#I CAN'T DO ENGINEERING IN COLLEGE THAT'S EVERYTHING I'VE NEVER WANTED

[dykrophone]

literally @ physics

[bratphilia]

his bunny (w. afton x reader)

request: "hii!! i have been obsessed with your lillard!afton fics lately and i just have to ask you to write another. i was wondering if you could do something like afab! reader is a student in college and william is her engineering professor? she is purposefully failing his class just to get his attention and some “extra credit”. but little does she know william has been obsessed with her ever since she stepped foot in his class. if it helps, teachers pet by melanie martinez could have a huge influence on this. thank you so so much!! ♡♡"

note: thank you so much, i'm glad you've been enjoying the content i've been putting out! fun fact i was obsessed with this song when k-12 first came out. also professor!william has been on my mind recently so i'm glad you requested this!! the e-mail section is a little awkward because i absolutely hate using "y/n"

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m receiving), facial, dirty talk, slut-shaming, mean dom!william, desk sex

engineering. your worst class. not because you were bad at it or anything. it was all your professor.

and no, not because he's a bad teacher either. he's just so fucking hot it makes your brain go fuzzy every time he speaks. he lectures with his large hands enthusiastically. he always wears some form of purple on him, whether it's a tie or his slacks. everything about him is so intoxicating.

but he's never noticed you.

not when you try to catch his eye before and after class. not when you greet him with a "good morning, sir." and every time you've attended his office hours, a fucking ta helps you every single time. it's making you go crazy, not getting what you want.

you even started to wear increasingly skimpier outfits. you always stick to a theme of a sexy school girl, even going as far enough to buy more short skirts and thigh high socks or leg warmers. the buttons of the blouses you wear paired with them are always unbuttoned just to show a peak of cleavage. you ignore the hungry and curious eyes of your other peers as you walk by them; it's not their attention you want. still, you feel a little silly putting in all this effort just for him to barely grumble a reply back to you at your futile efforts to talk to him.

so you put a plan in action. you either purposefully turn in every piece of homework late and answer most, if not all, the questions of your quizzes and mid-term until you're sure you're at the very bottom of the class grades-wise.

in fact, you wake up the day after your mid-term to an e-mail from professor raglan. the subject was titled "Meeting Request" with your name addressed at the beginning.

"I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the current state of your progress in my class. After your most recent assessment and previous assignments, I'm concerned about your future in my class if you continue the pattern I am seeing reflected in your work. Let me know if tonight at 5:00pm works for you.

Thank you,

Professor Raglan"

any regular person's heart would have sunk to the pit of their stomach if they received that e-mail. however, you are not a normal person. your heart fucking soars. you immediately jump to respond in confirmation.

professor raglan knows better than to get caught up with students, but he just can't help it! you're too beautiful to ignore.

the craziest part is he knows what game you're playing. the outfits that reflect nothing but a stereotypical, sexy school girl you would see in a porn video. and especially the way your grades have dropped recently, when you started off being one of the brightest students in his class.

over time, he noticed your lack of participation in class. at first, he chalked it up to something more serious, like personal issues. and then he noticed those lingering stares, the way you chew your pen, twirl your hair, and rub your thighs together. he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's been ignoring you on purpose. he wants you to chase after him, to let him know what you really want, but you just won't. he partially doesn't blame you either, it would be highly inappropriate for a student to engage that way towards their professor. so he ignores you during class. he barely acknowledges the way you've tried to grab his attention.

steve more than reciprocates your feelings. in fact, he's probably more enamored with you than you can possible imagine. he has all your homework, your essays, even your mid-term saved digitally in a folder, with your name as the title, on his computer. he reads looks over them when he's taking a break from grading as a way to detox, which sometimes ends up in him masturbating thinking about you. he loves to read the failed work from his dumb little bunny.

he even followed you home once. he kept close distance away from you, hiding in the shadows of every corner you turned. it's the william in him that wants that does the stalking, he convinces himself. the hyde to his jekyll; his true self coming to show in the role he plays of an average college professor, a totally normal guy with a few quirks.

your room, conveniently let him catch a peep of you touching yourself, and you swore you saw you mouth the word 'professor' when you brought yourself to orgasm.

and so he decides to play your little game. after all, you created the perfect opportunity for him, and he's going to take the bait.

steve sits at his desk, grading the rest of the mid-term papers, while he awaits your arrival. your own paper is sitting separate from the other stack, easily accessible so the two of you can get straight to "talking" about it as soon as possible.

he hears a tell-tale knock at his door, and he tries not to answer with a smile in his voice as he calls out, "come in."

you open the door gingerly, and it takes everything in him not to eye you up and down, but at first glance he knows you're in your usual get-up. it's a pretty little number; white, short-sleeved blouse, black pleated skirt that stops around mid-thigh, and white socks that reach just above your knees. you smile at him, hands clasped behind your back, puffing forward your chest slightly.

"good evening, professor raglan," you say in an oh-so innocent tone, "you wanted to speak with me?"

god, the way you call him professor goes straight to his cock. "yes. sit down," he tells you, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.

you sit down and your professor clasps his hands, leaning back in his chair. "i hope my e-mail didn't worry you. this will be quick."

he watches your face fall at his last few words and he has to bite back his amusement. "you see," he starts, taking your paper and pretending to look at your paper, "you didn't answer a single thing correctly. everything was wrong. it's funny, because i've heard nothing but good reports from the ta's that have helped you during office hours."

you lean closer as he continues. a plethora of excuses come to mind, none of which seem adequate for the situation he's putting it. "so i'm just wondering, how dumb do you think i am?"

your mouth slightly falls open. that was not the reaction you intended to invoke from him. "i—i can explain, i just need more—"

he rolls his eyes. "don't give me that. i'm not an idiot like you clearly are."

if anyone else had called you an idiot, you would have been offended, but from him? it goes straight to your pussy.

you purse your lips and rub your thighs together, waiting for him to continue to berate you. "is it extra credit you want?"

"yes, professor," you answer.

"then get on your knees, slut."

he rolls his chair back to make room for you and watches as you make your way in front of him. you get on your knees as he instructed, waiting expectantly.

"do i have to do everything for you?" he sighs in faux disappointment. he loves your shocked reaction that this is even really happening to you. "you wanted this so take my cock out."

"no, professor," you mumble, reaching for the buttons of his slacks. there's an obvious bulge tenting in his pants that almost makes you salivate.

you pull out his cock from his boxers and he shivers at how cold your hands are. you must be freezing wearing that outfit, he realizes. and, fuck, are your hands so much smaller that his. you begin by pumping him and then reach to kitten lick his tip.

you start to suck on the tip and he sucks air between his teeth sharply. it feels like heaven but he can't take your teasing anymore. he grasps your hair, making a make shift ponytail, and guides your mouth to slowly lower down on his cock. you moan around him causing a pleasurable vibration. he continues to use your hair as a way to control your mouth moving in a slow, up and down motion.

"ah — shit — stay still for me, yeah, baby?" he asks breathlessly. you do as he says, keeping your neck still as he begins to thrust into your mouth.

he bucks into you, grunting about what a "tight mouth you have" and how "you're such a dirty whore for your professor." you moan around his cock at his words, only encouraging his movements. the gurgling and gawk noises coming from your throat make him impossibly harder. the grasp on your hair becomes tighter and his thrusts more erratic. he's close.

before steve comes, he moves your mouth off and begins pumping himself. you watch him eagerly as he never breaks eye contact from you. when he does, it's when he shuts his eyes and groans, spurts of his come painting your face, your neck, and top.

you look so beautiful like this, he thinks, but it comes out as, "you look like such a messy whore."

you blush and lick the ejaculate around your mouth. steve grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. you feel a little unstable but he's pushing you face forward against his desk. he lifts your skirt, which he doesn't bother taking off, only to reveal your thong. of course.

"were you expecting this?" he asks with a chuckle. he pulls your thong and lets it snap against your ass, making you yelp.

"no, but i came prepared," you say boldly.

he tsks. "such a slut."

steve prods his cock at your entrance, making you wiggle your hips when he slides it up and down your slit. you wish he would just stick it in already, but he's bent on teasing you until you can't take it anymore. he wants you to beg for him.

he moves your hair to the side to whisper in your ear. "tell me what you want, bunny."

you whimper at the close proximity. you can feel his beard brushing against your cheek. "need your cock, sir. been wanting it for awhile."

