#I wouldn't have gotten enough credits to graduate

[prismatica-the-strange]

.

#i have been trying so hard the last couple of months to be happy and supportive about my brother graduating #And I am happy for him i mean he did it. he got through high school! #but I've also been dreading it #cause all this talk about graduating and my mom saying she's 'new to this' is the biggest reminder that I didn't #that i got kicked out because of my anxiety disorder and even though i tried again remote over covid #I wouldn't have gotten enough credits to graduate #i put in over four years with pain. migraines. anxiety. shitty ableist teachers and doctors. and I even want BACK and it wasn't enough #between all that and see all my friends and peers exceeding at life when I have a hard time leaving the house on a good day #I'm just falling apart and trying so hard to look and act like I'm not for my brother #now my dad is. doing what my dad does and accusing me of trying to 'agitate' people? (i offered a single suggestion to a potential problem) #and now it's all culminated into a panic attack in my room and Idk if i can physically go to support my brother #Which means another thing I won't be in pictures for and i just don't know how much longer i can do this #vent post #prisma rambles in the tags #anxiety tw #panic attack tw

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my parents to pay my tuition for the semester, lying about how I lost my scholarship, and then planning on lying to my dad regarding his requirements in exchange for him paying the tuition?

My (20X) college has a scholarship for offspring of faculty members, and I was lucky enough to have my application accepted by the college that my dad (53M) works at. This means that I get a full ride scholarship; if I graduate within 4 years, I won't have to pay a single penny to my college (books and supplies not included, of course).

Unfortunately, the scholarship does have two requirements; I need to have taken at least a certain amount of credits semester before (not a ridiculous number), and for that semester, I need to have gotten over a 2.0/4.3 GPA. Easy enough, right? Who can't get a GPA over 2.0?

Well. I suffered a mental health downfall the past semester and I ended up failing half my classes. I was unable to sit my finals. I know this wasn't smart of me, and I think I should've done something about my academic situation other than just wait for the semester to be over, but I had quit a semester due to my mental health decline previously and I didn't want a repeat of that. In any case, I got a GPA of about 1.6. I'm not on probation but I did receive a warning.

Fortunately, this doesn't mean I lost my scholarship for good. I just need to fulfill those requirements in the upcoming semester and I get it back.

I realized I did need to pay my tuition this semester two days before tuition fee acceptance closes and I debated telling only one of my parents. My mom wants me to finish college no matter what, and my dad has told me that he does not care anymore as long as I don't stress him out. He's also told me he no longer has any expectations for me whatsoever. I did also consider talking about it with my brother and borrowing money from him to put together the tuition fee.

I figured I'd bite the bullet and just told my dad, who I know has been stressed about my future and how badly I'm doing in college. I just casually dropped it as I was making breakfast for myself and then we had a lengthy conversation that my mother (51F) joined when she got back home.

I don't remember much of the conversation (I may have memory problems) but the AITA mentioned part is that I lied to my parents and told them I did sit all my finals and try my best. I didn't. I tried that for mid term exams but I had nothing to write, so for finals I didn't sit them at all. This happened with three of the classes I was taking. I just didn't take my finals. My dad was suspicious of my claim; he said that as a professor himself he wouldn't fail students who at least submitted homework and sat their exams to write anything at all, but I maintained that I tried.

The conclusion was that my dad would be willing to pay my tuition if I got my shit together and also deleted my social media, which he thinks is a drain on my time and energy. He's not wrong. I deleted my Twitter accounts immediately afterwards (which my parents don't know about) because I've been thinking about it, but I can't really bring myself to get rid of Discord, where so many of my friends are. People I've met while studying internationally, long-term friends who moved to other countries; Discord is the only way to contact these people.

This is the AITA part; if my dad follows up on that particular requirement to check if I deleted Discord, which he particularly dislikes (he has previously confiscated the electronics I bought with my own money that I earned, after he saw me on muted call at night with some friends), I plan on deleting the app/program on my devices but using it anyway as a website. This would be a betrayal of my dad's trust in me, but there's no love lost between us anyway. He's already told me he doesn't love me unconditionally. (Yes, I'm his biological child and he did raise me.)

I also feel like an asshole because I could've settled this with the help of my brother; I'd pick up a job during the winter break to pay him back, but it would have been done eventually. Or I could've just gone to my mom. She works her own job, and we could've figured it out together without telling my dad. I told my dad anyway, wanting him to pay the tuition, even though I knew that talking about having to spend money on his kids stresses him out deeply.

My mom also told my dad to go to therapy (in detail, so I know it wasn't just something she said as a throwaway thing) during the conversation. It did get heated. I don't disagree, but I don't know if that'd be okay; mental health is stigmatized where I am, and my dad as a grown adult man and a respected professor if seen going to therapy could have his reputation kind of effected. It wouldn't have happened if I just brought up this whole situation quietly up to my mom, or just my brother.

So I lost my scholarship, I lied to my parents about the technicalities of how that happened, and I'm asking for some amount of money from my parents but also planning on lying to them in regards to the terms they set out. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[tvrres]

Okay, I had one for Angel, maybe an angel x fem!reader where the reader is almost sucked up into the ufo and our poor bby is worried? Just some fluff and stuff <3

and please don’t feel the need to rush take your time! Love ya 💕

— BAD MIRACLE

✦ pairing: angel torres x fem!reader

✦ summary: it's dumb luck you ended up at the haywood's ranch. it's even dumber luck that you didn't die there.

✦ note: yeah i listened to jennifer saunders' cover of holding out for a hero while writing this and yeah i made it deeper than it needed to be. it's a little sad i'm ngl

You weren't even supposed to be here.

This was all because of your stupid phone charger. If it hadn't disappeared from plain sight, your phone wouldn't have died before your alarm went off the next morning. You would have been to work on time and your boss wouldn't have let you go. Running into Angel, an old friend from high school, would have ended with plans for a coffee date that would never come. Instead you asked him if he knew any places hiring.

At first, you were glad things ended the way they did. You liked working with Angel. He had gotten taller since graduation and built some muscle that suited him well, but inside?

Inside, he never changed.

He would often visit the furniture department of Fry's to ask if you needed help, even though he was far from well versed when it came to Tempur-Pedic beds. You would laugh and tell him you were fine, to get back to electronics before he got in trouble again. So what if you guys were friendly? So what if maybe it was a little more than that?

After a two months of this, he invited you over to his apartment to watch some psychological thriller on Amazon Prime of all things. It was a fine movie, but you were too busy thinking about how your knees were touching. Neither of you moved them. When the end credits rolled and your can of Sprite was empty, Angel slid his hand into yours.

"I promise next time I'll take you on a real date," He muttered. You felt a smile creep onto your face before nodding. "But I think you're really great, (y/n). I want to spend more time with you if that's cool."

"That's cool." He looked relieved when you said this even though you couldn't imagine saying anything else. Afterwards, you guys talked and you're pretty sure he convinced you that ghosts were real that night. He seemed pretty certain there was one in the laundry room downstairs. Then he walked you to your car and hugged you goodbye.

There was a tension as you pulled away and you thought maybe he might kiss you. But he didn't, and that was okay. You guys had plenty of time.

It was only a few days after this that the Haywoods entered your store. Angel texted you, saying he was heading out to do an install and that he'd be back later. You sent him a thumbs up emoji before returning to work. Later finally came and Angel strolled up to where you stood by the display couches.

"How was the install?" You asked in a cheery tone, mostly just happy to see him. He looked around, pretending to be casual.

"Fuckin' weird," You furrowed your brows.

"Weird how?"

"Like extraterrestrial weird."

You let out a small laugh. Angel wasn't exactly a conspiracy nut, but he did let himself get lost in the idea of it sometimes. "What are you-"

"Look, just meet me at electronics after you clock out," He whispered as if someone was listening. "It could be nothing, but it could not be nothing." You gave him a suspicious look.

It was most certainly not nothing.

The unmoving cloud was enough to convince you, but nothing struck pure fear into your heart quite like feeling Angel's van stall on your way off the Haywoods' property. "Shit." Was all he'd said.

"Shit?" You looked at him frantically. "Shit, what do you mean shit?" Angel didn't answer you, instead quickly undoing both of your seatbelts. Your heart sank at this as you realized what his plan was. "I am not going out there and neither are you!"

"(Y/n), these are fucking aliens and they will crack this fucking van open like a goddamn piñata if they want to!" He grabbed your hand roughly and looked into your eyes, causing a sudden calm to wash over you. "Just don't let go of me and we're gonna be fine." You barely had time to process his order before he threw open the driver's side door and pulled you out behind him.

You narrowly escaped death once, which was more than enough for the both of you. OJ Haywood was not satisfied with this, however.

So now here you were, reloading film into a bulky camera being operated by some gruff and acclaimed filmmaker you had never even heard of. You sat nervously behind Angel the rest of the time, running your thumb over the label on your walkie that read BATTLESHIP. Despite everything you'd been through, everything you'd seen, the cloud, the power, that. . . thing (Jean Jacket as the Haywoods called it,) none of it felt real.

The only thing keeping you grounded was the constant string of voices coming through your walkie. It was truly a sight, watching OJ on his horse trying to win an impossible race. Jean Jacket loomed over him and you wondered how something so large could seem so weightless.

As the man released a colorful parachute at the last second, the entity turned on a dime to avoid it, giving Holst and his camera a perfect shot of it. It quickly retreated high into the sky, making you breath a sigh of relief as Angel cheered. A weight lifted off your shoulders, seemingly drifting away just as Jean Jacket had.

"It's over!" Emerald's voice crackled through your walkie. "We got it, y'all! The feed started going in and out when, when that guy got got, but we should be covered with the film camera. Right, Holst?"

The man was silent. You took this as his being in awe, disbelief at what he had just captured. His walkie beeped before he spoke into it. "The light," He gazed at the sun that hung low in the sky. "The light, it's, gonna be magic soon." You didn't know what he could have meant by that, but there was sudden foreboding energy in the air.

OJ felt it too, asking over the walkie what he meant. The man didn't answer, having already grabbed his other camera and standing from where he was. You tapped Angel, who was still staring in the direction Jean Jacket had disappeared. He turned to see Holst leaving the safety of the tent.

"Wha- no, no, where're you going?" His voice was frantic. The man turned back to the both of you.

"Angel, (y/n)," he said somberly. "It's gonna be alright. We don't deserve the impossible." Your blood went cold as he stepped fully out into the open.

"Hey guys?" Angel spoke into the walkie. "Holst just said some creepy, cryptic shit, took his camera, and he's heading up the mountain. Over."

You cupped your hands around your mouth and hollered at the older man. "Dude, what the hell?!" The same pit of fear from before welled up in your stomach. "Holst, come back!" Behind you, Angel got up from his seat and moved to where Holst had been before.

"Fuck it." He muttered, looking through the viewfinder of the camera. "He's crazy, right?" You searched for Jean Jacket in the sky frantically, still yelling for Holst. The being seemed to notice him quickly, flying down from the clouds at an incredible speed. It came close to the tent, causing you to quickly pull Angel down onto the ground with you. You both watched helplessly as it descended upon Holst and pulled him up into the air in a cloud of dust.

