#and my school decided to make the day of the ap test (tomorrow) a half day

[number1mingyustan]

Study Break ☾ ♡

highschoolbf!vernon x fem!reader (HIGHSCHOOL SENIORS THAT ARE BOTH 18!!)

Genre: nerdy oc athlete vernon highschool au

Warnings: oral (f.), finger sucking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cursing, fingering (f.)

Summary: Your idiot boyfriends decides to sneak in while you’re studying.

Word Count: 1.4k

(a/n: no its not proofread lol I'll get there one day)

You were deeply immersed in your studying with a soft melody playing in your airpods. It was a Wednesday night in May and you’d been studying for AP Chem for the past hour or so.

The house was quiet, your parents settling down and getting ready for bed.

Tap.

You turn your head toward your window, eyes following the sound. You think it’s just your imagination when you don’t see anything, but the noise repeats itself and you see a… pebble? A pebble flies at your window, causing you to stand up and open it.

You look down only to see your cheeky boyfriend waving at you like a child. What is he doing here?

“Hi!” he whisper-shouts from your lawn.

“What are you doing?” you whisper shout back.

Instead of getting a response, Vernon begins climbing the outer brick of your house. Was be out of his mind?

Thankfully he makes it up safely, sliding his body through your window and closing it back. “Missed you,” he shrugs.

You look at him in disbelief. He plops down onto your bed, causing the books and papers to jump up off your covers.

“Vernon you can’t be here, my parents are home and I’m studying for AP Chem,” you sigh. “My test is tomorrow and it’s a school night so I know your parents didn’t let you come over here anyway.”

“I tried calling you!” he whines. “You didn’t pick up so I just came over here. I didn’t know.”

You smile, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Sorry, I was studying. Had my phone on do not disturb and it was charging.”

You point to the outlet in the corner of the room. “How long have you been studying for?”

“Dunno, Like an hour and a half maybe?” You shrug.

“You’ll be fine then,” he snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as you stand in front of his seated body. “You already got into your dream school with early decision, grades don’t even matter anymore. Besides, I came all the way over here just for you.”

You laugh. “You live next door Vernon. And grades do still matter, this is an AP.”

He groans, falling back into the bed, taking you with him. “Forget how much of an overachiever you are sometimes.”

You attempt to stand back up, but instead Vernon pulls your body closer to his from under you. “Don’t go.”

“Baby I have to study,” you whine.

“You don’t,” he says matter of factly. “I know if I tested you on any of this, you’d know it. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with taking a little break.

His hands lay on your back, slightly lifting up the hem to draw circles on your bare skin. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy feeling his touch, his warmth. It’s comforting, but you still have priorities.

You try getting up again, but this time Vernon switches positions, pining you down. You exhale at the sudden change. He begins leaving soft kisses on your neck.

“Missed you so much,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Vernon,” you moan. “H-Have to study.”

You feel him shake his head against your skin. “10 minutes. ‘S all I need baby. You know I don’t always last long with you.”

He hasn’t lying. It’s not like you had any unrealistic expectations when it came to his stamina considering you guys were still seniors in highschool. Vernon could go at it for 10 minutes on a good day… others closer to 2 minutes. However, you didn’t mind because making you finish was always his priority. If you didn’t finish during the deed, he was going to make sure it happened.

He pulls your shirt over your head. A goofy grin appears on his face when he notices that you’re not wearing a bra. “My parents,” you whisper.

His lips begin nipping at your skin. “Just don’t be too loud,” he whispers back.

His fingers traveled down your body, reaching your bottom. He pulls down your pajama pants and underwear down in one swift move. He begins placing soft kisses on the insides of your thighs.

“Explain the VSEPR theory,” he says.

You open your mouth to respond to him, but no words come out. Rather you let outta a loud moan. His tongue is circling your clit, lips wrapped around the sensitive nub.

Your back arches off the bed, and you quickly cover your mouth with your hands. He punches your thigh, indicating that he’s still expecting an answer from you.

You let your hands fall to his hair. “It-it’s the theory about the- nngh”

Without removing his lips from your heat, you feel him slider of finger into your leaking hole. You were so wet, surly dripping your essence onto your bed sheets,

He hums against your clit. “About what baby?”

He begins lightly sucking on the bud. Your breathing becomes ragged as you try to stay quiet.

“The 3D Models of the… the,” you whimper out a moan.

You feel your orgasm approaching. You squirm on the bed, finding it impossible to stay still as Vernon slips another finger into your core. You let out more breathy moans as he continues to work both his tongue and fingers on you. His pace is quick, never faltering as though it’s his mission to get you to your high.

“Can’t let you cum until you give me the answer baby,” he teases.

“-of the molecules and their shapes and fuckfuckfuckfuck!”

Your words are jammed together, coming out as a quick sentence. He cuts you off by pushing two fingers into your mouth the keep you quiet. You suck harshly as your orgasm takes over. Your legs shake as you enter a state of euphoria, eyes rolling back and back arched.

Once you recover, you muscles relax and you sink back down onto the bed. Vernon hovers over you, slipping his fingers out of your mouth. He looks down at you with pure lust in his eyes. His hard cock pokes at your inner thigh through his pants. He licks his lips as you try to regain your breath.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod, looking up at him with half lidded eyes. Your hands find their way to his body, pulling off his shirt and pulling down his pants. His cock springs up, his reddened tip leaking with precum. You swipe the fluid off with your thumb before leading him to your entrance.

He’s quick to follow along, guiding his hips into yours. The two of you let out a breath in unison at the feeling of him filling you up. You spread your legs wider as he pounds into you. He buries his face into the crook of your neck while covering your mouth with his hand. Your moans over muffled, but just loud enough for him to hear how good he’s making you feel.

Vernon too struggles to keep quiet as he thrusts into you, pressing his face deeper into your skin. His thrusts are fast and hard, filling you up to the brim. Every time he pushes into you he hits a different sweet spot inside your core.

“Shit, I’m close,” he moans into your skin.

His grip on your mouth tightens and he continues bottoming out inside of you. His cock slips in you with ease, allowing his sloppy thrusts to pick up in pace.

It’s only another few shorts moments before he’s cumming. His thrusts get sloppier before he pulls out, stroking himself quickly until he spills his load onto your inner thigh. His head falls back as he does so, mouth agape as he lets out ragged and breathy moans.

He collapses onto the bed next to you, both of you panting softly. “You’re gonna ace it tomorrow, don’t worry.”

“Yeah because our little study session helped so much,” you plays fully roll your eyes.

He chuckles. “Look, I just saw it in your notes. I don’t know what the VESPER theory is but I trust that you’re right.”

He gets up, going into your bathroom to get a wet rag and enters, helping you to clean up.

“VSEPR,” you correct him.

“Yeah that,” he kisses your forehead. “It was cute seeing you get all flustered though.”

You push him playfully. “If you’re not actually going to help me study, then go home.”

He pouts, redressing himself and handing you your clothes. However, when you put your shirt over your head, you’re surprised to see him still standing there with your notebook in hand. He gives you a goofy grin before plopping down onto the bed next to you and quizzing you.

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© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

#seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #choi hansol #vernon #vernon smut #vernon seventeen #kpop

[187days]

Day Fifty-Eight

Today my Global Studies lesson was about what high school is like in China, Japan, and Korea; I read an article, and as I was reading, my students had to identify (by underlining with different colored pencils) ways in which they thought those educational systems had been influenced by Buddhism, Confucianism, or Taoism. We also discussed what's similar or different to their American high school experiences. The result? Decidedly mixed.

It was difficult to keep students in the first section on task; there were a handful who kept being disruptive, and setting everyone else off, which was incredibly frustrating. Buuuut I sent the ringleader to the office, and it mostly stopped after that. In the next section, students were engaged and the vibe was super chill, except for the two students who kept trying to poke each other with their colored pencils. In the third, it was much the same, except there was one student who kept trying to sneak their phone out (badly, though, since I kept catching them). In the last section? Half the students were asking great questions and making the most insightful observations while the other half needed a ton of redirection. No middle ground.

Admittedly, I was really tired by the time the afternoon bell rang.

I know part of the issue is that it's a two-day week before a vacation, but it's also that some of these ninth graders are really not adjusting well to high school expectations, doesn't matter what day it is. I haven't figured out what to do about it yet.

Meantime, in APGOV, we played a round of Kahoot before lunch, then students started a test after lunch (which they'll finish tomorrow). One of the girls told me she likes that I test them fairly often but always allow retakes. She said it doesn't take the pressure totally off- there's still an AP exam to be ready for in May, after all, and it's still a lot of information to learn- but keeps it at a manageable level, so anxiety doesn't get in the way of her preparedness.

I was happy to hear that because that's what I want, basically.

(And there's my decidedly American teaching style showing!)

I do have one student who's been absent for the last two assessments in a row, and I suspect it's on purpose, and I'm trying to decide how I want to handle that. I think I need some more information first, though, as to why this is happening. I might be that, for this student, the pressure isn't at a manageable level, it might be early onset senioritis, it might be something else entirely.

We'll see what happens tomorrow!

#teaching #teachblr #edublr #education #high school #teacher #social studies #day fifty eight

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Somebody I Kissed Once AU is my new "I don't want to do actual work so I'm gonna write about these fictional characters to trick my brain into feeling productive" project so have whatever the frick this is:

"Well, that didn't completely suck so I guess we're done for the day."

"Oh thank goodness."

Katherine giggled as Darcy dramatically fell back onto the bench and started gulping from her water bottle.

"If we had to run that skill one more time I think I would have actually died."

Perching elegantly on the edge of the bench (prim and proper as always) Katherine sipped her own water and nudged her friend's foot, "Thank the marching band then, the director's been giving Coach the look for at least ten minutes."

Sure enough, the second the cheer squad had cleared the field, dozens of band students began setting up the pit instruments and podiums. Katherine would be forever grateful that the band practiced on the same days as the cheer squad, they were usually the only thing preventing coach from keeping them an extra hour.

"You gonna watch them practice today?" Darcy asked, hardly glancing at the band for half a second. "Still don't get why you like it so much, all they do is run the same eight measures over and over for three hours."

"Yeah, and what do we do in practice?" She hoped Darcy would blame the red in her cheeks on the exertion from doing flips and basket tosses for two hours.

"Touché." Darcy seemed to accept the non-answer and stood with a stretch and a groan. "But is that a yes or a no, because I'm going home now if you want a ride."

She should say no, that would be the correct answer. She should go with Darcy, get an iced coffee on the way, and then study for the AP English test tomorrow.

She should say no.

"Yeah, I think I'll stick around for a little while."

Great job, Katherine.

"Alright," Darcy shrugged and began gathering her things. "Call me when you get home, yeah? I'm totally lost on that pre-cal worksheet."

Katherine's answer was cut off by a surprised squeal that drew both of their attention to the other bench about ten feet away.

"Al, stop it!" Race, one of the backspots and the best tumbler on the team, managed to gasp out between fits of giggles.

"You know what you have to do," Albert, his boyfriend, teased in a sing-song voice as he tickled him mercilessly.

"But we're both all sweaty and gross," Race whined.

"That didn't stop you last night when we were-"

"Okay, okay, fine!" If the boy's face wasn't already bright red, Katherine was sure he'd be blushing. Race was usually impossible to embarrass but if anyone knew how to get to him, it was Albert. "You're the worst, you know that?"

Albert shifted his hold on his boyfriend's waist so that they were facing each other, "Yeah, but you love me for it."

The other boy rolled his eyes and gave Abert a quick peck on the lips, "Damn right I do."

Sweet, light kisses quickly evolved (or devolved, she couldn’t decide) into just blatant PDA and Katherine was pretty sure they would both be walking into school with heavy makeup on their necks tomorrow morning.

"Uh, Kath?" Darcy's confused tone drew her attention. "You good?"

"Hm?" she tore her gaze away from the couple to look at her friend. A frustratingly jealous feeling had begun rising in her chest, and she shoved right back down with purpose. "Yeah, fine. They're so sweet, aren't they?"

The girl gave an exasperated sigh, "Yeah, sickly sweet enough to give me a cavity from over here. Where's Jack? You two should make out in front of them, that always makes Race gag."

Katherine forced a laugh, "Probably still in the weight room if Albert’s just now getting here. You do it, your boyfriend's probably around here somewhere."

"Yeah but Bill isn't Race's brother, it's just not the same," Darcy's smile suddenly got weirdly serious and her voice lowered so that only the two of them could hear. "Are you guys doing okay? You and Jack, I mean."

The accusation made Katherine's heart leap into her throat. Did Darcy know? Of course not, how could she know? Just be casual about it.

"Of course, why do you ask?" her voice was a little higher than usual, but hopefully Darcy wouldn't notice.

"Uh-huh," the slight quirk of her eyebrow made it very clear that Darcy noticed. "I'm not blind, Kath. C'mon, you tell me everything, what's up with you two?"

Maybe she should just tell her friend the truth.

"I'd really just rather be friends with him but I don't know how to say that without breaking his heart. Also, I made out with a girl right before the state championship game and I keep imagining her face whenever I kiss my boyfriend of two years."

Yeah no, that was not a conversation that she would be having at four o'clock on a Tuesday with the entire cheer squad, most of the band, and half of the senior football team milling around in the background.

"Oh you know, we're gonna graduate soon and we're probably going to different colleges. Haven't really talked about what we're going to do about... us... after the summer. " She added on quickly at Darcy's sympathetic look, "It's not really a big deal, honest! I'm not even going to worry about it until after prom and stuff."

Her friend did not look convinced and Katherine knew she'd only delayed the conversation for a few days, at the most. She just prayed that Darcy believed her story; it was technically true, she and Jack hadn't talked about their relationship after high school. Katherine hoped she could use the long-distance thing as a way to not completely shatter Jack's heart.

"Whatever you say. You sure you don't want a ride home?"

"I'm sure," Katherine slung her cheer bag over her shoulder and pulled out her English notes. "It's a nice day, gonna study outside for a bit."

Darcy finally left her after that and Katherine found a seat in the bleachers with a good view of the band. (especially the pit)

It wasn't that she didn't like Jack, of course she did! She wouldn't have dated him for two years if she didn't like him. She cared about him a lot and he was genuinely one of her best friends. It was just that she'd noticed she kept thinking about him like that, a best friend. Not a boyfriend. Every time they kissed it just felt off, like they were nothing more than scene partners in a play. At first, she had thought it was because Jack was her first serious relationship, or because they were already good friends before they started dating. But the feeling never went away and now Katherine never even kissed Jack unless he initiated it first or it felt like they were expected to. Like after the football team won the homecoming game or on their anniversary.

She didn't want to lose him as a friend, they’d seen each other through the lowest and highest moments of their lives. Plus he was just a really good guy, he didn't deserve to be hurt like that. But he also didn't deserve to be led on by someone who didn't really love him, especially not someone who had eyes for another person.

"If you guys jostle the vibraphone one more time, you're going to be running laps until you puke or die, whichever comes first."

Speak of the devil.

It had always seemed like way more trouble than it was worth to lug the giant xylophone-like instruments (pit instruments, she had learned from a very casual Google search) onto the field every day for practice. But Katherine was definitely not going to complain about having an easy (and not creepy) way to watch Sarah Jacobs in her element.

As if she could sense someone was thinking about her, Sarah glanced up into the bleachers and found Katherine instantly. The girl smirked knowingly and gave her a small nod, so subtle that the only ones who noticed were Katherine and the swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

She ducked down and buried her nose in her English notebook, hoping the blush on her cheeks wasn’t obvious from a distance.

This was fine. This was totally fine. There were only two more months until graduation and then she would have an easy excuse to break up with Jack without hurting her best friend. Just two more months until she would look at Sarah Jacobs for the last time. Just two more months until she could start looking towards the future, towards college, where she wouldn’t be constantly suffocated by the small town where everyone knew her name.

She could wait two months.

“Guys, if I see one more sword fight with the mallets, so help me I will make out with each and every one of your mothers, do not test me.”

Probably.

This got way too long way too fast but here.

#gonna be honest i have no idea how football cheer and band seasons work #but we're gonna pretend they all have a reason to still be practicing in the spring #i'm 90% sure there's football stuff during the summer so there's your explanation for jack and albert #and band never rests #newsies #newsies fanfiction #newsies live #livesies #92sies #katherine plumber #sarah jacobs #katherine plumber x sarah jacobs #newsbians #added some ralbert in there too #cause rae got to *the chapter* in the wrong number fic #and i felt bad for unaliving her comfort character #somebody i kissed once au #saf writes

[hetacon]

Prom Queen: Chapter 2

First || Previous || Next

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Word Count: 1,900

Pairings: Endgame Prinxiety, Platonic LAMP, more could be included at a later point

Warning: Swearing, food mentions (Let me know if I missed anything, this one seemed fairly tame!)

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Summary: He missed Roman. High school had been, in the grand scheme of things, largely without his best friend.

(Make sure to read the notes at the end if you want to hear my thoughts on the chapter! As always, feel free to let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this story or just my art and writing ones in general! Enjoy!)

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High school wasn’t great but it certainly didn’t seem to be terrible either. That’s what Virgil was gathering from the whole experience anyways. It definitely didn’t hold as much of the awkwardness in terms of trying to find himself and who he was as a person like middle school had brought about.

But still, there were still a fair share of complications. Roman’s popularity throughout the years had started to become one of them.

Neither of them had honestly expected it really. Theater put Roman in the spotlight, both literally and figuratively, that was where part of his newfound popularity came from. With that little bit of exposure, people started to take notice of him.

First it had been Roman running late to English a few times when they started out freshman year.

That expanded to Roman joining some clubs Virgil was content to stay out of for a couple days in the week.

More interaction with more people meant Roman got to talking with some interesting people from student council through his Model UN club meetings, including a familiar face from theater serving as their stage manager in the upcoming fall production.

“Hey guys, there’s someone I’d like you to meet!” Roman said excitedly as he dragged along a guy that looked around their grade, firm hands on his shoulders. Roman beamed as Virgil and Patton looked up from Virgil’s phone. “This is Logan!”

Patton smiled at Logan and held out a hand. “Patton Hart, it’s nice to meet you Logan!”

At the sight of Patton’s hand reached out to him, Virgil noticed Logan visibly relax, reaching out to shake Patton’s.

“Hello Patton,” Logan merely said with a nod.

“And of course, Logan, I’ve told you about my best friend Virgil,” Roman’s voice cut through, Virgil’s gaze flickering over to the impossibly widening grin on Roman’s face at that little detail.

Logan nodded once more. “Ah yes, Roman talks about you often.”