"oh, i know," he says, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "just wanted to hear you say it."

with that he presses inside of you, filling you up inch by inch, agonizingly slow. you whine desperately, wanting more. your fingers dig into the desk. he slips out for a moment and slams back in, filling you to the hilt. from that point forward, he starts thrusting at gradually faster pace.

the room is obscenely filled with the sounds of both of your pants and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. he punctuates every thrust with a degrading phrase. it gets you even hotter.

before you know it you're close. clawing behind you, desperate to grab something, he takes both of your hands and holds them against the desk, giving a flurry of hard, fast thrusts. moans and whines tumble from your lips as you feel your body completely captured by an orgasm that makes you weak in the knees.

steve pulls out and comes on your back with a groan himself, incoherently slurring words of "whore" "slut" and "dumb bunny." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, attitude completely doing a 360.

"you did so well for me, sweetheart."

[bellaturner]

The Unexpected

Unusual fluff (?)

Summary: you went to an Arctic Monkeys concert as a distraction to your recent breakup, but ended up having an unexpected connection with Alex.

TW: breakups

3,6k words

Masterlist

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I had just broken up with the man I thought was the love of my life. Nothing made sense anymore: the sky was permanently gray, the grass was dead beneath my feet, and the chirping of birds had become a melancholic tune. Life had lost its vibrancy, leaving behind a hollow emptiness.

We had been together for six years. To my twenty-four-year-old self, it felt like an eternity. But then, it all came crashing down. The signs were there, lingering in the shadows. Silently warning us of the inescapable end, but neither of us wanted to face the turmoil of ending a relationship that had lasted for so long.

However, as days turned into nights, we found ourselves tangled in neverending arguments. Even when we were together, I felt alone. The solitude became impossible to deal with, and we couldn't bear the weight of our shared life any longer. Honestly, I still struggle to pinpoint the moment where it all went wrong.

Despite everything, a part of me still cares for him. Perhaps that's why I made the difficult decision to sever our ties. I couldn't stand to hurt him any more than I was already doing by simply existing by his side. Each fight pushed him further away, and the thought of his fading presence tormented me.

Eventually, I reached my breaking point. Something had to change. So, with a heavy heart, I decided to officially end what had long been over. In that final moment, as we parted ways, not a single tear fell from his eyes, and that realization cut me deep. I had hoped to see a glimpse of emotion, a reminder of what we once had. But it became clear that I had been mistaken, painfully wrong about his feelings. The truth hit me hard and shattered me into countless pieces.

I felt utterly lost. There was no other way to put it. Waking up each morning became a burden, and I found myself hoping to die in my sleep. The days lacked any meaning. My friends were concerned, and my family shared the bruises of my heartache. After all, he had become part of our lives during those six long years.

But then, on that fateful day, everything changed.

It was my final semester of college, the moment when I was supposed to embrace my dream of becoming a mechanical engineer, fueled by my passion for motorsports. But now, it all seemed foolish and pointless. Every ambition had lost its spark.

In one of my last classes, vehicle electronics and control systems, tears started to melt my notebook pages, forcing me to leave early. I sat on a bench outside the building, next to the parking lot, gaining the courage to return home and confront my feelings again. There weren't any more pictures of us in my room, but the memories of moments shared in it were still there.

That's when Lana, one of my closest friends and an audio engineering major, found me.

"That's it!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with frustration. "I can't take this any longer, YN! I know you're hurting, but you have to move on. You ended things a month ago, but you said it yourself: it's been over for nearly a year!"

"But Lana—" I tried to interject, but she cut me off, refusing to listen.

"I've got backstage passes to a festival I'll be working on next week, and you're coming with me. No excuses. I don't care if I have to drag you by your hair." Her determination startled me, but I knew she was right. "Come on, YN! Pretty please?" she pleaded, putting on that irresistible lost dog face that I could never say no to. She even added the praying hands this time. There was no way I could escape her demands.

"Okay," I relented, sniffing and wiping away the tears from my cheeks. She had a point. I couldn't bury myself in this hole any longer. It was time to start crawling out of it.

"Yay!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down with joy. "That band you love so much is playing on Saturday! The Arctic something, you know?" she said casually.

"I beg your pardon?" I shot up from my seat, disbelief washing over me. "The freaking Arctic Monkeys are going to be playing, and I have a backstage pass?" It felt too incredible to be true. There was no way in hell something like that would happen to me—the unluckiest person in the world.

"Yup, that's the one. So you're going!?" she said happily.

"Of course I am. I had bought tickets to it long ago, but with everything that happened, I guess I kinda forgot about..."

"Hey, hey, stop it!" She cut me off once again. "You're not allowed to say his name or even think about him!" she protested. "I'll be working, though, but maybe that's a good thing. You could try to find some other monkey stan to hook up with!" she said with a mischievous smile.

Lana is unbelievably straightforward. But I think that's why I love her. My silly little girl. My best friend.

I chuckled at her suggestion, shaking my head in both amusement and disbelief. "You never fail to surprise me, Lana. Finding another 'monkey stan' " I scoffed "I just want to enjoy the music and forget about everything else. No more falling in love."

Lana nodded, her expression softening. "I get it, YN. This is your chance to have a great time." It was a statement, and I knew that she would make sure of that.

Her words resonated with me. Maybe this concert was exactly what I needed—an opportunity to let go of the past and rediscover my own happiness. I smiled at my friend, grateful for her support.

"Thank you, Lana. For being here. I appreciate you more than you know."

She grinned back at me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I know, I know! I love you too, YN. Also, that's what friends are for".

With newfound determination and insane anticipation, we made plans for the festival. Lana shared more details about it and the lineup of incredible artists that would grace the stage on that weekend. But the thought of seeing the Arctic Monkeys perform live is what filled me with a mix of nervous excitement and sheer bliss.

Finally, the day of the concert had arrived, and I couldn't contain my excitement. I slipped into my favorite band t-shirt, a quirky image of the members dressed as clowns and the words "who the fuck's Arctic Monkeys?" boldly printed across it. With the backstage pass hanging proudly around my neck, I could feel the anticipation building up inside me.

Lana, being the amazing friend she was, had made sure everything was perfectly arranged for us. As we ventured backstage, the air buzzed with an electric energy that sent shivers down my spine. From my privileged viewpoint, I could see the massive crowd and the whole stage, just waiting for the Monkeys to take their places.

"Hey, listen," Lana said, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and responsibility. "I have to go work now, but you stay here and have the time of your life, okay? Text me if you need anything or decide to explore elsewhere. I love you!" She planted a kiss on my head before disappearing into the backstage area.

Not long after she left, the stage lights illuminated the massive venue, and the band made their entrance from the opposite side I was at. The opening chords of the first song reverberated through the speakers, igniting a surge of excitement and cheers from the crowd. I surrendered myself to the music, letting it embrace me completely, like a warm blanket. The world around me faded away, leaving only the hypnotizing rhythm and the lyrics that resonated with my soul.

With tears streaming down my face, I allowed the familiar melodies to stir deep emotions within me. Each song evoked a different feeling, and I embraced every single one. I couldn't help but dance like there was no tomorrow, losing myself in the moment. The euphoria overwhelmed me, and it felt like I was floating on a cloud of pure bliss.

As the concert progressed, around the third song or so, I caught a glimpse of Alex looking in my general direction. My heart skipped a beat, but I quickly dismissed it as a mere coincidence. He was probably just checking out his surroundings or searching for someone from the production team. I decided to step to the side, not wanting to obstruct his view, and to my surprise his head turned with me as I moved over.

Our eyes briefly locked, and in that split second, I could feel my whole face burning up. Was he actually looking at me? It felt like a fever dream, the kind you never expect to come true. It was probably the effect of one too many unlimited drinks I had enjoyed, courtesy of my backstage access.

Whether it was a genuine look or a result of my tipsy imagination, I couldn't help but revel in the moment. The music enveloped me, drowning out any doubts or rational thoughts. I surrendered myself to the rhythm, dancing like an old lady, feeling the pure bliss of being swept away by the insane energy of the concert.

The combination of the music, the crowd's energy, and the enchanting presence of Alex on stage created an atmosphere that was nothing short of magical.

'Arabella' was the sixth song played that night, and I'll never forget it. As soon as I heard that familiar guitar at the beginning of the song, I could feel the excitement running through my veins. It is one of my all-time favorite songs, a track that holds a special place in my heart. I can't quite put into words what it makes me feel, but it is a mix of exhilaration, warmth, and an indescribable amazing sensation.

My legs turned to jelly, and I found myself leaning against a nearby wall for support as I watched in awe. The combination of Cookie's amazing guitar riffs, Matt's powerful drumming skills, and Nick's pulsating bass lines drove the crowd into a frenzy. The energy was palpable, radiating through every beat and note.

