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expertacademicassignmenthelp · 1 year ago

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How Can You Make Your Assignment Better?

Crafting high-quality assignments is a fundamental aspect of academic success, requiring a strategic approach and attention to detail. Let’s involve into a detailed discussion on each of the provided guidelines for improving assignment writing skills:

1. Understanding the Assignment Prompt

The assignment prompt serves as a roadmap for your task, outlining the expectations and requirements set by your instructor. Without a clear understanding of the prompt, you risk deviating from the intended focus and missing key elements necessary for a successful assignment. To ensure comprehension, it’s essential to break down the prompt into manageable components, identify keywords, and clarify any uncertainties with your instructor. By mastering this step, you lay a solid foundation for the rest of your assignment.

2. Thorough Research

Research is the backbone of academic writing, providing the necessary evidence and context to support your arguments. However, effective research goes beyond a simple gathering of information; it involves critical evaluation and synthesis of diverse sources to construct a coherent narrative. By consulting a variety of reputable sources, such as academic journals, books, and credible websites, you can deepen your understanding of the topic and bolster the credibility of your arguments. Additionally, employing advanced search strategies, such as Boolean operators and database filters, can streamline the research process and yield more targeted results.

3. Clear Thesis Statement

The thesis statement serves as the central claim or argument of your assignment, guiding the direction of your analysis and providing a roadmap for your readers. A strong thesis statement is concise, specific, and debatable, offering a clear stance on the topic while leaving room for exploration and interpretation. To craft an effective thesis statement, it’s crucial to conduct preliminary research, identify key themes or patterns, and articulate a focused argument that aligns with the scope of your assignment. By establishing a solid thesis statement early on, you can maintain clarity and coherence throughout your writing process.

4. Creating an Outline

An outline is a roadmap that organizes your ideas and structures your assignment in a logical sequence. By outlining the main points, arguments, and supporting evidence, you can ensure that your assignment flows cohesively and addresses all necessary components. Additionally, an outline provides a visual representation of your assignment’s structure, allowing you to identify gaps in your argumentation or areas that require further development. To create an effective outline, consider using a hierarchical format, such as Roman numerals or bullet points, to delineate the main sections and subtopics of your assignment. By investing time in outlining, you can streamline the writing process and produce a more polished final product.

5. Adhering to Formatting Guidelines

Formatting guidelines dictate the presentation and organization of your assignment, ensuring consistency and professionalism across academic work. While formatting requirements may vary depending on the discipline or institution, common elements include font size, margins, spacing, and citation style. By familiarizing yourself with the specific formatting guidelines provided by your instructor or institution, you can avoid unnecessary errors and present your work in a standardized format. Additionally, utilizing formatting tools or templates, such as Microsoft Word’s built-in styles or citation managers like EndNote, can simplify the formatting process and save time during document preparation.

6. Writing Clear and Concise Sentences

Clarity is paramount in academic writing, as it enhances comprehension and facilitates effective communication of ideas. Clear and concise sentences convey information efficiently, minimizing ambiguity and maximizing impact. To achieve clarity, it’s essential to use precise language, avoid unnecessary jargon or complex syntax, and structure sentences logically. Additionally, incorporating transition words and phrases, such as “however,” “therefore,” and “in addition,” can enhance coherence and flow between ideas. By prioritizing clarity and conciseness in your writing, you can engage your readers more effectively and convey your arguments with precision.

7. Supporting Arguments with Evidence

Evidence serves as the backbone of persuasive writing, providing support for your claims and lending credibility to your arguments. Whether in the form of empirical data, scholarly research, or real-world examples, evidence should be relevant, reliable, and effectively integrated into your assignment. To effectively support your arguments with evidence, it’s essential to critically evaluate sources, consider alternative perspectives, and provide sufficient context for interpretation. Additionally, employing proper citation techniques, such as direct quotations or paraphrasing, ensures academic integrity and acknowledges the contributions of other scholars. By prioritizing evidence-based reasoning, you can strengthen the persuasiveness of your arguments and demonstrate your mastery of the subject matter.

8. Proper Source Citation

Accurate citation of sources is essential for maintaining academic integrity and avoiding plagiarism. Proper citation acknowledges the contributions of other scholars, provides context for your arguments, and allows readers to locate the original source material. Depending on the citation style specified by your instructor or institution, you may be required to include in-text citations, footnotes, or a bibliography/reference list. To ensure proper source citation, it’s important to familiarize yourself with the conventions of your chosen citation style and apply them consistently throughout your assignment. Additionally, utilizing citation management tools, such as Zotero, Mendeley, can streamline the citation process and minimize errors.

9. Revision and Editing

Revision and editing are essential stages of the writing process, allowing you to refine your ideas, clarify your arguments, and improve the overall quality of your assignment. Revision involves reviewing your work from a macro perspective, focusing on content, structure, and argumentation, while editing focuses on micro-level elements such as grammar, punctuation, and style. To effectively revise and edit your assignment, it’s helpful to approach the task systematically, taking breaks between drafts to gain fresh perspective and utilizing feedback from peers, instructors, or writing tutors. Additionally, employing self-editing techniques, such as reading your work aloud or using grammar-checking software, can help identify errors and inconsistencies that may have been overlooked.

9. Careful Proofreading

Proofreading is the final step before submission, ensuring that your assignment is free from errors and polished to perfection. While it may seem tedious, careful proofreading is essential for maintaining professionalism and credibility in academic writing. To effectively proofread your assignment, it’s helpful to approach the task methodically, focusing on one aspect at a time (e.g., spelling, grammar, punctuation) and utilizing tools such as spell-checkers or style guides for assistance. Additionally, seeking feedback from peers or mentors can provide valuable insights and help identify areas for improvement. By dedicating time and attention to proofreading, you can ensure that your assignment meets the highest standards of quality and excellence.

Incorporating these guidelines into your writing process can significantly enhance the quality of your assignments and contribute to your academic success. By prioritizing clarity, coherence, and evidence-based reasoning, you can effectively communicate your ideas, engage your readers, and achieve your academic goals. Additionally, seeking assistance from resources such as Expert Academic Assignment Help can provide valuable support and guidance, helping you navigate complex assignments and overcome challenges along the way. Remember, improvement takes time and effort, but with dedication and practice, you can elevate your assignment writing skills to new heights and achieve academic excellence.

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robertreich · 3 months ago

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Combine this with Trump’s attacks on higher education — his gutting the funding of the National Institutes of Health (which provides a large portion of biomedical research) and the National Science Foundation (engineering and computer research) and his effective closure of USAID (which underwrites research in global diseases). Put this together with Trump’s attacks on the freedom of speech of university students and professors. And with Trump’s (and RFK Jr.’s) attacks on vaccine science. With Trump’s and right-wing governors’ attacks on teaching the truth in our schools about America’s history of slavery and Native American genocide. Combine this with Trump’s attack on America’s libraries — last week’s executive order mandating cuts in the funding of libraries around the country — which will jeopardize literacy development and reading programs, reliable internet access for those without it at home, and homework help and other resources for students and educators. And his attacks on America’s museums (the same executive order cut their funding, too). And his attack on the arts, as illustrated by Trump’s takeover of the Kennedy Center (last month, he announced himself its new chair, replaced 13 board members, and inserted a new interim president). What’s the larger picture? Not an “attack on the liberal state,” as I keep reading. Not “the culmination of Trump’s culture wars.” Certainly not that Trump is seeking “small government” over “big government” or advancing traditional conservatism over traditional liberalism. What’s really occurring is an attack on the American mind.

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mothermara · 2 years ago

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its so sad when 14 year old white girls are on the internet saying shit like "girlrotting" and "female manipulator" why don't you female manipulate going on a walk this afternoon instead of being on your phone, okay? and then maybe we can sit down at the table and I'll try to help you get a start on your science homework? I love you sweetie I just think maybe purposefully framing despair and frustration as though they're a holy part of the divine feminine is damaging to your mental health

#ezzy.txt

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misfitwashere · 3 months ago

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Trump's attack on the American mind

Behind his closure of the Education Department, his assault on higher education, on science, and on libraries and museums, lie the oligarchs of the techno-state.

ROBERT REICH

MAR 20

Friends,

Today, Trump is dismantling the Department of Education. He’s ordering wrestling executive-turned-Education Secretary Linda McMahon to shut her department.

His executive order will effectively destroy a $100 billion-a-year executive department created by Congress under President Jimmy Carter 45 years ago.

But there’s a much larger plan here.

Put this together with Trump’s (and RFK Jr.’s) attacks on vaccine science,

Combine this with Trump’s attacks on the freedom of speech of university students and professors.