“Nothing but bad things I assume?” Virgil snorted, smirking at Roman’s mock gasp of offense.

“No, he speaks rather highly of you, Virgil. Oftentimes it gets in the way of things such as letting him running lines and letting me work on my own work for his play,” Logan commented, giving Roman a pointed look towards the latter half of his statement.

“A boy can’t talk about his best friend? Harsh, Specs!”

Patton laughed at the two of them bickering. “So how’d you and Logan meet?”

“Model UN, he’s done a much better job than I have! He’s trying to show me the ropes but he’s definitely much smarter than me at it!” Roman said with a chuckle, sitting down with Logan doing so as well.

“He says that but he isn’t doing too poorly, honestly Roman,” Logan sighed.

“Yeah yeah, but not as good as you. Now hush and let me tell them my story!”

Roman considered joining student council by the end of freshman year but decided theater was already a large commitment.

Sophomore year rolled around before Virgil knew it and Roman was cast as the lead role for the fall production as well as getting on the sophomore homecoming court.

Homecoming carnival was fairly nice as Roman practically dragged him and Logan along. Virgil didn’t have half a bad time though he admittedly just stayed by Patton who was working at one of his club booths. Roman was surrounded by too many people at one point for Virgil to really want to follow him anyways.

Spring semester of sophomore year was pretty uneventful aside from Roman somehow getting even more popular. Virgil could barely get a word of conversation in with him after their school’s spring production of Beauty and the Beast, despite him going to nearly every night of the show’s run. Patton was good company during one of the nights though and the two went out for milkshakes afterwards.

“Virgil! Gosh, I really don’t need you seeing me cry,” Roman laughed as he scooped Virgil up in a tight hug before pulling away. “You didn’t have to come for closing night!”

“I wanted to, you know?” Virgil asked. “Also holy shit are you hot.”

“Oh trust me, I know! My sheer beauty is truly a thing to behold!” Roman teased, only for Virgil to shove him with a snort.

“Congratulations Roman, you did a great job!” one of their classmates said in passing.

“Thank you Cissy!” Roman called after her with a proud grin on his face.

“No, you know what I mean, you must be dying under the lights,” Virgil chuckled.

“Oh, that-!”

“Roman, you did amazing, look at you!” another person said, coming over to give Roman a hug.

“Thank you, and thank you for coming!” Roman replied.

“How could I not? You did great!” the woman said. “Hey, have you seen Chloe around? I’ve been trying to find the poor girl for ages, she might’ve been swamped.”

“I think she might’ve gone to go change, I think she’ll be out soon!”

Virgil zoned out a little as Roman continued to make conversation for a little longer.

“Ro, you down for going to get ice cream after you free yourself from your wire prison?” Virgil asked once he thought Roman’s attention was finally back on him but a hand was clapped on to Roman’s back.

“Hey dude, awesome job, how’d your voice hold up?” one of the other actors, Justin if Virgil remembered correctly, asked.

“My throat is honestly totally killing me, I can’t wait to drink my weight in tea when I get home,” Roman laughed, wincing for emphasis.

“I feel you, I think I’m going to head home after I change,” Justin said, running a hand through his hair and fixing his glasses. “You planning on going out with the rest of the cast afterwards?”

“Nah, Virgil and I are going to get ice cream and then I am going to sleep like there’s no tomorrow!”

“Fair, fair, I’ll see you on Monday!”

By the time that Roman was finally free, a dozen people had asked Roman for picture and Virgil, with a quick text, told him that his mom had to pick him up unexpectedly.

Logan started to hang out with Virgil and Patton during lunch by the time junior year came by, only skipping a portion of Wednesdays in order to go to student council meetings.

By this point in their time in high school, lots of changes happened but some things still stayed pretty consistent. Roman decided against auditioning for the fall play but still seemed to remain as busy as ever with the theater competitions he was now taking part in, fitting in clubs in seemingly any place possible. Logan had become the junior year president for student council, still taking part in Model UN and a few AP classes definitely keeping him busy. Patton had been the one to change the least aside from Virgil himself. Virgil was happy that both he and Patton were both taking AP studio art. Apart from that, the two of them just focused on trying to stay sane.

Prom came up during their junior year as a topic of discussion (seeing as only the juniors and seniors could go on their own) and the four of them decided to go together as a group. It was a disaster in Virgil’s opinion and he had to leave early when Roman was asked for a dance by one of the popular girls in their grade. He felt sick to think about it.

Virgil stared up at the ceiling for a while the night of prom after he’d gotten back home, trying to figure out what was even happening at this point. A girl had asked for a dance, Roman accepted.

Except suddenly, Virgil remembered just how many times Roman had arrived late to lunch, how many times he’d sat down only to realize he’d had club meetings, how many times Roman would be preoccupied with rehearsals and homework and conversations in the halls before English. The study sessions at Roman’s house had become minimal and Virgil’s interactions with Roman’s brother Remus were more frequent than the interactions with Roman himself.

He missed Roman. High school had been, in the grand scheme of things, largely without his best friend. It still didn’t feel right, like he was missing something with the realization he’d come to.

As soon as he thought of Roman asking him to dance and kissing him though, he knew.

Virgil cried for a while that night.

Suddenly after prom, Roman dropped most of his clubs.

“Why’d you stop going?” Patton asked during their current conversation, taking out his lunch. He offered Virgil a cookie who took it reluctantly.

“Eh, I don’t know, I’ve just been so busy you know? Wanted to see if it helped,” Roman offered as explanation, shrugging. “Oh hey Logan, did you finish studying for our APUSH test today?” he added as the aforementioned took a seat at the table, finished with his student council meeting.

Logan nodded and wordlessly handed his notes to Roman with a roll of his eyes. “I knew you were going to ask.”

“You know me well Specs! I swear, he’s really going nuts with AP test prep, huh?” Roman asked, flipping through the neatly written notes.

“Teachers tend to overprepare us for AP tests, I promise it’s worth it.”

Patton sighed and turned to Virgil, letting the other two talk over their test next period. “Hey Virge, do you want to come over to my house today? I got some new paints I wanted to try out but I’ve been waiting for you to come over,” Patton tried, smiling hopefully at him.

He really didn’t have anything better to do that afternoon so he nodded. “Yeah, sure, do you want me to bring anything?”

Patton shook his head. “Nope, just yourself!”

Virgil nodded.

Summer came around and Virgil started to spend less time with Roman. His family had dragged him on more than one trip so luckily he had a good excuse. Roman certainly didn’t seem very available either so it wasn’t exactly hard for their schedules to conflict.

With a week until senior year started, Virgil went to help Patton walk his dog.

“Hey Pat..?”

“Hm?” Patton asked, looking to him with a smile.

“What would you think if I wanted to... I dunno, change my style I guess?” Virgil asked, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater.

“Hmm... Well, what are you thinking about? Like, just a little change? Starting from scratch?” was Patton’s response. “Not for any reason, I’m still supportive no matter what you want to do!”

Virgil thought on it as they continued walking. “I don’t really know yet, I just know I want to change it I guess?”

Patton nodded. “Well I say do it! You can always change it back!”

With that, they moved on to other subjects. Patton was excited about school while Virgil ruminated on Patton’s questions.

The day before senior year started, Virgil knew what he was planning on, staring at the hair dye in his hands.

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Hey hey hey, we are finally going to be getting into the actual conflict! Gosh, I’ve been waiting for the chance to do so, the next chapter will definitely be interesting!

I will say I had a bit of trouble with this one. The last chapter starts off with the first day of freshman year but I just felt it was a good way to set up the dynamic. I wanted the story to be set in either junior or senior year though mainly due to the maturity level at that point. It feels more comfortable and lets me have more room with what’s to come! I tried to get there without just saying “Look, here’s a time skip, wow!” I really hope I did it well, it feels a little clunky!

I hope you guys liked this chapter and as always, feel free to chat with me in the comments! I love hearing your guys’ opinions!

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Taglist: @artissijules, @virgils-paranoia, @its-the-cat-queen, @myyoutubecorner, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog, @tssidesfamily, @shapa-likes-art, @isabelle-stars, @falsemood, @prinxiety-shipper101, @katlikethesword

#sanders sides #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #multi chapter #prom queen #stan writing

[onetwosevensquad]

Dungeons and Dragons and... Love?: Dungeon Master

Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: the kind Dungeon Master who helps guide your team through your campaign also becomes your math tutor.

Warnings: none??

Rose: sorry this literally took forever to write. Hope your all still interested in this mini series. Next member is Renjun.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

———

Why were you here again?

Oh right, cause you’re a giant nerd who needs an outlet.

The poster had caught your eye when you were headed to lunch one day. It was a beige poster with a 20 sided dice in the middle. That was what got your attention.

You had played Dungeons and Dragons with some of your friends before. It has been a few months since your last campaign and you didn’t know when the next one would start. So, in fear of not being able to escape to a fantasy world, you decided to check it out.

It was now 3:45 in the afternoon. School had ended 15 minutes ago, the hours ticking by slowly. You now stood outside of the AP Government classroom where Mr. Jung taught.

The poster, you remembered, said that Mr. Jung would oversee the club. He was your favorite teacher because he was funny and the class was enjoyable.

Finally, you slowly opened the door to the classroom and stepped in. In the middle of the room, a few desks had been pushed together to create a large table.

Sitting around the table were seven boys who were all staring at you. You awkwardly shifted your weight from one foot to the other, waiting for literally anyone to say something.

“Is this the d&d club?” You finally spoke.

“Y-yes,” the only boy who was standing said. You recognized him as Mark Lee. The cute, smart boy from calculus. “Yes, uh, grab a seat.”

You nodded and dragged a chair over to the only empty spot at the table. It was right next to Chenle, the loud basketball player you shared chemistry with.

“Well I’m pretty sure that we all know each other,” Mark said clearing his throat. “I’m not gonna make us do ice breakers cause literally no one likes those.”

“I do!” Haechan, the class clown that you also shared chemistry with.

“Only you,” Jeno, the star basketball player and probably the last person you expected here, commented. Haechan pouted and stuck his tongue out at Jeno.

“Anyway,” Mark said. “It’s my fist time DMing, but I have played before. Just so I know, who here has played before?”

You, along with Jisung, the quiet kid from history, Haechan, and Renjun, the kid from math who doesn’t do math but draws, raised your hands. Mark seemed to relax a bit when he saw there were at least a few experienced players.

“Well I guess this first meeting will be going over rules and how to play, then next time we’ll do character sheets,” Mark said.

———

It was now the third session and the first one of the start of you campaign. Last time, everyone made their characters, the atmosphere becoming less tense as time went on.

You made your character an Elf Wizard, something you’ve never played before. Everyone else had their own unique character combos, having fun coming up with the most ridiculous names for them.

Today, the party was slightly buzzing with excitement to finally start their campaign. You all gathered around the table giving character introductions, ready to get this show on the road.

Three hours, several rolls for initiative, and Haechan’s character almost dying later, Mr. Jung had to finally kick you all out of the building. The sun had already set and he was letting you way past what was allowed.

You realized how late it actually was and scrambled to get your stuff. You said a quick goodbye to the boys and Mr. Jung and sped off to get home before your parents killed you.

You get a ways down the hall when you heard someone running behind you.

“Y/n, wait up!” You turned to see Mark jogging to catch up with you. He stopped in front of you, breathing slightly harder. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said back, smiling at the cute boy. You’ve never really had a full conversation with Mark. He’s quiet and, honestly, talking to someone attractive was a bit out of the realm of your comfort zone.

“C-can I have your number?” He said. Your eyes went wide and as did his when he realized what that sounded like. “So that I can add you to the group chat! Just in case anyone can’t make it or we cancel.”

“Yea, sure,” you said, slightly disappointed. You heard Mark exhale probably in relief that his save worked. You handed him your phone with your number displayed on the screen and he quickly put it in his.

“Thanks,” Mark said, handing you back your phone. You both stood there in the most suffocatingly awkward silence ever.

“Well bye,” you said turning to leave.

“Oh! Yea, uh, bye,” Mark said waving slightly. He turned back towards Mr. Jung’s room and you saw the other six boys crowded around. They were all giggling as Mark shoved that back into the room.

———

Six sessions and three weeks later, any morsel of awkwardness was gone. It was like you have known these seven boys your whole life.

The group chat blew up your phone with memes from that days session but didn’t you mind? No. Though sometimes at ungodly hours in the mornings, you still enjoyed the content.

On this particular day, you weren’t going to be able to join the session. Your calculus teacher was making you stay after school and retake a test that you failed miserably. You felt bad when you hand to text the group.

You: I can’t make it today

Haechan☀️: whyyyyyyy

You: I failed a calc test

You: I have to retake it

Lele🐬: thats stupid

Sungie: good luck Y/n

Injunie: yea gl

You: thanks boys

Marker: hey if you need any help studying for calc, I’d be happy to

jeNO: oh?

You: yea I’d like that, thanks

Minnie: ann I oop-

You laughed at Jaemin’s comment as you made your way to your calculus teachers classroom.

———

Considering the second time you took the test you barely past by the seat of your pants, you took Mark up on his offer to tutor you.

Today was the first day Mark was going to tutor you in the library. You walked in and saw him already set up at one of the tables in the very back.

“Hey,” you whispered. He smiled at you as you sat down next to him.

“Hey,” he said back. “Ready to get started?”

After about an hour and a half of Mark explaining different theorems to you, you were finally starting to get it. Whenever you asked a question, Mark would take the time to explain it to you carefully, making sure you got it along the way.

When he would give you a problem to solve, and you got it right, both of you would get excited, annoying the librarian. She ended up shushing you more than once.

“Hey, you hungry?” Mark asked.

“Not really,” you said. As if on cue, your stomach slightly growled, making Mark laugh. You looked down at your stomach, a pout on your face. “Traitor.”

“Come on,” Mark said between giggles. “Let’s get something to eat.”

You got your things and headed out of the library with Mark to get food.

———

For the next three weeks, this became your tradition. On the days the D&D club wasn’t meeting, you and Mark would study calculus in the library for about two hours, and then go get food. It always felt like a lot less time with Mark, him always making it enjoyable.

Today, you had a study session with Mark. As you neared the library, you noticed him standing outside the doors on his phone.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“I know,” Mark said putting his phone away. “But you need a break.”

“Mark-“ you whined.

“No,” he said. “I think that you’re ready. You’ve made a lot of progress over the last couple weeks. Besides, they say you shouldn’t study the night before a test.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” you said crossing your arms.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Mark said waving it off. “But, I do know that you’ve worked hard and whatever grade you get, I’m proud of you.”

You could feel your cheeks heating up at Mark’s words. You bit back a smile as he continued.

“So tonight we are not studying,” Mark said grabbing your hand and leading you away from the library. “We are going to the basketball game with the others to cheer on Chenle and Jeno.”

You didn’t protest as Mark led you down to the packed gym and over to where the rest of the boys were sat, waiting for the game to start.

———

After the game where your boys won, the party went out for dinner. Afterwards, Mark drove you home, the two of you talking about the game, D&D, or literally anything.

When Mark pulled into your driveway, he insisted on walking you to your steps. He said it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

“Hey,” Mark said when you got to your front door. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Tell me how it goes, ok?” He said. You nodded giving him a smile that he returned. “Good night.”

“Night,” you called after him as he went to his car.

———

At the end of the day, your calculus teacher had finished grading the tests. She told everyone to come pick them up before they left school.

When she handed your test to you, she had a big smile on her face. She made a comment about how nicely you did and how much you improved. When you finally saw the grade, you nearly passed out.

You practically ran to Mr. Jung’s room. D&D was today and you wanted to show Mark you grade. You arrived at his classroom, bouncing into the room.

“Well someone looks happy,” Jaemin commented.

“Did something mean happen?” Jisung asked. You stuck your tongue out at the younger boy making everyone laugh.

You made you way to Mark at the head of the table, him watching you with a smile. When you reached him, you slapped the paper with a big 90% scribbled at the top down in front of him.

“All thanks to you,” you said as he continued to stare at the paper.

“I told you so,” Mark said standing up. He caught you by surprise when he gave you a hug. “I’m proud of you.”

“Ugh, just date already,” Haechan commented from his chair. You and Mark pulled apart making a face at the boy, but avoiding each other’s eyes.

It’s not that you were entirely opposed to dating Mark. You just didn’t know if he felt the same way. And he didn’t. Right?

———

You and Mark continued your study sessions even after you proved you didn’t need to. You both agreed that it was to benefit both of you and not just an excuse to hang out.

One day, while walking out of calculus with Renjun, the boy made a comment that rocked your world.

“He likes you, ya know,” Renjun said.

“W-what,” you sputtered turning to him.

“Mark, he likes you,” He clarified. “I know like bro code, I’m not supposed to tell you or whatever, but I see the way you two look at each other. We all do. You should ask him out. He’d say yes.”

You stopped dead in your tracks thinking for a second. On one hand, this plan that you were formulating could embarrass you. On the other, you could get a date with your dungeon master / calculus tutor / crush.

“Y/n?” Renjun said turning to you. You quickly turned on your heel and made a mad dash for Mark’s locker. “Y/n!”

———

As you speed walked to Mark, you saw him in the distance talking to Jeno and Jaemin. Mark spotted you coming to him and waved at you.

“Hey, Y/n what’s-“

“Do you want to go an a date with me?” You said quickly.

“W-what?” Mark said.

“Jeno, I think that’s our cue,” Jaemin said dragging Jeno away.

“Do you want to go in a date with me?” You asked again, slower this time. Mark looked at you wide eyed, like a dear in headlights.

“A-a date?” He asked. You nodded, not trusting your voice not to shake. “Wow.”

“Wow?” You asked.

“Sorry! Sorry, I just never thought you’d ask and I’d have to do it,” Mark said. “But yes, I’d love to go on a date.”

“Oh thank god,” you said leaning against the lockers. Mark laughed at your dramatic reaction. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and turned you around to walk to lunch. As you turned, you and Mark stopped and saw the six other members of your party standing there amused.

“God, finally,” Haechan said.

“Took you long enough,” Chenle said.

As the eight of you walked to lunch, the boys continued to tease you and Mark. But when you looked up at him with his arm still around your shoulder, the teasing didn’t matter when Mark smiled at you.