My attention was drawn to Matt and his extraordinary talent behind the drum kit. His precision and sheer passion were a sight to behold. As I focused on him, completely immersed in the music, that indescribable feeling of watching my favorite band perform live washed over me one more time.

And then, it happened again. When I shifted my gaze towards Alex, I found him looking straight at me. Our eyes locked in for the second time that night, making my cheeks flush. I was grateful for the dim lighting that hid my embarrassment.

As he sang, a smile formed on his lips, almost like he knew what he was doing: singing my favorite song and looking straight into my eyes. I felt like he was singing it just for me. It was a crazy moment, and it made me down the rest of my beer in one gulp. I swear he let out a soft chuckle, away from the microphone.

As the last verse sounded through the air, I knew I had to sing along with the crowd, my voice merging with the chorus. "That's magic! On a cheetah print coat!" The lyrics echoed around me, lighting up my face with a huge smile while the tear roamed free.

As the concert continued, there were a few more instances when my and Alex's eyes met, a fleeting connection in the midst of the electrifying atmosphere. But I brushed it off, convincing myself that it was just part of his stage presence, a way to engage with the audience.

But, as the final notes of the last song gradually faded into the air, signaling the end of an unforgettable night, I figured that Alex would follow his bandmates, disappearing into the same entrance he came from. To my surprise, he broke away from the rest of the guys, walking towards the side of the stage I was at.

His steps were purposeful and determined, making my heart race as he approached. The gap between us was closing quickly, and I tried to steady my trembling hands and calm my racing thoughts.

A rush of excitement and disbelief flooded me as he stood before me, and I was hit by the combination of wood, whisky, and tobacco scent that he emanated, leaving me momentarily speechless. His eyes sparkled with exhaustion and genuine appreciation.

"You sure look like you had a great time, love," he said with a husky voice, sending shivers down my spine. I couldn't help but let the butterflies fly around my stomach by the way he casually referred to me as 'love,' that charming British accent adding an extra layer of charm to his character.

I mustered a shy smile. His presence was magnetic and the whirlwind of emotions inside me made it difficult to speak.

His gaze traveled up and down my figure, a playful glimmer danced in Alex's eyes as he glanced at my t-shirt. "Your choice of attire is quite captivating," he said, letting out a laugh that made my cheeks flush. "Join me for a beer, will ya?" he asked, his tone more of a confident statement than a mere question, gesturing for me to follow him deeper into the backstage area.

"Al, mate, come join us!" Matt's voice carried excitement for the post-show celebration. "We're going out for-"

"Not tonight, man," Alex responded without even glancing in Matt's direction, his eyes fixed on mine, unyielding. "I think I'll just head back to the hotel. Thanks, though."

I stood there, stunned, as Alex brushed off his friend's invitation without a second thought, leaving me wondering if he had a different plan in mind. Matt shrugged and joined the rest of the band, while I remained rooted to the spot, my mind swirling.

"Well, it looks like I have some free time," Alex's eyes held a glimmer of curiosity and a hint of a smile danced on his lips. "How about we grab that beer we were talking 'bout?"

Excitement coursed through my body, and I nodded eagerly, unable to contain my smile. "Sounds great," I replied, my voice filled with faked confidence. "Lead the way."

As Alex led me through the backstage area, we entered a private room tucked away from the bustling crowd. The moment the door closed behind us, the noise dissipated, leaving behind a sense of tranquility. The room was dimly lit, adorned with vintage music posters and instruments that had an aura of creative energy.

Alex approached a small cooler, grabbing a couple of cold beers, and handing one to me. "Here you go," he said with a charming smile. "Make yourself at home, darlin'. I'm just gonna change real quick,"

"Thank you," I replied, accepting the beer gratefully. My heart raced, the British mannerisms swiping me off my feet again. I watched him disappear into the bathroom, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As Alex left, I took a moment to take in the room. The instruments scattered across the space caught my attention, particularly the grand piano sitting in the corner. My fingers itched with the desire to touch the keys. It had been ages since I last played one.

Leaving my beer on a nearby table, I made my way to the piano bench. Sitting down with my back turned to the bathroom door, I ran my fingers gently over the smooth ivory keys, and began to play a familiar tune, allowing the notes to flow from my fingertips.

The sound filled the room, a gentle melody that mirrored my emotions. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the music, letting it carry me away from the moment. When I was younger, I used to say that the piano was my voice, expressing the emotions that my words couldn't capture.

The sound of footsteps made me snap back into reality. I swiftly rose from the bench, ready to apologize for my impromptu performance, but before any words could escape my lips, Alex interjected.

"Please, don't" Alex said, his voice laced with a hint of awe. He stood at a distance, his eyes fixed on me and his hands shoved into the pockets of his worn leather jacket. "That was beautiful. You have a gift."

"Thank you," I managed to say, my voice betraying any attempt at sounding nonchalant. "It's been a while since I've played."

He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with playful charm. "Well, consider me a lucky man then."

A genuine smile spread across my face as I admired Alex's transformed appearance. He had tidied up his hair and changed into a sleek white collar dress shirt that accentuated his abs. His leather jacket added a touch of rebellious charm, and he was wearing that illegally sexy scarf of his.

"You look like a brand new person." I remarked, walking past him to retrieve my beer can.

He smirked, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "A change of clothes and a splash of cologne can work wonders, wouldn't you agree?" he replied, his voice dripping with playful modesty.

I smiled at him once again, feeling a sense of ease settling between us. Taking a sip from my beer can, I realized I hadn't properly introduced myself. "I'm YN, by the way," I said, trying to keep the conversation casual.

"It's a pleasure, YN. I'm Alex," he replied warmly, his voice inviting. I couldn't help but chuckle quietly, knowing exactly who the musical genius before me was.

"The pleasure is all mine," I responded, lifting my can in a toast. The clinking sound filled the air.

His gaze shifted towards the vinyl player nestled in the corner of the room, catching his attention. He walked over to it, selected a disc and delicately placed it on the turntable. The soft crackle of the needle meeting the vinyl filled the air, as the melodic tunes gracefully unfolded.

Returning his focus to me, his eyes sparkled with curiosity, a genuine interest shining through. "So, YN, what brings you here tonight?" he inquired, his voice carrying a gentle warmth.

I couldn't help but laugh at his question. "Aside from your amazing songs?" I replied playfully, my gaze meeting his. "Well, my friend is working backstage, and she managed to get me a ticket. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you perform live."

He nodded, a hint of appreciation in his eyes, and then he extended his hand towards me, gently taking hold of my beer can and setting it aside.

"Will you dance with me, YN?" he asked, his voice turning my thoughts into a blissful haze, as my name rolled off his tongue.

My heart skipped a beat, and I eagerly placed my hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch. "I'd be delighted," I replied, my voice had a hint of nervousness to it. "I must warn you, though, I'm not the best dancer."

He simply smiled, his touch steady yet gentle, as his other hand found its place on my waist, effortlessly guiding me across the dance floor. We moved in harmony, a mixture of playful twirls and gentle sways, surrendering ourselves to the embrace of the music.

The song came to an end, and as if on cue, Alex pulled me even closer, making me look at him. The room buzzed with energy. His hand, which had been resting on my waist, moved to the back of my head, gently tangling in my hair, sending a thrilling shiver down my spine.

My lips parted with a soft sigh, surrendering to the gentle tug he made on my hair. The reaction prompted Alex, as he leaned in, allowing our lips to touch in a delicate kiss.

His lips were soft and insistent, exploring every inch of my mouth. It felt like he was perfect.

The room was filled with the gentle white noise of the needle scratching the record, creating a soothing ambiance. But then my phone started buzzing in the background. We initially ignored it, lost in our passionate exchange, but after it rang three times, Alex broke the kiss.

"Maybe you should answer that, doll," he whispered, his fingers caressing my hair as he brought me back to reality.

"Hey, Lan," I said softly, my gaze locked into his dark brown eyes. He stared right back at me.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?" Lana's voice boomed through the phone, making me hold it away from my ear.

Alex burst into laughter, seemingly amused by the situation.

"I'm sorry, Lana. I got carried away," I explained.

"Oh, come on! Who's with you? I heard laughter," Lana teased, her voice adopting a playful tone. "Did you meet someone?"

"Oh, she definitely met someone," Alex interjected, his distinct accent making his words stand out.

"Is that-" Lana started to ask, but her question remained unfinished. It was an overwhelming experience for me.

"May I?" Alex asked, reaching for my phone, and I nodded.

"She's alright, Lana. She'll be with you shortly," he assured her before ending the call.

"One for the road?" he whispered, his fingers gently tracing my swollen lips.

I chuckled in response, and he leaned in, our lips meeting once again in a passionate embrace.

