change my mind! so you're treading on thin ice, porcupine! i'd be really careful if i were you."

megumi's eyes grew half-lidded, his expression teetering between a scowl and a look of complete disinterest as he stared down at you.

"i'm so scared right now," he stated, the obvious sarcasm making miss B giggle at the interaction. 

you had a witty response resting at the tip of your tongue, but could not execute it in time before the bell by the door had chimed again. all three of you had turned your heads so as to check who had entered. you beamed in excitement, watching as a rather beefy man waddled up to the counter to place his order.

before he had reached it, however, you glanced at miss B, lip curled in interest.

"why don't you have a go?" you asked her, sounding slightly pleading. "i promise you, it'll be fun!"

"because no matter what you say, they're paying my wages," she said calmly, though not unkindly as she prepared to walk over to the other end of the counter to take the man's order. "and it's mean!"

you pouted, looking over at megumi with slightly puckered lips and a frown.

he got the message and (as always) feigned reluctance before turning to scrutinise the stranger. you sat up straighter, a rush of excitement coursing through your veins as you awaited his theory, the disappointment that you had been feeling for all of two seconds evaporating as if it had never been there to begin with.

"he definitely had a wife and three kids with him years ago," he began leisurely, as if to build some suspense to this unconfirmed story, "but someone called cps on him because they would resemble skeletons and he'd resemble the do-the-roar-kid , but if he was older."

"he ate all their food?" you gasped, surprised at the dark turn of events. 

"and their plates too."

"oh!" you nodded, focused. "so like your dad?"

the corners of his mouth turned downwards, and his eyes narrowed, darkening with annoyance.

"i'm not having this conversation with you," he stated matter-of-factly.

you smiled sheepishly. "yeah, don't tell him i said that."

"won't make any promises."

"well then i'll tell satoru that you and hana reunited at the hilltop downtown —"

"he knows you like lying."

"doesn't mean he won't tease you for it regardless."

"..."

"yeah, that's what i thoug—"

"i'll tell everyone tonight about what happened when you lied about being a mermaid —"

your embarrassment surged like a wave, your face growing uncomfortably warm. you felt the heat radiating from your cheeks, a prickling sensation spreading across your skin. your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of anger and mortification causing your pulse to quicken, the heat of your blush intensifying as the urge to defend yourself burned inside you, evident in the way you jammed your elbow into his side. 

you relished in the pained grunt he let out as he rubbed the targeted area, slightly bent forward as he glared up at you through narrowed eyes.

satisfied and proud, you pulled the laptop towards you and scrolled down to find more rude and dishonest reviews to casually debunk and argue with. 

 "'saw rats around in the shape of two kids... they should get an exterminator'..." you read out slowly, a tense silence falling over the two of you and (in your mind) the entire cafe too. your stomach dropped, eyes widening as you snapped your head over to face an already-disgruntled megumi. "is this incel talking about us?"

"ye—"

"how dare it?" you gasped, angrily typing up a response, the sounds of the buttons on the keyboard being pressed more aggressively than it should be resonated around the small interior. "look at the profile picture, that's the guy we shouted at last week!"

megumi leaned in, chin resting a little over your right shoulder as he examined the image with a glower. 

"he could afford to skip a few sweet treats —"

"it, megumi," you corrected, hitting 'enter' after you finished typing up your response. "it could afford to skip a few sweet treats."

he read out your response, tone bland and unwavering:

"'is that why they call you the rat whisperer?'"

he locked eyes with you, his usual blank expression barely masking the faint trace of amusement in his gaze. you looked away, back at the laptop to find another rude comment to respond to. 

"oh, one star review! look!" you said, pointing at the screen enthusiastically. "'chocolate too sweet. bad.'" you stared at the review, unimpressed. "i mean, it's almost as if that's the point."

you sighed and rolled your eyes, fingers flying over the keyboard as you typed a response to the absurd comment. megumi watched quietly, noting the way your eyes narrowed in unimpressed concentration as you crafted your reply. you wouldn't be actively defending this cafe and miss B if you truly believed that her food and service was not good: her bread, pastries, cupcakes, sweet treats were the best in the town. people ought to know that.

your response was quite simple, written in the same manner this liar wrote his:

dave schlager too stupid (chocolate is meant to be sweet). bad.

the bell behind you gave a soft chime, heralding the arrival of yet another customer. however, when you and megumi eagerly and robotically looked over your shoulders to observe the newcomer, you hadn't expected to feel that familiar strain in your stomach, an itch that ran all the way up to your throat, prompting you to laugh. you usually had this reaction when you'd see men, but the sight before you proved otherwise.

the woman who had entered the cafe was a sight to behold. her hair was an untamed mass, sticking out at odd angles that defied any sense of natural order. strands of grey wove through the wild mane, giving it a streaked, chaotic appearance. her eyes were wide and bulging, darting around the room with a manic energy that made them seem even larger. her clothes were dishevelled, adding to her overall rugged and eccentric look, only making it more of a struggle for you to suppress a laugh, her appearance so wildly unconventional, that it seemed almost surreal. you had half a mind to ask megumi to pinch you, but refrained, knowing he'd enjoy it too much. 

the two of you faced the front again. megumi didn't seem too fazed, face stony and tired. you, on the other hand, found your shoulders shaking with the effort of holding back several incoming giggles. he looked down at you, very clearly unmoved. 

"i'm gonna take a wild guess and assume you want to take this one?"

you slapped a hand over your mouth and faked a cough, forehead nearly meeting the table as you hid your laughter, bent forward and chest heaving. you felt megumi's hand tapping and rubbing at your back, almost as if to hold up the act that you were ill. 

you almost thanked him before you heard his low, grumpy voice.

"you're not embarrassing me today."

you didn't even have it in you to shrug his hand off. instead, you straightened up and made an attempt to mask your expression as much as possible, facing him with a sheepish smile.

"her story's not too long," you began, almost letting a giggle slip. almost. "megumi... she stole from the bank and the fbi tased her. and then — and then she got electrocuted!"

you laughed harder at that, making little effort to conceal it. even megumi, who barely ever smiled in a day — and who you very much expected to scold you for this one — looked like he was struggling to hide one (but just scarcely).

he eventually let out a small chuckle, which only encouraged you to laugh some more. you doubled over slightly, gripping onto the counter for support, some of your abandoned math sheets falling on the floor, your infectious giggles filling the quiet air. megumi's lips twitched slightly, a silent chuckle escaping him as he watched your reaction, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. at the sight of him joining in on the fun, you pointed at him, realising something else.