———

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct #nct 127 #nct aus #nct au #nct x you #nct x reader #nct mark lee #nct mark #mark lee x you #mark lee x reader #mark x you #mark x reader #nct mark x reader #nct mark lee x reader #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark imagines #mark scenarios #nct mark imagines #nct mark scenarios #mark lee #mark #nct dream #nct u

[gerberbabey]

debut | one | pope heyward w/ filipina!reader

the idea of the pogues in a high school setting is actual so fun so i kinda got carried away. i rlly hav a thing for writing the character pining for the reader rather than the other way around.

im basing this off of how my high school was cus idk shit about any other high schools lmao. also excuse volleyball terminology, i also very much miss volleyball

masterlist | previous | next

warnings: cursing, like terrible writing, just filler stuff

one - ♫ I THINK by Tyler, The Creator ♫

It was already two weeks into your senior year and you were settling in nicely. At two weeks people were still switching around their classes making sure they wouldn’t regret the class they decided to settle into. You were satisfied with your schedule considering you only had 3 actual academic classes. 

For your last year you’d opted out of taking one least year of math or another year of science. You were a good student sure but you’d never been the best at maths or sciences. To the Pogues’ surprise Pope had a similar schedule, yet the only reason he wasn’t packed with AP classes was because he was signed up for dual enrollment with online college courses. 

“Dual enrollment helps clear GEs better than AP classes. I’m not saying I wouldn’t pass those AP tests but this way is easier,” Pope explained to JJ as they walked through the crowded halls of Kildare County High. Kooks and Pogues alike littered the hallways, separated in their own little groups and yet standing amongst one another. 

“Whatever you say Pope,” JJ shook his head. He and Pope had one class together this year and that was Intro to Drawing in the very beginning of the day.  

“Heeeey guys,” Kie greeted as she walked up to them, hiking her bag up her shoulder. Kie had opted out of a backpack this last year and had instead started using a tote bag which was only filled with her laptop, a single notebook, her pencil case, and other small personal belongings that had nothing to do with school. 

“You guys going to the game on Friday?” Kie questioned and Pope cringed as JJ groaned. 

“No Kie, we are not going to the football game this Friday-”

“Guys come one, first game of the season! Plus the environmental club is planning to work snack bar. All the money goes toward the Turtle Habitats and the Save the Ocean Foundation,” Kie plead. 

“As much as I love the turtles Kie,” the group stopped at Pope’s locker, “Our football team is garbage. Why would I subject myself to that?” 

“Ok I know that, but don’t go for the team,” Kie raised her eyebrows at the two of them, “Go for the turtles!” 

JJ shot her an “eeeh” sort of look and Kie huffed in annoyance. 

“Come on, if you could give me a whole other way to fundraise then please do,” Kie crossed her arms as Pope shuffled around the belongings in his locker. 

“You need help fundraising Kie?” 

The three teens turned in the direction of your voice and you grinned as you walked up to them, your teammate and other best friend Isabelle walking with you. Isabelle was tall, one of the tallest girls at school actually, and though they saw you two together frequently it was still kind of amusing to see one of the tallest people they new walking around with one of the shortest people they knew. 

“Yeah well, my club’s planning to do the football game snack bar but nobody goes to the game’s anyway so,” Kie shrugged. 

“You could fundraise at the volleyball game,” Isabelle suggested giving Kie a smile. Kie smiled back sheepishly as she shifted on her spot. 

“Are you serious?” she questioned, turning to you and you shrugged. 

“Well, why not? Wouldn’t hurt to ask our coach,” you stated and Kie watched as Pope closed his locker and turned as your hands reached up to fix the collar of the button up he’d worn over his t-shirt. 

“We have a game tomorrow, and then there’s a workshop on Saturday. If your club wants to try and fundraise during those, we can try and figure something out,” Isabelle spoke to Kie and Kie flushed for a moment before she nodded frantically and began talking over a few ideas that were already coming to mind. 

“And people are guaranteed to show up to the girls volleyball games,” JJ wiggled his eyebrows at you and Pope and you laughed as Pope reached up to whack JJ in the chest. You couldn’t help but note how weird JJ looked without one of his usual hats on. You figured it was because the teachers lost their minds over hats being worn inside the building. 

“So (Y/N),” Pope started and you and JJ looked at him. 

“So Pope?” you smiled and missed how JJ glanced between the two of you with a knowing look in his eye. 

“Am I gonna see your dress anytime soon?” Pope questioned and you rolled your eyes. 

“Pope I literally already told you that no one’s allowed to see it until my party,” you leaned against Pope as he shook his head.

“But I’m not just anyone,” he insisted and you laughed as the first bell of the day rang overhead. 

“Ok whatever dude,” you shoved at Pope and he playfully slapped at your arms, “Me and Isa have to go, I’ll see you guys later,” you bid and you gave Pope a hug and a kiss on the cheek before you waved goodbye to JJ and Kie. The three of them watched you two join the sea of students and JJ turned to Kie and Pope.

“Was I seriously just fifth wheeling?” he scoffed and Pope glared at him as Kie flushed at his insinuation. 

__________

“Ok can I just get like...the color? Oh my-you never even told me the color!” Pope stared at you with wide eyes and you shook your head as you covered your mouth to try and keep your laugh from coming out. The two of you were in your second to last class of the day (You were both TA’s for the Intro to Film teacher and that usually meant goofing around in the back as the class watched movies all day), and Pope had not let the topic of your dress drop. 

In fact he had asked you about it for the past three weeks. 

“I can’t ruin it,” you whined and Pope leaned forward and groaned into your shoulder. 

“Telling me the color won’t ruin it,” he mumbled and you reached up to rub his back. 

“Yes it will,” you whispered back playfully and Pope groaned again as you laughed, “Oh by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you...” 

Pope sat up and motioned for you to continue. 

“I don’t need to have an escort or anything, but I was actually wondering if you’d like to be my escort? For my party?” you weren’t sure why you were so nervous but you couldn’t get yourself to look Pope in the eye. You watched as your fingers played with the end of his shirt. 

“(Y/N).”

You looked up at Pope through your lashes and he flashed you a wide grin. 

“I would literally be honored,” Pope pulled you into a tight hug before pulling back, “Also I would’ve been extremely offended if you didn’t ask me and I probably would’ve just been your escort anyway.” 

You laughed and quickly brought a hand up to cover it up as a few of the students in the room shot the two of you looks. 

“I wouldn’t even go through with the party without you,” you told him softly and Pope could feel his heart skip a beat. Sometimes he wondered what it would’ve been like if he had gathered up the courage to ask you out ages ago. Despite the bullshit he told his friends he knew that he was in love with you. He would always love you, but being in love with you was different. It meant so much more. 

“So that means I get to know the color of your dress right?” Pope whispered and your mouth dropped open in shock as a wide grin stretched across his face. You tried to stop yourself from smiling as you reached up to whack him on the shoulder. 

“No!” you whisper-yelled. 

“But how am I gonna coordinate with you-” 

“Drop it Pope,” you laughed as the bell rang to indicate the end of class. 

________

“Where’s Kie?” John B questioned as JJ and Pope walked up to him. Today was the first girl’s volleyball game of the year and they had planned on going to watch together. They only really did it out of support toward you but that obviously didn’t stop JJ from his usual flirting. 

“Her club’s doing snack bar or something, to help fundraise for turtles. Did she not tell you?” Pope asked as they walked into the gym together. There was music playing through the gym’s speakers and there was chatter and noise from every point. There was the sound of shoes squeaking against the gym floor and the sounds of volleyballs coming into contact with the floor, hands, the walls, etc. 

“Nah, I didn’t see her that much yesterday or even today.” 

“Yeah, where the hell were you anyway?” JJ questioned as he led the way up the bleachers. It was definitely crowded but the boys weren’t at all surprised, Kildare County High’s volleyball team was actually good, meaning they usually garnered a large audience of spectators. 

“I was at the counselor’s like all day trying to figure out how I’m gonna get enough credits to graduate,” John B sighed and JJ and Pope cringed. After John B’s dad disappeared in their sophomore year, the boy had taken a half a step back from his academic responsibilities to try and keep himself together and afloat. Then after Big John’s body was found at the beginning of their Junior year, John B had considered dropping out entirely. He missed a majority of that school year as a result of his grief, deciding that he felt there was no point for school any longer.

Yet with the surprising help of Sheriff Peterkin he had pushed himself back into finishing school. The school understood of course, but that didn’t mean it didn’t take a toll on his academic record. 

“I’m sure it’ll work out in the end,” Pope encouraged and JJ nodded, before the blonde clapped and looked around, eager to get John B’s mind off the matter. 

“Oh shit look there’s Quincy,” JJ pointed out and the trio made their way over the where a large group of other Pogues who had gathered up on one side of the bleachers. While some schools may have had senior sections or something of the like, their gym was separated by Kooks, Pogues, parents, and then any visitors from the opposing school. 

“Hey JJ what’s up man?” 

JJ dapped up Quincy and the two of them began talking about something or another as John B and Pope were greeted by the people around them. 

“Yeah (Y/N)!!” someone near them yelled, “You dig those balls!” 

The three boys turned to the court and watched as you shook your head and laughed but kept your focus on the court. You squatted down low once more and they watched as you warmed up, passing dimes for your setter to set. 

“Woooh (Y/N)!” JJ’s hands were cupped around his mouth as he yelled.

“Yeeeahhh!” John B yelled and was followed up by the student section of their gym, Pogues and Kooks alike, cheering for their team despite it only being in warm ups. 

Soon enough people had settled into the bleachers as the Varsity game came to a start. (Pope, JJ, and John B had yelled their hearts out at your introduction - “Number 10, Libero: (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!”. And JJ had pointed out where Kie was bustling over at the snack bar, charming people into buying whatever she pointed out to them). 

“Oh shit hey, I’m gonna go say hi to (Y/N)’s parents. I totally forgot,” Pope told his friends and the two nodded, waving him off. Pope mumbled “excuse me’s” as he maneuvered his way by people’s legs and tried not to knee anybody in the back of the head. He jogged down the steps of the bleacher and made his way to where the parents were all situated, watching the game intently. There was a bout of cheering and Pope glanced over to the court to watch you jump up in excitement as your team scored another point. 

“Hey Pope!” Pope looked up at that and smiled as your mom waved him over to where she was sitting with your dad.

“Hi!” he greeted, and leaned over as your mom stretched her arms up to give him a hug in greeting. 

“Your parents not here tonight?” your dad questioned and Pope shook his head. 

“Nah they couldn’t leave the store. They really wanted to come though. (Y/N)’s last first game and all.” 

“Ah well that’s alright, plenty of games after this one.” 

“Of course. Uh Mrs. (Y/L/N) how’s the party planning?” your mom rolled her eyes though he could tell there was no ill intent. 

“Stressful. All (Y/N) focused on was her dress and her guest list. Finding a place to even have the party was almost impossible,” your mom explained and Pope chuckled. 

“(Y/N) won’t even let me know what the dress looks like,” Pope told them and your mom laughed as your dad nodded. 

“She’s hid it from her dad too.”

“Won’t be able to see it ‘till the party,” your dad shook his head at that as Pope let out a surprised chuckle. 

“You ate that (Y/N)!” someone yelled and Pope and your parents glanced over at the game and watched you get picked up by Isabelle as your team cheered over winning the first set of the match. 

“Well I’m gonna head back to my friends,” Pope pointed over to where John B and JJ were sitting, now with the addition of Kie. 

“Of course, of course. We’ll be seeing you at our house later?” your mom teased and Pope shrugged as he laughed. 

He waved your parents goodbye and by the time he’d gotten back to his friends Kildare was already ahead in the second set. 

“Not working anymore Kie?” Pope questioned as he took a seat beside her leaving her between him and JJ. 

“Yeah we made shifts so it’s Marco’s turn,” Kie explained pointing over to the snack bar. 

“Was our volleyball team always this good?” JJ questioned and Pope scoffed. 

“Yeah you were just too busy staring at their asses to watch them play,” he reached around Kie to shove at the blonde and JJ batted his arms away. 

“Hey, you can’t exactly blame me!” 

“Gross JJ,” Kie rolled her eyes and the boy looked at Kie with an offended look before turning to John B as if to say, ‘are you hearing this?’. John B only shook his head at his best friend. The 3 Pogues chuckled at JJ’s expense before they turned back to the game. It was your turn to serve now and as you waited for the referee to blow his whistle John B reached up and cupped his hands around his mouth. 

“Do it for Pope, (Y/N)!!” 

Pope whipped his head over to John B as the students around them “oooh’d!” some of them shoving at Pope playfully. From the court he missed how you glanced up at where they were sitting, a grin on your face as the referee finally blew the whistle to let you serve. 

“Shut up John B!” Pope hissed and the brunette only laughed it off as Kie mentioned how Pope should’ve been used to this by now and JJ yelled. 

“For Poooope!!!!” JJ yelled as you served the ball. 

The Kildare supporters all cheered as you aced your serve and Pope flushed in embarrassment as you turned and pointed to him, riling up the crowd of students as those closest to him shoved at him once more. 

“Yes King!” someone yelled at Pope and he couldn’t help but grin as he pointed back at you. 

#Outer Banks #outer banks fic #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #pope x reader #pope heyward #pope heyward x reader #poc!reader #filipina!reader #obx #obx fic #obx fanfiction #the pogues have a normal high school life au

[artificialqueens]

The mistakes we're going to make (Jan/Jackie) - Meggie

A/N: Hey all! I had the pleasure of writing this little gem for Molly for our gc’s gift exchange. I really enjoy writing this dynamic, and I hope you all enjoy it too! Thank you to Mac, Mia, and Alex for prereading for me. Y'all are the real MVPs.

Summary: when i look at you, all i can see are the mistakes we’re going to make (the future’s so bright)

They’re graduating high school tomorrow night, but all Jan can think about is her calculus final and whether or not she can scrape by with an A.

She’s done the calculations approximately 47 times (and had Jackie check them over nine more because Jan’s shit at math now apparently), and she knows she has to make an 82 on the final to pull an A in the class. And that will get her an 89.5 which rounds to an A. She’d rather not cut it that close, thank you very much.

To anyone else, a B would not be the end of the world, but it would be Jan’s only B. Ever. To get out of high school with a perfect GPA, an unblemished transcript, a perfect record… That’s been her goal ever since she graced the hallways of R.P. Charles High School three years ago.

So after finishing Ms. West’s history final, she pulls out her calc book and dutifully studies her notes. They’re meticulous, her rounded penmanship in stark black ink. She purses her lips and wonders if she has enough time to redo them in colored ink according to her color-coding system.

Behind her, Brita mutters to herself and furiously erases a sentence in her essay. Written responses have always been her downfall. To Jan’s right, Gigi takes a mirror out of her purse and retouches her lipstick.

“Why are you studying?” Gigi whispers. “You literally just finished a test, and it’s a half day. We’re done after this.”

“Yeah, but my calc test is tomorrow, and Ms. Hytes is not as lenient a grader as Ms. West.” Jan sighs and runs a hand through her hair.

Gigi pulls a face. “God, why’d you even take calc? You didn’t need the credit.” Gigi had taken personal health instead of a math class. She said their final was about sexually transmitted infections, which apparently is the new name for sexually transmitted diseases.

Jan shrugs. “I wanted to be—”

“—valedictorian, yeah, I know,” Gigi finishes. “Well, anyway. That didn’t work out the way you planned, did it?”

At the front of the room, Ms. West clears her throat and widens her eyes at the girls. Gigi sits back in her desk and primly folds her hands. Jan is free to once again study her notes, but Gigi’s last words still sting.

She had only taken calculus because it was an AP class, guaranteed to get her extra GPA points she would need to wrap up the valedictory. What she hadn’t counted on was being terrible at calculus.

Sure, geometry hadn’t been a walk in the park, but trig had been a piece of cake. So she figured that with a little bit of extra studying, she could carve out an A and stake her claim on the title of valedictorian, something she’d wanted ever since she had learned what the valedictorian was. (Kindergarten. When her parents had taken her to see her cousin graduate. And the pretty girl at the front had gotten up to make a speech in front of all her classmates, and everyone had to pay attention to her for a whole ten minutes while she talked about things that were important to her. Jan wanted that.)

But in March after third quarter grades were calculated and the honors had been announced, she’d ended up salutatorian, literally two hundredths of a point behind Jackie Cox. It had been a two-man race between her and Jackie all throughout high school, but the difference had been that damn calculus class. Jackie had an A; Jan had a B.

Jan’s parents had doted on her just the same as they would have if she’d been valedictorian, taking her to dinner at her favorite restaurant, celebrating with cake and sparkling grape juice out of the champagne flutes usually reserved for New Year’s Eve, but Jan couldn’t help but sense a little tinge of disappointment behind their smiles. Close, but no cigar. She’d still give a speech, but it would be shorter, and no one really cared what the salutatorian had to say. She’d worked so hard for four years to achieve the top honor and now she had to stand back and watch someone else deliver her valedictory.

Even if that someone was her very close friend.

There’s a certain closeness that develops between students when you take all the same classes for four years, and Jackie Cox had been in all of Jan’s classes since freshman year. By design, their schedules had ended up being very similar. It helped that they were into the same extracurricular activities as well. They were both athletic, both involved in student government and the debate team. They even both participated in the spring musicals: Jan onstage in a lead role, Jackie backstage as part of the tech crew.

But as their friendship grew so did their rivalry, at least on Jan’s part. She’d always seen Jackie as a reminder that she had to work harder to be her best. With Jackie, everything always seemed so effortless. Her poise, her perfection, even the way she spoke and carried herself. Jan felt like she herself was constantly obsessing over everything she thought and said. When she looked at Jackie, she felt like the other girl just had a natural ease about her.

She’d tried for years to be more like Jackie. But the feeling grew especially deep after they’d received their first calculus quizzes in October and Jan’s was emblazoned with a fat, red D. Jackie’s, on the other hand, sported an A.

Ms. Hytes had asked Jan to stay behind after class so she could encourage her to either drop the class or consider hiring a tutor.

Failure was absolutely out of the question. So Jan asked for help. She asked Jackie for help.

Honestly, if it wasn’t for Jackie, she wouldn’t be pulling a B in calculus. Not at all. In fact, she probably would have failed out at semester.

So now that there’s this final that she has to prepare for, there’s only one person she trusts to help her study for it.

Jan catches Jackie in the hallway (their lockers are nowhere close because that’s the way life—and the alphabet—works, but Jan is good at getting what she wants), and asks her if she feels ready for the final tomorrow.

Jackie sighs, the exhalation blowing the dark curtain of hair off her forehead. “I mean, I think. I might look over my notes again tonight. You feel good about it?”

Jan laughs, high-pitched, a tell-tale sign of her anxiety. She hates that she wears her emotions like an oversized sweater. “No, actually. That’s kind of why I’m here.”

