#anyways sorry rant over the university system is....something when it's not *just* a class for a student.

[eorzeashan]

man wtf, wtf. Goodwill Hunting. I didn't expect to get slapped in the face with all the glaring issues I'd ever experienced in college but. wow. I fucking cried. the emotional gaps between people from different economic backgrounds, different chances at economic and academic success....when you're a student who also faced that daunting bracket of having your college path be literal life and death for what comes after and always having to be adjacent to people where this is what they've lived in their whole lives, and then how different that is next to those who can't have that chance ever and the sheer uncertainty and fear of it. the trauma that comes from a background of abuse and how it confuses others from the outside who can't understand why you'd pass up the chance for something better from their view economically, academically, emotionally. it hurt so much.

[bytheangell]

Give It a Chance

(Read on AO3) Alec is no stranger to working out. That isn’t why he’s cringing as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and slips his feet into socks and sneakers at the crack of dawn on a Monday morning. He’s questioning why he ever agreed to do this because he isn’t on his way to an actual workout: he’s on his way to Zumba.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” he grumbles at Isabelle, shuffling into the living room of the apartment they share with Jace. Jace, who is sleeping peacefully because he somehow managed to not get himself subjected to their sister’s guilt-trip after Clary cancels at the last minute due to some rescheduled meeting with a potential buyer from out of town. Who even wants to look at art before 9 am?!

“I don’t want to go alone and you’re already awake! Plus you love to work out.”

“I do. And if we were going to work out, I’d be ecstatic. Instead, we’re going to… I don’t even know what to call it, because it isn’t even dancing. Which I guess is good, since I hate dancing. But it isn’t working out, either.”

“You’re only saying that because you’ve never tried it before. Just wait.” Izzy grabs her water bottle off of the kitchen counter, filling it as she talks. “Magnus’ class is the most difficult class to get into in the city. It wouldn’t be this popular if it wasn’t amazing, just give it a chance.”

“It’s a fad. And if it’s so popular you should’ve been able to give this spot away to anyone. The way you talk about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some Zumba Black Market you could’ve auctioned it off on.” He follows suit, filling his own water bottle before turning back to his sister. “Let’s just get this over with.”

---

They get there early. Much earlier than Alec thinks should be necessary, but it ends up not being early enough - there’s already a line at the door and the class doesn’t even start for another 20 minutes. With pre-signed up spots, though Izzy assures him that they still want to be early enough to not get stuck in the back corner. Alec disagrees and is seriously considering going that way when the doors open anyway.

“This is ridiculous,” he starts but stops when his almost-rant earns him an elbow to the side from Izzy.

“Just shush until it’s over. Then if you still think it doesn’t live up to the hype you can bash it as much as you want.”

There’s something in the way her eyes seem to twinkle with the offer, like she knows something he doesn’t, gives him a moment of pause. “Promise?” “Promise.”

That’s a deal Alec can stick to. A few minutes of silent judgment in return for what he’s certain he can stretch into hours of commentary later.

“Deal.” Alec leans back against the wall while they wait, arms crossed over his chest. He sees a few other guys in the line, one or two of them looking about as thrilled as he is to be there, but for the most part there’s an eager chatter among the growing crowd waiting for the doors to open. Maybe he is missing something here…

Izzy’s already striking up a conversation with the girl in front of her and Alec allows himself to zone out until the doors swing open and Izzy tugs on his t-shirt to get his attention when the line starts to file into the large group classroom.

And oh.

Oh.

“Sorry about the delay, I was having some trouble with the sound system but we should be all set!” The apology comes from a man in tight black… leggings? Workout tights? Alec isn’t positive about what they are because he’s only ever seen guys working out in shorts or sweatpants around his usual gym, but he certainly isn’t complaining. They have neon orange accents that match the tank-top he’s wearing, which is ripped for style down the sides. It’s a racerback that shows off some impressive arm and shoulder muscles, and--

“I can see you won’t have any problem watching the instructor, at least.”

Izzy’s voice is light with barely-concealed amusement, a smirk spread wide on her features.

“What?” Alec asks, half to stall and half because he wasn’t entirely paying attention to what his sister was actually saying, though the tone and the look on her face filled in the blanks easily enough.

“Try not to trip over your jaw on the floor on the way in,” she teases, having the good grace to lower her voice as they get closer to the door, which also brings them closer to the gorgeous man standing next to it. He’s taking the time to welcome each person who comes in, greeting some by name, others with casual nods.

Alec is trying to pick up speed through the doorway to avoid any direct interaction but he isn’t fast enough.

“I haven’t seen you two around before,” the instructor - Magnus, Alec remembers his sister mentioning- says, glancing from Izzy to Alec. “I’m certain I’d remember if you were.”

“This is our first class,” Izzy confirms. “I’m sure you know how difficult it is to get into.”

“I’m very glad you could make it. You and your...?” Magnus trails off very clearly fishing for information. Alec, who is still trying very intently to focus on anything other than the way the light catches Magnus’ eyes and gives them hints of gold among the brown, misses the cue entirely.

“Brother,” Izzy is quick to supply. “Alec. And I’m Isabelle.”

“Brother…” Magnus repeats softly, eyes falling on Alec but not dwelling too long, aware of the rest of the line behind the siblings. “Right. Well, Alec and Isabelle, I’d love to hear what you think after the class. Grab a spot and I’ll see you in there.”

“Thanks,” Izzy says, and Alec realizes he hasn’t said anything the entire exchange, as he pushes slightly past Isabelle to go in first.

Once they’re inside he waits for her to pick their spot, knowing better than to think he’s getting away with hiding in the back corner he instinctively wants to gravitate towards.

“Anywhere but the very front,” he tells her the moment her eyes drift towards that half of the room.

“Oh, so you can speak. I was starting to wonder if you’d gone mute back there.” He can hear the smile behind her words even as she walks away from him towards the right-middle of the room.

“I was just keeping quiet like I promised. Unless you wanted me to tell Magnus all about how I’m only here because you forced me to come, and don’t actually care how popular his class is?”

“Uh-huh,” Izzy says, clearly unconvinced, but doesn’t have time to harp on it when the last of the line files in and Magnus makes his way to the front of the room adjusting the headset that indents the top of his hair.

“Testing, testing.” His voice is too soft to be heard over the music that starts up, an uptempo beat that’s energetic but not too fast for a good warm-up. Magnus fidgets with the volume for a few more seconds before striking the perfect balance. “There we go. Alright everybody, grab your spots and make sure you have enough space to move!”

Izzy moves a few steps forward but keeps them near the middle of the room, and off to the side. “You’re lucky I know how annoying it would be for you to stand in the middle and block everyone’s line of sight,” she tells him. “Otherwise I’d drag us right behind Magnus.”

Alec rolls his eyes but silently says a prayer to the genetics that graced him with his impressive height.

He’s about to say something heavily laced in sarcasm when Magnus’ voice drowns out any clever comeback he might have.

“Welcome! Y’all ready? We’re going to have a lot of fun with this one, right?”

Several people give a cheer, a few others clap, and Alec is at a loss to find who is this enthusiastic this early in the morning about a dance class.

Perhaps he would’ve cheered if he anticipated the show he’s about to get.

Magnus moves in a way that makes it very clear that he has a dancing background of some sort. The instructions start off easy enough to follow, but even when he misses a verbal cue it isn’t as if Alec has any issue with keeping a studious gaze on the instructor.

When Magnus starts a song with heavy salsa influences, all hips and fluid arm movements, Alec isn’t sure if he’s being rewarded or cursed by the universe.

Alec has to admit that this is a lot more difficult than it looks. It still isn’t his first, or second, or anywhere near his top choices for a workout, but there’s a sheen of sweat on his face by the 4th or 5th song... which is probably because he’s only just starting to follow actively along without getting lost in the left-and-rights. Up until now, he’s been tripping over his own feet too often to get into any consistent flow.

Magnus facing them now, somehow managing to mirror the steps for them to follow with impressive ease even facing this way. His eyes scan the group, giving tips here and there to people he sees struggling and cracking a few jokes with people who Alec can only assume are regulars.

“See, Thea, I told you you’d get that grapevine down after a few tries,” he says before his eyes fall on Alec.

And Alec, foolish enough to make eye contact, loses all train of thought and forgets to step right with everyone else, leaving the poor girl to his left nearly colliding into him. Magnus’ light chuckle of amusement is barely audible over the thump of the bass in the song and Alec is glad the red on his face could be attributed to the exercise and not the blush it definitely is as he scrambles to the side, ignoring the steps entirely.

With the extra eyes on him, Alec returns all his focus to the movements, forcing his eyes to look back down at Magnus’ feet instead of his face. He still can’t seem to get his own feet to remember which steps forward first, starting off backwards almost every time and eventually stopping entirely in flustered frustration.

“Don’t worry so much about doing it perfectly! First times with the routines are always a rough run-through, just keep going until there’s a good spot to fix it, like this.” Alec watches as Magnus intentionally gets off-step, going left instead of right. And then, at the start of another repetition, does a small hop to switch feet in a half-step to get back onto the right one. Alec nods to himself and waits for another rotation to do the same, looking far too pleased with himself when it works and he’s back on step.

When Alec looks up Magnus is grinning, too, and nods at him with a smile before turning his attention back to the room at large.

The rest of the class passes by much too fast now that he’s found a rhythm and is, though he’ll never admit it to Isabelle, actually starting to enjoy himself, and when the cooldown comes he’s surprised at how disappointed he feels.

“Great class, everyone! See you back here Friday!” Magnus says, cutting the stereo off. The sudden lack of music is jarring but the room quickly dissolves into chatter to fill the silence.

“So?” Izzy asks him before taking a long drink from her water bottle. “And don’t think you can lie to me - I saw you having fun.” “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be,” Alec admits grudgingly, wiping at the sweat about to drip into his eyes with a corner of his t-shirt.

A sudden voice behind him makes him jump.

“What a ringing endorsement.” Alec recognizes the voice immediately - how could he not, after hearing it for the past hour straight. “Perhaps after the next class I can reach ‘moderately tolerable’ status.”

Alec grimaces. “I-”

“Perhaps you could give me a few pointers on what could bring up my rating. Maybe… over coffee?” Magnus continues, not giving a chance for Alec to backtrack his original statement.

Alec takes a second to make sure he heard that right.

“Coffee?” Alec repeats, stalling because he’s honestly caught too off-guard to answer.

“Or smoothies, or proper drinks. It’s only 10 am but I don’t judge, it’s 5 o’clock somewhere,” Magnus adds with a wink.

Yet another comment Alec isn’t expecting. “You mean right now? Like this?” These aren’t even Alec’s best sweatpants, ignoring the fact that they’re sweatpants in the first place, and the sides of his hair stick to the side of his face from sweat.

“Are you saying there’s something wrong with the way I look?” Magnus asks.

The panic that crosses Alec’s face has Izzy laughing beside him. Magnus looks offended - but it’s exaggerated enough that Alec thinks he’s faking it just to be dramatic. Right?

“You look great,” Alec manages. “I, on the other hand…”

“Also look great,” Magnus supplies, not missing a beat. “Is that a yes?”

Alec hesitates, but a not-so-subtle nudge from Izzy’s elbow into the small of his back has him nodding.

“Yes. Yeah, sure. Coffee sounds great.”

“Coffee it is. Let me just wrap up here and I’ll meet you outside. I know a wonderful shop just a couple blocks down.

The second Magnus walks away Isabelle’s in front of him, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“While I’m thrilled you have a date, if you actually tell him what you hate and he changes his classes, I will murder you,” she says pointedly.

“You’re in luck,” Alec says. “I didn’t actually hate any of it. It was really fun.”

“I knew it!” Isabelle nearly shouts, and Alec motions for her to quiet down when a few eyes, Magnus’ included, turn their way at her exclamation.

“Ready to go, Alec?” Magnus asks, coming up beside them. “Sorry for stealing your brother away,” he adds. “I’m not interrupting any plans am I?”

“None at all,” Isabelle is quick to reassure him. “Please, steal away. In fact, you’re more than welcome to keep him.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “Iz, please,” he half-whines. It’s just coffee, just an impulsive date. Magnus doesn’t even know him. In fact, if they make it through a whole cup of coffee without Alec boring him to death he’ll consider it a win.

“I guess we’ll have to see how amenable Alec is to being kept,” Magnus says, and Alec wonders how he’s that smooth, just like, all of the time.

As it turns out, after two cups of coffee, then lunch, then an afternoon walking around the park and talking and dinner after realizing how late it was, Alec is very amenable to being kept.

[everydayanth]

Academic Elitism: an institutional issue

Sorry for being so rant-y lately, but the elitism of university has been a problem for me from the exact moment I accepted my scholarship with a signature and a handshake in high school. (The scholarship was later revoked due to state up-fuckery, but that’s another story, and I was already in too deep by the time they told me).

My parent’s house was only an hour north, my younger sister had already claimed my room, but I was excited. I was in the furthest dorm building, because that’s where the scholarship kids went, it was like a poor kid diversity hall, every few doors was someone from a completely different background, but we were all poor except our Swedish RA, and there was an odd pride in that. We all had various scholarships: robotics, dance team, nerds like me, etc. (not the football or hockey athletes though, they had their own dorm next to the library for... reasons, lol).

But being the last hall, it wasn’t actually full, most of us had entire rooms to ourselves, often whole suites; our hall was co-ed, but rooms were only occupied at every-other, staggered down the corridor. Only the front two halls were used, the back two closed off for construction or codes or something. We had to hike up the hill for dining halls, which was fine until snowdays that shut the whole campus down (and I mean west Michigan ones, with 4+ feet of powder and ice underneath). I had an old computer my dad got me for graduation and I didn’t know it was old until my peers started calling it a dinosaur. I had to use the library computers to write and print papers, and most places I went, I ran into the other scholarship kids. We didn’t talk much, just a head bob here and there, awareness at our similarities and an annoyed spite at being thrown together this way. It was lonely for everyone.

I had a purple flip phone I’d gotten only that calendar year (2009) and was still learning to text with (abbreviations? instant messaging? what?). My roommate had come down from Alaska to live near her dad, we’d talked in the summer, but I never saw her. I moved my things in and her stuff was on her side, I texted her about going to turn in paperwork and when I came back, there was a note on my bed and all her things were gone, she couldn’t do it, had never been away from home for even a night. She left a few mismatched socks and a bag of junk pens that I resented for years. 

Social media was mostly a way to talk to people across campus and exchange homework and party times/locations. We posted over-edited photos of our food and still jogged with our mp3 players and ipods. But within two years, I had to trade in my computer three times and upgrade to a smartphone to keep up with the expectations of communication. Professors would cancel classes by emails an hour out, and if I was on campus, I simply didn’t get the message, running between classes with 19 credit hours and three jobs. Work would call in or cancel my appointments (tutoring) and I needed to be able to communicate at the rate of my peers, so though it wasn’t something we could easily afford, my parents let me get the smartphone and my dad helped me find computers that could keep up with writing papers and researching without having to go to the lab, which saved so much time. 

There was little understanding for my suffering. I didn’t have a car, I had to call my parents and organize a time to get home or take the train which was more expensive than waiting around on an empty campus. They were often things that even the wealthiest students had to deal with, but there were so much more of them for us, more stress, more problems, more solutions, more consequences, and in some ways, more determination.

I spent plenty of breaks holed up in my room, but when the swine flu/H1N1 outbreak happened, guess where they quarantined students?

In our hall. 

Not the back one that was closed. In the room attached to my suite. 

After half a semester alone, suddenly strangers shared my bathroom. I never saw them, I would just hear the formidable click of the bathroom lock followed by the shower. A week later I got a blue half-sheet note in my mailbox about quarantines. The other kids were as pissed off, as we watched kids escorted in with blue masks and were told to just get cleaning wipes from the front desk –they ran out in a week. 

We were the recyclable students, brought in to trade scholarships for university grade averages. Many of my friends were struggling with scholarship qualifications and gpas (which only encouraged my continual obsessive perfectionism and involvement). 

We were expendable. 

I didn’t understand the elitism then, or I did, but I’d twisted it in my head from years tossed between private and public schools. I was an invader, I wasn’t supposed to be there, but I wanted to be. I understood that I didn’t deserve it, that I had to work harder to stay. I completed Master’s coursework for my Bachelor’s degree, finishing two BA programs (anthropology and English: creative writing) and 2 minor programs in philosophy and world lit, lead several campus groups and volunteered with honor’s societies. I spent hours on campus every day, running home just to go to one job or the other. I slept about four hours a night and I still romanticize it because I loved it. And I was good at it. It was a closed system, easy to infiltrate, easy to watch and observe and follow, to feel protected from the world, but there were always ways that I came up short. 

I didn’t have leggings or Northface fleeces or Ugg boots or name brand anything (except a pair of converse I got in 8th grade from my Babcia). I had old high school sweats and soccer shirts, hand-me-down clothes from sisters and cousins that mix-matched a style I thought was unique but I now understand screamed I don’t really belong here. Example: I went to propose an independent study to a professor I really admired and I panicked about what to wear. I still cringe at the memory, gahhhhhh, but I pulled on what I thought was a decent dress because it had no rips or stains or tears and though I’d picked it up from a clearance rack, it was the newest thing and therefore the best. But in retrospect, it was definitely a “party” dress, I grabbed a sweater, hoop earrings that had always been beautiful in my neighborhood, and heels I never wore otherwise, and presented my idea. This old professor was just like “um...did you dress up for me?” Clearly spooked by red flags and I realized my mistake. Saved by quick thinking I clarified “no, I have a presentation later,” and being a familiar face in the social sciences department, I let him assume I was dressed up as something. I just went in my sweats and t-shirts after that, got a haircut that tamed the wavy frizz and learned the importance of muted tones, cardigans, and flats.

I made a lot of interesting friends in the process, people who also stuck out from the American Academic culture: exchange students, older (non-traditional) students, rebels, and other poor kids. But that also meant that we all evolved during our time there, so friendship was quick and fleeting as we adapted or dropped out or remained oblivious, lost in our studies and dreams of changing the world or our lives. 

I had no idea how to approach the dining halls because I could only afford the bronze plan that was included with my room+board scholarship. I could enter the hall ten times per week, with four included passes to the after-hours carry-out (this was an upgrade from the free high school lunch I was coming from). I met other kids on this plan and their dorm rooms had fridges and microwaves and shelves of ramen and mac’n’cheese. Mine was sparse, my fridge had jugs of water from the filtered tap in the common room, and though it had a shared kitchenette, it always smelled bad or was being used and the nearest grocery store was Meijers which was a 15-20 minute drive from campus. I used so much energy dividing up my meals and figuring out how to sneak food from the hall for later or just learn to not eat, which is another story involving malnutrition, broken bones, and the American Healthcare System.

We like to summarize the college experience with fond struggles. I went back to my old high school to watch my younger sisters’ marching band competition that first year (it’s MI, and they were good). My old art teacher (not much older than we were but she felt so much older at the time, also her maiden name was Erickson and so was her fiance’s so she didn’t “change” her name and that blows my mind to this day), anyway, she stopped me to ask how school was going, and I was not prepared to be recognized in anyway and stammered out something like “oh, yeah, stressful. Fun, cool, yeah,” like the eloquent well-educated student I was. And she said, “oh, I loved it, don’t you love it? Everything’s so charming, and being poor? Oh man, it’s hard for a while, but it’s so good to go through.” 

I was dumbfounded at her reference to poverty as a thing to go through when you’re a student. I again had to remember that I was infiltrating places where people weren’t just marginally more well-off than I was, but far beyond, in a place where they couldn’t comprehend an alternative, couldn’t conceive of surviving poverty, of not having a reliable place to fall if you mess up, parents who couldn’t support you if things went wrong, who couldn’t save you from having to drop out if scholarships were canceled because the money just wasn’t there.

Talking with my parents never worked, and I recently found this video by The Financial Diet about Boomer shame in being poor, where many Millennials were united by it and it was #relatable. But all this is to say that there are so many layers and ways we develop in higher education that are often overlooked by the romantic nostalgia of the elite expectation. What we demand from education vs. what it offers us in return is rarely equal for students coming from poverty, and it starts with that first sacrifice of looking at money and deciding it has to be worth it to do something bigger, and that education is a necessary piece of that goal.

Now I live near Brown University, I’ve been to Harvard when we lived in Boston and recently took a trip to Yale with bold expectations. I am friends with several people who work at these places and I hear the same things: so many students are in a place where their obsessions are considered more important than the larger world, an argument that Shakespeare is a woman is more important to prove than the greater issues of sexism in society as a whole, while others are trained to look at data and the world as a pocketable fact-book, going to conferences and  week-long summits and then off to D.C. to make important decisions about places they’ve never been to, for people they’ve never met, about problems they’ve never experienced.  

It’s not new. It’s not romantic. It’s not nostalgic. It’s just sick. 

I was horrified at New Haven. I have read so many social science reports and papers and experiments and academic bullshit that has come from professors at Yale with a big badge of ivy-league validation. So much of this research was focused on homelessness and culture clash and socio-economics in America, as that was my “dissertation” that got me discounted master’s classes for my BA in Anthropology. Anyway, my point was that I thought this noble, proud university that put out so much research was going to be situated in something of a utopia, where their research is put into practice. Obviously, I was wrong, but I didn’t expect how wrong. (I had also started reading Leigh Bardugo’s Ninth House, so... there’s another thing).

My observations were validated by employees of ivy-league schools, who have watched over the past 2 decades as they grow more and more reclusive, hiding away from the public except through a few, probably well-intentioned, outstretched hands that do little to contribute to the world outside the university itself. These ivory towers are built by poaching: environments, observations, resources, research, and yeah, even students.

I love academia. I will sit in a library for hours just pulling down tomes (and putting them back in their proper locations like a dork) and drawing connections just for fun. But right now, I’m a bit bitter and spiteful and angry. 

When something like Coronavirus sneaks up on us, we have a tendency to throw the most expendable people under the bus as quickly as we can, and all I can think about is my shadow of a suite-mate sneezing and coughing with swine flu for two weeks, at how I refused to use my own bathroom and listened to my hall-mates’ advice about showering at the rec center a mile away as we all collectively locked our bathroom doors and were left there by the university to get sick without insurance to help with any foreseeable costs.

It’s not the same now, they’ve rebuilt the entire section of the campus, it’s odd to see it, I wonder where they put the expendable kids. Or maybe they don’t accept them anymore. I’ve worked in college admissions since then, and it is a scary industry of politics and preference and hidden quotas and image-agendas. Not all schools are industry monsters, but when you’re expendable, they sure do feel like it, whether you graduate summa cum laude with two degrees, six awards, and five tasseled ropes around your neck or not. 

I wish I had a positive message. I wish I was in a place to help people who feel expendable or like they can’t keep up with communications because of technology or language or network or environment. But I don’t have much right now. For all its posturing and linear progression, academia needs to create profit. All I can do is yell about this existing.

If you are feeling expandable in university, I can tell you you’re not alone. I can let you rant about all the small ways your peers don’t get it, whether its an accent they shit on or ceremonies you don’t have the right clothes for or textbooks you share with a friend to cut costs but then they hoard them. I can relate to you about guilt and that sneaking panic that fills you with anxiety at night as you question yourself and wonder if it’s worth it at all, if it’s necessary, if it’s okay to be expendable to follow something that feels bigger. I can validate your doubt and tell you that you’re not actually expendable, you’re a bridge. 

