#but i do hate being a teacher in texas

[rainbowvamp]

it makes me so sad that i have gone nearly a whole week without getting to say anything queer or anything even queer adjacent because of the school trip i’m on.

#i hate being texan #i don’t hate being a teacher #but i do hate being a teacher in texas #big bummer

[cowgurrrl]

You're My Only Hope for Heaven

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: oh bitch I'm having a fucking blast with this dynamic the slow burn is slow burning

Summary: An unlikely patron saunters into your bar [3.5k]

Warnings: one (1) creepy guy, one (1) fake marriage, lots of flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, one (1) kiss

You try not to make it a habit of picking up bar shifts during the week. Not only is it almost always slow, and you barely make any money, but it's hard to go from teaching for eight hours directly to another job. You'd much rather be at home, grading or doing something for yourself for the first time in weeks. But you couldn't say no when Katie called you, almost in tears, begging you to take her shift so she could deal with a burst pipe in her house. You don't regret doing her a favor, but you do regret other things as you stand behind the mostly empty bar as whatever game is happening plays on the screen above your head. You think it's a UT game. Or maybe A&M. Or any of the other SEC Texas schools with an absurd football budget. 

You're basically yawning your way through your shift and working through your newest painting in your head, trying and failing to not think about school until absolutely necessary. Principal Martinez is cracking down on the stupid minutiae the school board demands of its teachers, and you spent most of your afternoon writing student objectives on the board. On top of that, your art club kids have been begging you to plan a field trip to the local art museum for weeks. You finally relented, but the paperwork is mind-numbing and requires much more work than you thought. Between working, making art, and trying to live your life, you barely have time. 

Another reason you hate working weekdays is the creepy regulars. Normally, you can ignore them on a busy Saturday night, but it's harder when it's as dead as it is. You have no idea how Katie deals with them on a regular basis. It started with a guy at the bar, you think his name is Steve, asking you progressively invasive questions. "How old are you?" "You gotta boyfriend?" "What time do you get off?" One right after each other, even after you made it clear you're not interested. Fake laughing and making excuses to run to the back or change a keg don't throw him off. 

"Keep it up, and I'll cut you off." You finally threaten after he asks you why you're being a bitch. You roll your eyes when the bell above the door rings, probably admitting yet another asshole who's gonna make your night hell. When you turn toward the door, the words leave you before you can stop them. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Now, is that any way to greet your customers?" Joel chuckles, and you sigh as he sits down in front of you. Thankfully, his brother is not in tow, and you can save yourself a little embarrassment. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I don't," you say. "Whatcha drinkin'?" 

"Looks like you're workin' to me." He smirks and you shoot him a look.

"You wanna free drink or not?" 

"Shiner," he answers quickly. You hum in acknowledgment, not even bothering with the POS system and going right to the fridge to pull a bottle out for him. You pop the cap off and place a napkin under the beer before sliding it to him. "Are you bribin' me?"

"You've gotta be faster with your questions, Miller. You've already accepted it. Might as well enjoy." You say, and he laughs. 

"Well, alright, then," he says, raising his beer to you before taking a quick sip. "So, what's this, then? You moonlightin' as a bartender?" He asks, and you fight yourself on how to answer. What if word gets back to parents? Administration? They couldn't reprimand you for that, right? You know plenty of other teachers with second jobs, so it can't be that taboo. Still, you're hesitant to open up to Joel. Out of all the people who could've walked into your bar tonight, it had to be him.

"Something like that." You settle on, wiping a sticky spot on the bar to avoid his gaze. If he feels anything negative about you having a second job, his face doesn't show it. He has a soft smile on his lips and a slight sunburn across his nose, highlighting the freckles living there that previously went unnoticed. You want to tease him about not wearing sunscreen, but the joke dies in your throat when he rests his elbows on your bar, showing off those stupid biceps you can't not look at. He catches your eyes lingering near the short sleeve of his shirt and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but a grating voice from the other side of the bar cuts him off.

"Excuse me, sweetheart! You've got other patrons over here!" Steve yells, and you feel your eye twitch at his attitude. Joel notices.

"What's wrong with him?" He asks quietly, leaning forward over the bar to get closer to you. Looking into his brown eyes and confused expression, an idea forms.

"Pretend you know me." You say, and his eyebrows knit together, every emotion visible on his face. 

"I do know you."

"No, I mean," you sigh. "That guy over there is a regular on Wednesdays, and the girl who usually works is married, so he doesn't try anything with her, but I won't give him my number, and he's making me fucking miserable. So, just... pretend to know me." Joel is bigger than Steve. Much bigger. Probably a whole head taller and much broader than the man on the other side of the bar. One word from Joel, and he might actually shut up or, better yet, leave altogether so you can finish your day without any more hiccups.

"Okay," Joel agrees, and you reflexively reach out to touch his thick forearm and squeeze. You don't even realize you did it until he smiles like he won a staring contest or something.

"Thank you," you say before turning and bracing yourself to deal with Steve. "What can I do for you, sir?" You ask, but before you can even finish your sentence, he holds up his empty beer bottle and waves it in front of your face like you're stupid. 

"Another beer." He says, and you bite your tongue. 

"You got it."

"Finally," he groans. "You'd think for such an easy fuckin' job, you'd be better at it." 

"What the fuck is your problem?" You ask, refusing to move from your spot to get him his beer, and he scoffs.

"My problem is that you're bein' a fuckin' bitch and ignorin' me when I didn't do nothin' wrong." He's slurring his words together at this point, and you wordlessly go to the POS system to close his tab and send him on his way. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" He yells after you.

"Hey, man, why don't you leave her alone? She's just tryna do her job." Joel speaks up from the other side of the bar, and Steve straightens up in his seat as he assesses Joel. 

"This isn't any of your fuckin' business. Stay out of it."

"It's my business now. That's no way to speak to a lady. I think you owe her a mighty big apology." 

"I don't owe her shit," he spits, and you look over to see Joel setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "Why's this even matter to you, big shot?"

"That's my fuckin' wife you're mouthin' off to," Joel says without hesitation, and you quickly school your expression. Wife? You asked him to play along, but you didn't think he'd say that. "So, if you wanna keep the rest of your teeth, I suggest you apologize to her, leave her a nice, big tip for dealin' with your sorry ass, and get yourself a ride home." 

Steve is silent as you take the empty bottle away from him— just in case things get really ugly— and slide him his card and bill. He eyes Joel carefully for a few tense seconds before picking up a pen, signing his check, and leaving without another word. The second he's out the door, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders and sigh at the relief. You scrub a hand down your face and look over at Joel.

"You okay?" He asks gently like you're a spooked horse, and you nod. You take a few minutes to get yourself together, putting in Steve's 30% tip and cleaning off the empty bar before returning to Joel. "What?" He asks when he catches you smirking.

"At least buy a girl dinner before you call me your wife." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head. 

"You said the other girl is married. I just took it and ran," he says. "And I already tried to take you to dinner, but somebody said no." 

"School regulation says it's unethical." 

"Well, we're not at school now, and you're certainly not a teacher right now." He says smoothly, vaguely gesturing to your all-black outfit, and you give him a look. "What time d'you get off?"

"You're gonna get me in trouble." You whisper, and he leans forward across the bar. 

"All I did was ask you a question." He whispers back, playfully mocking you. It could be the smile on his face, the relaxed humor behind his eyes, or the fact that he stood up for you because you asked him to, but you glance between him and the clock and take a deep breath. 

"I get off at 12. Unless it stays dead like this, then I'm closing early," you say, and his smile grows. "But this is not a date." 

"'Course not." He chuckles, and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

"I'm serious. I need you to say it's not a date, so I know you won't come after me if your kid fails my class." 

"Is my kid failing your class?"

"No, she's amazing. But for my own mental well-being, I need you to say that this is not a date." You say, and he grabs your wrist to stop your anxious wringing. 

"Let me buy you a drink. That's it. Nothin' more," he says, squeezing you. "This ain't a date." 

"Thank you." You sigh, and he nods. 

You spend an hour or two idling between conversations with Joel and trying to look busy for any manager who might care enough to check the cameras. You're pretty much done with all your closing duties by 10:00, and you wait until it's been a full hour since anyone else came in to flip the closed sign and do a few last-minute things. When the bar is completely clean, empty, and ready for the next shift, you slink back behind it to make yourself and Joel a drink before sitting beside him. 

"You feelin' proud of yourself for getting us here?" You ask as you clink your glass against his and take a sip. 

"Yeah, I've got the prettiest girl in the whole place sittin' by me," he says, and before you can even scold him, he throws his hands up. "Not a date." 

"Not a date." You repeat.

"Still true, though."

"Don't make me regret saying yes to you, Mr. Miller." You say, and he gives you a look. You like teasing him, especially since you can always see exactly how he's feeling. He's not particularly subtle, contrary to what you're sure others think about him. 

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joel?" 

"As many times as it takes, I guess," you shrug. "You also clearly have an aversion to being called Mr. Miller."

"My dad was Mr. Miller." He says, and you roll your eyes, groaning and half-folding in on yourself dramatically. 

"Oh, my God, do you know how many men have said that to me since I've become a teacher?"

"Well, it's true!" He says. "Are you sayin' other people are tryna tell my wife to call ‘em by their first names?" He asks, and you laugh. 

"Believe it or not, you're not the first single parent to ask me out." 

"Am I the first one you said yes to?" 

"So far." 

"So far?" He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you hum. "I'll take it." 

Unsurprisingly, Joel is really easy to talk to. He asks questions about your life outside of work, where you went to school, and what made you want to be a teacher. You ask him about his job and family and, somehow, end up talking about the latest cheesy action film he's seen. When both your drinks are empty, the glasses sit there, the ice slowly melting as you talk into the night. Every time a hint of anxiety creeps up your spine, he makes you laugh or tells you an interesting story from his past and distracts you from it. You lose hours sitting there, and you don't even realize it until your phone pings you with a reminder, and you suddenly see it's past midnight.

"Oh, shit," you mumble, showing Joel the time. "I gotta lock up."

"And you have school tomorrow." He says, and you groan as you stand and grab your glasses. 

"Don't remind me. I've got like five million things waiting to get done there." You say. He watches you step behind the bar, leave them in the sink for the opener to find, and no doubt send a catty message in the group chat asking who closed the night before. His eyes don't leave you even when you reach up and grab your bag, your sleeve falling down just enough to reveal a nasty bruise.

"Woah, that looks like it hurt," he says, gesturing to your arm. "How'd you get that?"

"Promise you won't laugh." Your response does nothing to clear up his confusion, but he raises his right hand and makes a cross over his heart.

"I promise." His tone is gentle and even, but you're still hesitant to actually admit it.

"I fell off a table." 

"I told you!"

"Hey!" You scold. "You promised you'd be cool about it!"

"I promised not to laugh." He says, and you roll your eyes. "They still haven't come to fix it for ya?"

"Would I be climbing on tables if they did?"

"Fair enough," he shrugs. You find the bar keys at the bottom of your purse and walk over to where he's still sitting, your hand resting on the back of your chair. He shifts forward until he can catch the edge of your sleeve and roll it up to see the bruise in all her glory. His fingers are warm, and his touch light as he traces the edge of it, not firm enough to make it ache but enough that you feel the pads of his fingers. You freeze like your stillness will be enough for the feather-light touches to continue, your eyes meeting for a split second. He clears his throat and rolls your sleeve back down for you, drawing his hand back. "Tell you what," he says. "I gotta buddy who gets me a good deal on some spare parts. Let me see if I can track down the part you need, and I'll come fix it myself. Free of charge."

"You don't have to do that." 

"And let my wife fall off tables?" He asks, a smirk pulling on his lips, and you shake your head. "It's the least I can do for the free drinks and, ya know, teachin' my kid." 

"Fine, but don't make it a thing. The maintenance people already don't like me. I can't imagine seeking outside help will make them like me." 

"I won't make it a thing," he promises, leaning back in his chair as his eyes travel up and down your body. He sighs heavily and sucks his teeth like you're suddenly too much, and you smile. "It's a damn shame this wasn't a date."

"What'd you do if it was?" The question borders on dangerous, but you can't take it back now that you've said it. It seems to have piqued Joel's interest, too, because he raises his eyebrows at you.

"You really wanna know?" He asks, and you nod.

"I really wanna know," you say. "How does Joel Miller end a successful date?" He gets a little bashful at the question, a blush creeping up his neck, and you knock his knee with yours to get his attention. "C'mon, don't get shy on me now."

"Alright, alright," he grumbles. "If this were a date, and we were gettin' ready to go out separate ways, I'd walk you out to your car, open the door for ya 'cause a lady should never open her own doors," his voice is slow and low, and he watches your face as he speaks. "And I'd kiss you. Nice and slow so I don't scare ya off or anythin'. I might put a hand on your waist or bite that pretty lip or somethin'. And right when I can feel you wantin' a little more, gettin' a little desperate, I'd stop, say goodnight, and walk back to my truck." His words have a devastating effect on you, and you can't look away from him. The heat rolling off him in waves makes you too warm and flustered. His gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip, and you have half a mind to think he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You have half a mind to let him. 