And Trump’s and rightwing governors’ attacks on teaching the truth in our schools about America’s history of slavery and Native American genocide.

Put this together with Trump’s attack on America’s libraries — last week’s executive order mandating cuts in the funding of libraries around the country — which will jeopardize literacy development and reading programs, reliable internet access for those without it at home, and homework help and other resources for students and educators.

Combine this with his attacks on America’s museums (the same executive order cut their funding, too). And his attack on the arts, as illustrated by Trump’s takeover of the Kennedy Center (last month, he announced himself its new chair, replaced 13 board members, and inserted a new interim president).

What’s the larger picture? What’s the overall purpose?

Not to mount an “attack on the liberal state,” as I keep reading. Not “a culmination of Trump’s culture wars.” Or that Trump seeking “small government” over “big government,” or is advancing traditional conservatism over traditional liberalism.

What’s really occurring is an attack on the American mind.

Throughout history, tyrants have understood that their major enemy is an educated citizenry. Slaveholders prohibited slaves from learning to read. Nazi’s burned books.

Ignorance is the handmaiden of tyranny.

Those who believe in democracy, on the other hand, have been at the forefront of the movement for free, universal public education; and for public libraries, museums, and the arts. They understand that democracy depends on people knowing what’s occurring around them and having the capacity to deliberate critically about it.

Trump is only the frontman in this attack on the American mind.

The attack is really coming from the anti-democracy movement: From JD Vance; and from Vance’s major financial backer, venture capitalist Peter Thiel, who staked $15 million on Vance’s Ohio senatorial election in 2022 and helped convince Trump to make Vance vice president; and from Thiel’s early business partner, Elon Musk.

Thiel is a self-styled libertarian who once wrote: “I no longer believe that freedom and democracy are compatible.”

Hello? Freedom is incompatible with democracy only if you view democracy as a potential constraint on your wealth and power.

Behind Vance and Musk is a libertarian community of rich crypto bros, tech executives, back-to-the-landers, and disaffected far-right intellectuals.

Curtis Yarvin comes as close as anyone as being their intellectual godfather. He has written that political power in the United States is held by a liberal amalgam of universities and the mainstream media whose commitment to equality and justice is eroding America’s social order.

In Yarvin’s view, democratic governments are inefficient and wasteful. They should be replaced with sovereign joint-stock corporations whose major “shareholders” select an executive with total power, who serves at their pleasure. Yarvin refers to the city-state of Singapore as an example of a successful authoritarian regime.

Make no mistake: Trump’s attack on the American mind — on education, science, libraries, and museums — is an attack on the capacity of Americans for self-government.

It is coming from the oligarchs of the techno-state who believe democracy is inefficient, and want to replace it with an authoritarian regime replete with technologies they control.

Be warned.

#robert reich

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twlgholts · 8 days ago

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what comes after, p. parker

chapter two, sugar rush

— peter parker x f. reader

a/n: this scene in the movie... wow... still dont have much planned for this but i am yearning to write more angst so watch out

word count: 5k

warnings: angst, insinuation of mental health, underage alcohol usage, suggestiveness

prev. series masterlist. next.

May always bragged to her friends about Peter like he was a miracle she got to keep. He was her sunbeam, her secret weapon, the bright spot she flaunted at dinner parties and across picket fences. Stories spilled from her like confetti—how he fixed the toaster with a paperclip and some duct tape, how he won a science fair with a last-minute project, how he never hesitated to help an elderly neighbor carry groceries up five flights of stairs. She’d lean in like it was a secret, like she was sharing news about a diamond engagement ring, not a scrawny teenager with chronic bedhead and too much homework.

Peter Parker was Maybelle Reilly’s pride and joy—her patchwork of everyone she’d ever loved and lost. Her late husband Ben’s morality. Her brother-in-law’s scholarship. Her sister-in-law’s quiet, unwavering courage. She liked to think the humor was from her. And the softness too, the gentleness he carried without even meaning to.

He’d always squirm when she praised him too much, rolling his eyes and muttering a “May, stop,” under his breath. But deep down, he soaked it in. Clung to it. Because it was the closest thing he had left to unconditional, maternal love.

He used to be proud of who he was becoming. Used to believe May when she’d whisper, “Your parents would be so proud. I am too.” Used to think there was a future worth chasing—MIT with Ned and MJ, Chemical-Biological Engineering, maybe a dorm room with a mini fridge and too many mugs, maybe a big adult job after that. Maybe love. Maybe a normal life. He used to think being Spider-Man didn’t have to mean giving all of that up.

But that was before.

Now he was lucky if he scraped enough together to afford both tuition and groceries. MIT was out of the question, so was anything resembling “normal.” Every day felt like a loop he couldn’t break—a cycle of survival, of choosing between who he wanted to be and who he had to be just to make it to the next morning.

And then Harry Osborn happened.

The kind of guy Peter never expected to end up friends with. If they’d crossed paths in high school, Peter probably would’ve kept his distance—believed the rumors without question. Too rich. Too polished. Too used to getting what he wanted. Spoiled. Arrogant. The type of person who made everything look easy and never had to try. The kind of person who, in Peter’s experience, never noticed kids like him, but somehow, Harry did.

Some of it was true, to be fair. Not all of it, though.

Harry was charming, but he didn’t use it like a weapon. It felt effortless, disarming even. He had this simple way of talking to people, of making them feel like they belonged. He was smarter than he let on—though, to be fair, Organic Chem wasn’t his thing, which, honestly, Peter respected. What caught Peter off guard was how quickly Harry made space for him. Like he could see the loneliness Peter tried so hard to hide and didn’t flinch from it. Introduced him to people, started calling him his “pocket whiz” in front of everyone. Made sure they ate lunch together, studied together, shared playlists and inside jokes.

He reminded Peter of Ned. But flashier. More popular. The kind of guy who still wore designer to class and could make quoting Tarantino sound cool. He was extroverted in a way that wasn’t exhausting—just comforting like a warmth he didn’t realize he missed until it was there again.

When Harry invited him over to his place, Peter didn’t expect a penthouse, but that’s exactly what it was. Glass walls from floor to ceiling, Empire State glittering outside like a painting. Everything was modern and sleek and white—like walking into a tech commercial. It reminded Peter a little too much of the Avengers Tower. A place meant to be looked at, not lived in, heavily lacking the homeliness his and May’s apartment had.

Harry was already at the counter, papers and pens splayed out like an academic crime scene. “God, I don’t know how much more of this class I can take,” he groaned, letting his head fall onto the granite with a thud.

Peter chuckled softly, thumbing through the mess in search of their assignment rubric. “We’re not even a month in.”

“Exactly! And I’m already dying. How am I supposed to survive another four months of this?”

Peter didn’t bother answering. Just held up the rubric with a small grin. “You’ll live. Now shut up and find your notes.”

Harry’s fingers toyed with a neon highlighter, but his mouth twisted into that familiar I-have-an-idea smirk. Peter looked up and braced himself.

“No,” Peter said, preemptively.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“I know that face. It means trouble.”

Harry leaned forward, elbows on the counter. “We should go to a party.”

Peter blinked. “What?”

“A party. This Saturday. My frat’s throwing it. You and me—we finish this dumb report tonight, and boom. Celebration.”

“That’s your idea of a reward?”

“Come on, man. Don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘I’d rather stay in and study’ types.”

“I mean… I am literally studying right now.”

“Exactly my point. You’re too serious, Parker. Too responsible. It’s weird.”

Peter snorted. “And yet here you are—studying with me.”

“Only because you’re my ticket to passing Orgo. But you? You need to loosen up. I’m doing this for you, honestly.”

Peter raised a brow. “You make it sound like a charity project.”

“Please. You’re mysterious. People dig that. But it’s giving ‘guy who had no friends in high school.’”

“I had friends,” Peter retorted, lips twitching. “Two, actually. And one of them was my girlfriend.”

Harry stared like he’d just been told the Earth was flat. “You dated? No way.”

Peter’s smile softened. “Yeah. Didn’t really work out.”

Harry nodded, surprisingly sincere. “That sucks. But hey—college is a fresh start. Time to live a little.”

Peter went back to scanning the rubric, but Harry’s voice lingered.

“Seriously, man. You’ve been to a party before, right?”

Peter shrugged. “One. Kind of. Girl on the Decathlon team threw.”

Harry blinked. “So… a nerd party.”

Peter didn’t deny it.

“All the more reason you should come. This one’s different—music, drinks, actual hot girls. Maybe they can help you pull that nose out of your books for once. Come on, say yes and we’ll lock in, crank this report out tonight. I’ll even buy you a slice after—New York’s finest.”