"Can I have your number?" he asked, his forehead resting against mine.

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This has been rotting in my drafts since May, I truly didn't know how to end it so I just left an open ending I guess.

I also experimented writing in first person, which I don't intend on doing anymore tbh but let me know if you liked it anyways.

I've been asked a couple times to tag people, so lmk if you'd like to be tagged on my next fic.

As always, love youuu 💕💕💕

~ Bella

[blazehedgehog]

Recently I’ve been playing, and loving, Penny’s Big Breakaway and it’s made me realize how stiff official Sonic games have felt since Sonic Heroes. It feels fantastic to chain moves together as Penny. While I don’t want a Sonic game to play exactly like Penny’s Big Breakaway I do want to enter a similar flow state while playing. Sonic Team seems allergic to making any gameplay/movement options that allows for flow… do you have any idea why?

That's the 65-million-dollar question, isn't it.

Several times over the years I've pushed back on the idea when people say Sonic "can't work in 3D." Of course Sonic could work in 3D, it just takes the right team to build it. The concepts and principals of a Sonic game are not exclusive to 2D. You can build a game on those ideals in 3D and it will work just fine.

If you go back and watch my "How Do We Fix Sonic?" video, I also put forth the idea that a lot of 3D Sonic games are the way they are because Sonic Team does not trust the player. To some degree, rightfully so: there's a growing pile of one-level fangame demos where some college kid tries to do 3D Sonic "right" and while a lot of them are okay, I think it makes for an easy case to see why official Sonic games have so much scripting in them.

When you're going that fast, and you're that acrobatic, it becomes very easy to make some incredibly dumb mistakes. It's not that nobody can play that game, it's that a game like that might struggle to achieve mass market appeal. Sonic is, first and foremost, a pick-up-and-play game. I've been thinking of that term a lot lately since the release of Ring Racers, and it basically means a game you don't have to learn. A game where you turn it on and know everything about it instinctively.

The entire pitch for Sonic was a game you could play with just one button. Easy to start playing, difficult to master over the long term. It's a tough balancing act. Especially when you're aiming for a game that a 10 year old can play.

When I was 10 years old, I couldn't even stay on the road in Super Mario Kart. That's what we're working with here.

So they make Sonic into this guided experience with heavy scripting where they can insulate the player from making dangerous mistakes. Lots of spectacle and minimal friction.

Now you add in the pressure of deadlines and budgets. A fangame like Sonic GT can spend five years as an alpha still figuring out its level design, tweaking its mechanics, before finally releasing a four or five level "game." Whereas an official Sonic game probably has to make a pitch, get to alpha, nail all of its controls and mechanics down relatively early. Probably within the first year of development at least, if not within a period of months.

Then they have to build a game for those mechanics. And, with being so scripted and directed, they can't deviate much. Once they're locked in, they don't have a lot of wiggle room to redefine what the game plays like.

That even goes for researching better ways to do things. I don't think these guys were given much of a chance to stop and think. Sonic Adventure 1 came out in October 1998 in Japan, that team moved to America to work on the September 1999 United States release, Sonic Adventure 2 was announced probably not even six months later, it came out within 18 months of its announcement just in time for that team to crank on the super rushed Gamecube port, which segued into an equally rushed port of the original Sonic Adventure, then their first multiplatform release on a third-party engine just a year or two later, followed by a sequel less than two years later, and another sequel less than two years after that...

Running and running and running and never stopping... and, well, I guess this is just what Sonic in 3D plays like now, right? That's the precedent. Sales are relying on not alienating people who are used to the way these games play.

Plus, it also depends on who within Sega is involved. I tend to agree that we shouldn't pin decisions all on one guy anymore for how many developers are actually involved in a game (200+ for Sonic Frontiers), but it's hard to deny that in the Morio Kishimoto era of 3D Sonic games, they've made a dedicated to effort to lock Sonic down and script his movements more than ever. Starting in Sonic Colors all the way up to the most recent Sega of Japan games, player movement is more restricted and automatically controlled than any other Sonic games to come before it.

Even Sonic Frontiers, for all of its open zone gameplay, once you touch a rail or one of those floating platforms, it tries to restrict and control you as much as humanly possible. Helicopter parent game design. "Do it my way exactly, or stop playing the game."

And I think all of this just collides with itself and makes a big ugly mess. I think it's telling Sonic Unleashed is such a cult favorite given its the closest thing we've had to a decent reboot of mechanics, even though it's still trapped in a lot of that scripted spectacle design.

[princeandrogyne]

I am chadgina and you should go to class please...

I've already missed too much they are like the 3 hours classes and ill never catch up and they hate me and I don't know whats going on and I don't want to be there and everytime I drive to the building I burst into tears im so humiliated to even be there. There's no point I can't pass and I don't even want to be a fucking accountant I ruined everything when I tried to keep my regular work schedule and when I became sick in my engineering school last year and had to drop out there's nothing else I wanted to do and I can't go back im not smart enough I'm not built for it in fact I don't think I'm built for college at all its got no real structure I hate it anyway im not smart enough to get a bachelors im just going to have to work low level jobs forever until I kill myself and im okay with that

[aces-and-angels]

bearing more agnes and jina asks because once again, I love them:

what got them both into law? Do they have certain thoughts about the academia?

what's their favourite part about the park & davis hq? the offices, the proximity to coffee shops etc, y'know like their own little office space?

do they consider themselves as a mentor? If yes, what do they aspire to do/teach? if not, what do they consider themselves as to their employees, outside of the whole coworker/boss/etc denomination?

i too love and adore them- so i must give these wonderful questions wonderful answers. here's round two of an exclusive interview with agnes and jina🖤

---

what got them both into law?

a: law was not my end goal by any means. my original plan was to end up working in a lab doing research and whatnot. j: sounds dreadful. a (snorts): says the woman who barely passed chemistry. j (deadpanned): i was a poli-sci major for a reason. a: wasn't your father an electrical engineer? j: aptitude isn't genetic. a (smirking): clearly. j: just get back to your story, yeah? a: fine. well, i was- how do you say- 'radicalized' during college. couldn't pry that megaphone out of my hands no matter how hard you tried. even if ji over here had a problem with it. j: the issue wasn't you having a megaphone. it was where you were pointing it at that was the problem. your protests had zero direction. a: good thing i met you then, huh? j (rolls eyes fondly): met is putting it lightly. you, my friend, were impossible to ignore. a: one conversation with ji was all it took for me to march over to my advisor's office and switch to pre-law. j: i don't think i said all that much to you. a: are you kidding? the whole 'i'm but a speck compared to the injustices others have experienced. i want to be a part of the solution.' that's what you consider as not much? j (suppressing a grin): hm. a: she won't bring this up, so i will. ji was also captain of her debate team in high school.

do they have certain thoughts about academia?

j: there's a lot of politics surrounding it. on paper, we did everything right. but legacy is a powerful thing in academia as well as the legal profession as a whole. where you go to school, who you know- all of that matters. a: it's a never ending cycle of elitism that systematically keeps these organizations- j: white. a: exactly. right now, we're an anomaly. that's why we fund the scholarships we do. there are so many brilliant minds who just need to be given a chance to truly thrive.

what's their favorite part about the park & davis hq?

a and j simultaneously: mr. mercado. a: i adore that man. he owned one of the food carts that was stationed near our old office building. best veggie tacos i've ever had. j: our entire staff loved him so much that we decided to bring him along with us when we moved our hq to manhattan. now he's one of the main cooks at our commissary. a: i'm also a big fan of our in-office garden walls. j (chuckling): of course you are. you designed them. a: what, i can't be proud?

do they consider themselves as mentors?

j: i'm not sure if mentor is the right word to describe our role a: i'd like to take on mentees, but it's not feasible with our current schedule. j: what we do is pair our newer associates with more senior members of the firm based on our annual evaluations. the goal is for both parties to enhance their abilities. a: the system has its growing pains. some pairs get along better than others. j: that reminds me- mendoza's newest mentee- what was his name again? a (scans through spreadsheet): zahir. j: ah, yes. he seems to be having a hard time acclimating. should we reassign him? donna's last mentee recently transferred. a: give it time, ji. i still think those two will be good for each other.

[wine-and-fanficideas]

Unfortunately Your Reputation Precedes you

Part 2

Part 1

Dpxdc TW for fic topics include rape, child abuse, abuse, murder

Sam (15) - Danny (15) - Danielle (15) - Jazz (17)

*Story Starts Here*

Danny would be starting his sophomore year with Danielle. The Fenton Portal was destroyed in the explosion, and Vlad actually closed his portal when he wasnt actively using it. He wasnt sure what to expect of a year without ghost attacks, much less attending a private school.