I’m sorry it still works like this. I wish we figured out how to change it by now, I wish I had secret shortcuts to tell you about, that there was more accountability or hope, but I’m not seeing it lately. I hope you do. <3

[krizaland]

Imagine- Yandere!Dib (or just stalker!dib) x reader x Zim Where the reader recognizes dibs real creepy behavior and ends up going to Zim zam their friendo/crush for comfort and/or protection. And then that freinddhip becomes something more? Sorry for the long thing

Don’t be sorry! I love your idea! I kinda got carried away so there’s gonna be more than one chapter!

Be warned: Yanderes are creepy fucks. This fic will contain stalking, and obsessive behaviors.

Ever since you were little, you always were a little too nice. Anytime you saw someone in trouble, you always had the urge to help them no matter what.

Usually, most people would except your help and you would walk away feeling like you’ve done the right thing.

You never once regretted helping someone in need.

That is until Dib came along.

It all started in Elementary Skool. Dib was being picked on by a gaggle of bullies.

They dangled his favorite camera in front of his face while they pelted him with insult after insult.

Just hearing the sounds of Dib’s pained cries made your heart ache.

You remember pushing the bullies away and saving the camera.

The moment you handed the camera back to Dib, you noticed an unnerving look behind his glasses.

At first you brushed it off and tried to continue on with your day.

However, Dib insisted that you stay and talk with him.  You didn’t think much of it so you decided to humor him.

That was your biggest mistake.

The next thing you were bombarded with a flurry of conspiracy theories and accusations of random students being bigfeets and vampires in disguise.

Needless to say, you were pretty creeped out and decided to avoid him from that day fourth.

However, your attempts were all in vain.

No matter where you went, Dib would always be there, ready to drown you in another wave of paranormal nonsense.

Things only got worse as you got older.

Dib’s desire for your friendship had mutated into something far far worse.

To say he had a crush on you was a major understatement!

He would always follow you around and try to get your attention.

Whenever you needed something, Dib would miraculously have it for you the next day.

However, you knew that if you accepted the ‘gift’ you’d be subjected to yet another paranormal rant.

So you decided to politely decline his gifts, no matter how bad you needed the item in question.

Dib seemed to give up on you after he figured out you weren’t interested in his ‘gifts’.

Or so you thought.

You soon found your locker flooded countless love notes and slabs of heart shaped meat.

Each note was creepier than the last and you couldn’t get the stench of rotting meat out of your locker no matter how much you cleaned it.

You then started to notice cameras following you wherever you went.

At first you assumed it was just part of the Skool’s security system. After all, you’ve heard rumors that the Skool tends to watch students like hawks to make sure they don’t cheat on exams.

However, it didn’t take long for you to start noticing the same cameras peeking outside of your window.

Needless to say, you decided it was best to keep your blinds shut from that point on.

Of course, closing your blinds wasn’t enough to stop the creepy coincidences happening wherever you went.

Not by a long shot.

You soon found some of your underwear and dirty socks had mysteriously vanished.

The trashcans outside your house always rustled throughout the night. Only to be found tipped over by morning.

Things only got creepier at Skool.

You would always feel someone breathing heavily down your back whenever you talked to another student.

You would turn around but no one would be there.

To make matters worse, the next day, the student you had talked to would go missing.

Whenever the class needed to work in pairs, Dib would somehow always end up being your partner.

You always dreaded being paired with Dib for when he was’t spewing his usual brand of paranormal nonsense, he would often spend his time showering you with the creepiest compliments imaginable.

Things got even worse when the Skool Dance rolled around.

Dib wasted no time and sauntered up to you.

“Hey, Y/N! Glad I caught you! I was wondering if you had a date to the dance yet?”

You could see the madness oozing from his amber eyes with every word he spoke.

“Oh! Well I’m actually not going to the dance.” You admitted as you rubbed the back of your head.

“Oh? Why not?” Dib asked as he drew closer.

“Because I have a lot of homework to do.” You knew that wasn’t too far from the truth. You did have a lot of homework but that wasn’t the main reason.

“That’s why? You know, I could help out with that, if you want.” Dib offered, his eyes continued to stare into your soul.

“No. No that’s ok! I’d prefer to do it all myself. A-Anyway, I gotta get going! I gotta get to class and stuff so bye!”

And with that, you ran as fast as your legs could take you.

A creepy smile spread across Dib’s face as he watched you escape.

“Just you wait, Y/N, you’ll be mine someday…Then we’ll be together forever.”  

A small giggle escaped his throat. The giggle quickly grew and grew until Dib erupted into full on maniacal laughter.

The next day, your savior had arrived.

Standing next to Ms.Bitters was the cutest boy you had ever seen!

He may have had lime green skin but you couldn’t care less. After all you’ve seen way weirder kids walk through the door before.

“Class, I would like to introduce the newest, hopeless appendage to the student body. His name is Zim” Ms. Bitters grumbled “Zim, if you’ve got something to say, say it now because after this moment, I don’t want to hear another sound from you!”

Zim was taken aback by Ms. Bitters’s outburst but he quickly regained his composure.

“Hello, friends. I am a perfectly normal human-worm baby. You have nothing, absolutely nothing to fear from me. Just pay no attention to me and we’ll get along just fine.”

You struggled to stifle a giggle as Zim spoke. He sure did have a way with words.

Dib’s mouth was agape as he pointed at Zim. His body shook with anticipation as his crazed mind searched for words to shout.

“Take your seat now Zim!” Ms. Bitters snapped as she slithered back to her desk.

Zim cheerfully plopped down into the seat next to yours, only adding to Dib’s madness.

“Today’s lecture is about outer space and about how it will EVENTUALLY IMPLODE IN ON ITSELF!” Ms Bitters sneered.

Zim immediately hopped up onto his desk and waved his arms around.

“Yes, Zim?”

“In the event of say, a full scale alien invasion, how prepared do you think this planet’s defenses would be? Tell me.” Zim’s voice quivered as he sat back down.

“As I was saying, the universe is just doomed…doomed..dooooomed.” Ms Bitters crooned as bugs crawled around her face.

“Ok, am I the only one here who sees the alien sitting in class?” Dib asked as he managed to regain his composure.

The other students looked all around the room while your buried your face in your textbook.

You felt your stomach churn as you knew that Dib would harass you about Zim at lunchtime.

“There!” Dib snapped as he snapped a finger in Zim’s direction. “Right there!”

A horrified expression spread across Zim’s face as pink sweat dripped down his face.

“That is no kid! He’s an alien An alien! One of the monsters I’ve been talking about! He’s here to conquer Earth-”

“Oh not this again. You’re crazy.” Zita huffed as she folded her arms.

“What about his horrible green head?!-”

“INSOLENT FOOL-BOY! It’s a skin condition.” Zim interjected.

“And he’s got no ears! Is that part of your skin condition?! Huh?! No ears?!” Dib whined as he gestured to his own ears.

“Yes.” Zim replied as he somberly looked down at his desk.

“Man, Dib! You think that just because someone looks different you can call them an alien?” one student asked.

“I guess Old Kid is an alien too, huh?” Another added.

“How’s it going?” Old Kid chirped with a wave.

Dib sighed and got up out of his seat.  He scribbled away on the chalkboard before pulling out a metal pointer.

“Ok, this is us,” Dib pointed to a drawing of a naked human man. “And over here, this is Zim!” Dib pointed to a crude drawing of an alien.

“See the difference? Anyone? Anyone? Questions?”

One student raised his hand and grumbled.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with you? All you talk about is seeing aliens and ghosts and seeing bigfoot in your garage.”

“He was using the belt sander. Y/N! Back me up here! I know you can tell the difference!” Dib pleaded as he turned to face you.

Sure enough, everyone’s eyes were on you as you sunk into your seat.

You opened your mouth to speak but Zim spoke first.

“Oh Puh-lease! He’s always saying stuff! I remember that one time Mhm-Hmm.”

“Hey! You just got here!” Dib snapped as he zipped up to Dib’s desk, “Don’t let him trick you! I know what I’m talking about! And there it is. Sitting. Right. There.”

“Well he does look pretty weird.” Said one student.

“Yeah! And he is sitting.” Added another.

“You see? Actual proof that all of the things I’ve been saying are actually right!” A crazed grin spread across Dib’s face as he spoke.

You looked over and saw poor Zim sweating bullets. You knew all too well what it felt like to be humiliated by Dib.

You decided you had to do something. And fast.

“Finally a way to prove that I’m…That I’m..”

“That I’m crazy.” You mumbled from behind your textbook.

“Ok, now that makes sense.” Zita admitted as she sat back down.

“Man, we almost believed him.” Another student added.

Dib let out a growl as he shot Zim a fiery glare. Zim returned the glare in kind and prepared for a fight.

“Doomed…Doomed…Doomed…Ok go to lunch now!” Ms. Bitters commanded.

And with that, everyone flied out of the classroom and headed for the lunchroom.

Next

[koiandjelly]

So Fila’s actual past isn’t very detailed, because she’s not a main OC, and I haven’t spent a ton of time actually thinking about her as a character lol. 98% of my Creativity goes to my original content characters, cuz someday when I finish actually crafting my worlds, I’m gonna write a book. I’m aiming for the lofty goals of making a full, fleshed out, intricate— just fuckin’... a whole ass Multiverse system comparable to the Lore content of Tolkien’s works, or The Elder Scrolls— gah fuck y’know what, I’m changing this post from being about my Fantasy Life OC to being about my creation baby, the effort of about 6 years (I am 20 years old, and although I didn’t know it at the time I started, I was 14 when I made the shitty Fire Emblem Manakete rip-off race that I’m gonna actually now talk about, because holy fuck this ain’t gonna fit in a parenthesis “btw have some info” bubble)

A’ight so I have a hard time keeping track of time, especially in a large scale across years. Apparently it’s related to being severely depressed without medication (communication error on my part, my parents are very lovely and helped me ASAP when I spilled the beans) while also having moderate to severe ADD. So, ya know, keep in mind that I was yet another terribly depressed 8th grader when I talk about my creation’s early days. I wouldn’t experience that time of my life for any sort of payment ever. It was goddamn miserable, because when I was midway through the age of 14, not only did the aforementioned depression spring up, but I also realized I was bisexual (And I live in the infamous state of Alabama, for reference. Don’t fear for me though, I was too unnoticeable to be bullied if anyone did know, and my wonderful mother, whom I love and cherish with all of my heart, is one of the few Christians that actually... like... do what their own God tells em to. That is, Jesus. I’m an atheist and have a general discomfort about the idea of super powerful entities actually existing irl, but I do agree with the stuff I’ve heard and remember from a decade ago in Church about Jesus. Good guy. But yeah my mom not only accepted me and reassured me when I came out, but she’s gone even further and is of the opinion/fact that lgbt folks are, really, good and normal and that God created them, so she really genuinely just... loves and accepts me. There’s no “I love you despite of this” in the equation and I am so grateful. But again. I digress)

Pause after that sidetrack, to recap, all of my medical issues began to emerge about 6 months before I turned 15. Including what I hate most, the emergence of my Fibromyalgia and Sjogren’s Syndrome, and for an added kick to the flesh, an undifferentiated connective tissue disorder. Meaning, as what I understand it to be, a nameless chimaera of many symptoms in a way that the disorder either is it’s own thing, or just can’t easily be recognized as any one disorder. And I had anxiety. If I recall correctly on *that*, forgive me cuz it’s been a while since it’s been diagnosed/brought up in a significant way, I have or had either general anxiety *and* social anxiety, or just lightweight versions of both, or something, but at the time I was horribly shy and I couldn’t even talk to the teacher after class about schoolwork, even though I tried rationalizing it to hell and back that I shouldn’t be scared— as you’ll guess, shit didn’t work out til I got medicine for it, because no amount of logic and rational thought will change the fact that I was struggling because of a literal disorder, an error of the brain, and as with that walking with two shattered femurs ain’t gonna work, trying to talk when the talk machine broke... ain’t going to goddamn work.

God. I am rambling a lot. But anyway, shit fucking sucked as a teen for me, because I got that wombo combo, prepare for trouble, make it double, precision strike at my existence as a person during fucking already difficult puberty— I am rambling. It’s 4:55am as of this sentence lmao. I had a nasty cocktail of both mental illness and physical disorders pop up once puberty hit me, so I, through many events starting from loving to draw as a toddler, to play pretend stories of heartbreak, betrayal, and death as best an 8 year old could understand via playing with Polly Pockets, and all the creative power I inherited from my Dad, plus the motivation borne through a need to escape, I started making my own characters.

So, to return to the present state of my creations, which will now be referred to as Bounding Beyond the Stars, or BBtS, I’m gonna get some things out of the way. Just to clarify, yeah? I have created my worlds in a way that is specifically meant to stand apart from the irl universe as we know it. I’m certainly not a knowledgeable researcher with any level of comprehension on Spacial law and quantum physics and shit like that. So hey, if something ever seems... like, off, or wrong? Unless it’s pretty obviously wrong in the “hey you just googled how a thing works, and misunderstood it, and made a detail based on a failure to understand stuff and that’s dumb in a catastrophic way that even a high school level viewer would notice...” kind of mistake, then hey, shoot me a message. But if some sort of universal rule seems fucky in the way that it doesn’t make sense, but isn’t a catastrophic structural error... well, Imma use that sentence to start a better one. For an example of a catastrophic error, perhaps... this: “This planet has no seasons cuz of its shape and axis! And it is also like twice as big as Earth!” That would be catastrophic alone because anyone with a grasp on planetary gravity or something, may go and think “if it’s that big, gravity’s gonna be way more intense”. And you’d be right! Which is why I usually account for those things with... *Magic*.

Before I split this post for Length reasons, and I’m sorry the majority of this was me rambling about how my general experience with life sucked from ages 14-17, I’mma state something very important about all my creations.

Magic, which will be explained in depth at a later point, is a fundamental, essential, and omnipresent force of not just any one universe in my Multiversal Trio. It is a key piece of Reality itself, as magic is the flow of many multiples of millions of unique and mysterious energies, concepts, and laws existing anywhere that Is.

To end this post, I’m going to put a quick summary and explanation why I’m rambling about any of this: The rant about my age and circumstances at the start are relevant because it’s necessary context for the tone and type of writing my creations are built upon. The foundations of BBtS are borne from a sometimes angsty, sometimes genuinely upset 14 year old who found escape in the art of Creation. There have been many, many, many heavy edits, rewrites, scrapped info and ideas, and even more info built upon it. It used to be pretty pointlessly edgy in a lot of ways, and redundant in grimdark, morphing into *grimderp* plot devices and character traits. The way it’s written today, I like to think the lore of my many high fantasy-alien societies, and all its denizens and creators and whatever else, are still written to be dark, be dangerous, even angsty... but more skillfully so, with the sort of nuance a 14 year old wouldn’t really even begin to understand. Cuz I still like high stakes stories with real consequences and character deaths when appropriate. And I enjoy characters who have tragic pasts, but now that I’m older and I’ve seen and read about and done so much more— I can write that stuff *better*. And more over, what I’m most satisfied with, is that I’m more in touch with myself as a person, and I’ve evolved many of my personal beliefs and ideals and all the things of the world I can have opinions on. But most of all, I’ve reached a point where I have consumed enough content from others to where I have figured out how to write something that should be interesting, and maybe a bit new, because I put a looot of Damn focus on identifying, and understanding, writing structure, cliches, plot holes to avoid, character traits to handle differently, and just generally making something that’ll appeal to both me, and my audience, should I get that far.

[perfectassumptions-ff]

2

"Harper Smith" echoed in Isis' head as she stood in front of the man she shared a dance with just two nights ago. As she smiled and shook his hand, small panic started to work its way up her spine. Ignoring the tingling in her spine, she recited the speech she prepared while she was en-route to campus.

"Well, Mr. Smith, it is great to finally meet you. Again, I'm sorry that I'm late. Morning traffic was a little heavier than usual. It looks like you've gotten yourself settled in." Isis said as she looked around him and at his bag and books that were already set up on the table.

"Have you already gotten your usernames for the computer systems and Coursework?" Isis trailed on as Harper examined her facial features and was almost lost for words at how beautiful she was. The dark didn't do her justice, he thought to himself. His eyes searched her eyes to see if there was a sense of familiarity but she was hard to read.  Isis could tell he wasn't listening to her, so she politely waved her hand in front of his to get his attention.

"Oh...umm. Yes ma'am" Harper responded as he scratched his head.

"I read over the class schedule and you’ll be teaching two classes this semester. I hope that isn’t too much for you starting off.” 

“No ma’am not at all. I’m actually excited about teaching here. It’s always been my dream to teach at Columbia University.” 

“Well when you have a minute after you have gotten through your first day of classes, stop by my office. Until then, I’ll leave you to it." Isis said as the first couple of students started to trickle in. As Isis started her way back up the stairs she came down, the few early students greeted her with warm hellos, she politely waved back but her mind was somewhere else. As she took the last step, she quickly looked over her shoulder to make sure what just happened actually did. Seeing that Harper was still standing in the same place with a devilish smile on his face, she knew that it was real.

As Isis exited the classroom her mind continued to play the last five minutes over in her head. She moved through the now chaotic hallways almost in slow motion. Students waved as she passed and Isis absentmindedly waved back. Walking into her office she was met with the smell of brown sugar which meant her student assistant was here before she was. “͞Great͟” Isis murmured as she rid herself of her overcoat and briefcase. She walked over to her Keurig to make herself a much needed cup of coffee. As she debated over what flavor she wanted, her office door came swinging open and in walked her overzealous student assistant. 

“͞Dean DuBois! I’ve been looking all over for you. I even tried to call you but your phone is off. Well I wanted you to know that the new professor was here and let me tell you he doesn’t look like a professor. He is actually too cute to be one. Did anybody check his credentials? I mean all the girls are talking about it….” Zoey was rambling and Isis wasn’t caffeinated enough for it and she was still unsure if her recent encounter was real or not. 

Isis started to rub her temples as Zoey continued to rant on. “͞Zoey, you’re rambling and I haven’t even had my coffee yet.͟ And yes I know the new professor is here we just had a brief introduction.” Isis turned her attention back to her decision of what coffee to quick brew and just opted for a generic Dunkin Donuts’ pod. Popping it in the machine she pressed brew and turned to face Zoey.

Isis was ready to walk in to her office when the door opened and a few students entered. They came in to check to see if she needed any extra TA’s for the semester and before she could answer Zoey said a quick no. Isis chuckled internally because she now knows why people think she plays favorites. Even though Zoey can be long winded she is a hard worker and an overall great TA. Isis doesn’t have to ask much of her overzealous assistant and that works perfectly for her. The now disappointed students muttered an “oh okay maybe next semester” and exited her office. 

“So Zoey, how was your break?” Isis’ back was now towards her again as she picked up her cup of hot coffee.

“It was cool! I didn’t do much. But I think I found the perfect seminar project for your class this semester. It is so awesome! I’m telling you, you’re going to love it!” 

“I thought the point of a break was to take a break. This is your last semester with me Zoey, I want you to enjoy it.” Isis gave her a warm smile. “So what is this project you came up with?” Isis motioned her head toward her office door and Zoey followed her ready to present her idea. As Isis sat at her mahogany desk her office phone started ringing. Before she was able to react to it, Zoey answered it.

“Dean Dubois’s Office how can I help you?” Isis shook her head. She knew deep down inside that Zoey always means well but sometimes she forgets that this was in fact her office and this big office came with a secretary and she often walked the line of being more of a secretary then her TA. 

“Hi President Stevens! Yes, Dean Dubois is here. Yes, please hold” Zoey handed the phone to Isis and then made herself comfortable on the high back leather chair that was opposite of Isis. Isis stared blankly at Zoey and waited for her to leave her office. Zoey finally looked up and caught the vibe that she was sending. “I have class anyway.” She muttered as she collected her stuff and left. 

“Hello President Stevens. Welcome back!” Isis tried her hardest to sound upbeat but at the moment she just wanted to slide out of her shoes drink her coffee and catch up on emails before going to her first class. Isis blew into her coffee before taking a sip. She hissed when the scolding caffeinated drink burned the tip of her tongue.

“I came by your office today and I was surprised to see your TA and not you. Did you forget you had to meet the new member of your faculty?” Isis immediately rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. 

“No, I did not forget. I spoke with him and we are meeting after classes today. And don’t you mean your new faculty member? This is your pick not mine. I don’t even know if he is qualified to handle this position. He doesn’t even look like a real professor.” Isis knew she sounded like a spoiled child but she was protective over her department and didn’t like anyone messing with it. The Dean and Isis went back and forth for a few minutes until she decided she was finished with the conversation and politely excused herself because a make believe student was at her door.

“Isis, do not run this professor off. He is a great addition to your department. Play nice!” And with that the phone went dead. Isis was left with a puzzled look on her face. “Did that man just tell me to play nice?” Isis scoffed. “Asshole” she said out loud.

Scoffing to herself, she realized it was time for her morning class, grabbing her still hot coffee and her laptop bag she exited her office and headed to her classroom. As she walked down the hall she made a pit stop by Harper’s class and popped her head in. He was in the midst of discussing gender roles and how they’ve changed over the last 20 years. Isis was slightly impressed with what he was saying and was getting ready to walk out when one of the students raised their hand.

“So, Professor Harper, what role does your wife or girlfriend play?” Isis studied the young students body language and it oozed sex. Isis rolled her eyes and let out a small scuff. She didn’t stay to hear Harper’s response because she knew that he would play right into that young students fantasies. She left the spot she was in and finished her walk to her classroom. Her thoughts were still all over the place. Dismissing them, she entered the classroom and set her stuff up. 

The door flew open and in walked her first students, they all said hello and found a seat. Isis unpacked her laptop and phone, and placed both on silent. Just as she was about to take a seat, she overheard one of the students say “Girl, have you seen the new professor? Whew, I would love for him to teach me some roles…… in the bedroom” the group of women gave each other high-fives and giggled. Isis was appalled at the lewd comments that the group of students were making. 

“Dean DuBois! Have you seen the new professor? I want to thank you for giving us some eye candy! Isn’t he fiiinnnneee?!” Another member of the girl group was now the one giving everyone a high-five.

“Yea he is something, alright” was all that Isis could mumbled. This man was giving her a headache and she didn’t even know him.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 049

Last time, Gohan rescued a Namekian child from Dodoria, and Krillin used the Solar Flare to cover their escape.   Dodoria doesn’t have a scouter, and he can’t sense ki energy like the good guys, so he basically has no way to track his enemies if they drop out of sight.  

I suppose it’s the overwhelming arrogance of Frieza’s group that’s their biggest weakness.    The scouters were a cool concept when they were first introduced.   They make Raditz look more science-fictiony, but by the time Zarbon and Dodoria are running around, it just seems really dumb.   I guess that’s because by this point, the good guys have refined their ki senes to the point where they’re superior to the scouters in every way.   So you end up with Dodoria uselessly tapping the button on his ear, and wondering if his readings are accurate, and then getting completely flustered when he no longer has the tech to rely upon.   Without one, he got completely suckered by Krillin and Gohan, who should be way out of their league.    But Dodoria can’t find them, and he just fell for the oldest trick in the book.    He’s stronger than Vegeta was on Earth, but he comes across like a complete loser.

Frustrated, Dodoria decides that the heroes couldn’t have gone far, so he fires a blast at the water below to make a huge explosion.   He assumes--stupidly-- that this would be enough to kill them.    I mean, it probably would, but he doesn’t even know if they’re in range, and even if they were in range, there’d be no way to tell, because their bodies would be vaporized.