Peter let out a long breath and turned toward the glass. The skyline stretched out beyond the window—distant, glittering, almost unreal. May would’ve told him to go, probably with that warm little smile and a soft, don’t-overthink-it nudge on the shoulder. Tony would’ve rolled his eyes, called him a buzzkill, and slipped a shooter into his hands as he walked out the door. And somewhere between the memory of both of them—May’s gentle push, Tony’s loud encouragement—Peter figured maybe this was what trying to live instead of survive looked like.

Trying to say yes. Trying to move forward even if it meant opening the door to chaos again. Letting people in, even if those people were tall, rich, wildly reckless devils with too much charm and not enough impulse control—like Harry Osborn.

“Fine,” Peter muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “But I’m not dancing.”

Harry let out a whoop so loud it echoed off the marble floors. He spun dramatically in place like he’d just won an Oscar, nearly knocking over a stack of flashcards. “Ladies and gentlemen, we got him!” he shouted to absolutely no one. “Parker, you beautiful, reluctant bastard—you are officially the newest honorary brother of Beta Theta Pi.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Is that... allowed?”

Harry grinned, already pulling out his phone like he was about to make it real on the group chat. “I’m on the exec board. I can literally make up titles. And I just did. You’re now our Beta Whiz-in-Residence. Sworn in by the sacred rites of beer pong, blackout brunches, and the solemn vow to never, ever, text your ex after 2 a.m.”

He clapped Peter on the back with the force of a golden retriever greeting a mailman, nearly knocking the air out of him. “Congratulations, Parker. Your tragic little loner arc ends Saturday night. And don’t worry, man. You don’t have to dance. But statistically speaking, with the amount of tequila I plan to sneak you, and the sheer number of objectively gorgeous women who are going to be there in backless tops and bad decision-making moods… you’ll be moving your hips eventually.”

Peter blinked. “You sound like a warning label.”

“More like an experience,” Harry grinned. “I am the trip your mom told you not to take.”

Peter shook his head, already regretting this. “Just remember—I’m not wearing anything ridiculous. No leotards, no themed outfits.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Harry said, already heading for the fridge like he needed to chill champagne to celebrate, “we all say that until a girl offers to write her number on your bicep with lipstick.”

Peter sighed again, deeper this time. God help him.

To Peter’s deep, soul-sighing dismay, Harry had been right. It was fun. Stupid, sweaty, chaotic fun.

Peter had been trying to juggle work, school, and patrol like a clown with too many flaming swords. He hadn’t been out much, not really. Between closing shifts and midterms, his suit had spent more time folded in a drawer than swinging between skyscrapers. It made him antsy. Guilty. But New York had survived five years without him—what was one night?

Harry, as promised, loaded him up like a college-aged mule on Spring Break. Shots, chasers, seltzers that tasted like painkillers, and something vaguely berry-flavored that probably came from a bathtub. Was it ten shots now? Eleven? He lost count somewhere between his fourth and sixth beer. Harry had side-eyed him halfway through the night, muttering something about how he was way too good at this for a reformed nerd.

“Are you sure you were bullied in high school?” Harry asked, squinting. “You drink like you were prom king.”

Peter didn’t answer—he just handed him another can and yelled, “Shotgun or shut up.”

Thanks to radioactive spider venom, his metabolism burned through alcohol faster than Harry burned through trust funds. Every time the buzz began to slip away, he drank more. He wasn’t doing it because he liked it, he did it because it worked. For five minutes at a time, the ache behind his ribs went quiet.

A chorus of “Parker! Parker! Parker!” rang out from behind him as a squad of shirtless frat guys descended, their chests glowing with sweat and poorly-done tats. The beer pong table was war-torn and lopsided, but Peter held up the ping-pong ball with a sniper’s focus—one breath, one flick. The ball dropped with a splash into the final red cup on Harry’s side.

Chaos.

There was hooting, shoulder-shaking, and far too many sticky high-fives. Peter stood there with his arms in the air like a victorious Roman general. Harry whooped and pulled him into a mock-chest bump before dragging him away from the crowd.

“You’re having fun,” Harry accused, grinning so hard it was a miracle his face didn’t cramp.

“I’m having fun kicking your ass,” Peter shot back, his voice raised above the bass that was currently shaking the walls. Whoever was DJing had clearly decided volume over skill.

“Dude, were you genetically engineered for beer pong? I swear you're cheating.”

“Perfect aim,” Peter said smugly. “Born with it.”

“Or maybe it’s Maybelline. Either way, I'm calling steroids. Let’s go get a drink.”

“You’ve had plenty,” Peter warned.

“Says the guy who just cleared out my liquor cabinet like it owed him rent.”

Peter shrugged. “Didn’t feel anything. So I kept drinking.”

Harry flung an arm around his shoulder. “And now you feel good, huh? And you know how to stay feeling good? Keep drinking!”

Peter snorted but let himself be steered through the sweaty masses. Everything in this house was damp. The air. The walls. The furniture. There was a low-grade stickiness clinging to his jeans and he didn’t want to think about why.

“This place smells like an armpit and vomit,” he muttered.

Harry just grinned. “That’s tradition.”

They reached multi-gallon water cooler out back under a patio strung with flickering fairy lights. The jug vibrated slightly with the bass like it was alive. Harry filled a red solo cup and handed it over like it was holy water.

“Cheers to you, brother,” he said. “Beta-rade—my personal invention. Recipe’s a closely guarded secret.”

Peter eyed the lurid blue liquid. “You invented this?”

“Poured from the fountain of fraternity gods.”

“You talk like you're in a cult.”

“Correction: brotherhood,” Harry said, placing a hand over his heart.

Peter took a sip. It was like licking a battery.

“Ever thought of joining a frat?” Harry asked.

“I work at a video game store and live in a shoebox.”

“Which makes you relatable. They love you in there. You could be Beta Theta Pi’s comeback story. The underdog. The myth.”

Peter rolled his eyes just as something—or someone—caught his attention through the patio door.

You.

You were dancing in the living room, surrounded by your friends, swaying to the beat like you owned the night, and maybe you did. The flashing LEDs strobed between electric pink and harsh blue, lighting up your smile in pulses, like you were flickering in and out of a dream. Peter stood frozen, watching through the glass door like someone pressed against a window in a museum—close enough to see, but never to touch.

You laughed at something your friend shouted in your ear, your head tipping back just slightly, eyes scrunching at the corners, but he couldn’t hear it. The bass was too loud, the door too thick, the party too far removed from wherever you were in your own little orbit. He could only see it—the way your shoulders bounced, the way your mouth curved, the way you pressed a hand to your stomach like it was that funny—and suddenly he needed to hear it. Like actually hear it. Not imagine it. Not dream it. He wanted to know the exact pitch, the way it curled in the air, if it was quiet or loud or somewhere in between. He wanted to memorize it.

Every part of him sharpened into focus, as if you’d reached straight through the music, the noise, the glass, and tugged his thoughts out of his chest and wrapped them around your waist. You were the first beautiful thing he’d seen in weeks. And your laugh—the one he couldn’t hear—was the first thing he desperately wanted.

He stared. Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop.

Harry's voice cut through the trance. “Hey. Earth to Parker.”

Peter blinked. You were gone. He didn’t even realize his cup was still halfway to his lips.

Harry followed his gaze. “What were you looking at?”

“Nothing. Thought I recognized someone.”

Harry squinted toward the window, already mid-sentence. “Whatever. Anyway, I wa—oh! See that blonde chick? Pretty sure we made out once. Or twice? I think she might’ve blocked me, but it could be worth a shot.”

“Sounds promising.”

Harry disappeared with a wink and a strut, already halfway inside before Peter could think of a reason to stop him. And then he was alone. The buzz was gone. Evaporated. Burned off by the sudden rush of clarity that came with seeing you, with realizing he wasn’t drunk enough to have fun anymore. All that was left now was the hollow quiet that came after the music faded, even though the music hadn’t faded at all—it was still pounding, still shaking the walls and the ground beneath his feet. But it felt far away, like a song playing through the wall of an apartment that wasn’t his.

Peter tipped the rest of his drink into a soggy trash bag that reeked of backwash and warm beer, watching the liquid soak into the tissues thrown in there like it was bleeding. He couldn’t go back inside—not now, not like this. Not when the air in there was syrup-thick with sweat and perfume and the chemical tang of spiked fruit punch. Not when it was loud enough to drown out his thoughts, which was suddenly the last thing he wanted.

So he drifted. Through the backyard, past clusters of drunk strangers swaying in lawn chairs and hooking up behind trees like they thought they were subtle. The grass was matted and torn. Plastic cups and crushed cans littered the dirt like confetti after a parade no one remembered. His shoes stuck to the concrete with every step as he followed a trail of smeared footprints leading toward the side gate. He pushed it open, the hinges groaning in protest, and stepped out onto the quiet street.