"You're right," you finally breathe. "It's a shame this isn't a date." He nods and stands, his broad chest grazing yours as you look up at him. You're not a science teacher by any means. If you were, you might be able to explain the magnetism you feel toward Joel or what stupid chemical in your brain makes you wonder what tricks he keeps up his sleeve. But you're not. You're an art teacher. So, the only thing you can focus on is the deep brown of his irises and the heavy lashes and crow's feet that frame his eyes. And the swoop of his salt and pepper curls, the tint of his slightly pink forehead and strong nose. You want to capture his image in the dim lighting of the bar, but you settle for committing it to memory to scribble in the margins of your notebook for the rest of the week. Why couldn't you have been a science teacher?

Neither of you says anything as he finally steps away, giving you the space to turn off the last of the bar lights and push through the haze he created in your mind. He lingers by the door and opens it for you when you go to the front and step into the humid Austin night. You lock the doors and give him a small smile when you turn around to see him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

Then, just as he said, he walks you to your car and opens the driver's side door for you. His truck, the only other car in the parking lot, is parked a few spaces away from yours. It would've been so much easier to just ignore you, get in his car, and drive away, but here he is, being the gentleman he's always been toward you. You step into the space created by the open door and throw your bag in the passenger seat, but don't get in the car. Not yet. He sighs heavily, like he's in physical pain, when you meet his eyes again, and his hand flexes around the edge of your car door. 

"Thanks for my not date." You mumble, and he nods. You're close (and weak) enough that brushing his lips would just take a strong breeze. It freaks you out how okay you are with the idea of "accidentally" kissing Joel Miller. You should be panicking. Alarm bells should be sounding in your head, but the only thing filling the cavernous space is the echo of his voice explaining what he'd do if this were a date. Idiot.

He leans on your door a little more, and your heart quickens, thinking he might actually be the one to make the move. His head ducks just a little, and you get a strong whiff of his cologne, your eyes fluttering shut at the scent. Your throat is suddenly dry, and you're all but pushing up on your toes when he swerves past your lips and presses a chaste, firm kiss to your cheek. His beard scratches your soft skin pleasantly, and you keep your eyes closed until he pulls away, looking like he just won a prize.

"Get home safe." He says as he steps back, still holding your door open. You sigh and fight a smile as you look at him— cocky, vindicated, and knowing exactly what he just did. 

"Goodnight, Joel." You manage to get out before sitting down and letting him gently shut the door for you. You wait until he gets in his truck to roll your window down and shout his name until he does the same. "I'm gonna get you back for that."

"Oh, I'm countin' on it, darlin'."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3

#hippies and cowboys #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller #the last of us au #the last of us fluff #the last of us fic #tlou au #tlou fluff #tlou fic #joel tlou #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Hii there love <3 I hope you’re doing well!

Would you mind please writing a drabble in the Elementary-verse where Reader surprises Joel and Sarah (and even Tommy as well, if you’d like!) with a homemade meal for dinner one night? Now that Reader was assured by Joel that it was more than okay for her to do something like this, I feel like she definitely would and it’d be super sweet 🥺💞 Thank you for being so amazing <3

Winter Break

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: F (just more fluff, alcohol consumption i guess, maybe some suggestive stuff but nothing explicit at all) as always, not proofread and written on an edible :)

wc: 2k (this got away from me)

series masterlist | joel masterlist

The winter had gotten to all of you, the school year wearing you down along with Sarah as she finished her first semester as a high schooler. Joel and Tommy had it just as bad—having to work outside in the wettest Texas winter you’d ever seen since moving here. More often than not, Joel would come hobbling into the house after he got off work well past dark, only having the energy to call in some take-out for the three of you. He usually ended up falling asleep on the sofa before the food ever arrived.

But tonight marked the start of winter break, and the start of Joel’s vacation days he was in desperate need of. You wanted to celebrate getting through such a rough month with a home cooked meal—not the first you ever made, but certainly the first in a while.

When Sarah got out of school, the two of you drove over to the supermarket to do some shopping. You didn’t want any of you to have to leave the house this winter break, so on top of the usual snacks and frozen junk food Joel kept his fridge stocked with, you also carefully planned dinner for tonight.

“Ooo, vegetables. Been a while since I had those,” Sarah joked, forcing a laugh out of you as you knew it was sadly true.

“Gonna make a roast tonight,” you informed with a smile. “Figured we should probably eat something other than takeout and frozen pizza.”

“Dad’s gonna be excited…long as he can manage to stay awake through dinner. Dad fell asleep on the way to school this morning.” You gasped and watched her nod. “Yeah, good thing Uncle Tommy was driving. Otherwise—“

“Jesus,” you sighed and shook your head. “I’m gonna lock your father up and force him to sleep for like two days straight starting tomorrow.”

“I don’t need sleep like y’all,” Sarah impersonated her father, pulling another laugh out of you. “I’m a big, strong, man. I don’t need sleep or water or vegetables or anythin’ else most humans need to survive. All I need’s a cup of black coffee and I’ll be alright.”

“That was so good, I got chills.”

Back at home, you got to work on dinner. Sarah attempted to help you out, but you lovingly forced her to relax, instructing her to turn on the TV, kick her feet up and just chill while you handled things. But, the fifteen-year old was stubborn like her father and refused, instead choosing to sit at the kitchen table and finish her upcoming project due the week after school recommenced. As a teacher, you wanted to applaud her for her work ethic, but as her future step-mother, you wanted to pluck her pen from her hand and break it, forcing her to do what every other teenager in the world was doing tonight—nothing.

When it was clear she was going to spend her break her own way, you left her to it, focusing on chopping the potatoes, onions, and carrots—omitting celery as Sarah hated it and reminded you of that fact as you reached for a stalk at the grocery store. As you slid the potatoes in a pot to parboil, your cellphone started to ring on the counter.

“It’s dad,” Sarah announced, peeking at the caller ID.

“Can you get it?”

“Yeah,” Sarah nodded and flipped open the phone. “Hey dad.”

You continued on with dinner as they spoke, the phone call not lasting more than a couple minutes.

“Dad said Uncle Tommy is coming over tonight,” she relayed before getting back to her work.

“Good thing I bought the fattest roast in the store,” you spoke through strain as you lifted the roast from it’s packaging to sit in the middle of a metal roasting pan.

“God,” she chuckled at the size. “And you know what? I bet even with all of that, there’ll still be no leftovers by the time dad and Uncle Tommy get through with it.”

The boys entered the house the way the always did, bickering and graceless, their mud and cement covered work books kicked off by the door as they walked in through the garage.

“I’m just sayin’,” Tommy continued whatever conversation they had going on as they walked into the kitchen. Joel sidled up next to you at the stove, his hand rubbing the small of your back as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah, but I’m tellin’ you,” Joel spoke to his brother but physically remained focused on you and your cooking. “If we can’t get the electrical guys to show up on time, we’re gonna be in some shit. And I know they’re your buddies and all, but this is my goddamn business, Tommy. I can’t keep hand in’ out favors only to get shitty, half-assed work in return.”

“I know,” he sighed and nodded. “I’ll talk to ‘em tomorrow.”

“What’s all this?” Joel mumbled against your temple as he gave you another kiss there, finally greeting you with his voice.

“Thought we were due for a real dinner,” you mumbled back, melting into his side even though he smelled of hard labor and dirt. “There’s a roast in the oven. Should be ready in about twenty minutes. Oh, and there’s beer in the fridge.”

“My god,” Joel gave your hip a squeeze and kissed your cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Damn right you don’t,” Tommy agreed as he appeared on your other side to peek at the food. “How long do I gotta sit in torture?”

“20 minutes,” you replied through a chuckle. “There’s beer in the fridge to distract yourself with in the meantime.”

“Joel, if you don’t marry her, I will.”

“Shut up and go sit down,” Joel ordered, tightening his hold on you. “Gotta keep my eye on him, might try stealin’ you away.”

“I promise you, there’s no chance of that,” you assured. “I’m happy where I’m at.”

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling at you. You turned your head to nod at him, your eyes naturally falling to his lips. “Me too.”

Dinner was alright. The meat could have been a bit more tender and the carrots needed longer, but you seemed to be the only one who noticed. All three Millers tore into dinner until, as Sarah predicted, there were no leftovers.

Now, Tommy laid sprawled out on the couch, his jeans unbuttoned, one hand over his full stomach, the other wrapped around a beer. Sarah sat with him on the other end of the sofa, kicking his feet away any time he tried to rest them near her. Joel looked to be in a similar condition as his brother, sitting back in a dining chair with both hands rubbing over his stomach, his eyes on you as you scraped your plate clean over the trash can.

“Don’t do the dishes,” he commanded, knowing you much too well. You shot him a smile and shook your head.

“It’ll just take fifteen minutes,” you promised, but it didn’t satisfy him. He stood, bones cracking as he walked to stand behind you at the sink. His hands moved from your hips to your hold your wrist. Slowly, he pulled up the sleeves of your sweater one arm at a time, his warmth pressing into you from behind.

“You wash, I’ll dry,” he whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss there before backing away to stand beside you. “How was your last day before break?”

“Surprisingly very calm,” you replied, as you started on the pile of dishes in the sink. “Think everyone’s just excited to get a break. Speaking of, Sarah told me about your nap on the way to school this morning.”

“Oh, hell—just dozed off, it’s nothin. Not everybody needs ten hours of sleep a night to function—“ Your laughter cut him off. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” He shot you a persistent look. “Sarah thought you’d say something like that.”

“She tried to do my voice, didn’t she?” he asked, making you laugh. “It ain’t a great impersonation.”

“I thought it was pretty good.” Joel smiled and accepted the freshly scrubbed plate from your hand with a playful tug.

“You look good tonight, baby,” he spoke quieter, just for you to hear. You felt your stomach tingle with affection at the sound of his low voice—the voice only you got to hear.

“Yeah?” you questioned with a smirk. Joel grinned and nodded in eager confirmation. “You’re just happy because you’ve got a full belly.”

“Dinner was delicious, by the way,” he continued, not detailed by your inability to receive a compliment. “Think one look at Tommy will prove it.”

Your heard turned to the other side to watch as Tommy snored on the sofa.

“Guess he’s staying the night,” you turned to Joel. “I should go get the air mattress—“

“Uh-uh,” he protested with a soft shake of his head. “He’s fine like that. You’re so worried about us relaxin’, you’ve forgotten you’re the most wound up outta all of us. Relax, baby. You are allowed to do that, ya know?”

You chuckled and nodded, looking away from his eyes and back to the dishes.

“How about you go get a fire going in the backyard and I’ll come and sit with you for a while,” you suggested, bringing a fresh smile to Joel’s face.

“I think that sounds like a slice of heaven,” he hummed against your cheek as he kissed you there. “Maybe I’ll even bring out the guitar.”

“That would be nice,” you beamed. Joel’s playing was so pretty, but also so rare. He never had the time for it, always either working or sleeping, but tonight, he had all the time in the world.

Tommy was asleep on the sofa, Sarah up in her bed doing the same thing. You and Joel remained cozied up together in the backyard, a blanket over your laps, your head leaning onto his shoulder as Joel strummed away at his guitar. It was cold out, but the fire raging in front of you did a sufficient job at keeping you toasty, not that you needed it. Joel made you feel plenty warm just by existing.

“You feelin’ sleepy?” he asked over the music. He must’ve caught your heavy eyelids attempting to close. You decided it would be best not to lie, the appeal of the bed and mountain of blankets to keep you warm responsible for keeping you honest.

“Yeah,” you croaked, nodding your head against his shoulder. Joel flattened his palm over the strings to quiet the music before standing up and walking it back into the house. You stood too, wrapping the blanket around your shoulder as you watched him return to put the fire out.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” he reminded.

“I want to,” you argued. He smiled at the dying embers, mumbling an okay.

You waited with him until the fire was completely ashed out, his arms wrapping around your waist to walk you inside. You carefully tiptoed through the house as to not wake Tommy and Sarah. The only sound in the entire house was the creak of the stairs beneath your feet as you padded up the stairs with Joel following at your heels.

“You gonna be grossed out if I don’t shower until the mornin’? I’m so tired—“

“As long as you’re okay with me being too tired for anything sexy tonight,” you replied from your side of the bed as you climbed in.

“We’ll do both in the mornin’ instead, how ‘bout that?” You smiled and nodded at him as he stripped down to his briefs and climbed into bed beside you. You guided him to turn his back to you so that you could hold him for a while, your hands rubbing and kneading at the tension in his back. “Mm, love you baby.”

“I love you,” you whispered back, continuing your massaging right up until you drifted asleep behind him, your hands hugged tight to his chest.

This was rest. This was peace.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller reader insert #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #elementary

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for avoiding people because they vape?

🦞<- so i can find this

I (15M) go to a very, very small high school, only 250 people or so. It’s a magnet/early collegetrade type school in Texas, and there’s not many queer kids. I’m a freshman, and at the beginning of the school year I made friends with the only openly queer friend group at the school. I get along with them well enough, though sometimes it’s hard to understand their social ques (i’m autistic). Most people in the friend group are Juniors, and about a week into knowing them they mentioned how they vape, and how three of the guys actually got expelled from they’re local school for several different vape/drug-related issues.