Then, just like that, he was gone. Your eyes were wide as saucers as you stared at where he had been, fighting every instinct you had to look up. You began to search for your walkie on the ground in a panic, knowing OJ and Emerald had seen it, hoping they knew what to do next.

In your distressed state, you didn't notice Angel stand and walk towards the edge of the tent. Once you did, a scream caught in your throat. He backed up, staring at Jean Jacket in disbelief. It slowly started closing in on him.

"Angel!" You cried out, getting ready to run out to him. Before you could, the tarp that covered you flew and wrapped around Angel and sent him rolling down the mountain into a barbed wire fence. You were about to slide down after him, until you heard Holst's screams echoing right above you.

It was nearly on top of you, so close the metallic scent of blood filled your nose. So you crouched back down and stared at the dirt shifting in the wind, hand over your mouth as you whimpered in fear, not daring to breath. That stupid fucking charger.

You were sure the only thing that saved you was Jean Jacket noticing Emerald by the stables. The wind of it rushing towards her knocked you over, your hair whipping wildly in the air. Once it was gone, you quickly made your way to Angel.

He was tangled up in the barbed wire and tarp, cuts from it littered his skin. "Angel!" You turned him over and tried to feel for the end of the wire. Your fingers bled, but you ignored it the best you could. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you scared the fuck out of me, oh my-"

"(Y/n), get to the house," He was breathing hard and trying to push your hands away from him. "You can make it, go!"

"No!" Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you fought against him. "No, I'm not gonna leave you here! We have to stay together and we'll be fine, that's what you told me!" The sound of Jean Jacket destroying the stables and Emerald's screams only made you panic more.

"Now I'm telling you to go!" He turned to where the animal clicked loudly. "Go! Before it comes back!" You looked over your shoulder at the house before turning back to Angel.

"You better not fucking die!" Was all you said before turning to sprint towards shelter. You nearly tripped more times than you could count. In your peripheral vision, you could see Jean Jacket move behind the mountains behind you before losing sight of it. You prayed to whatever higher power could hear you that Angel would be okay. That they all would.

"HURRY (Y/N)!" Angel called from behind you. "IT'S COMING!" Your stomach sank as he shouted and you tried to move faster, but the house was still out of reach. Suddenly, you felt as if gravity was no longer working and the dust around you swirled.

Angel watched with horror filled eyes as you were lifted off the ground, felt his heart pound in his ears when he heard your screams. He tried to free himself quickly, knowing there was nothing he could do for you, but refusing to accept that.

You reached for anything you could and by some kind of divine intervention, your sweater sleeve became tangled in the branches of a nearby tree. Jean Jacket still pulled on you with an unbearable force, the wind roared around you so hard you thought you'd go deaf. You fought against the pressure as best you could, forcing your other arm down to grab the tree branch. Clenching both fists around it, you hung in midair. The branch threatened to slip out of your hands and you could feel blood being drawn by its rough surface.

Then, just as quickly as it disappeared, your weight returned to you and you hit the ground with a thud. Not before falling through the branches of the tree, cutting your skin and clothes on the way down. You kept your eyes down for what felt like eternity. The air was silent aside from the steady breeze that had been there before, but you didn't trust it.

Angel stared at your limp body from afar, assuming the worst. He could feel a lump forming in the back of his throat, not even noticing the figure Jean Jacket had started to transform into. He watched as Emerald marched towards where OJ was hiding out and waited until Jean Jacket was distracted with her. Once it was, he finished untangling himself and ran to you. The wind burned his eyes and he wasn't sure if it was sweat or tears that streamed down his face.

Your breathing was still frantic as you looked in the direction of the arena, where Jean Jacket was unfurling itself into some cosmic horror more terrifying than before. You didn't have the energy to be afraid, however. Right as you were going to lay your head on the dirt once more, you heard footsteps rushing towards you. With a cough, you tried to support yourself on weak arms to see where they were coming from.

Angel fell to the ground next to you and pulled you into a suffocating embrace. "I fucking thought you were dead, (y/n)!" You don't remember when you started crying, but at some point you were shedding silent tears into his shoulder while you felt his shaky breath on yours. "I thought you were dead!" You let out a through a sob. You were bleeding all over each other and the only thing you wanted was to be right back on that sofa in his stupid apartment. Before you knew any of this existed.

You both pulled away from each other to examine your injuries. He looked over the bleeding cuts on your palms and you looked over the ones on his arms. You were in the middle of scanning over his dust covered face when he pulled you into him again, this time planting his lips on yours feverishly.

It was a desperate kiss, one he was afraid wouldn't last. You kissed him back just as wildly, trying not to let him know you were crying again in fear he would stop. Finally you pulled away, face shining with tears. The sun had started to sink in the sky.

There was a muffled boom in the distance and you both turned to the direction it came from. A cloud of smoke floated in the air, what remained of Jean Jacket slowly emerging from it. Angel stood on weak knees and helped you up as you did the same.

The drive to his apartment was a quiet one, your hands were still shaking as you tried to unlock your car.

"You don't have to go home, (y/n)." Angel said from where he stood behind you. You smiled in spite of yourself.

"You've done enough for me these past few days," You turned to him with a sad smile. "You need to rest, it's okay."

He stared into your eyes with an empty gaze. It hurt to see him looking so hollow. "I don't," He cleared his throat. "I don't want you to go home." Silently, you pulled him into another hug. It mirrored the one he'd given you the very first time. "Okay," you said. "I just need to get a few things."

When you walked into your bedroom to retrieve some clothes, you saw your old phone charger. Right where you had left it.

Feel free to send in more requests y'all otherwise it's just going to be more of my self indulgent bs

Also, and this goes for any request, if you the sender are not satisfied with your written response, please reach out to me and I will redo it to your liking!

#angel torres #angel torres x reader #nope 2022 #nope jordan peele #angel was a geek in high school and i'll die on that hill #also is this slightly ooc #maybe

[jmtorres]

oh man i'm gonna have to unfollow dimension 20 shit

fantasy high: junior year the actual episodes are giving me some academic trauma flashbacks but like I know that's happening and I've braced

people in the d20 and fantasy high tags asking if xyz is really how high school works in america is going to completely murder my brain

my personal history:

gifted kid

undiagnosed adhd

perfect PSAT

too many AP classes

got into state schools but not the schools i wanted

should have petitioned to graduate early (i had all the credits except gym) and instead barely went to class senior year due to aforementioned undiagnosed ADHD. (i could have had a gap year! i mean I wanted a gap year even after senior year but my parents thought i was too immature to au pair in France or whatever. maybe? but if they'd let me, then it wouldn't have been my academic future i was shooting in the foot)

failed most of my classes senior year of high school i think?

went off to college with none of that addressed on the strength of that fucking PSAT score

completely bombed out of my freshman year of college

diagnosed with (but not actually treated for) depression

proceeded to bomb out of several more semesters at multiple institutions

took a decade and a half to get a bachelor's degree

had to ask my college to overlook my GPA and let me graduate despite the many classes i'd failed due to adhd and depression

AFTER i got the goddamn degree, sought mental health treatment

it's been over two decades since high school and a decade since college and I STILL have nightmares about being sent back to high school because i fucked everything up

"is high school/junior year/applying for colleges/etc really that stressful in america" YES IT FUCKING IS, EVEN (maybe especially?) IF YOU'RE REALLY FUCKING SMART. ADULTS EXPECT SO FUCKING MUCH OF YOU BUT DON'T THINK YOU'RE RESPONSIBLE ENOUGH TO MAKE DECISIONS FOR YOURSELF

(nothing I have heard in intervening years suggests it's gotten any easier for today's teenagers. I'm so sorry.)

#academic trauma #mental health #neurodivergent #turned off reblogs because this is personal #all caps rant

[mj-iza-writer]

Sp Special Containment part 10

If you are new to this story line or just need an update on the story, please use the hashtag SP Special Containment. -MJ

The Director sat at his desk and looked through the reports, he smiled as he saw Jaimie didn't do anything during her outing.

A knock came at the door.

"Come in."

The guard who released Jaimie came in awkwardly.

"Can I just say I am so sorry", the guard looked down.

"Oh your sorry, come sit down", the Director sighed, "you do realize sorry wouldn't have cut it if I had to contact some families today, and tell them their family member was severely injured or killed. I would not have been able to tell them how or why because this job is classified. I would not have been able to give them any closure on their family members death or injury."

The guard looked down.

"Twenty kills", the Director sighed.

"I'm sorry", the guard looked up.

"Jaimie has killed at least twenty people, just to give you an idea of what we are protecting the world from. Whumpee has killed eighteen at least", the Director flipped a page, "Aramais has killed fifty people. I have no records on Mitch, but I'm sure it's high."

The guard gulped.

"She could have slit your throat, and went off on killing spree. None of us would have known anything until it was happening. Thankfully she is typically friendly and nothing happened", the Director continued, "she could have also wandered into something dangerous and gotten injured or killed herself. She could have even gotten outside. I'm sure she had been out for long enough before the shutdown happened."

The guard frowned, "I don't know what else I can say besides I'm sorry. I feel bad and didn't take my job seriously. I'm sorry."

"You are being removed from the sight, I can't chance this happening again. Your memory will be wiped, and you will be transferred to holding until you are cleared to leave", the Director sighed, "in other words, you are fired."

The guard looked down sadly, "yes sir, I understand."

After a few guards took them away the Director went through the votes for the unit.

"Mostly yes, with a few no, there are three undecided", the Director looked at the names, "Caretaker, Andy, and Mcgee."

"Those three will be my decision makers then", the Director sighed, "then meeting with Aramais, Jaimie, and Whumpee. Lastly, will be Mitch."

Cass sat in the bed in Mitch's room doing homework and talking to Mitch, the guard sat by the door.

"What are you doing over there?", Mitch tried to look.

"I'm doing homework", Cass looked up, "I have a few college credits to make up before I graduate, then I can also move up to being a researcher here, I just need the diploma", Cass smiled.

"Oh", Mitch sighed, "I didn't get past tenth grade, things happened within my family. I wasn't any good with school anyways. Learning disabilities and impatient teachers made me hate school."

"I'm sorry", Cass set aside the work and got up so Mitch could see them better.

"Then my trainers said schooling wasn't necessary, so I didn't have to worry about it", Mitch continued, "I do wish I could at least read better, reading always seems to calm me down."

"I like reading, I have a book right here. Do you want me to read to you?", Cass went to their backpack, and pulled out a book.

"If you want, it will help pass the time", Mitch sighed, "I don't want to disturb your work though."

"You're not, I can take break", Cass sat on the floor in front of Mitch.

"Hey Cass", a guard came over the speaker, "it looks like Caretaker, Andy, and Mcgee have gone up to the Director's office for the meeting, did you miss a text?"

"Not that I'm aware of", Cass looked at his phone, then got up and looked at Mitch.

"If you need to go that's fine, you can read to me later. If you want to at least", Mitch chuckled, "can you mention that I am extremely uncomfortable and about to snap though."

Cass nodded, "I'll be back, and I'll bring it up to the Director. I know you've been sitting like this for a while."

Later another knock interrupted the Director.

"Come in", the Director looked up.

"Ah, Caretaker, Mcgee, and Andy. I didn't ask you to come up yet", the Director sighed, "I'm still working on a few plans.