Even quieter was the wraparound porch. A few stragglers wandered the sidewalk, laughing too loud or crying into their phones. Peter didn’t want to be part of any of it. He just needed… stillness.

The porch welcomed him like a forgotten corner of the universe—dimly lit, gently creaking under his weight. He rounded the corner, eyes still adjusting, and froze.

You were already there.

You were sitting on the a chair, one leg crossed over the other, nursing a half-full bottle of water like it was a glass of chilled champagne. The soft yellow porch light curved along your profile, catching the line of your cheekbone, the curve of your lip, the steady, quiet way your eyes lifted when Peter turned the corner.

He froze for a second. Not in fear—just in surprise. The good kind that caught in his throat and didn’t really feel like surprise at all. More like recognition.

“Uh… hey,” he said, awkward already. His hand twitched like he didn’t know where to put it. “You escaping the madness too?”

You smiled, and it landed like gravity—easy, natural, pulling him in.

“Designated babysitter tonight,” you said. “My friends wanted to freely be idiots.”

Your voice had that thing again. That honey-and-laughter thing. That warm pull through the chest that made his head quiet. He wasn’t used to that.

Peter laughed nervously, still hovering by the porch post like he needed clearance to exist there. “I, uh… I saw you earlier. Not in, like—a weird way. Just dancing.”

You tilted your head. “Thought I was blackout?”

“No! No, you were just—” He winced. “You looked like you were having fun. I mean, not like too much fun—just the right amount of—” He stopped himself. “I’ll shut up now.”

You laughed—actually laughed—and he swore it was better than the music. Not louder, not flashier. Just better. He wanted to hear it again. Preferably not as the punchline.

“Good music does that,” you said. “Doesn’t take alcohol to feel it.”

He smiled, half-relieved, half-dazzled. “Mind if I sit?”

You gestured to the empty chair beside you. “Go ahead.”

Peter sank down beside you like the air finally let him. The porch creaked faintly beneath the two of you. Inside, the music still pulsed behind the walls—muffled but relentless, like a distant heartbeat—but out here it was quieter. Safer. Out here, he wasn’t Spider-Man or an orphan or a nobody. He was just… sitting next to you. Breathing.

“So…” you started, glancing over at him, “you a brother?”

“Me?” He blinked like you’d asked if he was royalty. “Have you seen me?”

You smirked. “Yeah. I have.”

“I don’t really strike myself as the frat type,” he said. “I think I’d collapse under the weight of all the polos and golf clubs.”

“But I think you’re cute.” You shrugged, casual like it didn’t make his brain stutter. “Could totally be a Beta bro.”

He swallowed. Was that a joke? Were you serious? His brain screamed at him to say something cool, something smooth, but all he could do was stare a beat too long.

“Yeah? I’ve thought about it. I’ll keep that in mind,” he mumbled, fumbling like a deer on ice. “I’m, uh—Parker. Peter.”

You gave a tiny laugh, eyes glinting. “Nice to meet you, Parker Peter.”

“No—sorry—I mean Peter and then Parker.” He winced. “And you…?”

You told him your name, and something about the way you said it made it bloom in his chest like spring. He repeated it under his breath—just once—but the sound of it stuck. It looped in his brain like a melody he didn’t want to forget.

“Pretty,” he said before he could stop himself. His eyes widened. “I mean—pretty name. Not that you’re not—pretty. You are. You’re also—your name and your face are—”

You laughed again, softer this time. Kind. Not laughing at him. Laughing like maybe you didn’t mind how hard he was failing.

“You’re funny, Peter,” you said. “You go to ESU?”

He nodded, grateful for the subject change. “Yeah. Science, math, tech, but mostly natural sciences.”

“Bio major,” you said, pulling your water bottle into your lap. “Pre-med track. Or… at least, that’s the plan.”

Peter leaned back slightly in his chair, letting the cool night air settle around his shoulders. “Freshman?”

You nodded. “Same. And you don’t have to look so relieved—I promise I’m not about to ID-check you.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in that signature, sheepish way. “It’s not that. I’m just—bad at talking. Clearly.”

“Well,” you said, tilting your head toward him, “I like how you talk.”

He blinked. “You do?”

“Mhm.” Your eyes held on to his, steady, unreadable but soft. “Most people only know how to talk about themselves. You actually… listen.”

That landed somewhere deep in his chest. And it didn’t hurt, exactly—it just sat there, warm and unfamiliar. Most people didn’t notice that about him. Most people talked at Peter, not to him, and definitely not like this.

He offered a crooked smile. “Guess I’ve had a lot of practice being quiet.”

“Why? You shy?”

Peter shrugged. “Not really. Just… I don’t know. There’s always a lot going on in my head. Not all of it’s interesting.”

You rested your chin in your hand, elbow propped against the armrest. “Try me.”

He laughed a little, caught off guard by how seriously you said it. “Okay, uh… I was actually thinking earlier about how the human body is, like, seventy percent water, but we’re still so breakable.”

You raised a brow, amused. “That’s what you were thinking at a party?”

“I told you I was bad at talking.”

“No, you’re just weird in a good way,” you said, grinning. “Like the charming, kind of tragic scientist in a movie who accidentally invents time travel.”

Peter huffed a laugh. “I think I’m more like the background character who spills coffee on himself and gets written out in act two.”

“Mm, no,” you said, gaze flicking over him. “You’ve definitely got main character energy.”

And somehow, the way you said it made his ears go hot. You didn’t mean it in that ironic, postmodern way. You said it like you meant it.

He shifted in his seat, trying not to fidget. “So what about you? Besides being responsible and keeping your drunk friends from trouble, what do you do for fun?”

You stretched your legs out, the porch light catching a shimmer in your jeans. “Mm… hike a little. Read a lot. I like being outside when it’s cold—when everyone else is inside and it’s just me and my headphones.”

Peter nodded slowly. “That’s kind of poetic.”

“Kind of lonely,” you said. “But the good kind. You ever feel like that?”

“Yeah,” he said, surprised by how easily it came out. “I think I feel like that all the time.”

Your eyes lingered on him for a second longer than they needed to. Not pitying or curious, but just there. Present. He didn’t realize until that moment how rare that was. To be looked at like a whole person instead of just a name on a class roster, or a face in the crowd, or a secret.

Just him.

And you made it feel easy, like it wasn’t something he had to earn.

“So, Parker Peter,” you start, smirking again.

He groaned. “That’s never going away, is it?”

“Absolutely not,” you reply, grinning. “It’s part of your charm.”

He was about to respond—probably with something hopelessly unfunny—when the front door swung open and blonde stumbled out onto the porch, one boot half-off her foot and lip gloss smeared across her cheekbone.

Peter stood up too, instantly in motion. “She with you?”

You caught your friend just before she face-planted into a ceramic pot full of brittle mums. “Yup. Keeping her face away from hitting poles tonight.”

She squinted at Peter like she was solving a riddle. “Wait… are you the guy from the pong table? The hot one?”

Peter blinked. “That… depends?”

“She means you,” you answer for her, trying to hide your smile.

He stepped closer, gently taking her other arm and balancing her between you both. “Let me help you get her home.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

So the three of you started walking, slow and slightly lopsided, the blonde’s boots scuffing the sidewalk and her head bobbing like she was listening to a concert only she could hear. Her dorm was ten minutes away—completely opposite the direction of Peter’s apartment—but he didn’t say anything. If it meant spending more time near you, he’d have walked across the whole city.

The streets were quieter now. The night felt cooler than it had twenty minutes ago, like the buzz of the party had finally burned off and left only the hush of streetlamps and faraway traffic. The sky was cloudy but not dark, hazed over in a soft gray that made the world feel a little gentler. The blonde, meanwhile, began softly singing Toxic under her breath like it was a hymn.

“She's been stuck on this song all week,” you said, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“It’s a banger,” Peter offered.

“I’m not drunk,” your friend announced loudly.

“You’re literally hanging off two people,” you scold without looking at her.

“Solid core work,” Peter muttered. “Impressive plank form.”

Clearly still drunk, she groaned. “Y’all are haters.”

She leaned heavier into Peter then, her elbow digging into his side. He adjusted easily, his arm strong and steady beneath her shoulders. You noticed. Noticed how he didn’t complain, didn’t flinch. How he carried the weight like it was nothing. Like it was just what he did for people.

“Gwen’s not always like this,” you said, glancing across the girl’s slumped form at him. “Well. She is. But there’s usually less eyeliner involved.”

He laughed, a quiet, easy sound that felt like it belonged in the air beside you. “She seems fun.”