So anyway, that’s how they end up on Jan’s bedroom floor, calculus books open in their laps, a plate of chocolate chip cookies and glasses of Dr Pepper set aside because Jackie is a Professional when it comes to this whole studying thing.

(That’s probably why she’s the valedictorian and you’re not, a hateful, nasty voice whispers in the back of Jan’s head. Because she’s dedicated to studying and you’re worried about whether or not she likes your cookies.)

She won’t think about the fact that for the past six months, she’s also been concerned about whether or not Jackie likes her.

It’s not exactly something she’s prepared to deal with.

Jan’s dated before, of course, but they’ve always been boys. And now, all of a sudden and by some act of whatever god exists, she finds herself having a massive crush on Jackie.

So she’s bisexual. It’s fine. She’s had years to deal with this, and she’s always kind of wondered.

Honestly, she’s chalking it up to academic jealousy.

Jan just wants to be like her, that’s all. It has nothing to do with the way her long, dark hair cascades in waves down her back, or the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs, or the way Jackie had caught her backstage right before opening night of Carousel and grasped her hands and told her to break a leg and knock them dead and basically be the best Carrie anyone had ever seen before kissing her cheek.

Except it totally does.

“So to compute the three-by-three you have to multiply A by the two-by-two determinant of the matrix,” Jackie says, marking something in her notebook. “Now, how do I get that?”

“Huh?” Jan asks stupidly, brought back from her reverie by the question. “God, I’m sorry. I’m just…” She scrubs her hands down her face then immediately regrets it because her eyeliner is now definitely smeared. “I’m out of it.”

Jackie nods and presses her lips together. She breathes in quickly like she’s going to say something, but changes her mind at the last minute. She taps her pencil on her notebook.

“Sorry I’m wasting your time,” Jan says sheepishly. “You can go if you want…”

“No!” Jackie says quickly. “No, it’s not that. I just… I’m just wondering…” She sighs. “Things have been kind of weird between us ever since spring break… Since the honors were announced, and I just…” She shrugs. “I guess I just want to know if you like, hate me for being valedictorian over you.”

Jan gasps. “I could never hate you.” She hadn’t known that her disappointment was quite so palpable. Then she decides that Jackie deserves to know the absolute truth. “I was disappointed. My parents expect a lot out of me, and they… They’ve been pushing for this since, like, forever. I just didn’t want to let them down.”

Jackie’s eyes widen. “Salutatorian is letting them down?”

Jan shakes her head. “You don’t know my parents.”

“No. But I think I kind of understand. ” Jackie closes her book and pulls her knees into her chest. “You know my parents immigrated from Iran, right? So like, the American dream? That’s all they want for me. And that includes college. A good one.” She laughs. “My mom wants me to be a doctor.”

“What do you want to be?” Jan asks quietly.

Jackie’s quiet for a moment before she shakes her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone’s actually asked me that before. Isn’t that wild? I’m 18, and I have no idea what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

Jan shrugs. “We’re 18. I don’t think we’re supposed to know what we want to do with the rest of our lives.”

“I know one thing I want to do, though,” Jackie says, smiling. “When I get to college, I’m going to kiss a girl. I’ve always wanted to. I mean, I know I’m gay so like. That’ll be nice.”

“You can’t do that here?”

“Are you kidding?” She scoffs. “My mother would kill me. And that’s before my dad finds out.”

Jan shrugs. “You could kiss me. If you wanted.” Her cheeks fill with color. She’s never this brash, this forward. But the opportunity had presented itself and she’d taken it. “I mean, or not. Whatever. It’s fine—”

“Jan.” Jackie’s looking at her, dark eyes narrowed as her hand creeps up to cup her chin gently, and Jan has just enough time to gasp in a shock of air before their lips meet softly, tenderly, slowly meshing together. Kissing Jackie is so much better than kissing any of the boys she’s ever dated before.

Jackie pulls away far before Jan wants her to, and she’s left wanting more. She shudders a sigh and opens her eyes slowly.

“Wow,” she says.

“Yeah,” Jackie replies, brushing the hair off her shoulders. “That was… Umm. We should probably study, though.”

“Right. Of course.” Jan blushes again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Distract you.”

“Jan…” Jackie’s hand falls softly over her knee. “We can kiss more when we get through matrix determinants, okay?”

Jan isn’t sure what it is, but something about this new teaching method suddenly makes perfect sense.

She makes a 93 on her final and finishes the semester with an A.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #jackie cox #jankie #high school au #lesbian au #meggie #submission #s12

[dontgotothenetherworld]

ap psychology

anonymous asked:  Can I request readers putting all her studying off till the week before AP exams and she starts studying an unhealthy amount, like sometimes forgetting to eat all day because of it and even made herself sick from stress over it but reader refuses to complain because she did it to herself and Lydia's just there helping her review and making sure she takes time to care for herself ect? Bonus if Reader thinks she did bad and Lydia assuring her she did fine and has an 'i told you don't moment? 

anonymous asked: Totally didn't request that bc that's my situation-

for some reason when i tried to queue this w/ the original ask, tumblr wanted to put the cut in the ask and i couldn’t delete it

this is out of date now, but i was uninspired to write for a hella long time sorry. also! i’m going to draw from my experiences w/ ap this year, and the only ap exam i had to take was psych, so that’s also going to be the case for reader :)

also, i feel like my lydia is a bit out of character? idk it’ll probably take a while to get back to the way i used to write her.

1303 words

cw: femreader. food

you cursed under your breath. months ago, months! you told yourself you would start studying for your ap exam. you only had the one exam to study for, so you told yourself that if you just did a little bit everyday, you would be fine.

but here you were, about three days until your ap psychology exam, and you hadn’t studied any of it. you had hardly even watched the videos your teacher had posted as the digital learning content. but to be fair, the stuff he was talking about in them were the last unit or two of psych, and you wouldn’t have to worry about them, because you weren’t going to be tested on them.

you groaned and dragged your feet downstairs, to where you hid your backpack. the friday weeks ago, when your school told everyone that classes would go digital for a few weeks because of the coronavirus, your teacher had come prepared. he gave everyone that showed up to class, which, granted, wasn’t that many but still- a huge packet covering everything that you had studied this year. it was some forty pages long.

okay, it was, like, thirty five because you crossed out the pages about personality and disorders. which was a shame, because those are the units that everyone takes psychology to learn about. no one goes, “oh boy, i can’t wait to learn about how to test if a baby has depth perception!” or “i can’t wait to learn about all the different types of visual illusions!” but whatever.

you flipped to page thirty five, to see how many questions you were in for. just over 250, except that’s counting all the charts as individual questions. yeah, that makes sense. one and a half pages of listing what researchers discovered what is equivalent to answering which cortex of the brain processes visual stimuli.

wait a minute. lydia was also taking psych. studying sucks, but if you could do it with your girlfriend, that’d be so much less painful.

you texted her, “hey lyds, have u finished the psych packet yet?”

”yea i finished it yesterday, why?” she texted back almost immediately.

shit. looks like you’ll have to suffer through this alone. “nvm”

you looked at the time, 1:46. damn, already? it felt like you had only just woken up. you made yourself a coffee, and set up shop on the desk you have never used in your bedroom, with laptop open beside you. you planned on googling everything, rather than going through your notes, mostly because you forgot where you put them, but this would still take ages.

an hour passed, and you felt like you were dying on the inside. if you had to answer one more question about behavioral psych, you were going to scream. behavioral psych is by far the worst part of psychology! watson and skinner be damned! people are people not some computer code! people have feelings! you can’t just ignore them! and the feeling you were feeling right now was not a good one!

you wanted to stop, but you weren’t sure if you stopped now if you’d be able to finish the packet. so you kept on going.

you went another five hours, taking five minute tik tok breaks every hour to keep you sane. you looked at the clock, and realized you hadn’t eaten anything today. you grabbed a box of cheez-its and made your way back upstairs, and went back to work. this time, you ate a cheez-it every time you finished a question, or you filled out a row in a chart.

you didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you woke up in the morning with about half the packet filled out. considering the exam was in one day, and four-ish hours, you thought that was good.

as you made your morning coffee, you checked the messages lydia had sent you. “are you doing okay? normally we talk a lot but…” “wait, are you working on the study guide?” “y/n! please take breaks! remember! you need food!” “and water!”

you sent back, “if i eat my cheez-its, and i drink my coffee while i study, then i don’t have to take breaks.”

you went back to your desk, and plugged your phone in across the room so you wouldn’t be distracted. but also because you forgot to charge it before you passed out, so it was at three percent, because apparently you had kept it open to tik tok all night, and the video just kept looping. oops.

for a while, the studying seemed easier. you felt like you had less to do, and you didn’t need to worry about getting it done in time, because you had more than enough of it. but because you didn’t need to rush, you became more productive.

you finished the second half of the packet by six that evening. you do admit, you got a bit lazy in the last few pages, but it was done!

shit. studying isn’t just writing stuff down, you have to read it over, right? you don’t really study that much.

but you decided to take an hour or two’s break for… breakfast? dinner? maybe even lunch? whatever, leftover pizza, because you had just only now just realized the intense rumbling in your stomach.

you checked your phone for the first time in hours. you were actually kind of proud of yourself. you usually were on your phone every waking hour, which was probably a problem, but you had shown enormous restraint… by spending every waking hour staring at your laptop. it’s all about choosing your battles.

you quickly dismissed some twitter notifications before tapping on a new message from lydia. “babe, i’m getting really worried about you, please call me when you see this.” you furrowed your brows. worried? about you? why?

you called lydia, and she picked up nearly immediately.

”y/n!” she gasped with relief, “don’t do that to me again!”

you felt stupid for wondering what she was talking about, but you kind of needed to know, “what do you mean?”

”you’ve been offline for hours, and i couldn’t get to you! and then when i heard what you were eating, that got me worried. have you eaten today?”

”three slices of pizza right now.” you swallowed a bite.

”is that your first meal today?”

”unless you count coffee, yeah. i’ll do better tomorrow, i promise. speaking of tomorrow, we’ve got the psych exam, and i need to keep studying. i’ll call after the exam, so like three?”

”y/n.”

”yeah?”

”you do realize this exam is online, right? and at home?”

”uh, yeah.” you swallowed.

”and you have both a laptop and a phone?”

”lydia, what are you saying?” cheating. she was definitely talking about cheating.

”i’m saying, that you don’t really need to know the definitions, because our dear old pal google can be there to help you out with those. and you’re smart, so i assume you know the concepts.”

”you think very highly, of me, my dear.” you took another bite of pizza. “so, what you’re saying is, i wasted two days studying?”

”yes, that is exactly what i’m saying.”

”shit. wait, why were you studying?”

”ugh, because i am nowhere near as good as you at being able to understand things.”

”you know, definitions explain the concept too.”

”what are you saying?” asked lydia.

”i think we’ve both wasted a lot of time studying when we didn’t need to.”

”fuck.” lydia breathed.

”yeah, we’re both idiots. do you wanna watch something on netflix? you haven’t finished parks and rec yet, right?”

”no, i just finished an episode before you called me.”

”which one?”

”season four, episode seven.”

”wait, is the next episode smallest park? we need to watch that, like, now.”

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book--butterfly

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice braodway #beetlejuice fanfiction #lydia #lydia deetz #lydia x reader #lydia deetz x reader #fic

[ptersparkers]

hi, peter parker

summary: the four nights spider-man visited your window and the one time he stayed.

a/n: this has been in my drafts since early 2018 and i am in love with peter parker. anyways im so grateful to get to hear back from you guys and i love seeing messages from you lot!!

warnings: none, just fluff 

masterlist / taglist 

i

To think you had said no to a night out.

You sighed and looked at your phone, your friend Taylor sending you a video via snapchat wishing you were at a friend’s house party. Initially you had declined because of a stressful week at school, but now you were bored out of your mind.

‘Sorry, Tay,’ you texted. ‘Maybe next time.’

Your phone’s clock read three minutes until midnight and you figured it would be best to sleep. You scoffed at the thought of resting when your body’s clock was rendered to stay up until four in the morning - what you had been doing some nights to study for upcoming AP tests. Now that that was out of the way, it’s like your body couldn’t fall asleep until well after midnight.

You groaned to yourself and switched on the small light by your bed. The light was dim enough so it wouldn’t bother the neighbors across from your apartment. Your eyes were closed for a total of, what felt like a millisecond, before you heard knocking on your window.

“What in the world?” you muttered. You stood up from your bed and immediately saw a red mask greet you.

“Hey there! I know this is weird, but you’re the only window with the light on and I really need to stop before I fall. There’s a whole bunch of houses and I need to fix my web shooters,” said the man in the mask, which you knew to be Spider-Man.

You stared at him, unable to comprehend what you were about to do. “Oh, um, sure,” you said before opening your window. You stepped aside and let him in. Spider-Man crawled through your window and landed effortlessly on the carpet, not making a sound.

“That was almost graceful,” you commented. “I’m pretty sure my mom would’ve thought I snuck out.”

“Do you sneak out?” he asked.

“Nah. I’m too lame to try. Do you want water or anything?” He shook his head.

“No, I just need someplace to fix my web shooters. I think they got jammed,” he replied.

“Okay, cool,” you said awkwardly, balancing from one foot to the other.

“Can I sit on your bed?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Do you have a small pick by any chance?”

“I have tweezers?”

“I guess that’ll do.”

You fetched tweezers from your makeup vanity and gave them to him. He instantaneously began working on his web shooters as you stood and watched. His head shot up and he faced you.

“I’m sorry, I never introduced myself. I’m Spider-Man,” he said, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N,” you replied. “Welcome to my humble abode.”i

“Thanks! I really like the board above your bed with all the polaroids. It looks so neat that I fear I might mess it up from all the way over here.”

You laughed and sat beside him. “I’ve been obsessed with taking polaroids for two years now. I made it a point to capture the best memories and fix them into some sort of memory board so I can remember the good times.”

“That’s smart. I wish I was artistic and creative, but I can barely draw a straight line with a ruler,” he said. You watched as he worked and sat in silence for a moment.

“Say, do these web shooters get stuck all the time?”

“Not usually, I just think I haven’t really been able to update them or clean them out. I’ve been busy with all this ‘saving the little guy’ stuff,” he said.

“Is it fun? Being Spider-Man, I mean. You’re practically an Avenger,” you asked.

“I’m technically not an Avenger. Well, not yet. I’ve been working with Mr. Stark for a little bit, but it’s mostly keeping Queens safe for now.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a serious job on your hands.”

You could see the eyes on his mask move like he was smiling underneath. “Yeah, I do. I’m glad people can understand that.”

“So, what kind of things do you do on your day off? I’m sure you’re not always swinging around and hanging out in the homes of strangers.”

He laughs. “No, not really. I don’t know, I hang out with friends sometimes.”

You thought about asking him more, but decided against it. His life outside of being Spider-Man was his own.

“Wow, that sounds pretty mundane. I do pretty much the same, except school’s almost over and I have a month until summer break,” you replied. Spider-Man hands you back your tweezers and fixes the web shooters back on his suit.

“Any fun plans for the summer?”

“As of right now, no, but who’s to say?”

Spider-Man laughed and walked towards your window. “I’m sure you’ll find something fun to do. Thanks again, Y/N.”

“See ya!” you say as you watch him exit the window and swing away.

ii

Summer was just around the corner. It was another Friday night and you had decided against studying for finals because it seemed that that was all you did in your free time. The sky was getting dark out and you decided to stay in bed tonight and binge watch shows on Netflix, turning your phone on silent. You had enough snacks to last you the entire night and popped your headphones in, pressing play.

It wasn’t long before you heard tapping on your window. Curiously, you stood from your bed and saw Spider-Man.

“You again,” you said playfully as you opened up the window. “What do you need this time?”

“Honestly? I think I need a little break,” he said. “I’d also love to take this suit off, but my identity is something I’d like to keep hidden for a little while.”

“That’s fine,” you replied. “I’m not really in a rush. Not that you need to tell me who you are or anything, ugh, you get what I mean.”

Spider-Man laughed and pointed at your window and you nodded, watching as he climbed his way through.

“Can you even breathe in that thing?” you asked, pointing at his mask.

“Oh, yeah! It’s a breathable material and lets oxygen pass so I’m not always suffocating myself. That’s how I’m able to keep the mask on at all times.”

“Interesting,” you said, sitting on your chair by your desk as he took a seat on your bed.

“Studying for finals?”

“More like procrastinating. Well, all I do is study and I deserve a break,” you said.

“That you do. Final season is coming up and I’m dreading having to -”

“Wait, you’re in school?” you asked, interrupting his speech.

Spider-Man looked at the ground, the walls, and anywhere but your gaze.

“I, uh, yeah?” he said with uncertainty, scratching the back of his neck.

“If you think I’m going to look all over Queens to find out which school you go to, I’m letting you know now that I won’t. That seems like too much effort and for all I know, that isn’t your actual voice,” you replied, twirling a pen in your hand.

“Phew, thank you,” said Spider-Man, pretending to wipe sweat off of his forehead. “Damn, all of this swinging made me really hungry.”

“You should try the deli down there. It’s called Delmar’s and it’s my favorite sandwich shop. Also, asked for the sandwiches to be smushed! Don’t ask me why, but it tastes better,” you said.

Spider-Man went silent for a moment and you cocked your head to the side, thinking you either said something wrong or he was just really hungry.

“What?”

Spider-Man shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. I’ll be sure to try your suggestion. Anyway, I’ll see you soon!”

And with that, you saw red and blue flying in the wind.

iii

You were half asleep with your headphones in your ears when you heard a faint ‘thwip.’ Your parents were fast asleep and you had willed yourself to watch one more episode of Law and Order: SVU before getting sleep for your final. Currently, you were on your side with one earbud in (the other having fallen out, but you didn’t care much) and the voice of Olivia Benson could be faintly heard from the volume that could put you to sleep.

You stirred slightly, but not enough to wake you up fully.

Then came a knock on your window. Once. Twice. Three times. You yawned and rolled over to see Spider-Man standing outside your window with nothing but the moon behind him to illuminate your room. You threw the covers off of you and rubbed the sleep away from your eyes, opening the window for him to come in. With it, the chilly wind did not welcome you warmly and you grabbed a sweatshirt from your closet.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said sheepishly.

You waved him off. “It’s okay, Spider-Man. I like your company and you’re probably the only person who I couldn’t bring myself to yell at.”

He put his hands of his heart. “Wow, I’m so touched.”