Andy sighed, "Aramais knew something was up, I told him we were not keeping secrets, but I myself am not allowed to talk about it. I let him know they would be next to find out after you met with us", Andy frowned, "he said he wanted water, then told me to get the meeting over with so he didn't have to wait."

"He is always so impatient", the Director sighed.

"Jaimie is napping, tired from her adventures today, so I thought it would be okay to come up. I wasn't expecting these two to be up here though", Mcgee smiled.

"Whumpee was playing eyespy with the guards so I had some free time", Caretaker nodded at Mcgee, "did she enjoy her chips?"

"Yes, though she fell asleep with her hand partially in one of the bags", Mcgee grinned.

"Okay, well, let's call Cass up here then. We'll get started", the Director went to grab their phone.

"Can I just ask before Cass comes up here. Do you truly believe they're ready for this? They are still in school, this is a full-time job, I just don't know how this is going to work", Andy frowned.

"I believe Cass knows what they can manage, if they say its manageable, then we will work with them to make sure it is", the Director looked at Andy, then the other two, "I believe Cass has a good chance. Plus, from the interactions I've seen and what the guards have seen, I believe Mitch might like Cass a little."

"Yeah, until he gets loose, and attacks Cass. Or, he gets inside of Cass's head and does something", Andy frowned.

"There will be a guard always present in the room, at least until we can fully trust Mitch, and we are preparing a holding room specifically for Mitch", the Director grabbed the phone.

Only a minute after sending the message, Cass entered the room and frowned at the group.

"I was outside listening, I'm glad to know you have faith in my abilities with Mitch", Cass came in farther.

Mcgee and Andy looked at each other, Caretaker grinned at the Director.

"I may be a junior researcher and I'm still in school, but maybe because I am so young I'm just stupid enough to make this work", Cass grinned, "I will probably need help with how my schedule looks right now, but I want to try. I like Mitch, and I don't want him to die because of me."

"Cass listen...", Andy started.

"No you listen, I am the top of my class, I am only a few credits away from graduating. I will be fully available in a few months", Cass argued.

Caretaker chuckled causing everyone to look at him.

"Why are you laughing at me, out of all of you I thought you would side with me", Cass made an angry look at Caretaker.

"Because I see a lot of me in you", Caretaker winked, "to be a junior researcher you learn to follow the book, when you transfer to being a researcher like these two numbskulls here", Caretaker pointed at Andy and McGee, "the books become your priority, anything out of the box is ignored. When you become a senior researcher like me, you take all of those books and burn them all. By then you know that those books don't equal real life experiences. If you are this ready to do this, and you believe this strongly you can do it and help Mitch, then I'm happy to help you in any way I can."

Cass sighed and smiled at Caretaker, "than-thankyou sir."

Caretaker looked at Andy and McGee, who both looked down.

Caretaker slapped the back of Andy's head.

"Okay, okay fine, I'll help, but we need to do this by the book", Andy glanced at Caretaker, "or at least in a way that everyone is kept safe. Like you've said, Whumpee needs to be protected from Mitch."

"I do agree with that", Caretaker nodded, "there is a lot of trauma pent up in Whumpee that we haven't been able to work on yet."

"If we are in agreement am I allowed to move to my next faze of talking to the human weapons, then. After that I will talk to Mitch and see if he even wants this. Then we plan everything else", the Director looked at the group.

Caretaker nodded, "yes."

"Yes", Mcgee smiled at Cass.

"Okay", Andy sighed.

Cass turned to the Director, "yes."

"Alright", the Director grinned, "wish me luck talking to the weapons. I'll visit them individually so they can ask their own questions and not feel judged by each other. If I could have each of you present in the room as well that would be great."

On the way down the hall Cass stopped Caretaker.

"Sir I am so sorry for yelling at you, I didn't mean..", Cass made a worried look.

"It's okay, I enjoyed seeing your passion for this. That's how I know you'll do great, and be a full researcher in know time. Maybe one day we will be senior researchers together", Caretaker smiled, "if you ever need my help, or you have a question don't be afraid to ask me, okay."

"Yes sir, thankyou so much", Cass smiled.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots

Sp Special Containment taglist. @written-by-jayy

#sp special containment #original story #whump community #whumplr #whumblr #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump #whumpee #whump scenario #whumper #caretaking #oc #whump series

[docholligay]

Doc with today's educational environment, how long would you last as a college professor?

Ah, you must have been in the Piranesi book club, where I talked about how I was a failed Lit professor and honestly I feel like that was the best thing that ever happened to me.

You know, I am a particular sort of person, and one of those things that I think made me who i am is that for a number of years I, I guess I'll say, "worked without a net." And so, you know, when i left academia I had no fucking clue what I was going to do with the rest of my life. My peers who were continuing on to the graduate level were like, "I mean, I think I'm going to be miserable too, but if I just stop with a bachelor's, I'm not going to be able to get a job, or worse, I'll only be able to get a job that a high school graduate could get and that will make my degree worthless. What are you going to do?" and my response was essentially, "I don't know! Not this! Tend bar for awhile, maybe." But I didn't consider my education a waste (I DO consider the degree a waste. Who the fuck cares? I wish i could have gotten the knowledge cheaper without a degree. My degree has only ever been proof that I had good enough credit to make it through the system. I know a ton of fucking idiots with degrees, and intelligent people without them.)

Anyway, I am very interested in talking about books, and I love helping people get better and looking for what lies beneath the text and engaging with it, and learning about lenses, and stuff like that. I adore the teaching aspect of teaching. But I am not interested in strip mining a classic novel while invoking the dark sainthood of the critical schools of thought, praying for the absolution of a tenure that will never come. I am not interested in the auto-da-fé of student evaluations and peer review, coming year after year while wizened old men weigh the annoyance of me versus my diversity credentials versus how low they can keep my salary. I am not interested in engaging with the thousand tiny cuts of nineteen year olds telling me all the reasons they can't do something. I am not interested having to pan every single essay paper like its a mountain stream in 1849, only to find myself wondering if this is ChatGPT or the student really did turn in the literary equivalent of overcooked chicken breast, because they don't want to be here, they don't want to learn, and they would be happier getting a stamp saying, "My parents have access to forty thousand dollars, you may hire me."

I wouldn't last because you could offer me a position teaching courses *I* came up, and i would not take it. I would not teach Literature of the American West, because I do not want to teach in a formal setting, literally ever. I would not get beyond the offer email. If I wrote the next Great American Novel, and fuckin...Harvard, i guess, was like, "hey do you want to teach a class here?" No. I said, "You can't fire me, i quit," fifteen years ago, and I stand by it.

#It helps that literally ever arts/communication/etc major I know who went into academia is miserable #and I am very happy! #genuinely I would love a classroom where everyone is engaged and wants to learn #I adored teaching creative writing for the 13-17 set

[someinstant]

I was tagged by @bright-thorn in a quick get-to-know-you game, and what the heck. I've got time before a meeting, so let's do this!

Tag nine (9) people you'd like to know better!

Last song: "Doo Wop (That Thing)," Ms. Lauryn Hill. Today was our first day back in the classroom for pre-planning, and I have a million things I need to do before I have kiddos in front of me on August 1st. And because one of the things I have to do is check transcripts for all of my rosters-- gotta make sure that my seniors aren't missing any graduation requirements, gotta keep an eye out for ELL and 504 and IEP and gifted services, gotta check that no new transfers have duplicate credits, or aren't placed correctly-- I was working my way through a lot of old favorites today as background music. Stuff that would keep me awake and focused so I wouldn't miss anything critical-- and that I knew well enough for it to not be distracting. So The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill fit the bill and was my last selection of the day.

Currently reading: Oh, like four different things. The City of Brass, by S.A. Chakraborty, which I started reading ages ago and then got distracted by life, so I've started over. A Memory Called Empire, by Arkady Martine, which I started reading during the early summer of 2020 and absolutely adored-- and then both my parents needed major surgeries within the same week, and a week later my gallbladder gave out on me-- and in the chaos and haze of am-I-dying-or-is-my-gallbladder-infected, I couldn't concentrate on it. So I've started it again as well, and it's so brilliant. I love it. But it does take me immediately back to that godawful summer in a very visceral way, which makes me somewhat uncomfortable. A couple of historical murder mysteries. And I've just started The Anarchy by William Dalrymple, which is about the role of the British East India company in South Asia.

Currently watching: Literally? I've got the replay of Stage 3 of the Tour de France Femmes on right now because I couldn't watch it live. (Stupid having to work for a living.) In the greater sense, I've just finished watching The Law According to Lidia Poet on Netflix, which hits all sorts of buttons for me, because I do love a good period mystery show-- especially if it's not set in the UK. Plus the costuming is fabulous. I'm two episodes into the second season of Shadow & Bone, but-- eh, I dunno. I really am only interested in one or two of the storylines, so I'm not sure I'm going to finish it.

Current obsession: I am so sorry to everyone who has suddenly been thrown into my rabid cycling fandom, especially if you started following me for, like, Andor stuff or whatever. I'll be somewhat normal again soon, I promise, and will only occasionally reblog GIFsets of Wout van Aert doing Wout van Aert-ish things until it's time for the Vuelta. What you have to understand is that this is not a new thing for me: I've been following men's pro cycling in the form of the Tour de France since I was... twelve? Thirteen? That's when I got seriously into long-distance cycling for a while, there. And while I'm nowhere near as fit as I used to be and the week-long cycling journeys my dad and I used to do are now well out of my reach, I still watch cycling obsessively. It used to be just the Tour de France, and then I started following riders and related folks on various social media platforms, and then started listening to podcasts, and then I started watching the other Grand Tours, and the past several years I've also gotten sucked into watching the spring Classics, and now I've also fallen down the rabbit hole of women's pro cycling, too. And as an obsession it is at its most all-consuming every year during July, which is when the Tour is on-- and I live blog the whole thing. (Not on this platform, although I've considered it.) Like, I do detailed narrative stage-by-stage write ups. The document for this year's total recap wound up being 46k words long, so. Yeah. Definitely an obsession, and it's one that everyone around me just has to kind of learn to live with during the summer every year.

And if you would like to answer these questions yourself, please consider yourself tagged! I love learning things about folks.

#all about eve #ask game

[allsystemsarenotgo]

What is the measurement of success and failure?

Friday night, I watched a dear friend graduate with a Bachelor's degree in Electrical Engineering and dual minors in Maths and Computer Science in four years.

Something I long dreamed of doing in high school. I wanted to go into Mechanical Engineering. That's what my grandfather had done and partial of what my father did.

But when I got to college, despite being an A/B student in high school, I was woefully unprepared. I couldn't do anything right. I couldn't academically pass even the basic classes.

There was a point in my second semester of freshman year that I locked myself in my dorm room for a solid week, just stuck in a very deep depression. My peer counselor had to use her master key to do a welfare check on me, and take me to the on-campus counseling center.

And it got bad enough after four semesters that my GPA hit a point that I had to change majors. So I changed from mechanical to computer science. I passed the basic classes there without issue - and one of them I was told to shut up and stop answering questions because I already knew the material but had to take the class just to have the credit on my transcript. I even had no issues with the couple of 3,000 and 4000 level courses I took in the program, but then ran into hurdles in the later classes. But there was just one specific professor that did not like me, I'm not even sure he liked anybody, and just really tried to make my life miserable. Two semesters I took his class trying to get a passing credit and failed to do so; I took the class as a condensed summer with a different professor and got through it with no problem and a high B. But the damage had been done.

