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masterlist

chapter 3

warnings: crude language. also, I changed the doctors last name because Newman is too close to Neuman and these characters (Veronica and Pamela) are not related. Now shes Dr. Harlow.

rocky mountain human services is kickin the can down the road again, & even tho my partner is technically approved for services the documentation "hasn't hit [their] systems yet" for final confirmation. we qualify for expedited processin now that we're homeless, yet no word from mal's assigned case manager, their supervisor, nor the program manager. so we're STILL waitin for them to get their ducks in a row to help us while we keep twistin on the hook.

my medical cannabis certification is goin out in 10 days, which is horribly detrimental because i treat my chronic pain with higher-dose edibles than i can reasonably/legally buy at a recreational place. also rec tax is wildly higher than med, so med card keeps my costs as low as possible. that one costs about $120 after specialist visit & state fees.

we need to keep our cheap motel roof over our heads as long as possible as we haven't heard back from the trans shelter we applied to & we'll be separated otherwise, which is no good for my partner's fragile medical condition. we're at least gettin about the best rate we can but it's still runnin us at least $70/night, every night. i've spent every cent of our recent donations to house us through tonight (22 july) so if we can't continue stayin here it's the street again from tomorrow (23 july) until... well, who knows?

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I'm giving my advice based on the idea that you are also an American because you call it college, may not be relevant if you're not.

Staring with my academic advice:

#1: Do the damn reading. Genuinely, if you have assigned reading in a class, DO IT! Especially if it's a seminar style class, because the reading is the whole point of those classes!

#2: Participate in class. Ask and answer questions, make comments. Related to this, go to class. You're paying to be there, every class you choose not to go to is you wasting money. Obviously if you're sick that's one thing, but I know people who signed up for classes and then just never attended because it was at 8 AM or something and that's a terrible idea.

#3: Show that you are a consistent and hardworking individual and Professors will be willing to accommodate you when you need it. I always did my work and showed up to class and actively participated, so when I did have a depressive episode and needed a bailout for some assignments, my professors were more than willing to give me extensions.

#4: Don't be afraid to ask for help! Go to office hours if you're struggling, see if your college has tutoring programs, straight up tell your Professor you don't know what's going on. No one wants you to fail out of college, they want to do their best to help you succeed.

#5: As a related point to the above, if you have a diagnosed disability by a doctor, go to your school's academic services department and set up accommodations. It may not be as elaborate as your IEP plan from high school, but again assuming you're an American, your university does still have to follow the ADA and provide reasonable accommodations for you that your professors have to follow legally. I've had people I knew who had accommodations like being allowed extra time for tests, taking tests in separate rooms, being permitted to take notes digitally, and things like that.

Now onto my social advice:

#6: You will probably feel homesick your first few months of college. For me, my homesickness really kicked in during October of my freshman year and I ended up calling my mom and crying because I was lonely and missed her. As much as it sucks, you will get through that feeling. Visit home when you can to help, though.

#7: Join clubs! I made most of my friends at college when I joined the creative writing and tabletop gaming clubs. It's the best way to find people with similar interests to you! Your college will likely have some kind of club fair or recruitment event, and clubs will often put up posters to catch interest, go and have a look around and at least try out a couple to see if it's a good fit.

#8: You don't have to be best friends with your roommate, but you should regularly communicate with them about things like your schedule (will you be getting back at 1 am? Warn them. Do you have an 8 am class you're going to need to set an alarm for? Warn them.), how neat you are or not neat, and any allergies you have. For me, I was lucky enough to end up being really great friends with my roommates so we openly talked a lot and knew what the others needed. I actually ended up rooming with the same few people all four years in suite style housing because we liked each other. You may not be so lucky, but you still need to communicate about your shared living space.

#9: Make time to see people! There's a lot of freedom in a college schedule, and that can sometimes make it tempting to just kind of hang out and not do anything, especially if you're an introvert like me. But you will feel bad if you're not regularly getting some socialization in outside of classes. If you don't join any clubs, and even if you do, the best way is to get people's numbers and meet up with them for meals or studying or just to hang out.