"why are you laughing?" you inquired, then reached down to retrieve a mirror, holding it up so he was met with his own reflection. "haha! you both got struck by lightning!"

his smile had disintegrated, only watching you as you rocked yourself back and forth at his expression, feeling a stitch in your side with how funny the situation was. silently and angrily, he swiped the mirror out of your hands, raising his own hand to flick at your forehead. 

you choked, the minor pain at the centre of your forehead jolting you awake from your laughing fit. scowling, you rubbed at the area he'd intentionally hurt, barely registering the fact that he had taken the laptop to continue attacking the bad reviews.

you let him, acknowledging the fact that what you had said was rather mean. 

"'i came not once, not twice but THREE times for food, every time it tasted not up to par,'" megumi's disinterested voice read aloud, the annoyance from what you'd said still lacing each word with slight venom. you laughed. "why would you go back to a place if you didn't like it? idiot."

"you tell 'em, porcupine," you encouraged, anticipating his response. 

megumi's witty comebacks were always funny. he didn't even mean to make you laugh with them, but even then, they were enough to have you practically rolling around on the floor, belly aching and heart running a million miles per second. his nonchalant behaviour only added to the amusement.

he wrote his reply, sent it, and then slid the laptop over to you. you leaned forward, reading and judging:

stop coming for breakfast, lunch and dinner, we're not a food bank.

you gave that one an 11/10 — the man behind the account would need to change his name, date of birth and identity, and then remove himself from the face of the earth if he ever wanted to recover from that, you concluded wisely.

your praise sat at the tip of your tongue, only to be abandoned at the echo of the bell's chimes that bounced off of the walls, signalling the arrival of another customer. figuring that this would be megumi's turn to create a theory, you turned on your stool excitedly, only to have your jaw drop to the floor and under.

standing in front of the door was none other than your favourite (and only) math teacher of the year: mr kento nanami! 

your heart skipped a beat as you caught sight of your math teacher entering the cafe. shock painted your features as you gawked, wide-eyed, hardly believing that the business-attire man was standing in a setting that wasn't your typical school environment. you exchanged a quick, incredulous glance with megumi before hastily adjusting your posture, trying to appear composed despite the unexpected surprise.

it was typical. he still wore the same clothes (which made sense since you and megumi had too seeing as you went straight to the cafe right after school had finished). but something about seeing him enter such a cottage-vibe, almost feminine cafe made you recoil, not that you were displeased at all. in fact, you thought that this was the best arrival that the bell had drawn your attention to yet!

"kento nanami!" you yelled, ignoring megumi wincing at the sudden volume of your voice as you raised an arm over your head to enthusiastically wave at him. 

a slight scowl of annoyance marred his usually composed face when he heard you call out to him using his government name. his brows furrowed, and a hint of disapproval flashed in his eyes, portraying his strict demeanour, but you didn't mind. surely school rules did not apply outside of the school environment? surely it didn't matter whether you referred to him as kento or mr nanami or whatever?

"kento, look!" you tried again, turning halfway to grab your math homework sheets and present them to him. "i'm sitting here doing your homework! in this beautiful cafe! because of you!"

"actually, you spent the last thirty minutes laughing at my customers and arguing with the bad reviews again," miss B corrected you, apparently materialising out of thin air. 

you jumped slightly, the sheets scattering and your brows furrowing as you watched her shut the laptop and take it away. kento's response also took you by surprise.

"i was correct in believing that it wasn't you disrespectfully responding to them."

he had made his way further down the interior, leading up to the counter where miss B, you, and megumi were.

you beamed. "no, it was megumi and i."

megumi grumbled something along the lines of 'wasn't me', which you knew was a complete and utter lie. megumi was your accomplice in all of this; it didn't matter whether you were the mastermind behind it all. he still served his purpose and did it brilliantly too. you couldn't have asked for a better partner. except, perhaps, nobara, who was equally as good as him at silencing people when it was necessary.

although, kento did not look as though he believed you. you didn't like that much.

"keep an eye out for the one where he told the guy that he shouldn't come so often because we're not a food bank!" you told him honestly, still smiling despite kento's obvious disbelief.

he glanced at megumi as if to say is-this-true? 

you chortled, knowing full well that megumi would not lie with his chest, especially not in front of you.

"megumi is sensible," said kento, with such confidence, you almost felt bad for him. you wondered what his reaction would be if you told him about that one zoo incident where megumi jumped into the gorilla enclosure and declared that he'd stay there for the rest of his life? or the occasion where little you and megumi had been scolded by your parents so badly, he made the suggestion of running away together (and went through with it) even though it was bound to have failed from the beginning? or the time where he helped you torment your unfriendly, rival neighbour mrs daphne on facebook to the point where she had marched down to your houses to complain to your parents? 

megumi is sensible, you thought, and nearly laughed. how comical, loud, and wrong.

"why do you think the punctuation is so perfect?" you asked, raising a brow. "you think i'd care enough to put capital letters and full stops everywhere?"

kento's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he processed the unexpected news. a momentary pause followed, during which his features tensed with mild astonishment, and yours only grew more joyful. megumi, on the other hand, was silently forcing down the urge to push you off your stool and walk home without you (he would never).

"the usual?" miss B interrupted, still smiling the elegant way that she does. 

kento nodded slowly, she began organising his order behind the counter. you blinked several times.

"the usual?" you repeated, bewildered. "kento nana—"

"y/n," he snapped, still composed even so. "refrain from referring to me with my first name."

"we're not at school," you reminded him.

he adjusted the odd, spotted tie he wore, looking irked. "doesn't matter —"

"you come here a lot?" you asked, curious. even megumi seemed interested, and he had been frowning and grumbling the second kento had walked past the door. 

"this place has the best bread in town," he told you, stiff. "better than my local supermarkets."

you grinned. "and miss B is the best cashier and server ever, right?"

you sensed megumi's gaze on you, causing you to adjust the way you sat slightly in your seat. you ignored the feeling, understanding that megumi knew what you were trying to do and was making it extremely clear that he wanted you to look at him for a second, if the way he was tugging at the bottom of your sleeve aggressively was anything to go by. you slapped his hand away, grin widening ever so slightly as the hiss he let out, still getting into character. your role? temporary matchmaker.

kento watched miss B work behind the counter.

"i respect her a lot," he said, barely answering the question. 

you wanted to gruel him for some more information, but your time had been cut short when miss B's soft voice had driven a smooth knife through the heated conversation.