I was expulsed from the engineering department as a whole after my 8th semester on campus (10 semesters counting two summers).

I ended up graduating with a bachelor's in University Studies after another 6 semesters (4 full and 2 summer). Where I went, it was basically their fast track program to get out of the college, allowing me to count three minors worth of accreditation towards a generic bachelor's. Considering I had accrued enough hours that would otherwise count for a master's degree, it was all the more depressing too have a generic bachelor's that wouldn't really mean much in life.

Does that mean I was an academic failure?

I've never been much of a social bug, but many of the friends that I made over those 6 years for the only friends I had in life. The only social life I knew was the one with other students.

It wasn't much longer than a year after I graduated that I no longer had most of those friends, and in subsequent years that number dropped more and more.

These days I only have one friend I still talk to from college, but we haven't gotten together in a few years. He is a high level executive at a firearms company now while raising two daughters on his own after their mother relinquished her rights.

My social bubble has only minutely increased since then. The title of "Best Friend" has bounced from person to person as they painfully came and went. My social bubble at this point only consists of the girlfriend on a weekendly basis and K and D (whom I just saw last week for the first time in months but text daily).

I text J and M at least once a week, sometimes daily. But I just saw J for the first time in at least a year as she walked for college graduation, and I have only seen M once (last year) in the last decade.

But outside of Facebook, that's my social/conversation bubble.

Does that mean I am a social failure?

I've never held a "good" job; I'm always lived more or less paycheck to paycheck. The "extra" things I've accrued in life have generally been purchased with my savings account of my mum's inheritance. I've spent 75% of what I inherited in the few years since she passed; granted a chunk of that was eliminating my student loans.

Does that mean I am an employment and/or financial failure?

What is the measurement in success and failure? I feel like so much of a failure when I am surrounded by "more" successful people.

I feel like there are some things, like my friend's graduation, where I had small contributions and share a bit in the success-by-proxy. Is that wrong?

It's hard not to be mad at myself about things of the past. When it comes to "What would you tell a younger self?"... So many things.

Reflecting back on the progression of J and our friendship, it just doesn't make me feel good about myself. During the ceremony, a student spoke about how she is a first generation college student/graduate from an immigrant family, and all the effort that was required for success.

Seeing people go and do and complete the things that I wished I could do but didn't...it hurts the self-esteem.

There are so many things I wish I could time travel and fix so that I could be a better me.

But I can't. I'm just another random bloke with a meaningless degree that can't get any jobs that my knowledge could otherwise maybe get me into...or that I could have gotten myself if I would have been better at university.

Yay for those that can apply themselves and be successful.

Depression for those that have failed in life.

🙋‍♂️

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

Stakes and Villains

Spoilers for Mythic Item Obtained.

One of the great things about Returner storylines in manhwa is that they cleanly set up the villain as a real threat.

It doesn't get much more real than "they're strong enough to kill the protagonist and they did."

The Lone Spellcaster and Mythic Item Obtained have gotten to a very similar-vibing midgame, with the hero a young man trying to outplay some evil deity-game and looking supremely OP (which he is) to all the normies around him.

Lone Spellcaster ends up feeling really vanilla to me for a lot of reasons, but one of the easiest to point to is how the author didn't do the prep of setting up a villain to strive for. Someone so far beyond the protagonist that even with the powers he gains it seems unthinkable to challenge them. It seems like they're trying to add such a character in now, or perhaps make the game system itself the antagonistic force, but everything feels shortsighted and even if they came up with a longterm villain now they've done so many villain-o-the-week plots that the reader just wouldn't believe it without introducing consequences like the killing of someone from the harem supporting cast, which I'm very clear this author won't do.

Mythic Item Obtained has a villain whose lackey had the power to write himself into the protagonist's life to ruin him, and are clearly far stronger than the protagonist. They're being held back from just murdering him via political pressure from fellow gods and the fear of triggering Ragnarok with some prophecy shenanigans, but there's no bones about, "In a fair fight between the hero and final boss in this story, if it happened right now the hero would lose." There's still crowds of impressed background characters (though I give it more credit than Lone Spellcaster for also having more interesting male background characters and not just [harem members] vs [the others]) and there are sub-bosses who are far less powerful than the protagonist so we still get plotlines where he absolutely clowns on the opposition.

One of the things that strikes me about this as I'm writing it just now is that the super-powers in Lone Spellcaster feel meaningless because they're always off the top of the power chart. Mythic Item Obtained has an incredible suite of power but in his case we see why he's constantly pushing himself to get more powerful. He's likely going to be the most powerful human in the story by the time he graduates adventurer school, but he's right to act as if that's not nearly enough to handle the challenge he's up against.

#mythic item obtained #the lone spellcaster #webtoon #review

[storiesundercandlelight]

Hi there hope you're doing okay I was wondering if you can make an indiana jones fix x student reader but in secret thank

You hurried down the crowded university corridor, dodging past students as you made your way to Indy's office. It had been a few weeks since you'd been able to spend any time together, with finals approaching you were either studying or he was grading and prepping his student, yourself included.

The door to his office was closed and you were thankful to see there were no students waiting outside to be seen. Your hand reached for the handle, slipping in quickly and closing the door behind you, twisting the lock on the handle closed as you did.

Indy was leant over his desk, looking over a mountain of papers but his eyes met yours when he heard you come in.

"Hey kiddo"

"You know I hate being called that" You moved over to the desk, letting your bag slip off your shoulders and onto the chair in front of it.

"Sure it's why I enjoy calling you it so much" He threw a smirk at you before leaning up to give you his full attention, he slipped his glasses off, placing them on the desk. "So what's up? Come to check if I'm being fair on your paper?"

"Why wouldn't you be fair? I'm pretty sure I've more than earned my extra credit" You smirked back at him before making your way around the desk, positioning yourself between his legs, your ass resting against the hard desk.

His hands instantly went to your hips as he started pulling you and himself closer together. "I guess you have" He was so close, teasing you with the idea of a kiss but just not close enough to take it.

"I mean I was a little worried you'd gotten bored of me professor" You said in your best pouty voice, your fingers played with the collar of his jacket. "It's been a while since you helped me study I can barely remember anything"

Indy laughed before pulling you tight against him. "Can't have all that hard work going to waste" You felt his lips against yours, teasing you still not quite giving into kissing you. You grabbed hold of his jacket ready to pull him to you and finally get your damn kiss but a loud group of students going past the door made him pull back from you. "We shouldn't, not here"

You sighed. "I locked the door"

"I know, but you shouldn't have done that either, you know what will happen if we get caught" You let go of his jacket, you weren't angry, just sad that you had to be so careful, especially when you'd both been so busy lately.

"Hey come on" He tilted your head up so your eyes met his. "I know it's not been great lately...tell you what, I'm free tonight, you are too right?" You nodded. "Great, you can come over to my place"

You smiled "Deal"

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

You loved Indy's house. It was full of little treasure and trinkets he'd picked up over the years, maps and books littered around, the furniture had that warm brown leather feel, you could honestly tell you'd walked into an archaeologists home when you went into his house. You were both more relaxed here too, the pressure and worry of your secret relationship didn't follow you here.

You hated it truth be told, sure he was older but you were so mature for your age, everyone said so and more importantly, you felt so. But rules were rules you guessed, but you were still counting down the days to your graduation, the day were you could say screw you to everyone and just be a normal couple.

"You're thinking about something" Your eyes snapped up to Indy, you were both on his couch, your legs were laying across him, his hand was gently stroking.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"No, just wondering what's going on up there"

"Just thinking about us, how in two weeks it'll be different"

"Sure, although maybe we should still go slow okay? I don't want it to be obvious"

"Yeah I know" You smiled at each other, silence falling over you again as you laid there listening to the clock ticking and watching Indy's hand move back and forth over your leg. You smiled to yourself before moving, making quick work of climbing onto Indy's lap.

"You know..." Your hands began playing with the buttons on his shirt, popping them out slowly. "I'm gonna miss calling you professor"

"Really?" Indy's hands moved up along your thighs, along your hips and under the hem of your shirt, teasing the skin there. "Well I'm sure we can think of ways to keep it relevant" He'd moved closer now, his lips peppering kisses along your neck as he spoke. God he was so good at that.

Your hands tangles into his hair, pulling lightly until he moved back to look at you. You wasted no time pulling him in for a heated kiss, his hands were everywhere, pushing your top up, pulling you even closer. You let a moan mix into the kiss and he took the opportunity to push his tongue against yours.

His shirt was unbuttoned now, you pushed it off his shoulders letting your hands feel over his toned chest. Suddenly you were off the couch, you gasped and grabbed onto Indy, your legs wrapping quickly around him as he moved you from the couch into the bedroom.

He dropped you onto the bed before making quick work of your pants and shirt, leaving you in your underwear. He stopped for a moment, eye scanning over you before meeting your gaze.

"You know, I gotta be honest that paper you handed in wasn't your best work"

"No?"

"No, I think we might need to put in a little more effort..." He moved down and slowly dragged your panties down your legs. "Or you could persuade me to give you a good grade but...that doesn't seem fair"

"I can be persuasive"

"Mhmm" He placed kisses along the insides of your thighs, moving closer to where you wanted him but at an agonising pace.

"Indy" You groaned, willing him to hurry up, but he pulled away. You leant up onto your arms and looked up at him, disappointment painted over your face.

He laughed. "Professor"

You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"Oh I'm always serious doll, it's professor or nothing at all" He leant back down and carried on with his task of kissing and teasing before finally you felt his tongue lick along your folds. You dropped back down to the bed with a moan, his tongue was moving so fast compared to his teasing before you could already feel yourself building up. His fingers teased at your entrance before pushing in, curling right away to hit that sweet spot inside of you.

"Oh god don't stop please" you felt breathless as he continued to lick and move his fingers and a rapid pace. But suddenly everything stopped. You groaned, eyes snapping to Indy as he moved back over you and placed a quick kiss on your lips.

"So impatient" Without warning he pushed into you, filling you up in one go. You moaned, arching into him as he started moving...so slowly. "You want me to go faster?"

"Yes" He stopped again entirely, you looked at him, at his disappointed pout and you realised your mistake. "Yes professor, as fast as you can" He didn't disappoint.

Indy moved at a merciless pace now, his hips pushing you into the bed, his hands pulling and grabbing at you, moving over your breasts, up your neck, his fingers brushing over your jaw before he leaned in to kiss you. You weren't going to last long at this pace and he knew it, his lips trailed along your neck, nipping and leaving little marks you knew your friends would see.

"Indy..."

"I know doll" He didn't stop even then, if anything he moved faster. Your moans filled the room as you grew closer and closer, your legs tensing as your release teased to overflow over you.

Indy moved his hand between you to touch your sensitive clit and that was it, you threw your head back as you release washed over you, Indy's name falling countless times from your lips. He was close to follow moaning out his release, hips faltering as he rode out his high.

His fingers danced delicately along your bare skin, the sheets wrapped around you both as you just laid there, enjoying each others company. "You're beautiful" you smiled and kissed him gently before pulling back and sighing.