Some misc advice:

#10: At least try to make some kind of schedule or routine for yourself. Like I said above, college has a lot of freedom you may not be used to and that can be overwhelming. Make a routine that you do every day to some degree to help with that.

#11: Energy drinks are not good for you and energy drink cans are not decor. Do not replace sleep with energy drinks or coffee.

#12: Drinking is also not good for you. Party responsibly and in moderation. I didn't go to a party school, in fact I went to a dry campus, and none of my friends drank when we hung out so I can't speak on this a ton. But I do know people who went to parties regularly at other colleges, and a lot of them ended up going hard into partying, realizing it wasn't good for them, and finding moderation along the way. Try to keep it to weekends at the very least.

#13: Get all your shots since you're living in communal housing, both for your sake and everyone else's. If you feel sick, go to whatever health center they have on campus to make sure it's not something contagious.

Before anything else, a bit of context. After months away from Tumblr, battling the flu and drowning in college assignments, I finally found the time to return to Pleasantview and finish the first rotation of the Broke family. Unfortunately, I lost some of my screenshots along the way, but I managed to piece together what was left to tell the story of Brandi and her family's first steps toward a better life. I hope you enjoy it.

A Chance Worth Taking

Brandi Broke has never had an easy life. Even before Skip's mysterious death, she struggled to hold her family together. She dreamed of being a loving mother, yet often took out her own frustrations on her children, expecting from them a level of responsibility she could barely carry herself. After Skip died, the debts he left behind only made things worse. The bank eventually repossessed the old Newbie family home, forcing the Brokes to start over with nothing.

Years later, they find themselves living in a run-down housing project in Pleasantview. Money is always tight, arguments with Dustin have become a daily occurrence because of his behavior at school and the shady people he keeps bringing home, and Brandi discovers she's expecting her third child. What she doesn't know is that Dustin has turned to crime in secret, convinced it's the only way to help put food on the table.

After one particularly rough day, Dina calls to check on Brandi and encourages her to visit Pleasantview's newly opened Social Services office. A few days later, while Beau celebrates a modest birthday with his family, Brandi spends hours filling out paperwork before finally qualifying for SimNation's low-income assistance program, receiving §270 a day. The extra income finally puts food on the table, but it's nowhere near enough to pull the family out of poverty.

As the months pass, Brandi's pregnancy becomes harder to hide, and so do her worries. Despite the exhaustion, she continues taking care of the house entirely on her own. During the quiet hours of the night, when everyone else is asleep, she finds comfort watching cooking shows on TV. It is during one of those long nights that Beatrice is born, the first of Brandi's children who will never know her father.

Beatrice's arrival only strengthens Brandi's determination to change their future. Between sleepless nights with the baby and endless household chores, she begins teaching herself to cook again. Before meeting Skip, she had worked at a small diner, and those old skills suddenly seem like the only opportunity she has left. Then, one morning, she spots an advertisement in the newspaper for Pleasantview's Best Chef Competition. For Brandi, it isn't just a chance to win prize money. It might be the opportunity to build a real career.

Weeks go by filled with practice, scribbled recipes and failed attempts before she finally masters the one dish that had always intimidated her: lobster.

Competition day arrives, and Brandi leaves home early, asking Dustin to look after his younger siblings while she's gone. The pressure only grows when she realizes she'll be competing against Shirley Johnson, the reigning champion and head chef of one of Sim City's most prestigious restaurants. Surrounded by seasoned professionals, Brandi can hardly believe she belongs there. But when the judges taste her dish, the impossible happens. She wins first place, takes home §500, a medal, and, for the first time in years, a genuine sense of hope.

The surprises aren't over yet. After the ceremony, Shirley approaches her. Instead of the arrogant rival Brandi expected, she finds someone who genuinely admires her talent. Shirley offers her a trial shift in her restaurant, and by the end of the day Brandi has been hired as a sous-chef.

The news changes the atmosphere at home almost overnight. For the first time in a long while, Dustin begins to believe there's another way forward. Little by little, he distances himself from the criminal life, determined to save enough money to open his own auto repair shop instead of continuing down a path he knows can only end badly.