“You should be,” you said, climbing into the covers and resting your back against your bed frame. “What brings you to this part of Queens at this ungodly hour?”

“It’s only nine thirty,” Spider-Man deadpanned. You shrugged.

“What can I say? A girl really needs her beauty sleep before her last final.” Spider-Man’s autonomic eyes seemed to narrow as if her were in thought.  

“Oh shoot, that’s tomorrow? I’m sorry for bothering you,” he apologized. You laughed and shook your head, patting the bed for him to rest on. Spider-Man gently put his knees on the mattress and situated himself so he was laying on his side, looking at you.

“It’s okay, Spidey. You already know I love your company. Besides, it’s only nine thirty,” you mocked. Spider-Man laughed and the room fell into a comfortable silence. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing really,” he began, but you looked at him with a knowing expression. “Okay, a lot but that’s for another day when we have more time. I’m just thinking how lucky I am to have you in my life and I’m grateful it was you whose room I stumbled into and not some mean old lady.”

“I’m happy you came here too,” you confessed. “This is probably gonna sound weird but...your visits are something I look forward to. I don’t know, I just feel like I opened up to you much quicker than any of the friends I have at school.”

“I feel the same way,” he said, sighing. “I don’t know, it’s just hard being two people at the same time. Even though you don’t know my real name yet, you know more about me than anyone else does.”

“And that’s something I will cherish forever,” you said, stroking his cheek with your hand. “I’m really happy I met you.”

“I can say the same,” he replied. But before he could make himself more comfortable, Spider-Man pushed himself off of the bed and adjusted his web shooters before seeing that you had tucked yourself in. Spider-Man smiled and his autonomic eyes grew wider as he bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could barely feel his lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

iv

You groaned, slamming your door shut and planted your face into a pillow, wanting to forget the world had ever existed. It was a hot summer night and your mother had just let you know that she and your father would be staying at a friend’s for the week, but that you couldn’t join them this time. You probably should’ve been happy to have the apartment alone, but the last thing you wanted to be was alone.

Spider-Man hadn’t come by your apartment in nearly a month and you had started to grow increasingly worried about the boy who you couldn’t get out of your mind. Every time you thought about the possibility of dating, you immediately shook that out of your head for two reasons: the first being he’s a superhero and you were a regular New York citizen, and the fact that you didn’t know his name or what he looked like. You’d never pressure him, but that didn’t mean you were dying to know.

The sun was almost set when your parents left and you hadn’t had the decency to move from where you flung yourself. There was a tapping sound from the window and you knew who it was.

“It’s open!” you mumbled from your pillow, where you had curled yourself so you could continue in your self wallowing.

“Who dragged the cat in?” Spider-Man asked with a chuckle. You looked at him as if you hadn’t seen him in years and got off of your bed, letting your arms snake its way around him. With a sigh, you closed your eyes and let yourself revel in this moment. “You okay?”

“I was worried,” you said quietly. “You usually go no more than a few days of being gone but it’s been nearly a month, and I know I don’t have any right to worry, and that you were probably really busy, but I was really worried.” Spider-Man let out a soft chuckle and held your body closer to his, letting his chin rest on top of your head.

“You have every right to be worried, Y/N. I’m touched that you care so much. I-I’ve been a little stressed with my personal life and haven’t been able to patrol as often and I didn’t have much energy to swing to your place. I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I’m just relieved to find out you aren’t dead.”

Spider-Man laughed. “Say, what are your parents gonna think if they find me in your room?”

“Well, they’re gone this week so there’s no way that’s happening.”

“Oh, well lucky me, I guess,” he said nonchalantly as he let himself rest on your bed. He plopped himself in the middle, his back resting against the mattress as you chuckled. “Come lay with me.”

You didn’t say anything as you climbed next to him and willed yourself not to put your entire body on him, but Spider-Man pulled you to his side and held you tight.

“I had this nightmare that you needed me and I couldn’t save you,” said Spider-Man. “I was in a really weird place and felt like I couldn’t leave my house but last night was the last straw. You were falling and I couldn’t save you. I needed to see you again just to make sure.

His voice got weaker and you put your head on his chest, finding his hand to squeeze it to let him know you understood.

“Sometimes I think this gig is too much for me. I feel like I shouldn’t have been given these abilities but at the same time, I’m grateful for all the things it’s given me. Like you.”

“I’m here,” you whispered.

You both stared at the ceiling for a while, basking in each other’s company. You would faintly feel his heart beating through his suit and he was rubbing soothing circling on your hip with his thumb.

“You know,” you said, hesitantly while propping yourself up with your elbows. “You could stay for the night since my parents are gone.” Your eyes widened as soon as you said it. “I-I mean that in the most innocent way possible.”

Spider-Man laughed and looked at you with his autonomic eyes, letting a comfortable moment pass as he thought about your offer.

“I think I’d have to let some people know I’d be safe first, but I’d like that.”

It grew quiet between you two and you didn’t know what was to come next. Slowly, you moved your body to sit up and he followed suit, wondering what you were planning.

“Do you trust me?” you asked.

“I trust you,” he confirmed. You moved your hand towards his mask and you could already sense his body tense up, especially when you moved the mask up his face. You stopped for a brief moment, but he didn’t stop you. You kept lifting the mask until it rest gently above his nose and leaned in to place your lips on his.

The kiss was gentle and searing at the same time, like you both had been wanting to do something for a while but hadn’t until that very moment. It was passionate and innocent, slow and fast. It wasn’t rushed; you held his jaw with both hands, afraid that he was going to leave the second you pulled away. His lips moved in conjunction with yours and didn’t part until you both ran out of air.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while,” he said, not bothering to pull his mask down. You laughed and looked at him as he took off his web shooters and pulled his mask off his face.

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker.”

To say you were surprised was an understatement. Spider-Man was cute.

“Holy shit, you’re hot,” you whispered more to yourself. Peter laughed and your cheeks developed a pink tint.

“I happen to think you’re also hot,” Peter said with a chuckle before pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Hi, Peter Parker,” you said with a grin.

“Hi, Y/N Y/L/N,” he said with a grin equally as big.

“I don’t really know what I imagined under the mask, but you’re much cuter than what I had expected,” you said. “Let me go get some of my brother’s extra clothes. He lives in Los Angeles now but we still have some of his stuff!”

Peter smiled at you as you walked out of your bedroom and took the time to look around, letting himself bask in the moment that was pure bliss. How you were going to introduce him to your parents, he didn’t know. But Peter knew he didn’t want to let you go any time soon.

***

Taglist

@kath94210​ @sessi03​ @olliekookie​ @edgyhargreeves​ @simonsbluee​ @meraki--me @sleep-i-ness​

#peter parker #my writing #hi peter parker

[once-upon-a-spemily]

Like Sugar, So Sweet

Summary: Emily is trying to tell Spencer she’s in love with her, but maybe expressing her love via baked goods isn’t the most obvious method. Hey, they say the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach! 

A/N: I write a lot of Spencer pining, so I thought it was only fair to turn the tables this time. So here, have a pining Emily trying to win Spencer over by baking her lots of treats. 

I.

It starts because Emily doesn’t know how to get the message across. She didn’t think she was being subtle, but Spencer seems to have no idea that Emily is in love with her. Emily’s done everything she can think of, really, to drop hints.

She’s asked for help on homework she could’ve done on her own. She’s watched Spencer’s field hockey practices and walked her to her car after school. She’s been touchy, too.

But it’s like Spencer doesn’t even know.

Her grandmother always said the way to a boy’s heart was through his stomach and she figures that must be true for girls, too.

She knows Spencer as a Russian Lit paper due tomorrow, so Emily spends her night over the stove, whisking and mixing and measuring and baking and frosting.

She comes to school the next day with a box of a dozen red velvet cupcakes, each with a perfect swirl of cream cheese icing on top. Her fingernails still have red-dye under the tips but it’ll be worth it, she thinks.

“Spencer!” Emily says, catching up to her at her locker. “These are for you.”

Spencer opens the box and her eyes light up. “Em, these are gorgeous. Where did you get them?”

“Oh,” Emily says, chewing on her lower lip. “I made them.”

Spencer lifts her gaze to meet Emily’s and she just stares at her for a moment, mouth agape. “Emily…”

Emily shrugs, like it was nothing, even though it definitely wasn’t. “I knew you had a rough day ahead of you, and I wanted to cheer you up.”

Spencer closes the box, looks at her fondly. Emily’s heart flutters. “You didn’t need to make a dozen cupcakes for that, you know. Just saying hi is more than enough,” Spencer says. Her fingers tighten around the box. “But thank you. You actually made today survivable.”

Emily opens her mouth. Wants to say of course. Wants to say go out with me. Wants to say a lot of things, really, but the bell rings, and Spencer is grabbing her backpack.

She turns to go to class, stops only to say, “You’re an amazing friend, Em,” and Emily stands in the hallway, with red stained fingers, and she swallows.

It feels like she’s swallowing rocks.

II.

So maybe using baking as a way to tell Spencer she has feelings for her wasn’t the best idea. But Emily can’t think of anything else.

For some reason, the words are too much. She can’t stand the thought of Spencer not feeling the same way, or worse – feeling uncomfortable.

She needs Spencer to know. She just can’t tell her.

Her ideas are few and far between. She’s still brainstorming, or trying to at least, two weeks after the cupcake disaster. She’s at Spencer house, with Aria and Hanna. It’s the morning after a big sleepover and Emily is the first one up.

They didn’t sleep in the barn last night – not since Melissa decided she wanted to redecorate it, it’s been off limits. No, they all crashed in Spencer’s room, not for the first time. They slept in their usual arrangements – Hanna on the window seat, Aria on a pile of pillows on the floor. Emily in bed with Spencer.

Emily didn’t get much sleep.

She’s up and making coffee, mixing pancake batter while she waits for the griddle to get hot.

She hears footsteps and considering it’s only eight in the morning, she knows who it is.

Emily’s heart flips despite herself.

Spencer’s still got bedhead, and she looks so soft, it makes Emily’s heart ache.

“Mmm, coffee,” Spencer mumbles when she sees the pot. “I love you.”

Emily’s stomach drops like a stone but she finds it in herself to smile, anyway. “I know you.”

“I owe you my life.”

Emily laughs, and turns her attention back to the griddle, spooning batter onto it. “I’ll settle for Physics tutoring.”

“Deal.”

Emily rolls her eyes, watching the batter bubble so she knows when to flip. It’s a quiet morning. Just her and Spencer in the kitchen. She doesn’t hear Spencer get up, or walk around the counter. She almost bumps into her when she’s plating up the newest batch of pancakes.

“Oh, god, Spencer,” she says, careful not to drop the pancakes on the floor. “I didn’t realize you were there.”

“Sorry,” Spencer says.

She still hovers as Emily cooks, standing by her elbow, enough that Emily can feel her warmth. The caffeine must’ve not fully kicked in yet, because she’s still Sleepy Spencer. She rests her chin on Emily’s shoulder.

“You didn’t have to make breakfast, y’know,” she says, and her voice is still rough from sleep. Emily wills herself not to shudder. “You’re a guest in my house.”

“I figured at this point we were all more like family, anyway.”

Spencer pulls back, and there’s something in her eyes, something in the set of her jaw. It immediately has Emily wondering what she said wrong.

There’s a long, painful moment of silence and then, finally, Spencer speaks.

“I kind of hate my family,” she whispers. “At least most of the time. But you…”’

She trails off, and Emily doesn’t know what takes over her, but she bunches up Spencer’s pajama shirt in her hand, anchoring Spencer in place so she doesn’t walk away from this conversation. Maybe pulls her even closer, so they’re standing almost together.

“But me?”

“I could never hate you,” Spencer says softly. “Whatever you are, you’re not family. You’re better.”

Emily opens her mouth, thinks that maybe this time, she can say the words, and then she hears thundering footsteps and she lets go of Spencer, takes a step back right as Aria and Hanna come downstairs.

“We smelled coffee,” Aria says, still wiping the sleep out of her eyes.

“I made it Spencer-level-strong,” Emily warns them.

“Booooo,” Hanna says through a yawn. “You’re playing favorites again! Make coffee for the normal people, please.”

Spencer takes mock-offense at that, and a few minutes later, they’re bickering and laughing as they dig into pancakes, and it’s like the moment never happened at all.

III.

Emily is nothing if not determined. She and Spencer both have stubborn streaks a mile wide and Emily refuses to give up that easily.

Not until she runs out of ideas.

Spencer’s AP World History class is currently studying ancient Greece and they’re having some party in class before winter break and they’re all supposed to bring something.

Spencer is in the middle of writing three papers and she has an advanced math test in two days and she’s going to try and spend all night tonight making moussaka or something. It’s one of the things that drives Emily crazy about Spencer – she puts so much on herself and doesn’t stop and doesn’t stop and then is surprised when she can’t hold it all anymore.

It's one of the reasons she loves her, too.

Emily grabs everything she needs for her plan, walks to Spencer’s house and knocks on the door. Spencer opens it and she has her hair all tied up and she looks half-wild, with strands falling out of it. Emily reaches out and tucks one of the strands behind Spencer’s ear before she can help herself.

“I can’t hang out,” Spencer blurts. “I’m so–”

“Busy, I know,” Emily says. She shifts the bag in her arm, drawing Spencer’s attention to it. “I’m here to help.”

Spencer still looks a little suspicious – Emily gets it, Hanna and Aria are notoriously bad at helping, try as they might – but she steps aside anyway, letting Emily into the house.

Spencer hovers as Emily goes into the kitchen, unpacking the items she brought. After a minute, Emily looks up, shooting Spencer a reassuring smile.

“Go. Study. I’m making something for your AP World party.”

Spencer’s gaze flickers up to Emily’s equal parts warm and confused, but eventually she goes to sit on the couch with her notes and her computer.

They spend the night like that. It’s just the two of them, Spencer on the couch, doing her work, and Emily in the kitchen, layering phyllo dough and honey and nuts.

It’s 9:30 at night when Spencer gets up, stretches and walks over to where Emily is standing.

“Smells good,” she mumbles, trying to peer through the oven window.

“It’s Baklava,” Emily says shyly. She’d googled Greek recipes that morning.

That seems to snap Spencer out of her study-fog. “You made baklava?” she asks. She sounds so incredulous that for a moment, Emily is at a loss for words. She feels herself blushing.

“I mean…it’s Greek, right?” she says.

“No, I mean, yes,” Spencer says, still staring at her. “It is. I just…I can’t believe you did that.”

Emily relaxes, a little, and she shrugs. “It should be good. I used this amazing local honey and everything. Here,” she says and she reaches across the counter for the jar, dipping her pinky finger in before she even thinks about it.

The thing is, it all happens in a handful of seconds. Maybe three, maybe five. Emily dips her finger into the honey, she lifts it, Spencer sucks the honey off. Wraps her lips around Emily’s finger, licks it clean. And it’s over.

Five seconds, maybe.

It feels like a lifetime.

Spencer is staring at her, or at least Emily thinks that’s what happening, and Emily opens her mouth to speak when the timer on the baklava goes off.

They pull apart, and Emily pretends the heat on her face is from opening the oven, nothing else.

Apparently, the next day at school, the baklava goes over well.

VI.

She overhears Spencer talking to Aria about this amazing crème brulee she had on her date with Alex a few months back, and how she’s been craving it.

The thought of Alex kills Emily’s appetite entirely, but it also gives her an idea.

Cupcakes, pancakes – those are all basic. Easy. She could make those for anyone, anytime.

She’s currently standing in her kitchen at 11 PM, in her pajamas, with a bowl of custard and a blow torch. This, she thinks, is art. It’s sophisticated. It’s very Spencer.

She sprinkles sugar on top of the custard and turns on the flame.

She goes over to the Hastings’ the next day as soon as she can, knocking on the door.

“Hi Emily,” Veronica says, already gesturing for her to come in. “You know where she is.”

Emily smiles and makes her way up to Spencer’s bedroom. She knocks with her knuckles. “Hey,” she says, watching Spencer’s head whip up at the sound, watching the slow smile creep across her lips, “brought you something.”

“If it’s your algebra homework, I’ll pass,” Spencer teases.

Emily rolls her eyes and hands her a spoon. “This is a little tastier.”

She thinks, but maybe it’s just her imagination, that Spencer’s eyes flick down to her lips. Emily feels her confidence prick up just a little at that, even if it’s just wishful thinking. She reveals the crème brulee.

Spencer stares at the dish, and the seconds stretch out. Emily tries not to feel embarrassed, tries not to flush, but it’s hard, when Spencer drags her gaze up slowly. “Did you…?”

Emily nods. “Yeah,” she says. “For you.”

“For me,” Spencer repeats. Her voice sounds thick. “No one ever…does stuff like this for me.”

Emily’s heart breaks a little, but she scoots onto the bed, putting the dish in Spencer’s lap. “I do. I will.”

Spencer lets out a long, slow breath, and then she nods. “I know you do. You do it all the time. Not just with food. You’re always taking care of me.” Then she looks back at Emily, scooting closer, until their legs are pressed together. “Share it with me?” Spencer asks.

“Okay,” Emily breathes. “But you have to crack it.”

Spencer laughs and does as told, tapping her spoon against the caramelized sugar until it shatters and breaks. They sit on Spencer’s bed, trading bites of the dessert, and Emily tries not to shiver when Spencer moans at the taste.

Emily reaches up to wipe a drop of custard from the corner of Spencer’s lips and she’s just…

Emily is so tired.

She’s tired of people thinking she’s fragile, or not strong enough, or not brave enough. She’s so much more than anyone gives her credit for, and she’s tired of being scared.

“Hey,” she says.

Spencer looks up at her. “Hey.”

“I’m in love with you,” she murmurs. Her voice is steady and sure, because she is steady and sure. She knows she’s in love with Spencer, can’t dance around it any longer. “You don’t…you don’t have to feel the same way, I just couldn’t keep it in anymore. I’ve been trying and trying to tell you but–”

Spencer doesn’t cut her off with a kiss. Doesn’t sweep her off of her feet. No. She leans in, slides one hand over Emily’s jaw, drags her thumb across her lower lip.

“You love me?” she asks.

Emily swallows thickly. “Yeah, I have for a while now.”

Spencer’s eyes drop down to her mouth. “Can I…?”

“Yeah,” Emily breathes. “Please.”

Spencer doesn’t need any more than that, apparently, and kisses Emily like she is the only thing that matters. All of Spencer’s intensity, all of her laser-like focus…it’s all on Emily. It’s all on kissing her.

Emily feels like she’s going to melt.

Spencer crawls over her, lowering Emily onto the bed as she does.