"So tell me Professor, what am I meant to tell people about these?" You pointed to the small but very obvious marks along your neck.

"Hmm... well..."

"You know what never mind, I'll just tell my friends it was a guy on the football team, plenty of those"

"Football team? Really?" You giggled at Indy's clear jealously, you loved playing with him like this.

"Sure, but don't worry professor, none of them will ever be as good as you" You giggled.

"I'll make sure of it"

#indiana jones fanfiction #indiana jones x reader #indiana jones

[allywritesforfun]

{The Letterman Jacket} Dreamnotfound

summary: I got this idea from this tweet, all credits go to the original poster. I also added my own twist to it <3

trigger warnings: I think swearing? I honestly can't remember, I edited this at 2 in the morning

regular masterlist

taglist- i will be posting more dnf <3

anon list

George left his house in a rush. Every morning he always slept in, no matter how many alarms he set to wake him up. This morning he was lucky that he left his blinds open the night before, otherwise the sun would have never gotten him up.

He rushed out the door without a second thought. His hair was left unbrushed and he wore his decent looking pajamas. He ran outside and sighed, realizing that he would have barely enough time to make it to school. If he sped walk and ran across some crosswalks, he should get there right as the bell rang.

George must’ve been really good at math because the bell rang a second after he set his backpack down on the ground, leaning up against his chair. He took a minute just to breathe, it's been a while since he had to run most of the way to school.

The teacher was still getting the lesson set up and allowed the class to talk for a few minutes. George took the time to prop up his phone and do his best to fix his hair. You could tell by the way he looked that he didn't attempt to get ready today. .

He felt the eyes of his assigned table partner, Dream, on his body, fixated on his movements. He tried to ignore him at first, but Dream started to tap his finger against the table to get his attention.

“Can I help you?” George asked the boy next to him.

Dream pretended like he didn't know what George was talking about, “Hm? What did you say?”

George huffed out, “I can feel you staring at me. Quit it out…it's weird.”

“I’m not trying to stare!” Dream exclaimed. “You just had your arms all over the place and it was hard to focus on anything else.”

George rolled his eyes and finished up fixing his hair. He reflected on his morning with a shiver, realizing that it wasn't cold enough outside for the heat to kick in the school. The classroom was freezing and the thought of the heat never gonna start made him shiver and discreetly rub his triceps, trying to warm up.

“Cold?” Dream asked.

George nodded, “I-I was running late…again. I didn't think to grab a jacket so I just have this black short sleeve that I slept in. I didn't think the room would be this cold.”

Dream leaned forward in his chair and shrugged his jacket off. He folded it nice and neat before offering it to George, “I have a sweatshirt underneath my letterman jacket. You can take the jacket if you’d like. Maybe it will get you warmed up enough to last the day?”

George pushed the jacket back at him, “It’s friday, aren't you supposed to wear that to spread awareness for the game?”

“My presence alone reminds people of the game. You don't see many 6’3, hot, all-star receivers on the team besides me don’t you?” Dream bloated. “You can just give it back to me at the end of class.”

“I don't ever go to the games,” George answered. “I prefer to stay at home, away from the people.”

Dream offered his jacket again, “Take the jacket, George. You’re gonna be cold all class and then you’re not gonna focus and keep shivering and then I won’t focus. It's for the better of our education if you wear it.”

George thought about it for a second; Dream was right, if he never warmed up, then he wouldn't focus and he needed this class to graduate. “Fine,” George took the jacket from Dream’s hands and slipped it on. It was big on his smaller frame, but warm nonetheless, “Thank you. This is very thoughtful of you.”

“You’re welcome, George.”

George putting on the jacket might have been more distracting than being cold. This was his first time ever wearing someone else’s jacket and made him feel fuzzy on the inside. Which was weird to him because it was Dream’s. Dream was just an asshole, stuck up football star that only was popular for his looks. George never thought much of him besides when they needed to discuss a chapter or two of the reading assignment…until now.

The longer George wore Dream’s jacket, the more it grew on him. George started to love wearing the jacket; It brought a sense of security and warmth to him, which he had never felt before in the school.

Class went on and George found himself snuggling into the jacket. He had his hands in the sleeves, making paws and hugged himself. Dream was right, it was way better than being cold.

George looked at the time as the teacher wrapped up the lesson, one minute til the bell rang. He packed away his notebook, pen, and reading book. Just as he was about to give Dream his jacket back, the bell rang. George looked over to Dream, who was already up and walking out the door.

“Wait!” George called, running out the door. A few feet ahead he saw Dream talking with some other boys from the football team. He decided against interrupting their conversation. It would've been awkward and Dream, the star of the football team, probably wouldn't want to explain why he gave some boy his jacket to wear.

George continued to his next class. He planned on giving it back during the next passing period, or at least by the end of the day. His next class was a science class. The teacher was giving a lecture on genetics, but George noticed that everyone seemed to be whispering. He pushed it to the back of his mind and played it off as the lesson not making sense, but he soon realized that they weren't listening at all to the lesson.

Everyone was whispering to each other while looking at him, some even pointed. He sunk down in his chair a little bit, confused. He did his best to pay attention to the lesson and went back to hugging himself with the jacket…

…the jacket. He never took off Dream’s jacket. He was so warm and comfortable in it that he forgot to take it off and hide it in his backpack. George felt the girl behind him tap his shoulder.

“What?” He turned around and accidentally snapped at her.

Ignoring how hostile George was, she asked, “Are you dating Dream?”

He shook his head violently, “What? No! Of course I’m not! Why would you think that?”

Her table partner leaned in and answered, “Well you’re wearing his jacket. We all thought you might have started dating him…or decided to be open?”

George shook his head, “How did you know it was his jacket?”

“It has his last name on the back, Taken?” She answered. “All the boys have their last name on the back.”

“God damn it!” George cursed under his breath and whipped the jacket off, setting it on the ground next to him.

George didn't put it back on for the rest of the day. He hoped that only his class would notice and not say anything, but it was clear by the end of the day that everyone knew that he had Dream’s jacket. George tried to catch Dream in the hallway, but he must’ve been embarrassed because he walked the other direction or turned down the opposite hall.

He ended up taking the jacket home. He just could never catch Dream. Not knowing what to do, he called his only friend, Wilbur.

Wilbur was quick to answer, “Dream Taken huh?”

George sighed, “It’s not what it looks like!”

“You know, I had a feeling that you would call.”

“Let me explain,” George started. “I was late this morning-”

“-Like every morning.”

“And I didn't bring a sweatshirt to school and I was shivering and it was distracting both of us first hour so he offered it to me to wear for the class but he must’ve forgotten and I didn't take it off for the next class and now everyone thinks we’re dating! I have answered so many questions today, Wilbur! I didn't think I would ever get this popular!”

“Why did you forget to take it off, George?”

“W-What?”

“You kept it on for a reason didn't you?” Wilbur asked. “If you hated wearing it then you would have taken off, but you didn't. Do you have a thing for Dream?”

George flopped back on his bed and combed his hand through his hair, “I didn't think I did but… Dream was always this annoying football kid to me. Today he showed me kindness and that he cared and… and I noticed his beauty. He’s so handsome, Wil. I never thought about it till today. His frame is the perfect size, his muscles bulge out but don't take over his body, his hair perfectly falls over his eyes, and now that I think of it- he has the softest hands.”

“He’s an asshole, George,” Wilbur reminded him. “A narcissistic asshole.”

“Wilbur, can I be honest? I don't think he is,” George admitted. “I think he just puts on that persona because he’s an all-star. He never gets the chance to relax and be soft with people, but he was with me today. I’m… I’m attracted to him.”

“After one day?” Wilbur questioned. “You wore his jacket and- do you have the jacket on now?”

George sighed looking down at himself, shamelessly wearing Dream’s jacket, “Yea… I wore it for the walk home. It’s cold out.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“No…” George answered faintly, Wilbur could barely hear it.

“You know I support you, yea?” Wilbur answered. “If you wanna go after Dream, then I’ll be here for you. I just think you’re going about it the wrong way.”

“Thank you,” George replied. “How am I gonna get this jacket back to him? I can't do it during school with everyone watching and I work this weekend…”

“Do it after his game,” Wilbur suggested. “Get him to meet you behind the bleachers or somewhere secret and no one has to know.”

“Will you go with me?” He asked. “I’ve never been to a game before.”

Wilbur sighed, “I would if I could, George. But I have to play in the band so I’ll be on the sidelines all game. I’ll be there though, just not with you.”

George sighed and ended the call. The only way he was gonna give this jacket back was to go to that game alone. He looked at the time. He had a good three hours before the game started. He knew he had to get there earlier to catch Dream and talk to him.

George laid into the jacket, breathing into it.

Dream smells so good! He smells like home and heaven rolled into one!

He kept the jacket on the entire time getting ready. He grew an emotional attachment to it. Without it on, he felt naked and exposed. He decided that it didn't hurt to wear it at home where no one would know.

He checked himself in the mirror one last time; this was the first time he has ever cared about what he looks like going out. The closer the time got to leaving, the more anxious he felt. This small exchange was a huge deal to him.

He played out multiple scenarios in his head. He really hoped that he didn't hurt or offend Dream by wearing it to class. Dream probably didn't want to see him and burn the jacket all together.

He disregarded these thoughts on his walk to the stadium. Dream would never react that way, at least not with him. The more he thought about it, the more he theorized that Dream left class early on purpose. He had a feeling that Dream wanted him to have the jacket. But at the same time, maybe he never meant for people to see George wear the jacket.

He lost his train of thought when he could see the stadium in the distance. He slipped the jacket off and held it in his hands. There would be nothing more embarrassing than walking into the stadium wearing it.

He paid for his ticket and walked inside, overcome with different sensations. To the right of him was the smell of fresh hotdogs from concessions. He heard a teacher yelling in the distance about a raffle going on. The band was warming up under the bleachers.

The bleachers themselves were filled. George didn't realize that they were playing his school’s rival team tonight. All of the bleachers were filled with students, teachers, families, and some people from the community. It was so packed that people had to stand in the aisles.

George was not about to go sit next to some random families and especially not with his peers after today’s commotion. He decided to wait by the fence gate to the track field that was wrapped around the football field. George got there earlier than he thought, there were only coaches, waterboys, and referees on the field.

He held the jacket in his right arm and his phone in his left. He was gonna text Wilbur about how nervous he was and how he wanted to back out, but he remembered that Wilbur would never see it anyways.

He sighed and leaned against the cold, steel fence. As the sun went down, the air only got colder and a light breeze danced over the bleachers. George again, was freezing, but he learned from his mistakes and kept the jacket in his hands.

The ground started to vibrate underneath him. He looked back and saw the football boys running out onto the field. He backed away a few feet and looked for Dream. Dream was near the end of the boys, running along with the flag holders.

Just as he was about to pass George, he slowed down and locked eyes with him. “George!” Dream quickly stopped and took the jacket from George’s hands and unfolded it. “What are you doing without a jacket again! It's even colder than it was this morning and it's gonna keep getting colder!” Dream didn't let George move as he placed his jacket around his shoulders and made sure that it made a warm, protective blanket around him, “Keep this on! You’re gonna freeze to death if you don’t! I’ll come find you after the game okay?”