“She is,” you said. “Chaotic. Loud. Rides the emotional rollercoaster without a seatbelt.”

Peter nodded. “Sounds like someone good to have in your corner.”

“Mhm. Especially when she’s not trying to steal fries from strangers or give me life advice in a Seven-Eleven bathroom.”

Gwen let out a faint snore, then jerked awake a second later. “I’m not drunk.”

“Right,” you said.

“Totally fine,” Peter agreed, voice deadpan, making you giggle, eyes crinkling. God, the things he would do to see and hear you laugh over, and over again.

“I am,” Gwen insisted. “I’m fine. You guys are drunk. You’re drunk on me!”

You both broke into quiet laughter, careful not to jostle her too hard. The whole thing was ridiculous and weirdly peaceful. Another few blocks passed till you pointed out your dorm from a few more minutes away. Gwen was starting to drag more than walk now, most of her weight shifting to Peter, and he didn’t even blink. His arm stayed firm around her ribs, steady and unshakable.

“You’re strong,” you said simply.

Peter looked over, eyes briefly wide like he wasn’t used to compliments he couldn’t deflect with a joke. “Oh. Um. Thanks. You’re…” He fumbled for something to say. “You’re really good at keeping people upright.”

You grinned. “Years of practice. Half my friends have no internal compass and the other half drink like they’re immortal. Like this one, for instance.”

Peter smiled, heart drumming somewhere ridiculous in his throat.

When you reached the dorm entrance, Gwen slumped dramatically against the doorframe, blinking like a Disney princess waking from a curse. “Where’s my bed?” she asked no one.

“I’ll get the door,” you said, digging for your keycard.

Peter steadied Gwen alone while you pulled the door open. You reached to take her back from him, but he didn’t let go right away—not because he didn’t want to, but because he hadn’t realized he’d have to.

And then you looked up at him, hand still on Gwen, eyes catching his like you’d known him longer than an hour. “Thanks for walking us. Seriously.”

He shrugged, suddenly shy again. “It was no big deal.”

“You didn’t have to,” you said softly. “But I’m glad you did.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just smiled—hopelessly, helplessly.

“See you around, Peter,” you said, stepping backward toward the door. Gwen muttered something about mozzarella sticks behind you.

He nodded. “Yeah. See you.”

And then you were gone. The door clicked shut behind you, and Peter stood there on the sidewalk, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, grin tugging stupidly at his mouth. His head was clear. His arms still buzzed where they’d touched you. And for the first time in months, maybe longer, Peter Parker felt good. Not because he’d done anything impressive or he’d saved anyone or proven anything, but because you’d talked to him like he was someone worth knowing.

And that, he realized, might be the most intoxicating feeling of all.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker angst #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x you #spiderman no way home #no way home #spiderman #marvel #mcu

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illumoonated · 22 days ago

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I was at a party yesterday and spoke to a friend's spouse who is wrapping up their teaching master's degree. I asked them about how they get around AI and student plagiarism and what they said blew my mind.

"I know when 'student A' writes something completely outside of their ability that it's AI writing it. 'Student B' who tries hard and makes an effort is easy to find. But at the same time, I want Student A who isn't good at writing to be able to use ChatGPT as a tool."

So I said, "wow, I mean as a writer that's really hard to hear to be honest."

"Well," future teacher said, "but you're a writer. You like to do that. I want to make sure Student A goes out into the world writing professional emails that they can use. If they need to use ChatGPT to do that then they should. It's a tool."

And I think I was too flabbergasted to come up with any real response. Because...isn't TEACHING your student how to WRITE the idea? Isn't it your job to give them the help they need to think for themselves? Isn't the whole point of learning how to do something to benefit your brain and your ability to move through the world?

I truly think this person saw ChatGPT as a tool. And I do concede that there are people with severe anxiety or other language/learning disabilities/communication difficulties who can benefit from the ease of it. But for the majority of students, I think using ChatGPT as a "jumping off point" is like telling an 8 year old "hey, this robot will do all your chores and homework and also give you ice cream and mommy and daddy may find out that the robot did the work but they probably won't look into it too much so why not have the robot do it".

You are helping your students lie better and put in less work thinking. We've all used spark notes or wikipedia or copied from a friend. But that requires effort. It requires teamwork, some level of research, communication, coordination. I'm going to sound old here but cheating used to take effort at the very least.

I haven't been a student during AI so maybe I'm totally off my rocker here, but this keeps students as stupid as possible so they can graduate with as little effort and learning accomplished, just so they can enter the work force with more anxiety, less self-worth, the inability to think for themselves, and hurt the environment all the while.

I pray every day for the demise of non-health/science/public good AI. The "great things" it will do for us is remove jobs, dumb the population, and ruin the environment while these corporations laugh all the way to the bank.

Anyways, FUCK AI and anyone who uses it.

#fuck ai #I hate ai #ai #gen ai #generative ai #chatgpt

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raileurta · 6 months ago

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The tfp kids were some of the first things I created in GL2, and it's been a few months since then and I have gotten much better. So here's my updated version of their designs/story.

Also fyi before I forget this is not what I would actually have them be in the show if I had written it. This just self indulgent takes on the characters. Let me know if you want to see how I would have written the show.

Miko

Age: 17

Pronouns: Uses any.

Likes: Skateboarding, drawing, slash monkey, kemonomimi, horror movies, fighting, her friends, and monster trucks.

Dislikes: School, conformation, bullies, and authority.

Description: Miko is a full blooded Japanese exchange student that came for America’s music, art, and to free themselves from his overly strict parents. She's quite energetic and finds it hard to sit still. So to help rid herself of her extra energy he'll practice kickboxing or parkour around town. While she may not act it she is actually intelligent. Miko is also quite the music and language prodigy, easily being able to learn them. He just hates the rigid school system and doesn't care for homework. Miko doesn't have many friends as most are put off by their strange personality and or scared of her. If you do become their friend though Miko is very loyal and will be your ride or die to the end.

Miko is a force to be reckoned with so watch out Decepticons, they're coming for you!

Raf

Age: 12.5;

Pronouns: He/Him

Likes: Coding, his friends, studying, snakes, robots, math, science, cats, school, chocolate, and nature.

Dislikes: Yelling, pity, scary movies, being alone, hospitals, and dogs.

Description: Raf is a young techno genius that was born with quite a few health problems. He is the second youngest out of his many siblings, five to be exact. Since his parents are always busy with work and Raf’s other siblings, he tends to be forgotten a lot. He doesn't let that get him down though (most of the time) and is quite a cheery kid. He puts his smarts to good use and has skipped four grades already while also taking some college classes. While he likes science and math his real passion is coding along with robotics. He dreams of one day opening his own tech company.

He might be a sweet kid but don't underestimate him. Raf could hack circles around even among some of Cybertronian’s elite.

Jack

Age: 16

Pronouns: He/Him

Likes: Motorcycles, girls, family, social media, and his friends.

Dislikes: Risks, seeing his friends hurt, and bullying.

Description: Jack is quite an average guy all things considered; he's not overly smart or a great fighter but he is quite the strategist and knows how to deal with people. Jack helps bring out the strengths in Miko and Raf and how to make them use it the most effectively. If he is trained properly he could become quite the leader. He lives with only his Mom, Jack’s dad having passed away a long time ago. He does every he can to help support his mom. While yes he feels she can be too overprotective or a bit embarrassing at times he loves his mom and wants to lessen her burden as much as he can. The reason he even got a job in the first place was to help her out with the bills.

Watch out for our very own human prime! He won't hesitate to sick his friends on those deserving.

Explanation undercut

Miko is still my favorite out of the trio and I will continue to show blatant favoritism. I learned much much more into the punk aesthetic because I think it's perfect for her personality. While I did like how colourful her old design was from a character design perspective it wasn't really unified or fit there enough.

Anyways she has some big ol stomping boots now that are definitely steel tipped. (Ouch man) They give them around 4-5 inches and make her the same height as Jack when wearing them. She also has knee pads and a shoulder pad. Well because skating and I wanted her to have armor without it being armor. If that makes sense? Miko also has horns partly since she likes kemonomimi but mostly because he's a “daredevil.” Miko's skateboard is Bulkhead themed, of course no explanation needed there. I tried to do some messy makeup since they give off that vibe.

I'm a sucker for the black people with white hair design. Plus I thought Raf kinda being (fictional) albino would play into Raf being ill. When something is wrong with you you're more likely to have more problems. For him I kept it generally similar to the last design just made more cohesive. He still has that nerdy school boy vibe and stuff. He also has a wrist brace now since someone told me how bad canes are for it so I wanted him to have some extra support to help.