Sam, at least, would be transfering with him. Tucker, unfortunately, couldn't afford the tuition.

Amity Park Private High School was vastly different than Casper High. Uniforms, for one, and a strict expectation of excellence, preparing the students for their future careers before they even picked their college or university.

Danny wasn't surprised by his class list. Bussiness, Management, Engineering, Economics, everything he'd need to be Heir to Vlad's corporate empire.

Dani's list wasnt much better. Dance, Gymnastics, Health & Beauty, it was like she was being prepped to be a trophy wife.

Danny glanced through the list and realized, that probably exactly what was happening.

"Tools," Sam said. "That's all we are to them,"

Sam's list was an odd blend of the 'twins' lists.

"I'm expected to both inherit the company and marry well," Sam waved her crumpled list. "So wifey classes and business classes."

"This is so messed up," Dani groaned.

Danny wanted to be angrier about this, summer had just started and they had two and a half months before school started again, but it was hard to feel anything for any notable length of time.

He couldn't remember the last conversation he had with his parents.

Had it been a fight? Did he tell them he loved them? Did he hug his Mom? Did his Dad squeeze his shoulder? When had it been, their last conversation? If he had known that was the last time he'd ever see them again-

"Which is why I'll have to wash the dye out,"

Danny blinked. "Die?"

"Hair dye," Sam said. "My Dad's blond, and my mother a red head. You really think my hair is naturally black?"

"Your Grandmother could've had black hair,"

"Nope, blonde and ginger are recessive genes. Didn't you read any of the notes on genetics Tucker and I made you last year?"

"...there's a square and the letters match up and that's somehow dna math?"

Sam groaned, half choking on a laugh as she shook her head.

"I'm blonde, Danny. I've been dying my hair black and purple since middle school."

"Why can't you keep doing that?"

"Because AP Private has a strict dress code, including hair dye regulations."

"...is purple your actual eye color?"

" No Danny," Sam said. "Purple is not typically a natural eye color."

"...do you wear contacts?"

"Yep. Did you not know that? Tucker found out years ago."

"Didn't seem important? I don't know I never thought about it."

"Well, I'm blonde," Sam said. "And under my colored prescription contacts, my eyes are grey. I never liked the way I looked, which is why I did all the hair dying and contacts and piercings. I thought, if I was a blank canvas, how would I paint myself? And then I did,"

Days seemed to blend together that summer. It was so weird, living with Vlad. Danny had two cards, one debit and one credit. He knew Vlad was tracking his purchases, but he couldn't sleep in the lifeless room.

He redecorated it, from the ceiling full of stars to the the books on the shelves, he shopped until the cards were declined.

That was also the first time Vlad hit him.

It was different from their fights as Hero and Villain had been.

Before Danny could've fought back, or dodged, or even spat something snarky at the Fruitloop.

But Danny couldn't muster up the desire to dodge right now, much less anything else. Going intangible was more instinct than conscious thought, but Vlad was expecting that.

Danny lay in his room, his face stinging. This wasnt fair. This wasn't right. He rolled over and screamed into a pillow.

[morganas-pendragons]

hi! so maybe this is entirely unneeded and maybe even unhelpful. (i really hope it isn't because this is supposed to be encouraging.)

i got my bachelor's degree a few months ago (i know master's programs are entirely different monsters that can't be compared) but leading up to that i had one shitty semester the fall of my senior year (preceded by a poor choice of taking unnecessary summer classes to distract myself from a family loss and a serious mental illness diagnosis) that put everything at risk of being kicked out of my program and made me lose scholarships (i was studying engineering at a sort of prestigious school).

it was stressful and it was shit (i relied entirely on scholarships, my parents could never afford tuition). it felt like the despair and anxiety would never end... which might seem like an over-exaggeration but i was a first-gen college kid to immigrant parents, so it all felt high stakes.

(sorry if that was more information than you ever wanted/needed from a stranger)

as is, academia is it's own special sort of hell and accompanied by any of the other side effects of life (family, friendships, loss, illness, take your pick) it feels impossible to get through.

so, feel free to take this with a grain of salt (or don't):

i wanna say that i'm rooting for you (imagine painted signs with your lucky number and desired nickname along with a full-blown marching band playing your favorite song-type rooting for you)

i've been following your blog for sometime and from what you've shared about your life, i'd say you're resilient. and while the expectation of resiliency can be absolute shit (sometimes you do just want to break down and cry-- like why do i need to get back up), it's also an incredibly admirable quality.

and (another thing i hate to hear, but is often true) it'll all work out. even if doesn't feel like it, it will. simply because you will make it work out and (unfortunately and fortunately) that's sort of what resilient people do.

wishing you the best and knowing you'll get through this.

sincerely,

anon standing in your corner

I decided to go ahead and post this because it was the SWEETEST thing to wake up to 😭 Thank you, Anon. You have no idea how badly I needed this!

[starkerhowlter]

Princess Parker -- 10

Rating: M Ship: starker (tony stark / peter parker) Tags: Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fashion Designer Peter Parker, Engineer Student Tony Stark, slow burn, stolen moments Summary: Tony Stark’s in love.

But not with the conventional. Instead, his soulmate is known for temper tantrums about pink lemonades that are too sour and scuffs on the toe of his Louboutin shoes. He’s materialistic, superficial, and cares way too much about his face.

So why can’t Tony stay away?

Read it below or on AO3

One more chapter to go!!! I'll save my sappy speech for the end chapter, but as always, I owe the world to my squishbean and other half @cozysafechaotic for everything ey do to and for carving out time in eir busy life to edit my monstrosities into something worth reading. Also special shout out to my squad of sprinters and supporters (you know who you are) without whom this might not exist

10-- Behind the Universe's Back

"You actually came." A voice sighs with relief softly from behind Tony.

"Of course, I told you I'd be here, Peter. Why would I trick you like that?" He smiles at Peter from his place on the floor across the darkened room, the orange sunset streaming through the windows.

"I wasn't sure. But to be fair, I've never had anyone send me gifts and treats. I mean, people's heads turn when you do things like that." Peter approaches, sitting down crisscrossed in front of him their knees touching.

"Don't people's heads turn when you walk by anyway Peter? You're you! Not many people can overlook you."

"Oh, I know. But these looks are less of jealousy or distaste and more of curiosity. As though people can't believe I have someone interested in me."

"You come off like I do," Tony replies, simply.

"And how's that?"

"Play. Boy." he enunciates. "People think you're one and done. You don't commit and you prefer to be on the market so people can long for you." Peter's shoulders droop when Tony clarifies.

"Do people really think that?"

"Well... yes. I don't but I know better. What did you want to talk about earlier in the classroom?"

"I just wanted to know if you would be okay with this. The whole sneaking around thing. We'd have to meet in places like this where there aren't any people just to avoid being caught." Peter motions to the room around them, as if showing the absence of noise.

"I think I'm okay with that. People are dumb anyway. They tend to ruin the beauty and ignore the consequences. I know bathrooms aren't the cleanest places to meet but a majority of them in the science buildings aren't being used. We'd be safe. What are you suggesting we do in these secretive little escapades?"

Peter blushes a deep pink, and the sparkles on his cheeks catch the sunset. He looks fucking ethereal, but to Tony, Peter's already an angel. He sighs, kissing Peter gently. "Well, whatever you're planning, I hope it includes more of this."

"What do you mean?"

"Talking to you. You're so fucking smart and you don't show it."

"Shut up, Tony." He replies, a soft smile playing at his lips.

"Make me." Peter furrows his brow, leaning forward to rest on his hand as he kisses Tony. He sighs into the kiss, hoping the other can feel every ounce of longing Peter has kept pent up for the last three months.

"I need you to understand this, Tony." He states, "Look at me for this." Tony obliges, meeting Peter's honey eyes, "I. Want. You."

"Fuck." Tony states, not really to anyone in particular. As though the word itself awakened something in him, Tony surges forward and kisses Peter passionately, tilting him back towards the floor.

He doesn't fully realize what he's done until Peter cries out, "Ow! Fuck. I thought this floor was carpeting!" Peter sits up on his elbows, rubbing the back of his head with a giggle.

The other laughs softly, leaning away and helping to pull him up "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, that just really fucking hurt." As he leans in to connect their mouths again, his phone begins ringing in his pocket. "Really? I swear to gods the universe really doesn't want us together!" He pulls it out, seeing a call from MJ. "I have to take this. I'm so sorry. She never calls unless it's a crisis." Peter sighs, rising to his feet.