I wasn’t planning to go on a rant about how dumb Dodoria is, but geez.    We’ve already established that these are no ordinary guys.   He has no idea how strong or weak they are.    Dodoria thinks they’re weaker because they ran away, but how does he know they aren’t luring him into a trap?   Krillin already surprised him with the Solar Flare, so how can he be sure whether his blast would kill them or not?   He’s taking an awful chance here, and he doesn’t even seem to realize it.   Even if Gohan and Krillin can’t harm him, how pissed will Frieza be if they show up later, after Dodoria reported them dead?  

Dodoria’s problem is that he’s so used to working with a scouter that he can’t adjust his tactics to working without one.    He’s used to opponents who can’t raise or lower their battle power, to the point that he never bothers to consider what it would mean to fight enemies who can.  Moori blasted the scouter right off his face, and then Gohan and Krillin sucker punched him.   He was stronger than all three of them put together, but it didn’t even occur to him to be on guard for any of that.    He’s used to the scouter warning him, and he’s so used to having it that he never imagined anyone would try to take it away from him.

Anyway, Dodoria heads back, and Dende thanks the boys for saving him.   Krillin gives all the credit to Gohan, since Krillin was too petrified to even consider it.   Gohan points out that Krillin helped when it counted, making up for Gohan’s reckless heroism.   I like that.   It would be easy to reduce Krillin to a fraidy-cat, or to reduce Gohan to a rash idealist, but instead they both work together to support each other.   That’s important.

Back at the cave, Bulma’s taking a bubble bath in the capsule house she set up, and her father informs her that Goku is en route to Namek.    That’s pretty amazing reception she’s getting, considering that she’s in a cave in another solar system.   

Speaking of Goku, he’s having a snack during his long journey through space.

I like to think he’s gonna make a banana-and-fish sandwich.   Good ol’ B&F, Goku style.  

But he’s got the ship’s artificial gravity turned up to twenty-times normal, so when he flops on the bed it wrecks his quarters.    Dr Brief stocked this place with a bookshelf and a giant TV.   Goku was only going to be gone for twelve days, and he planned to train the whole way.    The stero/cappucino machine made sense to me, but did Dr. Brief really think he was going to watch a bunch of old movies and read novels?

On Namek, Dodoria’s still sore about not having scouters, since it’ll complicate the Dragon Ball hunt.   Really, why should he complain?    They already have five of them, so even if it takes longer to get the last two, it could have been a lot worse?   Besides, what else was he going to do today?

Then he gets ambushed again, and this time it turns out to be Vegeta. 

Vegeta’s been monitoring their communications on their scouters, right up until the sound cut out when Moori destroyed them all.    Then he sensed Dodoria moving on his own, and decided to intercept him.     Dodoria notices that Vegeta still has a scouter--the last one on the planet, apparently-- and offers to let Vegeta go if he turns it over.   

So Vegeta drops it on the ground and invites Dodoria to take it from him.    Then he steps on it and destroys it.    Wait, Vegeta’s foot is really tiny, isn’t it?

Dodoria is shocked, since this means Vegeta is giving up his only advantage, until Vegeta explains that he met enemies on Earth who could sense battle powers without a scouter.     One of them was a Saiyan (Goku), which convinced him that he should be able to learn the same trick.

“Once you learn how to do it, it’s easy.    But then, for those like yourselves or Frieza, who only set their sights on power, it would be impossible.   Although up until now, I was the same way.”

This is an interesting line from Vegeta, and I noticed it wasn’t really duplicated in the dub.     The part where he says that if Goku can do something, he should be able to do it too, that line carried over, and it always stuck with me.   It’s a big reason why Vegeta has outlasted so many other characters in the franchise.   If Goku learns a new ability or faces a new rival, there’s absolutely no reason for Vegeta to stay out of the picture.   

But the part about Frieza and his men being incapable of such growth, that’s very important.   It defines the whole Frieza/Namek saga, and maybe all of Dragon Ball as a whole.   It’s not that the bad guys can’t learn to sense ki; they just never considered it was possible, and they never would have bothered to try.    For all their power, they’re close-minded, cut off from new ideas and the possibilities that come with them.    Guys like Cui and Dodoria honestly believed that Vegeta would never surpass them in strength, like it was a rule or something.   Now, the rules of the game have changed, and Dodoria can’t keep up.   His opening move in this confrontation was to threaten Vegeta, even though they both know he’s got the upper hand.

Dodoria accuses him of bringing Earthlings with him as some sort of alliance, but Vegeta has no idea what he’s talking about.    Dodoria nervously “offers” him a chance to run away, but Vegeta knows better.   This is just sad, really.  

I mean, Cui was genuinely surprised to find out that Vegeta had gotten stronger, but Dodoria monitored that battle on his scouter, so he knows Vegeta’s too much for him.  And yet, he keeps playing the same hand, like the universe is going to say “You know what?  You called our bluff, Dodoria.   Yeah, Vegeta’s not really that strong.    Sorry about that.”    No.    It doesn’t work that way.

So Vegeta grabs Dodoria and puts him in a jointlock very easily.   You know, I didn’t think Vegeta was this much stronger than Dodoria.  I’m pretty sure a big explanation for this is that Dodoria doesn’t have nearly a much skill.   He’s used to just mowing down his opposition with brute force, so when he takes on someone in his own weight class, with greater finesse, he gets overmatched immediately.    It explains ho Krillin and Gohan held him off for as long as they did. 

But Dodoria convinces Vegeta to let him go, in exchange for a secret about the Planet Vegeta.   This leads to a... well, it’s not exactly a flashback.   Really, it’s just random footage of Saiyans to accompany Dodoria’s revelation.

Is that guy Nappa?   He looks like an off-model bootleg version.

And here’s a shot of some great apes breaking stuff.   I’ve seen gifs of this, and I never could tell where they’re from.    For the record, it’s Episode 49 of DBZ.

The Saiyans were never strong enough to oppose Frieza individually, but if enough of them joined forces, they could cause Frieza some problems.   

On top of that, a number of Saiyans were beginning to show greater and greater potential.    The fact that Vegeta just ate Cui and Dodoria’s lunch is proof of that.    A year ago, that would have been impossible for Vegeta, and he’s the strongest of his species.

So Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta, wiping out the entire Saiyan race, well before enough of them could become powerful enough to openly defy him. 

But Frieza thought Vegeta alone could still be useful, so he made sure Vegeta wasn’t on the planet when he destroyed it.   I assume the meteor story was invented solely to keep Vegeta in the dark.

Couple of things here.    First, I think this is the very first time the Japanese script mentions Vegeta being the Saiyan prince.  The Funimation dub was referring to “Prince Vegeta” as early as episode 11, but I’ve been keeping an eye out, waiting for the Japanese version to establish it, and this seems to be the first time.   Maybe I missed an earlier mention of it.

This is probably not a coincidence, as this whole episode seems to be laying the groundwork for Vegeta’s transition from villain to antihero.  Before, he was just the boss of a small gang of space pirates.     Now, Dodoria is describing him as a prince of a nearly-extinct warrior race.    His revolt against Frieza now begins to resemble a quest for revenge.   Yeah, Vegeta still plans to become an immortal space tyrant, essentially replacing Frieza’s evil with his own, but there’s still a sympathetic aspect to him now.  

Plus, he’s got the whole thing where he learned something from his time on Earth.   Vegeta’s nowhere near making friends with the Z-Fighters.  He just threatened to kill them in this episode, for example.   Still, he seems to recognize that losing that battle on Earth was more beneficial to him than any victory.    There’s at least a glimmer of respect for what the Earth represents, whereas he only sees Dodoria as desperate and pathetic.

Second, I always found it ironic that Frieza decided to keep just one Saiyan alive to serve in his organization.   Actually, it was three, but let’s face it, Raditz and Nappa were nothing to Frieza.    My point is that he was concerned about a mass uprising of Saiyans, and he was concerned about individual Saiyans growing stronger over time.   But he really only addressed one of those issues.    Vegeta may have been isolated after his home planet was destroyed, but he’s been getting stronger and stronger ever since. 

I think Frieza might have assumed that a single Saiyan would be more compliant than a group of them.    Again, complacency seems to be the issue with Frieza’s organization.   I get the impression that he conquered the Saiyans, much like he conquered other planets, and put them to work alongside his own forces, and just sort of assumed the dynamics wouldn’t change.   Like, I don’t know if Frieza conquered a planet full of Zarbons or not.    He may have only recruited Zarbon alone, because he was the strongest one.   The rest would be no threat to him.

But with the Saiyans, the whole population is super strong, and they yearn to get stronger.    After a few years, Frieza started to realize that they’d just get bigger and bigger until they became to big to handle.   This idea gets explored in the Bardock special, but I think it begs the question of why Frieza didn’t just destroy the Saiyans from the start.    I’m pretty sure it’s because he’s really lazy.   The idea of a whole planet full of warriors was too enticing to give up easily.   In the recent Dragon Ball Super: Broly movie, Frieza’s kind of desperate for soldiers, and there’s no reason to think that things were any different fifty years earlier.  The Saiyans must have seemed like a dream come true... at first.   

As for Dodoria, his entire plan is to shock Vegeta with his startling revelation, and then run away while he’s still processing it.    Instead, Vegeta isn’t bothered much at all.    He doesn’t care about his family or friends that Frieza killed.    He’s only mad at himself for not suspecting Frieza in the first place, and he’s pissed at Frieza & Co. for daring to think they could manipulate him like this.   Geets zaps him, and that’s the end of Dodoria.

The only thing Dodoria’s tip accomplished was to encourage Vegeta further.  Now he nows that Frieza is afraid of the Saiyans.   So no matter how much stronger Frieza is, there’s still a chance.    A Saiyan can beat Frieza.

Speaking of which... 

[dumbbelle]

robber!Minghao

In the end, Chan’s the one who says it best: “So… What you’re telling me is that you broke into Y/N’s house to steal a painting, and walked out having stolen their heart instead?”

Seokmin raises his hand for a high five. “Smooth man, smooth.”

Minghao Robin Hoods the frick outta his life, and quite literally bumps into you in the process. 

✄ Word Count: 3402 ✄ T/W: Swearing, attempted robbery, cute shit ✄ A/N: Heyo it’s Belle, I’m back with something that nobody asked for but I thought was necessary.

Masterlist

Contrary to what his best friend and roommate says, Xu Minghao insists that he’s a decent person.

(“And Mingyu can go fuck himself with his morals, the asshole’s the most notorious bootlegger you’ll find on campus”)

But honest, Minghao is a simple college boy.

He came to Pledis University when he was 18 as an international student, double majoring in Visual Arts, and Korean Language and Culture.

He’s there mostly on scholarship but he also has financial support from his parents, so he’s never really had to worry about his economic status.

He’s not the most social of kids but he’s also not the most introverted, so he always has just enough friends and just enough parties to attend as to not get bored.

But he gets bored anyway, because he’s always been an active child itching to do more.

So really, this whole mess started when he decides that he should pick up his old hobby:

Breakdancing

It’s mostly just a passing thought that comes to him when he comes back home for holiday and rewatches a VHR tape of an old b-boying competition.

But it lingers and every once in awhile he considers the possibility of him just quitting school and becoming a b-boy star like he once dreamed of.

After all, he was pretty damn good.

(He accidentally thinks this out loud during dinner and his mother throws her chopsticks at him)

Anyway, he returns to college for the new year and he’s almost completely forgotten about his old dreams.

Luckily enough (or maybe unluckily enough, depending on the perspective), there is a campus b-boy squad that he happens to stumble upon during his second-year clubs fair (as in, they barrelled into him with a flier and bombarded him with questions).

To be truthful, it seems pretty lame and Minghao’s sure that if he went underground, he could probably find a cooler scene,,,

But also, they said that there would be snacks at the interest meeting,,,

And so he makes the considerate decision to attend.

The interest meeting is where he meets Seokmin of all people.

The acting major makes a scene when he announces that he’s not there as Lee Seokmin but as Kang Hajoon, a lower-class high school drop out who finds his way through the power of breakdance.

(“Nobody knew who you were in the first place, dipshit–“

“–I said to call me Hajoon–“

“–Just sit down.”)

And people are snickering at Seokmin because they find his method acting lame.

But Minghao finds that lame so he proceeds to sit down right beside the boy and stare daggers at any jerk who directs a snide comment their way.

He hangs around just long enough so that he can decimate the rest in a b-boy demonstration, pretty much showing them all what they’re going to miss out on.

And then he gets up and leaves the meeting, Seokmin following behind him.

They grab some chips on their way out and properly introduce themselves.

“Hey sorry about all of that in there, Seo- uh, Hajoon. B-boyers usually aren’t assholes… Just them. Don’t let that bleed into your portrayal, you feel? I’m Minghao, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m over it. Thanks for what you did back there... It’s nice to meet you too. And you can call me Seokmin now, I’m done with Hajoon for the day.”

Which starts an odd, but well-oiled friendship.

Seokmin introduces Minghao to all of his friends, and that’s how Minghao ends up with an incredibly,, diverse,, friend group.

And by diverse, he means that he’s positive his friendship with them will likely result with him going to jail.

He should’ve realized it when the de facto leader Seungcheol introduced himself as “S.Coups” and made him sign a waiver of liability before joining the group.

It was scribbled on to the back of a receipt but yeah, it should’ve been a little concerning

But Minghao just kinda rolls with it.

And this is how he finds himself inducted into their so-called “League of Good Doers Doing Not So Good Doer Things”.

It’s a working title; LoGDDNSGDT for short.

(“What do you do, Seokmin?”

“I’m a recruiter!”

“… That’s fair.”)

It takes him a few months to solidify his role in the group (he’s the last to join), but in that time he manages to become especially good friends with Mingyu, so much so that he becomes his roommate.

Mingyu’s known for using his technical abilities to bootleg high quality concert footage, videos, textbooks, and whatever else you need.

(“We’re all just a bunch of broke college students with a bunch of broke college student needs. We’re just making those needs realities.”)

Also alcohol, he sells a lot of alcohol.

And though Minghao initially scoffs at this, it also makes him check his privilege a little

He’s always been fortunate enough to grow up with money and be smart, free to do whatever he wants when he wants.

Growing up, he’s had a lot of interests and a lot of phases, all of which he more than excelled in.

Gosh, there was even that one ninja phase…

THE NINJA PHASE

He’s eating a brownie that’s probably been laced with weed one Friday night as he watches tv with Mingyu and Seokmin when he remembers the ninja phase.

He remembers how stealthy he is and just how good he is at picking locks.

And so he decides to Robin Hood the frick outta his life, robbing the expensive belongings from the richer students and pawning their items off so he can donate to the poor.

He excels at this too, much to Mingyu’s chagrin (“the kid’s just fuckin’ good at everything!”)

It definitely alleviates him of his boredom, and he’s so subtle and precise with it that most of the time, people don’t even notice when things are missing.

He’s become some kind of town legend, and so many people idolize this mysterious robber that the authorities aren’t even too concerned.

He’s also somehow acquired this odd nickname?? The8?? They say it’s because you never know how his crimes begin or how they’ll end.

Like the only thing anybody knows about his victims is that they’ll be wealthy (but gosh, Pledis U has too many of those roaming the place),,,, but then next thing you know the underfunded art department will suddenly get a donation of a few thousand, or the Culture Club food drive will find a gazillion non-perishable cans when they come back the next morning.

Minghao likes to think he's spontaneous.

Now this is where you come in (“finally,” I can hear you sigh from behind your screens)

Unlike everyone else around you, you do not have the biggest crush on this mysterious figure.

(“Just for the record, ‘The8’ is literally the dumbest robber alias I have ever heard.”

“How many have you heard before?”

“Not. The. Point.”)

All he does is go around and undermine people’s hard work, invading their personal space and infringing on their privacy.

All so that he can make a quick buck.

And sure, maybe he’s not spending all that money on himself, but to make students feel unsafe and unprotected in their own freaking homes and dorms?

And to have nobody do anything about it?

Absurd.

It becomes such a constant source of ire for you that you rant about this almost daily.

But it’s like you’re the only one who understands the gravity of the situation.

Your closest friends are all about this guy, singing his praises and commending his selflessness.

Your junior, Chan, is particularly adamant about the quality of his character (you have no idea about his involvement with the LoGDDNSGDT, of course; after all, he also had to sign the receipt contract).

So you’re a party of 1 in the Anti-The-8 Movement.

He’s three months into it when he makes a rather stupid mistake:

He decides to rob you.

Minghao will later complain that anybody could’ve gotten the wrong idea.

He sees you for the first time in his Korean History class.

He doesn’t exactly know how he missed you before.

First of all, you’re fucking gorgeous

First of all, there is a certain air that you carry yourself with–

It’s poised and self-assured and kind of breathtaking.

You raise your hand to read a passage and even the way you speak is levelled and controlled.

You remind him of royalty some of the other wealthy kids on campus.

Probably trained to uphold a certain degree of eloquence so that you can one day take over your parents’ company and maintain good business relationships. 

And socialize at those hoity-toity parties with the little hors d'oeuvres.

His thoughts are confirmed after class when he overhears you talk with your friends.

You’re asking your friend to take notes in place for you when you go off to vacation with your family next week.

“Heading off to the island?” Your one friend chirps.

“Yeah, dad just finished a successful case and we’re celebrating.”

And wait, an island? These guys must be fucking loaded.

Your friend lets your name slip and it’s all starting to make a lot more sense.

Now he’s heard of your name around campus.

Your parents are lawyers who built an empire, opening up law firms around the country.

They’re known for being ruthless and never sharing their wealth.

In short, they’re prime targets!!

Minghao feels like it’s Christmas– this will be his biggest catch since that one kid who was the heir to the electric toothbrush company.

He trails you and your friends for a few minutes just to confirm the details and then he’s off to plan.

Fast forward a week later to when you should be going off to vacation.

But instead you come down with the stomach flu, and not a pretty one either.

You experience the full range of systems:

Vomit, fever, dizziness, fatigue,,, There’s no way your parents are letting you tag along on the trip.

And you’re too busy vomiting to argue.

So they ditch your ass and head off to vacation by themselves, once you assure them that you’ll be fine on your own.

After all, you are a certified GDI who can take care of yourself.

… Who just so happens to be dressed up in a onesie, cuddling a large teddy bear as you watch Netflix from your nest of pillows on the couch.

You’ve scrolling through your recommended feed when you hear it:

The door opening

And you have to wonder if the vacation ended early because who else… Would…

You gasp when you realize what’s going on, rushing to turn off the television as to eliminate all sources of sound.

All your nightmares are coming true, and you haven’t even fully developed a game plan to approach this awful situation.

Now you’re not dumb, you’re not gonna run headfirst into a situation where you don’t have the upper hand.

Instead, you’ll hide and discreetly notify the authorities when you activate the alarm system.

And so no, you’re not dumb,, 

But you are clumsy.

You’re trying to navigate your way to your bedroom, remote in hand as a backup weapon, checking over your shoulder at every possible moment.

Perhaps you’re checking over your shoulder a little too much, because next thing you know you’ve crashed into a wall.

Except the wall moves and you know that it’s definitely not a wall.

The wall makes a sound, a little grunt and you snap your head back around so quickly, you think you hear the whip of the wind.

The man in front of you is tall and skinny, and seems oddly familiar even with his ski mask on.

You don’t have too much time to contemplate this however , as you’re too busy trying to whack the heck outta him with your remote.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU ASSBUCKET.”

It's all just too much, and you're surprised you haven't shat your pants because of how scared you are.

But,,,, The8 is kinda just taking it??? He's trying to block you of course (and mostly succeeding to, the jerk) but he's not trying to fight back. What kind of shitty robber…?

You're c o n f u s e d, which is why you stop to look up at him expectantly.

“You done?” His voice incites a whole new wave of panic to wash over you, and you raise your remote to start hitting him again but The8 quickly raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, hey now, I'm not here to hurt you.”

You're skeptical, of course you are. But you think back to all the gossip you’ve heard about The8, and realize that you can’t recall any accounts of violence.

This doesn't change the fact that this asshole is robbing you, so you use the remote to gesture towards his ski mask.

“Take it off.”

And he sighs, as if it's inevitable, but holds up a finger and starts to negotiate,,,, as if he has any right to in this current situation,,, and gosh, how is he so damn calm right now??

“Okay, but if I do, promise you won’t call the cops immediately.”

You don't know why you agree to his terms– you're sure it won't make a difference.

He’ll get the cops called on him sooner or later.

But if it gets him to cooperate… You agree with a swift dip of your head.

The tension in the room is palpable, and you have to remind yourself to breathe as he starts to take off his mask.

And oh fuck you know who it is you know who it is you know who it is.

You recognize him immediately as the cute guy in your Korean History class, the one you've had a crush on since forever and a half ago.

The one that's always hanging out with that group of loud kids…Chan's Precious Seniors

And somewhere in your subconscious, you're freaking out about the possibility of Chan being involved in a crime syndicate.

And further freaking out about how you’ve confided in Chan about your crush in Xu Minghao, who just so happens to be The8 and holy fuck you can’t believe it’s him.

You really don’t have much time to dwell, because the shock and overexertion of the situation starts gets to you, and you’re starting to feel dizzy. It’s like the fever finally catches up to you–

And then you’re falling, fainting–

The last thing you hear before you pass out is the startled cry of your name.

…

You wake up to the smell of broth, and the feeling of a damp cloth pressed to the top of your forehead.

Your headache is devastating, but you’re otherwise positioned comfortably

It takes you a minute to process that you’re back on your living room couch, low hum of the television sounding from somewhere to your right

You try to locate the smell of broth, which is when you meet eye-to-eye with a very timid looking Minghao

He’s more tense than earlier, as if he’s scared you’ll jump up right then and there to attack him

And you would, honest, but the broth,,, smells,,, so,,, good,,,

You motion for him to give it to you and he relaxes before quickly complying, letting you sit up before gently placing the bowl in your hands.

He settles into a stool beside you– one that definitely wasn’t there before, but it’s whatever.

You sit there in silence for a good couple of minutes, Minghao watching the drama playing on TV as you drink your broth.

It’s kinda nice

Minghao’s the first one to speak.

“Please don’t exert yourself like that if you’re sick. You could’ve had a heart attack or something.”

He sounds so small that you just manage to resist throwing the rest of the hot soup at him in the sudden bubble of anger that erupts from you in the form of a hiss.

“Um, my memory might be wrong here but wasn’t it you who broke into my house in the first place, assbucket?”

He chuckles at that, and you’re slowly losing that sliver of self-restraint.

“Assbucket, that’s a new one.” You notice that his accent is more prominent when he’s amused.

“You deserve worse, you assbucket.”

At that he really laughs, and you have to look away to distract yourself from how attractive the sound is.

“You’re cute, you know that?”

You’re not sure what to say to that, and Minghao can tell. He quickly changes tact.

“Listen, I get why you’re mad.” Oh, now wouldn’t that be the understatement of the year.

“But I promise I’m not here to hurt you. I-I won’t even steal anything from here anymore. But please, please don’t make yourself more sick because of me.”

And man, fuck Minghao for making it damn near impossible to call the police on his ass. You don’t say anything more until you finish up your broth.

“Why… Why do you do it?”

Minghao shrugs. “Just because.”

“Just because? You’re violating my home, Minghao. This is my private space, and you’re infringing upon it without my consent.”

Minghao furrows his eyebrows, as if he’s never considered it before. And God, why did it have to be him?

Minghao finally hums. “Would you miss it?”

W-wha… “Huh?”

Minghao nods towards an abstract modernist piece that hangs high up on your wall. “Would you miss it?”

Your silence is more than enough to answer his question.