I don’t care if people vape or smoke weed, I think they should have the right to do that, but it’s one of my triggers for several different reasons and being around it makes me uncomfortable. I know that at least one girl, R, can’t go anywhere outside of school without vaping. For this reason I’ve almost never hung out with any of them outside of school.

Around November-December, two things happened that made me want to stop hanging out with them. I went to R’s birthday party, where she immediately got high and then two hours in went upstairs with all the other kids (minus the three freshman there, who weren’t allowed to go upstairs because they didn’t want us to smoke), so i left early. Then, about a week later, my at-the-time boyfriend (we broke up a few days after this for other reasons) told me R gave him and another friend vapes, which means the only other freshman who were in that group also vaped now, and I felt kinda left out.

Another reason I think I might be the asshole is that, since this school is kinda a nerd school, there’s a lot of career networking with teachers and guests and whatnot, and teachers have told classes that they consider people’s groups when judging their moral character. One teacher specifically, who I hate, is in charge of a lot of the student leadership and is very judgmental. I know they look down on the “blue hair stoner” groups, and I feel like hanging out with them would lower my chances (which are already very low since i’m a queer autistic person) of being chosen for financial and social opportunities. It’s not fair but it’s the truth yk?

I had always gotten the vibe that nobody except maybe 3 of those people liked me, and I was naturally starting to make other friends since I wasn’t as socially awkward as the beginning of the semester. I’ve pretty much stopped talking to everyone in that group, minus one guy and making small talk every now and then. R has come up to me several times in the past two months and asked me (jokingly? i can’t tell) if i’ve been avoiding them, and I always just like.. steer around the question. I don’t want her thinking that I’m judging her for vaping/smoking, even tho I think highly of her. I’m trying specifically not to trauma dump in the ask box, but I’m predisposed to addiction in my family and have trauma from other incidents where vapes/weed/drugs etc were involved, and being around them make me physically start shaking.

AMITA for avoiding them?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[loserdiaz]

april's fics masterlist! 💌

unbetaed, unedited, unhinged

This is a list of all most of my published buddie fics for the 9-1-1 fandom (will be updated as needed).

I hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this) | teen and up | 4.2k words

"What did you just say?' Buck swallows thickly and reaches for the marriage certificate, passing it to Eddie. "Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married." He lets out a breath, bracing himself for the worst case scenario. 'Don't panic', he says, which is rich coming from Buck since he feels like all he'll be able to do for the foreseeable future is panic. Eddie doesn’t react, which is kinda great and definitely something Buck can work with, but he’s also honestly a little worried Eddie went catatonic. “Married?” Eddie repeats, in a hollow voice. from the tumblt prompt: "Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married."

i'll heal eventually (but faster if you're next to me) | teen and up | 19.2k words

School Nurse Eddie and the idiotic Gym Teacher Buck that keeps getting injured.

we are a fresh page on the desk (filling in the blanks as we go) | teen and up | 29k words

Buck's a best seller author under a pen name, Eddie is an actor auditioning for the movie adaptation of his books, and somewhere along the way, they fall in love.

made my way to a life i would choose | explicit | 34.9k words

In which Eddie transfers from his station to the Dispatch Center to be the LAFD Liaison, change is hard, staying away from Dispatcher Evan Buckley is even harder and not falling in love with the man is god-damned impossible. Eddie makes his way to a life he would choose and to a family who will choose him back.

he never thinks of me (except when i'm on TV) | mature | 18.1k words

In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine. They get there in the end, they just need to get their timing right. Inspired by the prompt: “you’re famous and just got asked if you were ever in love this should be good– WAIT WHAT."

it can't be unlearned (i've known the warmth of you) | teen and up | 4k words

Buck gets attacked by hunters on his way to Eddie's, Eddie takes care of him and some revelations come to light in the morning.

spinning faster than the plane that took you | teen and up | 9.2k words

Buck flees to the other side of the world, they're both miserable and also pining idiots in love. Somehow it all works out in the end.

the way you move is like a full on rainstorm (and I'm a house of cards) | explicit | 2.7k words

Buck and Eddie play strip poker and things get a little out of control. It's for the best, though.

trust me to take you home | teen and up | 2.2k words

"Listen," Eddie clears his throat. "Thank you for doing this. I—" "Thank me after we get out of this alive." Buck leans forward, his face just a few inches away from Eddie's, he has a conspiratorial glint in his eyes and his cheeks are flushed— Eddie should get an award for how strong he's being right now, seriously. It takes everything in him not to close the gap between them and kiss Buck right then and there. He could do it, though, with the excuse of people watching. They need to keep the charade, right? When Pepa kept setting him up on awful, horrible dates, and Buck offered to pretend they were dating— well, how could Eddie ever refuse something like that? The chance to get a taste for what he's been aching and longing for since forever, even if it'll end up with his heart more broken than it already is. It seemed like a good idea at the time, alright? Eddie's never claimed to make smart, sound decisions. or: there's a wedding in texas, a meddling tía pepa and only one bed. somehow, it all works in the end.

called my bluff (and saw through all my tells) | explicit | 2.3k words

eddie knows exactly how long buck was dead for and buck doesn't really know what to do with that information— so he does the logical and sensible thing and fucks the guy.

believe in one thing (i won't go away) | mature | 24k words

"I think— I think we should go to therapy. Together." Eddie says one night and takes Buck completely by surprise. "Therapy? Together?" "Yeah, like, couple's therapy or something. Frank told me he can recommend someone for us." "Eddie…" Buck says slowly, as if he's trying to explain the hardest math problem in the universe to a five year old. "We're not, uh— We're not a couple." "No, I know." Eddie frowns and looks down, fidgeting with the beer in between his hands. "But we're partners." He says, this time a lot lower that Buck barely hears it. "Right?" or: the one where buck is figuring out stuff after waking up from a coma, eddie misses his best friend and they go to couple's therapy.

I woke up just in time, (now I wake up by your side) | teen and up | 2.9k words

"Fine, I'm his fiancé." Eddie rolls his eyes and ignores the stares of his teammates behind his back. "It's fairly recent, we haven't had the time to finish the paperwork. Are you really not gonna let me see my fiancé?" or: Buck is in a coma, the nurses are being difficult and Eddie pretends to be engaged to Buck so they would let him see his friend. prompt: what are the ethical implications of pretending to be engaged to a comatose man?

romance is not dead (if you keep it just yours) | teen and up | 2.8k words

Buck went on a mysterious date, he's being oddly secretive about it and his family is just too meddling to let it go. (Eddie is having the time of his life.)

i've spent my whole life trying to put it into words | teen and up | 4.1k words

5 times Eddie was in a car with Buck, trying not to tell the man he loves him +1 time he says it. prompt: you're in a car with a beautiful boy and you're trying not to tell him that you love him.

I'd marry you with paper rings | general audiences | 1.7k words

In which Buck has thoughts about Valentine's day, he makes paper rings and somehow ends up proposing to his best friend. It kinda works out for him in the end.

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing | teen and up | 5.5k words

In which Eddie's parents come to visit, Buck is an idiot and as always, a family dinner goes wrong. BTHB Prompt: Allergic Reaction

my hands are shaking from holding back from you | explicit | 7.5k words

5 times Eddie sees one of Buck's thirst traps/nudes. Inspired by the prompt: whoops I accidentally found a naked/sexy selfie of you on your phone and fuck how am i supposed to function around you now?

pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend) | teen and up | 3.3k words

"So teach me. Show me the Buck 1.0 moves or whatever." He grins at him and moves his hand, brushes his knuckles against Buck's forearm— ghosting over his skin. Buck gets goosebumps and pulls away, nearly falling off his stool. When he straightens, wincing, Eddie is grinning at him, delight all over his face. "Who doesn't have game now, Buckley?" or: Buck inadvertently challenges Eddie to try to hit on him by laughing at the fact that the guy has no game. It ends up being the best thing ever.

the songs i wrote as your other (are the best i´ll ever sing) | explicit | 7.4k words

“Should we take this new romantic love song to mean there’s someone new in your life?” “No.” He flashes another smile, all teeth and confidence he doesn't really feel inside. But he feels the weight of the cameras on him and the weight of Eddie's gaze against the side of his face; he needs to keep the act up. “Trust me, you don’t need to be in love to write a love song. It’s ingrained.” He glances at Eddie. or; Buck and Eddie are in a rock band together and have this friends with benefits thing going on. They try to keep things casual... except Buck keeps writing love songs about Eddie.

this is my idea of fun (playing video games) | explicit | 5.1k words ( co-written with @cowboy-buddie )

Eddie’s just trying to enjoy a day off filled with video games, but when Buck comes home, well, he has a diffrent sort of game in mind.

it's what my rotting bones will sing when the rest of me is dead | teen and up | 12.4k words

the one where a call goes wrong and leaves everyone thinking eddie was dead, buck finds about the will through a letter and comes to some other revelations in the process. and in which eddie finds his way back home and finally gets to be happy with the love of his life. BTHB Prompt: Missing and Presumed Dead

situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) | teen and up | 4.3k words

from the prompt: We're best friends and have been dating for over a month now but you won't kiss me so should we just break up and just be friends? But turns out you didn't know we were dating

the night i nearly lost you (really thought i'd lost you) | teen and up | 2.9k words

"Buck! Buck, baby! Stay with me, okay?" Eddie. Eddie's voice washes over him like a warmth blanket, comforting and grounding even amongst all the pain and fogginess. "Buck! Buck!" The screams calling his name pierce through Buck’s skull like a freight train. The pain pulses behind his eye and echoes down his spine until it falls into the churning waters of Buck’s stomach. Nausea rolls through him and he groans, closing his eyes. or: The woman sleep driving her car into the station goes a little faster and hits Buck... Eddie doesn't handle it well. BTHB Prompt: Ambulance Ride

I'm the one on the phone as you whisper | teen and up | 1.2k words

Buck's date cancels but he has already made the restaurant reservation, so he decides to call Hen and ask if she'd like to take Karen there. He dials the wrong number. It all works in the end.

i don't want to keep secrets just to keep you | teen and up | 5.5k words

Buck insists on keeping their relationship a secret for longer than Eddie thought they would. It causes some problems... until he finds the reason why.

#okay fineee these are not ALL of my fics but i have a lot and i gave up halfway through #here's a mostly kinda completed masterlist tho ig #my fics #my writing #april writes #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie #buddie fic #buddie fics #buddie fanfiction #911 fic #911 fics #911 fanfiction #911 abc #911 on abc

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

I desperately want oblivious!Buddie to play out for just a LITTLE longer so we get some “off-screen” gems. As in, absolutely bonkers events and quirks that we don’t currently know, but slowly find out before the boys figure THEM out. Such as Buddie grocery shopping together, Buck knowing Chris’ (AND Eddie’s) SSN, Chris having Buck’s phone number memorized because he didn’t have a phone when they first met and would call him on the house phone like for the Hildy prank, Chris has called Buck his dad to one of the firefam or Carla, Buck and Abuela have weekly phone calls now that she lives in Texas, Eddie is Buck’s POA (and vice versa), Eddie has a second pair of keys to Buck’s Jeep (Buck doesn’t for Eddie’s truck ONLY because Eddie is a passenger princess and if he’s not the one driving his truck then he just hands his keys off to Buck anyway), as early as late season 3 Christopher was drawing Buck into his family portraits (bonus points if it’s before the well happened), Buck has Christopher’s drawings on his loft fridge, Buck uses the family calendar on Eddie’s fridge too, Eddie specifically doesn’t buy certain foods because Buck has a food restriction that the Diazes do NOT also have (canon vegan Buck anyone?), Buck picks Christopher up from school enough to be known to both the teachers AND administration, they have a shared google calendar that Eddie hates (technophobe) but Buck updates regularly, there hasn’t been a week where Buck hasn’t stayed the night at least once at the Diazes since the lawsuit (yes, even through the divorce arc idc, let me live).

The whole “didn’t know they were dating” thing is becoming more and more appealing to me for Buddie with every passing minute, and I just think it would be funny if we got Hen or Maddie or even Christopher to call them out on little things like this that they do that they didn’t really think hard enough about to realize it was partner shit, not best friend shit. Plus, I know a lot of people want Buddie NOW because of Buck being canonically bi, but I’m still happy to wait a little longer if it means giving both characters the patience and care their stories deserve. ABC making them canon the very first season after the network switch WOULD be iconic, but given that I’ve been both ecstatic and nervous about Buddie after last Thursday’s episode, I think they should pace it. Give them both full realizations about their sexualities, a lil crisis about it for each too, maybe a different man or two before each other, the jealousy they’re BOTH now famous for, just a pinch more therapy about the shock of it all, and then somebody or something to knock their heads together and make them realize that their partner has been right there all along.