"No, go! Take care of that.” Tony says with a smile, as he stands himself. ”I’ll see you around, Peter. If you need me, you know how to find me." Tony backed away towards the door "Oh, and word of advice, if you're going to lurk on someone's Instagram, maybe don't like their post from 11 months ago." He backs through the door with a wink, disappearing into the hallway and not sticking around to see Peter's reaction to the statement.

"Did I really--" He shakes his head, answering the call as he walks towards the opposite door. "MJ, what's wrong?"

"Gwen and I went to a party, and one of her exes is here. We need a quick escape but neither of us can drive because we were drinking. Can you come to get us?"

"On my way." He replied, pulling his keys out of his pocket and pressing the button on the elevator door. "Where are you guys?"

"Cherry Avenue." She replies as someone cries out in the background. "Hey I'll call you back, Gwen’s gonna puke." She ends the call before he can reply, and he sighs, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

Why can't he just be with Tony again? Maybe they could watch the Randy Fernoli runway show for 2015 and eat popcorn. Gods, what he wouldn't give to be there with him.

In the parking lot, he approaches his car and unlocks the door. The rose gold chrome Audi chirps back as he starts it. The air blows gently against his curls and the soft sound of whatever playlist he had on last fills the car. He pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards Cherry Avenue.

_-_-_-_-_-_-

Tony arrives back at his dorm and catches sight of Dum-E playing with a box of wires. "Hey, hey hey!!! Everything is organized!! Well, was…" He rushes over, pulling against the arm. "Don't move anything! If you needed repairs you should have told me! Not attempted to do them yourself!"

_-_-_-_-_-_-

Peter rolls to a stop in front of the house to see the two girls moving from the porch to the car. Gwen's white-knuckle grip on MJ's hand becomes clear to Peter in the headlights. "Is she okay?" He asks, getting out and holding on to Gwen’s other arm.

"Yeah, she just had a panic attack. She just needs to get back to her room.” The two of them gently helped Gwen into the passenger seat. “I drove her here but I’m too cross-faded to take her back. Thank you for coming to get her." MJ kissed Peter’s cheek.

"Of course! Go have fun. I'll keep her safe." Peter hugs MJ before getting into the car himself and driving back to the dorms.

_-_-_-_-_-_-

When they arrive, he leads her to her room, making her a glass of water. "Are you okay? Do you need me to stay with you?"

"I'm okay." Gwen finally replies, "I just need to sleep it off." She hugs the boy, taking a sip of water. "Thank you for saving me. Really, I mean it."

"Always. I'm glad I could help you. If you need me, call and I’ll come back. Don’t you dare hesitate, Gweny.” Peter kissed his friend's forehead gently. “Rest easy.”

"Night, Peter."

-

Thank you so much for reading!!! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are MUCH appreciated

[ippid]

Finding Passion - Kylian Mbappé

Chapter – 1

It was getting harder for me to pretend my joints weren't killing me, and I had to actually drag myself out of bed. I always wake up early because I'm motivated the day before to work out, and then I lay in my bed for what feels like seconds but is actually an hour or three. It's a bad habit I'm trying to get rid of without the trying part.

Meaning, I'm thinking about how much I need to do it and then actually not doing it.

Also, a bad habit.

Lately, I've been feeling more and more restless. I'm 19 years old, and I feel like I'm dead inside.

I'm not depressed or anything. Don't have any crazy stories to tell. I don't have any character-building traumas in my past or anything that would make me a person of interest in the slightest. But I'm feeling dead inside because my life is just so damn boring. Nothing ever happens, and I'm living in this stupid cycle where I feel like I'm never moving forward. I'm not accomplishing anything special in life, and I'm not making any crazy money either. I still live at home with my parents, and I've quit two of my previous attempts at college.

My parents are definitely disappointed in a failure like me. I just know it. I know my parents love me a lot, and they treat me well and support me and everything, but I can just tell they're disappointed because I'm not doing anything with my life.

I never wanted to be this way, but I can't help it. Not only that, but I see everyone around me moving forward with their lives. Buying cars and getting their degrees and jobs. I can see everybody enjoying life and then there's me who is just stuck in one place.

As I said, I can't help it. I get distracted easily and I lose motivation fast. The only thing I do basically all day long is search the internet for fan fiction and other interesting stuff that holds my attention but doesn't benefit me in any way. Or listen to music.

It wasn't always like this, though. Back in high school, I was still good. Everything was fine. I didn't have to do much for a good grade, and I knew I was a smart girl. I was good at a lot of things. Math, science, physics, languages, you name it and I could do it without having to kill myself to understand all the information. I was very proud of this fact, to be honest. I thought I was good and wouldn't really struggle much when I graduated.

That was a lie.

After I graduated and applied for college, I thought I would be interested in becoming an Architect. So I signed up and because it was the first year that everybody had to deal with Covid-19, the courses were hectic and everything became too much, too fast, and I couldn't keep up. I had always hated online learning anyway. The information just doesn't register. It feels like I'm watching a tutorial instead of a lecture. I kept putting things off and in the end, I missed the deadlines and felt like I couldn't do it anymore.

So I dropped out.

I lost interest, and I didn't think it was worth fighting for something I was probably not even going to enjoy doing in the future.

Back then, I didn't stress much. I was freshly 18, and I felt like I was still young, and I could explore my interests better.

So I signed up for a different field of study. I went and decided I could probably handle ICT. Wanted to become a software engineer, so I could make a lot of money and travel without having to go to work every day from 9 to 5. I thought it was a great idea and I would probably be able to do it.

I guess not.

Like the time before, these were still online courses and the material was just too complex for me to understand anything on a deeper level without real face-to-face explanations.

I realized some things then.

1. I don't do good without confrontation. In high school, I went to class and the teacher called you out if you had to answer something, and you just had to know these things if you didn't want to look like a dumb fool. So you studied and took in the information that was provided for you and everything was just easy. Here, you don't have anybody coddling you. You have to do everything yourself, and I am very bad at that. I always think I have more time than I actually do and end up procrastinating so much that I actually miss the damn deadlines.

2. I can't do something I'm not interested in because I will never find the motivation to actually research and do everything that is necessary to pass these college courses when I'm not even interested.

3. I really, really needed to search and find what I wanted to do, and what interests me because I can't keep starting up an education and then dropping out.

Not only that, but I think I will end up actually killing my parents if I do that. My mom's been feeling sick lately. Burnt out and tired. They had me pretty late, and my parents are definitely getting old. So I feel like every time I do something to upset them, or don't do something, I suppose, it weighs them down way more than it normally would or should.

Even with these realizations, I haven't gotten really far.

I just know I don't want a job where I need to think overly much and do paperwork all day. I want something creative and fun with variety. Something I won't get tired of. Something with lots of opportunities and where I can learn more without it feeling like a damn burden.

I've always been good at crafting, drawing, and fixing stuff. I like that a lot, so I've thought about doing something in that area, but I still have no clue what. I wanted to try photography. That's also something I'm very interested in since I've always been the designated photographer for people. But if I do that, then I want to be a photographer for sports or idols. Preferably, for K-pop idols. One of the things I enjoy the most.

I wasn't going to come to a decision right now, though, so I would just have to get up and try to help my mom in the house.

I never actually go outside if I don't have to. My parents have tried to get me to go out, so I could do something, but it's always a temporary thing, and it rarely comes from me personally. So I try to at least help as much as I can around the house.

I've never been a party animal. In fact, I've never been to any parties before, except maybe in middle school a couple of times. I have 2 or 3 friends that I snap with occasionally and one best friend who I almost never see.

I finally drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face before anything else.

My hair is a mess, and I try to rectify that with a bit of water after removing it from the bun it was supposed to be in and retying it in a ponytail. It always looks short. My hair doesn't grow fast and with it being so curly, I never really notice any differences in length unless I straighten my hair.

After I'm done with that, I tidy up my room a bit and head downstairs to greet my parents. I find my mom in the kitchen making coffee and my dad sitting at the table with some toast and a newspaper in front of him.

I know, and I told you, my parents are old. I greet him and walk up to my mom to kiss her on the cheek. ''Good morning mom.''

''Good morning sweetheart.'' My mom says, smiling at me. That's new, she's not usually smiling this early in the morning. ''What's up mom?'' I say. ''Why are you smiling like that?''

She brings the coffee to the table and sits down next to my dad before turning to me. "We have something to tell you, honey."

Okay, now I'm even more curious. ''We're going to go on a little vacation, and we want you to come with us.'' Oh. Well, I wasn't expecting that, but I'm definitely not complaining. ''Wow, mom, where to?'' I ask ''And how long?''