"here you are," she said, handing him his food in a bag. 

he exchanged it for some money, she tried to give him some change, he told her she could keep it. with a final look at you, megumi, and the homework he'd assigned you, he told you to take care of yourselves and left the cafe, his strides even and his back straight. 

what took you by surprise was the fact that miss B had followed him out, waving at him from the door and telling him to come again after a brief conversation with him that you and megumi, from where you were sat, could not hear. she never did this with any of her other customers. you were here so often that you knew she did not. the two of you exchanged looks of obvious bafflement, sitting up straighter and raising your chins to nosily observe the sight before you.

when she returned, you did not miss the rosy pink in her cheeks. 

"miss B —" you began, only for her to interrupt you with a laugh.

"he's a regular customer, quite like the two of you," she said, and then looked around at the mess on the counter that were your unorganised math papers. "and he told me to tell you that you only needed to do page ten and eleven of the booklet."

you felt your stomach flip itself upside down.

you had fried your brain for no reason at all, for you'd completed nearly half of the booklet instead of the assigned designated pages. perhaps that would teach you to meddle in business that wasn't yours, you thought you heard megumi grumble from next to you, but you weren't so sure...

not when you'd dropped your head on the table, hopeless.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

megumi and yuji were both traitors. 

during gym class, coach lauren did not seem to mind that you and nobara had migrated to the corner of the gymnasium, gossiping and laughing about who-knows-what. naturally, the class grew quite boring for the two of you, so you'd snuck out and gone to the football field where you knew coach yaga's class would be residing. 

long story short: megumi and yuji both rat you out and coach yaga had kicked the two of you off his field and had you stay with him for detention. 

all. because. of. them.

so in conclusion, the two of you had seated yourselves far, far away from them in any class that you could, which included satoru's physics class.

you were wary not to sit near malakai, who always had something odd to say to nobara. in fact, when she'd come into school with a brighter, new hair-do (no longer the dark colour that you were so used to) malakai had a few things to say... but that was a story for another day. 

now, you only just realised the mistake you had made sitting on the middle table instead of your regular seats. and it was not because of megumi or yuji, no.

it was because of the drama queen that just so happened to be your male, adult, mature teacher: satoru gojo. 

when taking the register, which usually went by pretty quickly, the second he had come to either of your names, he had started an act that made you believe that perhaps he should have been the one taking performing arts as a subject:

"y/n?" he'd called out, looking around the class as if you were not seated across the whiteboard, the first seat on the middle table. 

"here," you said, unfazed. 

"huh — oh!" he said, resulting in the eyes of everyone in your class to look at you as though you'd done something wrong, as though you were malakai, even. "oh, right, y/n... are you new here?"

you scrunched your nose up in something in between confusion and annoyance. what the hell was he talking about? unlike majority of the people sitting in the classroom, this man knew of your existence since you were four years old. what game was he playing?

"you're joking, right?" you said, watching him carefully as he scratched the top of his head and shrugged. "sa—"

"o-kay!" he perked up, rushing through the register with such ease, you hadn't expected him to stop and squint a second time. but he had. "i might get this one wrong so forgive me but... no— nobara? nobara?" he called out, once more, looking up and all around the classroom as though he couldn't see her sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with you.

unlike you, she had a much shorter fuse that he'd lit.

"what's wrong with you?" she demanded, eyes narrowed. "i'm here."

he raised his eyebrows up at her and nodded, muttering to himself. the two of you were both equally confused, and so was the rest of the class, it seemed, if the whispers were anything to go by.

the register had been completed not long after that. you assumed his weird antics would also finish too, but you were proven wrong once the idiot had opened his mouth to address the class again.

"so we have two new students with us today!" he said, excited. "make them feel welcome! their names are... nobara and..." he thought long and hard before looking over at you, tilting his head forward so you could see the terrifying blues that were hiding behind the circular lenses. "hmm... what's your name again?"

your anger simmered like a pot left too long on the stove, bubbling beneath the surface. as you stared back at satoru's clueless expression, it felt like a storm brewing in your chest, thunderclouds gathering with each passing moment. his feigned ignorance was like a slap in the face, a sharp thorn pricking at your patience, igniting the flames of your frustration.

how dare he?

he moved on to teaching the class before either of you got to call him out for his bullshit. 

only for it to slowly get worse as the time went by. 

he was sat at his desk, explaining the slide from the powerpoint that he'd presented on the board with a lazy smile and stretched out legs that resting on a spare chair.

"what's at the centre of an animal cell?" he asked the class, encouraging people to raise their hands.

nobara raised hers, eager to answer.

"new kid!" he said, and when she glared at him, he backtracked. "i mean nobara! — that was scary — what's at the centre of an animal cell?"

"the nucleus," she answered. 

he frowned. "huh?"

she frowned. "the nucleus," she repeated helpfully.

he leaned forwards, a hand cupping his ear. "sorry, i can't hear you, you're too far away."

oh, it made sense now, you thought in your head. he was throwing a fit over the fact that the two of you had chosen to sit in the centre of the room, a little further away from his desk, than at the back table with megumi and yuji, closer to him.

what a diva.

he directed the question to maryam, who sat at the table closest to the door and furthest from his desk.

"you're right! it's the nucleus!" he cheerfully praised her, continuing to teach as though he hadn't just distracted the entire class due to his theatrics. even malakai sensed something was wrong, claiming that 'the darkness is starting to reach the lightness of his hair... it is consuming him', whatever the hell that meant.

it hadn't ended there though, for when the worksheets were being handed out by yuji, he had completely skipped over you and nobara (though he looked quite frightened at doing so). it was no doubt satoru's instructions he was acting on behalf of.

"give it," nobara demanded, standing up and approaching him.

yuji held the papers close to his chest. "but mr gojo said —"

"mr gojo also once said that he's married with thirteen kids, do you believe that?" 

she forcefully snatched two sheets from him, marching back to where she was sat with you and slammed them down onto the table with such force, it shook, your pencil committing suicide off the edge.

"men will be the death of everyone, mark my words," she'd said.

when you raised a hand for help, your pencil clasped in your curled fingers, he asked what happened to gravity and why an inanimate object was suddenly floating. 

that was the last straw for you. 

if he was going to pretend that you had miraculously turned invisible, then you were going to do as you pleased with this ability. pencil still in your tight grasp, you stood up, made eye contact with your childish teacher, and sprinted out of the classroom.

satoru perked up, alarmed as he ordered for help.

"whoever's closest to the door, close it before she —"

you'd already left.

he let out a long sigh, only to raise a brow when you'd returned the second you'd disappeared from view, running across the classroom to take nobara's hand, glance up at your teacher, and say...

"malakai."