Honestly, I won’t lie and say that some of these aren’t based off of fics I’ve read, but they’re also so basic to Buddie that I couldn’t tell you specific fics, and I also definitely tried to come up with some that aren’t from fics in my memory, but claim them if you want lol, I don’t mind

#buddiepher #buddie #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #evan buckley #Buck is bi!!! #buckley diaz family #this is canon to me #oblivious buddie my BELOVED #oblivious buddie #Chris come get your dads #buddie is endgame #buddie is coming #911 abc #911 s7 #9 1 1 abc

[iggyguyy]

if you ever wanna lore dump about your ocs I’m here I GRHRHRHEHKRHEJ I NEED TO MORE ABOUT THEM

You are now one of my favorite people ever I hope you know that <3

INSANELY LONG LORE DUMP UNDER READ ⚠️❌️

The over-all story of the silly guys:

It's about this 5 person band filled with weirdos in the very real Texas town named Round Top Senior (better version of round top). They live together in a small apartment and have a lot of playing gigs at the local all inclusive bar. Their main problem is money. Money for a new apartment. Their non human drummer is still growing, and is slowly outgrowing the current apartment. They are desperately looking for money to buy one that can actually house their huge drummer. One day this all changes when a 6th person gets sort of kidnapped by the banjo player and has to stay there for a while. No one really likes him and he has no idea how to act around neither queer people nor non humans. Chaos ensues when he finds himself slowly falling in love with the weirdo who got him in that situation in the first place...

THE 6 MAIN CHARACTERS:

Mama 🌞🪕: No one knows who or what he is, but he is sure there! His warm pink skin, his bright green hair and his huge chest make him very loved around the town; you'd recognise him anywhere! His species, age, gender, past and motives are all unknown, even to him. All he knows is that he likes stringed instruments (He plays the banjo, guitar, bass, electric guitar and harmonica) and that he loves befriending humans and learning more about them. There's something about him that really drives people to love him. His huge list of past lovers really shows this! Also oh god his backstory is LONG I am sparing you this time

He / him used on him mostly, he couldn't care less. He has a vagina and seems to be able to reproduce, no one has really tried. He has a very deep voice and a strong Cuban accent. 200 cm / 6'6 ft. Canonically doesn't have body hair except for mustache, 0 fingernails and never wears underwear. He also REFUSES to wear shirts / cover his titties. No Canon gender or sexuality but he will be with anyone who wants him. His favorite band is Buffalo Springfield. Old ass drawing but its still one of my favs!

Richard Kelly / Dickhead 🕶🎸: He thinks that he's the coolest guy ever but oh god he is STUPID! He tries so hard to be likeable that most people just end up hating him instead. From his neglectful parents and bullies in school, he's ended up being a very pretentious and dismissive person. He doesn't really "get" queer people, he thinks most people are beneath him and he doesn't even slightly respect non human people. Why is he even here? Good question! After getting mad at Mama for "stealing his girl" (His gf Jill broke up with him because he was yelling at her in front of Mama), he got so mad in his drunk state that he fainted mid-punch and woke up on Mama's couch the next day. The rest is history! He tries to pretend that he hates the band but oh god he's starting to love them so much. He also canonically loves goth girls.

He / him, cis male. 175 cm / 5'7 ft. Has a HUGE ass. Stubby beard paired with sad mustache. Cis straight man in the beginning of the show, cis BI man at the end! 25 years old, birthday is the 15th of August. His favorite band is Gorillaz. Haven't drawn him in ages whoopsies!

Julius Amadeus Usoro 🍎🥁: Big guy! This huge monstrosity is the head honcho of the band, their drummer and the one who owns the apartment! He has a huge fear of birds and insane abandonment issues. He tackles having 3 jobs at once, drummer for the band, ASL teacher for their deaf neighbour and he also teaches the drums! His other hobbies includes competitive eating, cooking, anything that has to do with apples, going on runs and walks, cooking even more, napping and cooking again. He is a mix between a sewerian and a Häll-horn, hence his purple skin! Most people just know him as "the demon" though. His brain is very small and he's not that bright, but he has a big heart and he is very loved by the band. He is illegal in many places and the band literally have to say that he's a guide dog to get out of some situations. The people of texas really don't like "demons". He legally adopted Marv in high school. Won't say his whole long ass backstory either but he was raised by a Russian lesbian couple who owned a big apple farm. He is also mute! He communicates through ASL or messy writing!

He / him, cis grayromantic bisexual male. 255 cm / 8'4 ft. 21 years old, birthday is the 10th of October. Huge titties on this guy. Gets winter fur but is pretty hairy all year round anyway! Paw-like hands. His favorite band is The Beatles.

His current design has him wearing headphones more times than not, but these old drawings still work to shoe his design :3

Marvin Juhani Usoro / Marv 🎺💣: The youngest in the band, but also the smartest by far! With 150 IQ and a concerning love for violence and explosives, this little pyromaniac is the main singer in this already weird band. He is completely blind, literally not having eyes at all under his opaque glasses, two of his limbs are amputated and his scarring is painful, so he uses his trusty crutch-cane wherever he goes. He's in and out of asylums and switches back and forth between psychologists, which is awful for him due to strong noscomephobia [fear of hospitals or care facilities]. He's diagnosed with bipolar disorder, autism and borderline personality disorder. His mother got killed by a faulty bomb he made, and his dad disowned him afterwards; making Julius and the band his only family. He was born in Borås, Sweden, to two Jewish finns, so he speaks english/finnish/swedish/jiddisch.

He / him, cis aroace sex+romance repulsed male. 177 cm / 5'9 ft. Big part of his nose gone due to explosion. 16 years old, birthday is the 3rd of March. His favorite band is either Insane Clown Posse or Children of bodom. Ignore that his foot is only missing on one drawing it's a pretty recent change !

[Dead name] Hernandez / Buddy 🎹🤙: They are the backbone and most street smart one in the band, without them the rest of them would be completely lost! They love messing with the others amd pulling small pranks. They're diagnosed with Adhd. As a side gig they like to play piano and sing during nights at the club without the band, usually with a bar specific backup crew. They are a recovering alcoholic and struggle with smoking. They used to be very ablelist and cruel to people, but they decided to leave that life and they're trying to become the bigger person. They write pretty much half of their songs [other half being by Julius], and being in this band is the best thing that ever happened to them. They've completely cut off the ties to their family who still lives back in Spain. They pride themself in their big amount of friends, always making sure to check in on them and hype them up. They don't use their dead name ever, except for legal instances, but it doesn't make them that uncomfortable so they can't be assed to legally change it.

Any pronouns, mostly they / them. AFAB genderfluid lesbian. They still view gender for them as fluid, but still primarily fem! They are 28 years old and their birthday is the 1st of April. 167 cm / 5'6. Their favorite band is Queen, but fav artist is Cass Elliot.

Dominic Smith / Dom 🎷🖼: The half raccoon half human who ran away from home and just happened to meet Julius! This sax playing maniac is so obsessed with Julius that he clings to him 24/7. He has autism, adhd, strong maladaptive daydreaming disorder and even stronger schizophrenia. He basically lives in his own little world and sees things as a jumbled mess of bland colours, and that's why he loves Julius and the band so much; they're a break from the same old same old! He grew up on a corn farm for most of his life, living with his mother and 2 older brothers. His dad was nowhere to be found, and Dom cant remember meeting him ever. He loves sporting his beautiful knockoff slipknot merch and jeans. He has a very hard time remembering things. His special interest is spongebob! [Although he calls him "monty spumbop" for whatever reason ?]

He/they/xe, amab but pretty much completely unlabeled. No one has ever explained the concept of gender to him in a way he understands, but if someone managed to do it he would most likely use xenogenders. He's silly like that. 155 cm / 5'1 ft tall. 19 years old, birthday is the 17th of January. His favorite band is slipknot.

SOMEWHAT IMPORTANT SIDECHARACTERS;

Barbra Scarlette Wilson / Barb 💄🎀: A 32 year old 190 cm tall texan dragqueen millionaire! He has the biggest, pinkest house in town, and he is PROUD of that! He uses he/him and is a cis gay man. His drag name is Scarlette Darling. He is absolute besties with Buddy and even gave them a specific pink flip phone that only has his number, so it's easier to contact him! He has a crush on Julius that pretty much everyone except Julius himself has noticed.

Kino 🟦💢: 29 year old unlabeled Häll-horn whos Ukrainian and Russian, very traditional one too. He has embraced the "demon" culture and is completely against all humans. He absolutely hates Julius because he thinks that he's a disappointment and embarrassment to the whole species, with how human influenced he is. He is very aggressive and mean.

Kaleb 🟥❔️: 20 year old trans ftm pansexual Sewerian whos Ukrainian, not very traditional one. He doesn't care too much about traditions or hating humans, he just wants to relax and live as he likes. The only reason he hangs around Kino is because they can relate over both being non human and "demons". He had to pretend to hate Julius just to make Kino happy, secretly he thinks Julius is extremely attractive so whoops that's not what Kino wants!

Oscar Pérez 🍊🍺: A 37 year old cis male gay human from Mexico. He used to date Mama and planned on getting married to him while Mama was in Mexico, after getting left alone completely randomly by him, Oscar swore to find him and get revenge on him. Now he's found him again, but he still loves him too much to go through with it. So now he's just in an abusive relationship with him instead! Oscar gets a lot of pent up anger he usually takes out on Mama, since he thinks he deserves it. Mama doesn't even remember who he is or that they're even together, but he still keeps letting Oscar treat him as if they're an item.

Jill Dimitry 🖤💫: Richards ex gf. She loves rock and is trying to learn the guitar. She is cis female and bisexual. She can get fed up very easily, so it's a surprise she didn't break up with Dickhead earlier! She doesn't talk to Richard anymore but she's talking to Buddy and Mama every now and then.

Rita Salvador ✏️💛: Julius' old high school roommate and girlfriend. She was a huge beatles fan and collected spongebob merchandise! She was a transfem autistic girlie who always wore her socks over her baggy sweatpants. She died when Marv was working on a bomb and accidentally knocked it to the floor, the explosion happening close enough to Rita to kill her, but only knock out Marv. Julius just lied to Marv and explained that she died of a heart attack, not wanting Marv to feel guilty. Rita named herself after the beatles song "Lovely Rita" !!

Alia 🌼🫒: The local florist shop owner! She sells handmade and homegrown bouquets and all kinds of flowers! She was very close friends with Rita. She loves meeting Julius during the week, even if she can't understand his ASL! She's a transfem Muslim who always sports her cool handmade skirts! ALSO SHE WAS CREATED BY THE LOVELY @animatronicthing [art in the photo below was made by schyr!!!!!!!!] GO CHECK THEM OUT

There are a few more characters worth mentioning who don't have a decided design or aren't that relevant but still!!!!!!!!:

The Abdullahi family. They are the band's neighbours whi recently moved here from Nigeria. Mrs. and Mr. Abdullahi don't know a lot of English, and their daughter Sani is deaf and autistic. Julius spends his free time teaching ASL to Sani!

War veteran neighbour: old man in wheelchair who lives across the street to the sillies and often goes out on his balcony at the same time as mama, making them greet each other every now and then.

Freddie: he's the local pizzeria owner and he absolutely loves getting visited by Dom and Julius, it really makes his day!!

That's pretty much all characters who are somewhat developed, but oh god there's more! TY sososososoosososoosososoososososoososo much for this ask i am literally going insane !!!!!!!!!

That's my sillies, bye ! ✌️

#GRAAAAGHHHHHHHHH SILLIES #Also fun fact my folder of silly guys fanart has 579 images #almost half of that artwork is naked drawings of Julius #insane #art #oc artwork #the silly guys #original character #asks / requests #gay people #bitches love my mustache #long ass post

[ayeforscotland]

Sorry my last ask was so broad. May I ask for your thoughts on the things happening in US politics at the moment? Like the Texas Judge ruling that the abortion pill is “unsafe” even though the data which shows it to be less dangerous than Tylenol/Acetaminophen and banning it nationally. and abortion rights in general for many Americans.

Or the legislation being proposed that affect to LGBT community, which is a broad topic on its own.

Or the 148 mass shootings the US has had in the first 100 days of 2023 (just today there have been 2 more)

I'm sorry these are some heavy topics. I don't expect you to respond to all of these. Thank you for reading this. Hope you have a lovely day :)

Sorry my last ask was so broad. May I ask for your thoughts on the things happening in US politics at the moment?

Like the Texas Judge ruling that the abortion pill is “unsafe” even though the data which shows it to be less dangerous than Tylenol/Acetaminophen and banning it nationally or abortion rights in general for many Americans.

Or the legislation being proposed that affect to LGBT community, which is a broad topic on its own.