“But I’m sorry, you know. I truly wouldn’t have come around if I was aware you’d be home. Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”

“. . . Minghao, that’s creepy. Don’t do that. Besides, how do you know my name?”

“How do you know mine?”

The fucker. You blush, shrugging and dropping the subject completely. You’re avoiding his eyes so much that you miss the fond smile on his lips. He’s about to say something when a phone sounds. You realize it’s coming from Minghao’s pocket and watch as he takes it out, curious.

Minghao checks his phone and immediately scowls, closing his eyes in what seems like exasperation.

“I… I have to go, so sorry. My roommate just did something unbelievably stupid because he’s unbelievably stupid.”

You refrain from asking; you really don’t wanna know.

“Will you be alright by yourself? I’m worried… I’ll try to stay longer if you don’t think you will… I mean, if you want. Or I can call someone to come or–”

Where was this bashful kid an hour ago? For the first time that evening, you let out a small smile. He sees it and is stunned, momentarily blinded by your beauty.

“I’ll be fine Minghao, go help your roommate.”

He nods, getting up to leave, but not before taking your phone from the coffee table. He holds it out so that you can unlock it, and you do, though the question hangs in your eyes.

“I-I’m not taking it, just wanted to give you my phone number. In case you start to feel worse. Call me or don’t... It’s whatever.”

And so you do.

...

Bonus:

Three months later, you’re recounting the tale to the rest of the boys during one of their weekly movie nights. (You don’t dare touch the brownies, Minghao tells you they’re fucked.)

In the end, Chan’s the one who says it best: “So… What you’re telling me is that you broke into Y/N’s house to steal a painting, and walked out having stolen their heart instead?”

Seokmin raises his hand for a high five. “Smooth man, smooth.”

Your boyfriend ignores it, though Seokmin stubbornly keeps his hand up and waits for anyone to complete the exchange. You tap your palm against his in pity.

“Actually,” Minghao starts, nuzzling his nose into your hair, “I would say Y/N is the one who stole my heart instead. Just had to fall straight into my arms like that… A true master of seduction.”

You giggle, turning your head to peck his lips. The boys groan, losing interest in your story and turning back towards the movie.

From somewhere in the corner, you hear Mingyu fake a gag.

(Perhaps it’s the brownies, you can’t really tell.)

Masterlist 

[kinktae]

jesus christ I'm so sorry to hear you're in a similar, if not worse situation than I am. school is just so stressful and anxiety inducing and people here are assholes. like as bad as paris level asshole which says a lot believe me. I wish I could give you advice but I've never been through college and honestly I have no clue what it's like here or in france. honestly you should clear up your schedule a bit too for next semester/trimester - french anon

I am taking four classes next semester!!! So yes definitely!

Anonymous said: but if I can be honest my schedule for second year (dunno what it’s called sorry) is worse. once again I have no prep - AP US history (I know nothing about this), AP Chemistry, also know little about chemistry and lack the english vocabulary, another honors english class, combining two honors french classes which shouldn’t be a problem but I’m from the country and it’s like satori in korean it’s completely different from standard french for me. like hillbilly french ig- french anon

HILLBILLY FRENCH HAHAHAH. Also, second year is called sophomore year! AP US History, damn girl that is a tough, even for an American. I would see if you can drop out of that class and switch it to something easier like AP Environmental Science (if that’s an option.) But I’m sure if you dedicate yourself you should be able to get through it

Anonymous said: after that we have honors algebra second year, I barely know anything about geometry and trigonometry. I don’t even know how to say trigonometry in french like what? I have another high level music class and then another year of a third language in honors. I don’t even have a study class (hall?) next year and I am in three sports so I practice more than a full time job works, and then I go to school. I think I really messed up here - french anon

Thats so weird bc my french teacher taught us that trigonometry was just le trigonométrie. Anyway, you don’t need to know geometry/trig to understand algebra. They say if you hate geometry then you will love algebra. Algebra is like chemistry but chem has science mixed in. (Also remember that colleges only require that you take two years of the same language in high school, which means you don’t have to take it your third year.)

Anonymous said: I just want to be on the right medication for my mental disorders so that maybe I don’t live off of two pieces of bread everyday for two weeks only to have it happen again. it’s frustrating! I want this to be over! and no offense america but literally why trump he makes everything worse and your politics system makes no sense. like at least in france I don’t have to be aware of it but here it’s literally everywhere you go. - french anon

Ah I hope they can find the right medication for you! As Trump, hahhhhh I have many thoughts on that man as a child of two immigrants. I don’t want to get too into it but just know that the majority of Americans DID NOT vote for him, I think only 47% of Americans actually voted for him lol idk i don’t understand the government

Anonymous said: your language is really weird by the way. I know I’m french and can’t say that technically bc french is just as bad but literally @ english why. grammar sucks. sentence structure sucks. PRONUNCIATION AND SYLLABLE STRESS SUCKS. contractions are weird. there’s literally almost no point to them in english? and overall the people here suck w welcoming foreigners like I cannot tell you how many times someone impersonated my accent to make fun of me. - french anon

LMAO I FEEEEEL. Also I’m sorry people are being shitty ugh. Americans are sometimes too blunt and speak without thinking, we don’t even realize sometimes when we are being rude.

Anonymous said: I said it before too, and I will most definitely say it a bunch more. your. school. system. sucks. ass. it can suck my ass, slap my thigh and call me george for all I care and I would still not think it’s funny despite being an awful joke. I hope your life improves though bc you just don’t deserve this the only human I can think of in america that deserves the shit of their own system is moldy tangerine himself. rip american students. - french anon

MOLDY TANGERINE SDKFJSKJF I personally see him more as a stale cheeto.

Anonymous said: but honestly from what I can tell college sucks. fake news. exams are stressful as heck and if you do good no one but your anxiety rewards you bc I’m the same way, I live off of my grades and atm I have a D+ in English and a C in AP World History. I’m far behind and the final is this week oops. but honestly like,,, why. just why. you only get degraded if you fail and nothing good happens if you pass like what is the point. - french anon

College is actually really really great when you don’t overload yourself with work. There is so much freedom and you can take literally ANY class you can think of. I could take a class all about rock n roll music if I wanted to at my university. Also, I guess if you pass a class, then you get to go to more school. Yay(?)

Anonymous said: I’m going to keep you in my thoughts amour, because I really hope things get better and you get the courage to attend your classes. sorry for going off again in your inbox it’s probably annoying to have some stupid freshman ranting about the school system when your situation seems to be way worse than mine. I hope everything goes well, don’t worry about writing for your followers bc we’d rather you do it for fun than force it. - french anon

Anonymous said: it’s a lot easier to read when it flows naturally from your thoughts (and as someone who stRuggles w reading on occasion I know and I can tell bby). please take your time and prioritize you. please. I’m begging. I can’t imagine what your situation is like but it does not seem fun. so don’t feel any pressure from here and focus on what’s a lot more important. I believe in you, I believe you can pass english. I know you can. okay I’m done, sorry again. je t'aime, mon amour, salut

Ahh you are too sweet. I will prioritize my time. Also psshhh you don’t bother me at all. I mean, we are technically both “stupid freshman.” You’re a freshman in high school and I am a freshman in college ;) Thank you for your kind words, te amo, je t’aime and I love you

[just-another-tortured-poet]

My crappy Literature teacher or why I don’t give a single F.

Okay, so a little heads up first. For those of you who do not like long rants and lots of venting – you might want to skip this. For the ones that are intrigued – here it goes but it’s long.

*Might contain Harry Potter references!

So, here begins my extremely angry rant:

This is a story featuring a presentation about the monuments of Ancient Greece, another about the Greek mythology in the arts and a crappy teacher. Hope you find it interesting! :)

We'll need the names of three of my classmates. We’ll name them  Narcissa, Bella and Lilly. And of course there's also the crappy Literature teacher – we’ll name her Mrs. Umbridge.

First I’ll start off by telling you guys about the schedule. We have classes with Umbridge twice a week: two hours on Tuesday and one on Friday.

So, last week the teacher says: "I want two teams of two people each to make presentations about the Greek mythology in the arts and about the monuments of Ancient Greece.".

So Narcissa and Bella were picked to do the presentation about the myths featured in the arts. And me and Lilly had to make the one about the monuments. These tasks were given on Tuesday last week (3rd of October).

Fast forward to the evening of Friday (the 6th of October) when I got sick. For two days and a half I had a fever and couldn't get out of bed (believe me this is relevant).

Originally the presentations were for Tuesday (the 10th of October), but I was still ill and didn't go to school. However, I was feeling a lot better on Wednesday. So when i woke up I started working on the presentation. I wrote about Athens, the Acropolis, the Parthenon and Sparta and made the Powerpoint presentation with the pictures and everything.

Over the next two days I wrote about Alexandria, the Library of Alexandria and about the lighthouse of Alexandria. Lilly wrote about Theba, Ephesus, Pergam and the mausoleum in Halicarnas.

 Also the other two girls had done their presentation while i was sick and, as I found out from Lilly, it was only five minutes long. And sure enough I'm thinking "We're putting so much effort into this! We're gonna crush them!" and I start working even harder and feel even more motivated than I already was.

So anyway, Friday the 13th comes, Lilly and I are ready to present our work, that had taken us THREE WHOLE DAYS, we have overcome the technical problems and everything is ready.

The first two hours on Friday we had Informatics. Literature was our third class. So we walk into the classroom, both overwhelmed and anxious because the teacher is awful and scary, and over the ten-minute break we set my laptop up, connect it to the projector – you know, all the technical stuff..

And then the bell rings. The teacher walks in and Lilly and I are already on the board, ready to start. Then the teacher gives us a nasty, poisonous look and says "Sit down, first we have to do some work". We do so and it's finally our turn to talk.  And please, note that until the end of the class there were 25 minutes left (this is also important).

So before we start two girls from another class get called in by the teacher to listen to us and see "how they should have done their presentation". Lilly starts by greeting everyone and introducing the topic. Then I read what I had written about Athens, the Acropolis and the Parthenon. Just as I was about to continue about Sparta,  it happened. The teacher interrupted me with the words "Okay, that's enough! You should have made your presentation much shorter! This is not the way you should have done it! Why didn't you tell us about every pebble in Athens?! Your classmates are bored and don’t want to listen to you anymore!".And that was said with the nastiest tone EVER. Now, I wasn’t really looking at my classmates because I’m usually horrified of speaking in front of an audience bigger than 10 people… But I couldn’t help myself but think “Are my classmates bored, or are you?”. The presentation wasn't even that long! It was 15 slides – this is totally appropriate! Plus, I did my part of the project under my mother's guidance, as the woman does a sh** load of presentations, because she's a professor in university. So she f***ing knows how it’s done!

So the crappy teacher makes us pass on to something else. We had a lot more things we'd written about, and we read about two sentences about each, as she was rudely interrupting us and making us go faster. Then she told us to sit down. And I could already feel the tears in my eyes and I was trying super hard not to cry and to not have a mental breakdown in front of the whole class. Meanwhile Umbridge was explaining to us that it should've been shorter, that we should've presented it in FIVE minutes etc.

But the thing is she had given us this plan with all those cultural monuments and she didn't tell us to pick just one! Or even just two! She told us to "make a presentation about the most famous monuments of Ancient Greece" – in general. And that's exactly what we did! First of all, it is impossible to present all that in only five minutes. Second of all, she didn't specify she wanted it to be five minutes long. I AM NOT A BLOODY MIND READER OR PSYCHIC OR SOMETHING!!! GET YOUR SH** TOGETHER MRS. UMBRIDGE!!!

Then she proceeded to humiliate me and Lilly, saying we didn't follow her instructions properly and was asking the class to confirm she had, in fact, specified about the bloody five minutes. Everyone said "Yes", because she was already really mad with us and the others didn't want to make it worse. And do have in mind that I was legitimately tearing up at this point. So the teacher asked me "Why are you reacting in such a manner, Antonia? Why are you so upset? That happens when you don't follow my instructions properly. You've no right to be upset!". So naturally I said that I'm not upset, but my trembling voice gave me away. So Mrs. Umbridge says "Yes, you are upset. You're crying." in front the whole class. Like I wasn’t humiliated enough already! While she was talking I managed to take a deep breath and answer "Nope. I'm fine".

As I said, when we started with the presentation  we had about 25 minutes left ‘til the end of the class. With Lilly we wouldn't have taken more than 15-20 minutes tops. In reality we were up in front of the class for less than 10 minutes. Then Mrs. Umbridge spent around 15 minutes being disappointed form us for “disobeying” her. Did she realize that for those 15 minutes we could’ve finished with our bloody presentation?!?

So anyway, finally she turned to Narcissa and Bella and tells them "Lilly and Antonia were better during their presentation than you." And Narcissa said she knew that. Then Mrs. Umbridge said "Nevertheless, I'm going to give you girls A's and Lilly and Antonia get only pluses." Now, I don’t mean to be rude but… What the actual f**k?!? I don't have any problems with Narcissa,  nor with Bella, but they’re both kinda lazy and careless when it comes to such things. And I knew that their presentation was very badly put together. And after the class with the monster, they admitted that they had worked on it for about only 30 minutes and had only four sentences. Again, what the f**k??? Lilly and I are busting our a**es for THREE FULL DAYS to put our “lecture” together properly and we only get pluses?!? While the girls with the sloppy lecture get A’s??? PISS OFF!!! This is not okay. Also, have in mind that this teacher is so terrifying that we were both legitimately trembling!  I hate classes with her. I love Literature as a subject, but I am genuinely terrified of her. Just like Neville was terrified of Snape. That woman is my boggart… AND THIS IS NOT OKAY!!!

Mrs. Umbridge is the reason why I want to become a teacher one day – so I can be one of those really cool teachers who communicate normally with the kids. I wand to be a teacher to make sure that there isn’t even one kid who’s afraid of a teacher!

By the way, do you realize what else this horrible woman did? As my mom later said, the teacher offended everyone. Me and Lilly, because, first of all she was constantly interrupting us. Second of all, she tried to explain to us that things should be done sloppy and at the last moment. Then she offended the whole class, by explaining to us how they all “got bored”, and finally -  Bella and Narcissa by telling them that their presentation basically… sucked. This is not how you treat kids. It's not okay. Just because you have some power over a group of people, even if it consists of children, you are allowed to torment them.

When you get a little bit of power over someone and treat them awfully, dominate them and act as if they’re lower forms of life than you, that speaks volumes about you as a person. It shows how pathetic you actually are! And, for people like Mrs. Umbridge, who feel the need to show their power over CHILDREN  (I can not stress this enough) and make them afraid to go into class – I’ve no words to describe them.  This woman is also an awful teacher – just like Umbridge herself. She makes a plan for each lesson, dictates a few things that we should write down on the sheet of paper and makes us study it. She literally once said “I do not want you to have your own opinions when it comes to literature. When you think on your own you make mistakes. That’s why you’ll be studying by the plans I give and dictate to you!”. I really hate to reapeat myself but… What the actual f**k???

Another time me and my BFF went up to Mrs. Umbridge to ask her why she hadn’t put Poseidon next to all the other major Gods (we are studying Greek mythology) and she says “Poseidon is a minor God just like the Oceanides and  Triton”. HELLO, HAVE YOU EVEN READ THE GREEK MYTHOLOGY?!? It is specifically said that Poseidon is equal with his brothers Zeus and Hades – they are the Big Three Gods (I’m getting off topic again, sorry). Of course I could say that people like that are a part of the school system that wants to literally produce identical people who aren’t able to think outside of the box, don’t have any imagination and are, overall, identical etc. etc., but I feel like this is a totally different topic.

Anyway, I had a bit of a lyrical deviation here. Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. Mrs. Umbridge gave Bella and Narcissa A’s. At that point there were like 10-fifteen minutes left until the end of this bloody Hell. So she proceeded with giving us back the tests we had done week and a half before all that (maybe a bit irrelevant, but oh well). And I was still fighting with the need to burst out crying, by the way.

Anyway, after the class my mom came to school to take my laptop home ‘cause it was heavy and stuff. Now imagine me walking down the street to the spot where my mum had parked her car and crying my eyes out, because I finally had the opportunity to.. Pathetic, right? Though I wasn’t crying because I was sad or upset or something – I was angry and I was feeling sort of… victimized? I was angry because I had worked so hard for literally days, just to be told that, and those are Mrs. Umbridge’s exact words “Quantity doesn’t necessarily equal quality. You should learn to accept criticism!” Excuse me? We had quantity but we also definitely had quality! The fact that you were in a crappy mood or had a bad day or whatever, or you were determined to make our day a living Hell and didn’t want to bloody listen to us, doesn’t mean that we did not have quality! For God’s sake, you didn’t even listen to half of the things we said! Given that, how can you form an opinion?!? Besides, I am able to take criticism. Just as long it’s not pointless and it’s constructive. Key word – constructive. But in this case the criticism was anything but constructive! I was f***ing pissed off because I had worked really hard and my bloody effort was not appreciated! THAT is what pissed me off!

Mrs. Umbridge has also been been very unfair with my BFF.

My friend Luna and a classmate of hers, Lizzie, had to do the presentation about the mythology fetured in the arts. Naturally they presented sculptures and paintings by well-known painters. And of course they had also put tons of effort into finding the pictures and thinking of what exactly to say. And what did Mrs. Umbridge tell them? That they should have presented modern art inspired by the Greek mythology. WTF??? I WANNA THROW THAT WOMAN IN TARTARUS SO BAD!!

So yeah. Basically this is the story of how, after another nervous breakdown because of this shitty teacher, I decided to not give a f*** anymore.Besides, even though the whole rant was really angry, I think I actually managed to get the best out of this whole thing. I mean, I genuinely had a good time making the project and learning new things! :)

Hmmm... Maybe I used the word “presentation” too many times and I had a few “lyrical” deviations – sorry ‘bout that. XD I realize that probably nobody gives a damn about all that but I just needed to vent and rant, I guess. :)

P. S.: To whoever read this ‘til the end – thanks and sorry if I bored you to death. But I warned in the beginning that it was gonna be long. Also, if you have similar experiences – feel free to share your story!

Also… if you need to vent or just want to talk to someone  – you can message me anytime! :)))

P. S. 2: By the way, I sincerely hope the next story I share is gonna be a lot more amusing and a lot less angry! :)))

[awindowamirror]

Internship!!!

9/22/17

 I started my internship this week! I have been twice now, and am feeling pretty positively towards my experience at this moment in time. I say at this moment very specifically because as with many things in life, I have no idea what each day will bring. Also, my first day at my internship left me feeling very disappointed. Let me walk you through my first day (this will also be fun for posterity’s sake, because I imagine there will be a lot of growth in my position at this school).

So. School starts at 8 am, so I wake up at about 6:30, put clothes on and try to look moderately professional (I still wear a scrunchie every day here—I can’t change everything), and grab breakfast by about 6:45. It takes a bit to get food because things are just starting to wake up, and it seems like I will be one of the first faces people see in the morning. What a delight for all involved. My goal is to start walking to the junction where I catch my trotro (Okpongolo, if anyone cares) by 7:15 so I can be on a trotro at 7:30. Those are the logistics.

That first morning, everything went pretty smoothly, except I had been violently ill the evening before and discovered I was not entirely better once I took a bit of my oatmeal. No problem, I still had crackers left-over, so I packed those and went on my way. When I got to the junction, I was ready with the name of the junction I was going to, and I felt very confident in pronouncing it because it’s literally the letters SDA. That’s it. (It stands for Seventh Day Adventist, but everyone just says SDA.) Several mates approached me to ask me where I was going and they all looked confused when I said, “SDA junction.” One of them ushered me into his trotro anyways, so I assumed all was well. 20 minutes into the ride, after I had already paid, he asked me again where I was going, and I repeated “SDA” SO MANY TIMES wondering how on earth I could be saying letters wrong, and then EVERY SINGLE PERSON on the trotro (all people commuting to work at this time of day) repeated the letters the way I was saying them, trying to make sense of it.

Eventually, the man next to me said, “What is there that you’re going to?” and I told him the name of the school. Then he went “OHHHHHHH! SDA!!!!!” And I was like “YES!!!!” And then everyone on the trotro understood, and then the mate said, “Bus stop!” and we pulled over (not at SDA junction) and he hailed another trotro for me and put me inside it, so I inferred that I had been on the wrong trotro. I was so confused. Looking back, it was hilarious, and very clear to me that I was already developing a severe fever that then lasted the rest of the day.

Anyways, I ended up safely at the school, and have since practiced saying SDA the way Ghanaians do, so I feel a little like I’m mocking their accents, but people understand me, so I guess all is well.

Tot-to-Teen is a school that, as you can imagine, serves all ages until high school—I’ve been told that there are about 800 students enrolled this year, which is so cool to me because the school does not seem that big. It’s a very nice school—all the buildings are painted a friendly color of orange, and to get anywhere, you walk outside, so the whole space feels very open (very common here because the weather is so nice). The courtyard includes a basketball court, a fenced in playground filled with tots in multicolored uniforms, and an open space that is often filled with students playing football (soccer) in between classes.

I started on a Wednesday, and on Wednesday mornings, the whole school has Worship for about an hour. I was not expecting this. I walked in at about 7:50 am, proud that I was on time (most of you know this is rare), and saw students swarming around a pile of stools to set up outside like a church. The upper school and lower school have separate worships, but still, almost every space that is usually open had a student and a stool occupying it. I was thinking, ok, church, this will be interesting to watch but a lil boring probably.

Nope. There was singing, there was dancing, there was drumming, there was call and response built into the sermon…there was even a saxophone player, who I found out later is a member of a student fellowship at the University of Ghana, so represent! The students seemed genuinely into it, which I was really impressed by—I feel like I remember my friends begrudgingly going to church and barely being able to sit through it for boredom, so U.S. churches maybe have a few things to learn (just maybe).

After worship, the teacher I’ll be working with, Klenem (that’s his last name, but that is what I’ve been told to call him), said, “Come,” and so I followed him to a classroom already filled with seated students. When we walked in, they all stood up and said, “Good morning, sir,” in unison, which really took me aback for some reason. This was my first introduction to the very formal relationship of students and teachers here (although there are some exceptions to this relationship that I’m already starting to notice, just not in a classroom setting).

Klenem told them, “This is Miss Holly. She is our visitor. Miss Holly is from the U.S. and will be helping us with English. What is her name?” And the whole class chorused, “Miss Holly. You are welcome here.” (One little note: that’s one of my absolute favorite things about being in Ghana—almost everywhere you go, one you’re introduced, people say, “You are welcome here.” It feels so sincere, I don’t know. I love it, it touches me every time.) Klenem inspected the students, still standing, and critiqued a few for how they were standing or if they looked tired, and then pointed to empty chairs and asked where that person was. Then, the students sat down and Klenem pointed to an empty seat and told me to sit there.

I was absolutely shocked at this point. I had just walked into a room where students call adults (and me) “sir” and “miss”, I had been introduced by another person, and then told to sit down before I could even say a word. I don’t know, I thought maybe I’d get to say why I came to Ghana or that I love cats or something else that would give the students a tiny glimpse into my personality. I sat down, hoping that my smile helped them understand a piece of what Miss Holly is like, and assuring myself I’d get to talk to students later in the day.

Nope. That class period was full of dictation. Dictation for definitions, dictation to help with pronunciation, dictation for exercises AND homework…it was wild. My brain really does not work like that, or at least, it does not like working like that, but I guess that is how classrooms are run here, the good ‘ole British model. I’m sorry, I know this sounds really judgmental, I just cringe when I picture being young with so many ideas and so much energy and creativity and then being crushed into class after class where your ability to obey orders and memorize definitions is what is valued. I know our education system in the U.S. is far from catering to every learning style, but I’ve been so lucky in my life to have teachers who cater to as many learning styles as they can, and that has really shaped my education in a positive way. Ok. That’s all I’ll say about that right now.