— before taking off with your friend, chaos ensuing behind you.

the chaos being malakai emerging from under the sink, arms flailing around himself, eyes rolling to the back of his head, snarling and growling as he shook, only creating more issues for satoru who, everyone knew, hated dealing with the odd emo.

that'd teach him to pretend that you (out of everyone) were invisible.

lesson learned, he thought in his head, letting out a loud and drawn out groan when malakai refused to stop.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

(random tweets cuz i think you guys waited long enough for this chapter to come out, eat well 😁)

(p.s. ignore the date on the tweet, it was meant to say 2017 lmao)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: i'm so tired, gonna take a longgg nap. not my favourite chapter tbh, but it's needed to set the scene for high school because the real part of the story (the one where all the drama starts and stuff) is arriving in less than three chapters!! and we also have a lovely character, important to the plot, to introduce next chapter, so stay tuned my little liars?

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @myguumi @momoewn @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[richardsondavis]

First car: “I can’t take this kind of pressure. I must confess one more dusty road would be just a raod too long.” He’s the car of an old workingman who had a long life of service. The car was worn down from year after year after year of driving a long commute on a dusty road. The engine and air filters gave out one day when the road was way too long and hard. He represents the work exhausted, those who can't handle the pressures of work and life.

Second car: “I just can’t, I just can’t, I just can’t seem to get started. Don’t have the heart to live in the fast lane. All that is passed and gone.” I would assume that this was the car of a female in either college or high school. She wasn't driven much before she conked out while her new owner was driving on the freeway. Given how she mimicked a failed starting engine for her first line, chances are it was a serious problem with the electrical system. This car represents the depressed. Life speeds past these people, because they can't get started.

Third car: “I come from Kasi, Missouri. I got my kicks out on Route 66, every truck stop from Butte to MO. Motown to Old Alabama. From Texarkana and east of Savannah From Tampa to old Kokomo.” His owner was a definite drifter and rode all around the states, especially on every stop you can think of on Route 66. He was driven hard and fast until his axiles busted. He probably rode on a very rough patch of road and was structurally damaged. This car represents the drifters, who drift along without any point, never rooting down. But, he clearly has an appreciation and zest for life. As he is on the conveyor belt, he is seen turning his wheel in a vein attempt to get off of the belt. He can’t turn, because he is old and beat up.

Fourth Car: “I once ran the Indy 500. I must confess I'm impressed how I did and I wonder how close that I came. Now I get a sinking sensation. I was the top of the line, out of sight; out of mind so much for fortune and fame.” This oldie was a top of the line race car and genuine contender for the Indianapolis 500 during his last run. He likely lost control when his wheels failed (note his missing wheels on one side). He skid out of control. I'd say he managed to avoid crashing and killing the driver. The car was deemed a failure by whoever built him and he was mothballed. This car represents the has-beens who were once famous or important, but have been tossed aside.

Fifth and Sixth related. The fifth car says “Once took a Texan to a wedding, once took a Texan to a wedding. He kept forgetting, his loneliness letting his thoughts turn to home and we turned.” The sixth car said “I took a man to a graveyard. I beg your pardon, it's quite hard enough just living with the stuff I have learned.” After the fifth car is placed on the conveyor belt, the sixth car is placed on top of the fifth car and the two are crushed together. That was probably to represent the fact that the two drove the same man. The Texan probably died while driving the fifth car and the sixth car was likely a funeral hearse which drove the Texan’s dead body to the funeral.

Fifth Car: This limo was taking a Texan man to his best friends wedding wedding. The mention of lonliness gives me the impression that the Texan likely was not the groom. This guy was forgetting something due to feeling lonely. I get the vibe that he was showing up for a friend's wedding, and just couldn't take the feeling that he was still single and alone while his friend was happy with a new wife. He forgot about his obligation out of pain, and demanded to be turned around. This car represents the uncommitted, who are unable to commit to their relationships or love. Based on how dented the limo was, I would assume that the Texan died while riding in the limo. Which leads to...

Sixth Car: The last line of the fifth car felt unfinished. Regardless, the Hearse was there to take the Texan to his funeral, but got into his own accident on the way. It's hard to see but you can see serious dents and a busted headlight in his front. I think he might have gotten stuck in another accident on the way to the funeral, and he saw that the coffin he was carrying was filled with a dead man when it accidentally burst open. He learned that death touched humans too, and he couldn't live with this knowledge.

Seventh car: “Once drove a surfer to Sunset, there were bikinis and buns, there were weenies. Fellini just couldn't forget. Pico, let's go up to Zuma, Pico, let's go up to Zuma. From Zuma to Yuma the rumor was I had a hand in the lay of the land. Get up and go hit the highway.” This one was owned by a college male. This guy was very likely laid back dude who liked surfin and goofing around with his friend Pico. The car had dings and dents from a few fender benders, but her master treated her well and took her everywhere. He was likely a campus legend, but she remembers him as the master who shredded waves from Zuma Beach to kayaking on the Colorado at Yuma. Based on the clearly bitten surf board, I am guessing that the master was eaten by a shark. His mourning family scrapped the car with the surf board. This car represents the traumatized, people who suffer from mental illness or trauma and are unable to cope.

Eight car: “I worked on a reservation. Who would believe they would love me and leave On a bus back to old Santa Fe? Once in an Indian Nation. I took the kids on the skids where the Hopi was happy 'til I heard 'em say... The rest of the things in the junk yard say: "You're worthless."

This car worked on what was likely the Hopi and Tewa reservation as an impromptu bus for the community. He was likely used frequently by one family in particular, who used him to take their kids out of the place and for long haul goods carting. He grew to love that family, in particular the kids. He was a tough and reliable old truck with at least some more time in him left, but his heart broke when that family chose to ditch him and leave the reservation. He took them out to the skids, thinking he was just taking the kids out there to play like usual. They then got on a long bus to Santa Fe, and called the reservation and himself by extension worthless. He couldn't take this rejection and essentially refused to work out of depression. There was this one detail that is very easy to miss if you do not pay attention. I probably would not have noticed it if people on the internet had not pointed it out. As the magnet waves over this car, the truck drives off screan and is seen parked on the conveyor belt in the next scene. He was about to die, but chose to go out on his own terms, because the last thing that he would want to do is give the crane the satisfaction of knowing that he (the crane) is what sent him (the car) to his death. His musical number that he sings to achive a catharsis before his death is just as sad as that of the rest of the cars, but for a different reason. For the rest of the cars, they were sad, because they weren’t ready to die and they all tried in vein to resist it. This one was actually capable of resisting it, but he didn’t. His story was depressing in a “I am so sick of life” kind of way. This car represents the elderly, who were loved by their families, but age has made them worthless.