Over the following months, Brandi's hard work finally begins to pay off. She earns a promotion to Head Chef, the family's savings steadily grow, and life slowly becomes more stable. With Beatrice growing up and the future looking brighter than ever, returning to the old Newbie family home no longer feels like an impossible dream.

For the first time since Skip's death, the Brokes aren't just surviving anymore.

Modern au! Ch.1

Prof! Gojo Satoru x college! Reader

Tags:Prof x students relations,smut, advantage to use,cheating,suspicion, public act of sex,plot with lots of sex, shyness, forbidden

Word count:6.1k

A/N:hii I've been gone for weeks..and that's because I'm making a series!! And it's this—i already have 10 chapters in my drafts..Soo don't worry I'll post them almost immediately!! I hope you enjoy reading!!

The glass doors of the university’s main hall slid open with a soft whoosh, and I stepped inside, my worn leather backpack feeling both light as air and heavy with possibility. I’d spent three years working twice as hard as everyone else—part-time shifts at a local bookstore, late nights poring over textbooks by lamplight, and countless practice essays to earn this full-ride scholarship. Every hurdle had led to this moment: standing in the heart of my dream school, where the walls were lined with portraits of distinguished alumni and the air smelled of old paper, fresh coffee, and the faint, clean scent of polished wood.

My hands trembled slightly as I clutched my acceptance letter and class schedule to my chest, the paper warm from being pressed against my shirt. The main hall was bustling with activity—upperclassmen helping new students find their way, groups of friends reuniting after summer break, and parents snapping photos while their kids pretended not to be embarrassed. I’d come alone; my family had wanted to drive me up, but I’d insisted on making the trip myself, wanting this moment to feel entirely my own.

I made my way to the student services desk, my dress shoes clicking against the marble floor. The woman behind the counter—her name tag read Ms. Dela Cruz—smiled warmly as I approached, noticing the way I kept glancing at the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“First day?” she asked, already pulling out a folder with my name on it.

“Yes, ma’am.” My voice came out quieter than I’d intended, and I cleared my throat before continuing. “I’m here to pick up my student ID and locker assignment.”

“Wonderful! Let me get those for you right away.” She slid a plastic card across the counter—my photo showed me looking tired but proud, taken the day I’d submitted my final application—and a small slip of paper with a combination printed on it. “Your locker is in the Arts and Sciences building, third floor, number 317. It’s a good spot—close to most of the lecture halls and not too far from the water fountains.”

She paused, her eyes softening as she looked at me. “You’re one of our merit scholars, aren’t you? We’re so glad to have you here. Your essay on ethical philosophy was remarkable—one of the best I’ve read in years.”

Heat rose to my cheeks at the praise. I’d spent weeks writing and rewriting that essay, drawing from my experiences working with underserved communities at the bookstore’s free literacy program. “Thank you, ma’am. That means a lot.”

“Your student council tour guide should be here any minute—she’s the head of council, so she’ll show you everything you need to know. She’s a force of nature, but she’ll take good care of you.”

As if on cue, a girl with bright pink hair tied back in a high ponytail appeared at my side, carrying a bright blue clipboard and wearing a navy blazer with the student council emblem stitched in gold on the pocket. She moved with purpose, her platform sneakers thudding against the floor as she came to a stop beside me.

“You must be the new scholarship student! I’m Kugisaki Nobara—nice to meet you!” She grabbed my free hand and shook it firmly, her grip surprisingly strong. “I don’t do boring tours where we just walk around looking at buildings—we’re gonna hit all the good spots first, and I’ll make sure you know everything you actually need to survive your first semester here.”

She didn’t wait for a response before turning on her heel and setting off, walking at a brisk pace that forced me to keep up. We passed through a set of double doors into a courtyard where ancient mango trees provided dappled shade over stone benches and winding pathways. Students were already gathering in small groups—some playing guitar near a fountain, others spread out with laptops and textbooks, and a few tossing a frisbee across the grass.

“This is the main courtyard—everyone hangs out here between classes,” Nobara explained, pointing to various spots as we walked. “That bench over there is the best place to study when the weather’s nice—you get a breeze from the fountain but not too much noise. The little café by the north entrance makes the best iced coffee on campus, and they give student discounts. Pro tip: get there before 9 AM on weekdays or you’ll be waiting in line for twenty minutes minimum.”