After the class, I sat in the teachers’ lounge grading the exercises the students had just completed, and a couple of the teachers asked me what I thought of Donald Trump. I knew it would come eventually, it’s a very valid question. I made a face, and asked them what they thought of Trump. They all smiled big amused smiles and said things along the lines of, “Oh, I like him, he’s so wild, you never know what he’s going to do.” One teacher even said, “He wants to build a wall. He’s right to build a wall, that’s the only way to truly keep out terrorists, which is a huge problem in the U.S.” Oh. Ok. No.

I was so surprised. So surprised. I also realized that day that it was the first time I had to explicitly explain why Trump is neither a go leader nor a good person. Most people I talk to, at least in the U.S., have at least a basic understanding of issues surrounding Trump, even if they agree with him privately. I felt like when I was explaining my thoughts (based on facts), the teachers were all laughing at me. I think this is partly a cultural need to avoid conflict, but I couldn’t help but think it was at least somewhat because I am a woman with very strong opinions, and they aren’t used to that and don’t like that. I should mention almost all of my colleagues are male. I think I’ve seen a total of three other women on staff at the school, only one of them a teacher.

Three of the teachers seemed to lose interest in my rant and went about their own business, but one stayed to talk it out with me. He’s younger than the rest, and is perhaps more receptive to new ideas (I apologize-- though that is an ageist explanation, I think it may be true in this particular situation). He asked me follow-up questions to my explanations and genuinely seemed to give what I was saying some thought. At the end of our conversation, he said, “But you’re very biased. I can’t be sure of anything you’ve told me.” I said that that was a fair statement, and encouraged him to look into it more himself. Who knows if he will, but I said my piece. It’s very difficult for me to understand how people who are not welcome in “Trump’s America” can still support him. Oh, and I recommended two books to him in hopes that they build his empathy for targeted groups in the U.S. (Homegoing and Americanah, if you’re interested.)

After this conversation, it really hit me how sick I felt. Remember that fever I mentioned earlier? So I got the hell out of there, feeling exhausted and disappointed that I hadn’t been able to interact with any students apart from Jessie, the girl who showed me where the washroom is (thanks, girl!). I got on a trotro right away, but because it was the middle of the day, it took forever to fill up so we ended up sitting at various stops for several minutes at a time, and it took about 40 minutes to get home. When I got off at Okpongolo, I literally thought I was going to die. My whole body was aching and I was freezing even though I knew it had to be almost 90 degrees outside.

I climbed straight into bed and slept for a couple hours at a time until around 6 pm, when my friends brought me a muffin to see if my stomach could handle it. I’m not exaggerating, you guys, at this point I had had a fever most of the day, and I think it is the worst fever I’ve ever had in my life. I could barely walk, and this was after vomiting the night before, so I had NOTHING left in my stomach and I was freezing and oh my gosh sorry I’m complaining, but it was truly awful. One of the student aids in our program asked me if I had been sleeping with my mosquito netting on, so I was like good god, he thinks I have malaria.

Nope! I do not! That was just a dreadful day, but I had hot chocolate (it’s the best of the best here) and a cold shower (gotta confuse the fever—am I hot or cold??? If you don’t know, you can’t get me!), and went to bed knowing I’d wake up ok (knowing is synonymous with hoping to me). And I did wake up ok! And then I had a great day at the beach. So watch out.

Today, I went back to my internship, and it started out with just grading and observing in the classroom, but then when Klenem and I walked out of one class, he said, “Holly, can you do that?” I didn’t really understand what he meant. “Teach?” I asked. “Yes, teach that. Can you teach what I just did?”

I said yes, yes of course, though the truth of that answer is debatable. You’ll be happy to know it went just fine—I taught about 40 7th graders for about an hour, which I am very proud of. I am less proud of the lesson content; they’re currently working on auxiliary verbs, so I got to explain the differences between may and can, and need to and must. True story. But, hey, I TAUGHT. I taught for my very first time in a formal classroom setting, so there. SO THERE. Making moves.

I also have been given the task of reading the book they’re currently working on and coming up with questions about it. The examples Klenem gave me were, where does the story take place? Or, what is the main character’s name? But I’m thinking more along the lines of what is the effect of having a male narrator in a novel that revolves around a woman’s personal story? Because actually, what the hell is that? They’re literally going to fire me haha.

This has been lengthy again, sorry! I hope it’s been somewhat interesting hearing what my experience with Ghanaian school has been so far. Thank you so much for taking the time to read, it really means a lot to me.

[btshodown]

Remember You (Pt. 2) M

↳ You’re just trying to get by and stay the course, but Jin has other plans in mind for you. Maybe going to that party on Saturday wasn’t such a great idea after all.   

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader Genre/Warnings: Fuckboy!Jin AU, Angst, Smut || Thigh riding, Oral (F & M receiving), Throat fucking, Big dick Jin cause ofc, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Dirty talk, Dom Jin, Slightly dom reader, Slight praise kink Word Count: 11k+

➭ Ahahaha....I’m back! FINALLY this chapter is done and it pains me to say that there’s one final part after this, instead of the original 2 parts I was going for. :’) I’m so sorry this took so long, a lot of stuff came up these months and I only ever worked on this fic like once a month. But finally, FINALLY its done. Its past 3 am and I need to wake up in less than 3 hours, but its finally finished. :’)))) Anyway, enjoy this filthy, angsty chapter! And also thanks again to my lovely best friend Admin RD for helping me out with this. <333

“What do you think about this one?”

 You ignore Yoongi’s obvious boredom as you hold up another Mario figurine to show him, wanting his opinion on whether it’d be a good gift to give to Seokjin. Despite Yoongi occasionally hanging out with Seokjin and the other guys from your job, he was the only one you saw outside of work. Both of your sense of dry humor had bonded the two of you before you became supervisor. In those days, Yoongi and you usually worked together in the slow night shift since neither of you liked waking up early.

 The only flaw to your friendship was the fact that he was also friends with Seokjin. At any opportunity you would constantly ask him why he was even friends with someone like him. Granted, Yoongi wasn’t some model student either and would sometimes miss classes or turn up late, but he always handed in his homework and got good marks on quizzes. He actually worked hard for his diploma and now for his degree in music production. Along with the fact that he didn’t rely on his parents to pay for his tuition or rent; you both lived poor together at least.

 “It looks the same as the last one. Honestly, y/n-noona, why are you suddenly so hung up on Jin-hyung?” At this, Yoongi finally looks at you with confusion and curiosity in his eyes, noticing your cheeks dusting with pink. “Just last week you were ranting about how you caught him making out with Jiae-ssi.”

 You avert your eyes from his stare, choosing instead to glance at the different Mario figurines lined up against the wall of the Nintendo store you were in. It was Wednesday now and you hadn’t seen Seokjin at work since the incident on Monday that led to the weird deal he had proposed. Yesterday was his day off and today was yours, tomorrow and Friday you didn’t work the same shift; so that left Saturday. Both of you had that day off and the anticipation to see what he had planned for you was maddening.

 Part of you hoped that something would happen and whatever that tension was inside the closet would continue. The other part of you wanted nothing to do with Seokjin the fuckboy. It’s as you always said; nothing good could ever come out of falling for someone like him.

 So then why are you buying him a present?

 You ignore that intrusive thought with a scowl as you let out a sigh, and turn to Yoongi once he nudges your arm impatiently, waiting for an answer you didn’t have. “Because I was raised to bring gifts when invited to a birthday party?”

 The deadpan expression on the younger man’s face has you grimacing, knowing that pathetic excuse wouldn’t fool him. You honestly couldn’t give him a straight answer without discovering something you didn’t want to. If it was possible, you wanted to never go down that road of self-discovery and opt to forever remain oblivious to the answer. Otherwise your heart and sanity wouldn’t come out intact.

 “Can you just help me decide what to give the bastard instead of interrogate me,” you grumble out as you put back the figurine you had in your hands. “You’re actually friends with the guy, that’s why I brought you with me in the first place.”

 “About that,” the black haired male begins as he absentmindedly grabs a box that had Princess Peach inside, “how did you even find out that Jin-hyung likes Mario?”

 The question catches you off guard and has you nearly dropping the Fire Flower suit Mario figurine; thankfully Yoongi is quick to catch it before it could hit the floor. You mumble a quick thank you as you feel the shop owner giving you the evil eye from across the counter. The old coot had been eyeing the two of you since the very beginning and you had a feeling that Seokjin wasn’t the only one with a Mario obsession.

 “It was brought up once when we closed,” you start off slowly, not wanting to slip up and reveal that the conversation had sprung up because you had seen the broad shouldered man topless. Imagine your shock when you not only see him taking his work shirt off one night when you closed, but also seeing a tattoo of the Super Mario star on his right pec.

 Oh, Seokjin teased you endlessly that whole week because of your reaction. You were sure that all the blood rushed to your face as you had stared slack jawed at the perfection that was his torso, before you had begun shrieking for him to put his shirt back on. The only saving grace of that night was that the blonde haired man would never find out about you masturbating to the thought of coloring his skin in hickies and scratches. You had thankfully gotten it out of your system by a week and were able to look him in the eye, but after what happened on Monday…well, the image once more found itself replaying on your mind.

 “You know, despite his narcissism…Jin-hyung isn’t a bad guy.”

 “Huh?” His sudden statement has you turning to face him in confusion as Yoongi silently hands you the porcelain figurine of the Fire Flower Mario you almost dropped.

 “I’m just saying that you should give him a chance. He isn’t as bad as you make him out to be,” his voice had gone soft as he glances over to you and sticks his hands inside his jeans pockets.

 Normally you would have dismissed his statement; it was something that he periodically brought up with you when you’d ask why he was friends with the guy, but this time there was a certain gleam in his eyes. The kind of gleam you recognized by now that meant he knew something you didn’t. It gave you pause as you stare down at the figurine in your hands, rolling it around in your palms so that Mario’s eyes bore into yours. You trusted Yoongi. It would be an insult not to after all you two had been through.

 But could you afford to take his word for it about Seokjin?

 With a shake of your head, you outright ignore his previous words and make your way to the counter to purchase the Fire Flower Mario. “I think this one is fine. Do you want to go grab food after this before your shift starts?”

 Yoongi regards you for moment with blank eyes; before he lets out a sigh and lets you get away without answering him. “Yeah, I’m starving since this crazy woman dragged me out of my bed at 9 am.”

 You let out a scoff to hide your giggle as you playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand and then place the figurine on the counter, taking out your wallet to pay the old shop keep. A few hours later you find yourself dropping Yoongi off at work and making your way home to wrap up the small porcelain Mario into a pink box. Making sure to wrap it with some newspaper to assure it wouldn’t break inside. Along with accompanying you to buy Jin’s present, Yoongi also let you know how the older man liked the color pink when you were choosing something to put the present in.

 Honestly, you weren’t expecting Seokjin to actually like the color pink, he didn’t seem the type, but at the same time it didn’t surprise you. As you came to learn over the past year, Seokjin had hidden traits about him that he hid from the public eye.

 You place the neatly wrapped pink box onto your kitchen counter with a thoughtful expression on your face, glancing over to your phone as Yoongi’s earlier words about Seokjin bounce around your head. Should you trust your friend on this? Would it turn out to be worth the risk?

 Suppose you’d find that out on Saturday night.

 “I don’t think I want to go anymore.”

 “What? Why?”

 You let go of the shirt you had in your hands and fall on your butt, groaning pathetically into the phone that had your best friend on the other line. She had been with you since high school and it was only the distance of her university that kept you apart. As much as it pained both of you, she left a year after high school to a university that was a few cities down. She’d still visit every holiday she had, but it wasn���t often since she was a good five hours away. It was the reason why you began hanging out with Yoongi so much.

 “Because I have nothing to wear,” you whine out pitifully and once hearing her scoff, your voice lowers to a softer pitch, “and what if all he has planned is just trying to have sex with me?”

 It shouldn’t have, but that thought alone made your heart constrict painfully. You knew it was true, you knew that by “fun” all Seokjin meant was having sex and getting drunk. You knew better than to try and foolishly believe he’d truly stop his horrendous lifestyle just to show you how “fun” his party could be. You knew that all he wanted from you was your body; something he’d never been able to achieve. It was probably all a game to him, a challenge he must of set for himself ever since you got hired. You knew.

 So then why did it hurt no less knowing it?

 “What’s so bad about that?” You finally hear your best friend reply and you hold the urge to let out another groan. “You haven’t gotten laid in so long and I bet even your vibrator isn’t as satisfying anymore – ”

 Your face quickly colors itself in red as you splutter out a reply, a mix of her name and a whine of embarrassment, but she ignores you and continues on.

 “ – Plus, if you really claim to not like Jin, but aren’t blind to see how hot he is, why not go for it? What do you have to lose?”

 You stay silent as you look at your clothes, contemplating her words as your face finally cools down, but you know that arguing with her would be fruitless. She had a point and you finally grumble out how there wasn’t much for you to lose. Maybe if you did end up having sex with Jin, you’d finally be sated and hopefully whatever the mess of emotions you had would finally be put to rest. Because you honestly couldn’t carry on with how things were right now.

 “Fine,” you let out a sigh as you stand up from you closet floor and resume shifting through your clothes. “I’ll go, but I still don’t know what to wear.”

 “Well, you still have that outfit I bought for you five months ago. You can wear it with the gold bands and pink booties you hardly wear.”

 Your eyes quickly fall to the end of your closet, where you kept most of your revealing outfits that your best friend convinced you to buy. She was always the more outgoing one of you two and there was a time you did enjoy some clubs and bars, but only because she was always with you. Now that she hardly came, you usually found yourself having lazy days by yourself or with Yoongi. Those outfits seldom saw the light of day anymore.

 But the outfit she had in mind had you blushing. It wasn’t so much revealing, but it hugged your figure to the point that it really didn’t leave much to the imagination. You might as well have chosen to go with just your undergarments.

 “I am not wearing that thing to his party! I might as well go naked!”

 “If the night plays out well, hopefully you will be naked,” she once again ignores your splutter of protest and continues on with a tone full of smug satisfaction. “Come on just imagine Seokjinnie’s reaction when he sees you walk through his door in that baby.”

 Your teeth catch your bottom lip as you nibble onto the flesh in contemplation. You couldn’t deny the temptation of dressing up in something provocative and watching Seokjin’s wide eyed gaze never stray from your body. The only person to ever really see you wear such clothes besides your best friend was Yoongi, and even he had appreciated the way your body looked.

 “Fine! Fine, I give. I’ll wear it and then tell you all the details tomorrow,” you let out a giggle as you hear your friend’s squeal on the phone and with a promise that you’ll call her, you finally hang up to start getting ready.

 A new surge of excitement has you chucking the outfit out of your closet and onto your bed, before you begin undressing to go shower. With a quick glance at your clock, you jump into the shower and start planning out your make-up and hair. Yoongi would come by to pick you up in two hours, so you had plenty of time to make sure you left your apartment looking as amazing as you could.

 You’d make sure that Seokjin would never forget this night.

 Any nerves you felt during the silent car ride and walking up the steps to Seokjin’s rather lavish looking apartment complex, completely disappeared the moment you traipsed through his door. You won’t deny that feeling the eyes of many men and even women had your confidence sky rocketing through the roof. Sure, Yoongi had stared at you and even kept giving you once overs while in the car, but you hadn’t taken his actions to heart. It wouldn’t have been the first time that you caught his gaze.

 Now, however, you felt excitement course through your veins as your eyes scan the crowd, easily picking up your coworkers amongst the writhing bodies. Although, you frown a bit as you can’t see a certain broad shouldered birthday boy and your hands unconsciously hold onto his small present closer to your body. Surely he had to be somewhere in here.

 “Do you want to come with me to grab some drinks?”

 You turn to Yoongi, unperturbed by how his lips brushed your hair as to have you hear him over the booming music and nod your head. You’d need all the help you could tonight, but by no means were you going to let yourself get drunk. You usually never exceeded two drinks when you’d go out; only needing those two to help relax your body and mind enough to enjoy any social function.

 Yoongi carefully maneuvers through the crowd with his arm wrapped around your waist, making sure not to lose you as you made your way into the spacious kitchen. As you step onto the tiled floor, your eyes scan the kitchen and you can’t help, but feel slight bitter jealousy at how nice Seokjin’s apartment was. Your little studio seemed like a cardboard box compared to his might-as-well-be-pent-house home.

 Damn him and his parents’ wealth.

 “Hey Yoongi-hyu – whoa!”

 You’re brought back to reality as you hear the exclamation and turn to find Hoseok standing there, one of the morning baristas you didn’t see as often, practically devouring your figure. A hot blush finds its way onto your cheeks as his dark eyes finally meet yours and that’s when he realizes who he’s looking at and mimics your blush.

 “I’m so sorry noona, I didn’t…if I would have known – it’s just you look really different.” It was a bit endearing to see him turn into a stuttering mess as he apologizes for his blatant staring. Hoseok was always one of the nicer friends Jin had. That’s not to say that the others weren’t nice, but Hoseok himself was usually a gentleman and very warm. How he was Jin’s friend also crossed your mind a lot.

 “It’s okay Hoseok-ah, really,” you manage to get out as a small smile adorns your face. Your hands nervously run down your black leather, high-waisted pants and as you glance down at your outfit you easily understand why Hoseok didn’t recognize you. No one besides Yoongi had ever seen you outside of your uniform and usual ponytail. This time, you followed your friend’s advice and wore the outfit she had bought for you a few months back. Along with the skin tight pants, you wore a long sleeved, high neck pink crop top that was sheer with darker pink lace to cover up your breasts and parts of your back; your matching soft pink booties completed your outfit for the night.

 You tried convincing yourself that you wearing pink was completely coincidence and not a ploy to make Seokjin’s eyes never leave you for the entirety of the night.

 “Was there something you needed besides ogling Y/n-noona, Hobi?”

 At Yoongi’s teasing tone, Hoseok’s ears turn red as he coughs into his hand before bringing up his red solo cup to his lips. It was odd, but the younger man almost seemed…guilty for getting caught looking at you and it made you turn a questioning look to your friend, who ignored you completely.

 “Uh, yeah. Jin-hyung was wondering if you had come already, but guess I just found his answer,” Hoseok replies a bit hesitantly as his eyes quickly flickered to you before moving back to Yoongi.

 “Yeah, we came a few minutes ago and decided to grab some drinks.”

 As the two young men began to talk amongst themselves, you busied yourself in grabbing a cup with some ice and making your way over to the giant orange cooler to pour whatever alcohol was housed in it. The strangely blue liquid left a lot to be desired, but with a careless shrug, you take a big gulp of it to ease the sudden nerves racking your body. What had Hoseok meant by that Seokjin was wondering if Yoongi was here or not? Did he know that Yoongi was going to pick you up? Surely not, unless your black haired friend was planning something with the older man.

 With that thought in mind, you move your gaze to Yoongi, slightly narrowing your eyes in suspicion as Hoseok and him lowered their voices to talk about something they clearly didn’t want you listening in on. Just what on earth was that fucker up to now?

 The younger of the two catches your gaze and before you can redirect your stare, Hoseok gives you a little grin. “Hey y/n-noona, you wanna go dance?”

 “Um, sure,” you reply a bit perplexed at his sudden offer, “I don’t mind dancing.”

 You tip your head back to finish off the remnants of your drink and set down the cup before walking over to Yoongi, handing over the small present box you had. “Do me the favor, yeah?”

 With a roll of his eyes, he lets out a dramatic sigh, but takes the gift away from you nonetheless. “Sure, I’ll just be here drinking by myself I guess.”

 It was your turn to roll your eyes as you walk off with Hoseok and throw Yoongi a quick wave, knowing he’d honestly rather not socialize despite his dramatics. As you make your way to the middle of the writhing bodies you couldn’t help, but to glance around the room to look for the elusive birthday boy. You had honestly expected him to be in the middle of the fray, but so far you hadn’t seen him anywhere. You tried to push away the sudden thought of him tucked away in his room with some random girl as the simple fleeting image made your stomach twist in knots.

 Your restless thoughts are halted, however, when you feel Hoseok’s hand wrap around your wrist; easily bringing you a mere few inches away from him as he throws you a warm smile. His lithe body was already effortlessly swaying to the beat of the music playing on the speakers and with a little wiggle of your hand; he had you moving with him as well. Dancing with the younger male was a lot easier than you had initially feared and for that you silently thanked him in your mind.

 “Can I be honest with you noona?” At his question, he leans down to your ear to make it easier to hear him over the music and continues. “I’m surprised you finally came to one of Jin-hyung’s parties. What changed?”

 “I was invited,” came your dry response before you could stop it and it brought a smirk to your face when Hoseok genuinely laughed at it. It was true though; before this ridiculous offer Seokjin had made to you, not once had he ever invited you to his parties. It was something you had grown accustomed to ever since you knew him back in high school and re-met him at the café.

 An odd expression crosses Hoseok’s face once his laughter fades away and just as he’s about to reply back to you, you suddenly feel very familiar warm hands settle on your waist. It was as if you had been touched by live wire by how your body physically reacted to him; his touch alone sent currents of electricity racing through your veins as his palms managed to find purchase on the small amount of skin shown between your pants and crop top. You wanted to turn around and snap at him to not touch you so intimately, but your resolve crumbled the moment you felt his hot breath fan over the side of your face as his lips teasingly ghosted over the top of your ear.

 “I’ve been looking for you.”

 Lord give me the strength. I don’t think I’ll survive tonight.

 You weren’t sure what expression Seokjin had, but one glance at Hoseok told you it was akin to “get lost” as the younger man gave you one last warm smile before disappearing back into the crowd. No doubt to find a new dancing partner now that his older friend stole his and it made you longingly glance at the spot he once was, wishing he’d come back to save you from the onslaught of anxiousness that overtook you.

 However, you’re quickly brought back to reality as you feel Seokjin’s hands suddenly begin to trail upwards, just shy of touching the underside of your breasts, and hastily grab hold of them with a small intake of breath. Just what the hell was he thinking?! With a pinch on both of his hands, you swiftly turn on your heel to face him as a scowl adorns your rose tinted lips, but the blush no doubt decorating your cheeks took away from your angry expression.

 “What the hell are you doing? Don’t touch me like that!”

 His only response was an infuriating smirk as he reaches forward to grab hold of your wrist, his eyes unabashedly raking your figure, and the sudden dark glint in them had your toes curling in anticipation. “If I knew you dressed like this outside of work, I would have made this offer ages ago,” his voice was gruff with obvious lust and it had your thighs clenching almost instantly.

 Despite wanting to jump his bones right then and there, you let out a scoff and retrieve your hand back from him, taking a small step back mainly to control your sudden arousal. “Had I known you were even sleazier outside of work, maybe I would have never bothered coming in the first place.”

 A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest and it has the pit of your belly quivering at the sound, leaving you to miss his squeaky, window cleaning laugh you’ve heard on occasion. Anything to disrupt the scorching heat forming in your lower body would be a sweet relief, considering that now you had a full visual of his outfit; and oh lord, it had your lace panties sticking to your skin. Why did he have to look even sexier than normal? It wasn’t fair.