“Want to kiss you, always,” Spencer breathes in between the kisses. “Want to take care of you this time.”

And oh, Emily feels heat curling in her stomach and she deepens the kiss, sliding her tongue against Spencer’s slowly.

Being brave, she thinks, pays off sometimes.

V.

Spencer says the words I love you back, eventually. When their mouths aren’t quite so busy.

Emily spends the night. Spencer can’t seem to keep her hands to herself. She’s touching Emily all night, not even anything dirty necessarily, but it’s not like Emily minds.

It only becomes a problem in the morning, when Emily is trying to scramble eggs, and Spencer is still practically attached to her. She’s got Emily pulled against her, Emily’s back against her chest. She’s drawing circles on Emily’s hip with her thumb.

It makes it very, very hard to concentrate.

“M’gonna burn the eggs,” Emily chastises her.

“We have cereal,” Spencer says, pressing a kiss to the back of Emily’s neck.

“Spence…” Emily whines, which seems to do nothing to discourage Spencer, since Spencer just kisses up the side of Emily’s neck instead.

“You don’t have to cook for me all the time, you know,” Spencer says, when she takes a pause. “You’ve got me now. I’m yours.”

Emily huffs, as if those words don’t make her knees go weak, and she turns off the burner with the eggs still half-runny and turns around in Spencer’s arms, getting a kiss on the lips this time.

“I like cooking,” Emily says. “I like cooking for you. It’s how I can show you I care.”

Spencer’s features soften then, all warm and soft and Emily is giddy with the knowledge that she’s the one getting that look.

“I can think of a few other ways you can show me that,” Spencer says, and she intertwines their fingers together.

The door opens with a bang, then, before either Spencer or Emily can disentangle their bodies, and Hanna and Aria schlep into the house. They pause, look at the compromising position Emily and Spencer are in and then Hanna pushes a bakery box across the table.

“Thank god I got breakfast,” she says. “Clearly your hands were a little busy.”

And then she and Aria sit at the counter, talking about their week as if nothing new happened, utterly unfazed, and Emily giggles in spite of herself.

“Hungry?” Spencer asks.

Emily nods, and they pull up two more stools to the island, still sitting close enough that they can lean against each other as they sip their coffee and dig into the pastries that Hanna brought over.

#spemily #spencer hastings #emily fields #this is. some fluffy shit. #pll #fics

[wintaer-bear]

goldilocks and the three bears of truth

jimin’s in love with you, but like... not that in love with you. or conversely, men that have all the audacity but none of the emotional intelligence!

“No, no, no. Please don’t do that,” Taehyung hushes as he brings his more than big enough hands to your cheeks. You raise your gaze to meet his and his heart hits the floor. He knew you were upset, that much was obvious, what with you throwing the entire contents of the buffet table at him and ruining his Versace tux. He knew you were upset - that was fair. But never did it dawn on him that you were going to cry! It wasn’t fair that you were so pretty when he was trying to break up with you. “Please don’t cry.”

His words mean nothing... all men do is lie and you cry anyway, unmatched foundation leaving tear tracks down your face.

“Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” You’ve never put on make up before, let alone own a bottle of Fenty, but you were too shy to ask the MUA at Sephora if they had some more opened samples in the back because like hell were you going to pay $35 for the entire bottle. You were desperate that much was true, what with Taehyung springing on prom at the last minute because turns out he was grounded but not like grounded grounded, but you were too smart to be both broke and desperate. You just picked the sample shade one lighter and hoped no one would notice. How were you supposed to know to blend all the way down to the neck? And what was it the mean girls said? Something about flashback?

"Why did you ask me to prom if you didn’t actually want me to come with you? Better yet, why did you ask me to be your girlfriend? You’re mean Taehyung! Just like the rest of your piss for brain friends. Mean!” You’re tearing off your own gas station corsage and slinging it at him. You wish it made you feel better, but it doesn’t. You just wanted him to hurt like you were hurting.

You should have known better. Should have seen it coming. Taehyung was everything your dad told you stay away from. He was head of the art club and missed homeroom too often, but he never got in trouble for it because, we’ll he could smile he way through anything. Your guarded heart included. He literally, got along with everyone, was nice to everyone. You just happened to sit next to him one day.

“__,” he says weakly, picking up the half torn flowers from the pavement. “I... It’s not like that. I didn’t ask -” 

The boy in the shiny sequin dress jacket stops himself because while he knew he was a class A jerk, he wasn’t going to kick someone while they were down. Taehyung wasn’t about to dig himself a deeper grave with the sheriff’s daughter by telling you that he didn’t actually ask you to prom... he had just briefly mentioned that his parents hadn’t grounded for selling the entire contents of their wine cellar when they found out all the proceeds were going towards the  Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. 

“Save it,” you say sniffling and grabbing the what’s left of the corsage from his hands and ripping what feels like your entire heart into pieces, what’s left of it anyway. “I don’t care. Jimin was right. You are a Gemini.”

“I don’t know what that means” he says with vehemence, “but I’ve never been to the gym in my entire life and Jimin’s an asshole so -” 

"He's my best friend." You deadpan and cross you arms around your chest. He could break your heart but you wouldn't give him the power to break your carefully forged friendship with Jimin.

"And obviously in love with you so take everything he says about with me a grain a salt."

“Yeah, and you’re a Black Moon Lilith in Gemini and that alone trumps all your good traits. You’re basically 90% fickle with a dash of cunning, but I didn’t know cunning was just the elongated word of cunt.” You emphasize the last words, mostly because you’re hurt, but also because you’re angry and you’re not sure when you’ll get another chance to tell Kim Taehyung off again. “I mean... do you even like me? You  haven’t even done as much as hold my hand since you’ve asked me out.”

“I just asked you out on Monday!”

“Oh come on, Taehyung,” you drag, angry and finding all the hurtful words in your vocabulary. “It’s not like you’re shy! I’ve seen your tongue down so many girls throats you’d think its the cure to lung cancer.” 

“That’s different,” he winces. “And not fair.”

“Not fair?” You repeat, suddenly realizing this was all going in circles. You’ve liked Taehyung for the better of...like, forever. He was so perfect. Almost. He gets the endings of movies wrong and forgets his car keys too often, but Taehyung had a nice smile and ate all his veggies, was a little weird when it came to public speaking but who isn’t? Taehyung was every girl’s dream and... and avoided you like the plague up until you grew tits your senior year because no one wants to bone the sheriff’s daughter. 

No, you were never invited to keg parties or homecomings. Not even your own best gal pals like to hang out with you in broad day light. You had to learn the status quo on your own so shave an eagle and call it bald, you about had a conniption when Taehyung sat down next to you in AP Bio. 

“I like your hair clips,” he said causally. At this point, you weren't even sure he knew you existed. He sits and sports that grin you’ve been familiar with since grade school. The “I’m not in trouble you are” look. “They match your scrunchie.”

And by the end of the period you wonder how it escalated so quickly. Taehyung turned from being your lab mate to your soulmate in less than 90 minutes and you weren’t even mad about it. He was comfortable, he was warm and it was so easy to smile in front of him.

“Not fair?” You say again. “Mules are doomed to be both the genesis and the doom of their hybrid lineage because they're born sterile. That's unfair. No Taehyung this," you point back and forth between the three feet of air between you two "isn't unfair. This is the result of you doing what you do best and acting on a whim instead of examining if there’s going to be repercussions or if you'll hurt someone along the way. I was fine on my own! I had a plan and if you weren't going to be part of it, the least you could of done was to stay out of my way." You run out of air and you hate it because it gives him exactly one second to come back with a counter argument.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

And you believe him. Because Taehyung wouldn't be dumb enough to ask you to prom on purpose or mean enough to invite you just to overhear him talking about breaking up with you because "you were just too much."

"No one ever means to hurt anyone, Taehyung. Doesn't make the hurt any less," you breathe. You want to hurt him too. Why does he get to walk away unscathed? "Or the perpetrator any less guilty. You're a bad guy Taehyung,” you bite you lower lip to refrain from crying, but it comes out in sobs anyway. “And I hope someone breaks your heart."

You break away and immediately feel the lost of warmth. You didn't realize how close he was to you until he wasn't.

"You okay?" Jimin asks as you slam his passenger door shut. You don’t know how he knew to come get you. You had expected him to be on the other side of town doing God knows what at this hour, but somehow Jimin always knew. 

He leaves the car in park and turns to you when you don't immediately respond.

"I’m fine," you say, going to turn on the radio. He immediately switches it off. 

"Like just bombed your math test but your 6.0 GPA is still salvageable fine or ___ circa second grade with a blister on her hand doing the monkey bars fine?"

"For the the last time I beat you fair and square but I see you’re still eating my dust a decade later with that tone Park."

"Also for the last time. I let you win because you cried when the blister popped on bar three. I practically carried you on my back the rest of the way."

"Did not."

"I still have the scar on forehead where you stepped on me." He pulls back his hair and shoves said forehead in your face. 

"The floor was lava." You shrug.

“Yeah, so is Kim Taehyung, but we’re not ready to talk about that are we?”

It wasn’t a secret that Jimin wasn’t fond of Taehyung. They just ran with different crowds. Always have. Where as Taehyung was president of the art club and volunteering at parks and recreations, Jimin was deciding whether or not to smoke the last ounce of weed he had in his back pocket or to sell it for profit so he could buy a an extra dessert for lunch tomorrow.

“Just as ready as you are to talk about the court summoning I found in hidden in your glove compartment.” 

Jimin sends you a look and if you didn’t know him for the last decade, you’d miss the sliver of shock written on his otherwise impenetrable and cocky face. Jimin gives a low whistle. 

“You could have just said no, but I see I don’t need to worry. 2021 Bitchy ___ is here to put up the walls and save the day. No need for niceties then,” he pins you with a look as he turns the ignition and does that thing boys do where they reverse the car all passively aggressively and hot. “I fucking told you so. I told you Taehyung was out for one thing and one thing only. He’s nothing but a player and -”

“I do not put up walls!” You interrupt and it catches Jimin off guard, he was ready for his Taehyung hating dissertation, to be the best friend you needed and to talk shit about your ex. Jimin was already in the drive thru line to order one of everything off the dollar menu. He was not, however, prepared for whatever the hell this was. 

You’re crying, uncontrollably so, and rubbing your eyes with your palms in his seat. It’s ruining your make up but Jimin has never seen you any more beautiful. He’s never seen you so vulnerable as you hiccup to keep the sadness from escaping your very breath.

“And I’m not bitchy. I’m not sorry I don’t have mommy issues and feel the need to please everyone in her absence. I’m especially not sorry that I’m way too smart to get conned into losing my virginity because I think I’m in love. I’m not. But why can’t I be? Hmm?” And Jimin thinks it’s question for him before you continue.

“Why can’t Taehyung come to me if he’s got a problem with me? If he thought I was,” you air quote, “too much,” end air quote, “then why hang out with me?” You turn you back against the window so you can face Jimin head on, and Jimin wonders why the line is so backed up tonight of all nights. “Why even talk to me in the first place? What? Was I not what he was expecting? Am I too opinionated? Too loud? Too... god, I don’t know? Myself?”

"What?” Jimin says flabbergasted, and takes his yes off the car halted in from of him to make sure he’s hearing this right. Jimin can’t say you were the type run on emotions, but you have also never had a chance to react to such... turbulence. You’ve always been so reserved and in control, a defense mechanism he’s sure you’ve developed over time as the black sheep of the town. He knew you were dumb but he didn’t know you were dumb enough to think it was your fault that Kim Taehyung didn’t like you. 

“Tell me the truth Jimin,” you deadpan. “Am I...,” and you struggle to get out the last part without crying. “Too much?”

“Yes,” he thinks. Completely, utterly, and without a doubt, you were too much. 

You were too good for Taehyung. And too kind. And too pretty. In the winters, you were too warm and your cookies were too soft, your shampoo smelled too clean. You were too good at Catan... and you were...god... too perfect.

Jimin didn’t mean to fall in love with you. Just like he didn’t mean to kiss you the way he is now. Desperately and fervently, like it’s his first time kissing to put someone’s clothes on instead of off. But he doesn’t know how else to stop your thoughts from wandering. He doesn’t know how else to bring you back to the light where you belong. He didn’t want to see you cry. Jimin didn’t like it when you were hurt. But he especially didn’t like that you thought any less of yourself because of a boy.

Jimin takes it upon himself when you don’t immediately pull away and he wishes he would have just taken you home because now his plans were ruined.

There was a plan. Jimin had a plan. 

You were going to go away to college and he was going to get a trade job. You’d come back to visit your dad for the holidays and Jimin would by default pick you up from the airport. He was a patient man. He had it all planned out. The two of you would skip the petty fights that came with individuals growing together and out pacing one another. It was easier that way. The two of you would just meet each other at the end. Jimin wasn’t willing to risk losing you in finding himself in these next few years.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Jimin didn’t want to rush it. He didn’t want to spook you with how much he wanted this, wanted you. Jimin knew. Whether it be ten years from now or several heartbreaks later, Jimin knew he’d accept you any way you came to him. But never in a 100 years he think you’d come like this. Broken and inconsolable in tears. 

“I -” he starts to lie. “I’m high.” 

“Men,” you scoff. “Men have all the audacity but none of the emotional intelligence. Jimin, your court summon is for a urine analysis so you really expect me to believe you’d shoot up and get high right before they’re about to break that beeper on your ankle? Even I know you’re not that desperate for a fix.”

He wishes you were right. You were the hardest drug he’s had and he’s wished he just stay clean because it physically hurt him to see how intangible you are right now. Even in your elaborate scheme to get another man to fall in love with you tonight, Jimin couldn’t help but want you more. You were exactly who you needed to be and he wanted nothing more than to protect that.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” you say with patience you’ve all but scraped up off the floor. “Jimin, do. you. like. me? Like, like like me?”

It wouldn’t be lie if he said no. He doesn’t just like you. Jimin is dumbfoundedly in love with you. He’s so deep in your pussy-sand without actually being in your pants that he wouldn’t know his left from his right.

Jimin debates with himself whether it’s worth the physical distance that awaits him if he denies you or if it’s worth the psychological and emotional damage that will come in confirming your suspicion. You were too good for him, that much was evident, but how was he going to make you believe that?

“___, I-”

“Welcome to McDonald’s, may I take your order?”

“Yeah, I’d like a large order of FACTS please,” you spit out. 

“Sure, a order or fries. What else can I do for you?”

“Maybe a double quarter pounder with a side of truth?”

“I’m sorry, did you say juice?”

You don’t mean to take it out on the employee behind the window. She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time when then you realize it’s HER workplace and perhaps you’re making it awkward but you were so hurt, and so confused, and you needed someone to take it out on and Jimin wasn’t helping, what with wallowing in his silence.

“$6.78 at the window.”

Jimin doesn’t know how to fix it. The entire drive back to your house and he can’t come up with the right words to say. He fucked up and he’s so so so scared to lose you. 

#drafts #jimin drafts #bts drafts #park jimin

[liketolaugh-writes]

Improv Theater

Author: liketolaugh Summary:  I’m egging your house for a dare but your parent is a cop and they’re yelling at me, so I told them that you were my ex and you wronged me. And now you’re coming outside and please go along with this i don’t want to go to jail- (Markus has many regrets.)

Here was the thing: Markus was mature for his age. It came with having an older brother like Leo, with taking over more and more of the household duties as his father’s health grew worse, with his own sharp attentiveness and growing awareness of the world.

Here was the other thing: Markus’ friends were absolute chaos fiends, and on good days, it was easy to get caught up in the flow of things, laughing until he was breathless, daring and running and arguing. It was easy to start it, even, when North was wild and defensive and desperate to stay away from home, and all he wanted was to wipe that scowl off his friend’s face.

If anyone asked, that was why he ignored Josh’s dismayed protests and went along with North’s desire to egg a random house about two blocks from hers. At two in the morning Halloween night.

Hopefully no one would ask.

Josh was covering his face and peeking through his fingers by the time they were halfway through the dozen; North was laughing, brazen and delighted, and Simon rolling an egg between his hands, giggling helplessly and probably working up the nerve to join in.

Markus was laughing, too, right up until he hit a window by accident, and someone appeared a few seconds later, examining first the splattered egg, and then looking over to meet Markus’ eyes, expression flat and unreadable.

Markus’ smile froze, and he stared back at the other – a boy maybe a year or two younger, distantly familiar the way most of the kids at school were, acne-speckled and face starting to scrunch in something like confusion. Or worse, hurt.

As if to highlight how bad this idea suddenly seemed, the front door of the house slammed open. The door had an egg on it. Luckily, the man who’d emerged was unlikely to notice that.

Unluckily, the man was fuming.

“You damn kids think you can just come here and throw shit at my house?” the man demanded, loud and with all the irritation of those woken in untimely manners. “I’m a goddamn police lieutenant! I can have you arrested for this!”

Josh’s elbow dug hard into Markus’ side, which was the moment at which he realized he was still staring at the boy in the window, whose head had tilted cutely, like a baby bird’s. Panic mixed with his lingering preoccupation, and Markus blurted out the first plausible excuse to come to mind.

“Your son and I were dating but he fucked up and I want revenge!”

That was an awful excuse. That was so easy to disprove. Why did he say that.

North started laughing again.

The policeman seemed to think so too, because he scowled at Markus, and then crossed his arms, leaned forward, and made intense eye contact with the boy in the window until the boy pushed it open and leaned out, quizzical.

“Do you know this kid?” the man demanded, sounding fed up with the entire situation already.

Markus’ heart pounded, paralyzed with fear, but, unexpectedly, the boy nodded. The police officer still looked unconvinced.

“Did you do something to him?” the man pushed, scowl unamused. “He says you were dating.” His voice dripped with skepticism.

Markus gave the boy a pleading look. He really, really didn’t want to have to explain this to Carl; the man had enough on his mind with how much he had to bail Leo out. Markus didn’t want Carl to worry about him too.

The boy blinked.

“I… forgot his birthday,” he said at last, slowly.

“You,” the man said slowly, in a voice indicative of great doubt, “forgot something.”

“Yes,” the boy agreed blandly.

Oh, hell. The lieutenant’s son was a bad liar.

“You didn’t even take my calls all day!” he snapped, trying to sound indignant enough to make the lie more convincing. “I hate you-” He didn’t know the boy’s name.

“Connor,” Josh whispered in his ear.

“Connor!” Markus parroted automatically, and then thought, oh hell, the policeman’s going to think I’m an idiot because I just shouted a random name.