All of these cars represent a collective experience of the way depression affects the mind. Each one has a story and even achievements. Each one has a life: but despite any of it, they are 'worthless'. The crusher is a symbol for death and suicide. The conveyor belt a symbol of struggle. All vehicles (aside form the last) attempt to resist it. This means that each car represents different levels of depression, from mild to severe. And each is handicapt so that it cannot escape the crusher. This is what depression actually does to a healthy mind. The knowledge of being loved and having some sense of worth disappears, you become drained of energy, and you become blinded to the truth of your own value. You stop bathing, sometimes even 'getting started' on anything. Left untreated, and especially if the sufferer finds confirmation, the feeling of being worthless ends in suicide.

[just-some-sad-kiddo]

This morning, I woke up a little before my alarm and did a little bit of journaling since I don’t like going on electronics first thing in the morning. It was nice to get some thoughts out. I’m thinking that when my Google home arrives, I’ll set it up to play some easy, gentle music in the morning. I also need to get a blindfold or something for my morning meditation because I get distracted too easily when I open my eyes but I always forget to keep them closed.

I think I want to try putting boba into the Yorkshire tea. I mean, it’s just milk tea. They just call it tea here, of course, but for me it’s milk tea. Charlotte told me that there was a good Asian food shop in York that she and her friends go to sometimes.

I need to ask Shannon if he wants to visit for Christmas. Mom said that she’d pay for his ticket if he did since Dad wouldn’t be obligated to at that point. I hope that he does decide to come since we did have a lot of fun when all of us went to England together the last time.

So, I’ve started writing my thoughts on paper during the day so that I don’t get distracted while I’m trying to work. I think I might also start doing a handwriting journal since, honestly, my handwriting could be better. 

I need to start working on my GCSE shit. That’s the English version of the SATs but I need to figure out how they work and how to study for them. I was hoping that i’d be able to find some kind of remote option for school since that’s what I’m used to, but all of the remote options don’t work for me. First off, they’re expensive as hell and second, they never have any art courses. It makes sense that you have to do art in-person but my last school experience was so miserable that I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it. I’ve really been spoiled lately with my online learning i’ve been doing for the past year. I wear what I want, eat what I want, work when I want, and I can wear my headphones so that I don’t experience any sensory overload. I can’t do pretty much any of that shit at Selby which is just fantastic. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever failed a class due to my literal disability. Oh, wait. I have. Multiple times. Of course, when I expressed my concerns to Mom, she did the thing where it’s illegal for me to be upset. Honestly, why do I tell her anything anymore? She does this every time. If I went back through my journal and looked, I’d probably find a thousand times she’s done this. I seriously need to remember not to say anything negative around her ever. She’s the only one who is allowed emotions. Who cares that I had a meltdown earlier today because Athena and Eris wouldn’t stop fighting? It’s not like it’s a big deal or anything. I’m just an angsty teenage pessimist who doesn’t have any real problems. 

This house is really cold, but nobody wants to turn the heat on because of how expensive electricity is right now because of the Russia/Ukraine war. I can’t even step into the kitchen barefoot or my feet will literally freeze. Trust me, I tried it yesterday. Worst mistake of my life.

I’m really, really excited to start working. I turned in my resume today at Gingers, but I don’t really think I’ll get the job. For one, I didn’t have a UK phone number so I put Tony’s on my CV. And, since Angela wasn’t there, I didn’t have the opportunity to tell her that it was Tony’s number. It seems unprofessional to have your parents number on your CV, is it not? But, anyway, when I get my new number I’m going to apply at the list of places Tony gave me. Luckily, everything in Howden closes by 3 anyways. I want to save up money so I can perm my hair nicely and also get my workout clothes and duffle bag for the gym. I also would like to get a Squarespace subscription so I can get myself a professional website to host my work. And buy a not-shitty printer.

I went to the park. It was nice, although I did get lost on the way. I also got lost when turning in my CV. It makes things harder that everyone drives like a psycho here. Literally insane. 

The lock on the door is still fucked up so Tony called locksmith so come fix it. In the meantime, I wanted to go to the gym so Paul drove me. I would have taken the bus, but much like in Fort Collins, they stop running really early. Also, they’re really expensive and all owned by private companies that don’t communicate with eachother. Thing is, I didn’t realize I’d have to get an induction as I’d never heard of that before. We call them orientations in America, but I’d never heard of that either. In fact, it seems I’m the only one whose never heard of that because everyone else knew what was going on. Anyway, I’ve set it up for 10:00am Saturday.

The gym is near these flats which are apparently very dangerous according to Tony and Paul. They say they’ve had the most bodies they’re from drugs and people jumpin’ out of windows. I forgot that Paul was also in the medical field.

[doorbloggr]

Media Recommendations #44 - A New Start

Friday 20/01/23

Contents

Lycoris Recoil

Pokemon Scarlet

Thanks to school holidays it has been a really slow start to my year. Haven't committed to any hobbies that seriously, creating art has been sparse considering the free time I have, and I haven't dug into a whole lot of media. But it's OK to take it at whatever pace. Just do you.

In terms of this blog, this is a project i have no intention of giving up this year, and i apologise anyone who's followed me and is disappointed with the lack of articles. As I sit down to write this article now, I am committing to not worry so much about how good my writing is, and just write. Today I am recommending an anime and a videogame. And for my sake and yours, I will try and probably fail to make these recommendations short.

Lycoris Recoil

A-1 Pictures / Spider Lily

Flipping through my recommendations on this blog and you'll definitely see I have recurring tastes when it comes to anime. I love a good slice of life, and I'm a fan of flashy action, and some notable faves of mine, namely Spy x Family and Sakamoto Days, blend the two together. Lycoris Recoil is another gem in the same vein.

The series is set in a fictional version of Japan where all crime is closely monitored, prevented and covered up by secret organisations of able bodied youth. One such organisation is the Lycoris, spies and assassins that patrol city streets disguised as highschoolers. We follow Takina Inoue, who, due to a lapse of judgement in the field, has been transferred out of HQ to work alongside Chisato Nishikigi, a somewhat unorthodox agent who's CQC and firearm skills are unparalleled.

The two girls work in a Café named Lyco Reco as a cover, and when a job comes up, their handler, who is also the Café's manager, sends them into the field. Takina starts her new position with the same cold and calculating attitude that was drilled into her by HQ, but Chisato takes a more positive and hopeful outlook on life.