 Never in your life would you have imagined yourself finding a man more attractive simply because he let his forehead show. His blonde hair was slicked back; a complete 180 from his usual boy band style and it had your skin tingling from how clear you could see his brow and dark eyes. Not only that, but it seemed you two somehow wore similar outfits to one another and it made your heart flutter at how utterly gorgeous pink made him look. He was such a tease, even now, as his pink shirt has the top two buttons left open; leaving you a tantalizing view of his prominent collarbones.

 Lord have mercy on your soul; you were already wet just by looking at the beautiful bastard.

 “You love it, don’t try and deny it,” he teases back with a grin as he once more places his hands on your hips and brings you closer to him, forcing you to rest your own hands on his broad shoulders to avoid having them crushed against his chest.

 For a while, all you can do is stare up into his eyes as your lips stay pressed together; trying your best to hold back the agreement bubbling in your throat. You hated that he was right, that there was a pretty big part of you that enjoyed having Jin flirt with you and clearly make it obvious that he wanted you. Because damn, you wanted him just as bad; you’ve been wanting him for as long as you can remember. But it was always his lifestyle that had you steering clear of him.

 You don’t know when that started changing.

 “Weren’t you going to show me how to have fun?” you hear yourself murmur as your traitorous body moves closer to his, not missing how his breath hitched the moment your breasts pressed against his chest. You weren’t sure where this sudden rush of bravery came from, but you hold onto it as tightly as you can, already getting addicted to the blast of confidence coursing through your veins.

 You watch with fascination as his pupils expand, quite literally showing you his sudden arousal as he wraps an arm around your waist and grins wickedly. “Oh, I still plan to sweetheart,” his voice is gruff with lust as he teasingly brushes his lips against the corner of your mouth, leaving you momentarily breathless. “But we have to go somewhere more private. I’m not really an exhibitionist.”

 All the blood rushes to your cheeks and to the space between your legs at his straightforward answer, leaving you a mess of hormones as you turn your head slightly, not quite touching your lips to his as you glance up into his eyes. “What are we waiting for then?”

 It’s as if you said the magic words because Seokjin is suddenly pulling you with him as he maneuvers out of the sea of bodies and towards a door that must lead into the hallway. The logical side of your brain is screeching at you to turn away and just find Yoongi to ask him to take you home; but it’s easily drowned out by the carnal desires of the flesh once Seokjin pushes you through a door and locks it. He wastes no time in diving into your lips, practically devouring you whole as his large hands roam all over your body, squeezing whatever he could as if he was a man starved.

 After so long of wondering how his lips would feel on yours, having it actually happen had your stomach tying in knots as a shudder of pleasure passes through your spine, instantly having your nipples harden behind your shirt. They were softer and much more plush than you had ever imagined; it was if you were kissing clouds and it had your mind providing you with filthy images of how his lips would feel against your pussy.

 A low moan leaves you the moment you feel his knee suddenly push apart your thighs to snugly rest between them, teasingly leaning in so that it just barely brushed against your throbbing core. Once hearing the throaty sound leave you, Jin lets loose his own growl as he eagerly grabs your hips and brings you forward on his thigh, giving you the friction you so desperately needed. With a small keen leaving your lips, your own hands fist his shirt as you twist your hips to begin grinding yourself against his thigh, loving the pressure it applied against your clothed clit.

 “You love that don’t you,” Jin grunts out as his fingers clutch onto your clothed hips, but you could feel his heat burning you through them anyway as his hot breath fans against your mouth. “You act so innocent at work, but look at you. You’re already a mess with just my thigh.”

 Normally you would have smacked his arm, or given him a piece of your mind for being so smug, but when he suddenly clenched his thigh and hit your covered clit just right, it had all your angered thoughts cease. Your back thuds against the door as you let out a loud whine that sounded close to his name and let your nails bite into the skin on his forearms for leverage.

 “Oh god, Jin,” you let out a hitched breath as he continues to flex the muscle, sending your mind into a plethora of euphoria, “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

 The blonde male lets out a soft moan of appreciation for the soft pain of your nails digging into his skin and the way your kiss swollen lips parted to whine out his name so deliciously. Although, at your bossy tone, he couldn’t stop the violent twitch his clothed erection gave; he’d never admit to you that you taking charge was one of the hottest things he’s ever had to endure at work. He’s lost track of the amount of awkward boners he’s had to hide while closing with you, along with the number of times he’s had his hand wrapped around his cock in his car the moment he got inside it; too impatient to wait until he got home.

 But he loved teasing you and riling you up even more; loved to see how your ears tinted with red and your eyes set ablaze with anger or annoyance at one of his snarky remarks. He lived to push your buttons and see you screech at him; fruitlessly trying to disguise the obvious arousal in your eyes and the way you subtly tried to press your thighs together. He noticed it all and he reveled in it.

 “You’re really going to boss me around right now, sweetheart?” His husky tone has a fresh wave of arousal soak through your panties and begins to spread on your thighs, more so when his hands stop your grinding; leaving you a whining, panting mess. “Oh no. We’re not at work right now boss, you’re in my room and you’re going to play by my rules.”

 Suddenly, you’re left feeling cold as Seokjin pries his knee and body away from you, but not for long as you let out a startled squeal as you feel his large hands push down on your shoulders firmly. Too shocked and turned on to protest, you submissively kneel before him and eagerly press your thighs together as you see him begin to unbutton his pants. It wasn’t until that very moment that you finally take notice of the obvious and rather large bulge protruding from the center of his pants; the mere sight of what he’s hiding within their confines has your juices leaking down your thighs, unable to soak through your leather pants.

 You ignore the uncomfortable feeling almost instantly the moment his engorged cock nearly smacks you in the face the moment he slips his pants and underwear down past his thighs. A loud, desperate moan sounds about the room and you’re shocked to realize that needy sound came from you. However, you’re willing to forgive yourself for letting out such an embarrassing sound the moment your eyes devour the sight of quite possibly the prettiest and simultaneously hottest dick you’ve ever laid eyes on. This bastard was carved by the gods themselves, wasn’t he? It was the only explanation.

 It was thick with two protruding veins running on the underside of it, while the head was as red as a rose from how unbearably hard he was; that wasn’t even including the sheer size of it. You swore it came close to 8 inches, give or take at least 7 and for a moment a small amount of fear had you wondering if it would even fit. The biggest you ever had inside you was 6 inches and that had been a perfect fit, considering that it was also thick. Just what in the hell had you gotten yourself into?

 Jin quickly sees the hesitation in your eyes and with a smug smirk, he swiftly tangles his long fingers into your loosely curled hair and brings your forward; letting out a soft grunt the moment his leaking head brushed against your cheek. “Don’t even think about running now, boss,” he gently teases as his blown out eyes land on yours and once more pokes your cheek with the head of his cock, but then his tone turns soft with suppressed desire. “I’ll make sure to have your dripping wet for me before I fuck you. It’ll fit, or at least, I’ll make it fit.”

 Oh fuck, comes your mental reply as your teeth harshly entrap your lower lip and you have to physically swallow the desperate and wanton moan clawing at your chest. Your clit pulses erratically as your eyes leave his stare to lock onto the dick he was so graciously rubbing onto your cheek. Never in your life have you ever wanted to have someone’s cock in your mouth as badly as you did Seokjin’s right now; a notion you felt bitterly defeated in, but not particularly resentful for it. It made sense as to how cocky and narcissistic the young man always was; how could he not when he was drop dead gorgeous, but also had a big dick? Despite the unfairness of someone being so perfect physically, you couldn’t stop the slight warmth in your chest spread at the thought that someone like him actually wanted you.

 Without waiting for another filthy word to come out of his mouth, you quickly and eagerly open your mouth to wrap your lips around his leaking head; his sharp intake of breath giving you a quick ego boost. You give him no respite to get accustomed to your mouth when you give in to your desire and begin to suck and lick his member, one of your hands coming up to wrap around the base of his dick.

 “Shit, y/n,” was all he could groan out as his free hand slammed a bit loudly onto the door behind you to steady himself, although the action caused more of his cock to slide into your warm mouth and it had him letting out a soft whine. “Fuck, baby, your mouth feels so good around my cock.”

 Your eyes flicker up at his face twisted in pleasure beneath your lashes as the corner of your lips quirk into a triumphant smirk and place your other hand on his thigh to ground yourself as you slowly slid down on his erection, tongue pressing firmly against one of his veins. Soon, the only sounds ringing in the room were his whiny moans and the slurping noises you unashamedly didn’t try to hide. The distant bass of the music and the hum of voices outside the room and hall only set your core aflame, turned on by the sheer thought that you two weren’t really alone.

 Despite being surprised that Jin was actually a very vocal lover, you loved every second of your mouth sucking him off, if only to elicit another breathy whine from his lips. It was undoubtedly the hottest thing you had ever experienced and in spite of being on your knees, you felt in control and you felt the addicting power of having this normally smug man begging you to take him deeper into your mouth set your veins on fire.

 That is, until Jin got tired of your teasing sucks that pushed him close to the edge, but not enough to have him falling off of it. So with a soft growl of frustration at you denying his pleading again, he takes matter into his own hands as the hand still tangled in your hair grips hard enough to still you before he begins mercilessly fucking your mouth. Your throat encloses around his cock as you choke at the sudden intrusion and both your hands grip onto the flesh of his thighs to hold yourself steady as Seokjin’s ruthlessly thrusts into your mouth. You’re too shocked at the sudden shift in power to do anything about Jin using you like this, so you try your best to relax your gag reflex, but there was no way to control the tears beginning to leak down your cheeks at how unbearably hot this whole situation was.

 “You look so pretty with my cock stretching your lips princess,” Jin’s sudden gentle voice is such a huge contrast to his actions as he lets out a moan when he plunges into your throat and keeps you there, panting heavily as you choked slightly on his member. But he pulls back once he feels your nails bite harder into his thighs and silently admires how you greedily took in gulps of air, before once more prodding your lips open to take his erection again. “Shit, I’m getting close baby. You gonna swallow my cum like a good girl?”

 You let a guttural moan reverberate around his cock as you eagerly nod your head, so high off of the lack of oxygen his dick in your throat caused and you found you didn’t care how fucked out you probably looked. Not when Jin caressed your scalp and looked down at you with admiration and a blazing desire that had your walls clenching. You’d punish him for abusing your mouth in a moment, you thought to yourself, once he came in your mouth.

 “Such a good girl you are,” he murmurs softly as his thrusts slow down to a steady, but deep rhythm, making sure to elicit those beautiful choked moans of yours every time his cock hit deep into your throat.

 You can’t deny the flutter of your heart whenever he calls you a good girl and praises you softly for taking him in so well, but deeper, more darker thoughts of punishing him for making your throat raw fuel your actions. So it’s with precise sucks and flicks on your tongue on his head that has his fingers tangling in your locks painfully, as he begins to fuck your mouth again to chase his orgasm. His whiny moans and shaky pants has you shifting on your aching knees to once more clench your thoroughly drenched thighs, almost greedily swallowing every spurt of his seed he gave you.

 With a shuttering breath, he finally pulls his softening member out of your mouth and watches with blown out pupils as some of the white substance trickled down your chin. To your surprise, Jin gingerly picks you up off of the floor and begins kissing you reverently, his tongue now prodding against yours, causing a moan as he tasted himself. For a moment, you let yourself get carried away by his plump lips and his wandering hands as they snake underneath your shirt, making a sigh of pleasure leave you as he appreciatively cupped your breasts. You silently thank the hasty, last minute decision you made earlier to not wear a bra as his fingers begin to gently tweak your pearled nipples.

 “Jin,” you murmur as you pull away from his mouth with a lewd pop, continuing once you receive a content hum from him, “don’t think you’re getting away with abusing my throat like that.”

 At your sudden clipped words, Seokjin looks down at you with surprise and a hint of arousal in his irises, but before he can come up with a snarky reply, you walk him over to his queen sized bed you both ignored and with a forceful shove, have him falling onto his back. A smug smirk quirks your lips when you hear his startled grunt at being pushed and with quick, predatory movements, you begin to strip off your pants. Confidence flares brightly in your chest as you see his eyes widen and his pupils practically swallow his brown irises with fierce lust as he finally sees the mess he had made with his earlier actions.

 “Fuck, princess,” he moans out as eyes don’t move from staring at your juices slide down the inside of your thighs and your lace panties clinging to your drenched core like second skin. “You’re so fucking wet.”

 “You made this mess,” you reply back with authority in your voice, loving the new found confidence running through your veins at his open admiration for your body. “Now you’re going to clean it up.”

 Seokjin lets out an animalistic sounding growl from deep within his chest and it has your clit pulsing painfully from being neglected for so long. His predatory gaze nearly has you submitting to him again, but you hold on tightly to your dominance and once finally removing your shoes, you push his chest down as your thighs comfortably cage in his head. The image of Kim Seokjin underneath you would forever be burned onto your mind as one of the single most hottest things in your lifetime.

 “Gladly,” comes his husky response as he wastes no time in leaning up to take your swollen nub between his plump lips, ignoring how even his neck was getting wet with your arousal as your thighs caged him in.

 With a loud moan, you nearly lurch forward as Jin begins to generously suck on your clit, plush lips creating the most toe curling pleasure you’ve ever had that tears once more begin to trek down your cheeks. In the hazy fog of your mind, you’re eternally grateful for thinking ahead and wearing waterproof mascara and eyeliner. No doubt you would have looked like a hot mess otherwise, more than you already did.

 “Jin, oh Jin!” The voice that leaves your lips is one you can barely recognize, it sounded so breathless and whiny. “There! Don’t stop!”

 He only grunts in reply as his lips leave your clit, only for his tongue to swirl around your leaking entrance before penetrating your walls, loving how they clenched around the wet muscle as his nose bumped against your clit. A soft whimper leaves your own lips as your strength leaves you and has you completely sitting on his face, your hands finding purchase in his soft, bleached locks. You give little thought of him needing to breathe as your shirt becomes uncomfortably hot against your perspiring skin, so with a desperate tug, you pull off your last article of clothing and toss is carelessly somewhere on his floor.

 A sharp exhale leaves your lips as you suddenly feel Seokjin’s large hands greedily grope your thighs before finding purchase on your ass, each hand squeezing your cheeks as he moves your lower body to grind against his face. A choked sob slips past your lips as his tongue leaves your entrance, only to flatten completely on your clit. With a deep rooted carnal desire, you begin to frantically ride his mouth, loving how with each moan he gave it only vibrated against your aching pussy.

 “Fuck, fuck! I’m close,” your tone is breathless and slightly shrill as heavy pants leave your raw throat and you can feel that knot in your belly about to burst, sending a shiver up your spine at the intense pleasure Jin’s mouth was giving you. You had long forgotten that you were, in fact, at a party and that no doubt anyone who was close enough to the hallway could hear your desperate cries.

 With each keening whine that left you, Jin tightened his hold on your ass and helped you grind against his tongue; even with him unable to talk, you can almost hear the “That’s it baby, cum on my mouth” with his actions alone. He was eating you out as if he was a starved man deprived of food and water, his heavy, hot pants against your lips only had you throwing your arms back to find leverage on his hips as you continued to roll your hips erratically to chase your pending orgasm.

 It was then that your wrist brushed against something hard and hot, leaving you a gasping mess as you realized that Jin had gotten hard again from eating you out; and fuck if that wasn’t already exciting you to feel him stretch you out. You hadn’t even orgasmed from his tongue just yet and you were already looking forward to cumming with his dick next.

 You’re harshly brought back to the man you were currently drowning in your juices as his teeth gently grazed your throbbing clit and with a sharp inhale, you come undone as the small prick of pleasurable pain was all you needed to finally feel that knot snap within you. You let out a shrill scream, before repeatedly saying his name in a whine as your orgasm had your body twitching above him. Seokjin stays perfectly still and flattens his tongue on your sensitive clit, letting you ride out the last vestiges of your orgasm, before you whimper out at the over-sensitivity and finally lift yourself off of him.

 Your thighs are shaking uncontrollably as you pant heavily, lowering your quivering body on his mattress, but it isn’t long before Jin rolls over and grabs onto your ankles, pulling you over to him. Your eyes lock onto his face as he finally removes his damp pink shirt, flinging it somewhere behind him and leaving you to rake your hands over his toned stomach and chest; that silly little Mario tattoo making an appearance once more. The sudden urge to run your tongue against the lean muscles on his stomach has you practically panting; he truly was carved by gods.

 “That was so fucking sexy,” he growls out as he plants his hands on either side of your head, letting you see your juices cover his chin and cheeks, as his plump lips shine with the remnants of your arousal. “Shit, I need you princess. Do you see this? My cock is already excited to stretch that pretty pussy of yours.”

 True to his words, your eyes flicker down to his erection you had felt a few moments ago as he gripes it tightly in his fist, giving it one slow pump as precum leaks out the slit. On instinct, your walls clench around nothing, as if anticipating having him fill you to the brim with his cock and the thought alone has you squirming as a fresh wave of arousal hits you.

 “Fuck me Jin,” your tone is bossy and raspy from the earlier abuse the very thing pressed against your thigh gave it, but your core throbbed almost painfully wanting him to wreck you even further. Never in your life had you ever wanted to be fucked so badly, but then again you had never had the object of your dirty fantasies hovering above you, ready to give you want you’ve been desiring after before.

 “I’m going to make sure you won’t be able to walk,” he replies a bit darkly as his lips press against yours, tongue flicking out against your bottom lip before his teeth capture the abused flesh. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting this for.”

 You lift your hips impatiently as you grind against his erection, relishing in the soft gasp he gave and giving him a wicked grin, wondering why he wasting time talking when his dick could of already been inside you. Your walls were weeping again and you were amazed at how quickly you were drenched again, but you didn’t question it further as you continue to grind against him and let moans roll off your tongue.

 “Then stop waiting and fuck me already,” you nearly snap at him as your breath hitches at feeling his swollen tip press against your clit.

 “Patience, princess,” he scolds you lightly with that smug smirk of his as his fingers teasingly trace your lower lips, loving the soft whine you gave at his touch.

 Jin doesn’t waste any more time after that as he sits back on his legs and grabs the underside of your knees, spreading them as he lifts your ass to rest on his thighs. He leans forward and finally cups your bare breasts as his lips finds yours once more, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth to rub against your own. He hungrily swallows the moan that leaves your throat and gives your nipples a gentle pinch, twisting them slightly before detaching his mouth from yours to have it envelop an erect bud.

 With ragged breaths, you arch your back off of his mattress and squirm beneath him as he continues his ministrations on your nipples. Your whole body is set ablaze with the inferno of your desire as Seokjin ignores your pleading mewls to fuck you already, choosing instead to give all of his attention to your breasts he had previously ignored. While with every flick of his tongue, he lets the head of his dick press against your clit tortuously, teasing you to the brink of insanity.

 “Seokjin,” you practically cry at this point, no longer caring about your pride as Seokjin has effectively left you a fucked out mess, begging for his cock to be inside you. “Please, please I need you inside me.”

 With a wet pop, Jin leaves your slowly purpling breasts and levels you with a dark look of pure lust in his eyes, while his lips quirk into a cocky smile. “Anything for you, boss,” he replies casually and if weren’t for the red, angry looking head of his dick prodding at your entrance, you would of believed he was unaffected. Cocky bastard.

 Your sour thoughts are cut short however, the moment you feel him push in the tip of his member and let out a deep moan in sync with one of his own. Finally, you think to yourself as you nibble on your swollen lip to bite back a yelp of pain and pleasure at having his thick cock stretch your walls so deliciously. You were so drenched in arousal that the small sting of being stretched so wide to accommodate for his large size was minimal and the beginning wisps of pleasure began to curl around your lower body.

 “Shit, you’re pussy is so tight princess,” Jin hisses out in pleasure as sweat begins to bead around his forehead and neck, showing you just how fucked out he truly was. “So wet and warm for me, fuck.”

 “Jin, please,” you don’t even know what you were begging for anymore, all you knew was that your walls squeezed around his cock almost painfully, wanting to bring him closer to you.

 The moment he bottoms out, he lets out whiny breath as he stares down at how your body swallowed his whole member in amazement; he honestly wasn’t expecting to be able to fit his whole girth inside of you and it had him swallowing as he tried his best not to cum inside of you right then and there. But his still form had you writhing beneath him, desperate for him to move as you wrap your legs around his waist and moaning as you felt him twitch inside you.

 “Give me a second princess,” he pants out as he shifts his legs, trying to move them before he could begin to feel the pinpricks of numbness from sitting on them for too long. However, in moving it only has your walls clamping down around his dick again and it drags a raspy moan from him as he can feel his thighs slick with your dripping juices.

 However, the moment you moan out his name in another desperate keen, Seokjin loses all control he tried to keep and digs his fingers into your hips, pulling his cock out to the tip before roughly thrusting into you. The action as you crying out as your body slides forward from the rough thrust, but Jin is quick to pull you back to him as he begins his assault and pounds into you like a man possessed.

 Not soon after, his walls echo with the sounds of your cries of pleasure, Jin’s own groans and, the harsh sound of skin slapping. With the angle Seokjin had you, with your ass resting on his thighs and your lower body tilted up, his cock reached so deep inside of you it had you feeling him in your stomach. You didn’t even care that he was possibly leaving you nasty bruises on your hips from how hard his fingers were digging into your flesh; all you could focus on was how good his dick stretched you out and reached parts inside you, you didn’t even know were there.

 “Jin, Jin, Jin,” you practically cry his name like a prayer as your hands fly out to grip his wrists, trying your best to not fly off him from how harshly he was thrusting into you. “Y-You feel so, fuck! You feel so good!”

 He lets out a ragged grunt as he rises off his legs and kneels completely, letting your body lift off even more than before as he held you to make sure you wouldn’t fall. The new angle had you sobbing in amazement that he was reaching even deeper inside you, while simultaneously the tip of his dick was angled so that it kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. It had you forgetting your name, only able to remember his as you kept repeating it like a mantra.

 “You l-love my cock…ah…inside of you don’t you?” he growls out lowly as sweat rolls down his temple and chest in huge droplets, his blonde hair plastering itself on his forehead. “You love how it stretches out your pretty little cunt, right princess?”

 “Yes! Oh god yes!” comes your shrill cry as you now have to hold onto the sheets beneath you, your arms not quite long enough to find proper leverage on his wrists anymore. Your sluggish mind can barely process that the distant, consistent thud you hear is over the headboard banging into the wall from how hard Jin was fucking you into the mattress.

 You weren’t sure you’d be able to let him go if he decided he wanted this to be a one-time thing. You could already feel yourself begin to get addicted to the beautiful pleasure Jin was bestowing on your body.

 “Fuck, I won’t last much longer,” Jin moans out as he can feel his climax fast approaching with how tightly your walls were clenching around him. It felt as if with every thrust, your hole was trying desperately to pull him back in and it was single handedly the best feeling he ever had with a girl.

 After his proclamation, Jin stops his thrusting and lowers you down onto the mattress fully, quieting your disappointed whimpers with his mouth as he kisses you with an intensity that had your mind swimming. Soon enough, his cock was once more pushing into you and both of your moans resonated into the kiss that turned sloppy with heavy pants as his hips snap against yours.

 With quick work, his long fingers dip between your bodies and begin rubbing circles around your clit, all while still thrusting into you. It had you arching your back off the sheets and pressing your breasts against his chest, not minding in the least that your skin clung to his from the sweat glistening on both your bodies. Not when all your focus was on the pleasure that doubled from being stimulated from your clit and core.

 “Cum for me princess,” Jin pants out as his thrust begin to lose their rhythm from how close his orgasm was approaching. “I want you to cum all over my cock.”