Or the 148 mass shootings the US has had in the first 100 days of 2023 (just today there have been 2 more)

I'm sorry these are some heavy topics. I don't expect you to respond to all of these. The situations here scare me, as a queer woman. Thank you for reading this, and taking the time to respond to it. It means a lot. Hope you have a lovely day :)

Oops think your ask doubled up for some weird reason. To get it out of the way, I have never been to America. My thoughts on each of those topics are pretty much the same whether I'm talking about America or not. Guns are quite an American issue which I'll jot down some thoughts. I'm pro-choice, pro-equality and pro-gun control. In my opinion, unsafe abortion only happens when people don't have access to safe and legal abortions. Banning abortions or banning morning-after pills does nothing but increase unsafe abortions. To anyone who doesn't support abortion, that is absolutely fine, just don't have one. But don't dictate what someone else can do. Any anti-LGBT legislation is inherently evil. No excuses. Mass shootings are incredibly frustrating from a outsider's perspective. We only really get 'the big ones' reported in our news, and this has a number of issues. For some backstory, my nursery teacher was the mother of one of the children killed in the Dunblane massacre - the deadliest mass shooting in British history where a gunman killed 16 kids and a teacher before he killed himself. I learned about it super young and was always amazed she spent all her time teaching children who were roughly the same age her daughter was. And I hate that I have to write that, because after every single mass shooting, there's a viral twitter post from some UK liberal twat who just want clicks who rhymes off the Dunblane massacre as some sort of gotcha. I remember when Sandy Hook happened, and was young and ignorant enough at the time that I expected that was *the one* - that was America's Dunblane massacre and that would really change things. Now I'm just sad and tired, and a little bit ashamed that whenever I hear about a mass shooting on the news that my reaction is just "Oh, that's a tragedy" and then carry on with my day. They are so frequent, and the reaction after each one is so poor that I can't mentally invest in each one. I'm a bit more pragmatic than the non-Americans who comment saying that America should just confiscate all guns. I know that that won't happen, but I do think there should be stricter regulation for owning one.

Super heavy topics - super heavy answers. Hope that's what you were looking for.

#cw mass shooting

[rosy6maple6mothman6]

So I just finished xiaolin showdown: I wanna talk about it. Spoilers.

I really liked the show! I knew I would thanks to childhood memories of it but I think it holds up alright even today! Imma break it down in what I Did like and what I Didn't like (I think Imma make a different post talking about the Wu). This is longer than I thought it would be. I'm sorry.

What I liked

The Wu themselves, love me magic shit even if they get repetitive at times(fr there are like 4 that just give the power to fly).

I fucking love Jack Spicer and Clay Bailey. They are my boys do you hear me! Love how Jack just won't quit and how Clay is just so painfully Texas. My bois

Love the magic in general! How all die of the main characters get to master their element and get special weapons and gear to help. Wish there was more time to flush all of it out tho ,but hey what can you do(other than post head canons).

Dojo Kanojo Cho

Just his name is fucking amazing, and I did like some of his jokes

And his powers were cool! I wish we could have seen the limits of his shapeshifting powers.

I did like wuya and wish we could have seen her do more witchy things.

Chase Young was also very cool.

I also like panda bubba's design and I kinda wish there was more of him. I wanna do things to him DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT

I already said this BUT I just love how all of them got individual weapons that I don't think were Shen Gong Wu? I think.

Master fung and dojo... Had a very odd relationship. I'm 90% sure they were at least fucking by how dojo acted when he went to a different temple and after that it was just very. Weird.nit Bad weird but still.

Wish we could have seen more of their families. kimono's dad was fucking adorable. I want to fuck her dad

Also Love le mime!!! I also wanna fuck him, I am not taking. criticism at this time

I also liked Jermaine and wish he could have been able to join fully or show up more.

Over all love this show.

What I didn't like

How they treated Jack. Idk man I just thought it was weird how the heros tournamented him so much? Like ya he's a ass but like, y'all are the heros why are you acting borderline worse than him???

I also kinda wish he could have officially joined the xiaolin side, I feel like they alluded to him switching multiple times but then he never does and I think that was a waste.

LET JACK BE THE DRAGON OF METAL.

LET JACK MAKE THEM AN AWESOME DEFENSE SYSTEM.

LET JACK DO A FAKE OUT WHERE HE PRETENDED TO GO BAD AND THEN FUCK THE BADDIES UP WITH SABOTAGE.

Idk dude he deserved betted

Also didn't like how he started out at Least semi competent but then just became a pathetic joke? And not even fuc pathetic. He's not a wet dog he's just pathetic.

I wish we could have seen Raimundo's family if not just a sibling or his parents, just something.

Fuck Clay's dad. Not in a hot way. I hate him.

Omi had such an ego. Like dude, please stop.

I really wish we could have seen more of Fung and Omi's relationship. I kinda wish it was more father and son rather than teacher and student since it seems like Omi lived there his entire life.

I also wish we saw more of Fung being badass. I feel there was a lack of that.

I'll say it again, there are a bunch of shen gong wu that kinda just repeat? And some Wu that don't seem like they should be categorize as Wu? Idk I'll make a different post about it bc there a lot to say.

Le mime was cool and I want to know more about him.

I want to know more about almost everyone honestly.

Give Me Their Backstories. Please

This is all I can think of ATM. I'll add more later probably.

Thank you if you made it down here. Let me know what's your fav and least fav about xs.

#xiaolin showdown #omi #clay Bailey #kimono tohomiko #Raimundo pedrosa #Master Fung #Wuya #Dojo Kanojo Cho #Jack Spicer xs #Shen Gong Wu #le mime #Jack Spicer deserves better

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Zoe's Reprise: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Rossi needs your help when a young girl brings a case to his attention, unfortunately, at her death. High School reunion invitations have gone out, and you receive yours, unfortunately.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

"I never teach my pupils; I only attempt to provide the conditions in which they can learn." - Albert Einstein

Today is an early day since you and Spencer can't sleep. Usually, you'd find something to do like play indoor mini golf or play some chess, but may as well come to work and get ready before everyone else comes in. Spencer is at his desk doing his morning puzzle while you get coffee for the both of you. You cap both cups and start to make your way to your desk when someone from the mailroom stops you.

"Are you Y/N?"

"Yes."

"This came for you."

You have to balance the two coffees in one hand in order to take the thick letter from the young man. Spencer notices you're struggling and comes over to take one coffee from you.

"What is that?" he asks when the young man walks away.

"I don't know. Nothing ever comes for me. Everything goes through JJ."

You set your coffee on your desk so you can open your letter. Inside is an invitation to one of your high school's reunions. Instead of keeping it the normal ten or twenty years since you've graduated, your classmates thought it'd be fun to make it a lucky thirteen years.

Thirteen years since you've seen some of the worst people you've ever met. You've seen a lot of criminals in your day, but nothing compares to high school girls and boys. They're ruthless, especially to someone with your abilities.

"It's a high school reunion invitation."

"What's wrong? You don't look too happy."

"I went to two high schools in Texas because my family had to move at the end of my sophomore year. The first high school I went to was in Dallas and then in Corpus Christi."

"So, what happened?" Spencer asks.

"I was a quiet kid. I didn't really join many clubs or stood out because that's not who I was. I got good grades but I was bullied a lot because of what I can do. I didn't have a lot of control over it like I do now.

"At my Dallas high school, I caught a teacher having sex with a student. I told the principal which got the teacher fired. When the whole school heard what happened, she became a laughingstock. She started bullying me, then her friends joined in, then the whole school and it got so bad that I had to transfer. I finished junior and senior year in Corpus Christi," you finish.

"Wow, I'm so sorry. Were things better for you at that other school?"

"In the beginning. No one knew who I was but then the same thing happened. I was more quiet than before, but I saw a kid in my class with bruises on his face. I knew he wasn't being treated right at home because all I could see was his father and alcohol bottles. I tried talking to him but people overheard. Once again, I overstepped. People hated me again until I graduated."

"Are you going to go to this reunion?"

"I don't know if I even want to. I'm afraid of what they'll say to me."

"That shouldn't matter. Who cares what they think?"

"You're absolutely right but I'm still scared. I'll think about it. If we have a case in that city at the same time as the reunion, then I'll go. If I do, then you have to be my date."

"I can do that," he smiles.

You kiss him quickly before heading over to Penelope's office with him. She, Derek, and JJ are in there to see the pictures of JJ's son.

"Ooh, let me see my godson!" you grin. JJ passes a few photos over to you, and your heart melts at how cute he is. "He's so cute! You really need to bring Henry over. We really want to babysit. You can sleep all day and relax and leave him to us."

"I did talk to him. We're going to make that happen," JJ chuckles.

"Yay!"

Penelope's phone rings, showing Rossi calling her from being on his annual leave.

"Is this David Rossi, the famous bestselling author David Rossi?" she jokes.

"What are you doing?" you ask over speakerphone. "You're not supposed to be calling on annual leave."

"I think it just ended."

"What do you mean?"

"Garcia, Cleveland police are sending you some files. Get JJ to distribute them to the team right away."

"What are we looking at?"

"I don't know yet. Just see if the team can find a connection with these crimes. I'll call you back in a few hours."

"Yes, sir."

"Back to work," JJ says and puts away her photos.

Zoe Hawkes was found dead this morning by a woman walking her dog. Her dog wouldn't stop barking until Zoe was discovered. Apparently, Zoe was at Rossi's book signing with the intention of talking to him about something, but you don't know if there is any other connection between the two of them.

Zoe was found next to her car with her keys still in her pocket, the car alarm was still activated, and there was no sign of a break-in. There was blunt-force trauma to her head and signs of strangulation. The murderer asphyxiated her with the scarf she was wearing. The motive must not be robbery otherwise her things would have been stolen. She had unused pepper spray in her purse, but you're unsure if she didn't want to use it or never got the chance to.

Local police went door-to-door to see if there were any witnesses but nothing came of it. Police theorize that Zoe was looking into murders that occurred in the area. Most recently, Kayla James was murdered and raped three days ago in a burglary-homicide, and they theorize that she was killed because she was snooping around the older case.

As the team gathers in the briefing room, Rossi is on the phone to give his input since he's in Cleveland right now. He has Zoe's laptop so Penelope can go through it, so while JJ presents the case, Penelope is working on getting access. JJ puts a map on the board with the location of all five victims, not including Zoe.

"All crimes are within a seven-mile radius," you note, "but all the neighborhoods are completely different. They range from poor to rich to industrial to residential."

"The physical locations are dissimilar but the operating zone's well-defined," Hotch adds.

"Okay, I'm in," Penelope says. She immediately looks at what she was looking at last through her search history. "The first thing she looks at is a crime column to probably stay current on her studies. The first three are the most recently opened documents she created."

"It looks like she was compiling empirical data about homicide trends in Cleveland," Spencer says. "Do you think she knew the killer?"

"I don't see any notes indicating suspects," Rossi says.

"Well, Dave, she's a criminology student. She's been taught to analyze statistics and apply theory, not investigate killers. Let's talk about what we know."

"Alright. Victim one is Travis Bartlett who was last seen at a gay bar," JJ lists. "He was shot at night in a park. Victim two is Lily Nicks, a thirty-four-year-old prostitute with her throat slashed. Victims three and four are June Appleby and Troy Wertsler who were shot in their car at a parking lot outside of a movie theater. Victim five was twenty-eight-year-old Kayla James who was killed in her home. She was bound with a bag over her head, and evidence of rape."

"The sixth victim was Zoe," you state.

"Victimology, weapons used, and COD are all different. It's hard to imagine it's even the same unsub."

"It can't be a coincidence that Zoe goes to Kayla James' house and gets murdered," Rossi argues.

"Alright, let's say it's the same killer. Does anyone see a pattern?" Hotch asks.

"With the first crime, the unsub shoots the victim. In the second crime, he rapes a woman and slashes her throat. With the third crime, he escalates to killing two people. By the fourth, he escalates even more to raping a woman, binding her, and suffocating her. It seems like every crime escalates to something worse. If it's the same killer, we can argue that there's a progression of violence with every kill."

"It could be an anger excitation offender getting more daring with each crime."

"I think I got something here," Derek chimes in and shows some of the pictures of the bodies. "Look at this: the slashes in the prostitute's throat are all shallow, unsure cuts. A telephone cord, rope, and duct tape were used on Kayla. It's like he couldn't decide how to bind her. Without a gun, this guy is inexperienced."

"Wait, doesn't the crime scene of the couple in the car remind you of anything?" you ask. "It looks like they were shot with a .44 Bulldog just like the Son of Sam used on his victims. The second crime reminds me of Jack the Ripper with similarities being it's a prostitute whose throat was slashed. Kayla was bound, tortured, raped, and suffocated with a bag over her head like BTK. Pen, what neighborhood was Travis found in?"

"At a park in the Kingsbury Run area."

"Zoe reminded me last night that Cleveland's most famous serial killer was the Butcher of Kingsbury Run. He found his victims in gay bars, shot them, and dumped their bodies there. Travis was last seen at a gay bar and his body was found in Kingsbury Park," Rossi says.

"This unsub is a serial killer studying other serial killers."

"See you in Cleveland, Dave," Hotch concludes the meeting.

He's heard all that he needed to hear.

Cleveland is a little over an hour away by plane, so you get there fairly quickly. Rossi didn't seem too anxious over the phone but when you see him in person, you can feel the guilt radiating off him in waves. Your heart feels heavy, there is a weight over your chest, and you feel uncertain about what you're doing. All of these feelings are coming from Rossi who is feeling them for Zoe.

"Are you okay?" you ask when you greet him.

"Why?"

"There's no reason to feel guilty, Rossi."

"Don't do that," he immediately shuts you down. "I don't need you reading me right now. Don't worry about it." He takes the team into one of the empty conference rooms that he's set up. "We'll get started on the evidence boards. Detective Dan Brady's our point. I'll let you all introduce yourselves."