''Well, we were thinking about going to Paris for a week. It's not that far from here, so we don't have to go by plane. We can take the train.'' She said. I thought about it for a second while taking a seat at the table.

Like I said before, I never really go out and have fun, but I did always have the desire to travel. We live in the Netherlands, Amsterdam, and I have never been to Paris before. Which is crazy. I heard amazing things about Paris, of course. And it didn't hurt that a lot of people moved there for their studies, so maybe with this little vacation, I can at least find some inspiration as to what I want to do in life.

With that, I made up my mind. ''That's great mom! I've always wanted to go there.'' I say ''When are we leaving?''

My parents look at each other and smile. I could see I made them happy with my enthusiastic answer. They've been a bit more insistent that I have fun in the last couple of weeks. So my agreement is probably a relief for them. I can feel that familiar pang of guilt again. They really do deserve so much better than me. I've got to get my shit together.

I try not to let it get to me while I wait to hear when we're leaving.

My dad is the one that answers after looking over at me, ''We're leaving early in the morning this coming Friday, and we'll stay there for 8 nights. We'll return Saturday evening. Make sure you're packed and ready to go on Thursday, kiddo.'' Wow, I hadn't thought we'd be leaving so soon.

It's Tuesday today, so I don't have much time left till we leave. But that doesn't even matter because it's not like I take forever to get ready. I only have to pack clothes.

The more I think about it the more excited I become. I smile to myself and look over at my parents ''Alright, I'm really excited about this! I'm going to let Jess know!'' I say while getting up, ready to run back to my room and phone, so I could text my best friend to let her know.

''Not so fast kiddo, breakfast first!'' My dad says, making me turn around and sit back down quickly.

My parents laugh while I speed through my breakfast, and once I'm done, I quickly kiss both of them on the cheek before sprinting upstairs, ready to tell Jess the news.

.

.

.

A/N

Word count :  1875 words

[blossomingtoanewme]

My life currently

College is about failing. It's about discovering who you are, your passions, your bad habits. It's a time in your adolescence when you are completely on your own, in the worsts ways and best ways possible.

The first two years, I discovered my passions. I changed my major and found something I was passionate about. I tried hard in those classes and struggled in most.

During my third year, I was faced with a health issue. The trajectory of my life changed after receiving a chronic illness diagnosis. That whole year resulted in me struggling mentally and physically. I went from being a dean's list student to failing a whole semester. What made the semester unique is that I received treatment for my illness.

With the new year, I decided that I need to reach out for help. I shouldn't be struggling on my own. I decided to reach out to my universities disabilities office and requested accommodations for my illness.

You see, my illness changed everything about me. Well physically, I probably look like there's nothing wrong with me. I don't have any physical injures or disabilities. The issue is everything is happening internally.

I no longer have the energy to get up in the mornings and make myself food. I can't workout, go to classes, or do any extracurriculars. I never know if today I will have a flare up. Sometimes the drowsiness, fatigue, and brain fog makes it hard to function on a day to day basis.

I only have one year of college left. I've created my schedule for the next three semesters. If everything goes as planned, I shouldn't have any issues with my balancing my classes and graduating.

The only issue I do have is doing my assignments or going to class. I don't know if it's the brainfog, but I always forget my assignments if its not infront of me. I'm not good with remembering things like names, dates, and especially math formulas. See this doesn't help because I'm an engineering major, I can't forget those trivial things.

I sometimes mourn at what my life would've been like without this diagnosis. I was so close to graduating and everything was going well. I used to do so many things at once. For example I worked two jobs, was on an e-board committee, meal prepped, and worked out. Now I can't even imagine doing all of those things now even if I wanted to.

The thing is I've adjusted well to the disease. I changed my diet, go to my appointments with specialists, and I've accepted my illness. I also take my medication daily. All I need to do now is work towards balancing being a student and someone with a chronic illness.

I well say though that I've accepted the hair loss since my hair is growing back now. That was one of the biggest changes.

[jetherizer]

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(Erika Fay Galicia)

She

she's a simple woman with big and pure heart.

she'll give you the world without noticing it.

she's a fighter of her dreams.

she's fully-determinated in everything she do.

she's sweet, kind, lovely. she's a proof that fairytales are true.

she's everyone's ideal woman.

she's a giver, without asking something in return.

she's a high class academic achiever.

she's a dream. a dream that everyone wants to experience.

He

he's a gamer, typical computer shop kid.

he's lazy. he's that kid with "good-for-nothing" identity.

he's dumb, and i fucking hate him.

he's a doubter of his own.

he can play drums and guitars but too lazy to show his talents.

he prefer to sit and play all the fucking time like there's no tomorrow.

he was a journalist back in highschool, a fucking cartoonist, a volleyball player, an average student.

but when he started college, everything has changed. because he met a lot of toxic people in the city.

the questions is

could they be a match? YES!

she reached her full potential being with him.

maximized her skills on everything.

when it comes in budgeting, oh no, even the person who created the idea of budgeting got nothing on her.

she taught him how to walk in the dark.

she made him realize what's life.

she ler him feel what's the real life,

a life that you must work hard to get everything you want.

she is his favorite teacher, his favorite experience.

she is the best thing that ever happened to him.

she is the best love.

nagkanda letche letche na lahat, and you're still constantly giving me assurance. even how many fights we've been through you're still there sitting beside me. tinalikuran na ako ng lahat lahat, you still offered you shoulder to lean on.

hayaan mo akong bumawi, hayaan mong ako naman ang magparamdam sayo ng mga ginawa mo sa'kin. magpahinga ka muna at alam kong pagod ka, asahan mong hindi ako mapapagod. ang kapal naman ng mukha ko kung maghahanap pa ako ng iba, hayaan mo akong ibalik yung tiwala sakin ni lolodad at mamita. i'm suffering for what i've done, but it's all my punishment and the greatest lesson that i must learn. sorry for the heartaches, hayaan mo akong punan ang mga pagkukulang ko. it's so easy to talk 'di ba? but i will prove it to you.

all you need to do, is focus on your dreams. set sail mommy, conquer all the seas. i knew it already since day one, i never doubted you.

i love you, Marine Engineer Galicia.

can't wait to be recognized and give you the snappiest salute.

sunod ako, galingan mo!

Learning/Jethro/LettersForMommy.

[seasideretreat]

29th of July, 2023

I don't know how to talk. History teaches me everything: how to play chess, how to write tweets, how to apply myself to serious study - but it doesn't tell me how to talk. Talking is the area of politics, when you think about it. I've never been able to do this. Discuss politics. Some people have elaborate positions on current affairs; I don't. I only have these moments in which I am solitary, reserved, and then there is wisdom to tell me what to do, constant flows of knowledge that I have apparently accrued; but obviously, no collected vision of reality, no deep truths. I must write naturally. That's hard. We see there are philosophies: positions and topics that concern everything, that envelop the world in words and concepts that explain life. But we also see there is nonsense, there is foolishness.

The good life is probably better off not talking. The orators of history were all politicians. It seems the problem is that talking is not solitary. Writing is. Writing is being alone. History also teaches us that: how to be alone. Fools talk to themselves. Fools think. But everybody thinks; everybody talks to themselves. Maybe I don't even want to talk. Oh, talking is such an overrated experience! You know, talking is a lot like being on your phone. Things float by and you just keep on doing it even though it is just more of the same. You know, sometimes you start thinking that your life only makes sense when you keep talking. You know, sometimes I feel like writing is really bad for me, but when you do it with wisdom it can be really good. Yes, wisdom teaches us how to live, but it doesn't teach us how to talk. Talk is part of life, I admit it, but it is not a part of history, and history is the directress of life. Cicero said it.

Oh, how I love to philosophize! You know, some people go to college - who knows why - I mean, they work there, and you can just imagine that they have to because they need people to write towards, they need the applause of the peer system. If you are into history, you don't need a university to give you inspiration, to give you a mission. You know, during the day we really don't have that much to do. Today, even, I just sat in that goddamn chair with my phone until the news came on; and you know what, I really enjoyed watching the news. Of course, the main thing on the news today is that the world is on fire. I guess I knew that for a long time, Greta Thunberg told us and all, but it's a mess, after all, I don't even own a car. Always travelled by train. Fossil fuels are weird any case, it's all so bad. Oh, if only a Greta Thunberg had come along earlier! These are weird times. It turns out while we were all chasing happiness, something was fundamentally wrong with society, and the Earth can't take it. I guess we've always known that, but who is to blame in the last analysis? Isn't it ironic that we look to science to save us, when it is science that causes all these problems? Science tells us to dig for fossil fuels. It's science that created the locomotive, science that created the combustion engine. Oh, we've always had priests looking out for excesses in human morality. We should have listened to them, and preferred a simple life. If the reformation hadn't happened, probably there wouldn't be a climate crisis. The Catholic Church may have insisted we maintained a lifestyle free from technology. Oh man, these times are so fucking weird!