 Your throat is utterly raw from your screams and Jin’s earlier actions, that all you can manage is soft whimpers now as your hands find purchase on his shoulder blades; nails biting into his skin as you leave angry, red markings on his back each time he thrusts into you. “I-I’m so close Jin,” you whine out as your body feels like its floating from the sheer euphoria you can almost feel approaching.

 “That’s it baby, cum for me.” With one final snap of his wrist and thrust of his hips, you let out one final hoarse cry as your body trembles like a leaf from the powerful orgasm rocking your nerve endings.

 Seokjin thrusts into you with desperation as he lets out his own whiny moans, and the feeling of his cum warmly painting you from the inside has goose flesh raising all over your body. There weren’t enough words to describe just how utterly sated and boneless you felt as Jin finally stills inside of you, another shudder passing your spine as you feel your mixed fluids leaking out of you and onto the sheets below.

 With a soft, shuttering exhale, Seokjin pulls out of you and tiredly slumps next to you on the bed, closest to the edge. For a long moment, the blood previously rushing through your ears subsides and you can finally hear the still ongoing music and murmurs of peoples voices carry from behind the door. It almost feels like you two are in a completely different world than the people partying beyond the hallway and you let a small, tired smile come to your lips as you realize that the warmth spreading in your chest was happiness.

 Just as you were gathering your strength to turn around and nuzzle into Jin’s neck, contentment buzzing in your veins at your realization of your own feelings, said man was suddenly lurching off the bed and running to the bathroom connected to his room.

 The warmth that had you previously floating, suddenly comes crashing down at your feet the moment you register the sounds Jin is making are those of vomiting.

 He was drunk.

 Seokjin had been drunk this entire time.

 With a trembling breath, you begin to make sense of his out of place boldness back when you were dancing with Hoseok and with a sick realization; you now see that in the end Jin hadn’t wanted you. He only wanted a quick fuck to sate his drunken hormones, and the thought of him not even remembering the intimate moment you shared had angry, bitter tears gathering in your eyes.

 You were such an idiot.

 You should have known better than to think that anything about him would change. His promise was bullshit lies to get you to sleep with him and you were foolish enough to believe they were anything else. You should have known and yet, you feel your heart break at knowing that you were an idiot for falling for someone like Kim Seokjin.

 With renewed energy, your anger has you quickly getting off his bed and cleaning yourself off with his sheets, before beginning to locate your clothes and redressing yourself. By the time you’re completely dressed, Jin stumbles out of the bathroom with droplets of water on his chin, indicating he had at least some semblance of clarity to wash his mouth out after puking. Although, the moment he sees you’re not naked as he is, his face contorts into confusion and then worry when he sees your stormy glare level at him.

 “What’s wrong princess? Where are you going?”

 “Shut up! Don’t call me that you fucking asshole!”

 Seokjin quickly clicks his mouth shut as he stares at you with wide, bewildered eyes at your sudden hostility, when moments before you had been holding onto him like a lifeline. His clueless gaze only fuels your rage further as you stomp toward him like an angered panther set on its victim, relishing in him stumbling onto the door of the bathroom to try and avoid your wrath.

 “Y/n, what’s – ”

 “I said shut up,” you icily snap at him as you roughly shove him against the door once you reach him, your hands curling into fists as they shake in anger. “I can’t believe you! This whole time, this whole damn night, you’ve been drunk?!”

 Seokjin looks at you with confused, slow eyes, before he’s quickly sobering up at the severity of the situation, realizing exactly why you were angry with him. He could remember now his promise of not being drunk, and although he had said it would be at work only, he had honestly meant to try and stop his bad habits outside of work too. He knew how much you hated his lifestyle and despite at one point not caring of your opinion, he began realizing that he slowly began to care.

 He had just been so nervous of you finally coming to one of his parties and one drink to calm his nerves turned to two, then three…

 But looking at the unshed tears shining in your narrowed eyes, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to give you such a lame excuse.

 “Y/n, I know this situation isn’t ideal, but I swear to you that –”

 “Fuck you,” you once again interrupt him as your cold tone wavered from the hurt coursing through you now, not wanting to hear any excuses he was prepared to tell you. You should have known.

 Just as Jin sees you turn and begin to stalk toward the door, panic settles within him as he hurriedly pulls on some sweats lying on his desk chair beside him, stumbling as he tried to reach you and dress at the same time.

 “Y/n-ah! Please listen to me – !”

 You ignore his pleading yells as you open his door and quickly storm past the hallway and into the ongoing party, ignoring any looks passed your way as you searched for your black haired friend. You easily find him leaning against the wall by the kitchen, your present in one hand, while the other nursed a drink he occasionally took a sip from. The rest of his group of friends and your employees (Hoseok, Jimin, Namjoon, Jungkook and Taehyung), were now standing with him as they joked around and talked amongst themselves.

 You only felt a small twinge of guilt for pulling him away from them as you icily tell him to take you home. Yoongi looks at you with shock and concern, wondering what happened between the time you left him in the kitchen to now. You ignore the questioning glances the younger males are giving you and silently tug on Yoongi’s sleeve, desperate to leave the moment you hear a familiar voice reaching you.

 “Y/n, wait!”

 You grit your teeth as now the once bustling room begins to quiet as Seokjin comes rushing over to your group, clearly causing a scene with his half-dressed state. “Yoongi, come on. Let’s go,” you angrily mutter as you ignore Jin completely and turn to leave.

 Although, the two if you are stopped when Seokjin reaches out to clutch onto your wrist and making you turn to give him a venomous stare. “Don’t touch me!”

 Your heart thrums painfully in your chest at seeing Jin look so pitiful, with his hair a mess and eyes that looked much too sad for someone who only wanted a quick fuck. Ignoring the suffocating pressure in your chest, you once again feel the hurt and anger curl around your throat as you grab your present from Yoongi’s hand and furiously throw it at Jin’s chest. To think you had cared enough to actually waste money on him.

 Jin is startled at the small box hitting him on his bare chest, but he’s quick to fumble to catch it as he stares at you with scrunched eyes of hurt and confusion. You decided that he was far too great an actor to be studying something mundane like law.

 “Have a fucking happy birthday, Seokjin,” comes your clipped tone that was akin to a slap as Jin simply stares at you in defeat. You finally tear your gaze away from him as you once again turn around and walk out the door, ignoring the stares of everyone at the party as the tears finally begin to spill.

 It wasn’t until you heard Yoongi catching up to you and gently helping you into his car that you let the repressed sobs come crashing out your lips.

 You cover your face and are grateful that Yoongi doesn’t speak or even questions you on what happened; he simply turns on the car and begins driving away to the familiar route to his apartment. The whole car ride is spent in silence, along with your trek to his apartment floor, where Yoongi still remains silent and only grabs a blanket and pillow from his room before laying down on the sofa. He knew better than to try and console you or offer sweet words, knowing by now that you simply needed to be alone, without necessarily being lonely. Tomorrow morning you promised yourself to make up for ruining his night, but for now you tiredly walk into his room and close the door.

 It isn’t until you take off your shoes and pants, and are under Yoongi’s covers that you finally notice your phone is lighting up the dark room with notifications of someone texting you. You debate for only a few seconds before curiosity got the better of you and you reach over, bringing the phone to your face, knowing exactly who was messaging you so late at night.

 1:42 am Seokjin >:b : I’m sorry

 You don’t get past the first message preview before fresh tears are springing to your eyes and you quickly toss the phone onto the carpeted floor, not caring on where it landed. He wasn’t sorry, at least not for hurting you. He was only sorry that it ended so badly with someone who had authority over him at work.

 With a shuddering breath you let your quiet sobs break the silence of the room as you curl against Yoongi’s blankets, hoping to slip into a dreamless sleep soon to escape from the horrible thoughts plaguing your mind.

 You should have known.

[birdysnow]

Who is your favorite OC? Pls share their backstory I must know👀

to be honest it’s totally Devon. I’ve had him sinceee about the 6th grade, and he’s been concrete since about 7th grade (I’m almost a junior!). He’s so important to me :’). Whenever I feel sad I just work on him or write about him and it cheers me up real fast. 

haha his backstory is a loooong, complicated mess. I literally went on an 1.5-2 hour rant about his backstory at a sleepover once, it was ridiculous how long it took for me to talk about him. I actually wrote a response for this ask yesterday, but it got deleted I hate my life. It was soooo long because I wrote it in the way I speak. You’re probably getting a lot more than you bargained for :’). I’ll put it below the cut so everyone else doesn’t suffer. 

im gonna use bullet points bc i like them and theyre shorter

note: universe is like. sci-fi. there’s space stuff you know

full name: Devon Mateo Westmore

born: August 16th 

a leo!!! do with that what you will

as far as parents go, they’re kinda dicks basically

Devon was a complete accident and he’s kind of treated as such

they’re pretty neglectful?? they really dont give a crap abt him frankly

they’re more interested in making bank with their jobs and turning up

has a sister who’s like graduating or smthn. she’s old. her name’s Lucía. 

she also could give less than a crap about him and had a similar experience with their parents; just wants to be free and have no attachment to this rando baby 

is a total Problem Child™ during school because of his messy life, just wants attention and love really but never really gets it

universally hated by teachers all his life

high school is especially rough he is a disaster

he’s basically like party all day every day bitches bc is parents are never home/probably wouldnt reprimand him for going out anyways

he drinks a lot, does drugs 

he bangs a lot of people irresponsibly. A LOT of people.

is a player tbh he will flirt with anyone. very pansexual. 

makes a lot of (bad) friends 2 fill the Void™ and does a lot of illegal things

anyway fast forward to when he’s like 17-18 and school’s like yep time to graduate!! and hes basically like

but he does graduate in order for the story to move forward

but now he’s like careers????????

all he’s kind of enjoyed is music throughout high school but he’s like thats not what i want to do. 

yolo, he probably says to himself one day. I’ll just join the military and become a space pilot because thats what I wanted to do when i was 8

so BASICALLY i haven’t figured out how I want this space military to work but he ends up in like an academy (he’s like around 19ish) or smthn 

this is where he starts to like chill tf out tbh

he discovers that he likes this a lot?? and he’s like dedicated to it???

a lot of like. coping happens and he has to figure out what kind of person he wants to be and recover™ himself

but yah he does well and he ends up being valedictorian nice going m8 

basically if you’re #1 in your class you get the opportunity to go to this like. school/training thingy. and it’s very exclusive but if you like graduate from their you’re like. set 

its like harvard except you could die there 

yolo, he thinks in yet another life decision he really shouldn’t be taking lightly. I want $$$$ so i’m about to make that place my bitch

he does not make that place his bitch

he suffers so much

by the end of the year/2 years he’s there, he does pretty well

He makes a bunch of good friends, and he gets a ton of experience. he’s really good because of it, as to be expected

while there the top of the class is this girl and her name is Adella

shes my daughter

Devon likes her but she’s like super stand-offish and he’s a party kid so he’s like

“hard pass.”

but he has like mad respect and he thinks she’s chill

the feelings mutual

anyways like RIGHT before they graduate she gets recruited to this special program because she’s top of the class and like disappears he never sees her again

sike

but not for a while at least……………

so like fast forward he’s like 23 maybe

he’s got a good job, he’s living it up really?? he’s just like pretty happy all around he has a life, an apartment, friends

he gets an email from this girl and she’s like yo

I’m Tamara, my mother passed away recently but I discovered that our parents are apparently siblings?? I never knew I had a cousin, I heard you live in the area and I was just wondering if you wanted to get to know each other 

and hes basically like damn if i’m about to pass up this chance!!!!!!!!

Tamara works as a programmer literally one (1) city away 

basically they just?? end up getting along really well?? Devon spends a lot of his off days hanging out with her

he’s so ecstatic to finally have someone who’s his family like she treats him like a little brother

probably Tamara also has a younger sibling, their name is Calix. they work as a doctor and dont see Tamara often but the two are close regardless

they’ll be important later but for rn they’re not relevant

anyway, at some point they make plans for Devon to meet Tamara and he ends up at her work

and she’s chilling with this guy who is absolutely

fucking

gorgeous

Devon’s sure he died, right there, behind a goddamn cubicle,,

he’s frantically trying to think up something suave to say (are you the only tennessee no– wait–) when Tamara notices him

she introduces him to her hot friend, his name is Shay

Devon tries to play it cool

“Hey would you mind if Shay came w–”

“NO NOT AT ALL I WOULDNT MIND”

they go out for lunch

he chills out a little bit on the way enough to be his usual self

Shay mistakes flirting for good-natured joking

Devon suffers

They exchange numbers 

cue pining 

Shay continues to be oblivious

He has to be told point blank by Tamara whos like “Please, for the love of all that is good, fuck him go on a date with my cousin.”

“Has he been asking me on dates every time he takes me out?? every time??”

I love Shay so much u dont even know

Shay is basically a really pure and happy person, literally nothing can get him down ever he’s just trying to live his best life

he’s everything to Devon, he’s so sunshiney and nice and Devon has just been through some stuff and his life is going well and now he has been blessed with this beautiful, perfect boy….,,,

it’s not like Devon has never dated anyone before, most of his relationships have been purely physical but he’s been in romantic relationships w people

but this is like. it he knows it. 

they date for about a year, everything’s fantastic

and then

things are heating up politically, and Devon’s in the military so they need him somewhere else

right now everyones living in like?? around india somewhere and they need him in like. canada.

hes understandably upset

he’s gotta move. acROSS THE GLOBE.

he’s not going to break up with bae but they’ve got to talk through this like Adults™

so they talk through it

and Shay’s basically like

“fuck no, i’m moving with you idiot

did you think you were just going to move away from me bench?? sike”

they move in together

I used to have their apartment layout drawn up on homestyler but they reset the system and it’s gone into the void so i’ll have to remake it :’)

so now they’re moved in which is super great everything is popping

remember Calix? they’re relevant again

basically, Calix has been dating this girl for a while now and they’ve gotten serious but their relationship is not working out because she is a mess tbh and they love each other very much but they are not good for each other

Calix isn’t emotionally receiving or helpful he’s very blunt so they end up splitting up because she doesn’t need a relationship  

Said girl is Adella

Adella is a mess basically

the program she was recruited for made her very successful, very well known in her field and in a lot of ways, among common people

but downside is there was a lot of government dirty work she was kind of pressured into doing

there’s also a lot of hush hush skirmish’s that have been occurring that she had to stop

she’s been struggling with depression for a lot of her life and she has PTSD so when her contract is up she decides to take a break™ 

her and Calix’s relationship kind of falls apart but she’s friends with Tamara and she’s like I need to leave somewhere and get out of this messiness, i’m going to move back home (Canada)

Tamara is like

LIGHTBULB DING DING DING

she doesn’t think that Adella shoudnt be on her own, she wants someone to supervise her and make sure she doesnt accidentally starve or smthn

she has the best intentions but she kind of tricks Devon and Shay tbh

“Hey you guys got an apartment with an extra room?? Can you take in my friend for a while, she’ll pay rent, she has a job she’s just trying to find a nice place to live but she needs to move to the area rn”

the two of them are like “yeah sure lol sounds legit tammy we ly

Adella shows up on their doorstep with the intention to live there for like 2 years

cue Shay internally flipping his shit over this lowkey celebrity whos going to LIVE in HIS APARTMENT DEVON DID YOU CLEAN THE KITCHEN

Devon is not phased 

he knows Adella from school so he’s just kind of like hey its u whats banging girlie

he basically just treats her like normal and she is so appreciative 

basically they become SQUAD i love them and thats the beginning of my story and thus ends background 

i’m sorry this was so long i tried so hard but i got carried away. double sorry for taking so long I have like 3 end of school projects due rip me

Thank you so much for asking!! I can’t tell you how much it means to me :’)) If you made it this far through my story I applaud you. thanks for reading!!! Feel free to message me if you have any questions 

[in-mutual-weirdness]

Elsewhere University: Wayward

AN: First attempt at writing a thing in a long while. I have a weakness for fae stories and urban magic-y kind of scenarios, and @charminglyantiquated‘s universe here caught me hook, line, and sinker. Still, didn’t think I’d write anything for it, until the library scene popped into my head while I was procrastinating. Hope you enjoy what it’s turned into.

----------

When you were younger, your parents had impressed upon you the importance of going into the sciences.

“Be practical,” they said. “We have three sets of tuition to pay for. You can't waste time on art or philosophy. Love is all fine and noble, sure, but debt is not.”

Your original reaction had been a slowly growing resentment. Now, you're glad for it. You wouldn't touch humanities with a 10 foot pole now.

Oh sure, you're no automaton. You can appreciate people with an eye for theory, ink-stained fingers, or the aptitude for composition. A good portion of your friend group chose to study and create beautiful things. You love hearing about what they do, seeing the way their eyes light up and their words run away from them in sheer enthusiasm. But interspersed between their conversations about theater or lit class readings, you heard...other things. “Weird and inexplicable” didn't even begin to cover it. You finally put the pieces together in the spring of freshman year, after Sydney disappeared and everybody gathered to drink in memory and mourning.

It spooked the hell out of you. No two ways about it. Elsewhere University had a reputation for weirdness, for sure. You'd be lying if you said that hadn't swayed you in favor of attending in the first place. But this went past weird. “Weird” wasn't going to get you killed or kidnapped. The only thing keeping you from just transferring straight away was the impossibility of trying to explain it to your parents. And your grades weren't exactly gonna convince any other admissions office to let you in. Nowhere comparable, anyway.

So you coped in the ways you knew how. Reading all the guides you could get your hands on. Finding source folklore. Your choice of major had already stacked the cards in your favor. And while you still hung out with your arty friends, by sophomore year you'd found another group. A group more shielded from the weirdness. Where things could be normal and nobody thought to ask doppelganger questions or carry old screws in all their pockets. Except that one engineer lady, but far as you could tell, that was just a personal quirk.

And then school brought the hammer down on you.

You knew that college was gonna get tougher. But knowing didn't mean you were prepared. Those grades that had kept you from transferring came back to bite you. That creeping unease from Sydney hadn't gone away, and it was showing up in your work habits and shattered focus. You'd talked to the student health services people about it, and gotten nowhere. Scholarship money was on the line. The second round of exams was coming. And linear algebra was the first one.

You’d done your best to stay away from Elsewhere’s weirdness. But that didn’t mean you weren’t aware. You remembered what your humanities friends had told you. There were things you could do, loopholes you could exploit. Options, options, always options. If you were brave enough to take them.

And so here you are, venturing into the lower floors of the library.

You didn’t know many specifics going in, but you did know where to look. The bio majors Facebook page didn’t explicitly mention their library base camps, but the “Spelunkers Club” did, and had drafted a map to boot. The printout is sitting in your backpack, right now, sandwiched between notebooks. You’d wondered about their ability to diagram a non-Real, inconsistent space, but the solution made you laugh in shocked delight once you saw. While the shape of the shelves would change every six days or so, even a fae-touched library was militant about the Dewey decimal system. You spot the Fashion books (746.92) and make a right, nodding at a dude you recognize from your Psych class. He gives a weak thumbs up in response. Not somebody you'd expect to come here, but the psych lecture is the morning after the exam. If any of you vanish, it'll get reported quickly.

You move off a ways, finding a row of empty carrels against the wall. All identical, save one, whose lone desk light throws shadows around the walls. The rest of the row has their lights off, but you can hear the ambient shuffle of papers anyway. Best avoid those chairs, then. You pull out your ramen packs, selecting the saltiest variety (verified with a taste test, once. And never again.) The remaining 2/3 of the packets you scatter about the table, and stash back into your pockets. Should work.

You crack open your textbook and a bag of chips, and get started.

Time passes. The sound of your pages joins the general rustling. The clatter of laptop keys cuts through intermittently. You pull out your phone to google a definition and glance at the clock--apparently it thinks you’re in Dubai. Well, at least there’s proof that the time dilation here is actually a thing. Or just that it screws with your electronics. You make decent progress through some of the practice problems, but stall whenever you hit the theorems. That's algebra for you. A lot of numbers and graphs and definitions that use letters like they're words you should understand. You don't. Which is why you're even in this part of the library right now.

It takes you a while before you realize that no letters make sense anymore. You're still thinking in English- at least, you're pretty sure it's still English. But now even the chapter headings in your textbook look merely like shapes. It might just be delirium. That's the reasonable conclusion. You’d downed your second can of Red Bull just trying to keep your eyes functioning. But...

On impulse, you try to write your uni name. (Not your real name, you're not stupid. Just panicky.) Descartes. Cogito ergo sum, and all that. It comes out successfully, but it's entirely due to memory. Making the individual letters takes as much effort as if you were writing them backward, every curve meticulously plotted and traced.

Your circle is undisturbed, thankfully. But the shuffle of pages has stopped. Wind howls from beyond the walls, and the shelves creak like old floorboards. For a moment you wonder about the psych kid. It's a moment too long. You see something move out of the corner of your eye, when you look back toward where he was.

Don't move. Nothing’s there.

Except the Red Bulls are doing a number on your system, and even though you were never the wordy sort you'd still like your language back, thanks, and even if you wanted to leave your suddenly too-small circle and brave your way back to the campus proper, that exam would still be there.

The memory of your GPA curdles your fear into anger. “I thought we were the kind of people you'd leave alone,” you snap, turning to yell over your shoulder. Your voice climbs an octave as you start to rant in earnest. “What's the deal? I'm a STEM major. Doing math. Algebra. You don't even like algebra.”

“Mayhaps,” comes a voice from behind the shelves. “Numbers and Logic are mortal things, it’s true. But you are not a number. You just work with them.”

“And other things,” you reply. You strain your eyes into the dark, frozen in your half turn, but the shelves reveal nothing. Whatever’s out there doesn’t sound like it wants to approach. Probably. Your brain is racing, just barely outpacing your heart. “What do you--is there something you desire from me?”

“Presumptuous.” There’s a cicada-like buzz behind the voice. It makes you picture some kind of massive chitin-plated thing waiting just out of view.

“I meant no presuming. Uh.” Your tongue ties itself in knots to avoid the word “sorry.” It’s surprisingly hard to come up with less dangerous words. “Tell me where I went wrong and I shall try to avoid repeat offense?”

The hum continues. It's starting to sound like laughter. Your spine shivers like a loosened spring. “I want nothing of yours, pupa. What use could I have for it?”

You're pretty sure that question is rhetorical, and if it wasn't, any answer you could give would only endanger yourself. “Then if that’s so, we may move on with our lives. I’m sure you have your own stuff to- to attend to.” You try to muster up enough courage to turn back to your desk.

“I don’t understand. My current business is talking to you.” The thing- the Visitor’s legs skitter about around the shelves, its voice circling around. It better not be getting closer. “You’re proving a rather difficult conversation partner. Most im-po-lite.”

“I did not come here expecting conversation,” you say, uneasily. God, you want out. You shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. You never know who’s listening. “I came here to study, nothing more. That’s where my lack of grace comes from, uh, good fellow.”

“Odd, that you should stroll right into somebody’s front parlor and not be prepared for conversation.”

That can’t be right. That can’t be. The map- You turn the chair fully around and reach over to your backpack, before pulling back at the last minute. Can you even show that to a fae? Is that allowed? You wrack your brain for details, and keep coming up blank. Meanwhile, your Visitor- or Host, perhaps, as the case may be now- waits patiently beyond. “I was told that this was neutral ground where I could complete my work undisturbed,” you say, finally. Your hands rest on your lap now, fingers aching from where you gripped the swivel chair armrests. “I was told that this was public ground.”