We wove through hallways lined with colorful bulletin boards advertising club meetings, volunteer opportunities, and upcoming campus events. Posters for philosophy debates, art exhibitions, and business case competitions covered every available inch of wall space, and I found myself slowing down to read them before Nobara gently tugged on my arm.

“Trust me, you’ll have plenty of time to join clubs later,” she said with a knowing smile. “First things first—we need to get you settled into your locker so you’re not carrying that heavy backpack around all day.”

The Arts and Sciences building was even more impressive from the inside—high ceilings with exposed beams, tall windows that let in streams of natural light, and walls lined with shelves of books that seemed to stretch on forever. We took the elevator to the third floor, and Nobara led me down a quiet hallway lined with metal lockers painted in shades of blue and gray.

“Here we go—317,” she said, stopping in front of a locker near the end of the hall. “The combination is easy once you get the hang of it. Let me show you how to work it.”

She demonstrated quickly, turning the dial left, right, then left again until the lock clicked open. I took a deep breath and tried myself, fumbling slightly with the dial before it finally released. Inside, the locker was clean and spacious, with a small shelf at the top and hooks on the back for hanging jackets or bags.

I unloaded my backpack carefully—setting my hardcover textbooks on the shelf, hanging my rain jacket on one of the hooks, and tucking my laptop bag into the bottom compartment where it would be safe. I’d packed extra notebooks, pens, and a small stack of index cards I used for studying—old habits from high school that I didn’t plan to give up anytime soon.

“Nice organization skills,” Nobara commented, leaning against the locker next to mine. “I keep mine so messy I can never find anything when I need it. Megumi’s the same way as you though—everything has its place.”

As if mentioning his name had summoned him, we heard footsteps approaching down the hall. A boy with dark, spiky hair and wearing a black hoodie over a white t-shirt rounded the corner, carrying a worn canvas backpack and scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he saw us, his expression neutral but not unfriendly.

“Nobara. You’re supposed to be done with tours ten minutes ago,” he said, though there was no bite to his words.

“I’m showing our new scholar around properly—quality over speed,” she shot back, then gestured to me. “Megumi, this is the new student I was telling you about. She’s in some of your classes.”

Megumi nodded in greeting, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Fushiguro Megumi. Nice to meet you. I’m in Advanced Calculus and Intro to World History this semester—you in either of those?”

“Both, actually,” I replied, closing my locker and turning the dial to lock it. “I saw your name on the class roster for Calculus when I picked up my schedule.”

“Good. Nanami teaches that class—he’s strict, but fair. He expects everyone to come prepared and do their work, but he’ll help you if you ask. Just don’t try to make excuses or turn things in late—he doesn’t tolerate that.”

As if on cue, another voice called out from down the hall. “Megumi! Nobara! I thought I’d find you guys here!”

A boy with bright pink hair came running toward us, his face flushed from exertion and a wide grin spread across his face. He skidded to a stop in front of us, nearly tripping over his own feet before catching himself.

“Itadori Yuji!” he said, extending his hand for a high-five. “I’m so glad I caught you guys—I just found out they’re serving lumpia at the cafeteria today, and you know how fast that stuff goes!”

I returned his high-five with a small smile, feeling more at ease than I had all morning. “Nice to meet you, Yuji. Nobara said we’ll be in some classes together.”

“Yep! Intro to Psychology and Advanced Calculus!” he said, bouncing on his toes with excitement. “I’m not great at math, but Megumi said he’ll help me study, and I figure between the three of us, we can handle anything Nanami throws at us.”

“Just don’t count on me to do your homework for you,” Megumi said, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly—a hint of a smile.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Yuji laughed, then turned his attention back to me. “Are you taking any other interesting classes? I’m also in Introduction to Philosophy—heard the professor is pretty cool, but everyone keeps talking about how handsome he is. I mean, how good-looking can a philosophy professor really be, right?”

Nobara rolled her eyes playfully. “Trust me, Yuji—Professor Gojo is exactly as good-looking as everyone says he is. Maybe even more so. But don’t let that distract you—he’s also one of the smartest people on campus. Tenured at twenty-eight? That’s unheard of around here.”