If you look closely, his bag has a bumblebee on it.

Jack's design also didn't change that much; the main thing is his eyes are now blue. I thought it would be a nice nod to how since he's a human prime that his eyes should be autobot blue. Plus it fits the color scheme better. His gloves are leather and arcree themed. Yeah nothing to say much, as he also didn't change a lot. 🤷

Edit: Forgot to include the updated irl me design.

#gl2 #gacha life 2 #tfp #transformers prime #tf #maccadam #tfp miko #tfp jack #tfp raf #miko nakadai #jack darby #rafael esquivel #human trio #human prime

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affectionate-team · 2 years ago

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Sugar overdose

Trey Clover × reader

Synopsis: There's this one student in NRC... he always seems to look out for you, expressing his care and making your forced stay in Twisted Wonderland more bearable. Though there are some things about him that you stay oblivious to...

TW for: mild yandere, drugging/food poisoning (?) (basically unconscious potion consumption), stalking (if you can call it that), overall creepy-ish behavior. If you're uncomfortable with any of aforementioned topics, do not proceed, please. :з

(the whole thing might seem rushed or unfinished, forgive me if so, I'm still gaining experience in writing. ^^")

He's always been there.

Since when you first got dropped into this world, Clover has always been somewhere in sight. It was hard to stop your gaze at just one thing when there were so many wonders you'd never seen before, so you never paid him much mind, not until the Heartslabyul incident, at least. Before you could only catch a glimpse of him in the cafeteria or exchange short greetings in the halls, but the first overblot gave him a push to change the matters. First he started calling out to you when seeing you in crowd, then he worked up some courage to ask for greeting hugs (or at least handshakes when you weren't in the mood), and at some point decided to strike up a conversation: one, two, five, to the point where you'll find him approaching you almost every day, helping out with chores, carrying groceries, sharing notes and helping with homework, staying over for night, and-

When did he manage to get so close?

Windows in NRC's alchemy lab expose one's eyes to unique views; usually it's already way past noon when classes end, enough so the sun starts setting by that time, painting the vast free skies in deep shades of pink and yellow. Wisps of colorful cotton clouds frame the canvas, giving finishing touches to the majestic evening painting. And the centre piece of the gallery of nature - the biggest wonder, an anomaly of this world, not unlike a shy flower on a fragile stem blooming among concrete plates or snowdrifts, - the prefect. Rays of dying light wrap around their figure perfectly. They come here every day, doing small chores for professors with the company of the infamous duo of freshmen-troublemakers. Still, even the boys' robust nature and somewhat graceless behavior cannot spoil the picturesque scene.

He lays his books out on a table closest to windows, having already claimed the space for himself ever since he joined the Science club. At first it was all about convenience: pretty views on the school gardens give him inspiration for new recipes, wide tables allow to keep his space as neat as possible and prevent any hazards (no more spilled flasks or lost papers - much easier to work now), fresh air when the room gets suffocating or his cooking experiments go wrong.

Now it opens another, a little less innocent in nature, opportunity for the young man - to keep a close eye on the cute magicless student. Actually, when you think about it, the fact is not perverse. Is it really wrong of him, a true older brother at heart, to protect those who are weaker than him in many senses of the word? If anything, he's only doing them a favor - prefect always expressed their appreciation of his help whenever they had gotten in a difficult situation with teachers or delinquents, so surely they would've found the notion to be sweet.

Sweet is the first word that comes to mind when you talk to Trey. It's not even only about his personality (the way the man treats his dormmates alone is enough of a proof; putting others' health and wants before his own, prioritizing their happiness, going out of his way to keep things peaceful). Smell of sugar and vanilla follows him everywhere: in classes, in hallways, in his room. You can smell sugar and caramel on his uniform every time Trey comes up to you for a 'good morning' hug. It's hard to resist the temptation to press closer, if only to have more - to get drunk on the overwhelming aroma and warmth.

He'd be lying if he said the prefect's preference for good perfume went over his head. Trey heard them compliment Schoenheit and Hunt for their cologne and seen how they pull away in mock disgust when Ace gets touchy after a particularly long basketball practice. Perceptive to smell. That's where his main hobby comes in handy: when one spends a great part of their day in the kitchen, they're bound to carry out some of its homey atmosphere with hints of cinnamon.

"Good morning! Don't forget to pack your gym uniform, your class has Flying lesson today."

Isn't that nice of him to leave you little notes and reminders? His attentiveness never fails to make you swoon.

"Have you eaten yet? Remember to heat up some lunch for yourself."

"I hope you're not staying up late again? Go to bed before I come over and make sure you do personally. >:("

"Your outfit today was really cute... I mean, you sure are good at styling clothes! Just wanted to make a compliment, don't take it wrong. :)"

Though sometimes his comments sound too... personal. Have you ever actually told him of your schedule? How does he know about your preference? Even Ace and Deuce, who you spend most of your time with, don't know and don't seem to remember that much.

Prefect favors others way more than they should. Does the spoiled lion prince deserve being pampered by them? Do the troublesome freshmen not annoy them? How can they parade around, gathering crowds around themselves, stealing hearts of each and every student they encounter, and still treat him with such disregard? "Trey's such a mom friend" this and "I wish I had an older brother like him!" that.

I don't feel the same for you.

Why wouldn't you see how I slowly burn for you?

Even now, the dessert he left at your kitchen counter in Ramshackle is lacking flaws. Even layers of frosting, small edible decorations made out of chocolate - it's an intricate work, a miniature piece of art beloved by its creator, with so much time spent over it. And all for you?

Under the plate hosting the sweet treat is a piece of paper. You carefully slip the note from under the plate and read it, eyes crinkling at the corners at the thought of somebody putting so much effort to make you happy.

"I noticed you've been gloomy all day; please, enjoy this little treat. It's a new recipe of mine, so I hope you'll enjoy this."

There was no need to sign the note - identity of the sender was as clear as day. With a fond light and eyes and a prep in step, you move to set a kettle on the stove to prepare some tea - a chamomile blend gifted to you by Jade (he did sound proud of his blends). Not able to resist temptation, you find a fork and lift a portion of the dessert to your lips, taking in its enchanting smell. Cream melts on your tongue, texture contrasting the bright filling and bringing out a new kind of flavor. Tea long abandoned, you take another bite to savor it, sighing in content.

He truly was a master of his art, especially if his work managed to bring your guard down with little to no effort. It was all too late when you noticed how the cold filling tickled your throat, or how your fingers grew colder with each second passed. Staying steady on two feet has never been so hard before, as white noise overwhelmed your senses, disorienting, separating from reality. Seconds flash by in static pictures, and by the time he approached you from behind, there was nothing to do to hold onto consciousness.

There they are now, safe in his arms, not turning or running away anymore. Cradled close to a warm chest, burning with deepest of earthy desires, full of selfish wanting and a new blossom of hope, their heart would soon answer his calling. For a magicless human is no match to the power of true love.

He will always hold you near.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #gender neutral reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #yandere twst #yandere #i hope the tagging is okay? still unsure how to do this #please let me know if i should add something!#really felt like writing something yandere-ish...

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httpino · 1 year ago

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hiii everyone! this is my opinion on what college majors each of the konoha 11 + sasuke n the sand siblings have :D + my general college headcanons about them. enjoy!!

p.s. this is a non massacre au so everyone is alive and well

Naruto characters in College

Naruto Uzumaki: Political Science

- he’s obvi into the whole politics thing so it seemed obvious to him to go into polisci

- unfortunate frat brother

- he’s not like the annoying weird ones but he does indulge in a bit of excessive drinking

- even when he’s hokage (think of it as like the president of everything i don’t fucking know) he’ll still do the stupid ass frat greeting if he sees a fellow brother

- barely passing but once he starts studying seriously with sakura, he’s on his grind fr

- he was never stupid, he just has adhd and no idea how to ask for help

- graduates at a decent place n continues on the higher education track (to everyone’s surprise)

Sasuke Uchiha: Business with a concentration in Finance

- he plans on taking over the family business from his older brother since he’s sick and needs to focus on his health

- does not engage in frat business no matter how much naruto begs

- he’s above it all

- he’s less fucked in the head (because his whole family was not senselessly murdered!) so he does like partying n is less antisocial

- non massacre au sasuke is a WHORE idgaf

- will entertain whoever he needs to to get laid

- this is before he starts dating sakura and then he’s like a nun, he does not look in people’s direction at all

- model student, graduates with a ridiculously high gpa

Sakura Haruno: Biology + Chemistry Double Major (pre-med)

- did anyone say overachiever

- she was told she just needed to pick a science if she wanted to do the pre-med track but she said fuck it and chose two

- bordering deranged, the constant homework is getting to her

- very efficient at studying so she’s able to have some semblance of a school-life balance but barely

- she’s spent more nights in the library crying over her homework than she cares to admit

- finds it all easier when she’s with her friends so she, naruto, ino, sasuke, shikamaru, neji, and hinata have a little study circle every night

- model student, legit is the student that her professors tell their students about years after she graduates

- goes on to med school (we love you dr.haruno)

Sai: Art

- obviously

- he’s having a good time here

- once he gets to the point where he’s having to do other art (sculpting for example) he’s losing it a bit

- he’s just a little guy who wants to draw pretty little pictures :(

- the mf who says “ugh i have a drawing due at 11:59” and then promptly gets jumped for having the audacity to complain around sakura

- doesn’t really party, if he does get dragged out, he spends the whole time drawing the scene in front of him

- he has so many drawings of drunk naruto doing stupid shit, he’s compiled it in a little booklet n adds to it

- by the end of college, he has a thick ass book of these drawings (naruto, ino, sakura, and lee being most of the drawings)

- graduates with flying colors (see what i did there) to become ino’s house husband who supports her through med school

Shikamaru Nara: International Relations

- bro did not want to go to college

- literally dragged himself through high school, why would he want to do it all over again but it’s harder???