[vomitsunandsorrow]

Beautifully Complex and Utterly Divine

I'm on a train going to Chicago. I'm going to Chicago to work for my old boss. He's paying for travel and I'm sleeping on his couch Saturday to Monday evening. I feel like an adult right now. I go to work 45 hours a week, consistently going in (not one call-off) and I come home to my own home where its JUST ME! And now I'm on a train? by myself? going somewhere I've never been?! I am independent. I am doing this on my own. God, I love it...

I haven't wanted anything to do with anyone (in a love/sex sense) and I think that it's just so lovely, to be honest! I'm focusing on myself, my standards are higher, and I don't have to check in with anyone for anything....this is the freedom I've needed. I believe this shape of loneliness is quintessential for my development as a person. Maybe it is for everyone, but it's never promoted. A lot of our society has this unholy amount of pressure for people my age to "hurry up and pair off!!" and I think that is just a properly ridiculous notion to hold over our heads. Why the pressure? Who made these rules and why do they feel they hold the authority to make such claims? Does it boil down to a simple, yet oh-so-powerful patriarchy we killed ourselves with establishing? Well, okay, we can talk about American society for a sec.

I know people who consistently claim and adhere unwavering to the "proud to be an American" posture, and I can't understand anyone who has kept that thought system into adulthood. Whilst in grade school, even some colleges, I can give that a pass. But, in emerging from that cocoon, we (mankind, humanity, etc.) should be more receptive of a "what if it's not what we've been told it is for our whole lives?" Especially in The Age of Internet where anyone, may it be a six year old in Rhode Island or a QAnon fanatic from Texas, can access that famous World Wide Web. From a basic search engine to popular social media platforms and everything in between, we have that sweet clearance that those before us never had before. We have the opportunity to become BETTER! As people! But before I get myself going on a tangent, let's wrap up.

Alone does not equal lonely. We should all want to be better humans every day. True sense of independence is multifaceted. Love and Take care of yourselves, babes. You deserve it.

-car.e.s.

[time-traveling-fetus]

I've been thinking lately about how I really want to be a creator. I want to be someone has cool and interesting skills that makes things that he's proud of making. Something he can share with the world. And I do have skills, I won't deny myself that. But I don't do anything with those skills because I lack the motivation or focus to initiate and stick with anything.

And I don't feel like the skills that I do have are even that good, and I'm not sure who to blame for that. I went to college and what do I have to show for it, man? Do I blame my college for not teaching me more practical skills? They taught me a shit ton of theory and every instance of practice was a group project, and group projects in schools are ALWAYS done by two people who leave the rest of the group behind. But I can't blame my college for that because there were loads of students that knew how to do all sorts of stuff, which makes sense because otherwise who would do all the group work. I sort of blame myself because I feel like maybe if I had more motivation I would have done personal projects that would have encouraged me to learn on my own time. I still blame my college though.

The other day my dad asked me if I could make an app because his friend had an idea. And the idea would have involved some hard programming problem that I don't know how to approach but that's beside the point because I don't know to do an app at all! I don't know the basics! I never had a class that taught that. What do I know? I can make a command terminal program. Text input, text output. No GUI because nobody taught me how to do that. Basically useless. I learned how to exploit software vulnerabilities (for cyber sec purposes) but only in a highly controlled environment. I can remember multithreading locks in the same way one might remember the words in a book from a dream they had when they were seven. Idek if that would be useful because most people use the locks provided to them in a library

I can also use the Unity game engine, which is the closest I was taught to being taught a practical skill, but to be clear that class had ONE lecture and the TA didn't even finish. I learned everything else by watching tutorials on youtube. I wanted to be a game dev when I first started college but I gave up on it. Saying you want to be a game developer as a CSC major is like saying you want to be rock star. I felt a bit ridiculous for wanting it. I got frustrated with my groups' lackluster work and lost my passion for it too. I don't really have a lot of things I'm passionate about, much less ones that can make money. Plus I've learned how terrible the games industry is and I wonder if it was a good idea to begin with. So I'm back to square one with not knowing where the fuck I want to go in life.

My dad keeps asking me what I want to do specifically and I have no idea how to answer that. And he just sighs like he's frustrated or disappointed in me. Am I supposed to feel bad for being aimless in life, having no purpose? Am I supposed to have some sort of grand direction in life by the age of 22? Even if we think the answer is "no" I feel like shit anyway. I'll take what's available to me. I guess.

I really feel like I have no real agency over my life. Not that agency is unattainable, but it's more like I just wouldn't know what to do with it. I've felt this way for a long time. I'm just following a pre-made set of steps and going through the motions. The first time I had a major decision in my life was my college. I chose my college by basically shrugging and saying "I have no idea if this is good, but my sister went here." I had no real reason for choosing it. I chose my major on a whim. I didn't have any grand dreams about what I wanted to do; the whole game dev thing sorta came up a little later. I'm being released onto the world as a Capable Adult and have no idea what to do with that. I don't even have the motivation to get off my ass and do something, anything. I'm trying to be content with just existing right now (which, to my credit, I'm doing rather well compared to two years ago).

I just feel so incapable, inadequate, aimless, useless

[depressedmodernman]

The Trauma of Gen X....

So I learned in another episode of Overlord yelling "why can't you be more supportive?" that my yearning to do things I'm "supposed" to do comes more from being GenX than anything else. It makes sense. The boomers conditioned their kids to do anything to meet the needs of the parents. I remember cooking my own dinner as a teenager, working nearly full-time in high school just to have lunch money, and pretty much living my own life at least by 16, if not parts of it sooner. So as I've grown-up I always did things I thought I was supposed to do. Here are some examples:

I thought I was supposed to go to college and get a degree for a job. I starting with thinking I was supposed to go into engineering since my dad recommended it would have great pay. I ended up dropping out from not doing well. I eventually went back to college for biology with the intent of going to medical school. I switched to dental school because my girlfriend at the time had a father in dentistry, so it felt like I should do that. Eventually I got rejected from dentistry and got into IT work. After a long road of figuring out where I belonged in IT I found a company and job I love, but it went with a wasted college degree.

Now it comes to marriage. I met a nice Jewish girl and proposed within a year of dating. I'm not sure why. I guess, once again, it was what I was "supposed" to do. Especially since the marriage hints came heavily from the girlfriend and her mother.

Fast forward to kids and it turns out I'm shooting blanks. What I didn't realize at the time is that a higher power was telling me I shouldn't have kids. So we adopted. And while my son brought joy to my wife, it was pretty miserable for me. It definitely is not my son's fault and I feel guilty, but I had kids because it felt like it was "supposed" to happen. I never thought it was only an option.

Then it came to my wife and her mother wanting a second child. I originally said no because we didn't have much money and honestly, my son was already a major pain in the ass (and I'm being objective - his personality, ADHD, sensory issues and resistance behavior puts him in the special needs category). But eventually I gave in because it seemed like having a sibling is what's supposed to happen.

So then we had a little girl and as I feared, it was a rough time. Initially it was more because my son was a challenge and having another baby made it tougher to deal with him. But then as she grew up she started to have more outbursts in life. Turns out she's dyslexic as well as autistic. So now it's special needs child #2. As a person that is likely autistic as well, the emotional needs of these children goes well beyond my natural capabilities.

Then let's get to the work/life balance. After our second child I worked full-time, travelled, focused on my career to make a good life and my wife stayed home with the kids. Unfortunately, eventually my wife started going crazy and wanted to start her own psychotherapy practice as she's a social worker. I felt I should support her since it was what I was supposed to do, despite now having to take on a greater emotional burden of parenting which I'm definitely not equipped for. This has been the shift that's the hardest since I'm still the primary bread-winner with all the benefits, yet can't focus on my career to improve our lives.

I'm now going to skip through the COVID years, but needless to say it's been a rough few years and I'm still doing the shit I'm supposed to do, especially since the Overlord criticizes every parenting thing I do, there's no sex, work sucks, and my kids do nothing but emotionally drain me. Oh yeah, and I'm supposed to be living my authentic autistic life, but so far doing that just causes more problems since I say and do things that can be hurtful, despite not trying to hurt anyone and just be my honest self. I found out the guidance from "Unmasking Autism" is life bullshit and makes everything worse.

Jesus - when am I supposed to off myself because in all honesty, that's about the one option I've got left in this world. That, or just drink more vodka....