She checked her watch and let out a small gasp. “Oh no—your first class is Philosophy in fifteen minutes, and it’s in Lecture Hall 301, which is all the way at the other end of the building. Come on—I’ll walk you there.”

We hurried down the hallway and through a set of double doors into a large lecture hall that already had dozens of students filing in. The room was tiered, with rows of desks facing a raised platform where a whiteboard stretched across nearly the entire wall. A projector was mounted to the ceiling, and stacks of syllabi sat on a long table at the front of the room.

“I’ll save you a seat near the front if you want,” Yuji offered as we reached the entrance. “I usually sit there so I can actually see what’s going on.”

“That would be great, thank you,” I said, feeling a flutter of nervousness in my stomach.

“Good luck!” Nobara said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll find you after class and we can grab lunch together—my treat, to welcome you to the university. And if you need anything at all—anything—just text me.” She pulled out her phone and typed quickly, then held it out to me. “I already put my number in your contacts.”

I thanked her again as she headed toward the exit, Megumi and Yuji following behind her for a moment before Yuji peeled off to find seats. I stood just inside the doorway for a moment, taking in the room—students chatting excitedly, some already pulling out laptops and notebooks, others scrolling through their phones or flipping through the course textbook.

I’d read the syllabus online already—Introduction to Philosophy: Ethics and Morality in Modern Society. It was one of the classes I’d been most excited about, having been fascinated by philosophical questions since I was a kid, wondering about right and wrong, justice and fairness, and what it meant to live a good life.

As I made my way down the aisle toward the seats Yuji had saved, I heard whispers spreading through the room—“He’s here,” “Look at him,” “I can’t believe he’s actually our professor.” I rolled my eyes slightly, assuming it was just more talk about how handsome he was. Sure, professors could be attractive, but people tended to exaggerate these things, especially at the start of the semester when everything felt new and exciting.

I slid into the seat next to Yuji, setting my notebook and pen on the desk. “Everyone’s acting like a celebrity just walked in,” I whispered.

Yuji grinned, leaning over slightly. “Wait until you see him. I thought everyone was exaggerating too, but… wow.”

I was about to ask what he meant when the room suddenly went quiet. I looked toward the front of the hall and felt my breath catch in my throat.

A man with striking white hair that fell perfectly over his forehead stood at the front of the room, sliding a pair of black sunglasses up onto his head to reveal bright blue eyes that seemed to sparkle under the fluorescent lights. He was tall—easily six feet or more—with broad shoulders and long legs that were perfectly accentuated by his dark slacks and crisp white dress shirt, which was rolled up to just below his elbows, revealing toned forearms.

But it wasn’t just his looks that made the room fall silent—it was his presence. He moved with an effortless grace as he walked to the center of the platform, setting down a leather messenger bag and tapping the microphone to make sure it was working. When he smiled—a slow, easy curve of his lips that showed off perfectly straight white teeth—several students in the front row actually sighed aloud.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said, his voice clear and warm, carrying easily to every corner of the room without needing the microphone. “Welcome to Introduction to Philosophy. I’m Gojo Satoru, and I have a feeling this is going to be one of the most interesting semesters of your academic careers.”

I sat frozen in my seat, my pen hovering over my notebook. Yuji was right—everyone hadn’t been exaggerating at all. Professor Gojo was easily one of the most attractive people I’d ever seen in my life, with features that seemed almost too perfect to be real. But as he began to speak, I pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on what he was saying.

“Now, I know what most of you are thinking,” he continued, his blue eyes scanning the room and pausing briefly on me before moving on. “‘Philosophy? That’s just a bunch of old guys arguing about things that don’t matter in real life.’ Or maybe you’re thinking, ‘I’m only here because it’s a required core class, and I just need to get through it with a passing grade.’”

He leaned against the edge of the table, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, I’m here to tell you that both of those ideas are completely wrong. Philosophy isn’t just about abstract debates—it’s about how we live our lives every single day. It’s about the choices we make, the values we hold, and how we treat the people around us. Every time you decide what’s right or wrong, every time you stand up for something you believe in, every time you question why things are the way they are—you’re doing philosophy.”