“Misinformed trespass is still trespass, hatchling.” Their tone of voice doesn't change, but something in the cadence of it makes your hand stray toward your ramen packs. “You've wandered across my threshold and barred the door. Surely even you know what that means.”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You raise your hands in a placating gesture. “I understand. I will-” Die? Get Taken? Tell the Spelunkers that their map is a piece of shit and they need better cartographers? “I will leave and remove the salt circle. I will find where the actual neutral zones are and leave your domain alone and not trespass on it again. And...”

And? Your brain insists that something is missing, but by now all you want to do is flee and never come back. “And yeah. Does that sound reasonable to you?”

There's a different sort of clicking now. It sounds like pincers. You swallow back the lump of shuddering fear and wait for their answer. The entire section of the library is quiet except for that awful sound. “Usually there are reparations for an offense such as this. But...” Oh God oh god what does it want now. “I see that you've already lost something. That would normally go to the offended party. But I have no use for your words. Go then, pupa.”

It’s already started to skitter away when you’ve finished processing what it said. “Wait!” You even reach out toward the shelves, almost tripping out your chair onto the salt circle. Your legs are practically wobbly enough to wriggle out of your own jeans. “My- the words! English. Do you have my words?”

“They say external ears are better for hearing. I think they're mistaken.” You don't have time for its coy amusement, but it has even less time for overt demands and careless students. You grit your teeth and wait. “I have no need of your words. But I know how to get them back. I could retrieve them for you, even. But, that would be a favor.” You catch a glimpse of something between a gap in the shelves and you look hurriedly away. There's only leather spines and library labels. There's nothing else worth looking at over there. “And I don't give those out readily, even to those who haven't offended me. That is my offer. You know what to do, pupa.”

Trade nothing you cannot afford to lose. But you've already lost- You screw your eyes shut and count to ten, in half-remembered high school Italian. Uno, due, tre... You get to “cinque” before you switch into Spanish by accident. Right. A peace offering. You look at your desk, at your backpack, glance down at your pockets.

Only one option stands out to you.

You pick up the map and throw it out at the room with a flick of the wrist. “Here,” you say, as it drifts down just outside of the yellow-y line of flavor powder. “A map. Designed by the best cartographers of my age.” In a manner of speaking. “Knowledge for knowledge. Use it to secure the borders of your domain.” You reach for your notebook, and while you can't read what it says, you recognize the formatting of the list. “Here is a copy, in my own writing. It is as a contract. Take it as confidence that I will learn and know the borders here, and not cross them, ever.”

There's a rush of movement and suddenly something with more legs than you can really perceive lunges out from behind the shelves. You can't help the scream of terror. (Nor the stream of pee either. Caffeine, what a diuretic.) The sheer speed of it blows your hair back, as if you were standing on a subway platform by an oncoming train. When it’s passed back into the shadows, you look down at your feet. The circle hasn’t moved at all.

“Do not let anybody say I am not fair,” it says. “I always give back equal to what is given in turn. You can have your letters back. I grant you 24 hours of grace period inside this building. That should be more than enough to settle whatever affairs you need to in here. Good morrow, pupa.” It slinks back into the library, the click of its legs blurring together like the sound of pouring sand. Once more, the only sound is from the phantom students on either side of you.

You collapse back into your chair, barely able to move. Thankfully, whatever that fae did seems to have worked. You can read your notes, and even the textbook again. The adrenaline rush of it all has thrown everything into sharp relief. You write with abandon, blasting through proofs and problems alike with new vigor. When you finally leave and walk back out into the late evening sun, you stumble back to bed and nearly sleep through your alarm. But the exam, after that ordeal, feels like a doctor’s visit. Longer than you wanted and a bit uncomfortable, sure. But nothing worse than that.

Psych dude doesn’t show up the next lecture, but you do see him during the break. Probably just came in late. You do that too, you know the feeling.

It isn’t until that weekend, when the exam comes back with a grade better than you could reasonably expect, that you get antsy.

When a about a row’s worth of people don’t show up to your systems biology midterm the week after, you upgrade to worry.

You really wish you could say that you contacted the Spelunkers Club before their page got shut down.  (Part 2?)

[anjibooks]

Mini Reviews: Rhapsodic, A Poison Dark and Drowning, and One of Us is Lying

(Copied over from my blog anjibooks.weebly.com. Originally posted 3/7/2018)

I always try to write my reviews close(ish) to the time after I read them, because the longer the time between the review and actually reading the book, the less detail you can give. Here are three books that I read last year (2017) and never got around to actually fleshing out a full review. I know I use this excuse every time but I'm really sorry, it's a really busy year. I know these are all excuses but I'll give them to y'all anyway to ease my guilt. It's my junior year, and I'm taking all the hardest classes accessible to me = lots of work. Aside from that I also for some reason decided to take on a ton of extra work on the side including tutoring several students, being a producer for our school's play and musical plus I also do stats for the wrestling & lacrosse team plus I also do Cappies and I also like to enjoy just hanging out with my friends while also getting around to read occasionally. So yeah, lots of excuses but now you know why I don't write reviews quite as often. I actually haven't been having time to read quite as often, either, so sorry. Alright, now that you all are tired of hearing my excuses and about my busy life, here are some mini reviews to give you a feel for these three books. 

Rhapsodic by Laura Thalassa What attracted me to this book? While scrolling through Tumblr on my occasional need to look for ACOMAF material (my favorite book), I heard this book had a similar set up of characters and story to A Court of Mist and Fury, and it had a good review. Obviously I had to get it immediately. Unfortunately, this book was just that. A rip off of A Court of Mist and Fury. Instead of using the good bits of ACOMAF and twisting them into a new and enterprising book, this just took the tropes and tried to rush into a story that readers will swoon over. Spoiler, I did not swoon. In fact, I spent most of this book rolling my eyes. I really wanted to like it, I did, but I just couldn't. Other than the characters' amazing journey and the well thought out plot in A Court Of Mist and Fury, that book worked so well because we were already attached to the characters and story and  knew the world from our experience with the first book. Also the writing in A Court of Mist in Fury was just beautiful. I've never fallen in love with a story and its characters more than my experience with A Court of Mist and Fury. I know, y'all might be thinking I might've enjoyed the book if I quit comparing it to my favorite book. It was impossible not to compare, though. In fact, Rhapsodic basically was A Court of Mist and Fury with just changed names, and instead of beautifully setting up a story to connect with like A Court of Thorns and Roses did, this book just rushed right into the part of the story everyone loved, as if trying to just get to the money//fans. There was no journey to get attached to the characters. They were just there already, as was their relationship. All together, I found this book to just be a mess. The characters were just meh, I didn't care for any of them. I was actually more annoyed with the choices they made more than I actually found myself connecting with them. There were scenes where I knew I was supposed to care and that were pivotal moments, but I just didn't because I didn't care enough about the characters (or at all, really). I think that's all due to the lack of set up for the story. Would A Court of Mist and Fury have done as well as it did without its first book? Who knows. I just couldn't fall in love, or even in like with this book. Sorry. 4/10 stars. I'm not all that interested in trying the next one. Might as well leave that to fans who actually enjoyed the book and leave out the low rating for it. Synopsis: ​ Callypso Lillis is a siren with a very big problem, one that stretches up her arm and far into her past. For the last seven years she’s been collecting a bracelet of black beads up her wrist, magical IOUs for favors she’s received. Only death or repayment will fulfill the obligations. Only then will the beads disappear. Everyone knows that if you need a favor, you go to the Bargainer to make it happen. He’s a man who can get you anything you want... at a price. And everyone knows that sooner or later he always collects. But for one of his clients, he’s never asked for repayment. Not until now. When Callie finds the fae king of the night in her room, a grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eye, she knows things are about to change. At first it’s just a chaste kiss—a single bead’s worth—and a promise for more. For the Bargainer, it’s more than just a matter of rekindling an old romance. Something is happening in the Otherworld. Fae warriors are going missing one by one. Only the women are returned, each in a glass casket, a child clutched to their breast. And then there are the whispers among the slaves, whispers of an evil that’s been awoken. If the Bargainer has any hope to save his people, he’ll need the help of the siren he spurned long ago. Only, his foe has a taste for exotic creatures, and Callie just happens to be one.

A Poison Dark and Drowning by Jessica Cluess ​As you may or might not recall, I was very enraptured with the first book in this series and was quite looking forward to book 2. Unfortunately, the second was not nearly as fun a read as the first. There was just so much about this book that felt rushed. Since I read it a long time ago, I don't recall the exact details of what irked me about this book, but I remember a lot of feeling irked and a lot of eye rolls. A lot of stuff happened in this book that I didn't particularly care about. There's a new character introduced that I could tell from the beginning was going to be a main, but I just didn't care for them. Still don't. Also, sorry, but Rook annoyed me even more in this book than he did in the first, so, yeah, I didn't feel all that bad for him and his plight. Yeah, it's been a long time so I don't want to start spouting off too much stuff because I can't accurately remember it all. Also the "plot-twists" were not so much as twists as they were just... there. The big reveals? Yeah, they were easily guessable from about five hundred miles away. I'm sorry for the rant. This is why I don't like to write reviews long after I read the book, it's easier to remember the negative, especially if there wasn't anything overwhelmingly positive. I'm sure there were good elements of the book, they just weren't great and they are forgotten in comparison to the negatives of the novel. All together, like the first book, I suppose you could call it a fun combination of classic tropes and cliches. (Which is part of what made it so predicable). If you enjoyed the first book, read this one. Why not? Don't let my short little rant stop you from reading it, because plenty people did enjoy this one. Don't take my word on this book too seriously since it's been too long for me to give an accurate review. All I can really accurately remember is being annoyed and liking this book less than the first. So if you didn't like the first all that much, maybe this isn't the book for you since the story doesn't actually get better... I can't decide what to give this book, I'm caught between 5-6/10 stars, so I'll leave it there. Synopsis: ​ The magicians want her to lead. The sorcerers want her to lie. The demons want her blood. Henrietta wants to save the one she loves. But will his dark magic be her undoing? Henrietta doesn’t need a prophecy to know that she’s in danger. She came to London to be named the chosen one, the first female sorcerer in centuries, the one who would defeat the bloodthirsty Ancients. Instead, she discovered a city ruled by secrets. And the biggest secret of all: Henrietta is not the chosen one. Still, she must play the role in order to keep herself and Rook, her best friend and childhood love, safe. But can she truly save him? The poison in Rook’s system is transforming him into something monstrous as he begins to master dark powers of his own. So when Henrietta finds a clue to the Ancients’ past that could turn the tide of the war, she persuades Blackwood, the mysterious Earl of Sorrow-Fell, to travel up the coast to seek out strange new weapons. And Magnus, the brave, reckless flirt who wants to win back her favor, is assigned to their mission. Together, they will face monsters, meet powerful new allies, and uncover the most devastating weapon of all: the truth.

One of Us Is Lying by Karen M. McManus I often talk about how hype can completely ruin a book. This book was one that was severely overhyped. Sometime, I think it was over the summer ​everyone was talking about this book, you could barely turn a corner in the book world without hearing about One of Us Is Lying. Eventually, after a lot of resistance, I finally got sucked in and figured: screw it. I might as well try it out, I might be missing out. I wasn't. One of Us if Lying is advertised as a modern day "mystery" novel. The basic premise is that five students go into detention. The jock, the popular girl, the nerdy/good girl and the "bad boy" are all the classic cliches you need, and then the fifth is a student universally hated by everyone in his school. He runs a gossip blog and basically ruins everyone's lives. If you have a dark secret Simon posts about it. So when Simon is murdered in detention and it's discovered that he was about to make a post about everyone who was present in the detention room, they all instantly become suspects in his murder. Without spoiling on the mystery of the novel, I'd just like to say it was predictable and also poorly written/thought out. Why do I say that? Well, I predicted the murderer before I even opened the book. It's kind of hard to scrape by on calling the book a mystery if it's that predictable. By poorly written I mean the characters weren't written well enough for me to find them and their story compelling. There was not a single character in this book that had my sympathy/that I even remotely cared about. And the relationships? Don't even get me started. I know, I was suppose to majorly ship the bad boy and the good girl because that's a classic, right? I had to love it. I didn't, and it's not because that's a total cliche, because I love cliches. It's because the writing and the story, I just didn't particularly care for their relationship. At all, partially (mostly) due to the fact that I didn't actually care about any of them. They just weren't compelling, or written in a way that I could connect with them. And by poorly thought out? I mean this book caused a lot of controversy from a certain group of people, more on that in my spoiler section, but let me say I agree with this group 100%. Was it the hype that destroyed the book, or the book itself? I think a combination of both. I went into the book expecting great things, and was met with less than mediocre content, which made the let down even greater. All together, I was left unimpressed. 5/10 stars. Synopsis: The Breakfast Club meets Pretty Little Liars, One of Us Is Lying is the story of what happens when five strangers walk into detention and only four walk out alive. Everyone is a suspect, and everyone has something to hide. Pay close attention and you might solve this. On Monday afternoon, five students at Bayview High walk into detention. Bronwyn, the brain, is Yale-bound and never breaks a rule. Addy, the beauty, is the picture-perfect homecoming princess. Nate, the criminal, is already on probation for dealing. Cooper, the athlete, is the all-star baseball pitcher. And Simon, the outcast, is the creator of Bayview High's notorious gossip app. Only, Simon never makes it out of that classroom. Before the end of detention, Simon's dead. And according to investigators, his death wasn't an accident. On Monday, he died. But on Tuesday, he'd planned to post juicy reveals about all four of his high-profile classmates, which makes all four of them suspects in his murder. Or are they the perfect patsies for a killer who's still on the loose? Everyone has secrets, right? What really matters is how far you would go to protect them." SPOILERS Spoiler: ALL OF THEM WERE LYING, but not in the way that counted. See, the author tried to make it a huge plot twist that none of them killed Simon. Except that wasn't plot twist, it was actually what I was expecting. What would be more of a plot twist and what I was hoping to occur (but not expecting) was that one of them actually did kill Simon, because that would've actually made the story interesting. Seeing inside the character's head the entire book and being fooled by them? And then seeing why, the motivation and how (they came up with the plan)? Yes. I would have absotlely loved that. In fact, if that had been the case it might have actually redeemed the novel somewhat in my eyes. Instead, the novel took the predictable route and made Simon the culprit. Which is exactly what I had been expecting the entire time. And that group pissed off? It's the group saying that this book is mocking mental illness and using it as a get out of jail free card. I agree with that. As someone who's seen a lot of mental illness and is very close to it, I would say this was not a good way to represent it. At all. I could go on a whole rant on that topic, but I'll just leave it at I don't think this book handled the mental illness aspect well. Thanks for reading these rant-ish reviews. Sorry they were ranty. Love y'all! ​Anj

[kottawrites]

Too Damn Stubborn Chapter 2

George Washington

Word Count: 2,163

Contains swearing.

Ship: Thomas Jefferson/James Madison

Links: Ao3 // FF.net // Wattpad

Enjoy!

They had been friends since age ten.

Best friends since age thirteen.

Had a crush on each other since age sixteen.

Roommates since age nineteen.

Boyfriends since age twenty.

They had their first real fight at age twenty seven.

Yes, of course they often had arguments, but over little petty things, never anything more. It was hard to not have disagreements when you were in a relationship with someone as argumentative and confident as Thomas Jefferson.

But this? well, this felt serious.

Madison had come home in a bad mood after work, he’d had to deal with many moody mothers of students at the university after there had been a mistake with some of the student loans- which (as James had told them many times) isn't something he has control over anyway!

Jefferson was irritated thanks to the bad weather making his leg ache more than usual and Hamilton had managed to somehow get an article Thomas had worked really hard on pulled from the final print of the next days Newspaper.

So the air was tense before they even greeted one and other.

Jefferson wanted to rant about Hamilton- get all his frustrations out of his system.

Madison wanted to complain about his job and all the wrongly placed complaints he gets.

Neither of them wanted to listen.

“You know, I feel like you do nothing these days but obsess over Hamilton!” James had snapped “Every day all I hear is ‘Oh you'll ever guess what Hamilton did today!’ or ‘I pulled the most amazing prank on Hamilton earlier.’ and I always listen because it makes you happy.” He heaved a sigh “I know you're self centered- but hearing you talk about someone else as much as you talk about yourself. Its draining.” James said bitterly, not making eye contact with the other man who stood across from him.

Thomas raised his eyebrow, and said possibly the worst thing he could have- but unfortunately he never thought before he spoke “Well my life has to be interesting enough for both of us- considering how dull each day is at your little reception job.”

James looked up at Jefferson at that, his face a painful combination of hurt and disappointment before he stood up slightly taller and deadpanned a simple “Fuck you.” at Jefferson before he took his bag and left their apartment, slamming the door behind him.

The silence that Thomas was left in was absolutely suffocating.

But as confident as ever he sat down on their sofa and tried not to think about the colossal disaster he’d just caused.

Besides, James would be back later that evening.

--

James wasn’t anywhere to be found in their apartment the next morning.

--

James didn’t come home that next night.

--

The sun rose on the second day after Jefferson's big fuck up, and Thomas knew he couldn’t take this anymore.

James had replied to none of the one-hundred and seventy six text messages Jefferson had sent.

He hadn't picked up any of the two hundred and eighteen calls Jefferson had tried.

Anyone who could know where James might be wouldn't talk to Jefferson.

The worry he felt for his boyfriend (God, he hoped they were still boyfriends) was overwhelming. His entire body felt tense and all he seemed to do was nervously unlock his phone very thirty seconds- just in case James had tried to contact him.

He may have taken slightly more of his pain medication than he should have- trying to stop the pain in his heart along with the pain in his leg, but that only made him want to sleep.

He woke with a start the next morning at five AM. He’d fallen asleep uncomfortably on the sofa and felt disoriented as he gathered his surroundings. Once again, finding no James and no messages from James. He felt utterly defeated- which is a feeling he doesn't think he has ever felt before.

Thomas had picked up his phone and typed out a hasty: “Hi, I won't be in work today. Got some crazy bad food poisoning.” to his manager- this was one hundred percent a lie because Jefferson had lost his appetite the second James had left.

He struggled to get himself up off the sofa and stared longingly at the front door to their apartment, wishing desperately for James to come in quietly like he always does. But there was no chance considering it was five AM and that Jefferson had been possibly the worlds biggest ass hole the other day, and honestly he didn’t deserve to see James's warm smile again.

But he wanted to see that smile and the man it belonged too like he needed air to breath.

He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and start taking action.

--

So that how Jefferson found himself trespassing on Reynolds University property at half past seven in the morning, with a pitiful bunch of flowers at his side- it was all the supermarket had left before they got their order in later that morning.

He sat down on a wall near the main entrance to the university, where he knew the reception area was.

Where James would be in about an hours time.

He closed his eyes and willed time to go faster, his hands resting on his cane in front of him.

“Excuse me- but, you look a little old to be a student here.” Someone said standing above him. Jefferson lifted his tired gaze to see a man who stood a bit too proudly and alert for such an early hour. “You know trespassing isn't allowed.” The man said coolly, his deep voice sounding as though it should be commanding an army- not talking to Jefferson.

“I’m waiting for someone.” Thomas sat up, trying to hold his own against the older man.

“Are they expecting you?”

Thomas considered lying, but he couldn’t help but feel like there were consequences for lying to the other man “Unfortunately not.” he sighed.

“Now why is that?” The man said, he sat next to Jefferson on the wall.

Thomas felt weary all of a sudden, why was this stranger taking so much interest in him? He began to politely say it was none of the other guys business when the stranger spoke again.

“Sorry, sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. Not everyday some random guy comes up to you and starts grilling you on your problems.” he chuckled and put his hand out for Thomas to shake “I’m George Washington, a teacher here at the university.”

“Charmed.” Jefferson said nonchalantly, he he shook the other man's hand weakly, trying to make his disinterest clear.

George must have picked up on this, because he seemed to roll his eyes and smile slyly “I've worked here long enough to know the staff pretty well. Especially our wonderful reception team…”

Jefferson perked up at that comment. George thought to himself ‘bingo’ as his hunch about this trespasser had been correct.

“I’m assuming yore Thomas?” Washington's tone had changed, and suddenly Jefferson couldn’t help but feel like he was about to get the the lecture of a lifetime off of George “The cause of James’s recent heartache?”

Thomas shouldn't feel happy about the fact that James was sad too- but he did. This means there was still a chance for them right? “That would be me, yes. The ass hole who cant keep his stupid moth shut.”

“I've heard.” George nodded. “Son, I can't say I’m pleased with you. In fact I think you have a lot of work to do.”

Thomas felt himself choking up- he never got choked up. But the weight of the situation really was dawning on him. How could he have said that to James? James is all he really has in this world that makes him unconditionally happy. Why did he leave it so long to come and find him- surely he couldn’t have just assumed that Madison would come crawling back to him after he’d been so bitter? “I know.” Was all he could manage to say.

George let Thomas stew over his regretful thoughts a little longer, before clapping the other man on the back gently “This is a good start though. The flowers could be better, they are a little rough around the edges- much like yourself.”

Jefferson looked at the bunch of flowers he’d put next to him and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips “They do look shit don’t they?”

George laughed “I wouldn't go that far.” He stood up again “Son, I’m happy to see you're making an effort to right your wrongs, but you must keep it up. I can tell you love James a lot, but, loving is easy, young man, proving it is harder.”

Thomas nodded and said “Thank you, for talking to me, that is. I’m going to try so much harder from now on.” He stood up also, feeling more energized than he has in quite some time “I love James Madison and I’ll be damned if I don’t let him know it every single day!” he exclaimed confidently to George.

“Well you had better start soon. I have work in half an hour.” someone said from behind Jefferson. He knew that voice better than his own. I loved the sound of that voice more than his own- and that was saying something.

“James!” He jumped, cheeks suddenly going red- embarrassed that he’d been caught being so cheesy.

“Well would you look at the time, I had better get to my classroom.” George said, mining looking at a watch on his wrist that wasn’t there before he wandered off across the campus.

“I haven't forgiven you just yet.” James warned.

Thomas felt his stomach drop, his regretful mood returning “I don’t expect you to have Jemmy. But I’m going to do all I can make it up to you.” He grabbed the flowers off the wall hastily and thrust them towards James “I have been a class-A asshole and I am so sorry I can't even begin to explain it.”

James took the flowers and looked at them thoughtfully “They're a little rough around the edges… just like you.” he commented looking Thomas up and down “I’ll see you later after work.” his signature warm smile beginning to show itself on his lips.

Thomas’s heart thumped loudly in his chest, he don't know how much he’d been longing for James since the he’d had left “See you later sweet heart.” He said perhaps a bit too quickly. He felt like he was sixteen with the biggest crush ever on his best friend again. It was not an unpleasant feeling, the excitement was certainly getting his blood pumping.

“See you.” James waved before walking off toward the universities main entrance.

Thomas was left, standing love struck for a short while before he managed to snap himself out of it and walk home.

On his way back he picked up the ingredients to make the special Macaroni Cheese he makes specifically for his other half. It was lactose, dairy and gluten free so that it wouldn’t set off any of James’s allergies and also it tasted amazing.

Although Thomas regrets deeply what he said to Madison, the silver lining is It really made him realize how good his life is with James by his side.

--

When James had come home later that evening, the pair had shared a candlelit dinner and talked the night away as if they were only just dating again. James informed Thomas that the teacher he’d spoken to had invited them to a barbecue at his house the following weekend- if he wanted to go.

Thomas had of course agreed, he was looking forward to seeing George again, grateful for the kick in the right direction he’d given him.

All in all, despite his best efforts, things were looking up again for Thomas, and he planned to keep it that way from now on.

--