Chisato impresses on Takina the importance of caring for everyone in the city, and that goes beyond silencing criminals with a gun. It means helping people across the street, delivering sweets, doing errands, and just making life easier in general. Chisato even extends this kindness to opponents in her operations, making sure nobody dies. Everyone has a life, family, friends, and the right to a happy life, and this begins to change how Takina sees her role as a Lycoris.

I won't go on any further for fear of spoilers, but Lycoris Recoil is a really good gun and martial arts action anime, but also a sweet slice of life about seeing the beauty in caring for others. If my recommendation has your attention, give it a watch.

Pokemon Scarlet / Violet

The Pokemon Company/Game Freak

I know I'm very late on the bandwagon here, but I had been putting off getting the newest Pokémon game for a while, and only finished my playthrough a week or so ago. Why that is will colour how I'm approaching this review, so before I proceed:

I am a jaded pokemon fan who has been playing for a long time and has found the series to have lost some of its spark. My distaste of the newer generations is made of mostly petty reasons, and I wholly understand at 27, I am not the target audience anymore.

So what did I think? I think Generation 9 of Pokémon is definitely a turn in the right direction. If you have been living under a rock and don't know what this series is about, here's a brief sell:

You play the role of a Pokémon Trainer, one who collects and battles creatures called Pokémon. It is a turn based RPG, where the party is made of 6 Pokemon you catch or trade and can customise on the fly. The aim of the game is to either catch and catalogue every Pokémon available in the game or make a team strong enough to become a Champion, a true master of battle.

At its core, the game does nothing different, in fact, one of the points I praised about Pokémon Legends Arceus (working on the Pokédex), has regressed. But as Reggie Fils-Aime once said: "The game... is fun."

What is different at is core is freedom. Pokemon Sword/Shield gave us a taste of the concept and failed, but Pokémon SV (after a brief opening section) gives the player the entire region to explore right at the beginning. And instead of the one main progression of the old games (gym battles), there are instead 3 campaigns to complete, in any order if you are daring enough. 1 is the Pokémon League (the gym challenge), 2 is Team Star, a group of troublemakers who need lessons taught, and 3 is the Titan Pokémon and Herba Mystica, a quest to battle bosses and grow your Ride Pokemon.

This Ride Pokemon is the other main draw to the game, a Lizard Motorbike Legendary (Koraidon for Scarlet, Miraidon for Violet) who you don't actually get to use in battle until much later, but serves the role of fast transportation. While each of the three questlines can be done whenever, I'd argue the Herba Mystica line is most important because finding these Herbs gives new abilities to your Lizard bike. Swimming, Gliding, Higher Jumps, and climbing on Walls are locked behind these Herbs. I think having to unlock the abilities over time is good, but it means the other campaigns are less important by association.

The unspoken fourth quest, the Pokédex, is a lot bigger than in past games, but also a lot easier to finish. Like Legends Arceus, all encounterable Pokemon are just walking around, waiting to be walked into. Previously rare Pokémon can be found in large packs on the overworld, and Pokémon who are difficult to evolve can be found in their evolved forms, right alongside their prevolutions. I am undecided whether making the Pokédex more achievable is a good thing or not, but it sure makes it a different experience.

The game is never overly difficult, but challenging enough. You have the option of doing gyms and other challenges in any order, and while you may fight a couple a bit early by accident, level progression never felt too slow and i never needed to stop and grind, a good sign for an RPG. The true ending can not be experienced without the main three campaigns being completed. And for once, the story is good. It is emotional and satisfying to finish.

So is this the worst Pokemon Generation? Hell no. Is it the best? I don't think so at all. I personally think Pokemon SV were better than Sun/Moon, and Sword/Shield, but it feels disappointing that Legends Arceus was such a highlight for the series for them to just attempt to go back. They did keep a lot of the better parts of Legends Arceus, but it's still not there. I enjoyed my time with Pokemon Scarlet/Violet, and if you like Pokémon games, it is an easy recommend.

[familiaanteomnia]

(tbh this is probably utter gibberish but like *finger guns* i’ll babble cuz why the fuck not) *verse(s) that doesn’t change the core of them as people but like also it’s like they meet prior to just constantly getting baseball batted by life* ----------- Staring up those steps; at those doors... his thumb tapped the volume up. Blaring it in his headphones like it could emulate confidence. Just had to retrieve his brother and get out without issues. Yet it went immediately wrong as soon he entered the building. Feeling his jacket get caught in the shutting door. Handling it with grace, thinking rationally? Would have been ideal. Instead, managing to basically spring load some momentum into the act of freeing himself. Barely avoiding slamming into a blur of somebody. Cushioning his fall to be less dangerous. Which didn’t look graceful or harmless either. At least the music was still playing- headphones only a bit askew on his head. He didn’t know how to interact with people really. Especially not the cute boy he’d nearly collided into. Or who witnessed the clumsy, painful looking tumble. Did know however- from the paperwork in hand was literally a kid who likely just got in. Bit late into the school year. But of course, it only made sense they had already replaced whatever poor kid had been burnt out into leaving already with somebody else off the waiting list. Apologizing sincerely and then quite literally scampering off- he didn’t trust himself to not call the other cute or some other could be social faux paux. ------------ Fingers fiddled around in his jacket pocket; comforting himself with the moth man plush in his pocket. It really was starting to look like he’d start attending soon. Idle time, the status of limbo would shift and life would really become different. It was what he wanted. What he’d dreamed about lots growing up. Yet he didn’t look forward to the cruelty of others. High school nonsense and high pressure. “ Plenty of negatives- however he could also hope to make some real friends. Not thinking too much about it, the downsides to that thought nor the maybe absurdity of wanting to see if the cute boy from a week or so ago would be one. Startling at the loud noise of some locker being slammed shut. Causing him to knock the plush out of his pocket. Eyes landing on the nearest wall clock. Quickly exiting out the doors, unaware of his lost belonging. ------------ It was probably stupid, if you went by absurd general population logic. Yet he couldn’t get enough of the custom fangs. Making all sorts of faces at his reflection. Truthfully it was continued trying to keep himself from bolting out the building. First day, first day of his favorite month and destined to be great. Yet of course, plenty of doom and gloom existed. Sure on the bright side it seemed his brother’s bullying had died down; or shifted whatever the specifics it was less intense. Very likely due to the jock’s egos not feeling threatened; the realization his brother tried and failed to get on the team but that was it. No getting bought onto the team. Or any messed up need to focus on it overall. Sticking his tongue out between them. Eyes sparkling with delight in the restroom mirror. Noticing the door open, feeling like climbing out the window and it didn’t get less intense seeing who had entered. What was school restroom behavior? In general, what exactly was he supposed to do about the situation? Feeling his face get warm; unable to tell he was blushing as he’d faced away from the mirror. “Hey!.” Too enthusiastic? Most certainly especially for so early in the day. Brain racing faster than his heartbeat about the situation. Awkward. Friendly grin, lopsided so only one fake fang was visible. “I mean- I’ll get out of your way... Sorry.” Picking his backpack up off the floor and slinging one strap over his shoulder. Opening the door with his boot, only hopping- stumbling slightly before disappearing out into the hallway.