Dream smiled and waved at George as he ran off to catch up on warm-ups. George wanted to stop him and tell him that he needed to take the jacket so that he could go home, but that smile put George in a trance. It was the most beautiful smile that he has ever seen and he wanted to see more of it. The only way to do that was to stay. So George stayed right by the fence like Dream wanted him too.

George understood a little about football, the basics and stuff that Dream would try telling him about. At first, George had no reaction to the game and it was more that he was waiting for the game to be over; however, the more the game went on, and the more the crowd grew louder, and closer the game got, George felt himself getting excited for the game. He discovered this underlying passion to support the team. But it really wasn't the team; He wanted to support Dream. George would only cheer when Dream did something good, like catch the ball or run really fast.

Everytime that Dream made a touchdown, he would celebrate with his teammates and then lock eyes with George. With everytime he looked over, he held the contact a little longer. It was hard for George to see Dream’s smile from so far away, but he could feel it. He felt the warmth and happiness that Dream gave him even when Dream wasn't near him.

When the team’s defense was playing, Dream was on the bench either talking with coaches or getting water. Everytime he got water, he was never focused on the game. Instead, he stared at George and took in the pretty boy in front of him. He loved watching George slowly get more into the game and the sparkle in his eyes as it went on. If Dream was lucky enough, George would look over at him and they would give little waves to each other and spoke through hand signals that only they could understand.

George proudly wore the jacket over his shoulders, not daring to fix it from where Dream placed it on him. That was George’s validation. Dream wanted George to wear his jacket and he didn't care who saw. All he cared about was George staying warm and feeling good, and it showed.

The game came down to the final seconds. Dream’s team was down by one point on fourth down with just enough time to get a play in. The teams went back and forth calling timeouts, trying to organize the perfect plan to win. There was a solid forty yards that Dream’s team needed to get a touchdown and win the game, the play had to be the perfect play.

Dream lined up on the yard line, getting as far forward as he could without passing it and causing a flag. He anxiously rubbed his hands together, going through the play one last time in his head. He looked over at George who instanously calmed his nerves with a simple thumbs up and a faint “you got this.”

The second the football was tossed back to the quarterback, Dream took off, directly to the right and ran down the line. He realized that the defence had staked their players on him in layers and that he would immediately get tackled if he went forward with the coaches plan. He ran back towards the quarterback, “Sapnap! Ball! Ball! Ball!”

Sapnap and Dream have been secretly working on this play for weeks. In case they ever got into a situation like this exact one, they knew what to do. Sapnap listened to Dream’s voice get closer and closer. At the right time, he tossed the football up and behind him without looking, causing the crowd to gasp. The crowd, including George, went crazy as Dream ran out from nowhere and caught the ball in the air and immediately tossed it to the middle of the field, where Sapnap was completely open. Dream threw the ball a little short, but Sapnap reached out and grabbed it with one hand before it slipped away. Dream sprinted up the left side of the field and only looked at Sapnap, who was directing him on where to go. Sapnap brought his arm and the ball to his ear and launched the ball in the opposite direction of where Dream was going, just like they had practiced. Dream did a v-cut, turning in the direction of the ball, leaving his opponents behind him and caught the ball in the endzone.

Touchdown

The entirety of Dream’s team sprinted out on the field as Dream and Sapnap celebrated the success of their play and the big win of the night. The team huddled around Dream and Sapnap, but Dream managed to break away from the group. The team let him be and continued to celebrate with their all-star quarterback.

Meanwhile, Dream was jogging towards George, discarding his helmet and gloves, and hopped over the fence, collapsing in George’s arms. Dream was breathing heavily and trying to catch his breath from the amazing play. Dream has never run that fast before and it was all from the adrenaline. Dream engulfed George in a tight hug, maybe even too tight, but George didn't care. George returned Dream’s energetic and sweaty hug with as much energy as he could.

“That was amazing, Dream!” George yelled through the crowd. “I’m so proud of you!”

Dream still had adrenaline rushing through his veins and acted on it. He grabbed the back of the collar of his jacket, which George was still wrapped in, and yanked it forward, colliding his lips with George’s in an unexpected rush of passion.

George did his best to kiss Dream back with the same amount of passion, but he was too surprised and smily to kiss Dream back the way he wanted to. Dream quickly pulled away and kept his hands on George’s shoulder, “Damn you look so fucking good in that!”

“T-thank you!” George stuttered out, his mind still cloudy from the kiss.

“I have to go to the team meeting, don't you dare move!” Dream impulsively laid a quick peck on George’s lips before running away, “And don't you dare take that jacket off!”

taglist: @anarchyanon @nightmarefox15@gray-moon2 @pixviepie @theblueblub

#dream #dreamwastaken #george #georgenotfound #dreamnotfound #dnf #dreamnotfound oneshot #dnf oneshot #dreamnotfound fanfic #dnf fanfic #dreamnotfound fanfiction #dnf fanfiction

[monstermoviedean]

dean + ged thoughts under the cut, featuring some of my favorite things: dismantling the american education system, bullying sera gamble, john's journal, and sad dean hours.

the ged. oh my god the ged. look. the students i knew who went for geds instead of traditional diplomas either wanted to get out of high school early because they were miserable, or were coming back after dropping out. and regardless, it was tough. it's time-consuming, it's expensive, and it requires specific knowledge that i'm going to assume was hard to track down in the late 90s/early 00s.

imagine you're dean, you've been to multiple schools a year, you have no consistent foundation for any academic knowledge, and your dad thinks it's all pointless because he just needs you to follow orders. you missed the unit on polynomials in algebra because you were out of school for three weeks helping your dad track some ghouls. one state teaches us history in eighth grade and one teaches it in ninth, and moving between states means you missed parts of each. you've got to find the money to pay for these, find the curriculum to study, and be a resident in the state long enough to take all four tests - not to mention take and pass all four tests. and he did it. he fucking did it!

he's smart! he's so fucking smart! and i say this with two caveats: 1) that intelligence is a white supremacist concept and 2) that the american education system is primarily based on compliance and memorization, not actual skills. but figuring out how to navigate the system, figuring out what he needed to learn, learning it, and passing those tests with all the obstacles he faced. that takes so much.

here's the thing. the ged line comes from gamble and that makes me think it was intended to be a joke about dean being dumb. but i'd argue that getting a ged in his circumstances was much more difficult than getting a traditional diploma. especially with this kicker: john's journal says dean graduated with a traditional diploma, on time. and you might say, arden, you gotta stop talking about john's journal. to which i say: no <3

john's journal, according to the author, is, "if not official canon, then certainly authorized." he wrote it in conversation with kripke and cathryn humphris during season 4. the ged line is from 05x02 (so dean having a diploma predates dean having a ged). and john's journal says unequivocally that dean got a diploma on june 16, 1998 (page 146).

so what does this mean? you might say the journal is just a stupid semi-canon moneygrab and doesn't count. okay. you might say john doesn't know the difference between a diploma and a ged. fair. i say that we have two options: one, dean had gotten his ged much earlier in secret as a contingency plan and faked getting a traditional diploma for john, or two, dean dropped out without telling anyone, faked getting a traditional diploma, and did his ged later (i'd guess stanford era when john let dean go out on his own).

why? i'm guessing john emphasized repeatedly how important it was for his kids to get "normal" diplomas like "normal" kids. and dean didn't want to let him down. hell, john describes dean graduating as "getting one of my boys through school." no credit to dean, of course. i think there could be an issue too of dean knowing he's not supposed to be the "smart one." john calls sam a borderline genius in his entry about dean's graduation and spends way more time talking about sam than dean. maybe it was in dean's advantage to play dumb? maybe sam's?

finally, timing. if he got his ged early, i'd guess it was because he wanted to drop out and help john hunt. he probably went through the whole process, got it, and never told john because john wouldn't have let him drop out. if he got his ged later, i think it was for cassie. maybe he thought if he got the ged he could go be a college kid just like her.

bottom line? i'm so proud of him. i'm so fucking proud of him.

#spn #long post #oh my god this is so long. i just saw it and Jesus. sorry

[sapphirelass]

G'night <3 - HarryxSister

Hi!!!! So... It's been what - like 250-something days since I last posted? What happened? Well

1: I graduated 'high school'/'upper secondary school' (it's not exactly the same here in Sweden, but... you know? ;)

2: I received an A on my C1 advanced test

3: I passed all tests, and finally got my driving/driver's license...

4: I got into UNI, wihooo :D

it's been a busy few months, to say the least :)

But I'm back! I wouldn't call this the best thing I've ever written, but I still feel like it's good enough to post. I'm also working on a few other projects, so keep an eye out for that ;)

Note: I will probably have to reread this one more time and check for potential errors, but it's late, so I'm just going to trust Grammarly and post it for now! Enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

+ CEFR level C2 (due to passing the C1 advanced test with an A)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 1,3k

Warnings: Mild swearing, mentions of stress and lack of sleep

Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

G'night <3

It was raining. Again. But not just ‘raining’ - it was POURING DOWN - and despite the castle not being surrounded by dementors this year, everything still felt… dark? Cold? Something was changing, and though the ministry refused to listen, Lucy was sure that it was a direct consequence of Voldemort’s recent return. She hadn’t slept well the past few months due to nightmares intruding and disturbing her as soon as she started drifting off, thus explaining why she was still awake despite it being almost three AM.

She shifted slightly and used her right hand to push her long, red hair out of her face. She didn’t find herbology particularly interesting but had decided to use the night to finish as much homework as possible. It’s not healthy, but if you’re unable to sleep, why not be productive instead? Lucy kept writing but was suddenly interrupted by a voice whispering her name.

“Lucy…?

She turned around, accidentally knocking her bottle of ink over in the process, muttered a quick ‘shit’, and spotted a certain redhead on the staircase leading to the boys’ dormitory.

“Oh, Hey, Ron…”, she mumbled as her close friend quietly made his way to the sofa and sat down next to her. “Why are you up? I didn’t wake you, right?”

“No..?”, he said while placing the now empty bottle on the table. Lucy waved her wand swiftly and watched the black-ish liquid disappear from the red carpet beneath them. “No, I woke because of the storm - listen, why're you still up?”

Lucy sighed deeply and leant her head backwards while rubbing her eyes tiredly. She could feel Ron staring at her, but opted for silently looking out the window instead of meeting her friend’s questioning gaze.

“Luce? C’mon…”

“Can’t sleep… It’s really not more complicated than that. I know I won’t fall asleep, so why try?”

“Oh my-! Lucy!”. Ron grabbed Lucy’s left arm and turned her around so she was facing him. “Usually you’re better, but occasionally you’re just as hopeless as Harry. You can’t just… I don’t know - stay awake forever?! I… Have you at least talked to him about it?”

“Are you crazy!?”, she whispered angrily. “Ron, of course I haven’t. Do you honestly think that would help either of us?”

“Yes! Yes, I do! Lucy, I want to help you, but I really don’t think I can. Now, I don’t know how many nights you have gone without sleep, but I do know that your brother has woken me up pretty much every night these past few weeks. Since the two of you are clearly having the same problem, maybe you sho-”

Lucy had closed her eyes and was leaning ever so slightly away from Ron whose voice had gotten louder and harsher. She wasn’t usually so… fragile? Sensitive? However, her abnormal childhood had left its mark on her, and it got especially bad when people she knew well were angry or frustrated. Ron knew this but realized his mistake too late.