- anyway he settles on international relations n breezes through it

- his friends wanna strangle him every time he complains about his schoolwork

- sakura’s eye is twitching, tenten is planning his untimely demise, ino is calling him a lazy idiot

- in his defense, he doesn’t really know what’s going on at any given moment

- he does his work on time but that’s only after he has to teach himself everything cause he skips class religiously

- high off his ass the entire four years

- is known around campus, not for his smarts, but because he’s been found sleeping in the oddest places

- there’s an instagram page for sightings of his naps in odd places (that was definitely not started by ino)

- graduates with decent grades and gets a job in the hokage’s office with the power of nepotism and his brain

Choji Akimichi: Culinary Arts

- he’s having a grand time really

- he’s a phenomenal cook and he already knows all the cooking techniques since his dad owns the highest rated restaurant in the country

- literally has never complained about anything a day in his life

- his to go meals are the only thing keeping his friends alive, they all have the diet of a college student which is water, tears, and a side of ramen

- always has excess food left from class so he goes around campus delivering it to the different food banks

- random people know about choji akimichi’s legendary hangover meal

- graduates with flying colors and goes on to take over his father’s restaurant and open one of his own!

Ino Yamanaka: Psychology (pre-med)

- annoying psych major who psychoanalyzes her friends

- drunk off her ass and she’s asking kiba if his attachment to his dogs comes from trying to make up for his terrible relationship with his mother

- is literally always out, no one has no idea how considering all the other psych students are fighting for their lives

- when she meets sai, she’s excited as fuck, she loves a fine ass man with a brain she can pick apart

- a little crazy

- graduates top of her major but it’s a mystery how she did such a thing

Kiba Inuzuka: Vet science

- picked this because his dog got sick once n he was like bro what the fuck i need to never let this happen again

- actually a really good student contrary to popular belief! (hinata asked him to study with her one time n then it became a routine)

- who said FRAT BOY KIBA!!! (it’s me, i said frat boy kiba)

- chronic day drinker (bro needs to attend a.a meetings)

- gets an internship in the local vet office and he has deep beef with all the cats there

- he thinks they’re evil but the cats just smell dog on him n they do not fuck with it

- graduates at a decent place n goes to vet school (idk how that works, just pretend i do)

Shino Aburame: Entomology

- DUH!!

- bro might as well be a professor, he’s so good with the whole thing

- which is why he becomes a TA by the end of his first year (unheard of btw)

- out of everyone, he’s having the easiest time

- literally goes to class, does his little science classes, studies his little bugs, then comes home to his apartment n thinks about bugs

- he’s attended every seminar about environment so he can pipe up n say that preserving the bugs in each ecosystem could help

- graduates n goes on to get an offer to teach entomology at konoha university

Hinata Hyuga: Communication

- she has no idea what she wants to do

- this was mainly a placeholder till she figured something out

- the required public speaking course nearly took something out of her

- but after all her friends gathered to listen to her speech n cheer her on, she felt so much confidence that she got an amazing grade

- this led to her sticking with comm!

- she picks a focus on media so she ends up working at the tv station (behind the scenes, she’s not a in front of the camera type of girl)

- does great n has study circles with her friends :D

- doesn’t party, doesn’t drink, doesn’t do much of anything but she’ll go out to make sure kiba doesn’t get into a bar fight or something

Neji Hyuga: Physics

- not so sure about this one but idkkk something in my heart says he’s a physics major

- he’s not sure what he wants to do with it but it makes him sound smart when his dad brags to the other parents

- extremely paranoid about missing assignments so he does everything the moment he gets it

- has never been relaxed ever

- time management king

- he got pulled into a study circle and though he’ll NEVER admit it, it’s helped him a lot

- graduates in three years instead of four and goes on to grad school (he’s trying to avoid finding a job)

Rock Lee: Sports science

- DUH!!

- he wants to help injured athletes so why not study how a healthy body is supposed to work while exercising?

- he gets an internship with guy, who’s the athletic trainer of konoha university n he’s everyone’s favorite

- had learned not to complain about his workload around tenten (she broke down and started bawling over her homework and he freaked out)

- graduates with a good gpa and then gets a job with the athletic trainers office

Tenten: Business with a concentration in Entrepreneurship + Engineering Double Major

- this determined ass mf

- she’s been dreaming of creating a weapon that will allow for easy usage while also being tailored to the needs of the user

- so she decides on the business major part to create a business out of it and engineering so she can figure out how to do it herself

- she’s fighting for her life the entire four years of college

- turns down so many parties and invites because her homework is literally a stack the size of her

Kankuro: Political Science + Art History Double Major

- he wanted badly to do art history alone

- but he decides that maybe he does want to be employed in the future

- so he picks up political science as a side thing

- he cheats off gaara so he doesn’t have to focus too much on the polisci portion of his degree

- exchange student (obvi) n he’s indulging in konoha culture

- which is just getting black out drunk on a wednesday evening!

- finishes out college as a decent student, not exceptional but also he’s not terrible

Gaara: Political Science

- literally decides he’s gonna become the kazekage and picks up polisci immediately

- like his siblings he’s an exchange student

- literally doesn’t do any “stereotypical” college things

- doesn’t drink a drop of alcohol, doesn’t dabble in drugs, his most wild weekend is him indulging in TWO red bulls instead of one

- which is why no one is surprised when he graduates top of his class n immediately gets a job in the kazekage’s office where he works his way up

Temari: Meteorology

- just walk with me here

- exchange student from suna

- always found interest in weather patterns considering she lived in a place with such predictable patterns

- like day after day it was all sun, no rain until one random day, there was an absolute downpour before everything went back to normal

- she absolutely went WILDDDD she needed to know what had happened to cause such a thing

- she has no interest in smiling in front of the camera n giving the forecast, she wants to just study what the fuck goes on with the weather

- has a decent workload but she really doesn’t mind it, it gives her an excuse to avoid ino’s constant invites to go out

- one time, she went out n got hammered n slept with shikamaru n then she literally never did that again

- it worked cause she started dating him soon after but still… you can never be too safe

- graduates with a perfect gpa n goes on to become the best meteorologist in the world

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oval3000 · 2 years ago

Text

Oneshot!

Yandere Simon Riley x reader (Soap's younger sister)

(Pretend that you guys are adopted or something idk. Also the Canon story with Makarov will be different - he's dead)

Warning: Toxic behavior, light (Forced) Smut, Assault, Curse, very toxic. Yandere, Violence. Slight yandere platonic Soap.

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

When Johnny's parents told him that he's going to have a baby sister at the age of 13, he was shocked and didn't expect it. At first, he wasn't really thrilled since the age gap was really big. His father will tell him that he'll have to protect you and love you like an older brother should do.

When they brought you home, he immediately realized the things his father had said. The feeling of not caring for you changed. He loves you. He would drop you off and pick you from school whenever he had the chance. He would take care off you when his parents go out on their date.

He would help you with your homework, even if he didn't understand it well. He would show up to all of your school events. He would give you pep talks whenever you needed it.

He got full custody of you, when his parents passed away.

When he joined the military, you were worried about him, but he assured you that everything was going to be okay. You would send him letters and he would reply, which caught Simon's attention.

He was able to get a safe house, after his encounter with Makarov to keep you safe. The only one that knows about it is Price, Gaz, and...Simon.

When they were stranded and needed to get shelter, Soap brought them to you. You met them...you met Simon. Simon couldn't help but to stare at you. You could feel his eyes on you and it didn't feel good. It felt like you were about to get eaten alive.