Dan walks over and Hotch introduces the entire team.

"I know it may seem far-fetched, but copycat killers are not entirely uncommon. This one happens to be copying several different killers."

"If he's trying to be the butcher of Kingsbury Run, why didn't he cut up and mutilate the victims like the real guy?"

"That was seven weeks ago. He was just getting started. Beginning killers are often frightened of the crime itself. They're more interested in getting it over with as quickly as possible and fleeing the scene," Emily answers.

"He was just using the Butcher's ruse as a way to lure the victim to be alone with her. By the time he killed Kayla, he'd progressed. He came very close to copying all of the BTK's MO. He's reading, learning, and borrowing from others because he doesn't know who he is yet."

"Because of this, we think he's young and impressionable, maybe even a student. He's someone probably enrolled in criminology classes. Our technical analyst is going through the names of local students right now."

"Up to this point, changing his MO has prevented investigators from linking the crimes. That's why we need to work quickly."

"Are you sure about this?" Dan asks.

"It's not a coincidence that all of these random, violent murders in this localized area are copycats of serial killers."

"It's as if all the worst serial killers have converged on Cleveland. Every time he plans to kill, the murder weapon, the MO, and the victimology will all change. Detective, will you let your team know we're ready to give a preliminary profile?"

"Sure."

"Garcia found three male students enrolled in criminology classes with felony records," JJ says. "Before you say it, we don't need to interview them because one of them is studying abroad and the other two are in jail on other charges."

"Tell Garcia to check enrollment in online and correspondence courses and see if we have any luck with those parameters." Rossi leaves the room without a word. "Will you guys handle the profile?"

"Is everything okay?" you ask.

"Everything is fine."

Hotch leaves to talk to Rossi while Dan gathers his men and women to hear the profile. You want to go out there and help Rossi, but you're needed in here right now. Plus, Rossi doesn't want you to read him and you're respecting his wishes.

"We have six homicides in a seven-mile radius in east Cleveland," Derek gets started. "Now, this small zone indicates that he's a geographically stable offender. This type of offender is characterized as young, socially immature, of average intelligence, with psychopathic personality traits. They also usually live alone and have an antisocial nature."

"A serial killer's first murder is very telling. This unsub chose the MO of Cleveland's own butcher of Kingsbury Run for his first murder. The butcher isn't as well known as other famous serial killers, but he is a local legend."

"Because he picked the butcher to be first, we believe he's a native of Cleveland and probably grew up hearing stories of the Butcher. This is someone who is obsessed with serial killers. His computer will be filled with research on them. He'll have abundant images of murderers on his computer and possibly even snuff films. He uses these like pornography as they provide some sort of sexual release."

"Sorry to interrupt," JJ comes into the room. "There's reports of another body."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader

[spideyscardigan]

you are in love - wes bennett (part i)

word count: 2,149

summary: you're wes' childhood best friend.

warning content: underage drinking and a low-key cringe scene i tried to rush over

general tag: angst but not really, fluff

💌: wes bennett x reader

song: you are in love (taylor's version) by taylor swift (1989 taylor's version)

the warm liquid enters your mouth, making you hum in delight. following the back and forth that went on after wes asked you to help him win liz over, he offered to take you to your favorite coffee shop as a way to bribe you. shamelessly, but not really, you accepted. who are you to pass down free coffee? 

now you were on your way to your mom’s house.  

“are you sure this will work?” wes hesitates, briefly looking at the piece of paper sitting in the front of his car before directing his eyes back on the road.  

you had come up with a list of things wes should do to make liz fall in love with him. the typical compliment her, show interest in her interests, be respectful, etc. but you also added a few you know liz would notice as the helpless romantic that she was.  

you hummed a response, “hmm, you just need to start with being nice, the rest should fall into place like dominoes.” you took another sip of your drink.  

wes looked over to you for a moment without you noticing and a faint smile formed in his face seeing you enjoy your drink. he turned away when you finished. 

“i’ve never met a romance lover who doesn’t love a good enemies to lovers trope,” you reassure him, sparing him a glance then at the headlights of passing cars. “besides, how hard could it be?” 

apparently very hard.  

the very next day, wes had started the day teasing liz as usual. but things went south by the time wes went to school. michael young, an old member of the group and liz’s since-forever crush, had come back from texas. 

“wow, that’s actually crazy,” you had to bite down your lip to stop yourself from laughing, a little amused at the situation.  

you and wes stand by your locker, watching liz and michael’s interaction. “there goes the plan,” wes sighs.  

you look up at wes, seeing his defeated expression. without thinking, you grabbed his hand and drag him to where liz and michael stood.  

“what are you doing?” wes panicked. you only responded by saying, “going to say hi to our friends.” 

michael was the first to notice you both. “wes,” michael greeted him first, and they both do a bro handshake, “you were right on about the biology teacher.”  

wes seemed to be hiding the panic he was previously feeling as he started to talk to michael about how the teacher hates him. you offered liz and joss a smile, though liz was shamelessly drooling over michael.  

keeping up with your end of the deal, you spoke up.  

“michael, you remember ryan clark, right?” michael and wes turned to you, and you gave wes a look. he picked up on what you were trying to do. 

“of course,” michael smiled, “first baseman, right?”  

“exactly,” wes continued, lowring his voice, “ryno’s having a party tomorrow night at his dad’s - you should totally come.” he side-eyed liz but only you caught it. 

this is far beyond the dept you owed wes for taking the fault in your dad’s car wreckage. wes went to parties more than you did, but he had asked you to come with to michael’s for support.  

“wait, so you’re helping her get michael to ask her to prom,” you repeated wes’ words, not believing what he just told you. yesterday, liz went to his house to ask him the exact favor he had asked you.  

wes nodded, hands on the wheel. “at the same time that I'm supposed to be helping you get with her,” you looked over to wes, making sure you both agree the absurd situation wes had foolishly put himself in.  

“look, im not proud of it, but I freaked out!” wes tries, but your stare stays persistent. “for a parking place, too,” you continue the teasing, causing wes to flush.  

the party was loud, and the lights were flashing harshly. these scenes often caused you headaches, so you wanted to stay close to wes the rest of the night, but you feared that would ruin his chances with liz.  

“hey, im going to get a drink,” you voice, pointing to the kitchen, but wes was too distracted looking for liz, who had taken a ride from michael after wes asked him to. “ok, i'll be over there,” he doesn’t point, but you follow his stare and sure enough, it’s directed towards liz and michael.  

you both go your separate ways. you weren’t one to drink, but something about tonight encouraged you to take a shot, which then turned into two, three, four, eight, and next thing you know, there’s a crowd cheering around you as some random girl is pouring the remaining bottle of tequilla down on you.  

wanting to forget the weight of being the only child of divorced parents and the limited time you now had with your dad, turned into the need for a new clean shirt.  

“wes, your girlfriend might be in need of your assistance,” ashley, a girl wes would consider a friend, approached him.  

wes had been standing by liz as she conversed with michael. he would often make small comments here and there, but as he promised, wes was there to simply help the girl he liked be with someone else. 

ashley grabbed the trios’ attention. “you finally got a girl, wes?” michael teased. wes frowned and turned to ashley, who he noticed was drunk. he gently grabs her arms to steady her, but still allowing her to move away if she wanted to. “ash, what do you mean?”  

that's when ryan appears with you wrench in his arms, “hey, sorry, man.”  

immediately, wes lets go of ashley and reaches for you. his whole demeanor changes from relaxed – a little annoyed from liz and michael – to serious, and the only thing on his mind is to make sure you’re safe. “what happened?” 

“i took a shot!” you giggle, trying to stand on your own, before losing balance. wes wrapped an arm around your waist not letting you fall, a concerned look taking over his face.  

he felt your shirt and his frown deepen. he turned to ryan for an explanation, “it was more than one, I fear.”  

you started shivering in wes’ arms, adding to his worries. he remembered his spare change of clothes from baseball practice.  

he looked at liz, being the only one he could trust right now, “im going to need your help,” his voice firm and serious. liz nods, her own face showing concern.  

you hear this and, with your intoxicated mind, think you understand what’s happening. “yea, wesley, rizz her up!” you slur, giggling at your own joke.  

wes merely ignores you, and with a more gentle voice he turns to you, “im going to carry you up, is that okay?” 

you mindlessly nod, too tired to refuse. once you’re safely secured in wes’ arms, ryan guides him to a bathroom upstairs with liz following close behind.  

you snuggle close to the warmth radiating off of wes, when you notice the red head behind you. “i really like your perfume,” you confess to her. Liz looks at you and smiles, “thank you, i try to wear it on special occasions.”  

“that’s nice, and smart,” you smile back, “wes likes it too, but he won't tell you. I would say it’s because he’s shy, but that’s not true.”  

wes clears his throat, making you turn to him. you lazily smile at him, trying your best to wink at him to let him know you’re just trying to help.  

you give your attention back to liz, “he likes a lot of things, actually.” liz continues the conversation, teasing, “yea, like the only parking spot in front of our houses.”  

you squirm in wes’ arms trying to get a better look of liz. “he actually doesn’t really care, he just likes y-” before you can finish talking, wes speaks up, “here’s the restroom!” 

ryan sends another apologetic look at both you and wes, although you don’t realize it, before heading back to the party. wes sets you on the counter and sets his hands on your shoulder to get you to listen to him, “okay, I'll be right back; im only getting some clothes for you to change into.”  

you stare into his eyes, noticing the different shade of brown within them. how soft and gentle can brown eyes be? And why are you just noticing? 

you can only nod, suddenly feeling dizzy.  

wes leaves, closing the door with you and liz in the restroom. you continue to stare at the door even after liz locks it.  

you shake the electric touch wes left lingering on your shoulder and force a smile, facing liz, “just so you know, he's sorry for the frogs in your dreamhouse.”  

from then until wes’ knocks echoed through the restroom, you tried to play wingman by listing every good quality your tired and drunk mind could point out about wes.  

when wes did return, merely minutes after he had left, he didn’t enter the restroom, only asking liz if she could help you chance.  

once you were in a clean chance of clothes, liz opened the door and wes stood from leaning against the wall. “the sweatpants are a little big, but she should be fine,” liz offered a smile.  

wes looked down at her, a sympathetic look on his face. “im really sorry for taking you away from michael,” he apologized, sincerely. liz was about to tell him it was okay, when you jumped in. 

 “aw man, I’m too short for basketball.”  

wes’ eyes go from liz to you, and something that was only supposed to happen with liz, happened. it was like the air was knocked out of his lungs and his heart had done 13 backflips.  

there you stood, holding onto the waistline of his sweatpants to prevent them from falling, with a distraught expression. regardless of the many years of friendship you two shared, you weren’t the type to overstep boundaries beyond the line of friends. thus, this being the first time you had ever worn something of his, and wes didn’t hate the look, not one bit. 

“good think those are from baseball practice,” liz’s voice echoed in wes’ ears next to him, but his eyes stayed on you.  

you were wearing a tank top; one he knows he didn’t have for baseball practice. it showed more skin than you would usually be comfortable showing. even in the summer, you would stay inside where it wasn’t too hot, always refusing to do any activity that required being outside for too long.  

it wasn’t only that the tank top exposed some of your cleavage; it was also the way his sweats would slide downwards, teasing skin from your hips. wes swallows, forcing his eyes away from wandering. 

“i lend her my tank top, by the way,” wes finally looked at liz, “thought it would fit her better.”  

wes walked you to his car now that you weren’t stumbling over your own step after thanking liz.

usually, wes is relaxed when he is near you, but tonight he is very aware of how your shoulder brushing against his, making his breath hitch.  

the car ride back was quiet. your head rested on the window, slowly drifting to sleep, while wes’ grip on the wheel tightened.  

the atmosphere was calm, but wes’ mind was racing from one thought to the next. what the hell happened? to you, and currently him.  

he left you for an hour at most, and you come back to him as drunk mess. he feels guilty for abandoning you when he was the one who asked you to come, but he also knows it isn’t like you to get drunk, not like this. so, what urged you to this time? 

“oh my god!” you suddenly jump in your seat. wes flinches at your outburst, worried eyes glancing at your direction, “what? what's wrong? are you okay?” 

“she knows you play baseball,” you realize. Wes only frowns, confused, “who?” 

“liz!” the smile you give him makes his heart do that weird thing away, and he has to look at the road to keep his cool, “i- yea, she did.”  

“this is great news, bennett,” your energy seems to deem down again, but you keep your eyes on his profile.  

the way his hair falls softly on his forehead, the arch his nose makes, and how the yellow from the traffic light ahead reflects on his skin, making his eyes appear shinier and his few freckles more permanent. 

“why is that?” it’s like wes was the intoxicated one, because any cohesive thought exited his brain. his skin burned under your soft gaze, and he couldn’t help but look back at you.  