“You and Connor,” the lieutenant said dubiously, “dated.”

What?

“And now I find out you didn’t even tell your dad about us!” Markus shouted at Connor, because he had no choice but to run with it now. “This is why I’m egging your house!”

He was still holding an egg, and he threw it at Connor for effect. Connor caught it.

“Sorry?” Connor offered, sounding unsure about it.

The police lieutenant still looked heavily unconvinced, but he was looking between Markus and Connor, brow furrowed and arms still crossed.

“And what’s your… ex… boyfriend’s name?” he asked, slow and suspicious.

“Markus,” Connor said.

“What,” Markus whispered.

“And when is Markus’ birthday?” the man asked, with increasing incredulity.

“March eighteenth,” Connor said, without even hesitating.

“What,” Markus repeated helplessly.

“He’s in our AP Government class,” Josh explained in an undertone, sounding tired and exasperated. “He had Calculus with us last year, too. I think he’s a sophomore.” Simon shot him an incredulous look, and Josh said, “I had a group project with him, okay?”

North was still laughing.

As if to increase the surreality of the occasion, someone appeared right by Connor, functionally identical to him save a much more irritated expression. Markus braced himself.

“Connor had a test the next day,” the other boy said, flat and disinterested. “You know he’s trying to graduate early. He couldn’t afford to fail.”

Connor turned his head to stare at his twin. So did just about everyone else.

The police lieutenant was rubbing his face now, as if to try and wake up. Markus felt kind of the same way.

“I had the same test!” Markus argued, feeling like he’d at some point fallen into an alternate universe without his awareness. “We could have studied together!”

Connor transferred his gaze back down, refocusing on Markus. His expression had barely changed the whole time, but he was smiling now, small and charmed. Like he was having fun, leaning against the windowsill from a floor up, arguing about a relationship that never happened.

“Your study music is loud,” Connor said mildly. “I can’t focus.”

“You could have said something!” Markus said petulantly, hamming it up a little to cross his arms and frown disapprovingly up at Connor.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Connor said.

“It was my birthday,” Markus argued with undue passion. “I wanted to see you!”

“Connor, you bastard!” North offered unhelpfully, through half-restrained cackles.

“Connor’s is August fifteenth,” the brother said in return, his focus as unwavering as Connor’s and much more disconcerting. “Where were you?”

“They’d broken up by then,” Simon jumped in, clearly invested now and a note of earnest protest in his voice. “You can’t hold him accountable for that.”

“Watch me,” the brother said.

Markus chanced a look at the lieutenant, but he couldn’t tell whether the man was buying it. He didn’t look angry anymore, at least – just exasperated and more tired by the second, hand over his eyes and shaking his head.

“He’s been sulking for months!” Simon said passionately. Too passionately. What the hell, Simon? “Have a heart!”

“He dumped my brother,” the brother said firmly. “If he wants mercy, he’ll have to beg for it.”

“That’s a little harsh, Nines,” Connor chided, glancing at his brother. “It was mutual.”

“It really wasn’t,” Josh said unexpectedly, and Markus shot him a betrayed look. Josh had the good grace to look apologetic.

“Please make up with him so we can go home,” Simon said to Markus.

“Not until Connor apologizes for ghosting Markus for a week and a half!” North jumped in, eyes bright with mischief.

“Sorry,” Connor said, sounding tired.

“Don’t apologize,” Nines objected, frowning at Connor. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” the police lieutenant said at last, unexpected enough to make Markus jump. “I’m going to bed. Stop egging my damn house.”

That said, he turned around and went back inside, the door slamming behind him. For a few moments, all of them stared at it, thrown off their rhythm by the sudden concession.

“…Did he believe us?” Markus ventured at last.

“No,” Connor said plainly. “He just decided it wasn’t worth the trouble.”

Oh. Well, that worked well enough.

“Okay,” Markus said at last, decisively. He stared up at Connor, suddenly awkward again, the other boy staring back down placidly. After the conversation they’d just had, he felt like he had to check. “You, uh. Know none of that was real, right?”

Nines snorted.

“While I definitely am bad enough with social cues to misunderstand my own relationship status, you and I have only spoken a few times,” Connor replied, sounding unoffended. “All of them were during class discussions. I’m aware we’re not dating.”

“Oh, thank God,” Markus said with feeling. He’d been starting to wonder. “Thanks for playing along.” Then, on impulse, “Want to make it real?”

Nines scoffed and ducked back inside. Beside Markus, North guffawed. Connor blinked at him.

“Okay,” Connor said at last.

Markus grinned back, relief setting in and making him feel light and pleased again. “Meet you at the front door after school tomorrow?”

“I’ll remember,” Connor said, and he was smiling again.

Apparently satisfied, he ducked back inside and shut the window. Markus turned back to his friends, grinning.

“How do you turn almost getting arrested into a date?” Josh demanded of him, sounding almost indignant. “I want to do that.”

“I never want to do that again,” Markus disagreed fervently. “…But at least I have a date.” Pause. “You can stop laughing any day now, North.”

“Not on your life!” she managed, cheeks flushed with delight. “Happy fucking Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween,” Simon agreed ruefully.

#connor #markus #rk1000 #dbh #detroit become human #simon #josh #north #hank anderson #nines #fanfiction #my writing

[scifigeneration]

How big will the coronavirus epidemic be? An epidemiologist updates his concerns

by Maciej F. Boni

A security guard wears gloves while holding a basketball during halftime of an NBA game in Houston on March 5, 2020. The NBA has told players to avoid high-fiving fans and to avoid taking any item for autographs. AP Photo/David J. Phillip

The Harvard historian Jill Lepore recounted recently in The New Yorker magazine that when democracies sink into crisis, the question “where are we going?” leaps to everyone’s mind, as if we were waiting for a weather forecast to tell us how healthy our democracy was going to be tomorrow. Quoting Italian philosopher Benedetto Croce, Lepore writes that “political problems are not external forces beyond our control; they are forces within our control. We need solely to make up our own minds and to act.”

And so it is with the coronavirus epidemic. How big will this epidemic be? How many people will it infect? How many Americans will die? The answers to these questions are not written in stone. They are partially within our control, assuming we are willing to take the responsibility to act with commitment, urgency and solidarity.

I am an epidemiologist with eight years of field experience, including time on the front lines of the isolation and quarantine efforts during the 2009 swine flu pandemic. One month ago, I was under the impression that the death reports due to COVID-19 circulation in China were giving us an unfair picture of its mortality rate. I wrote a piece saying that the death rate of an emerging disease always looks bad in the early stages of an outbreak, but is likely to drop once better data become available. After waiting for eight weeks, I am now worried that these new data – data indicating that the virus has a low fatality rate – may not arrive.

Young passengers wear masks on a high-speed train in Hong Kong, Wednesday, Jan. 22, 2020. At that time, it was hard to know how dangerous the virus would be. (AP Photo/Kin Cheung) AP Photo/Kin Cheung

Case fatality rate and infection fatality rate

By Jan. 31 2020, China had reported a total of 11,821 cases of COVID-19 and 259 deaths; that’s about a 2% case fatality rate. Two weeks later, the tally had risen to more than 50,000 cases and 1,524 deaths, corresponding to about 3% case fatality (the rise in the case fatality is expected as deaths always get counted later than cases). For an easily transmissible disease, a 2% or 3% fatality rate is extremely dangerous.

However, case fatality rates are computed using the officially reported numbers of 11,821 cases or 50,000 cases, which only include individuals who (a) experience symptoms; (b) decide that their symptoms are bad enough to merit a hospital visit; and (c) choose a hospital or clinic that is able to test and report cases of coronavirus.

Surely, there must have been hundreds of thousands cases, maybe a million cases, that had simply gone uncounted.

First, some definitions from Steven Riley at Imperial College. The infection fatality rate (IFR) gives the probability of dying for an infected person. The case fatality rate (CFR) gives the probability of dying for an infected person who is sick enough to report to a hospital or clinic. CFR is larger than IFR, because individuals who report to hospitals are typically more severely ill.

If China’s mid-February statistic of 1,524 deaths had occurred from 1 million infections of COVID-19 (counting all symptomatic and asymptomatic infections), this would mean that the virus had an infection fatality rate of 0.15%, about three times higher than seasonal influenza virus; this is a concern but not a crisis.

The IFR is much more difficult to estimate than the CFR. The reason is that it is hard to count people who are mildly ill or who show no symptoms at all. If you are able to count and test everybody – for example, on a cruise ship, or in a small community – then you may be able to paint a picture of what fraction of infections are asymptomatic, mild, symptomatic and severe.

Scientists working at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, Imperial College London and the Institute for Disease Modeling have used these approaches to estimate the infection fatality rate. Currently, these estimates range from 0.5% to 0.94% indicating that COVID-19 is about 10 to 20 times as deadly as seasonal influenza. Evidence coming in from genomics and large-scale testing of fevers is consistent with these conclusions. The only potentially good news is that the epidemic in Korea may ultimately show a lower CFR than the epidemic in China.

A quarantined cruise ship in Japan at the Yokohama Port in Yokohama, near Tokyo, Feb. 9, 2020. Cruise and airline bookings are down as a result of the coronavirus. AP Photo/Eugene Hoshiko

Impact of the epidemic in the US

Now that new COVID-19 cases are being detected in the U.S. every day, it is too late to stop the initial wave of infections. The epidemic is likely to spread across the U.S. The virus appears to be about as contagious as influenza. But this comparison is difficult to make since we have no immunity to the new coronavirus.

On balance, it is reasonable to guess that COVID-19 will infect as many Americans over the next year as influenza does in a typical winter – somewhere between 25 million and 115 million. Maybe a bit more if the virus turns out to be more contagious than we thought. Maybe a bit less if we put restrictions in place that minimize our travel and our social and professional contacts.

The bad news is, of course, that these infection numbers translate to 350,000 to 660,000 people dying in the U.S., with an uncertainty range that goes from 50,000 deaths to 5 million deaths. The good news is that this is not a weather forecast. The size of the epidemic, i.e., the total number of infections, is something we can reduce if we decrease our contact patterns and improve our hygiene. If the total number of infections decreases, the total number of deaths will also decrease.

What science cannot tell us right now is exactly which measures will be most effective at slowing down the epidemic and reducing its impact. If I stop shaking hands, will that cut my probability of infection by a half? A third? Nobody knows. If I work from home two days a week, will this reduce my probability of infection by 40%? Maybe. But we don’t even know the answer to that.

What we should prepare for now is reducing our exposures – i.e., our chances of coming into contact with infected people or infected surfaces – any way that we can. For some people this will mean staying home more. For others it will mean adopting more stringent hygiene practices. An extreme version of this exposure reduction – including mandatory quarantine, rapid diagnosis and isolation, and closing of workplaces and schools – seems to have worked in Hubei province in China, where the epidemic spread appears to have slowed down.

For now, Americans need to prepare themselves that the next 12 months are going to look very different. Vacations may have to be canceled. Social interactions will look different. And risk management is something we’re going to have to think about every morning when we wake up. The coronavirus epidemic is not going to extinguish itself. It is not in another country. It is not just the cold and flu. And it is not going away.

About The Author:

Maciej F. Boni is Associate Professor of Biology, Pennsylvania State University

This article is republished from our content partners over at The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. 

#science #medicine #covid-19 #coronavirus

[asexualbert]

#NewsiesQuarantineProject

Week 3, day 3!

This is really just the BEGINNING of a thing. But I don't know if the thing will ever get compleated so...🤷

Ship: Albert/JoJo

JoJo looked around the mostly empty lab, trying to decide on the best seat. He knew well enough how a high-school worked; you pick a seat the first day and that becomes your seat for the rest of the semester. He assumed that was the same in public schools.

He eyed the front row distastefully. His aunt would want him front and center, to soak up all that good learning or whatever it was she thought happened up there that didn't happen in the back other than the board being a little blurry.

Screw what Meridith would want. She wasn't here anyway. He liked physics and had no interest in wearing his reading glasses anymore than he had to.

He took a seat in the back of the room, satisfied. He knew it was kind of pathetic as far as acts of rebellion went, but his aunt was good to him and she'd never really given him much reason to rebel against her anyway. It was more the principal of the thing. Independence. He was nearly eighteen, he should be able to make his own decisions.

"Hey! Watch yourself! You're gonna pull out the new one!"

"Well that's what you get for piercing something in my swinging range!"

"Everything's in your swinging range noodle arms!"

JoJo had just pulled out his notebook and begun doodling absently when he heard the two laughing voices from the hallway. He didn't intend to eavesdrop but they were loud and his doodling wasn't particularly captivating anyway.

"You're so mean to me! I don't know why I keep hanging out with you, I should just dump your right now."

"Well if you do that, then you won't have anyone's basement to live in when the whole kid genius thing proves to be a total sham."

"I'll live with Jack."

"The art major?"

"Valid point. I guess we'll have to keep you around, he'll need a basement too."

"Well then I'll just have to get rich and buy a really big house for you two to mooch. Shouldn't be too hard. Not rocket science. Oh, wait."

"Yeah yeah. Get to class NASA," the second voice was laughing and JoJo looked up just in time to a boy backing into the classroom, hands up in surrender, laughing at his friend.

"I'm goin' I'm goin'."

The boy tuned around, shoving his hands into his pockets and... Crap. He was really attractive.

He was also everything Aunt Meridith would want him to avoid. If one were to open his aunt's personal dictionary to "bad influence" there would be a giant picture of this exact boy.

As far has JoJo could tell, there wasn't anything wrong with him really. He would just be much too... Alternative for his aunt's tastes, as she would put it. He was wearing a dark green snapback backwards and JoJo could just see bright red hair that was buzzed on the left side, showing off about five piercings in his left ear. He was wearing an extremely flattering black leather jacket, with patches all over the sleeves and back.

He snapped his eyes back to his page. Meridith was always telling him, no girls until he was out of school. He had to focus.

He'd always assumed the same rule applied to boys. And for boys with spiky earrings and chains on their belts? Well, the time rule was probably extended to "never."

That didn't mean he couldn't look though. Maybe this guy would sit somewhere that gave him a good view. He kept an eye on him without looking up from his page. He didn't want to everyone to know he was watching a hot guy choose a seat. And he definitely didn't need Leather Jacket to catch him looking.

But as is Murphy's law...

He glanced up, to see where the guy had ended up since the last time he'd looked barely a second before to find him walking straight in his direction. So as not to look like the creep staring at a stranger in the middle of a physics classroom, he averted his eyes again, hoping the guy was going towards a corner or something, and would pass quickly. For a second he thought that was exactly what was happening, until a tattered black backpack was tossed down next to him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Albert DaSilva, as he'd found out was his name, turned out to be the absolute worst.

As suspected, the seats they'd chosen had become pretty permanent, and with a full class, JoJo had found himself sitting next to the leather clad asshat for the past two and a half weeks.

Albert hadn't said or done anything specifically wrong he supposed. But he sat there everyday, in an AP physics class. A class for good, dedicated students who actually cared about what was being taught and who would put in an effort and didn't just pull out their phones and fool around and barely take notes because Albert couldn't possibly be writing anything of substance since he looked at his notebook maybe twice per class.

The guy just bugged him.

And the worst part was that he never seemed to be struggling in the class. Despite the fact that he spent all his class time on his phone, fooling around, napping, staring at JoJo like he knew something he didn't, or asking ridiculous questions that would have nothing to do with the topic of the lesson, he always seemed to do well on tests, always had the answers to questions he was asked... It was infuriating.

Well... Maybe that wasn't the worst part, he thought as he glared subtly at the boy sitting next to him, smirking at his phone and paying absolutely no attention to the teacher. The worst part was that he really was insanely attractive. And now there was just no way that was fair!

"Alright, looks like we're running a little close here so we'll leave it there for today and pick up right away tomorrow. I'm not going to say you have to because I know most of you won't, but if anyone's interested, take a look over pages 178-182, it should give you a little extra information and get you ahead a little. Have a good day guys."

The teacher's voice snapped him back to attention as she wrapped up the class. He glanced down at his notes,

"Shit..." He'd missed a pretty decent chunk.

He quickly scribbled down the homework, it couldn't hurt to get ahead and maybe the reading would help fill in gaps in his notes. He stood to collect his things, very intentionally not looking at stupid Albert DaSilva with his stupid devil may care attitude and the stupid way he made JoJo miss so much of the stupid note, and started making his way back to his locker.

#newsiesquarantineproject #watchwhathappensfromafar

[writehardwhumpharder]

First Fic!!

Hey everyone, I finally finished my first fanfic! It took a while to get over the writer's block and stop trying to make everything perfect. I decided to start with my fav whumpee, Peter Parker, right after the bite when he goes through the transformation and he's still vulnerable and clueless to what is happening to him. So here it is, I think I'll just keep writing and posting fics and hope that the blog makes itself from there.

Ned jogged up to Peter on their way to the bus. The field trip was only an hour and a half long but his friend already had so much to say to him.

"Peter! Pete, did you see that exhibit on DNA mutation? It was amazing wasn't it? Too bad all the girls wouldn't stop screaming at the spiders, I could barely hear our guide."

"Oh I got you, you can look over my notes. The assignment is due tomorrow." Peter offered.

"Thanks, man." Ned smiled. Usually that was enough to put Peter in a better mood but today he was dragging his feet.

"Mmhmm." He mumbled as they found their seat on the bus. Ned kept going on about some new sci-fi show but Peter couldn't pay attention. He rubbed his neck absentmindedly. At some point at the end of the tour it started to itch, maybe even sting a little. He debated whether or not to mention it but decided it wasn't important. He pulled out his notes for his friend and went to immediately lean his head against the window. The cold glass soothed an ache he didn't know he had. The bus ride back to Midtown High was only 20 minutes, so they'll probably get back during third period. He groaned, it's not even lunch yet.

"Did you.. want to take a nap? I can wake you up when we get back." Ned said cautiously, seeing how tired Peter looked. Peter was never very good at telling people when something was wrong with him.

"Huh? No, I'm good. What were you saying?" He said, straightening up in his seat. Immediately regretting the sudden movement when a sharp pain started behind his temples. He grimaced before he could stop himself. Ned was definitely worried now, but for his sake pretended not to notice.

The next few minutes passed by in a blur and the headache only seemed to get worse. Peter resolved to wait until lunch then get some caffeine and aspirin. He just had to get through AP History first.

The bus came to a stop just outside the school. The slight jolt sent an unexpected wave of nausea through him. He blinked slowly to get his bearings then followed Ned off the bus to head to third period.

"Dude, aren't you going to grab your backpack?" Ned asked.