“Hey, Luce.”, he mumbled, now much calmer. He slowly moved his hand towards her and placed it carefully on her shoulder once he was sure she didn’t flinch or recoil. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Listen, I just worry, okay? About both of you. Seriously Lou - I’m aware that a lot is going on, but Harry wakes up in nightmares if not every, then every other night, and you’re not sleeping at all - it’s not healthy. It’s not always easy to ask for help, but maybe you don’t have to do everything alone all the time? You have friends, Lou! We’ll always listen, but if you don’t think we’ll understand, Harry definitely will. Do me a favour, if you don’t wanna talk to me, talk to him, please?

Lucy took a shaky breath, moved closer to Ron and let her head rest on his shoulder. He put his arms around her and began gently playing with her hair.

“Thanks”

They sat for a moment, doing nothing but watching the moonlight shining through the window and enjoying each other's company. Ron was about to ask Lucy something when he noticed the girl slowly drifting off to sleep with her head on his shoulder. He pushed some of her hair behind her ear and listened to her steady breathing. It was calming somehow, and Ron would have fallen asleep himself if not for the sound of his name being called from behind.

“Ron?”

Turning around quickly, yet carefully, Ron’s eyes met his best friend’s.

“Harry.. Ehm.. Why’ru awake?”

“Nightmare…”, said Harry slowly, noticing his sister sleeping soundly on the sofa. “What’s your excuse?”

“Ehmm…”, mumbled Ron, shifting awkwardly. “I-She-I woke up and heard something, so I went down here and found her still doing homework. Has apparently been sleepin’ just about as good as you.”

Harry sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “I asked her about that a few days ago… said she was fine. Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“My best guess? She probably didn’t wanna bother you. To be honest, mate, it’s not like it’s been an easy year or anythin’.”

“She could never bother me!”, exclaimed Harry, probably a bit too loud. “She knows that!?”

“Shhh…”, mumbled Ron uncomfortably. “We should probably let her sleep… Look, are you saying you talk to her every time you have a bad dream or… you know - feel down?”

“I guess not, but…”

“Then why are you expecting her to?”

Ron moved Lucy and put her head down on the armrest before standing up.

“Look, maybe if you tell her about your struggles she’ll tell you about hers? I don’t know, maybe I’m the wrong person to ask, but it sounds about right to me…?”

“Yeah…”, muttered Harry. “I guess b-”

He turned around quickly when he heard Lucy mumble something incoherent.

“Hey, Luce?”. He walked closer to the sofa and squatted down by his sister, who was now sweating and whimpering softly - clearly suffering from a bad dream. Harry shook her gently, but she moved away from his touch as her breathing became rapid and shallow.

“Lu...”, Harry sighed deeply before taking both of Lucy’s hands into his own. He hated the thought of his sister struggling so but knew from experience that it was inevitable. She suddenly inhaled sharply and sat up.

She looked around frantically, but Harry brought her into his arms and hugged her tightly.

“Shhh… Shh, Lou, you’re fine. I’ve got you, I’ve got you…”

She was breathing even faster and struggled against him, but Harry simply tightened his hold.

“Hey, hey, Lu? Shhh… Shhh… Lucy! Look at me, please?”

Their eyes met, and eventually, Lucy calmed down enough to breathe normally. She sighed deeply and leant her forehead against her older brother’s torso. The common room was completely silent until Ron decided to awkwardly clear his throat and mutter something about going back to bed.

Harry and Lucy remained quiet for a while, but eventually, Lucy decided to speak up.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry…”

“Lu, don’t apologize, please! You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know, bu-”

“No”, said Harry, to which Lucy sighed.

“But”, she continued. “I still feel silly every time it happens.”

“I get it, Lu, you know I do. And I know it’s hard to talk about, but… You help me all the time - would it kill you to let me do the same?”

“Philosopher much?”, said Lucy with a slight smile. “You’re right, though… I guess I should have told you, it’s just...“

“Again, Luce, I get it! Listen, why don’t we both try to get a couple of hours of sleep and then talk tomorrow? It sounds like we might both need it, okay?”

“Yeah”, yawned Lucy, now realizing just how tired she actually was. The thought of going to sleep still frightened her, but knowing that her brother was close made her feel comfortable enough to give it a try.“Sounds good to me. G’night Haz.”

“Night, Lu. Love you”

~ L

Masterlist

#harry potter x sister #harry x sister #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter #hp imagine #ron x oc #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Part 2

Erik unparked his Honda for this so they wouldn't have to ride the bus on their classy date. His car wasn't fancy and it had a small ding but unlike many college students, at least he had one. He had a half tank of gas and had to spray the car with borrowed febreeze since his boy Geo was the last to use it and he'd had a smokeout with some girl on campus, getting his thang sucked. Erik could still smell hints of it though he could tell Geo made an effort.

He cleaned and aired the car and went on. By the time he finished practice, read the chapter assigned from chem, re-showered, rubbed himself with cocoa butter, touched up his mustache with the clippers, and dressed like Brit requested it was time to pic her up.

Erik stood straight in a houndstooth fitted suit showing off his narrow waist, long legs, and broad shoulders. The crisp white button up left open at the neck showed off his signature gold necklace and his smooth brown skin stretched over bone and muscle. He liked it that way. Adjusting his lapels gently, he spun back to face his roommate.

"Thrifting," he muttered answering the unspoken question as he put on his better watch to complete the look.

"Wooo," his roommate Chris frowned, face scrunched from the fire of the suit.. "Pass that to me when you done," he gushed rubbing his own ashy arms as if he had chills. "I need a suit.. Yeah.. I'm a get on my grown man," he sighed as if he planned to go out and buy one immediately.

"Get one," Erik advised.

"I know you ain't going on no date. You taking bitches to spend money now?"

Erik spritzed himself very lightly with his official SpiceBomb cologne, the one he wore to entice and impress. The subtleness would have his date coming in real close to smell him.

"Maneuvers, Chris. You wouldn't understand," he scoffed walking out with a different swag. A grown man swag. He applied a little Dollar Tree chapstick to his notoriously bigass lips midwalk hoping they'd get a lot of use. He also kept a pack of gum with his wallet for his breath. "Brittany," he spoke saying her full name when she picked up the phone. He was outside, leaning against his car with one ankle crossed over the other, his loafer game clean. These were the loafers he wore to interviews.

"I'm coming," she said and he heard her moving around before she remembered to hang up. His eyes remained on where she'd exit from her dorm and when she appeared, he could automatically tell it was her on the stairs before she got out of the building. He looked down briefly, a small smile coming on his face. He felt like he was headed to prom again. She looked damn good and when she emerged she was obviously checking him out too.

She'd re-done her hair in wavy curls and she wore a fitted yellow dress, shoulders and chest exposed and well moisturized. For the first time, he noticed she had a bigass tattoo on her shoulder going into her arm and his interest was peeked. He loved women with tattoos, especially sleeves. It was sexy. She was winning him over already. Enough for him to at least be interested in her story.. or the story behind the tattoo. He had a tat on the back of his neck himself, an initial and a date. Her shoes were a perfect match to her dress color-wise. He was impressed. He hated when big girls dressed sloppy and old-fashioned with too much useless fabric. She looked her age and luscious like a BBW chocolate cake. He ain't mind the rolls.

"What," she mouthed referring to the look on his face as she approached.

"I'm tryna be a gentleman," he smiled, forced, with a subtle shrug giving her the gist of his thoughts before he walked around the car to open the passenger side to guide her in, closing the door.

"Where are you taking me," she smiled at his profile as he drove through city traffic past busses and through narrow lanes. He noticed she really ain't bring not a thing. She was determined not to pay, not even a toll.

The first place he took her was to an upscale art gallery, very bougie, where he walked around and stared thoughtfully at art pieces beside her, faking an interest. It required him to read the informative blurbs and make bullshit guesses about the artists' intent and meaning as he listened to Brit go on and on with her theories. She wished twice that she could take a canvas home to her dormroom, hinting around but Erik didn't have $3,000 to spend just as he knew she didn't or she'd have put the damn thing on layaway. He'd done well though, she was obviously enjoying herself.

"What do you think these colors represent when they transition that way, from blues to black and then red," she wondered aloud taken by a series of abstract paintings. He did not care.

"Well, the red could be rebirth after the blue sadness and the black in the middle is the death, so the artist has been through something impactful and considers themselves in a period of change," he guessed pulling it from his ass.

"I think you're right," she paused thoughtfully. She stood there another minute as he pretended to analyze next to her until they'd seen it all.

"Oh.. look at the time," he paused looking at his watch when the alotted museum time he'd set in his mind, was up. In true gentlemanly fashion, he escorted her to dinner on a harbor cruise where they floated down the harbor to the sound of live jazz. Classy as fuck, especially for a college boy. He used his best etiquette with polite conversation and she ate it all up, saying multiple times how 'nice' and 'beautifoo' it all was. She even called him "such a gentleman." He knew he'd hit a home run. There was even dessert.

"You enjoy yourself?" He knew the answer but still asked on the way back to campus. She was still smiling and talking about the boat. She had a nice smile.

"Yeah, you?" He felt her look in his direction and he smirked.

"Yeah, I had a good time.. Didn't expect you to dance."

"Had to, I was feeling that sax."

"That's why I had to get up and join you, couldn't leave you up there alone," he teased leading to more jokes and banter. His mind kept going to her tattoo, the thing he was most interested in and he looked for his in to ask about it, finding it when she shimmied her shoulder and raised her arm to the song on the radio. "So, what's your tattoo," he asked. "What's it mean?"

"It's a compass for my mom pointing and a rose and then then it says Always in my mind, Forever in my heart with her name over here," she points to a word in large script. Charmayne. "She died three years ago, cancer."

He nodded and when they reached a light, he turned to show his tattoo briefly before readjusting in his seat and focusing on the road. "M.F. for my nigga Major. He got shot my junior year in high school, he was a senior bout to graduate when some niggas killed him over drugs. He's the reason I'm in school now."

"Guess we got more in common that we thought."

"Yeah, bad shit..."

"Good shit too," she pointed out. If you count being greek and in school then she's right.

When they reached the campus their conversation began to slow, halting when he parked the car. She knew what time it was, he hoped he wouldn't have to spell it out.

"...Come on up," she said opening her own door to get out. He followed her inside the building and into her space where he saw her roommate sleep on the common room futon. Brit held a finger in front of her mouth as she continued to her room. "She knew you were coming. I asked her to give us some space."

"Aight." He looked around the bedroom space, "I don't need space right now... Why you all the way over there?" He faced the door she was still standing at and she closed it stepping forward slowly with measured steps as he watched her turtle-like movements. She looked nervous all of a sudden. "...You good?"

"Yeah, take your clothes off," she directed. Easy. He stripped quickly standing there in his black briefs, gold necklace, and watch only.

"Your turn," he gestured before stretching his arms. She was pausing too long for it to sit right with him, but if he asked her one more time if she was okay, she'd probably use it as an excuse to get him out and he hadn't done all that work just to strip to his draws and leave. He decided to be patient. "Take it off, girl," he encouraged swinging his arms. "It's just me and you." She laughed a little but it seemed more like nerves. As she started to try to remove the dress, she paused again like she wasn't sure.