“because that means she notices you.” 

a/n: 1989 TAYLORS VERSION LETS GO🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵 obviously the og will be missed but they all sounded SO good (especially you are in love tv😋) crossing my fingers that she releases a cardigan for this rerelease too

#spideyscardigan #spideysworks #jack champion #wes bennett x reader #wes bennett #better than the movies #1989 taylor's version #you are in love taylor's version

[jonphaedrus]

why i hate bowling (and how this resulted in me suplexing a child into a trash bin full of water)

i wasn’t going to tell a story tonight but then i rediscovered a draft of storify tweets from my since-deleted for threatening my friends with crimes so i will instead tell the story about why i absolutely hate bowling, with my entire heart and soul, to a degree that is both irrational and probably unhealthy.

first of all, i love sock puppets. so jot that down. sock puppets are fucking rad. there is something about putting your hand in a sock and pretending to talk with it that is just so...so soothing. like making a little clay dude. 

second of all, i have a junior black belt in karate. as a child i was small, fast, angry, and just full of seething, roiling violence and rage.

third of all, i was not informed i was neurodivergent until i was 16. thanks, court mandated medical care!

so once upon a time in the tender grasp of 6th grade (age 12) before i did stupid things like “skiing accident” and “put my foot through a wall slip on a dog bed give myself a quite significant head injury by levering backwards without a counterbalance headfirst into a wooden floor like one of those drinky birds but in reverse and with exponential force compressed onto it” i was informed we were going to go on a field trip.

look, i’m from austin, texas. there are three field trips in austin, texas. you go to the alamo, you go to nasa, or you go to the bob bullock museum of texas history. sometimes, if you’re really lucky you go to galveston or something, but that’s almost never going to happen. it’s just alamo/nasa/bob bullock/alamo on repeat. you don’t just remember the alamo, you’ve got rocks stuck in your shoes from the alamo and you horrify your friends and get in trouble with the teachers by being a child with a hyperfixation special interest in davy crocket and giving graphic details about jim bowie’s death that, frankly, 5th graders should probably not be exposed to.

in 6th grade, we were told we were getting a very special reward: a NEW FIELD TRIP DESTINATION. and not just ANY field trip destionation—no! we were going to go to one of the best art museums in the city to make SOCK PUPPETS as a part of an art installation. WHO DOESNT WANT TO DO THIS? THIS IS SO FUCKING COOL.

6th grade cisboys obviously do not want to do this. art museums are for girls or weird kids and sock puppets are for babies.

well, fuck that: i wanted to make sock puppets. i got so excited. i picked my favorite pair of turtle socks to turn into puppets and brought them along on our hour-long bus ride, practically vibrating in my seat like oh yeah oh fuck oh yeah oh fuck im gonna get to make TURTLE SOCK PUPPETS it was going to be the highlight of my LIFE

so our bus finally parks and im like “wait. this isnt...the museum” and then my 6th grade english teacher, whom i loathed for so many good reasons but mostly that he was one of Those english teachers who would reply “i don’t know, CAN you?” if you asked him if you could go to the bathroom, etc, popped out on the front of the bus

“surprise!” he announced, practically radiating sunshine rainbows and like whatever it is that makes annoying grammar nerds decide that they need to grow up and become a heinous 6th grade english teacher that bullies neurodivergent kids with trauma, “i was KIDDING! we were never going to go make SOCK PUPPETS at that stupid ART MUSEUM! that’s KID STUFF. we’re going BOWLING with a PIZZA PARTY!!!”

like any neurodivergent child who has just had their entire day’s plan and all their hopes and dreams ripped from them, i immediately tackled him and gnawed his hands and feet off, stuck them on pikes, and paraded them around the bowling alley as a lesson to all those who should cross me.

no i didn’t do that: i cried for a while and then sucked it up and determined that i was going to have a good time anyway. despite the fact that a) i already hated bowling and was demonstrably bad at it b) couldn’t wear bowling shoes because of my orthodics c) couldn’t eat any of the pizza party pizza anyway because my mother is chabadnik and kept strict kosher d) as a chabadnik kid i was wearing a floor-length skirt which really isn’t conducive to bowling and e) I HAD FUCKING WANTED TO MAKE FUCKING SOCK PUPPETS.

anyway. there was this guy. who i had a crush on. and everyone knew i had a crush on him, including him. his name was grey (not some 50 shades of grey thing, really) and he got someone to come get me and was like hey grey wants to talk to youuuuu~~~~~~ and i was like oh (gasp) (blush) (sputter) he does???

so i went over to talk to him like hee hee hi grey hee hee and it turned out he’d just wanted to ask me some inane question and i was understandably let down and went back to my friends like w/e it’s just stupid boys shit™

only

when i arrived back at my friends

everyone was laughing at me.

which was like. not an entirely unexpected turn of events. i broke my nose twice that year. i kicked over an entire jar of soy wax candle onto my ankle and got a 2nd degree burn. i was, in general, a very weird, unmedicated, undiagnosed, orthodox jewish child with too much energy and a penchant for starting fights. getting laughed at was kind of par for the course.

only people kept laughing at me until one of my friends realized as i turned around what they’d done to me, because one of his friends had taped a sign to my back that said “I AM A STUPID BITCH”

texas public school says “we didn’t see this happen, we can’t do anything about it, not our problem!” so of course i hate bowling now. but this is not where this ended, oh no. because i had been tried. i had been bullied by this same kid all year and nobody would do shit about it. i could not stop him. i could not get teachers to intervene.

which is fine.

because, you see, if you give a furious small child with a black belt in karate and an unusually early growth spurt four months to plan, that small child with a black belt in karate and an unusually early growth spurt will bide their time, and wait, patiently, for the stars to align and the ultimate moment of vengeance to arrive.

you see, texas schools do this thing. at the end of may for the end of the school year, they have a track and field day. it’s different for every school—some of them do races, some of them have big tug of war and different sports for different grades. some are organized. some are chaotic nightmares.

my school was a chaotic nightmare of a place. they simply booted all of us outside in a normal 100f/37c day to get our energy out by running about, playing minimally policed “sports” and generally make a nuisance of ourselves outside, rather than indoors.

that year it was particularly hot, probably closer to 110f/40c than not, so they left out these big trash bins of water for people to stick their heads in or get buckets to pour over them to cool off. i had no sports i could play (see: floor length skirt, and also, you know, the eds kinds of makes it difficult to do shit) so rather than get involved in something to burn out my energy...i waited.

i waited through the semi-organized sports of the morning. i waited through our indoors luncheon. i waited until the free for all of the afternoon, when teachers were not paying attention.

i waited until the kid who had decided that it would be sooooo funny to tape a sign about how much of a bitch i was because i had a harmless crush on his friend to my back was playing volleyball. invested. entranced.

i went and got a trash bin of water, probably taller than i was, weighing at least triple what i did (i was a pound per inch until i was 13, so i was 63in tall and 63lbs at that time) and i dragged it down the hill. i dragged it over to the volleyball court. i opened the lid. i placed it, strategically, behind me.

there sat the subject of my ire. playing volleyball. he had not noticed me. every other kid had noticed me. his friends did not take me seriously. i was two twigs stuck together with sticky tac. what was i going to do to him?

well, see, they didn’t know i did karate.

i walked up behind the kid, calmly, cool as you please, grabbed him around the waist—

—and suplexed him backwards upside-down headfirst into the trash bin full of water and dropped him into it. and then i shut the lid on him as he tried to get turned around and spluttering, dusted my hands off, and walked away.

we ended up going to the same high school, and he saw me literally one time in the hallways and ran away so fast i would’ve thought he’d just been recognized by his unfinished homework or the three girls he was cheating on because he was football team quarterback. he did that for two years. literally never came within 20ft of me. fucking terrified of me.

anyway, that’s why i hate bowling. and is also the story of the time i suplexed a kid backwards into a trashcan full of water.

#this is a stable writing tag

[lynderman]

𝙂𝙡𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙨𝙚 𝙊𝙛 𝙐𝙨 (Robin Arellano) Pt.2  

Pairing: Robin Arellano x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,412

Date Published: 8/6/22

Tags: Angst, AU, Alternate Universe, Heartbreak, breakups, (past) fluff, eventual Vance Hopper X Reader, time-skips, flashbacks, confessions, fighting.

Description: (This AU Has no grabber what so ever. It's just with the characters. I'm also making them all 16-17 just because it seems better to me lol.)

You and Robin had been dating for quite a while. It all went downhill When he began to get into fights again. A bit later, you get with someone else. How will Robin handle seeing you with someone who isn't him?

Full Chapterlist

(taglist)

@jackie-xoxo

@jadearellano

@wowwontonsoup

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

'𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴

Your Chemistry teacher Mr. Clark, hadn't arrived yet. That was pretty typical of him considering he lived on the opposite side of town. Your class normally got a good 10 minuets of freedom before he showed up. Today, it felt like he would never get there. Or maybe it was the fact that you could still see Robin beating the shit out of Moose. It didn't help your table was right in front of the door either, so you had a perfectly good view of everything going down. After Moose stopped moving, Robin seemed to be satisfied enough to get off of him. You saw his mouth move, but everyone was talking too loudly for you to understand him. All you heard was something along the lines of: "You say some shit like that again, and you won't be getting back up."

You'd definitely heard better ending lines from him.

As the small crowd around him dispersed, you could see the ungodly amount of blood dripping from his fists. It took everything in you to not walk- no. Sprint. Sprint to him to make sure he didn't hurt himself too badly. But you couldn't do that. Could you…? Well, you most definitely could have. That's if Paige hadn't beaten you to it.

Paige Smith.

She made your blood boil. The sight of her. The smell of her expensive perfume. Even her name made you want to throw her to the ground and beat her unconscious. You hated everything about her. Her long auburn hair. Her perfect white teeth. Her clear porcelain skin. Everything. But the thing you hated most? Was the fact she used to date Robin. For a while to say the least.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

(Flashback)

𝘚𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴

You and your mom had moved to Denver shortly after your 12th birthday. The two of you had traveled from Texas after your father passed away. As stereotypical as it may sound, your mom had wanted to give you a 'Fresh Start'. What she was really saying what that without your father, she didn't have the money to keep you in your current school. It was one for 'troubled teens'. She didn't have the discipline your father did either. So she hoped that moving might change that.

It did for a while.

When you did move, it wasn't close to being disciplined at all. Your mom picked up a new job that took all of her time. So it was just you again. You didn't exactly love the idea of switching to a new school either. Sure, you had no friends to begin with. but it would be even harder to restart again. At least none of the kids knew anything about you here. Hopefully.

Your first day of 7th grade was interesting to say the least. The first thing you saw after walking to the main building was a kid beating up some other kid. I mean, beating up. You soon discovered that it was Robin who was beating up Moose. It seemed to be a pattern. You watched from behind a girl who was cheering for Robin the entire time. After the fight was done with and everyone was leaving, some boy accidentally bumped into you when he was catching a baseball. That caused you to be pushed forward onto the girl in front of you. The girl fell onto the grass. She whined loudly as she got up and turned to face you. Her white dress now had a dark grass stain in the center.

If looks could kill, you would have been 6 feet under. You just looked at her and began to walk away. That was before she grabbed your wrist a bit too hard. "Well? Aren't you going to say something?" You shoved her off of you and shrugged. "Like what?" She scoffed. "Sorry maybe?" You sighed and forced a smile. "I'm sorry." Paige opened her mouth to say something but you cut her off. "Sorry you look like Lucielle Ball on crack." The look on her face was priceless. She took a step forward, trying to shove you but all you had to do was step out of the way.

So you did.

She fell. Again. This time, in some rain puddle from the storm last night. She screamed for Robin and he came over. He looked around as a smaller crowd formed around you. "Who did it?" He asked. Everyone pointed to you. His eyes turned to meet yours. He was probably expecting some equally snobby girl who looked like Paige. Not a 12 year old girl who was was the same height as him with equally distressed clothing. He took a few steps towards you and stopped. "Are you gonna apologize?"

"Why would I?"

"Because that was rude." You scoffed. "And you beating that other dude senseless wasn't?" You ask. He doesn't say anything. "That's different." You raise an eyebrow. "How?" Silence again. "He was talking shit." You shrug. "It's not my fault some kid ran into me." He opened his mouth again, but you cut him off. (Again.) "Look, I'm sorry that your girlfriend here is an entitled brat who can't stand up for herself so she needs her miniature sized boyfriend to take care of her problems for her."

You should be 12 feet under with the glare he was giving you.

Robin rose his fist but hesitated to punch you. "What? Are you gonna stop cause I'm a girl?" He hit you after you finished your sentence. Not in the face though. Just in the shoulder. It did hurt, but you weren't gonna let that get to you. Robin swung again, but you dodged him. Instead, you turned around and kicked the back of his left knee, making him fall. He turned over on the ground attempting to get up. But before he got the chance, you kicked him in the groin which made him stop right then and there. You stomped on his stomach for good measure. But not too hard. Just enough for him to stay down.

There was no cheering. No clapping. Nothing. Just silence as everyone watched one of the toughest kids in school lie defenseless on the grass. You looked between the two of them. "Now I expect an apology from both of you for waisting my time." Neither of them said anything. Before either of them could do anything, you walked away and made your way to the nurses office.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘈 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴

"Awww Robbie!" Ever since you met Paige, she had always called him that. Even when it was You dating Robin and not her. You could tell he hated it. The way it made his body tense and him shrink in his stance. She didn't seem to though. You watched as Paige made her way to Robin. He tried to dismiss shoo her away. That was until he saw you looking over at him. Right after he did, he was all over her. Putting his hands in hers, using her for support to walk. Anything he could think of. You could've sworn you saw him smirk.