You never really had good luck with boys since Johnny would scare them away. So the feeling of a men staring you, made you feel a little uncomfortable.

Afterwards, Johnny told you that everything was going to be fine since they took down Makarov, you were happy that Johnny was no longer in danger.

He was happy that he can come home to you. He wouldn't know what to do if something bad happened to you.

So you can imagine his rage when he comes home and you're gone.

He didn't waste anytime to call Price and everyone, telling them that you are gone. They went to check the house and saw broken vases and picture frames on the floor. It wasn't rocket science to know that you have been kidnapped.

Johnny expressed his anger and concern to Simon, who he reassured Johnny that everything is going to be okay. They all tried to track you down. Visiting possible locations where you could be only to storm inside empty, abandoned, places.

Johnny couldn't sleep or think of anything else except to get you back. Each night when he tried to get some rest, all he can think is the moment his father told him to take care of you and failed.

The team told him to take it easy or else he would hit the breaking point of his own health. Price ordered him to take time off while they worked on finding you.

Simon would come and visit Johnny to check how he's doing. "What if she's gone forever, Simon? What would I do with myself if I never get to see her again?"

Simon looked at him with pity, "don't worry, Johnny. We'll find her."

After checking on Johnny and helping the team on finding you, he would go home to his safehouse. He would place his bag on the couch and take off his mask and jacket.

He would walk to kitchen and open the door, turning on the lights. He would walk down on the creaky, woodfloor, staircase. He would stand there, Infront of the twin bed centered on the back wall of the basement.

He would stare at you.

Chained up that is hooked to the bed headboard. You sat up seeing him there. The man that took you from your home and locked you down in his basement. "Please don't hurt me."

"Love, I'll do whatever the fuck I want with you." He took off his shirt, showing his toned muscles. He climbed on the bed, having you to back away as much as the bed headboard allows you to. "Be a good girl and spread those beautiful legs of yours."

He gripped on your waist, thrusting his hip into you. You felt his cock drilling you so hard and deep you held on to the chain links that is connected to the metal cuffs on your wrist.

You hated it. He loved it. He loved the way you squirm under his tough body structure." Ah..Yes! Be a good girl for me, love!" His grunts and moans will take over your ears aswell as the sound the bed creaking and the sound of wet skin slapping eachother.

He would flip you over, pushing his your head down into the mattress and lift your ass in the air, thrusting even harder. "You're fucking mine." He pulled your hair back, forcing you to arch your back. "All mine."

He would cum deep into your womb. He would get up and leave you there, naked. You would bury your head into the bedsheets and sob quietly. He hated to hear you cry. He really hated it. "Shut up! I'm doing this because you don't listen to me!" He clasp your cheeks with his hand. "You're gonna learn, yeah," he pulled down his pants and shoved his cock in your mouth.

You were forced to swallow his cum.

You have no idea how long you've been in his basement. You don't know if Johnny is out there looking for you. When you tell Simon about it, he would take off his belt and fuck you till you pass out.

At first, you were his sex toy. He'll come home to you and drill you in till you could see the stars and leave you naked alone in the dark.

However, lately, he would lay in bed with you. He would caress your body as you lays on his bare chest.

He would unhook the metal cuffs from your wrist and carry you, bridal style, upstairs to bathe you. He would come home with flowers and teddy bears for you. On your birthday, he would bring a piece of cake with a lit candle on it.

You couldn't tell if you have lost your mind or just accepted your fate, but you wanted him. You want Simon. You want his attention, his love, his affection to you.

When he comes home to fuck you, you felt pleasure than pain. "Mhm...yes! Ah!ah! Harder Sir!"

"Love it when you call me that, love." He huffed, burying his head on the side of your neck, moving his hips back and forth. The sound of the bed creaking so uncontrollable. "You're so...ah!...s-so fucking beautiful."

Although, his demeanor never changed. "How many times do I have to tell you!? You're not leaving this room!"

"I want out of these chains, Simon!" You plead to him, holding out your chained wrist.

He lowered his head to you, "No! And if I were you, I would drop it."

That's how it was for who knows how long you've been tied up in his basement.

You weren't the only one loosing their minds. Johnny, running around trying to found you.

However, his focus came to Simon. How? Because he visited you.

Johnny went to visit Simon, to talk to him, about you. He thought he had some lead on to where you are. When Simon was looking as to where he thought you might be, Johnny wanted to get a drink.

Johnny is no stranger to Simon. He knows where Simon keeps the drinks. So when Johnny touched the basement door, it snapped Simon.

Johnny brushed it off. But not having you in his arms, he would honestly put the blame on a mail man that he met once. So it wasn't out of character for him to honestly question his own teammates. Afterall, they all knew where you were. They knew where the safehouse was. So how bizzare would it be to accuse his friend of possibly taking you.

He would spend weeks, just studying on his mates and all the possible scenarios lead up to Simon. It wasn't really that out of place, Simon became a bit sloppy. His energy of founding in the beginning, shifted. When Johnny would want to go to his house and go to the basement to get some drinks, Simon wouldn't allow him.

So when Simon opened his door and saw Johnny there, he felt the nerves rising. "Hey, Lt. Sorry to just drop by like this. I just wanted to take break and being in the house without her makes it hell."

"No problem, Johnny." He moved outside to let him in. He felt his throat to dry up a bit. Johnny has been visiting him a lot these past few weeks and it was unusual.

They both began to talk and drink. Simon excused himself to use the restroom. Johnny didn't waste time to go to that basement. He opened the door and slowly walked down to not create loud creaking. He reached the bottom floor and saw the bed and you on top.

You were laying down on your side. When you heard the sounds of steps, you thought it was, "Simon?" You peaked up and saw your brother standing there.

It's been so long that you've seen him, so him being there made you cry out. "Johnny!?"

He stood there frozen. He wished there was nothing here. He wished he wrong. He wished that it wasn't Simon. He wished that it wasn't someone he had trusted. "(Y/n)?"

You are so happy to see you. So happy that you couldn't see Simon creeping up on Johnny. "Simon! Please don't!" Simon knocked Johnny out cold.

You plead and plead Simon to let Johnny go. He tied him up. When Johnny woke up, he felt his arms on his back. He went on his knees and saw Simon standing near you. "You..you fucking bastard. I trusted you. You're supposed to be my friend."

"I only did what was the best for us." Simon went to Johnny. Crouched down infront of him. "You left me with no choice. You're overprotective of her, I knew this was the only option."

"The only option! You bastard! She's my sister and you took her away from me. I would never have someone like you to end up with her." His anger with his harsh down tone words made Simon take a deep breath.

"I know. So you kinda left me with no other choice." He pulled out a gun and pointed it to his head.

"NO! PLEASE! Please! Don't do this, Simon!" You cried for him to stop. "Please! I'll do anything you want! Just please don't kill him! Please.

"Sweetheart, you don't make the choice here." He held the gun tight, almost hesitant to pull the trigger.

"I love you, Simon! I love you. I'll be with you! Please don't kill him! We'll both forget about this, right Johnny!?" Johnny looked at you from the side and gave a small nod. "Let him live and I'll be with you. I'll do whatever you want me to do. I'll listen to you,I swear!"

"If I lower my gun, will you attack me?" Simon said to Johnny. You gave Johnny head shooks to tell him not to do something stupid. Johnny wanted to kill him, he does. But he knows the outcome if this. If he does die, then you'll be with Simon. If he does attack Simon, then he'll have to kill his friend.

How he wished he was wrong about this.

"I won't attack you. If you let me go, I won't tell anyone about this. As long as I get to see her still, I promise I won't interfere with anything else. Just let her go off those chains." His voice toned down a bit in a more calming manner.

Simon lowered his gun and turned his head towards you. "You love me?"

Your eyes widen with fear as to what Simon is going to do. "Yes. Yes, I love you!"

He ran to you, cupping your face with his hands, "You love me, sweetheart? I love you too. We'll get married and gave kids together yeah."

"Yes. But don't hurt Johnny. Ou-our kids will want their uncle." You smiled at him trying to hide your fear.

"I won't. I love you so much."

The words stick through. Johnny told Price that you were found and that some punks kidnapped for you 'their fun' it took a couple of months for people to find out about you and Simon.

The wedding was beautiful to him. The honeymoon was magical to him. And the announcement of your pregnancy was amazing to him

Johnny watched you, his little sister. Being trapped in a marriage with Simon.

As for you, you couldn't quite think of anything. It was all Simon. He knows what's best for you.

So you should trust him and love him.

Right?

#yandere simon riley #ghost x reader #fanfic #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon ghost x reader

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