[sophiria]

highball

pairing: soft!yandere Matsukawa x fem!reader x soft!yandere Hanamaki

content warnings and tags: 18+, dubcon due to alcohol, explicit sexual content (threesome, vaginal and oral sex, creampie), manipulation, non-consensual photo-taking, angsty undertones due to past failed relationships, timeskip manga spoilers

word count: just a bit over 1k

8.00 pm

Matsukawa and Hanamaki got up from their seats as you approached them, greeting you with the affectionate hug they always reserved for you. The Izakaya you chose for the reunion was located west of Sendai Castle, in the same area as your old high school, Aoba Johsai. Their drinks of choice, a glass of Blackberry Whiskey for Mattsun and a Cassis Orange for Makki, were placed on their table alongside a Hoppy drink, the barely alcoholic beverage they knew you often order before selecting something stronger.

They invited you to sit in between them, and then the three of you began to make up for the lost time. Perhaps still dazed from the trip back home to Miyagi, you kept missing the restless looks they shared whenever you seemed to be holding something back throughout the dinner.

"You can talk to us about anything, you know?" Mattsun murmured in your ear, and your cheeks heated up as you perceived his warm breath on your skin, "I can tell from your gaze that you're far away from us tonight."

Makki hummed in agreement, scooting even closer to you. "We already know that something important happened because Iwa told us," he informed you (a half-truth really, because he and Mattsun were aware of everything), "we're not here to judge, whatever it is."

You removed your cardigan as the room temperature rose (though you didn't know if it was because of the alcohol, your emotions about what happened in your private life, or the way their bodies were incredibly close to yours.)

"I'm sorry I'm being a buzzkill tonight guys," you told them, letting out a dry chuckle, "I'm probably tired from the trip, and…" you heaved a sigh, "I still haven't processed the heartbreak."

Mattsun grasped your chin, angling your face towards him. "Did someone break your heart?"

You gnawed at your lower lip. "My ex-boyfriends, actually," you replied, and Makki placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "they simply realized they didn't want me anymore. And it hurts even more because we used to be friends before we got together."

Issei clicked his tongue. "They're nothing but assholes," he drawled, and Takahiro smirked, "they don't deserve your heart and mind."

(and body, Mattsun wanted to add, but he stopped short. It wasn't the right time of the night, not yet.)

A bittersweet smile appeared on your lips. "I thought they were different, but I guess you can't trust people. Not even when they're your close friends."

It was Makki's turn to angle your face towards him. "I hope you don't think that of Mattsun and me as well," his tone was gentle, but there was a dangerous edge that made you shiver slightly, "we from Seijoh will always have your back, you know that, right?"

You patted his cheek. "That's why I'm tempted to return to Sendai," you said, and their eyes twinkled with veiled euphoria, "Oikawa is in San Juan, and Iwa, of course, lives in Tokyo, but I've got you two here, right?" You turned towards Mattsun anew, observing how a soft smile appeared on his lips. Your eyes wandered from one to the other, gauging their reactions to your words. They seemed content enough, but still, insecurity washed over you. "Of course, I won't be in your way all the time if you're worried about that."

Issei stared at Takahiro for a few moments, and then their gazes were on you once more.

"Trust us, doll," Matsukawa spoke up, "neither of us would mind if you stayed with us all the time."

11.00 pm

The moment the three of you walked through the door of Issei's apartment, Hanamaki was the first to slip his tongue inside your mouth, all while Matsukawa began undressing you and whispering how much they had wanted you all along. It didn't take long for you to end up naked and over the kitchen counter, Makki impaling you on his cock as his fingers rubbed in circles over your clit while Mattsun seized your jaw and guided his length inside the wet heat of your mouth. Then it was the couch, Matsukawa plunging into you from behind as he gripped the nape of your neck, and Hanamaki swirled his tongue around your nipples, his deft fingers slipping in and out of your pussy at the same time Mattsun's cock was filling you up.

Soon, you were deep-throating Makki as he muttered curses and praises while Mattsun murmured how well you were taking them as he sucked on your clit and curled his fingers against your g-spot. Your entire body was on fire, and your nerves tingled with desire as their hands and tongues constantly overwhelmed every inch of your bare skin.

Near the end of your first night together, Mattsun brought you to his bed and began thrusting in and out of your slippery pussy as Makki kept your legs folded against your chest, speaking low in your ear about how they would be the only ones seeing you like this from now on.

Only moans, pleads, and gasps along with their names left your lips, and your back arched as you shuddered and came on Mattsun's cock once more, while Makki's hands kept stroking your clit until you were overstimulated and tears of ecstasy pooled in the corner of your eyes.

1.00 am

The moment you closed your eyes and fell asleep in the middle of the bed, Matsukawa and Hanamaki couldn't help but admire the image in front of them: you were resting on your back with your lips and legs slightly parted, traces of cum seeping between your thighs, and a gossamer sheen was smeared over your pussy. The bedsheets rustled around your body, one arm placed under your breasts while the other was over your head. In their eyes, you truly looked like you came out of a painting.

"Didn't Iwa give us the numbers of the ex-boyfriends?"

Hanamaki nodded, taking the phone out of the pocket of his discarded pants. "Yeah, he did."

Matsukawa's eyes were still fixed on your figure. "You still know how to send untraceable messages, right, Makki?"

A smirk appeared on the corner of Hanamaki's lips. "Are you thinking about what I think you're thinking about?"

Matsukawa tilted his head towards his best friend. "They should know that what they lost isn't theirs anymore, and maybe it never was."

Their eyes glinted as they shared a knowing look, and Makki handed the phone to Mattsun. "I'm good with technology, but you're better at taking pictures."

A full body shot, then one of your upper body with your face and breasts on display, and the third one with your pussy and legs in the frame.

You often told them you didn't feel like the photogenic type, but Makki and Mattsun would always disagree.

Hanamaki smiled to himself as he looked at the pictures Issei took, "Do you think they'll contact her once they see the photos?"