You'd be lying if you said that didn't Hurt. It didn't hurt that he was doing anything. It hurt because you didn't know if he was doing It to make you jealous. Or if he had already moved on. You prayed it was the first one. Just as Mr.Clark walked into the lab, you saw Robin whisper something to Paige. The two of them soon walked off towards the basement bathrooms.

Halfway through Chemistry you needed to go to the bathroom. Mr. Clark dismissed you and you left. As you walked through the halls, you debated your options. Did you want to go to the first floor bathrooms where the line was all the way out the door? Or risk it and head to the basement bathrooms. You didn't want to be late to 2nd period so you took your chances with the basement. As you rounded the corner, you could hear Paige's giggling and the sound of laughter.

𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘋𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥?

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

#the black phone #tbp #xreader #reader insert #angst #robin arellano #finney blake #female reader #slow burn #Robin Arellano x reader #the black phone x reader #x reader series #series #robinsrelic

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

I cannot even describe how much I hate my school.

I hate their policies, their staff- I hate the institution as a whole.

Rant below:

It's a for profit (read: expensive) school that does not deliver anything that is up to par with the price.

The ultrasound lab is tiny, with only 6 ultrasound machines. Two machines are pretty good, one is fine, and the rest are fucking abysmal. They are what is referred to as "non diagnostic", meaning that you'd never use them to scan a patient. The image quality is so low it's like staring at TV static. But I was forced to take my competency (scanning test) on the worst machine in the lab. It was so awful that by the end, I felt like I couldn't see anything because I'd basically been staring at TV static for 45 minutes straight. My teacher even said that the machine sucks and that when you turn the gain (the brightness) up, it only makes the image more fuzzy. But yeah, I was forced to use it on my competency. And I was the only one who had to use that machine! I haven't gotten my grade back yet but I know it will be awful. And if I fail, I will have to do remediation with my teacher where we go over my images and he tells me what's wrong with them. I can already tell you what's wrong with them- the machine is a piece of shit. Also if I fail, I will have to retake it, but I am only allowed a grade of 75. I'm not the type of person to blame my short comings or failures on things outside of myself, but come on...

And when I spoke to my teacher about it after class (privately) he brushed me off. He told me he wouldn’t penalize me for the fuzzy, subpar, low quality images- but that was only half the point. I was trying to communicate to him that the issue was the machine quality + my eyes being completely fried by the tv static appearance + the horrible quality nearly threw me into a panic attack + I was the only one who had to use that machine. But he didn’t listen. And I know that he won’t take what I said (what little I was able to say before he interrupted) into account.

And the rules... oh my god. Your attendance and professionalism are rolled into one grade that is referred to as your "professionalism grade". You can get points deducted for missing class, being late, not having your textbooks, etc. And I have to laugh. Like, I went to an actual university before attending this two year program, and The fucking University of Texas as Austin did not deduct points if a student doesn't have a textbook one day. It's like we're in middle school.

Plus, this whole attendance / professionalism thing is bullshit. They said at the start of the program that if you have to miss class because of an extenuating circumstance, they will understand. But they do not understand. There is zero understanding. My classmate's brother was just murdered. Brutally murdered. She missed class yesterday to attend his memorial, and they gave her a zero for her professionalism. You're telling me that the murder of her brother isn't an extenuating circumstance?

The school as a whole has no empathy or understanding for their students.

One of my teachers also constantly eavesdrops and polices our conversations. Even when we're talking quietly in a small group during break time, she butts in. She makes judgmental comments and has to lecture us at least once a week about how we don't have it that bad. She's one of those "if it was bad for me, it should be bad for you" kind of teachers. She's always like "well when I was in school I was a full time student and working full time and doing clinical full time and I was a full time wife and a full time mother" and I just simply DO. NOT. CARE. She just wants to invalidate us and what we're going through. And she does it at every turn. She's actually done the whole "oh, let me play a song for you on the worlds tiniest violin" bit and she thinks it's sOoOoOo funny. She told a classmate of mine that he "isn't allowed" to say that he's tired when he only got 5 hours of sleep, because she "only ever gets about 2 hours of sleep"- and she says it like it's a flex. Maam, you're gonna be dead and buried at 50 if you dont sleep. Thats not something to brag about. And not sleeping is not going to help us succeed with our academics. This teacher has told us to not sleep and to skip meals in order to study- but doing those things will only make retaining the information harder.

Plus, the teachers know how fucking stressed we are and they don't care. They know the program is really hard in regard to subject matter, but they make it even worse because they are horrible when it comes to scheduling and communication. First semester, we were told we would never have a test the week before finals because it's not fair. But second and third semester, my teacher has casually added another test the week before finals as though it's not a big deal. They're constantly adding and changing test/ quiz dates- and it's never in out favor. Plus, our two teachers always make it so that we have tests / quizzes back to back. We have class Monday through Thursday, but they always choose to put their tests /quizzes on Monday and Tuesday.

Generally speaking, it feels like sabotage after sabotage after sabotage. It feels like they are setting us up to fail. I'm dreading my competency grade. I'm dreading the next two semesters. I'm so miserable.

#chcp

[vince-linder]

Rockerboy origins

Just a lil bit of fluff for my own HC. The first meeting of Kerry and Johnny, in elementary school, back in rural Texas. Johnny still get called Robert, cause. Its his first name, and he probs changed how he want to get called after war.

It was a normal Monday morning in College Station, a usual warm summer day was about to start, the birds were chirping and the bees humming. "I don't wanna go back to this school, mum!", the small boy, may seven or eight years old looked up at his mother, hands on his hips and an angry look on his face. Brown eyes searching the gaze of his mother, but she was busy making breakfast. "You have to go, Robert. You are learning many important things for your later life." "Urghs. I am learning nothing important! They just keep us caged up. And I don't need all of this! I wanna be an artist when I am grown up!" "Stop with this stupid dream, Robert. You have to learn to get a proper job in the future."

"But I don't wanna have a 'proper' job. I wanna be free and do what I want!" "Robert John Linder!", her voice raised, not to an angry tone but enough to warn the young boy. "This talk is over. Get ready, I drove you over in ten."

"Yes Mum."

Half an hour later he was sitting in his classroom, in the last row and sitting direct next to the window. Robert was tilting his chair back and forth, playing around with it. He was bored. This whole building made him bored whenever he saw it. In the time he was caged up here, Robert dreamed of being outside, undergoing wild adventures, finding treasures and secret locations. Staring outside, seeing the sunrays dance through the green leaves of the nearby trees, just waiting for him to be climbed. To build a treehouse out of the dead branches and make it his fort. His private kingdom where everyone has to live according to his rules and decisions. If he would proclaim icecream for breakfast, it would be icecream for breakfast every day! He saw a squirrel running up the tree. This was of course one of the inhabitants of his kingdom. Sir Squeaky the First. A noble warrior, fighting for justice and nuts. "Robert! Sit straight!" The boy shifts his gaze to the front, a sigh escaping his lungs. As so often he didn't hear the bell, nor the teacher entering the class. Robert stops tilting his chair and scoots closer to his table with it. Playing around with his pencil was soothing, and far more fun than whatever the teacher was telling them to do or not to do. A pencil, the set square on the backside of it and it was nearly a plane. Ready to fight for the kingdom of the tree warriors. It would throw down nuts to every enemy of freedom. "You can sit next to Robert." This was the thing getting him out of his thoughts. Nobody ever should be next to him, he hated it. The other kids here were terrible. His gaze shifted, looking at the person who was seated next to him. Robert's face gets confused and he tilts his head. That kid was new.

"Who are you?" The new kid looks a bit shy, sitting down next to Robert and packing away his backpack. Robert openly stared at him. The new kid wasn't from here clearly. His taint was far too dark for this region, and his eyes looked... different. "Name's Kerry.", the boy looked at Robert, a small smile on his face, far too friendly.

"Kerry? That's a girl's name."

"NO! It's not!", Kerry looks totally offended, pouting slightly and crossing his arms. "Hangal."

Robert blinks, tilting his head again. This felt like an insult. But he never heard that word.

"What?!"

Kerry was still pouting, trying to ignore the bully next to him and follow the class. But Robert starts to flip little balls of paper at him, trying to get his attention back. When this 'boy' was sitting next to him, he had at least listened to him.

"Come on! What they tell is just boring. Tell me what you said!" "Called you a, uh. 'Hangal'.", Kerry looks up shortly, stopping his writing for a second. "A what now?"

"Someone incredibly dumb and stupid?" Kerry thinks for a moment, not finding the English word.

"You mean.. an idiot?" Robert tilts his head again, insults in another language. This was perfect. "Can you teach me more insults?"

"What?"

Kerry looks up, finally putting down his pencil. He looks up to Robert's face, brown eyes meeting, and sees the playfulness to his eyes. Kerry starts smiling. "Only if you teach me the English ones." "Cool. Yeah, I'll do. What language is that?" "Tagalog. I am from the philippines." "Never heard that." Robert smiled at the other boy. "But explain your look."

"And here everyone looks dumb?" Robert frowns, but starts giggling silently. "Uh-hu." They both try to contain their laughter, sitting next to each other and sharing lighthearted jokes. Until the teacher got enough of their shenanigans. "Be silent back there and follow the class! Robert, don't you dare to distract our new classmate!"

"Sorry, Mr. Johnson." both say in union. They lowered their voices, and kept on talking silently.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #kerry eurodyne #to be silverdyne later #johnny get called robert cause its pre war #hope I used the tagalog word atleast a bit right xD #Johnny has adhd and you cannot change my mind

[reasoningdaily]

Arkansas appears to be trying to compete against Florida and Texas in the White and Fragile Red State Olympics, and, specifically, the sport of stifling Black history.

Earlier this month, we reported that the Arkansas Department of Education just up and decided two days before classes started that it would not recognize a new Advanced Placement course on African American history for course credit for the 2023-24 school year. Now, the department is demanding that every K-12 school in a six-district radius turn over all of their African American studies materials so they can be scanned for violations of the state’s anti-critical race theory law.

MORE: The Importance Of African American Studies

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Here’s another way to put that: Arkansas and its governor, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, are out here confiscating Black history because it might violate anti-CRT standards they propagandized into anti-CRT legislation. It’s basically iron sharpening iron if both blades of iron are actually white supremacy.

But seriously, is government officials using anti-“woke” propaganda as a green light to invade places of learning and demand educational materials be turned over for inspection not exactly the kind of thing that links right-wingers to fascism? Please tell me the same people who boast that the government would have to pry their guns from their “cold dead hands”—despite no notable effort by government officials to confiscate citizens’ guns anywhere in America—are not going to stand for history books being taken by way of government overreach. (Yes, I understand that they’re public schools. No, that doesn’t make the optics any less Orwellian, not to mention racist AF.)

Ok, but let’s be fair here. After all, maybe the department has some reason to believe dangerous messages are being spread to indoctrinated school students. Perhaps schools are teaching step-by-step “kill whitey” instructions or, as conservatives often suggest, teaching Black kids to hate America and white kids ot hate themselves.

Let’s just take a look at what they’re so concerned about.

“Given some of the themes included in the pilot, including ‘intersections of identity’ and ‘resistance and resilience,’ the Department is concerned the pilot may not comply with Arkansas law, which does not permit teaching that would indoctrinate students with ideologies, such as Critical Race Theory (CRT), (See Ark. Code Ann. § 6-16-156, as amended by Section 16 of the LEARNS Act),” the letter sent out to the superintendents of the districts reads.

“To assist public school employees, representatives, and guest speakers at your district in complying with the law, please submit all materials, including but not limited to the syllabus, textbooks, teacher resources, student resources, rubrics, and training materials, to the Department by 12:00 pm on September 8, 2023, along with your statement of assurance that the teaching of these materials will not violate Arkansas law or rule. Items can be scanned and emailed to [email protected].”

Well, there you have it, good people. The Arkansas Department of Education has important work to do here! The school districts in this great state simply cannot be left to their own devices lest the children—the precious, impressionable children—be insidiously indoctrinated by horrific lessons on—God, I can hardly even say it—”intersections of identity” and “resistance and resilience.”

Again, Arkansas wants to be Florida so bad. The Sunshine (or sundown) state is requiring lessons about enslaved people benefiting from slavery, and accepting “educational” materials from PragerU, a demonstrably racist organization that teaches children that Frederick Douglass would agree slavery was a necessary evil to preserve America. Now, Arkansas is picking up the white nationalist indoctrination tiki torch by eliminating Black studies materials that teach about the “resistance” and the “resilience” of oppressed people.

This is white supremacy at work. This is exactly what critical race theory was created to examine.

SEE ALSO:

Florida Approves Teaching Students That Slaves Benefited From Slavery

Florida’s New Black History Curriculum Whitewashes Slavery, Victim-Shames African Americans, Critics Say

#Arkansas Moves To Confiscate All African American Studies Materials Over Critical Race Theory Fears #arkansas #white supremacy terrified #white lies #white lies revealed #schools #education