"Hmm?" Peter questioned, completely unaware. Ned sighed and grabbed both bags like the dutiful friend he is.

"Nevermind..." Ned went as far as to carry his bag until they got to Peter's next class. Ned would be in a different class but MJ would be there and he knew she'd keep an eye on him. Peter dazedly accepted his backpack when Ned held if out to him and walked into the classroom. Ned was still a little concerned but he was probably just tired like usual.

Peter quietly made his way to his seat, so not to disturb to teacher's lecture. MJ sat a few seats behind him, pretending to be absorbed in a book. He got out his notebook to make it at least look like he was paying attention. He needed some coffee and he needed it now. May didn't exactly approve of this but the school sold it at lunch so it couldn't be that bad, right? He rested his head on his arm, the teacher droned on and on and soon he felt his eyes closing. The light was starting to hurt his eyes but he forced them back open again when something hit his arm. A wadded up ball of paper landed by his feet. Leaning over to pick it up he felt that pang of nausea again. Maybe it was time to consider that he might actually be sick. He took a deep breath and it waited a moment for it to subside then flattened the paper.

"Are you okay?" - MJ

He wasn't feeling great but he didn't feel any worse than when he pulled an all nighter finishing a paper. He offered her a weak thumbs up without turning around. Class was almost over, he just had to make it through lunch then take his Calc. test, if he still felt bad then he'd go home.

He must have been dozing off when the bell rang. He lifted his head off his desk quickly, rubbing his eyes a little. His neck didn't itch anymore, that's progress. Peter tried to get out of the room before MJ could question him but she caught up with him easily. She fell into step beside him and gave a piercing glare.

"You didn't answer my question." She said pointedly. He sighed as they turned the corner toward the cafeteria.

"I'm just tired, and what's your deal today? I'm literally always sleep deprived." Peter said defensively.

"Have you looked at yourself? You're paler than that one day when you-"

"Alright, point made. But I swear I'm not sick."

"Fine, I don't really care anyway. But I don't believe you for a second." MJ turned and walked away toward her locker, masking her concern with annoyance.

Ned waved to him when he stepped into the cafeteria and Peter headed toward their usual table near the corner. Ned's smile faded when he saw him, despite Peter's attempts to seem normal and happy. Or at least not as lethargic as he really feels.

"Heyyy... Peter.. you okay, bro?" Ned asked when he sat down, sliding a styrofoam cup towards him. Coffee, thank god.

"I'm fine, really. I just have to get through my Calc. test then if I'm still tired I'll text May, okay?" Peter said, sipping the hot coffee graciously. He didn't notice at first but holding that hot coffee made him realize how cold he was. He shivered slightly.

MJ sat down at the table a few feet away, scribbling away at something by herself. Some days she sat with them, but most of the time she preferred to be alone. Peter pulled out his notebook and pathetic sandwich, intending on studying a bit more before his next class. Ned started talking about some robotics thing and Peter tried to listen. He even gave some suggestions on the design. But suddenly Ned stopped talking. Peter didn't look up until a red drop fell on the paper he was working on.

"Peter, your-" Ned pointed at his own nose. Peter quickly brought a hand up to it to see that it was in fact, starting to bleed.

"This dry winter air, man..." He said with nastily voice, trying to play it off. The napkin he held up to it wasn't doing a very good job containing the mess. Ned was visibly worried now. No way was this a coincidence. MJ looked up then and raised her eyebrows when she saw the blood. Her book snapped closed and for a second she just stared at them. Feeling their eyes on him he got up and started heading towards the bathroom. Other students gave him strange looks as he staggered through the cafeteria trying to keep the blood from getting on his sweatshirt. Ned scrambled to keep up with him and he barely had time to lock himself in a stall before Ned followed him into the bathroom. He grabbed some fresh toilet paper to staunch the flow and took a deep breath as panic began to set in.

"I'm fine, Ned. This happens all the time, leave me alone." He said, trying not to snap at his friend.

"I've known you since we were six and this is not normal. Really, just come out and we'll go to the nurse okay?" Ned pleaded. Peter just leaned against the wall and put a hand on his knee. He was starting to feel a bit lightheaded to tell the truth. He felt himself drifting away from reality just a little bit. He was just panicking, everything is okay. Knowing Ned was just outside the stall was comforting and he let himself close his eyes for a moment. The bleeding had mostly stopped but he wasn't feeling any better. The fatigue was starting to get to him, and he was hesitant to leave his spot by the toilet, just in case the nausea came back, but he reluctantly agreed to let Ned take him to the nurse.

He was running out of excuses and each second left him feeling more detached. Ned hovered anxiously around his friend. Peter caught a look at himself in the mirror and understood what everyone was talking about. His skin was deathly pale and a thin layer of sweat was forming on his neck. His skin was red and flushed on his cheeks and neck where he had that bump earlier. He found himself leaning heavily on the sink as a dizzy spell washed over him. Ned was trying to get his attention and despite how much he wanted to sink down to the floor right there he figured he should get to the nurse before this got any worse. Maybe this was some kind of allergic reaction.

"Wait... what about our bags, my phone, I need to text..." he trailed off before his words could start slurring together. Ned grabbed his shoulder and steered him towards the door.

"Don't worry about it." To his surprise, MJ was already standing out in the hallway with a small pile of backpacks at her feet.

"Peter, what's going on?" She asked as Ned grabbed their things. They both looked at him like he might fall over at any second. He crossed his arms and shrunk into himself with discomfort.

"Uh... he doesn't feel very good." Ned added before turning back to his friend. Peter screwed his eyes shut, the florescent lights suddenly too much for him. "Come on." He urged.

Peter tried to take a step and faltered. "I don't... I think I should..." he threw a hand out to the wall and tried to sit down. Ned caught his elbow and helped lower him to the floor.

At that moment, students starting filtering out into the hallway. Flash turned the corner toward them.

"What's wrong Parker?" He sneered, "you gonna hurl?"

Peter made no attempt to answer him, only vaguely aware of his surroundings.

"We don't have time for this." Ned said, hauling his friend to his feet, determined to get him to the office before the hallway filled with any more people. Peter managed to stay on his feet but his head lolled forward onto his chest. Things had really taken a turn for the worse and any hope that this was some minor illness was long abandoned. Flash stopped laughing when he saw how serious it really was. Peter's feet dragged, lazily trying to keep up.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" MJ barked, "help them." Her tone left no room to argue. Flash groaned but ran ahead to get the nurse.

Peter was pretty sure that he was about to die of embarrassment. Ned helped him walk slowly towards to the office but it was becoming clear that they weren't going to get there. It was getting harder to see and hear let alone put one foot in front of the other. Darkness clouded his vision and for a brief second he felt like he was going to throw up before the darkness claimed him completely.

Peter went slack in Ned's arms, and he did his best lower his friend to the ground gently. Seconds later he stiffened again and started to shake.

Ned felt tears running down his face before he was really aware of them. MJ shrieked, as did a few other people at the sight before them. Flash finally returned with the nurse just as Peter started seizing. The rest was chaos as they waited for the paramedics to arrive.

---

His hands closed around the soft blanket. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't in his own bed. Something was different. He blinked his eyes open, only to be assaulted by blinding bright lights. His head hurt, actually, everything hurt. He moaned quietly. Aunt May rushed to Peter's side.

"Ben, turn the lights off, they're bothering him." May said as Peter started to stir. With the lights off it was a lot easier to open his eyes, his Aunt hovered in his vision. "That's great Peter, open your eyes for me." She said soothingly.

"What happened?" His voice croaked. May's fingers combed through his hair gently and uncle Ben stood just to the right of her, resting a hand on his calf.

"You've been in the hospital for a few days so take it slow. The doctors still aren't sure what happened. Do you remember collapsing at school, sweetie?" Peter's eyes widened.

"No.." he whispered, "oh god, what did they see?"

"Well the nurse said that you basically passed out in the hallway and had a seizure, then an ambulance brought you here. Ned told us you weren't feeling well before that." May said. He remembered the field trip and feeling crummy but that's about it. "Ned really wants to see you, if you're up for it."

"Sure." Peter was dead tired but he felt he owed it to him after doing so much to help. Ben slipped out into the hallway to fetch him and Peter fought to keep his eyes open.

Ned beamed when he walked in, May left to give them a minute to talk. " I can't tell you how happy I am to see you awake, bro, you really scared us. How do you feel?" Ned asked.

"I don't know, fine but... somehow different." said Peter.

#whump #sickfic #peterparker #collapse #seizure #fanfic #IhopeIpostedthisright

[madnadidraw]

Parents/Caregivers Take Note:

It is currently 12:15 AM at the time of me beginning to write this. 

The night before this post, I tried to make a text after 11 PM  (it was at 11:10 PM to be exact) and found that my phone would not send the text. I then received a text from my cellular service provider (CSP) stating that “Your phone has been restricted by the account owner. You cannot send messages until the time of day restriction ends”. The very first thing I did was screenshot it, send it to my mom (because I knew it was her that had done this), and asked if she was serious, and why? She was hoping it would help me go to bed sooner, but added that she had started it as of a week or so ago. I replied that this could only hurt my situation.

Why? Because I stay up until very late, the absolute earliest I go to bed is 2 AM and that is rare. I usually end up falling asleep at 4 AM, or I don’t sleep at all. Why? Because I have chronic nightmares that leave me waking up unable to get out of bed in time for school. Why? Because I have been through traumatic experiences, and every time I dream I relive those experiences. Just mentioning my dreams is breaking me close to a breakdown, but this post is important.

My mom is aware of all of the above information 

Turning off my texting and calling abilities only meant I could not reach out to any type of mental health professionals (specifically the ones I use), usually not something I’d need, but important in a crisis. Here’s where we get to the important bit, crises. Catastrophic breakdowns. Ones that greatly inhibit my ability to do much of anything, or at least specific tasks.

It is currently 12:27 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 12 minutes.

At 11:04pm I open up Snapchat, the app I use to message everybody I am relatively close to, excluding family, to respond to a text from my partner. It does not go through. I try again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. I try all kinds of social media again, and again and again. And Again Nothing Again Nothing Again Nothing Again Nothing Again Nothing Again Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. No. Thing. At all. I am locked out. Now. Now I’m in crisis. For the past hour and a half I have been riding the waves of “IM HAVING A BREAKDOWN” and “I cannot shut down I have work to do”. I have done nothing but cope for the past hour and a half, yet I am still trying to do work before I fall asleep. I am currently on my desktop, rather than a mobile device in bed, to avoid falling asleep. 

It is currently 12:36 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 21 minutes. 

Why? Because I have a test tomorrow, a test which I have to teach myself content for due to extreme amounts of absences. A test I cannot afford to get any less than an A on, as grades close quite soon for this quarter. A quarter I cannot afford to fail (or receive less than an A on), because then I’ll be stressed for all of next quarter, because this is the only AP level or college level course that I have had an A in this year, all year. An A I promised myself I would get, because last year I constantly rode the line of a high C and a low B. I ended up getting a C first semester, and a B second semester. The C was a result of my traumatic experiences, and I promised I wouldn’t let that affect my math grade ever again, because math has always been one of my strongest classes. One of the strongest reasons I had been admitted to my dream school. Failing this test? Not an option. So, since I got home from school, finished dinner, and grounded and isolated myself (7 PM) I had been working on studying for this test. That’s four straight hours of studying, which is extremely abnormal, as I rarely do any assignments, much less studying. But at 11:04 PM that all stopped. Everything stopped. I shut down. I focused on grounding, coping, and recovering. I had had a terrible day, all day. 

It is currently 12:47 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 32 minutes.

Why? I had gone to bed early. So I had a nightmare. So I was uncomfortable from the start, I was ashamed, paranoid, triggered, scared, and I hated every inch of my body, but I didn’t want to be late again to first period. So I forced myself to make this a good day. It was a Wednesday. We had Friday off (Good Friday). I could get through this day. I didn’t have the ability to attend the partial hospitalization program (PHP) I attend to treat my PTSD today, because of an appointment I had been planning for months (well before I knew I would be in PHP). But I knew I would be there tomorrow, and although I usually leave school at 12:45 PM, my appointment would have me relatively excited, so it felt as though it would balance out. It didn’t.

It is currently 12:55 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 40 minutes.

 Assembly for seniors which pertains to the big class events, mainly Senior Prom. My friends decide to sit directly in front of The Jocks TM, people I just generally don’t get along with, but I followed because I can handle myself. Or I thought so. A group of The Jocks TM decided to boo when our principal came out to speak about senior prom. I needed as much info as possible, because I am bringing my partner to senior prom, and they attend a different school. So I am already anxious and nervous, but they’re making it worse because I can’t listen and get the info I need. And then he mentions the breathalyzers, a mandatory part of just about every prom across my state. And they boo. They’re yelling, so much so that the principal has to pause and wait. This wouldn’t be a big deal, but now I’m worried about senior prom. Now I’m worried they’re going to do their best to get absolutely wasted and I do NOT want to bring my partner into that environment. Not because I’m possessive and want to shelter them, but because prom is an expensive event that I invited them to specifically so that we could enjoy it together, even though it was expensive. I haven’t even made it to my second period yet, and my paranoia is already through the roof.

It is currently 1:04 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 49 minutes.

Second period flows, I speak to some people, I calm down a bit. Then third period hits. Third period is my math class. The teacher would be out, so it was essentially a study hall. I was hoping to use it to catch up/study, but instead I’m discussing the assembly and senior prom with kids I know might have info, some, any, a fucking word idgaf, about what to expect after our principal announced the breathalyzers, I mentioned how I was bringing my partner and they attend a different school, and I didn’t want them to have that as their one and only experience with my school. Nothing. Not an ounce of anything remotely helpful. I’ve already used just about all of this period to discuss senior prom, so I decide to focus on catch up work. Nope. Not happening. Instead a group of kids sitting directly next to me start talking about a trans-girl I know, and they are saying ignorant things. Based on the conversation, I can rationally deduce they weren't being transphobic/homophobic, they just aren’t up to date with the language. But as a now extremely paranoid gay woman, hearing something remotely anti-LGBT put me into an even greater state of paranoia, and fear, because I am openly gay and they are discussing this right next to me. Finally the period ends, and I can relax into one of the two lunch periods I have (because I have a heavily reduced schedule to help cope with stress and trauma, both of which are heavily tied to the school building itself). I get through that, enter my fifth period class, acting, and finally get to my second lunch, sixth period. Sixth period I go to see my guidance counselor to continue discussing what can be done about AP physics, the class I have next period (two on lab days). The class I am currently failing. The main stressor out of all my classes. She says my dream school, the one I will attend in the fall, has not gotten back to her about dropping it/taking it as a pass fail. 

It is currently 1:20 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for over an hour now. I have not left the room, gotten a drink, gotten a snack, or even stood up out of my chair in the since 11:04 PM.

No big deal, I’ll just tell my physics teacher what’s goi- “Nadia the test you were supposed to make up Friday, but haven’t been able to yet? I want you to take it now. I figured you might as well get it out of the way considering you have this period and next to work on it” 

It is currently 1:25 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for 70 minutes.

Oh. Can I check my phone real quick?

Sure.

+4 new emails to your school email!

*Opens*

(From my guidance counselor): Nadia [dream school] just called, please come see me

Hey uhhhh, my guidance counselor wants to see me RIGHT now.

Really? That’s odd. I’ll call her, you get started on the test.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

I filled in random answers on the multiple choice, skipped the open ended questions, and made it look like I was working on it until the end of eighth period. I cover up the blank spaces where writing should be with the multiple choice packet, hand it into the teacher of the room I was randomly thrown into, and book it to my counselor’s office to catch her before my appointment.

It is currently 1:29 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but hold back tears, ground myself, and write this post for the past 84 minutes.

They said you can’t drop it if you want to be certain you’ll be there in the fall, they want to see you get a C or above in the.....

That’s it.

That’s the last piece.

I’m broken.

Since 11:04 PM I have done nothing but try to ground myself and cope with the fact that I lost my connection to almost everything. That I will continue to lose this connection every night at 11:00 PM. That I will lose any and all electronic based or assisted coping mechanisms I may have, until after I wake up. It is currently 1:33 AM as I write this time-log, I have done nothing but work on this post for the past 89 minutes, and I have been trying to cope and ground myself for roughly two and a half hours (149 minutes).

So. Let’s recap

I have had a bad day.

After my appointment I got home and began studying for my test at 7 PM

At 11:04 PM I had a break down, and have been trying to cope and ground myself since. 

I have not finished studying yet, and I intend to stay up, rather than try to sleep earlier, to finish doing so.

The test I was and will be studying for, whether this is true or not, feel as though it will decide where I spend the next year of my life.

Now for the obvious question:

How could this have been avoided?

Am I asking for my mom to not have turned off service for my phone? No. She had already turned off texting, this was the obvious next step.

Now my answer, my main take away for parents and caregivers.

Talk to your kids.

Talk to your kids about punishments you intend to use, whether they’ve done something wrong or not, so that you can be sure it won’t break them.

Talk to your kids. 

Talk to your kids about what you expect from them, ask them to honestly tell you what their limits are, even if they conflict with these expectations.

But most of all.

Talk to your kids.

Talk to your kids when you’re trying to help them, make sure your proposed solution or support does not end up hurting them. If my mom had told me about this, even at 10:59 PM, a minute before it would take place, this break down could have been avoided.

RECOGNIZE THAT YOU DO NOT ALWAYS KNOW BEST

Parents and caregivers; if you expect your kids (or those receiving your care) to trust you? To respect you? To be honest with you? 

TRUST THEM FIRST

If you always assume that you and you alone know what’s best for your kids, that you alone know how to best support them and reprimand them. 

You need to recognize that kids are still people and can speak for themselves.

I am 18 years old, I am not asking you to start talking to your one month old as if they are in high school. I am asking you to give us the respect that you think you deserve. The fact that...

...It is currently 1:46 AM (14 minutes before the earliest time I fall asleep) as I am writing this time-log, I have been trying to cope and ground myself for 162 minutes, and working on this post for 102 minutes...

...should be message enough that assuming you know best, does not work.

#reblog the shit out of this #trigger warning #oc #my writing #me #my mental health #my depression #my ptsd #my anxiety #my triggers #depression #PTSD #anxiety #stress #paranoia #Triggers #discussion of trauma/mild mentions of homophobia/mental health instutions #frequent discussion of coping with MY trauma #frequent discussion of parents/caregivers #my parents #parent #parents #parenting #parent tips #parenting tips #parents/caregivers #caregiver #caregivers #school #caregiving