Matsukawa smirked softly. "From what Iwaizumi told me, Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi have quite the personalities. So I don't have doubts about that."

1.30 am

[mikeyelistsukasa]

How about a idol/famous? (Idk) au where Mitsuba, Kou, and Teru who loves to spoil their shy s/o to death, but they have a hard time smiling due to their past? And they will try anything to make their s/o smile no matter what, so they went to this random event where they finally smiled for the first time (hopefully this made sense 🥲)

(ALSO I LOVED THE DRAWINGS YOU MADE 🥺💖)

I can’t believe i needed a month for it. Mitsuba’s is so short because i lost the files for him 6TIMES i struggled w the request so i had to change it a bit so sorry abt that.not proofread

How the hell did u two end up together ??????

Srsly HOW

Ohhhhh you were sakura’s/tsukasa’s/kou’s friend how classssiccc🙄

Anyway-

Since we talk about Mitsuba it’s obvious that he would first say some nasty remarks every time he saw you sad

But that didn’t help(well obviously what did you expect)

Thats why he tried ACTUALLY offered to listen to your struggles

Wdym u don’t need noone to talk??? Then stop being sad>:(

Buying your favourites also didn’t help you awe :(

So he decided to do something he thought he would never do

Bring you to his favourite secret place

„Can i finally open my eyes?“

You say in a exhausting voice

„Not yet so stop nagging“

You mentally rolled your eyes

„Alright we are here“

„Finally! It’s about….time“

„I introduce you! My hiding spot✨“

„Mitsuba…this…this is amazing!“

„Ofc its amazing! My taste in places was always…beautiful…“

His mind was empty when he saw your face.your smile.

It was so beautiful!

„Thank you mitsuba! You’re the best“

After you gave him a small kiss on the cheek he promised himself one thing

He’d promise to make you smile like that more often

Now you two together make more sense 🤝

He also found out about by someone else (aka yashiro or teru)

This poor boy was kind of nervous approaching you

You thought he was nervous to talk to you because he found out who you are but-

That wasn’t the case

Like AT ALL

its just that he is sorta shy around new people(mostly girls)

And you kind of looked sad so he thought maybe it was a bad timing to approach you

You were relieved that it wasn’t the first thing you thought

As you two started talking more and more you two developed feelings for eachother

You liked how kou gave his best to make you smile

You two enjoyed baking together

But one day

You felt comfortable enough around him to reveal yourself as an idol/singer

The exorcist was too stunned to speak

This dude started treating you like you’re a queen and he went back to his shy self

Like a celebrity? Hanging out with HIM?

„Im probably dreaming“

*pinch*

…

He wasn’t dreaming at all

His crush a celebrity wow

Lord have mercy when you two started dating

Him being a bit insecure always thought that you don’t like being with him

Thats why he was bringing you lots of gift in some hopes

„S/o-san/kun! I baked you these heart shaped mini cakes! Please take them!!!“

„Oh thank you kou you didn’t had to…“

T-T mission failed you didn’t smile

More like the opposite you looked even more depressed

Its not that you didn’t like the gift its just it feels as if he made you these just because of who you are

God were you wrong

He came home disappointed when suddenly his brother teru popped up

„Yo kou. Look ive got 2 tickets from a secret admirer at school. Probably another fan.I don’t feel like going so i thought maybe you might want them?“

💡💡💡

„YES PLEASE GIVE ME“

„Haha calm down here“

It was 2 tickets for a… carnival?

Nonetheless he thought it was worth a shot

He looked at the data of the tickets and asked you if you could come to *address* at *idk insert some time*

You messaged back with a yes since you got curious on why he wants to see you so badly.

You dressed up not too fancy and went on your way

„Hey! So where are we going?“

„TO Aaaaaaa CARNIVAL!“

„Carn-? Woah hey no need to pull im coming im coming“

You two only took one step into the carnival and your eyes were already glowing from excitement

„Woah…“

„Follow me!“

Lets just say you had lots of fun on all those rides

Kou even won you a huge white rabbit! How adorable

Before you guys went home you two decided to go on the ferry wheel

When you two got on top of it you were able to see everything from up there.

Thats when you smile.

„Look! It’s that trashy ride that made me throw up hahahah…“

It felt like the whole time froze when he saw your smile

I mean you were so happy what else could you want more other than being on a top of a ferry wheel with your beloved one and a huge stuffed animal.

You looked into kou‘s direction

„thank you kou. I owe you one“

That smile was weak but it was a genuine soft smile

„I-uh uhm well no wait- it’s alright no problem hah-„

He will definitely cook teru his favourite meal after this ends

You two met at cooking class(let’s pretend tbhk has this)

„S/o L/n and teru minamoto“

Suddenly you felt like everyone was staring at you

Which they were

„Hey! Im teru nice to meet you. Im gonna be your partner for today. Im bad at cooking though so i will just try to assist you“

„I- uhm no Worries“

He cant be THAT bad at cooking right?

„WHY IS THE OVEN TURNED ON SUCH A HIGH DEGREE IT BURNED THE BUNS“

„Ah sorry my bad haha“

„why you little-„

*death stares around the room*

„Hah its alright we can make new ones“

It was fun to hangout with you so he decided to secretly keep having contact with you

*cough cough cuz of fans cough*

As much as he enjoyed your company he noticed that he never saw you genuinely smile.

He did question at least once

„Hey um are you alright?“

If you won’t tell him he would be concerned on what is going on but won’t push you into telling him

He is honestly the only one that won’t put lots of effort into making you smile

Buuut he will try eventually

But to no luck just like the other two

But one day one of his fans gave him 2 tickets to a show to look at the dolphins. As a thank you for helping them yesterday

The two tickets were meant for him and his brother kou and well

The thing is kou has detention

„i warned him. You will get caught in the girls bathroom eventually“

He laughed to himself remembering the scene

Thats when it hit him that he could invite you

You ofc not having anything to do exept be prepared for the next concert agreed

You didn’t know the tickets were given to him

So you eventually took your seats and waited for the show to start.

It was fun. But not fun enough to make you smile

He already lost all his hopes while standing in a line with you to pet the dolphins

Thats when a miracle happened

You smiled to yourself when the dolphin made a sound from your touch

„Do you think he likes it teru?“

„Hm? Oh yeah i gue𝚜𝚜...’’

Woah

So is that how you like when you smile?

Ngl this made the boy blush a little

Its like he fell for you again.

He sat down next to you to pet the dolphin with you.

“You know…”

“?”

“You should smile more often.it looks good on you sweetheart”

0///0

Thank you for your request sorry it took so long🥲 have a nice day and visit again!