"Let me get your zipper," he offered moving behind her to unzip the dress. He hesitated before deciding to unhook her bra while he was back there. She held her titties like they'd spill if she didn't and he had to wonder why she was suddenly so conservative. "Are you a virgin?" He knew it was a dumb question. Engine RED with the tattoos a virgin? He could laugh.

"Don't tell anyone we know," she whispered and his back went stiff. This had to be a joke.

"I'm being Punk'd right now," he laughed dryly, turning back to his clothes and back. "Please tell me you joking right now..." He waited as she stood there with a guilty expression and in that moment he was so let down. His BBW hot girl fantasy had died just that fast. Engine RED was a fraud, wasn't nothing fiery about her. She couldn't fuck like a bad bitch she just knew how to dance, that was it. Sighing, he slid his hands down his face. She'd gotten him..

"Chill out," she waved putting his thought on pause. "What I'm tryna say is I'm a virgin, but I am still down to do what we planned. You just gotta be patient and help me a bit," she gestured and he stared blankly wondering if it was worth it it to break her in. It was, he determined. Afterall, he was a que. If he couldn't turn her out then who the hell could? Not a kappa. Not a theta. He couldn't let another que do it either because he'd already opened her up to he receptive. He wouldn't let them take his credit. His ego and reputation was tied to this now that he'd gone so far for her.

"Brit. I'm a keep it 100, you know what I'm about," he warned seeing that she understood without him having to say too much. She knew what it was.

"Look, I'm tired of being a damn virgin, I'm ready.. and you can leave after," she retorted taking off her heels.

"I probably will," he scoffed honestly. It wasn't personal. "If you really serious, take off the dress and if you got spanks you might as well take them off too," he instructed hopping onto the twin bed and resting with his hands behind his head. He felt like he was too tall for the bed, his feet hung off. "Come on," he rushed and when she finally finished stripping, she climbed onto the creaking bed over him, her body against his getting him hard. She avoided his lips and he assessed it was on purpose because he certainly hadn't moved. "What, you don't wanna kiss me," he mused.

"I'm not gonna kiss you," she shifted her weight, "That means more to me so I don't wanna kiss you," she explained. She made a fair point.. however.. he loved to kiss. His lips could kill and she needed to experience them, it was crucial. He had to kiss her.

"You on any form of birth control?"

"Yeah, but still use a condom because like you said I don't know you that well."

That offended him, but he could understand.

"I ain't got nothing, but sure."

"Hey, I gotta protect me! If I don't, who will?"

His eyes rolled. She was right.. again. He couldn't even be mad. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and rolled, pulling her and pushing his weight over so that her back was on the bed and he was lying on top. Now that he had her exactly where he wanted her, it was time to show her exactly why he had so many bodies in his count.

#erik killmonger x oc #killmonger smut #killmonger #erik x oc #original

[onewaigu]

Memory (pt.2)

Genre : short story

Theme : angst

Pairing : Kanghyun(Onewe) X Reader

Description : time had stopped once you caught his eyes. this was the very first time you guys met in a very long time. were you friends? who knows. you did ruin a perfectly normal friendship with him. Question was, why were your eyes filled with regret when you saw Kang Hyungu in front of you?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Smiling with a drink in hand, I can talk about it now.

“That'll be-”, you choked on your own words.

You couldn't believe it. Out of all the people in the world, your first ever customer had to be him. Kang Hyungu. Maybe it wasn't him, maybe your eyes were just playing tricks on you. You tried to convince yourself.

“..free-of-charge?”, he cocked his eyebrow questioningly. He was probably amused at your sudden daze.

You snapped out of it.

“2000 Won please”, you avoided his gaze looking at only the money in his outstretched hand.

Once he took the change you gave him, you let out a deep sigh of relief. An air of awkwardness was clouding your consciousness that you weren't even aware you were holding your breath for quite some time.

Finally, he was about to leave.

Except he didn't though. Instead, he paused right in front of the store's entrance with his hand clutching the door's handle, head bowed.

From your peripheral vision, you stared at him quizzically. Slowly in that short period of time, questions started to flood your head only to be interrupted.

Scoff.

“Did you really think I wouldn't recognise you, Y/N?”

He chuckled but it was different than before. Your heart clenched upon hearing the once familiar sound, now coated with an essence of melancholy.

Time seemed to miraculously slow down. The silence in between was almost deafening. Your heart was pounding against your chest. No.

“And here I thought I'd gotten the wrong person but no, it is you isn't it?”, he humoured sarcastically. Ah, that hurt.

Before you could muster up the courage to reply him, you found his fingers curled around your wrist before gently yet firmly dragging you around the counter and out of the store.

You couldn't care less about leaving the store unsupervised. Besides, there weren't many people around.

Thunk.

The sound of the banana milk bottles hitting the table outside brought you out of your thoughts. “You never changed, huh?”, he asked, a faint glimmer of jest in his eyes.

“Still the same Y/N who loves daydreaming”

Now both of you were facing each other, sitting at the table outside the store. The LED lights behind you were illuminating softly onto Hyungu's face. It made him look like an angel almost. Anyone who saw him at this moment would have described him with one word — ethereal. Your eyes unconsciously wandered around his features. Blond suited him well.

“There you go, again”

“So do you”

“Hm?”

You repeated yourself, “I mean, you changed too”. Specks of red dusted your cheeks.

“We have something in common then”, you caught him lifting the corners of his mouth slightly.

I wanna go back, back, back, back, back.

Fitting. Cause you wanted to go back to how it was before with the banana-haired boy in front of you.

“Hm, nice song”, Hyungu hummed.

“..yeah”, your voice trailed.

“It makes me wanna ask, do you ever wanna go back?”, he asked knowing you knew what he meant by 'going back'.

There it was. The kind smile that you always saw whenever you were with him. With your friend, Hyungu.

He nodded understandingly at your silence, he knew. Of course he would.

“If only he hadn't existed in our lives, huh?”

Both of you knew who he meant. Kim Youngjo.

Seemingly perfect to anyone who knew of him, he was a year above you in school. Raven-coloured hair, alluring dark orbs, pearl-white teeth. Juniors idolised him while seniors wanted to be friends with him.

Everything happened when he crossed paths with you.

Ring!

It was lunchtime but you and Hyungu decided to skip it for the school library instead.

Miss Lee, the school's librarian, had told the both of you that the library was going to be restocked with newly-released manhwas. You guys were manhwa addicts so it wasn't surprising that you wanted to be the first two to grab ahold of them.

A few manhwas in, your eyes were starting to droop involuntaringly. Glancing to your right, you saw Hyungu's black fluff of hair touching the pages of a manhwa he was reading. Idiot fell asleep.

You tried to tug the manhwa from under him so he wouldn't drool all over it but you accidentally tugged too hard Hyungu's head hit the table with a low thud.

Oops.

Someone stiffled a laugh.

Your head shot up to see Kim Youngjo-sunbaenim standing near a bookshelf not to far from a still-sleeping Hyungu, trying hard to hide his laughter.

You smiled gingerly in his direction.

That was the very first interaction.

Spicy food should be dubbed as the devil's food in your honest opinion. It tempted and it tortured people. Too bad, your love for it had blinded any signs of rationality in you. You kept eating it then regretting after.

One day, you had bought spicy tteokbokki for lunch. Normally whenever you were having a spicy food crisis, Hyungu would immediately get you some fruits to cool down the spice.

However, he was on sick leave that day so you were forced to suffer silently in your seat. The spiciness was too much you couldn't even stand up.

Luckily for you, a bottle of banana milk appeared in front of your eyes. You didn't even care who gave it to you, you immediately downed the whole bottle.

Later you found out that it was Youngjo-sunbaenim who had given you the banana milk. Blush creeped up your cheeks out of embarrassment. How kind of him.

After that, both you and Youngjo-oppa kept crossing paths with each other. Every time you did, he'd always give you a bottle of banana milk. You found it cute. Days passed and the two of you slowly got closer each day. People were waiting and expecting you two to date.

Eventually on your birthday, he met you after school with two bottles of banana milk in hand.

“Aw, two for me? Tell me, Youngjo-oppa..do you maybe have a crush on me?”, you nudged his shoulders teasingly.

He scratched his red ears, “Actually Y/N, yeah I do”.

You stopped in your tracks. His blunt honesty caught you off guard. Yeah you always thought he was cute and kind but never did you imagine the two of you being more than friends. It made you curious.

“D-do you maybe wanna be more than friends with me?”, he stammered while he fidgeted with his hands behind his back.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you..wanna be my girlfriend?”

For the rest of your school years, you and Youngjo-oppa paraded the hallways as an item. It began with him joining you and Hyungu during lunch. Then he was practically there with the two of you anytime and anywhere. You found it quite endearing..in the past.

Blind love took ahold of you that even when Hyungu would always excuse himself everytime Youngjo-oppa appeared, you didn't even think twice as to why he did it.

The more you were with Youngjo-oppa, the more you were drifting apart from Hyungu. You didn't even notice.

Dating Youngjo-oppa was a thrill. You skipped lessons with him, hanging out under the bleachers. You would sneak out of the apartment at 2 in the morning to go to noraebangs with him. Being with him made you rebellious and you thought that it made you happy.

Until one day, Hyungu approached you after you had avoided him for a few weeks straight.

“Y/N”, he called out.

You tried to avoid him but he was too fast. He then led you under an empty staircase. His face devoid of any humour. “What's happening to you, Y/N?”, he asked looking at your eyes that were avoiding his gaze.

You shrugged him off, “Absolutely nothing's happening to me, Hyungu”.

Just as you were about to leave, he'd caught ahold of your wrist before replying to you in his most gentlest voice, “This isn't funny anymore, Y/N. You know you've changed ever since that guy entered our lives”. He sounded like a defeated puppy.

“That guy is my boyfriend, Hyungu and if you can't accept that then maybe you're much better off without me!”, your voice started to raise, anger boiled in your veins. The nerve of him insulting your boyfriend.

“No I'm not, Y/N..because I care about you”, his voice cracked saying those last words.

“Well, if you cared about me you would understand my feelings”

With that, you just left him alone under the staircase without even daring to look back. Little did you know with slumped shoulders, Hyungu was trying hard not to let his tears fall as your back became smaller in his blurry vision.

From then on, both of you didn't talk to each other even until Hyungu graduated. Unfortunately for you, you had to stay back a year because your grades were failing. So after a few long years of friendship..that was eventually ruined, the two of you were finally not going to see each other everyday.

You always thought to yourself about how stupid you were for trusting Kim Youngjo more than your bestfriend. Now you were alone without a trusted friend or a cheating snake by your side. If you could, you wished to go back to how things were before.

Whoever heard your prayers, you couldn't thank them enough. You had been wondering if fate ever decided to make the two of you cross paths again.

Finally, you were there sipping banana milk with him.

Looking back then, I would've called myself a fool.

[a/n]

this one really took a long time to write heh, anyways here's the angsty part two of Memory ^ ^ Part three's gonna be them talking it out with each other~

enjoy reading and stan Onewe

(video credit : Onewe - Reminisce About All)

#onewe #oneweangst #kanghyun #kang hyunggu #mas0094 #onewefic