As he spoke, I found myself leaning forward in my seat, hanging on every word. He didn’t just recite facts or read from a textbook—he wove together stories, examples from current events, and personal anecdotes that made complex ideas feel accessible and relevant. He talked about ancient Greek philosophers like Aristotle and Plato, but he also discussed modern thinkers, ethical dilemmas in technology and business, and how philosophical principles applied to everything from social media use to climate change policy.

When he asked questions to the class, his eyes would scan the room, and I found myself raising my hand more than once—something I rarely did in large lecture halls. Each time, he’d call on me, his expression thoughtful as he listened to my answers, asking follow-up questions that made me think more deeply about what I’d said.

“Excellent point,” he said after I’d shared my thoughts on utilitarianism versus deontology. “You’re looking at both sides of the argument and considering how they might apply in different situations—that’s exactly the kind of critical thinking I want to see in this class.”

Heat rose to my cheeks at the praise, but I pushed down the flutter of something warm in my chest, focusing instead on taking detailed notes. Around me, I could see other students struggling to keep up—some were busy taking photos of him with their phones, others were whispering to their friends, and a few had already given up on paying attention entirely.

But I was completely absorbed. I’d always loved learning, always found joy in understanding complex concepts and seeing how different ideas connected to each other, but Professor Gojo’s teaching style made it feel like we were exploring these ideas together, not just listening to him lecture. He moved around the platform as he spoke, using hand gestures to emphasize his points, and every so often he’d make eye contact with different students, making each person feel like they were the only one in the room.

“Now, for your first assignment,” he said, pulling up a slide on the projector with the course requirements. “I want you to write a three-page paper on a moral dilemma you’ve faced in your own life—something that made you question what was right or wrong, something that challenged your values or forced you to make a difficult choice. I don’t want you to just tell me what happened—I want you to analyze it using the concepts we’ll be discussing in class over the next few weeks. Due date is two weeks from today, and you’ll find all the guidelines on the course website.”

He paused, his eyes scanning the room again, and this time they lingered on me for a few seconds longer than before. I felt my heart skip a beat, but his expression was just as thoughtful and professional as it had been all class.

“I know some of you are already stressing about writing a paper this early in the semester,” he said with a small smile. “But trust me—this assignment is designed to help you connect what we’re learning to your own life, and that’s when real understanding happens. If you need help—whether it’s with choosing a topic, understanding the concepts, or just organizing your thoughts—my office hours are Mondays and Wednesdays from 2 to 4 PM, or you can email me to set up an appointment. I’m here to help you succeed.”

As he dismissed the class, students began packing up their things and filing out of the lecture hall, chattering excitedly about everything from his looks to the assignment. Yuji turned to me, his eyes wide with amazement.

“Okay, I was wrong earlier,” he said, shoving his notebook into his backpack. “He’s not just handsome—he’s actually brilliant. I thought I was going to be bored out of my mind, but that was actually interesting!”

“I know what you mean,” I said, still looking toward the front of the room where Professor Gojo was packing up his things. He’d already removed his sunglasses again, but even with them on, I could tell he was looking at something on his desk—a stack of papers that I realized were the syllabi we’d picked up when we came in.

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The thing about libraries is that when you strip away the glamorous books and papers and such, it's not really a humanities subject at all and really comes down to a lot of data management 😂 the most obvious incarnation is bibliography (cataloging, basically), but a lot of librarianing at its core is Assign Categories to Things. The other half of it is Help People Find Stuff, which you obviously need those Categories to do. So there's a lot of customer service involved, at least in fields like public and academic librarianship, where the Patron--meaning anyone who uses the library--looms large.

When I started my degree, I thought I would focus on archives when I started, because I wanted to be with the Old Books and learn about preservation/provenance/historical relevance and all that kind of thing, but while I was in my program, I got really interested in academic librarianship, where the function is basically supporting college students and faculty with their research and running a college library. The classes are all pretty wide-ranging, but the best ones were those that prioritized practical learning and made us all go through common scenarios and suchlike.